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literaila · 4 months

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one in the morning

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary:

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

warnings: slight angst, awkward child rearing, a bit of arguing, and pining (of course), slightly ooc gojo

a/n: because i am a sucker for little megumi

year zero. year one.

it's not that you're not expecting the call. except that you're not.

like not even a little bit. an asteroid coming down and destroying only you and your apartment building is slightly more likely than satoru gojo calling you in the middle of the night, like he hasn't done in the last six months.

the last year, really.

a year ago you would've known who it was immediately and probably would've cursed satoru out for calling you at three in the morning to see if you wanted to go get ice cream with him (and then you would've gotten up and put on your shoes to find him outside of your room, already grinning).

but now you have to check the caller id.

you blink around in the dark--struggling through the dregs of dream you're still waking through--and sigh.

unfortunately, you've never had quite enough willpower to ignore this phone call. shoko has called you an idiot many times--too many times, actually--telling you that satoru's attention-seeking habits are not your responsibility. not that she's had to say that in a while, though... and it's not like you're going to sneak out in the middle of the night with him anymore--you can't sneak out. you have your own house. there’s no yaga to look down on you disapprovingly here.

and he hasn't called you in six months. you haven't even heard about him beyond some irritated remarks from yaga, and shoko's knowing glances when you try to nonchalantly bring him up.

and still.

it takes you a moment to pick up the phone, your thumb hitting the answer button before your mind can stop you.

"satoru?" you whisper, listening to the breathing on the other end.

there's some muffled moving around, and then a breath, and then someone in the background speaking, and then--

"i need your help." his voice is quiet like he doesn't want anyone to hear what he's saying.

what time is it? have you ever heard satoru say those words before?

your first thought is that he's on another mission. that there's a cursed spirit and he needs some assistance. but when has satoru gojo asked anyone for help with a cursed spirit? when has he ever needed it? suguru was typically there to keep him from--

you pause, sitting up in bed. this might be a nightmare, but usually, you're more accustomed to them. "where are you?" you ask him, speaking in the same soft voice.

you expect him to name off some city, some house, some country that you couldn't possibly get to. you expect him to crack a joke, say something to you about being lost without him, or laugh at how serious your voice sounds. but he only murmurs, "at your door."

like it isn't a completely crazy thing to say. how does he even know where you live?

"it's one in the morning," you say, frowning. some small part of you wants him to actually be there, expecting a knock to come from the void of your hallway. and the other, much bigger part, thank you, wants him to be joking.

"i know," he sighs, and the receiver is muffled again, and then, "can you open it?"

"what's going on?"

"please," he repeats. there's no joke to this. this is not satoru asking you if you want to go get donuts at six in the morning, or milkshakes at midnight. "i'll explain. i just need your help."

you bite back some remark about how he hasn't needed your help for the past year. about how he hasn't called, hasn't texted, and hasn't even asked about you since--

but you stand up, trying to untangle a knot in your hair. you hang up on him without answering. your heart gets a bit of satisfaction from that.

and go to your door, giving yourself two seconds to prepare for the real-life satoru in front of your face. blue-everything eyes, you think, wall white hair, and a stupid smile.

but when you open it, your eyes drift to his (sort of) like they're already sure of where exactly he might be, it isn't just him.

there's a little boy--as tall as satoru's waist, with dark hair and furrowed brows to match--standing in front of another little girl--the same dark hair, but blank face--glaring up at satoru like he's kidnapped both of them.

your eyes widen as you realize that he probably has.

"this is basically every kid's dream," he's telling this boy, his playful voice like they’ve known each other for years. "i got you candy and i'm letting you stay up late. why aren't you normal?"

"why aren't you?" this boy retorts, and his voice is hard. unreasonably sarcastic for such a small person. it might make you giggle, the obvious tension between the two of them, if you weren't so worried about these kids' poor parents, freaking out at their disappearance.

the little girl is the first to notice you there, and she waves, her face much softer, much more exhausted than the boys in front of her. but she doesn't look frightened; not concerned with wherever this strange man has taken the two of them.

and satoru looks up at the motion, his mouth turning as he looks at you.

the little boy frowns, but his eyes settle. there's a brief moment where he watches you and you think that he's about to start begging for your help, but then it's gone. and his eyes trail back to satoru, still angry.

you blink, swallowing at the three of them. this is not ice cream.

"satoru," you get out, eventually. "where did you get these kids?"

"okay," you set a glass of water on the coffee table, trying to put on a normal smile. your hands are shaking, so you tuck them under your sleeves. "i'm sorry i don't have a lot of extra blankets, but if you get cold i'll go look through some boxes and see what i can find."

it's been ten minutes with them inside your apartment, and you already feel like you're doing something wrong. satoru, obviously, just briefly introduced the two of them to you, before you grabbed his arm and dragged him--along with the kids that trailed behind--into your apartment.

you'd hissed at him about how it was cold, and one in the morning, and they needed to be asleep. he only smiled and asked how you were.

so now they're cuddled up on your couch, with your only spare blanket, both of them with dreary eyes. you're trying not to look too closely--to check if they've been crying, or if they're harmed in any sort of way.

the little boy--megumi--nods and tsumiki smiles at you.

how four little eyes can look so appreciative, you're not sure.

satoru is leaning against the wall behind you, watching you move around these children like it's normal, and you have to bite your tongue to keep from screaming at him.

"is there anything else you need?" you ask them, trying to be softer than you are. you should’ve taken that babysitting job when you were twelve; you’re completely out of your depth here.

megumi shakes his head.

"no, we're good," tsumiki says.

and you seriously want to get them to a hospital. where did they come from? why does satoru have them? is he insane? are they insane? have you just dreamt this all up?

"okay, satoru and i are just going to go talk in the kitchen for a bit. come get me if you need anything." and you smile again, taking a couple of hesitant steps as they both look away from you to the show that tsumiki put on when you handed her the remote.

at least they're not outside anymore.

you drag satoru into the kitchen, thinking about knocking the wind right out of him. he's always been particularly punchable, but right now he's even more so.

and he's smiling adoringly at you.

“satoru," you grind out, trying to keep your voice down. he leans against your countertop, crossing his legs.

and he hums inquisitively. “you know, i don’t think megumi likes me very much.”

“satoru.”

“not sure…" he scratches his head, white hair falling over his sunglasses. "i mean he’s kind of a weird kid but still. i took them to the store to pick out anything they wanted and neither of them got anything. even when i showed them the different cakes they had in the bakery. there were matcha rolls today, too. do you think they’re robots or something?”

“satoru. where did you get those children?” your voice is a step away from furious.

why is he here right now? why does he just barge into your life at unprecedented moments, acting like nothing has changed between the two of you?

acting like you haven't missed the sound of his voice or the way he speaks with his hands, or how he's standing right next to you, warmth radiating off of him like a toxin.

“is that important right now?” he asks. “we’re talking about their spending habits.”

“i’m talking about you. tell me that you didn’t steal them from the park and that i’m not obligated to report you.”

“are you serious?" he shakes his head at you, his voice still teasing, calm as ever. "you think i’d just take some random kids home with me?”

“i don’t know!" you tell him, finally breaking--your voice is raised, and you almost don't notice. "i don’t even know how you got here, or where you’ve been in the past six months, or whose children those are because they are certainly not yours.”

he pouts. “you don’t think they look like me?”

“you’re too pale.”

“that’s rude, you—“

“whose kids are they? now, satoru.”

you hope your face looks intimidating, but honestly, your demand is more like a suggestion when it comes to satoru. he can listen or he can leave.

you don't know which one you want more.

there’s a beat of silence where he rubs his foot on the ground, messing up your tiled floors probably. and then he sighs, relenting. “…toji zenin’s.”

he could’ve said anything else and you wouldn’t even care. oh, he found those kids abandoned in a warehouse on a mission? cool. oh, he found some long-lost cousins? great. if it were anything else, you would've waved him off and told him that he needed to get them new clothes, or something.

but this?

“what?!”

“shh. you’re the one who said they need to sleep," he tries to look around the corner of your hallway, even though you both know he doesn't need to.

you’re gawking at him, but, really, can it be helped?

“toji zenin?!”

“well technically fushiguro according to the records i dug up. but zenin nonetheless...”

“you stole his kids?!”

“i didn’t steal—“

“he tries to kill you so you kill him instead and take his children hostage?!”

this would be a wonderful moment to wake up.

satoru waves this statement off, frowning. “you’re really brushing over the ‘tried to kill me’ part. what? you don’t care about me?”

“why do you have them, satoru? what are you planning to do? torture them for information?" your eyes are wide and your heart is panicked. "they’re kids—“

he scowls. “of course not.”

“then what? tell me everything, starting from when toji tried to kill you.”

“why do you automatically think i did something?" he complains. "it’s not like i asked zenin to kill me first. i didn’t bait him into slicing my throat open.”

“because you always start the problems.”

“not true. sometimes i solve them, and sometimes i—“

“how did you find out about them?”

he sighs. “he told me about megumi, before he, ya know,” and then he makes a motion across his neck. and a terrible noise that supposedly indicates death.

you don't even mock him for it “why?” you ask.

“megumi might inherit the zenin technique. he’s worth a lot to the zenin clan, and i guess that toji made a deal with them.”

“you guess?”

“well, it’s not like i had a whole lot of time between the resurrection and murdering thing to ask him. i didn’t invite the guy out for tea so he could tell me about his pride and joy," his voice is riddled with sarcasm, so you can't decide if he's joking or not.

he is the most infuriating person you've ever met.

“so what? he asked you to keep megumi away from them?”

“no, he didn’t seem the sentimental type. maybe he told me cause he didn’t want megumi to grow up there, or maybe he told me so i could claim the prize money for myself.” he shrugs. “it doesn’t matter.”

you glare at him. “oh, it doesn’t?”

“no. i asked megumi what he wanted and this was it. he doesn’t want to live there and leave tsumiki behind, or have her live in that misogynistic shithole.”

“how old is he?”

satoru almost winces. "uh, six?”

“you don’t even know how old he is?” you close your eyes, shaking your head.

“he’s in first grade! we haven’t gone through all of the basics yet.”

“and tsumiki?”

“…nine.”

“satoru.”

“i’ll figure it out. megumi acts like he’s fifty years old anyway, so what do i care?”

you can practically see him rolling his eyes.

“what do you care?" you repeat, mocking. "you just told me that megumi made this decision for himself. he's a kid. he probably doesn’t understand—“

“he understands that if he goes to the zenin clan his sister will suffer in whatever way they deem fit. i mean, you know what it’s like for girls there—especially without any cursed energy.”

“you cant just make this decision for them on a whim, satoru. have you thought any of it through? where are they going to stay? who’s going to watch them when you’re sent away? where are they going to go to school? what if megumi does inherit his cursed technique?”

“all of that doesn’t matter. i'll figure it out," he waves off the topic of their lives like it's a mere suggestion, "what matters is that i keep those kids from being subjected to a life of servitude and competition. that they get to be kids while they can.”

you swallow. is there a way not to be frightened by this? “i know—i know where you’re coming from," you give him a weak smile, trying not to yell, or fight, or question this so much that satoru shuts down. "it’s nice of you to be… worried about them. but this isn’t like taking in a lost kitten, satoru. these are children.”

“do you really feel the need to point that out?”

“yes. what do you know about kids?”

he smiles, wide. “nothing!” he exclaims. “that’s why i came here. and you’re already doing a great job.”

you frown. “what do i know about kids?”

“well, you like them, don’t you?”

“what?”

“when we went to that daycare center during second year you played with all of the kids. you like them," he nods as if affirming it himself.

you went to a daycare with satoru once to take care of a grade three curse and apparently, it's led him to insanity.

“you’re comparing my hide-and-seek skills to taking care of those two kids on my own?"

“i mean, i’ll be here too...”

“taking care of three children on my own?” you correct.

satoru pouts.

you think about what suguru told you after riko amanai died; about satoru and the shift within him. some sort of manic strength he hasn't uttered a word about since.

but you continue, swallowing. "what's this really about?" you ask, softly, trying not to be mad, or worried, or concerned about why he came here to you. "it's not like you to... take responsibility for something you're not responsible for."

his pout turns into a frown. you can see his brows furrow. "you don't think i'm capable of helping people?"

"i know you're capable. but why? why now? i mean, it's been a year since toji died, and you're just getting them now? you suddenly remembered what he said to you?"

"i had to figure out the logistics of toji's deal."

"okay," you shake your head, "but still. why not have a family take them in? find someone who can give them a relatively normal life before they're pushed into all of this?"

satoru's face is blank. "no. what happens when megumi is eight and his new 'parents' put him in a hospital because he's seeing things that they can't?"

for the first time since he's walked through your front door, he sounds almost serious.

"i--"

"what happens when they're afraid of him because he draws in cursed energy? when his 'family' rejects him like yours did? like suguru's did?"

"satoru."

"honestly, do you think that's any better?" he gestures to your living room, to the kids he's proclaimed responsibility for. "if he does inherit his technique then the zenin clan will go looking for him anyway, and he won't be able to protect himself because there was no one to teach him how. no matter where he goes he's going to be ripped away from tsumiki, who seems to be the only thing he actually cares about. he didn't even want to know--"

"is this about suguru?" you ask him, the words falling before you can catch them.

satoru stills. you can see every one of his muscles tense. preparing for a fight. "what?"

"are you trying to... make up for his decisions? do you feel guilty? is megumi supposed to replace him?"

"replace him?"

"i know you think that you can take care of everything on your own, satoru, but you can't. it's not your fault that toji died. and it's not your fault that suguru left--"

"it is my fault." he says, so softly the words are almost caught before they can reach you. "it is."

you shake your head. you should've had this conversation months ago. a year ago, before any of this could happen.

"c'mon, y/n," he continues, no laughter, no smile, no swagger. "i saw what was happening. everyone did. but i was his best friend. i was supposed to be there for him."

"suguru didn't want you there. he didn't want you to be a part of it."

"well i could've stopped him. even if i couldn't save suguru--" his voice cracks on his name. "i could've saved everyone else. but i didn't."

"that's... that's a ridiculous suggestion. how are you supposed to kill your best friend? why should you have to save everyone? why would you even--"

"megumi isn't some replacement. he's a little boy, and if i'm not there for him then he's going to be stuck with his family. just like i was. he's going to be used for his cursed energy and who knows how he'll turn out? if he'll kill people recklessly like toji, or die trying to do the right thing?"

you're silent.

"i'm the only one who can protect him from this," satoru says, and you realize that he's been thinking about this for the past year. that every second since he almost died, this has been on his mind. "they're not going to touch him if i make it clear that i won't let them. i won't--i'm not going to let him become someone he doesn't want to be."

you sigh. "satoru..."

his body moves at your voice and he smiles again, shaking off whatever anger you drew out. it's almost a complete shift in who you're talking to. like the stakes no longer matter to him; these kids are just another obstacle to face, a power to control.

like he's remembered the role he's supposed to play.

"besides, someone's going to need to take over for me eventually. i might as well train him myself."

you cant see his eyes, and that’s probably good. you wish someone else were here to take your side, explain to satoru that he’s just a kid himself. that he shouldn't have to take care of everything on his own.

because when it’s just you, he always has the upper hand. he always gets his way.

"okay," you say, eventually, after you realize that you'll never win this fight. that you don’t want to fight with him at all.

"okay?" he repeats. "so you'll help me?"

"help you?"

"yeah. why do you think i brought them over here?"

you pause. "you want me... to what? raise them?"

"with me, yes."

"are you kidding?"

"no. you're probably the only person i trust to help."

the words do something almost indescribable to your body. the person you were a year ago would've cried out in relief, would've clung to him like glue to paper.

but you frown instead. "seriously?"

"you've already taken care of them better than i could. look." he drags you around the corner to where tsumiki has her head on megumi's, both of them snoring softly, folded into the blanket you gave them.

the tv flickers in the background, bothering neither of them. how they've managed to fall asleep with all of the yelling that's been going on, you don't know.

"see? they already feel safe around you."

"they're exhausted," you correct, but feel yourself soften at the sight of them. they are kinda cute without the scowl or concern plaguing their faces.

"we're going to be great parents," satoru coos, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

you push him away. "we are not their parents. we are... permanent babysitters. nannies."

satoru fixes you with an amused look. "okay."

"and you still owe me an explanation. i want a complete narrative about what you've been doing for the past six months. and how you found the two of them."

"okay," he steps closer to you again like you won't notice.

"and--" you don't have anything else. it's one in the morning. how clear is your mind supposed to be? "and you're paying for anything they need."

"uh huh."

eventually, you sigh. it's a surprise that you've lasted this long. "fine. i'll help you. but only because they'd probably die if they spent more than twenty-four consecutive hours with you."

satoru doesn't say anything--not to whine or roll his eyes--and it's a small acknowledgment, a thank you he doesn't have to say out loud. he'll take this win, at least.

the two of you watch them, relaxing into the wall.

after a minute satoru whispers. "by the way..."

"what?"

"i didn't tell megumi that i killed toji."

you turn to him. your eye might as well start twitching.

"what? he said he didn't want to know--"

you're sneaking into the kitchen when you notice him sitting at the table. his hands are crossed in front of him, his eyes focused on a stain you haven't been able to get off of the wood.

he's very small, you realize, watching him. his hair is messier than it was the night before, sticking to his head like he slept slumped against it.

he's not doing anything, really. just sitting there. you can see his legs swinging in the air.

and before you can prepare for what to say to this little boy who you're probably going to be spending a lot of time with, your mouth is open. "hey," you say to him, just whispering.

tsumiki must be sleeping.

megumi looks up, quickly, like he wasn't expecting you to be there. his eyes are wide like he's been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. but then he slumps down again and gives you a brief nod in acknowledgment. then looks back down, because the table is very interesting.

you wonder how many mornings he's woken up alone, with no one to tuck him back in.

"can't sleep?" you ask him, standing across from him and leaning against the table.

"this is when i usually wake up," you recall his voice the night before when satoru was teasing him, rougher than a boy's should be. but it's soft now, quiet.

it's probably seven if the clock on your bedside table is to be believed.

"you were up pretty late, though."

he almost rolls his eyes, remembering the events of the night before.

and you can tell that he doesn't really want to talk to you. he doesn't know anything about you, or what you want with him. why should he trust you?

you clear your throat. "how old are you?"

he looks up again. "six. why?"

"satoru wasn't sure."

this time, megumi actually rolls his eyes. you're familiar with this sort of annoyance directed at satoru, so you smile, just a little bit. at least there's something you can relate to.

"and tsumiki?"

"seven."

you nod, stepping away.

what do you say to a boy who has been dragged into your home by a maniac?

you sigh, clearing your throat again. "are you hungry?"

megumi's eyes narrow. there's a brief second between the two of you, where some sort of understanding passes through his eyes. who was the last person to make him breakfast?

and then he nods, slowly.

you smile. "okay. c'mon, let's see if i have anything you like."

next part.

1K notes · View notes

quin-ns · 1 year

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Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go.

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth.

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath.

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck.

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?”

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.” If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets.

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party.

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours.

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment).

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well.

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.”

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.”

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.”

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene.

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head.

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you.

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least.

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion.

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea.

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?”

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you.

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it.

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted.

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!”

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away.

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly.

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

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r0ttenhearts · 10 months

Text

wasted on you |||

idol scaramouche x reader

part Ii

“ohmygosh, have you heard 4nemo’s new single?

“it’s sooo good (y/n!) you have to listen to it.”

“who’s your favorite one? mine would have to be scaramouche.”

your smile would always falter at the mention of his name. not like your friends ever knew you were acquaintanced with the idol group. “i don’t really like idol stuff, it’s not my thing.” you would always brush them off, refusing to take one of their earbuds to listen to the songs they wanted to show you.

hearing scaramouche’s voice again wouldn’t help you, not when you’ve gotten this far. not when you’ve moved on from him.

with college exams over and the end of your final year coming to a close you found yourself with nothing but time. with time came too many thoughts that would tumble around in your mind. too many what if’s and what could have been’s had plagued your mind since leaving scaramouche there backstage.

leaving him was so difficult, but being without him felt harder. you couldn’t help but sigh, now sitting alone in your room as the memories came back to you.

memories of splitting popsicles with him, after rehearsal drinks with his friends, smoking in a field together one of the rare times he was free from his filled schedule.

sometimes you couldn’t help but miss it. but then came the.. not so pleasant memories. the tears, the sore throat after screaming at each other, the way he’d always leave after an argument.

“please, scara! i just want you here with me. just this once. it’s been three years. give me this at least, please. i haven’t seen you in so long.”

remembering your own pleads to him never failed to make your heart ache. it still felt as if there was something unresolved, even after giving him his engagement ring back.

“i don’t wanna fucking see you (y/n)! id rather spend time with my friends doing something i enjoy than wasting my time with you.”

here comes the waterworks. tears would prick in the corners of your eyes when you remembered his tone that day. that angry look on his face.. he never looked so bothered before. it scared you so much that you still remembered it now, two years later.

it was strange seeing him on billboards and ads all across town and even on your own phone. in contrast to the angry glare he held for you, but an indifferent look to the public. would he still look at you that way? or would he look at you the same way he would everyone else?

curiosity got the best of you as you tapped on your phone, looking up his profile on instagram. there he was, looking the same as ever. maybe a little thinner but he still looked as beautiful as the day you left him.

a small smile graced your lips for a moment before it fell, seeing how much fun he had been having with his friends. you still kept in contact with kazuha, but never bothered to ask about him. you both knew it wouldn’t be good for you, so it was an unspoken rule.

“at least he’s doing well..” you mumbled to yourself before shutting off your phone. groaning internally, you knew this was a problem you had to deal with. this constant turmoil inside your head.

you decided you’d put an end to this. once and for all. you thought up a plan before texting kazuha, telling him what you wanted to resolve. despite his gentle warnings you wouldn’t listen. you just had to get through to him! make him understand your reasoning.

eventually kazuha gave in, and now you were standing in the pit to one of their concerts. it made you feel queasy remembering the last time you attended one. with your head hung low you waited for the group to start, they were opening for another up and coming idol group. it almost made you smile seeing scaramouche walk on stage with that glittery white outfit. the same glare on his features as before. he didn’t change, did he?

that sentiment making anxiety well up inside of you. you didn’t know how he would take it. seeing you again after so long. but you didn’t want him to know you were there to begin with, so you hid away from view, angled at a way that you could still watch them perform.

watching them now reminded you of one of the first concerts you ever went to of theirs, thanks to scaramouche getting tickets for you. that feeling of bubbling excitement and anxiousness when they were still so early in their career. you used to genuinely hope that they would make it, and they did!

his singing was stronger than it used to be, voice full of emotions as his eyes were fixated on the mic. a part of you missed this. coming to his shows, watching him give his all to the crowd of people that came just to see him and his friends.

as the group left the stage you sent a text to kazuha, walking away from the crowd and to the meeting spot he had told you about. it wasn’t like you didn’t already know where they were going, they always went to the same bar after every performance.

pushing open the grimy doors to the bar, you could see his back as you walked in. scaramouche was sitting at a table with his friends, drink in hand already as you walked up to them. you pulled out a seat next to scaramouche, crossing your arms over your chest as the guys looked at you excitedly, scaramouche not sharing the same sentiment.

“hey guys, long time no see.” heizou laughed loudly, patting scaramouche on his shoulder as they left the table. now it was just you and scaramouche.

he held this look of shock on his face, like he’d seen a ghost. his mouth slightly opening and closing, almost like a fish.

“hey.” you said softly, putting your hand on his arm. “are you real?” he asked you, now looking directly at you rather than trying not to meeting your gaze.

“of course i am, what do you mean by that? have you been dreaming about me too?” you ask, half joking but half serious as he had been plaguing your dreams for the past few months.

“don’t say things like that (y/n)..” he spoke quietly, taking a sip of his beer. you nod silently, watching him take a sip of his drink.

“i know, this is kind of weird. especially since i’m the one that left you but, it’s been haunting me. and i just want to talk.” you admit to him, looking down at your hands. suddenly your nails seemed much more interesting than to look at him.

“yeah, i think we’re due for that.” he said before sliding his drink over, taking your hands in his without warning. “look, (y/n). i know that back then i wasn’t great to you, far from it actually. i’ve thought about what you said to me that night ever since. i’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor am i asking you to get back together with me. but i just want you to know that i’m sorry. i regret wasting us, wasting what we had. i do love being an idol, but it doesn’t give me the same satisfaction as i got when i was with you.”

you nodded silently at his words, looping your arms around his neck as you hugged him. the words you had longed to hear were now finally being said. “that’s all i wanted.” you spoke quietly in his ear, your voice cracking with tears. “i just wanted that from you scara.”

you wiped your tears away as you pulled back, taking one of his hands in both of yours. “i want to be in your life again, not as lovers, not yet. but as friends. i’ve missed you all this time.” scaramouche nodded, taking his free hand and placing it on top of yours. “i can work with that.”

what you both didn’t see were the rest of the boys from 4nemo watching the scene unfold from the bar window. heizou’s loud cheering being shushed by xiao as both of your heads whipped to the window, red covering your faces in embarrassment.

taglist: @lemons4u @foxkunwoof @s-h-i-r-o-8-1 @felixilations @kaxukaxu @angelofdarkness2 @trxshhsstufftatsumimiko @ycugtf @nervouseaglelover @whorerificstuff @samarill

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #wanderer x you #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche angst #scara angst #scaramouche x y/n #scara x you #scara x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #genshin scara #scaramouche fluff

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manicpixiefelix · 5 months

Text

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

----

At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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lw6-woso · 6 months

Text

coping mechanism (Leah Williamson x reader)

OCD, it was something. when you first joined the Arsenal squad in 2018 the girls took notice quickly that you were some one of a clean an organising freak. the first time they really noticed was when they walked into your apartment for a team bonding night. everything was highly organised, you books you food and everything was perfectly clean like it was really impressive.

so when you and Leah moved in together, Leah got first hand of the struggles of our OCD and not just been organised and neat. the anxiety, the mood swings all the bad things Leah has witnessed.

it was a normal day and you both had just gotten back from training, you both showered and Leah went to do some work in the office whilst you were doing some organisation in the kitchen since it was getting on your last nerve. you were currently taking out everything from the cupboards and cleaning the cupboards, the things in the cupboards and then organising everything.

Leah had walked in half way through you being in your moment, and signed knowing that you were getting bad, that's what the girls like to call it it was stages, you would clean simple for example hoover and polish, you would clean excessively like lamps and do a real spring clean and then you would slowly get worse with organising closets, clothes and then going through the house and organising every part of the house over and over again. during these stages your wellbeing would get worse with your mood changes, sleep it would all get worse. worse was a key word in this situation.

Leah always struggled with this sort of things, never knowing the triggers as you didn't even know, it just happened.

"hey baby what you doing" she asked leaning on the door frame.

"this kitchen has been bothering me for a while" i said finishing off another cupboard.

"okay so what do you want for tea tonight" she said not knowing if the kitchen will be in cooking conditions tonight.

"takeout" you said almost instantly.

"okay what food you thinking" She said.

"i don't know I'm not that hungry you can choose love" you said to her and she nodded leaving you to it. Leah walked back into the office and ordered food and and asked Kim for some advise.

you were really getting along with the Kitchen finishing all the cupboards and sweeping and mopping before leaving the kitchen. you were walking towards the office still feeling awful you couldn't even describe the deep feeling you had within you. walking into the office you sat next to Leah fidgeting about.

"come on" Leah said getting up and grabbing your hand.

"what" you asked.

"we are going for a drive" she said as you walked out of the house. you didn't question what she was doing. you just let Leah drive off.

"what about food" you asked.

"we will pick it up" She said, and you did just that you picked up the food and continued to drive and drive hoping it'll clear your head. Leah parked up in front of the sunset, you sat there in silence not knowing what to say.

"what caused it" she said and you knew exactly what she was going on about and you knew the answer.

"my therapist suggested to change my prescription" you said.

"oh love, why didn't say anything" she said.

"i don't know i just thought id be fine" you said.

"so how do you feel about it all" she asked.

"in my gut i think its good idea like i haven't had to many slips and I'm progressing with everything but in my mind i think that if it change everything its just going to get worse and ill end up like i did after covid and i cant do that again" you said.

during and after covid was awful for you the germs and the news go to you and to summaries it all you refused to play football and when you did start to come back to training you went through a breakdown and you didn't come to training or play for almost a month.

"you won't because you have a strong support system and i think personally i think that you should try to change your dose so then if it doesn't work then you really know where you are and if you are improving and if it does work then your getting there its a long process as you know" she said.

"yeah" you said.

"one step at a time" she said and you looked at her and kissed her.

"i love you" you said to her.

"i love you more" she said back.

"not possible" you said to her kissing her again.

"right lets get home I'm shattered" Leah said and you agreed it had been a long day.

you both went home and straight to bed. over the next couple of weeks you agreed to change your dose and it had been the best decision you had made during the journey, you felt more free. you obviously had your moments with cleaning, that will never change as you were always a clean person before your diagnosis, but Leah was right with having a strong supportive system all the girls were rocks, and Leah especially having her to come home to made life so much easier.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 25 days

Text

Asylum | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (take care of yourselves my lovebugs)

Word Count: 5444

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and the boys had bonded quite a lot since Kansas. You and Sam had always been close; bonding over random pop culture debates, philosophical musings, and your interest in the pursuit of knowledge. It was your relationship with Dean that was really starting to confuse you.

You knew you were attracted to him; that much you had never denied. But it was the way your heart seemed to tug toward him in your chest when you two made your pinky promise next to his car that confused the hell out of you. You and Dean were friends, and that was truly all you needed from him. Or, at least, that was what you told yourself.

Sam was on the phone with one of his father’s friends named Caleb. The boys were growing frustrated at their inability to find him. Every lead they followed was a dead end.

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s,” Sam suggested.

“We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail,” Dean rebutted.

Sam shook his head. “I don't care anymore.”

Dean’s cell phone rang on the bed next to you. You got up to bring it over to him.

“After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean, he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and… nothing. You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

Dean took the phone from you. “Don't say that! He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?” Sam argued.

Dean went to respond, but the message on his cell phone caught his attention. “Huh. I don't believe it.”

“What?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.

“It's, uh, it's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean immediately opened his laptop and began clacking away.

“You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asked.

“He's given us coordinates before,” Dean said.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.”

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”

“Nah, it said 'unknown,’ “ Dean replied.

“Well, where do the coordinates point?”

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Interesting how?” you asked him.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He handed the paper to you. “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam questioned.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” Dean flipped to the page. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths; till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorted. “This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.”

“Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.”

“Who cares! If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!”

“Guys—” Their bickering had gotten more frequent in days of late, and it was beginning to bug the shit out of you.

“This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam pressed.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.”

Sam made a bitchface at his brother and sighed.

***

Your destination was a bar in Rockford you had stalked the cop you knew was the partner of the deceased. You found him sitting at the bar, nursing a beer. You monitored the scene from a few tables behind. Dean was to meet you there after his interaction with the cop.

“You're Daniel Gunderson. You're a cop, right?” he asked.

The cop nodded.

“Huh. I'm uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I do. I'm just tryin' to have a beer here.”

“That's okay, I swear it won't take that long. I just want to get the story in your words,” Dean continued.

The cop was not amused. “A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he's dead. You gonna ambush me here?”

“Sorry. But I need to know what happened.”

Sam came up and pushed Dean aside roughly. “Hey buddy, why don't you leave the poor guy alone! The man's an officer! Why dontcha show a little respect!”

He was calling an unnecessary amount of attention to himself that amused you slightly. Dean paused, glaring before walking over to you.

“Spinal Tap?” you questioned, laughing, referencing his fake name. “Seriously?” The two of you began walking out of the bar over to the Impala.

“What? It’s a classic!”

“I’m not arguing that,” you said. “But what are the chances he knew your reference?” You sat on the hood next to Dean.

“Oh, come on, we’re probably the only two people in Rockford who even know what Spinal Tap is,” he remarked.

A moment of silence passed between the two of you.

“How’s your neck healing?” Dean asked.

You turned your neck up to him. There was still quite a bit of bruising from the way you were strangled back in Kansas. He sucked in air through his teeth. “That’s gotta hurt, huh?”

“Meh, a bit,” you answered. “I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Are we ever gonna talk about Kansas?”

“Hmm… I did pinky-promise,” you jested.

“That you did.” He looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “My dad was uh, a bit of an asshole. The man’s dead and I still can’t decide if I love or hate him. He was mean. And that’s putting it mildly. For instance, like, one time, I missed a shot on a hunt, and he beat me til I was black and blue later that night. Said it was gonna make me sharper, and he’d rather me hate him than fuck up again like that on a hunt. I was twelve.”

“Wow,” Dean responded quietly. “How young were you when he started taking you on hunts?”

“Ten.”

“Holy crap. Could you even hold a gun at that age?’

“Please, I’ve been able to hold a gun since I was four. He said I needed a dose of reality if I wanted to complain so much about being in the motel room with my brother.”

He nodded. “How much younger was your brother?”

“Two years.” You smiled at the memory of him, but your smile quickly faded. “I, uh, took beatings for him a lot.”

Dean nodded again. He paused for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged and sighed. “It’s over now.”

“Yeah, but I know it still hurts.”

You don’t know what made you do it, but you leaned your head on his shoulder. He tensed under you briefly, but let you keep your head there.

You hadn’t noticed Sam walked out of the bar and was approaching the two of you. “You two look cozy.”

You jerked away from Dean.

“Bite me,” the older Winchester answered. "Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy.”

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting,” Sam quipped.

Dean looked confused.

“Never mind.”

“What'd you find out from Gunderson?” you asked.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.”

“What about at home?”

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him,” Dean nodded. “What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”

“A lot.” Sam filled you in on the local legends and experiences teens had in the place. Kids frequently dared each other to spend the night because it was said everyone who stayed all night went crazy.

You and the boys arrived at the asylum a little while later. The interior of the building was gray and gloomy. Metal carts were laying on their sides, vials spilled all over the ground, and you were sure you would find needles sticking out of the soles of your boots by the end of the endeavor. Dust covered every surface, flaring up your allergy, and every few minutes you were sneezing.

“So apparently the cops chased the kids here… into the south wing,” Sam described, gesturing to the sign above the door.

“South wing, huh? Wait a second…” He pulled out his dad’s journal. “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it,” you continued.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean questioned.

You noticed a broken chain on one of the doors. “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years. Keep people out or keep something in.”

Sam slowly pushed the door open, and the three of you began heading down the hallway.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel,” Dean remarked at his brother. He was passing his EMF meter over various surfaces in the hallway.

“Dude, enough,” Sam groaned.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”

“I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“And that’s not ESP?” you quipped.

Sam made a face at you. “Okay, maybe it is, but—”

You snickered.

“Not funny, (Y/N/N).” He playfully shoved your shoulder. “You get any reading on that thing or not?”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.”

“Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day.”

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.”

“Hey, Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Dean deadpanned.

You and Dean laughed, and Sam shoved the both of you. The three of you entered another room. You looked around, a sinking feeling hitting your stomach.

“Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people,” you shook your head.

“Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest.” Dean made crazy eyes and grinned at you and Sam.

Sam ignored him and his smile dropped.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean questioned.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting,” Sam suggested.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean grinned again.

“You are such a nerd,” you mumbled.

“Hey, don’t talk about Sam like that,” Dean gibed back, even though he knew you were talking about him.

“Dean. When are we going to talk about it?” Sam asked his brother.

“Talk about what?”

“About the fact Dad's not here.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Oh. I see. How ’bout… never.”

“I'm being serious, man. He sent us here.”

“So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here,” said Dean gruffly. “We'll pick up the search later.”

“It doesn't matter what he wants.”

“See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

You scoffed. “C’mon, guys, cut it out.”

Sam ignored you. “Dad could be in trouble; we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.”

You loved Sam, but you were on Dean’s side. Your father’s training probably programmed you that way.

“So, what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam bit back.

“Of course we do.”

Sam huffed frustratedly. Dean stared back and then turned away, ending the conversation.

You started poking around the room a bit more. You picked up a dusty sign off the floor and sneezed again. “ 'Sanford Ellicott'... You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here.” You put the sign back down and walked away from the boys.

***

You and Dean dropped Sam off at a therapy session with Sanford Ellicott’s son, James Ellicott. You figured it was the best way to get information from someone close to the situation. In the meantime, you and Dean spent some time hanging out in the Impala.

Conversation between the two of you never felt forced. You still enjoyed pushing each other’s buttons, but you genuinely got along very well.

“Okay, so, I told you about my fucked up family, you need to talk about yours,” you told Dean.

He scoffed and gave you a bitchface. “Says who?”

“Says me. Now, spill.”

Dean seemed uncomfortable.

You took the hint. “Okay, if you don’t wanna talk about it now, will you tell me at some point?”

He nodded and stuck out his pinky with a smirk. “Promise.”

A smile spread across your face and you linked his finger with yours. “Okay, then. Different question. What’s your favorite color?”

He scoffed lightheartedly. “What?”

“I’m serious! What’s your favorite color? Mine’s (Y/F/C).”

“Blue,” he answered.

“Like, baby blue or navy blue?”

“Definitely closer to navy,” he told you. He was eyeing you strangely again.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked him.

“You… confuse me.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow. “Why?”

He shook his head. The one thing you hated about Dean was his inability to talk about quite literally any of his feelings.

“Will you ever tell me why?” you asked.

He nodded and stuck out his pinky again. You smiled warmly and took it.

***

“He’s been in there for-fucking-ever,” you groaned, pushing yourself off the wall of the building.

As if on cue, Sam walked out at that moment.

“Dude! What the hell were you talking about?” you asked as you headed back to the car with the brothers.

“Just the hospital, you know,” Sam responded.

“And...?” Dean pushed.

“And the south wing? It's where the housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.”

“Sounds cozy.”

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.”

“So the patients took over the asylum?” you questioned.

“Apparently,” Sam answered.

“Any deaths?”

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Awesome. What do you mean ‘never recovered’?”

“Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”

“That's grim,” the older brother commented.

“Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down,” Sam explained.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.”

“And a bunch of angry spirits.”

Dean chuckled humorlessly. “Good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight.”

***

You held a shotgun full of rock salt round, Sam a video camera and flashlight, and Dean his EMF meter.

“Getting readings?” Sam asked as you walked down the labyrinth of hallways in the asylum.

“Yeah, big time,” his brother responded.

“This place is orbing like crazy.”

“All of these unrecovered bodies are probably causing it,” you added.

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” Dean’s unwavering confidence cracked a little in a rare moment of vulnerability.

The three of you continued searching. You and Sam split off to one room and Dean took another. You looked around the debris scattered through the room to try and find some of the bodies.

Sam’s yelp caused you to wheel around “(Y/N), shotgun!” he called to you

You came up behind him. “Sam, drop!”

He obeyed and you shot the apparition in front of him square in the face.

Dean came running into the room. “What happened?”

“That was weird.” Sam was breathless when he got up from the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him as the three of you made your way out of the room. “Why?”

“She didn't attack me,” the younger brother replied.

“Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing,” you retorted.

“She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?”

You shook your head and shrugged. You and the brothers jerked in the direction of a sound coming from a room you were passing. You raised your shotgun, and your eyes flicked to Sam’s. He nodded at you to go into the room first. You approached a ragged metal bed that had been turned on its side in the corner of the room. You could see something hiding behind it.

Sam tipped the bed over and you aimed the shotgun at the thing behind it. However, the girl hiding behind it screeched and jerked further back into the corner.

“It's alright,” Dean told her, “we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?”

“Katherine. Kat.”

“Okay. I'm Dean, this is Sam and (Y/N).”

“What are you doing here!?” you asked her.

“Um, my boyfriend, Gavin,” she replied shakily.

“Is he here?” Dean questioned.

Kat nodded. “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just… you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and…” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.

“Alright. Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.” Dean gestured between the two of you.

“No! No,” she protested. “I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.”

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous,” Dean responded.

“That's why I gotta find him.”

You looked over at Sam, who shrugged.

“Alright, I guess we gonna split up then. Let's go,” Dean commanded your group. Kat went with Dean and you headed off with Sam. You kept your shotgun raised just behind Sam, tension gripping your chest.

“Gavin.... Gavin?” Sam called.

A few minutes of walking later, you noticed a figure on the ground unconscious. Sam crouched to wake the boy up, and you lowered your gun.

Gavin awoke and freaked out, pushing himself away from you and Sam.

You were consistently impressed by Sam’s ability to calm others down. “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, We’re here to help.”

Gavin calmed down considerably, but still sounded slightly panicked. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sam, this is (Y/N). Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” Gavin got up from the floor. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” you asked.

“I was running. I think I fell.”

“Running from… what?” you questioned.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up,” he explained.

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam asked.

Gavin looked back at Sam and shook his head. “What? No, she... uh…”

“She what?”

“She kissed me.” Gavin’s cheeks flared in embarrassment.

Sam seemed to feel uncomfortable, too. “Uh, um, but- but she didn't hurt you, physically?”

His eyes widened. “Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!”

“Well, trust me, it could have been a lot worse,” you snickered. “Do you remember anything else?”

“She uh, actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.”

“What?”

Gavin shook his head. “I don't know. I ran like hell.”

You scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “Okay, let’s go.”

The three of you went walking on, only to hear a female scream and Dean calling Kat’s name. The three of you broke off running toward the sound.

“What's going on?” you asked Dean as you approached him. He was trying to jimmy open a heavy metal door with a pipe.

“She's inside with one of them,” the older Winchester explained.

“Help me!” Kat screamed from the inside.

“Kat!” her boyfriend called back.

“Get me outta here!”

Sam pushed Gavin back to get against the door. “Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.”

You and Dean turned to Sam. “She's gotta what?!” you exclaimed in unison.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it,” Sam urged.

“You face it!” Kat protested.

“No! It's the only way to get out of there.”

“No!” she cried.

“Look at it, come on. You can do it,” Sam told her.

And then, quiet. There was nothing for a few minutes.

“Kat?” Gavin called through the door.

You and the brothers backed away from it. “Man, I hope you're right about this,” Dean told his brother.

“Yeah, me too.”

At that moment, the lock clicked and the door slowly opened. Kat stood in the doorway, shock overcoming her face.

“Oh, Kat.” Gavin hugged his girlfriend.

You headed into the room Kat had been locked in. Nothing. You came back out and shook your head at the brothers.

“One thirty-seven,” Kat muttered.

Dean quirked a brow. “Sorry?”

“It whispered in my ear. One thirty-seven.”

“Room number,” you and the boys muttered in sync.

The three of you crouched along the wall and led the teenagers back to the exit. Sam was to take them out of the asylum while you and Dean went to investigate room 137.

You sneezed again for the umpteenth time. Your eyes were itching you, too.

“Are you allergic to me or something?” Dean asked you as you moved down the hall toward room 137.

You giggled. “No. Dust.”

“Aw, sweetheart—” he mocked, “—don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the dust bunnies.”

You rubbed your nose and sniffed. “I’m gonna kill you.” You pushed against the door of room 137, only to meet major resistance. You figured there was a bunch of furniture blocking it.

“Move, move,” Dean told you. Of course, he shoved the door open with ease. He looked at you smugly.

“Whatever,” you deadpanned, pushing past him into the room. You moved your flashlight around the dark room, finding tons of papers scattered over the floor. Filing cabinets were laying on their sides and a desk was completely broken in half. You sifted through folders in one of the only upright file cabinets.

Dean was behind you, and you could hear wood creaking. He grunted. You turned to see him trying to pry a wood panel off the wall.

“Need help, princess?” you asked.

“No,” he grunted once more, finally jerking the panel off. Inside was a satchel that was relatively dust free. “This is why I get paid the big bucks.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

The two of you pulled up chairs next to one another and began flipping through the journal inside the satchel. There were mad scribblings and hand-drawn pictures of the strangest medical instruments.

“Well, all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy,” Dean remarked.

“This is insane,” you muttered, disgust overtaking you as you read the doctor’s accounts of what he had done to his patients.

“Yeah, I want this fucker nice and crispy,” Dean said. “C’mon.”

He led you back to the exit of the asylum, and Dean jerked back into you suddenly at the sound of a shotgun.

“Damn it, damn it, don't shoot! It's us!” Dean called, trying to catch his breath.

You heard Kat from around the corner next. “Sorry! Sorry.”

“Son of a…” Dean huffed out a quick breath. He led you around the corner. “What are you still doing here?! Where's Sam?”

“He went to the basement. You called him,” Gavin said, looking at Dean dumbfounded.

“We didn’t call anybody,” you returned.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was Dean.” Kat was confused, too.

You and Dean came to the realization of what happened.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Basement, huh?”

Dean found Sam’s discarded duffel bag and grabbed an extra handgun. He handed it to you and grabbed a shotgun for himself. “Alright. Watch yourselves. And watch out for me!”

***

You and Dean had your guards up immediately upon entering the basement. The two of you called out to Sam, only to get no response. When you turned around, however, Sam was right in front of you. “Holy shit, dude!” you lowered your handgun. “I almost shot you.”

“Man, answer me when I'm calling you! You alright?” Dean said.

Sam sounded different to you. “Yeah. I'm fine.”

You eyed him strangely.

“You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?” his older brother told him.

“Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here.”

“I think I know who. Dr. Ellicott. That's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?”

Sam shook his head. “No. How do you know it was him?”

“’Cause we found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin,” Dean retorted.

Sam’s face was set in hard lines. He was scaring you, if you were honest. “But it was the patients who rioted.”

“Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal,“ Dean went on. “Come on, we gotta find his bones and torch ’em.”

You continued to eye Sam, not quite sure what was going on with him.

“How? The police never found his body.” Sam’s movements were almost robotic.

“The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself.”

“I don't know, it sounds kinda…”

“Crazy?”

Sam nodded.

Dean motioned for his brother to follow him into the next room. You continued to watch Sam carefully, and the sly look he gave his brother did not escape you.

“I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room,” Sam said.

“Well, that's why they call it hidden.”

You shushed the boys. “You hear that?” You crouched to the ground and Dean followed suit.

Sam was still standing behind him. “What?”

“There's a door here.” Dean felt along the wall until he found it.

“Dean.” You heard a gun click behind you. “Step back from the door.”

You and Dean rose from the ground with your hands raised. Blood was trickling down Sam’s face from his nose.

“Sam, put the gun down,” Dean pleaded quietly.

Sam’s voice was hard. “Is that an order?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, it's more of a friendly request.”

Sam pointed the gun straight at Dean’s chest. “ ’Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders.”

“Sam, stop it,” you told him. “I fucking knew it. Ellicott did something to you.”

“(Y/N), for once in your life, just shut your mouth.”

You knew it wasn’t Sam talking and you tried not to take offense.

“What are you gonna do, Sam? Gun's filled with rock salt. It's not gonna kill me,” Dean bit back.

Sam shot Dean square in the chest. The shot threw him backward through the hidden door. “No. But it will hurt like hell.”

“Dean!” you cried, rushing to his aid.

“Get back, (Y/N),” Sam demanded.

“What the fuck, Sam? Cut it out!”

Dean grabbed your arm, doing his best to silence you and steady himself. “We gotta burn Ellicott's bones and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal.”

“I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? ’Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?” the younger brother spat.

“This isn't you talking, Sam,” Dean groaned, head lolling back against the floor.

Sam tapped the gun to the side of his head. “That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you.”

“So what are you gonna do, huh? Are you gonna kill me? Then (Y/N)?”

Sam laughed bitterly. “You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago.”

“Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you." He held his treasured handgun out to Sam.

“Dean, no,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist. The look he gave you told you to trust him. “Come on. Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt.”

Sam hesitated.

“Take it!” Dean commanded.

He did, and pointed the gun straight at Dean’s face.

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!”

Sam pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but no bullet left it. He tried once again. You took the opportunity to kick Sam square in the stomach, knocking him to the floor and winding him.

Dean scrambled to his feet. “Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol!”

Sam stared up at him with venomous disdain, only to receive a wicked right cross from Dean. Sam was knocked out cold.

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean patted his brother’s head on the ground.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

He nodded. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The two of you found the rotting corpse of Dr. Ellicott behind a cupboard door. The smell nearly knocked you out. “Holy hell.”

Dean covered his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh, that's just gross.”

You pinched your nose with one hand and salted the body while Dean covered it in kerosene. “Soak it up,” he told the doctor. The two of you went to stand, only to be knocked to the floor by a gurney flying across the room.

You looked up to see the ghost of Dr. Ellicott right above you. “Don’t be afraid.” The doctor grabbed your face. “I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you all better.” His fingertips felt like they were burning holes into your skull.

You wailed in agony. And suddenly, he backed away from you. You dropped to the ground and looked up to see the doctor turning black and falling to the floor in front of you, crumbling on impact.

You turned your head toward Dean. “Thanks.” You knew he had lit the corpse on fire while the doctor was distracted with you.

“Don’t mention it.”

You turned to the sound of Sam moaning from a distance away.

“You're not going to try and kill us, are ya?” Dean asked him.

Sam flexed his jaw painfully. “No.”

“Good. Because that would be awkward.”

After the three of you bid goodbye to Gavin and Kat, you were on the road again.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam said.

His brother turned to face him.

“I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there.”

Dean’s tone was guarded. “You remember all that?”

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it,” Sam told him.

The older brother didn’t sound convinced. “You didn't, huh?”

“Dean—” you started.

Sam cut you off. “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?”

Dean turned his attention back to the road. “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.”

“Ditto,” you mumbled, stretching out over the backseat.

Soon enough, you and the boys arrived back in your respective motel rooms. You’d decided to get some shut-eye before heading out to your next adventure. You awoke hours later to the sound of your cell phone ringing. You picked it up, not recognizing the number at all.

You shot straight up at the sound of the man’s introduction. “John?!”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @thepocketverse @simpingdeadcharacters @elqsiian @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey

Quite a few tags were broken; sorry lovebugs! :(

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

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hisaame · 8 months

Text

— ⧽➻Wanderer with a crush!˒˒ˋˋ

『its how i think wanderer would be id he had a crush,,, and this takes place obviously after he stopped being 'scaramouche'.』

╰ˊˊtw: soft wanderer (help), cursing, wanderers past trauma (kabukimono/kunikuzushi) its just a lil bit tho, spoilers.╎ + its a wanderer x reader type shit, so he falls for you!

He thought it couldn't be possible, but it happened. he was already upset at himself for allowing himself to spend time with you. And with those soft and sweet smiles of yours, he'd almost always looks away—and what you wouldn't notice was his his blushy pink cheeks that would always fade back into his normal pale, color when he'd turn to look back at you, tilting his hat a bit to hide his own smirk.

The guy had even known you when he was once Scaramouche, you'd catch his eye from time to time, but he never really thought about talking to you. Back then he just thought of you as a 'pretty girl', then he'd scoff and turn away. He even wished he'd gotten the chance to have one chat with you before he deletes himself out of existence as Scaramouche. You always seemed to look at him with that cheerful smile. But he's glad he got a chance to befriend you, and now, as a normal person.

He didn't even think puppets could fall in love, nor did he think his porcelain face could turn red! But it began happening more often often the more he hung out with you. Being a wanderer made him not be busy—unlike his past self as Scaramouche who always had things to do. He despised that old part of him, but now he's a changed man alright. He's still vedy cautious and trying his best not to show any vulnerability, he wouldn't wanna remind himself of the rime he was a pathetic, dumb doll who allowed himself to be betrayed.

But he wouldn't let you betray him, no. You're stuck with him.

He didnt exactly understand the concept of „love“. He's seen couples in Sumeru and didn't quite get why they were so affectionate, prepping kisses on eachothers lips and always holding hands. He'd sometimes even cringe at it. Even imagining himself like that with you felt weird... Wait, whys he thinking of it in the first place!?

After finally accepting the fact he's in love after days of trying to convince himself he isn't, he began to think—would you feel the same? That thought made him anxious, if you saw him as only a friend. If he really wanta you, he'd try.

And he did.

He'd go to the library more often, looking for romance books and even looking arouns him to make sure noones looking. He doesnt wanna be caught reading something so embarrassing... He read a few stories, even some tips and tricks on how to flirt, which he found pathetic. Who would wanna say "did it hurt when you fell from heaven" to someone they like? Pathetic! But as he read some romance stories, short and simple, he just couldn't help but imagine how it would be with you... How soft your lips would feel against his, and they way your twos fingers would intertwine.

And then he tried some things out.

He has tried pinning you against a wall, fortunately getting a reaction od you having a small blush, but then brushing it right off and smiling like he didn't do anything. Then he even grabbed your chin between his indec finger and thumb to make u look up at him—and you didn't even have a reaction! Wasn't that something common people did to get people to be flustered!?

He was beyond frustrated, even ended up asking Nahida for some help, to which she happily recommended for him to write you a letter, if he was too scared to say what he wanted it in person. 𝖧𝖾 called it pathetic and stupis, and a waste of time at first, but then he immediately began writing one after.

It took him so many tries, so many crumbled up papers on the ground, to the point Nahida also helped him come up with words to write. At last, finally, he decided to be sneaky and put it in your mailbox, knowing you will be opening it soon. He was a flustered mess as soon as he was rushing away once he put the letter in.

He'll definitely be even more flustered if you tease him about the letter the next day... ♡

#wanderer genshin #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche

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joeys-babe · 3 months

Text

Joey B Imagines: I Can’t Help Myself*

————————————————————————-

Summary: While Joe’s away doing foundation stuff, there's an overwhelming amount of photos of him popping up on Twitter and Instagram. All of them had you patiently waiting for your fiance's arrival home.

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagines Universe: Just the Two of Us

A/N: Apron and shirtless Joe have me feral, had to speed-write this.

————————————————————————-

March 3rd, 2024

It all started with an innocent text from my bestie.

Attachment: 1 Image… Tumblr is going crazy over this right now!

At that moment, I shook my head with a laugh at my best friend's text. She was on Tumblr to keep up with her celebrity crushes, but one day, she jokingly looked my fiance's name up. She would never give me details about what was on the ‘tag’, but she'd now and then tell me what was up with Joe Burrow Tumblr.

Joe had left the house earlier today for a foundation event at a soup kitchen here in Cincy. Robin and Jimmy, Joe’s parents, had come from Athens and were going with him.

By the looks of the picture my best friend sent, Joe wasn't having as bad of a time as he anticipated he would. This morning was full of endless grumbles before I eventually shoved Joe out of the door, but he was smiling in the picture as he poured some soup into a bowl.

He seriously looked adorable. The Guinness hat gives him an oddly innocent look, while the apron he's wearing adds to the cuteness factor.

I'm so buying that man an apron to wear when we're cooking. I thought to myself, giggling out loud.

After sending my bestie a quick response back, I pulled up Joe’s contact.

Nice apron, cutie. 😉

Naturally, It was a while later when Joe answered, but his response set butterflies off in my stomach.

Depending on the intentions behind the wink emoji, I could ask to bring one home if it works ya up.

Taking a few moments to calm down, I shot a nonchalant response back to Joe.

The hat too?

The hat too. I draw the line at the plastic gloves, though. I gotta feel you with no barriers, baby.

How this man can control every pulse point in my body with just his words will never fail to amaze me.

Shit, my mom was reading that beside me. 😬

JOSEPH LEE BURROW.

My stomach dropped at the thought of Robin reading her son practically dirty-talking to me. That's next-level embarrassment.

I'm joking, babe. See you later, with an apron and hat.

Omg, Joe! If I was with you right now, you'd get smacked in the back of the head. I love you, though. See ya later!

Love you too. 😘

This morning, Joe woke up ready to go. I'm not talking about being ready to go to the foundation event, I'm talking about sex.

Joe woke up most mornings wanting a quick romp to start the day, so it had slowly become a part of our daily routine.

It was a different story today, though.

—

Still naked from the previous night’s lovemaking session, Joe had pulled me into him as our lips met. I'd just gotten close enough to grind on his erection when Joe’s phone rang on the nightstand.

“You should probably get that.” - you said between kisses

Joe groaned out of annoyance when he pulled away and grabbed his phone, rolling his eyes when he saw the caller ID.

“Who is it?” - you stroked his chest

“My mom.” - Joe

“Why'd you roll your eyes then?” - you

He sighed and pulled me into his chest, moving his hips away, knowing any friction would make him lose control.

“She treats me like a little kid every time we have one of these foundation events.” - Joe

“You're her baby, Joe. She’s just looking out for you.” - you

Joe nodded with a sigh and accepted the call.

“Hey Mom, yeah I'm awake.” - Joe

His deep, raspy morning voice made my cheeks heat up, and I hid my blush in his chest.

“My shirt’s been ironed, yes. y/n ironed it and laid it out last night.” - Joe

The silence gave me the ability to hear what Robin was saying, and the words she said only made my heart flutter.

“You better have thanked her. Joe, I don't think you realize how lucky you are to have that woman by your side.” - Robin

“I'm very lucky, Mom. Wouldn't be who I am without her.” - Joe

“Make sure she knows that. I'll see you later, sweetie!” - Robin

“Bye, Mom.” - Joe

I cuddled closer to Joe, listening to him mumble a quick “Yes, I love you too” before hanging up.

“Wouldn't be where you are without me, huh sheisty?” - you laughed

“Shut it.” - Joe rolled his eyes

A few seconds of content silence passed before Joe cleared his throat and sat up.

“Okay, I'm like super horny right now, but I'm gonna push that away because I've been thinking about something.” - Joe

“What's that?” - you

“We still haven't told anybody that I proposed. I told you we could wait till we got back to Cincy, and we've been back for weeks. I'm trying to say that we need to tell our families soon.” - Joe

“Oh ok, that's fine. Whenever you want to, I'm down.” - you

“Actually? Just like that?” - Joe

I giggled and gently reached out to comb back the curls that had fallen over on Joe’s forehead.

“Yeah, just like that. It's been fun keeping it just between us, but I want nothing more than telling our family we’re gonna get married.” - you

“Can I also ask you about something else?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

Joe sighed and took a second to clear his thoughts.

“You okay?” - you

“Yeah… I'm just trying to pay attention, it's kinda hard to, you know…” - Joe

He flicked his head down toward the tented sheet covering his lap.

“Focus, babe.” - you laughed

“Okay, uhm… what if we got married earlier than this coming offseason?” - Joe

“What do you mean?” - you tilted your head to the side

“What if we got married at the courthouse, no one else there? Just you, me, and the judge. It could be as soon as next month or as late as a week before our actual ceremony.” - Joe

I let his idea sink in, thinking about how sweet his idea of getting married soon is.

“I’m listening.” - you smiled

“We won't do our big vows or even exchange rings yet, just the license saying we're married, and hopefully your name change.” - Joe grinned

“y/n Burrow.” - you

Joe grinned from ear to ear, a blush on his cheeks as he heard my first name paired with his last name.

“Always thought that sounded perfect. I remember thinking about it on the first day of college during roll call. I couldn't take my eyes off of you after our professor said your name, and I thought about your last name as Burrow.” - Joe

“You're adorable.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe

A few seconds went by without either of us saying something, but Joe broke it with a sigh.

“Are we going to continue what we were doing before your mom called?” - you

“Sadly, I have to start getting ready. Waiting will make tonight even better, though.” - Joe winked

“How do you know I'll even want it later?” - you

“You will, baby. You always do.” - Joe

—

Now, here I was, staring at a picture of my fiance pouring soup into a bowl.

Something about the moment just screamed husband.

Maybe it was the adorable apron. Or hat. Or plastic gloves.

Whatever it was, I wanted more of it. More of him. All of him.

My thoughts lingered to the most intimate moments with Joe. Catching myself before I got too worked up, I pulled up my phone to scroll through Instagram.

As soon as I did, though, my plan of a distraction was shot to hell.

Justin Hillard made a post of the Arizona trip the boys went on and one of the last slides showcased a sweaty, shirtless Joe.

“Where's Joe when you need him.” - you groaned

—

What felt like hours later, I heard the garage door open signaling Joe was home.

A minute later, his tall frame was striding into the kitchen. I watched him look around for a second before his eyes landed on me.

A grin formed on his lips as he walked up to the couch. Joe dropped to his knees in front of me and leaned in for a kiss.

When I went to pull away, Joe grabbed the back of my neck to keep me in place. After a few minutes of making out, Joe finally pulled away.

“Sorry, I really needed that.” - Joe sheepishly smiled

“It's alright, I did too.” - you smiled

“How was your day? I didn't leave you too bored, right?” - Joe

“My day was good, and no. I spent most of it obsessing over the new pics of you.” - you

“Felt like I never left then, huh?” - Joe

“Dead wrong. Staring at the pictures only made me miss you more.” - you

I watched as Joe teasingly licked his lips, never once breaking eye contact.

“Why's that?” - Joe

“Cut the shit, Joe. You know exactly why.” - you

“Because we didn't have sex this morning? That's why you missed me?” - Joe

“Well, that's not the only reason why. I naturally hate being away from you, but yes sex has something to do with it.” - you

Joe reached out and placed his hand on my inner thigh, nestling his hand against my crotch.

“Wanna go upstairs then?.” - Joe

I nodded, and Joe was quick to stand up and pick me up bridal style.

Giggles flew from both of our lips as Joe hurried up the stairs to our bedroom.

Soon, Joe was laying me on the bed and crawling on top of me.

“I love you.” - you said between kisses

Joe smiled and returned the sentiment, my arms wrapping around his neck as we kissed.

“Listen let's just get straight to it. I've been looking forward to this all day.” - you

“You don't want the tongue & finger combo first?” - Joe

I laughed at his bluntness before nodding my head.

“I need you inside me.” - you

“Fuck, I love hearing you say that.” - Joe

Joe placed his lips back on mine and shifted his weight onto one arm, lifting the other hand to unzip his fly.

I helped him shed his pants off, but Joe took my hand away when I reached for his boxers. He sat back on his knees for a second to pull his shirt over his head, quickly returning to his position above me when he was done.

My arms were around his shoulder as Joe slowly dropped his hips to grind on me. Just seconds later he'd pull away to take my clothes off.

When we were both naked, Joe’s lust-filled eyes scanned over my body before reversing course and locking with mine.

“God, you're beautiful, baby.” - Joe

After Joe lined himself up to my entrance, he slowly pushed inside. Making sure I felt every inch of him.

“You feel so good.” - Joe groaned

“You too…” - you

“So hot and wet for me, baby.” - Joe

Joe didn't move for a minute, just savoring the feeling of my walls wrapped around his hard cock.

“Joey, move, please?” - you

I watched him nod before he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to my cheek. Joe formed a path of kisses from my cheek to my lips.

Once he met my lips, Joe slipped out of me before slamming his cock back inside.

Both of us moaned loudly when his tip hit my cervix, my walls squeezing Joe’s thrusting cock as he set a rough pace.

“You feel insane.” - Joe moaned

“I've been dreaming about this… all day.” - you

A few minutes later, Joe and I were still locked together at mouth and crotch.

“I'm not gonna last much longer.” - Joe moaned

“Me… neither.” - you

Joe’s face contorted as the overwhelming pleasure coursed through his body. His cute nose scrunching as his eyes are clenched shut.

“Oh, fuck!” - Joe grunts

Seconds later, with a shaky hand, Joe reaches down to where we were connected and rubbed my clit with his thumb. His thrusts became uneven but never once unsatisfactory.

“Joey! I'm gonna cum!” - you moaned

It wasn't much longer after that when I fell over the edge, moaning Joe’s name through my climax.

Joe continued his thrusts before rushing to get as deep as he could.

His head fell back, and his mouth fell open. A moan and grunt of my name leaves his pretty pink lips as he cums.

After his orgasm, Joe fell forward and on top of me. Burying his face in my neck as he stayed inside me, fading out the experience.

I reached a hand up and cupped the back of Joe’s head, slowly running my fingers through his unruly curls. The comforting sounds of our mutual heavy breath and the ceiling fan created a soft moment.

“You really liked that apron, huh?” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you giggled

Joe stayed there for a bit, enjoying being cuddled before he eventually pulled out and hopped out of bed.

My eyes lingered on his perfectly plump butt as Joe walked into our bathroom, later returning with a washcloth to clean us both up.

He strode up to me as I stayed lying in the bed. Joe softly caressed my thighs while gently spreading my legs apart.

I hummed in contentment at the feel of the warm washcloth, and Joe only smiled at the sound.

After cleaning himself up too, Joe slipped on a pair of clean boxers.

“Do you want one of my shirts to sleep in? Panties too, maybe?” - Joe

“Just one of your shirts will be fine.” - you smiled

Joe nodded and disappeared into the closet. A few seconds later, he walked back in with one of his pregame shirts that was from a previous season.

“Lean up for me, baby.” - Joe

I did his bidding and Joe slipped the top over my head, making sure my arms went through the sleeves.

“Comfy?” - Joe

He walked around the bed and climbed into his side.

“Very, and it smells like you.” - you grinned

“I hope that's a good thing.” - Joe laughed

“It's a very good thing, you smell delicious.” - you

Joe chuckled as he pulled me into his chest, one of his big hands running over my back as my head was hidden in Joe’s neck.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you more.” - Joe

He lovingly stroked my hair, providing tender words of affirmation and holding me tightly in his arms during their comforting aftercare ritual.

“Oh shit, do you know what I just realized?” - Joe

“What?” - you

“My apron is down in my car. I forgot to show you.” - Joe sighed

“It's okay. You can show me tomorrow.” - you giggled

“Guess what.” - Joe

I narrowed my eyes, trying to see his expression in the dark but failing.

“What?” - you

“I grabbed one for you too.” - Joe smiled

“Oh my god.” - you laughed

“I couldn't help myself!” - Joe

He laughed along with me before we both paused, coincidently yawning in sync, which ended in another laughing fit.

“Goodnight, baby.” - you

“Goodnight, my love.” - Joe

————————————————————————-

Authors note: because Joe was illegally fine that day.

Came from my own head! 💞

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow series #joe burrow smut

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yawneneteyam · 10 months

Text

ALL THINGS CONNECTED | j. flatters chapter two — i know what i want life to be

summary: growing up on the set of avatar: the way of water was a dream. your friends had become your family, all except for one. jamie was the one person you always found yourself drawn to, in ways more complex than the title of 'best friends' [3.5k].

pairing: fem!reader x jamie flatters

notes: based on jamie flatters documentary: all things connected. co-stars/friends to lovers. inspired by @cacapeepee. thank you to the wonderful anons and users who sent in names for y/n's character, I ended up going with tey'feyra! hope you guys like it, last chapter of establishing- moving onto their relationship more now. mentions of eating habits.

masterlist ⎸ chapter one | chapter three

2016.

it wasn't like you were waiting for a call. you had other things that you could do with your time. people are only sixteen once, you had people to see and memories to make. so if you were sat by the phone for a month, waiting for a call, people could call you pathetic.

that’s exactly what you were.. pathetic. because you had been waiting by the phone. wherever you went, your phone was on loud speaker, waiting for a call from your agent or from the casting directors. it seemed like you had finally realised how little your phone goes off when you’re waiting for it to ping you with a notification.

you were beginning to resent people that were calling you, because they weren’t who you wanted to hear from. the anxiety that would erupt in your chest when your phone rang was piercing, but the let down once you saw the caller id was much worse. disappointed doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel.

your friends tried to comfort you as best they could, but no amount of effort from them changed the way you saw it. you didn’t get the part.

it had been three weeks and two days when you decided to face the facts. you hadn’t gotten the part and they casted someone else. she was probably gorgeous and didn’t go off script in her audition. you knew you were stupid to start making up your own lines, they probably thought you were unprofessional and weren’t serious. but you were, and if they gave you another chance you would show them.

but they won’t and that’s the reality you had to face.

you promised yourself that you would accept it now. no more jumping when your phone rang, or texting your agent to see if they had heard anything. you started working harder, sending out self-tapes as quickly as you could- you were determined to throw yourself into other projects to distract yourself. you began to film again, making short projects on your own to remind yourself of the things you enjoy about film- not the heartbreak actors often face.

you called your agent to see if she had anymore roles you could apply for. the desperation to work again was hitting you harder than it should’ve. sometimes your parents wished they never let you act, that you could just be a regular teenager with no pressures. you wouldn’t need to feel an overwhelming urge to impress everyone. but that was the life you chose for yourself.

“i need another gig,” you sat at the kitchen table, head in your hands with your phone on speaker in front of you. you knew that you couldn't just expect your agent to find you more calls that you fit the criteria for, but you could hope.

“i told you, i’m looking” she laughed, it was the third time in the last five days you had called her about getting more work. she had never met a teenager who wanted to drown in work as much as you did, you were dedicated, she could give you that much. “i cant just pull a role out of my ass for you, you know that” she sighed with a smile.

“well it would be nice if you could every once in a while” you tilted your head, a small disappointed smile made itself present on your face.

“shh, i’m reading”

“reading what?” you asked.

she sighed again, “a casting call i’ve been sent, so shh”.

you rolled your eyes and sat quietly, leaving her to read. you heard your mum pull up in the driveway, meaning you had spent another day not doing much and that she would be reminding you of that as soon as she got inside. she would rather have you working than sitting around moping.

“did i end up telling you that the crew from avatar got back to me?”

“no," you sighed, "but that doesn’t sound good”. you didn't get the part. you rested your chin in both of your hands with your elbows on the table. you had already accepted it anyway, but knowing now that it was real, felt all the more disappointing, “who’d they end up casting?”

"y/n?" you thought she didn't hear you.

"yeah?"

"you got the part"

2017.

that phone call changed lots of things for you.

you were now a major character in one of the world's biggest films. with a new role, you had moved your entire life to los angelas for the next two years. your parents were with you, but often had to travel back home for work- leaving you in the hands of your agent, natalie, james cameron, and the other cast members, or their parents. you had been introduced to a whole new type of filming, motion capture. now, you could properly say you will never be able to take yourself seriously again after wearing your suit every day.

los angelas was different to where you were from, it was much busier, but you had shot other projects here- just none like this. almost everyday you were training your lungs to hold your breath underwater. you worked one-on-one with professional free divers to increase your time period underwater, and sometimes in groups with the other cast members.

character names had changed, un'su was now lo'ak, sai'ak now te'feyra. character designs changed, sigourney asked to alter the way that kiri looked. character's plots changed entirely, but.. you couldn't disclose that information.

you and the other cast members were quite young, the next generation of na'vi. zoe and sam adored working with you all, but your favourite scenes to film were with your friends. you all grew quite close, just in your first month on set.

"y/n stop moving," jose, moved your skin back to face the mirror in front of you. he was one of the hair and makeup artists on set, he usually painted the dots on your face for motion capture. he also classified himself as a part-time babysitter.

"filip, stop it" you smacked his foot away from you.

"y/n!" jose yelled.. and this is why.

"he's kicking me!" you argued back, a smile on your face.

"i am not" he did it again, sending his foot over your way. filip chuckled softly, tapping your leg with his foot over and over.. and over.

"i'm literally going to separate you two," jose stood up straight and sighed deeply.

"good! get me away from him," you laughed.

filip leant back in his chair, the one up net to yours. "you're so mean to me and all i do is give you love" he held out his hand, "why do you do this to me?" he asked, a smile on his face.

in the main trailer, there were eight chairs in a row for each younger cast member with a small vanity space for each person. filip and you were often booked in for the same time in makeup everyday. you were just lucky enough to also have the seat next to him, which allowed him to annoy you on the daily. you had never been grateful to be an only child until you met filip, because if this is what having a brother is like- you didn't want it.

"you're still kicking me!" you sat up and yelled. he laughed in your face.

"you're so easy to annoy," filip chuckled.

"okay, that's enough" jose held up his hands, and moved to stand in between you and filip. "i need to put these stupid dots on your face, can you both stop it" jose smiled. you both knew that no matter how frustrating it was to deal with you both, that jose did enjoy you both.

"don't anger the man of the dots" you said, giving filip a pointed look before leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. jose started painting the last few on your face, before he could let you go to set.

"i don't know why i decided to work with children," he whispered.

"do you get paid enough to deal with us?" trinity asked from next to you, where she was sat in jamie's seat.

you were lucky you got to sit with the boys in the trailer, all of them took good care of you on set. duane, filip, yourself and jamie were a little group who were always around each other. trinity often found her way to you, following you around. she was like your little sister, her sweet smile was welcome to hang out with you.

"trinity, there is not enough money in the world, sweetheart" jose shook his head with a smile. trinity giggled, spinning around in jamie's chair.

"y/n?" a voice spoke up, "is y/n in here?" rita popped her head through the trailer's entrance. rita was the head of hair in performance capture, an older woman who you loved working with.

"rita!" trinity cheered.

"hi rita!" filip called out.

"i'm here!" you called out, keeping still for jose.

"we need you in around 5, okay lovely? jim wants to go through the leaving scene with you and jamie" she explained, coming up behind you- lightly grabbing your head and beginning to braid your hair so you could leave the trailer quicker.

"well if she sits still, maybe she can go run her scene" jose looked up at rita with a smirk.

"y/n" rita said in a warning tone, pausing her actions.

"it's not even me! it's him!" you tried as best you could to point to filip with your eyes closed.

rita chuckled, continuing braiding. "mhmm" she mumbled.

you giggled as rita laughed at you. you tried to run through the lines for the scene that you would run with jamie as best you could. thinking of the ways jamie might deliver his line, and the ways that you could carry on from that. but jamie was a dedicated actor, he always had more than one way to deliver a line- he liked to keep you on your toes.

"okay, get out of here," jose stood up straight and threw the cotton tip in the trashcan. "filip, you're next" he said.

"thank you," you said, letting rita tie off your braids with an elastic band.

"you're welcome," jose gave you a pointed look, "now, get out of my trailer,"

you found zoe and sam on a buggie together and quickly climbed on, knowing that they were going to main set. you sat in between them both on the back.

"what are you shooting today?" zoe asked, fixing one of your braids that had fallen from it's spot pinned in your hair.

"i'm going to run through a scene with jamie and jim, and then we're shooting it at three" you said, holding your head still, making faces at sam as he looked over at you. "i have stunts later too,"

"yeah?" she asked, "one sec, i've almost got it," zoe tried to pin the braid back in securely so it would fit inside your motion-capture suit nicely. "what scene are you doing with jamie?"

"the one where i find out he's leaving" you pushed sam's hand away with a smile as he tried to poke you.

"ya, gonna kiss him?" sam teased, poking you anyway.

"ew, no!"

"sam!" zoe exclaimed, "they're kids"

"i was kissing girls at your age," he said.

"oh my god," zoe pulled you into her embrace, "don't listen to him, he'll corrupt you". you laughed, as you leant into her hold.

once arriving on main set, you said goodbye to zoe and sam when you saw james with jamie and richard, a producer.

"i have to be honest with you," you said looking up at jim, "i forgot my script," you admitted, smiling.

"good thing too, because you should know your lines," james chuckled, sitting down in his seat.

"pfft, do you have no faith?" you held your hands on your hips, "i know my lines".

"you don't have the greatest track record, do you?" jamie leant his elbow on your shoulder, leaning his weight onto you.

"don't even talk to me," you shoved him off playfully.

"nice dots" he held up his thumbs with a over-dramatised smile.

"alright, can we run through the scene?" james chuckled, interrupting you both.

"yes, i'm ready" you nodded. you and jamie stood next to each other, knowing james was going to want to explain the scene to you both first.

"okay, so when we do it on the day, we're gonna have te'feyra coming down off of a tree branch and onto the ground with neteyam chasing after her," he explained, "so we'll get some levels out so you can actually walk down at the same angles okay?".

"yep" you nodded.

"sounds good" jamie said.

"you want us to just do lines? or mark it too?" you asked, taking a step away from jamie, getting ready to run the scene.

"we'll do lines for now, come back in around.." james looked at his watch for the time, "thirty minutes, then mark it"

"kay'"

richard takes a breath and pulls out his copy of the script, "te'feyra is walking away from neteyam and he says.."

"te'feyra wait," jamie's accent had changed entirely since you both met initially for your chemistry read. you and the rest of the kids had been working closely with a dialect coach to really nail the na'vi accent. jamie, sigourney, britain, yourself and trinity had worked closely with zoe too, the omatikaya having a different dialect to the metkayina.

jamie had grown a little since you first met, his voice was deeper. he had started to become more of a man. he shaved his head since you first met, it was only starting to grow back recently.

"you didn't think to mention that your family is leaving?" you asked, panting slightly to give the illusion of you walking away from him.

"it was not finalised until this morning," he argued.

"i find that difficult to believe, neteyam"

"te'feyra, please. te'feyra slow down!" jamie raised his voice, grabbing your hand, "i am sorry, but it is what is best for the clan".

"for once can you stop thinking about everyone else?" you pulled your hand away from his. jamie was a very physical actor, even if you were just running lines, he would find anyway to hold your hand or lightly pull you closer to him. he calls it acting, but james and richard could see right through it. "what about.. what about us?" you asked.

"what do you mean?"

"you are not a moron, neteyam" you whispered.

"no," he sighed, looking at the ground, "i'm not sure. my father wants us to leave as soon as possible, he has already chosen who will take over as olo'eyktan"

you scoffed, "great".

"you will continue tsahik training, you will lead this clan" jamie continued to speak.

"i was supposed to lead it with you," you raised your voice at him. "i don't want to lead, if it isn't with you. that's what our parents agreed on, yes? that we would lead together. i will not lead this clan without you here, netayam"

te'feyra and neteyam were betrothed to each other from a young age. it was set in stone that they would grow up to be oloekytan and tsahik together. not that their parents agreement mattered, they were destined to be together by eywa's will. neteyam was all te'feyra had ever known, and now he was being taken away from her.

"you have to" jamie told you.

"no, i do not! i refuse."

"te' please, i need you to do this for me" you heard jamie becoming more emotional in his voice, you only fed off of that. he had a way of getting through to you like that.

"and i need you to stay here," your voice broke. jamie looked up at you, he saw the tears glazing over your eyes.

"we cannot," he shook his head, "it is dangerous if we do, the sky-people.. they- they are coming for my father, they will not stop"

"we can fight them," you nodded, grasping onto te'feyra's last piece of hope. "we are family here. we are strong" you grabbed onto his arms. see, where james and richard could see jamie's real reason for wanting to be close to you, they found that you had the exact same one.

"we cannot lose anymore people here. we are leaving, te'"

you paused, looking up at him.

"then i will come with you,"

"what?" he exclaimed, "no, you have to stay here"

"i am not staying here without you, neteyam. our parents chose us for each other, we stick together" you squeezed jamie's arms lightly.

"things are different now, it will not be safe if you come with us" jamie shook his head.

"neteyam," you whispered, "i do not want to be here without you,"

jamie hesitated before whispering back, "i do not want to leave you".

"then don't"

"good," james nodded, standing back up, "good, that was good"

"notes?" you asked. jamie nodded in agreement. james admired the way the two of you always seeked more feedback from him. the two of you were becoming great actors.

"pretty happy, but i have a few things i want to write down and i'll get them to you before we mark the scene, yeah? he explained.

"thanks jim," jamie nodded.

"thank you"

james and richard walked away from you and jamie, leaving you both alone. jamie used one arm to bring you in for a hug, the other fixing the hood of his jumper. "how are you?" he asked. you squeezed him lightly as he held you.

"good. tired, but i'm good" you stayed in his embrace for a second longer, before letting go and looking up at him. "you seem grumpy today," you noted.

a smile appeared on his face, "oh wow, thanks so much" he nodded.

"oh, you're so welcome" you smiled back, he nudged you slightly as you both began to walk out back onto the tarmac outside into the sun.

"i'm so hungry" you said involuntarily, as you felt your stomach constrict.

"did you eat breakfast?" he looked at you whilst walking. you noticed the way his mouth always sat open slightly after speaking, his two front teeth peeking through the gap between his lips.

"no," you admitted hesitantly.

"and why not?" he stopped walking.

you rolled your eyes with a grumble, "i had to go get my dots done" you whined, arguing with him.

jamie sighed, heading towards where the buggies were parked. "let's go get you breakfast" he said, "we've got half an hour anyway".

you and jamie hopped in the back of one of the buggies, a production assistant already waiting to take people from main set back to the tents and trailers.

"when are you shooting?" you asked, fiddling with the pin in your braids.

"i don't start till eleven, i'm with britain" jamie grabbed the pin that you were playing with, noticing that you were struggling to get it back into its spot. you mumble a quick 'thanks' before he puts it back in.

"i haven't seen him yet" you tell jamie, as he checks if your hair is secure.

"he's probably in his trailer," jamie said before clearing his throat, pulling his hood off of his head.

"did you eat breakfast?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

"yes, before i came to set," he smiled, "because normal people eat three meals a day-" he gave you a pointed look- "you know, to nourish their bodies?"

you rolled your eyes at him. jamie was always on everyone about taking care of themselves, but in the month you had been on set, you seemed to notice that he tended to look after everyone else, rather than himself sometimes.

"what scene are you filming?" you changed the subject.

jamie coughed into his hand before answering, "uh, we're doing the fight scene, when he goes to see payakan"

"mhm, fun. i might come watch"

"oh, im honoured" he held his hand to his heart.

"i need to find my script though," you noted.

he scrunched his eyebrows together, his teeth peeking through again in his fit of confusion, "i thought you said it was in your trailer?".

"i lied," you sighed, "i've lost it".

"jesus christ" he let a breath out, "you amaze me,".

"if the toast at craft is burnt, i don't want it" you jamie laughed as you changed the subject again.

"oh my god. yes princess, we'll get you some toast that isn't burnt" he nodded, hopping off the buggie now that we were back at the tents, "miss first world problems".

"i just want nice toast," you defended yourself.

"we're going to play basketball tonight at the park across from duane's parent's hotel if you wanna come?" jamie asked, holding open the curtain of the craft tent.

"yeah," you smile, "i'd love to come"

taglist. @littlexscarletxwitch, @thexplosivegirl, @lagoonabluebabe, @rexorangecouny, @ilovejakesullysdick @rhiannonhippiegirl @leelumenaura @playboykenz @couragemydearheart @whos6claire @m-1234 @coconut-dreamz @graysonshaven @stvpidscvpid @ok-boke @cvsmic-love @sully-stick-together @caniuseurname @fandom-geek17

#𓆝 𓆟 all things connected 𓆝 𓆟 #jamie flatters imagine #jamie flatters series #jamie flatters x reader #jamie flatters #avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #neteyam x reader

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littlequackerman · 10 months

Text

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader- Replaced (hurt/comfort??)

You quickly found your abilities became obsolete when Lumine arrived in Mondstadt. Feeling hopeless, you run away, only to be caught by a certain red haired wine tycoon.

(A/n: Ohhhhh my god i actually finished this thing. i started it while i was having a breakdown and finished it yesterday. im actually rlly proud of it lol)

I tried to keep this one as gn as possible and i think i did good. reader has a vision and is in the Knights, id say theyre around as high in the ranks as amber if that makes sense lol.

---------------------------------------------------------

You had worked hard for years to rise to your position in the Knights of Favonius. Although you weren't as high up in the ranks as people like Kaeya or Jean, you pulled your weight and always got the job done. You wielded your weapon with confidence and always did your best to help protect the people of Mondstadt. This had taken you some time, but your efforts had clearly paid off. You were a highly respected and valued member of the Knights of Favonius.

So how come Lumine had barely been in Mondstadt for two weeks and had already risen to your level in the ranks?

No, she wasn't just at your level of hard earned respect- she had surpassed it. Everyone was talking about her. She just showed up in Mondstadt and became a knight (even though it was honorary), a process that everyone else had to work at for years before successfully completing and earning their titles.

You watched as your fellow knights and citizens of the City of Freedom grew to quickly adore her and completely forget about all of the effort you had put in.

You weren't an idiot. You had never been on her level. You weren't all powerful, and you weren't a perfect fighter. You certainly had no reason to be famous. But Lumine was the only person anyone in the Knights was talking about, praising her for deeds like defeating abyss mages and wiping out hilichurl camps, all things you had done many times in the past and hadn't received as much praise as her for accomplishing.

Then, she truly began to replace you. Jean gave tasks normally assigned to you to her, telling you to go home early for the day or go help out with busywork. Usually on the rare occasion you had nothing to do for the day, you would accompany Kaeya on missions, but of course he was busy with her as well.

And soon, so was Diluc.

You and Diluc had been friends for several years at that point. Although he was normally serious and straightforward, this part of him would crack a little around you. In the last year or two, however, you had found yourself falling for the man.

How could you not? He was dedicated to protecting Mondstadt. He was disciplined and successful, despite all of the hardship he had endured in his late teens with his father and brother. He was caring. And not to mention absolutely gorgeous. But you had always thought he was a bit out of your league, and that he deserved someone on his level.

Like Lumine.

You saw how close they had gotten, how his identity as the Darknight Hero was revealed to her so quickly, while it had taken years for him to tell you about that part of him- and he had only told you about it because you had caught him putting on his mask as he left the tavern one night. You thought you had come to accept that there was no way he'd love you back, but seeing them get so close stirred feelings within you you thought you had gotten rid of.

For a while, you did nothing, trying to be happy for the girl working so hard to protect the city. As every day passed of going into work and being promptly told you weren't needed, you began to feel worse and worse, growing more and more hopeless with every mention of her name.

All of your insecurities came to a climax during the final fight against Stormterror. When you realized something was going on, you rushed to the Knights of Favonius's headquarters for a briefing. When you asked Jean how you could help, clutching your weapon, declaring you could and would help fight Dvalin, she said you could just stay in Mondstadt and help make sure nothing happened to the citizens.

This was the final straw. A part of you felt selfish, knowing how important it was that the city was protected by capable fighters, but part of you was hurt. Normally you would have gone along to fight a massive threat, but this time you were simply left to hold down the fort.

And when it was all over, when Stormterror was defeated and the city was safe, Lumine was hailed as a hero. You weren't surprised at that point, she had done everything recently, of course she would defeat one of the Four Winds.

You had enough. The night after the battle, as the city was filled with a mixture of celebration and festivity at the quelled threat, and solemn rebuilding of broken homes and businesses, you took the opportunity to leave unnoticed. You wrote a note saying you were quitting the knights and not coming back into the city for a while and left it on Jean's desk. You packed up some of your belongings into a bag- just some clothes, rations, and first aid supplies- and left the city.

You spent a while wandering the continent, venturing into Liyue, seeing pieces of nature you hadn't expected to see so soon in your life and fighting enemies tougher than ones you had fought before. After a while, you decided to wander closer to Mondstadt for a little bit, never going close to the city itself and avoiding the knights whenever you heard they would be near. You continued to fulfill your oath of protecting people, defeating enemy after enemy that threatened innocents. You fought regisvines, mercenaries and treasure hoarders, and even a hypostasis and emerged victorious from each fight, albeit with some relatively minor injuries. Perhaps some sad part of you still wanted to prove yourself. You grew exponentially during this time, and you didn't even know how long you had been gone- was it one month? Two? It didn't matter. It seemed doubtful that anyone had even noticed you were gone.

You were wandering through the woods a little ways away from Springvale one night when you heard two children crying out for help. Running to the source of the sound, you discovered two children being targeted by two abyss mages and some hilichurls. You saw one of the abyss mages charging a blast of fire to shoot at the kids, and without thinking, you placed yourself in front of the children, taking most of the blast. You charged at the monsters, quickly taking out the hilichurls with a few hits and moving on to the mages. As you told the children to run back into Springvale, a figure appeared behind you. A male voice that sounded fairly familiar called out to you.

"Those are abyss mages! They're much more dangerous than hilichurls! You stay with the kids!"

You didn't even turn to face the figure as you responded.

"I know what they are, I've beat way worse! I'll handle this! I'm more than capable of beating a few abyss mages!" You shouted, grunting as you defeated the first mage. A few minutes later you slayed the other one as well. You turned and rushed over to the kids, checking them for any injuries. When you looked up at the mysterious figure, you were horrified to realize you knew who it was.

It was the Darknight Hero, also known as Diluc Ragnvindr.

"Y/N! Where have you been, everyone's been worried about you! Didn't you realize disappearing like that would have everyone worried sick?!"

You felt a pang of guilt at his words. Maybe people really did miss you… but if they truly cared, they wouldn't have replaced you. They wouldn't have thrown you away, you thought.

"Listen, Dilu- I mean, Darknight Hero. I wasn't needed anymore, so I left. It doesn't matter. And anyways, that's not our priority right now. We should make sure these kids get back into Springvale safely."

He grunted. "Alright. I'll go with you into Springvale, but once we drop off these two we need to have a serious discussion about some things."

You and Diluc walked the kids back into Springvale, telling their parents about what had happened and making sure they got into their homes safely. As you two walked out of the town, it almost felt like the air itself was suffocating you. You considered just running away, but that probably wouldn't help much. He could catch up with you.

What did he think about you now? He probably hated you for running away. He had probably completely replaced you with Lumine by now. They were probably dating.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the woods, you and Diluc made it to the Windrise tree. As you gazed up at the tree, Diluc broke the silence.

"So where have you been all this time?"

"I walked to Liyue. I travelled through there for a while but wanted to stop near home for a little bit. I plan on seeing the rest of Liyue, going through the Chasm, and then going to Sumeru later this month."

"Why exactly did you have to leave so suddenly? You never told me you were planning to visit Liyue. I would've said goodbye to you before you left."

As he said that, he turned his gaze towards the sky. He looked… regretful?

"I wasn't planning on it."

"So you just randomly decided to travel to another nation one night?"

"Not exactly."

He suddenly turned towards you and looked straight into your eyes.

"So why did you leave, y/n? Did someone tell you to leave? Were you threatened? What aren't you telling me?!?"

As he spoke, he started to sound more frenzied. Although seeing his tough facade fade sometimes was nice to watch, this was scary. You started to feel guilty for leaving without telling him.

"Diluc, nobody threatened me. I left because Mondstadt and the Knights don't need me. They found someone better and I got tired of feeling useless every day." You shifted and looked towards the ground. "I've done more while traveling this last month or two than I have in so long. Since Lumine got here I haven't had an opportunity to use my weapon, but I've gotten to fight so many more things and help so many more people than I did back in Mondstadt during the Stormterror crisis. And I doubt anyone truly missed me. If they said they did, they probably just said it out of courtesy. I'm sure they'll all be fine, they have Lumine now." As you mentioned her name, you felt spite run through your veins. "She can clearly do so much more than I ever could."

You lifted your head to look at Diluc. He had a look of shock on his face, and didn't say anything for a second. Then he finally spoke.

"So you're saying you left because you were jealous of the Traveler?"

Your tone changed to something angrier, sharper.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Diluc sighed. "I'm sorry that they all made you feel that way. But rest assured, nobody meant to replace you. I'm sure they didn't realize what they were doing. You could never be replaced, y/n-"

"How could you POSSIBLY say that I could never be replaced when you replaced me too!"

You didn't even realize you were shouting at Diluc.

"What are you talking about, y/n? I could never replace you! You are a wonderful person, why would I ever want someone else in my life?"

"You did replace me, Diluc! Just like everyone else did! You completely stopped visiting me when she got here! Whenever I tried to find you, you were with her! You abandoned me for her!"

At this point, you were starting to cry as you yelled at him. "And I can't even be angry at her because you deserve someone like her! You deserve someone so much better than me! She's perfect- she's beautiful, and so strong, and has accomplished so much, and everyone loves her, and look at me! I'm never going to compare to her! It's no wonder you're in love with her…"

Although you said the last part of your rant under your breath, he still heard what you said.

"Y/n. Please. Look at me."

You looked at him.

"I am afraid I must apologize to you. I am so, so sorry for how I've treated you recently, and I'm so sorry it took all this for me to realize my mistakes. I promise you, I never meant to replace you with Lumine. The truth is, I've been busy recently with her because we've been investigating the Abyss Order. The Abyss Order manipulated Dvalin into attacking the city, and I was busy trying to get to the bottom of the situation without worrying the citizens of Mondstadt. I should've tried to make time for you, and I know sorry probably isn't enough, but I'm afraid it's all I have to give at this moment."

Suddenly, it all made sense. You should've figured he'd be trying to help with the Stormterror threat. And of course she would be able to help with that. You felt some of the jealousy fade away, but some of it still clung on to your heart, a weight waiting to be lifted.

"And another thing."

He looked away from you, glancing at the ground.

"Your notion that I am in love with Lumine is incorrect. Although I now consider her a good friend, the feelings I hold towards her and you are different. You mean much more to me than she ever has. The entire time we were out chasing after the Abyss, you were all I could think about, and when you disappeared I was terrified for you. So please trust me when I say she is not the one I love, but you are."

You were in disbelief. Did Diluc really just say he felt the same way towards you?

"Wait, Diluc. Did you just- are you saying that you have feelings for me?"

Although his head was turned away from you, you could see a blush spread across his face.

"Yes, that…is what I'm trying to say. I've grown to love you in the time we've spent together. I tried to ignore it for the sake of our friendship but as more and more time has passed it has become increasingly difficult to ignore. If this damages our relationship so be it. You deserve to know the truth."

Stunned, your mind went blank of a reply for a moment. You took a deep breath before replying.

"Diluc, I… I love you too. I'm so, so sorry I left without telling you, and I'm so sorry I was jealous of you and Lumine, and I'm so sorry for making you worry about me, and I love you so much, I- I-"

At this point you were crying and couldn't form a proper sentence. You looked down, hiding your head in your hands, too embarrassed to look at Diluc. He wrapped his arms around you and put one hand on the back of your head, pulling you into a warm embrace. Although he was generally standoffish, you had to admit he was a great hugger. You sobbed in his arms for a while, letting out months worth of stress. You kept babbling little "I'm sorrys" and other incoherent apologies, but he kept his arms around you the whole time, comforting you and assuring you that it was okay and he loved you. After a while you stopped crying, and at that point the sun was beginning to rise. You and Diluc stood under the great Windrise Tree and watched the sun slowly rise among the cloudscape.

"If you want to keep traveling I won't stop you, but I think you should stop by the Knight's headquarters and tell Jean and Kaeya that you're okay. They've all been worried about you."

"Yeah, you're right, I probably should. But I wanna stay with you for now…" you said as you leaned into him once again. You suddenly let out a loud yawn, realizing how tired you were from a night of fighting and crying. Diluc also noticed your sleepiness.

"Do you want to go back to the winery with me to get some sleep?"

"Yes. That would be absolutely wonderful. I'm exhausted."

"Then let's go."

You and Diluc walked back to the Dawn Winery in the light of the early morning sun, holding hands and talking about everything that had happened while you were apart. When you got back to the winery, you slept through much of the day in your lover's arms, and spent the rest of it making up for lost time, telling stories of your adventures and eating food Adelinde brought you.

It felt like a burden had been lifted off of you, and you could finally enjoy days of peace with Diluc without standing in the shadow of another person.

Bonus:

The next day, Diluc took you to the Knights of Favonius's headquarters. Everyone was surprised, but pleased at your return. Diluc explained why you had left to your superiors, and they rushed to apologize to you.

It turned out that right after you left for Liyue, so did Lumine as she sought the Geo Archon. And with two of their best workers gone, the Knights were barely coping with rebuilding the city from Stormterror's damages.

You could tell they were truly remorseful for how they had treated you the last few months, with even the normally aloof Kaeya looking grim as the situation was explained to him.

It also turned out that you weren't the only one fed up with their actions after Lumine's arrival. Many other knights felt like they had been cast aside after the Traveler's arrival. You were just the only one to leave.

You weren't sure if you could forgive them just yet, and you knew you wanted to travel some more before officially returning to the knights.

But now you knew how truly important you were to your friends in the Knights, and you had a loving boyfriend to boot. Overall, things were finally starting to look up for you, and you knew that no matter how far you traveled from your homeland, you would have people waiting for you when you got home.

Finding the one you loved had truly led to the ending you deserved.

#hooooly shit i finished it #diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #diluc x y/n #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin x y/n #gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort #slight angst #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc

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topguncortez · 8 months

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A Force of Nature, An Act of God || Whumptober day 13 - J. Seresin

whumptober masterlist

synopsis: you always said it would take an act of God to take Jake Seresin off this earth. . . maybe you should've kept that thought to yourself

word count: 1.2k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: crushed and grief

warnings: character death, grief, pregnancy, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

There are just some things you should never hear over a phone call. Y/N didn’t know that the simple ring from her best friend would end with her heart quite literally breaking into two. The loud scream that pierced through the office floor sent everyone’s eyes to the closed office door. Her boss ran down the hall and barged into her office, just in time to catch her from hitting the floor. The screams and cries that left her mouth were enough to break everyone’s heart that was listening.

She cursed him out. She cursed the other driver out. She even cursed God out. Bradley couldn’t bear to hear the anguish of his wingman’s wife over the phone and hung up, knowing that Natasha was on her way to would be on to go retrieve her and bring her to the hospital.

No one said anything as she walked into the hospital. Everyone and everything was still. No one looked her in the eye either, too heartbroken. She stood tall though, holding her head up, letting everyone see the emptiness behind her eyes. Y/N had to go in and properly ID him. There was something deep down in her heart that hoped they had gotten the wrong person. But Jake Seresin was a hard person to miss.

His usual tan was gone. His body was pale, almost gray in color. His hair which was once shiny and full of life, hung down and was matted with blood. Small scars littered his face and arms. She cried softly as she ran her hand over his hair. The doctor stood in the corner, looking grimly at the girl as she sobbed over his body.

They had just started their life. Married a year ago, and expecting their first child, a boy, whom he had been over the moon excited about. She felt as though bricks were now tied to her feet. It took everything in her to not tear the white sheet off of him once the doctor covered his body back up.

When she walked back out to the waiting room, Bradley engulfed her in his arms, holding her up as her legs were shaking and ready to give out at any moment. It was unclear how she was going to move on.

How does one move on from this? How is one supposed to bury their lover and carry on with their life?

Y/N thought it would be better if a car came out of nowhere and crushed her too.

The next week was spent with people infiltrating her home. She was never alone, everyone kept a close eye on her. She felt like she was under a microscope. She spent three days locked in her room, in constant darkness. It took Bradley having to physically remove her from her bed to get her to eat and shower. She was close to her due date, and they knew it was not the time for her to check out.

Jolene and George handled all the details, not wanting to stress her out. They watched as every day she would come down the stairs, pour herself a mug of tea, and sit at the kitchen table, her back to everyone, staring out the window into nothing. Her heart was broken.

Before Jake’s death, the house was never quiet. Jake hated silence. But now, you could hear a pin drop from the other room. There was no music playing. No laughter echoing. No conversations to be had. The quiet was loud, and everyone knew it. No one dared to make a sound as they moved around.

Y/N had blocked out the whole service, not remembering a single part of it. She remembered seeing the beautiful dark wooden casket he was laid in. He was dressed in his dress blues, his medals shining perfectly. She barely remembered getting up to speak in front of the crowd, but she did. The dagger squad gave her praise for how strong she was in speaking.

She was the last to leave, as she watched the gravediggers lower his casket into the ground, and seal the vault. She stood by and watched as they piled the dirt back on top of the vault. Bradley and Natasha stood by the car, looking anywhere but at the plot their wingman now lay under. They knew they couldn’t leave her there, so they painfully waited for her to say her final goodbye. The drive home was silent, as she looked out the window, mindlessly drawing shapes over her belly and letting tears roll down her cheeks.

It was three weeks to the day, that her water broke in the middle of the night. She hadn’t been sleeping in her once-shared bed, but for some reason, she decided to that night. She had woken up with a scream, that sent Natasha and Bradley stumbling into her bedroom. Neither one really knew what to do, but quickly calmed her down and got her down to the car.

She didn’t think she would have the strength to walk back into the hospital. But much like she did three weeks ago, she walked in with her head held high, pain and emptiness in her eyes. The nurses and doctors moved quickly to her and sat her down in a wheelchair. She demanded that the brothers go back with her, and they let them.

The pain of labor was one of the first things she had felt in so long. She had grown numb to everything around her. But the pain ripping through her body reminded her that she was still alive. Sweat and tears ran down her body as the youngest boy rubbed her back as she was fighting through a contraction.

“I can’t do this,” She cried out.

“You have to.”

“I can’t do this without him!” She yelled.

She sat on the bed, in the room alone with just a doctor and a nurse. The brothers had been kicked out, her request, as she started to push. She did her best, pushing with as much strength as she could, but her body was just too weak.

“I can’t.”

“You have to,” The doctor said, looking up at her, “You have to. You have no choice. Your baby will go into distress and so will you.”

The door barged open, and she closed her eyes, too weak to put up a fight. She watched as he pushed over to her, and climbed behind her on the bed.

“Bradley…” She cried, leaning her head back against him.

“I know,” Bradley soothed her. The nurse handed him a damp rag to wipe her sweat, “I know he would do it if roles were reversed.”

“I need him,” She whimpered out.

“I know,” Bradley clenched his jaw, trying to push back his own tears, “I do too. But you also need to bring this healthy boy into the world. For him.”

She nodded and gripped Bradley’s hands. She took a deep breath and listened as the doctor counted down. On one, she let out a loud scream as she pushed as hard as she could. Bradley whispered encouraging things into her ear as she used whatever strength she had buried within herself to bring the baby into the world.

When the melodic cry broke through the room, she leaned back against Bradley, completely spent. Bradley smiled, tears down his cheek as the doctor laid the newborn against her chest. She looked up at Bradley, tears in her own eyes. The little baby boy was a carbon copy of his father.

“We did it, Jake,” Y/N whispered and kissed her son’s forehead.

taglist: @els-marvelvsp @sarahsmi13s @topgun-imagines @cassiemitchell @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @a-reader-and-a-writer @bradleybeachbabe @kmc1989 @senawashere @beautifulandvoid @ohtobeleah @rogersbarnesxx @oatmealisweird @dempy @devil-angel-winchester @gillybear17

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icantpickabiasugh · 1 year

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Our Secret-yjw

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

Our secret- yang Jungwon

Parring-Yang Jungwon x fem!reader

Summary- Dim lights and locker room vibes leave mutual friends in a bit of a situation

Word count- 1k+

Warnings- SMUT!! Hickeys, making out, awkwardness, like bit of fluff. Lmk if there is anything more!

Reading time-4 minutes (in head)

A/n. Heyyy so this is my first fan fic ever I’m kinda nervous ahhh. Sorry it took awhile it’s currently 1:30 am but I wanted to post something before I went to bed! I was writing the Han fic but hit a bit of a wall so I quickly wrote this I was planning on doing a pt. 2 but only if you guys want. Please please PLEASE send feedback I could really use it! Enjoy my loves-☺️😘

You didn’t like going out much, you felt that it was a waste of time to get wasted with a bunch of people you didn’t know in a hot gross frat house, instead you rather liked the idea of spending your Saturday nights on the couch with your favorite drama and some snacks.

“Come on y/n, it’s the pep rally you HAVE to come!”

“Do I though, do I really”

Your friend Yujin however loved going out and meeting new people.

“Oh come on party pooper it’s your second year here and away from home and you’ve only been to TWO parties, you know how sad that is y/n?”

“FINE fine! But as after I’m going home I’m not leaving to some party”

You’d meet up with all your friends and their friends at the pep rally and go find a good view with some drinks and snacks

You left to go to the bathroom.

Excusing yourself from the group you go to the locker rooms looking for the bathroom.

You’re just outside the boy's football team’s locker room near the bathrooms you see Jungwon exiting giving him a small smile and walking past a couple feet away he calls out your name.

“Hey y/n”

Slowly turning around to look at him a bit confused

“Y-yeah? Jungwon?”

Jungwon was a part of your friends circle but you never really talked you saw a lot of his posts and comments on insta though and you did have the occasional chat online but that was about it what would he want to talk about?

“I was wondering y-you don’t post about Changbin anymore, did d-did you guys break up?”

“Ah y-yeah we did about three months ago”

“Oh well I’m-im sorry”

“Ah no need to be it was mutual”

“Well in that case I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out… sometime?”

“That'd be great Jungwon id love to”

Hearing keys rattling and someone jogging you get startled as Jungwon quickly pulls you into the changing rooms

“Wha-“

“Shhhh, we’re not meant to be here. Quietly run into that shower stall”

He softly whispers into your ear.

Backed against the wall and Jungwon’s body you are stuck breathing in his intoxicating scent you watch as he peeks out of the small stall and out into the looker room

“I think they’re leaving”

A second after saying so he’s push-up against your faces mere inches apart. He puts a finger to his lips brushing yours in the process

Sighing in relief he straightens up his posture a little

“S-sorry I didn’t mean to-mhnp”

Quick to shut him up you pull him in for a kiss by the back of his neck

“Mmhm~mmm y-y/n we should~mmhm mmm s-stop”

Pulling away confused you look at him

“D-do you not like me!?”

"NO no I-I do I really do it’s just, are YOU sure you want to do this? I get it if you're not over your last relationship-“

“What are you on about of course I want this I've wanted this for 3 years”

Wha- t-three years!?”

“Yes okay, now shut up and kiss me”

“Fine by me”

You and Jungwon had been gone from your friends for like fifteen minutes now and since then things had gotten a little more heated.

Your hand where in his hair as he suckles on your skin just under your ear his hand held your waist as he kisses the span of your neck making a trail back to your lips he moans as you pull his hair.

“Fuck I want you so bad”

“We can’t, the game will be over soon and the others will want to leave”

“Fuck the game and fuck the others I want you here and I want you now”

“Hell Jungwon you're so hot”

Releasing a shaky breath he moves to pull up your dress.

Moving your panties to the side he runs a finger through your folds and up your slit you moan at the feeling

“Ohh shit, Jungwon please”

“Please what baby, use your words”

“Please fuck me, ahh please I need it”

“Good girl” he growls in your ear undoing his pants and pulling his hard cock out it hits his stomach with a slap

“Jump baby”

Doing so you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. positioning his cock at your entrance he slides it up and down your folds teasing you a bit

“You sure you want this baby”

“Couldn’t be more certain, now hurry up and put it in”

“Nghhh fuck baby you're so tight”

Giving you time to adjust to his size you slowly start rolling your hips on his.

Now Jungwon wasn’t awfully long as he was thick with a long vein running from the base of his cock to his pretty pink tip

As he stands moving he starts finding a steady pace and angle after shifting a bit he hit a squishy spot inside of you that felt just oh so good seeming happy with the sudden loud moan he’s pulled from you he smirks

“Did I find it, baby”

To fucked dumb to give a response you babble out his name.

He soon picks up the pace hitting that spot fast and hard each time

“J-Jungwon I’m gonna-fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it baby cum all over my big cock”

“Ahh ahh fuck shit I can’t hold it!”

He whispers in your ear one last time holding you tight against him “cum”

He’s quick to follow suit cumming deep In you he fucks you both through your highs

Pulling out he replaces his cock with his two fingers

“Keep it In for me yeah?”

Nodding softly you catch your breath and let him take care of you

“You did so good for me, I’m so proud” he whispers kissing your teary cheeks

☆*:.｡. .｡.:*☆

Walking hand in hand back to your friends you find them coming the opposite way

“Hey there you guys are we’ve been looking for you two for ages” called out Sunoo

“Hey why are you guys holding hands” Jake questions

“Y/n IS THAT A HICKEY on your neck!!?” Yujin yells running at you

“Shit” you mutter under your breath.

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

#enhypen ff #enhypen jungwon #enhypen hard hours #yang jungwon #kpop #enhypen smut #kpop smut #enhypen #jungwon #enhypen x female reader

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

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Unwanted: Chapter 21, Unacceptable - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, allusions to sex, hypocritical Bucky, discussions of alcohol use, hangovers

Word Count: 1.4k

Previously On...: 🎶Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you! You got high on molly, and brought Steve to your room!🎶

A/N: The morning after.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

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You woke up the following morning completely hungover, but in good spirits, nonetheless. You had had an amazing time at your party, and not even Bucky and Jade's surprise appearance could have put a damper on your evening. And, if you had told yourself yesterday that you would wake up with Steve Rogers in bed next to you, you would have laughed in your own face.

Life certainly was surprising.

Sometime in the night, your handkerchief top had gotten all twisted around you, and was no longer doing much to cover your chest, so you discarded it and grabbed Steve's button up shirt from where he had tossed it on the floor, putting it on to cover yourself and laughing when you saw it completely covered the skirt you were wearing. The man was massive. You stood up and stretched, your body aching from all of the previous night's physical activity.

Looking over your shoulder, your gaze fell across the giant super soldier spread out on his stomach in your bed, his blond hair tousled and going in every direction.

"Take a picture; it will last longer," he murmured, not opening his eyes.

You laughed and crawled back onto the bed to sit next to him. "Rise and shine, Stevie," you sang.

"Not so loud," he groaned, putting a pillow over his head.

"Awww, has poor Captain America been felled by the evil Asgardian liquor?" you teased. "If only the Nazis had known your one true weakness. World War II would have ended so differently."

"Never again," Steve moaned, rolling over onto his back.

"See, I feel like you say 'never again,' yet there's always a next time," you joked, poking him in the side through his undershirt. "Come on, up and at'em, Cap. I gotta get ready to leave for Atlantic City."

Steve's eyes flew open at the mention of the mission. "Oh, shit," he said, sitting upright. "I need to make sure your fake IDs and documents are fully ready before you go!" He jumped to his feet, scrambling to put his shoes back on.

"Language, Cap," you teased as you walked him to the door.

You opened it for him, and he stepped out, then turned around to look at you. "Are we good, Pocket?" he asked, worry stretched across his brow. "I know last night was... Well, it wasn't our usual. I just want to make sure we're okay."

You leaned up and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. "We're golden, Stevie," you murmured. "Thank you for last night. You were great. Really." He smiled before pulling you in for a tight, one-armed hug.

"Thanks, Pocket." He kissed the crown of your head. "I'll see you in a bit." You closed the door behind him and let out a content sigh. You would not have anticipated ending last night the way you did, but you had to admit, you weren't upset with the way things had played out. You moved back into your room and grabbed your duffle bag out from underneath your bed. You still had a few hours left before you and Sam were scheduled to leave for New Jersey, but you hadn't yet packed a thing.

After a while, a knock on your door caught your attention. Smiling to yourself, you went to answer.

"Sorry, Stevie, you're not getting this shirt back any--" your voice faltered when you saw that it wasn't Steve standing at your door, but Bucky.

And he looked like shit. His eyes were rimmed in red, and he was still wearing the same clothes from last night. His face looked haggard, as if he hadn't slept. But the most noticeable thing of all was the hard set of his jaw.

"Are you trying to kill me, Pocket?" he asked with a voice that was rough with agony. "Did you really want to get back at me that badly?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Barnes," you said, your own voice clipped. You put your arms across your chest, feeling the need to cover yourself. The motion only served to draw Bucky's attention to what you were wearing.

"Is that his fucking shirt?" he growled, and for a moment, it was a sick mirror of the night the two of you had first slept together, but then you realized immediately-- this wasn't about you. It was about Steve.

"Relax, Barnes," you said, rolling your eyes. As if, for once, he truly gave a shit about you. "I'm not trying to seduce your boy to my dark side of the Force. He's still your best friend."

"Like hell he is, now!" Bucky shouted at you, and the ferocity of his words caused you to step back. Bucky advanced on you, stepping further into your room. “For fucks’ sake, (Y/N)! I asked one thing of you! I begged– if you ever wanted to sleep with someone to hurt me, I’d hate it, but I’d understand, but I told you if it was Steve it would fucking kill me!”

Bucky had never, ever called you by your real name before, and the sound of it from his mouth felt like a slap in the face. You'd told him how much you'd hated it, because it was the name your mother had given you, that you shared with her, and that version of you had died when you were finally able to escape from your old life.

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you said, and you were amazed you’d managed to keep your voice calm. Cold, emotionless. “How many times did I beg you to stay away from Carthage? How many times did you reduce me to a crying mess over her, knowing how much I despised her and what she was doing to us? But you just had to fuck her, anyway, didn’t you?

“And even now, you still rub it in my face and expect me to have any fucking respect for you? How dare you show up to my party with that filthy cunt by your side? Were you trying to embarrass me in front of everyone who actually cares about me? Do you get off on watching my heart break? On causing me pain?”

“I didn’t go to the party with her,” he said. He’d lowered the tone of his voice now, but it was still full of anger. “She showed up, kept following me. Asking me to be with her. I couldn’t get her away from me all night! I wanted to talk to you, to apologize, but I didn’t want to cause a scene, to take attention away from you.”

“Oh, well, my fucking hero, then,” you said, slowly clapping. “Forgive me if I don’t leap into your arms with gratitude. Seem to find myself out of fucks to give where you’re concerned. Can’t imagine why.”

“Because you’re with Steve now?” Bucky asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Who I do or do not sleep with stopped being your business the second you decided to stick your dick in that bitch,” you told him.

“It’s my business because you’re still my girl!” he shouted at you. You were sure Jade was having the time of her life listening in on your conversation right now.

“Really?” you asked him, stone-faced. “Fucking really?! You need to go, Barnes." Your voice was cold, steady, and you were proud of yourself for not shaking the way you were shaking inside. "If you think I'm trying to steal Steve from you, you can go talk to him about it. I don't have anything more to say to you." You moved to the side of your door, holding it open for him, expectantly. He ran his hands through his hair.

"This is just cruel, Pocket," he murmured.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" you asked him.

"Do you care about him?" he asked. “Or were you just trying to get back at me? To hurt my feelings like I hurt yours?”

"I believe you'll find I wasn't thinking about your feelings at all, Barnes. Now go away, before I have FRIDAY call Thor to kick your ass out of here." He looked at you before he left, and his expression was completely broken. If you hadn't been so angry at him, it would have made your heart shatter into a thousand pieces. But that sympathy belonged to a friend, to a lover, you didn't have anymore.

Finally, with a dejected sigh, Bucky walked out, leaving you to shut and lock the door behind him, though you knew that, if he really wanted to come back in, the flimsy lock would do nothing to stop him.

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