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riality-check · 8 months

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The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

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emmyrosee · 9 months

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You left him for two minutes. All of two minutes.

On the rare days off that you and Shoto get to spend together, it’s almost always spent curled together on the couch or in the bed, watching him work out for fun before making him cheat on his diet, anything that lets the day drip by slower than any other day of the week.

You left him to pee. That’s it. Placing the bowl of sour candy down, you slip out from his lap, give him a kiss before moving down the hall like any standard, subconscious person would.

Two. Minutes.

“Shoto, what’re you doing?”

“You like the strawberry flavor the best.”

By the time you come out, he’s got a pile of pink candy, separated by the other colors except for purple, which is in its own little pile. “You don’t like the grape flavor.”

You quirk a brow and walk back over to him, watching as he continues to segregate the candies, “baby, I would’ve been more than happy to just pick around them, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“But you don’t like them,” he repeats, looking up at you with those doe eyes that you love to get lost in. “You look down every time you reach for one. I thought I might help ease the burden slightly.”

Burden. Your first world problem of not liking sour grape skittles should be the farthest thing from a burden to him.

But to shoto, it’s not one, and it’ll never be one; little acts of services like these aren’t new, small details just to make hour by hour tasks and privilegies just that much easier.

It’s something he’s always done. Something he’s always going to do. Because he loves you.

With a smile, you slink back into his lap, your head nuzzling against his stomach while the tv drones on about whatever he put on while you were gone. You kiss the warmth of his tummy to feel the muscles constrict under the affection, and you bury your hand into the bowl of candy right after.

“Don’t be cheeky.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum. A hand rests on your head, thumb gently rubbing over the warmth of your crown as silence fills the room once again.

Popping a skittle into your mouth, your face quickly grimaces, and he hums in acknowledgement.“Eugh,” you grumble, and he looks down at you, silently asking you what happened.

And you want to lie. Truly! It’s better for everyone if you do, just tell him you bit your tongue and let him think nothing more.

But apparently, you don’t.

“Missed a grape one,” you tease.

“….”

“Sho?”

“Spit it into my hand.”

“Sho, no-“

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

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This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader

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rashomonss · 1 year

Text

MC and the brothers

context: cute little headcanons i have about MC and the demon brothers

a/n: also what?? rashomonss isn’t posting angst?? jk jk i promise I’m not up to anything so enjoy some fluff

my love for you transcends time

When you and the brothers are out and about on the street weather you all are going out to dinner, doing some shopping, or even just hanging out the brothers will all walk in a circle around you unconsciously.

The two leading the MC circle are both Lucifer and Mammon (since I believe they have longer strides than the others when they walk).

Behind them are Satan and Asmo who will always walk to the side of you, and then Levi will always walk at an angle behind you and them this works best for him since he can hide behind you and his brothers if he gets annoyed with other people.

Lastly in the back of the MC circle are the twins. Belphie doesn’t have that long of a stride so he’s a slow walker and Beel will always match whatever pace his twin walks unconsciously.

So they are always at the back because if anything they can just tap you to get your attention and you’ll slow down to walk with them. However the MC circle happens all the time when they are all with you.

It scares a few lower level demons at times because here are the seven rulers of hell all walking around and talking, but there you are in the middle, barely able to be seen over them but still laughing and talking with them.

If you’re out to eat for dinner you all have certain seats. The brothers of course have their own seating arrangements when they go out to eat, but when you came into the picture they all changed seats.

So without fail you all will always sit a certain way at restaurants and such. This can differ depending on their moods and the day.

You tend to carry around seven different types of things whenever you buy something. It could be a snack or a drink you picked up from the RAD cafeteria, but without fail there will always be seven different flavors of it in your hands.

Because once you buy something for one brother you think about the others and feel the need to get them something too, otherwise you’ll have to make a trip back with them to get what they wanted. So to save yourself the trouble you usually just get each of them something.

Each of them like to latch onto you whenever they walk you to whichever class you have at RAD. They will each find their own way to do that.

Lucifer prefers holding your hand, or at rare moments linking arms.

Mammon’s go to is intertwining your fingers as you drag him along to your next class.

Levi likes to latch onto you from behind when he attends in person.

Satan prefers when you hold onto his arm then hold his hand.

And Asmo definitely wants you all over him, except he’s always all over you.

Beel’s simple, holding hands is more than enough for him, honestly the fact that you’re alone with him just makes him happy.

Belphie can differ depending on the day. If he’s exceptionally tired then linking arms is your go to since you spend your time dragging him along, however if he’s not that tired then he prefers to lean on you and hold your hand as you walk.

Don’t mind the stares from the lower level demons, the brothers gaze is enough to scare them off.

You all have a set system for ordering at a restaurant. Lucifer goes first of course, thus giving everyone time to remember their order.

Then Mammon follows, after Mammon you’ll order, however if you don’t feel like ordering for yourself then Mammon will always order for you.

Next is Satan then Asmo, followed by Levi and Belphie.

Lastly is Beel since he always has the biggest order.

You usually end up feeling bad for the waiter because after Beel’s order they always seem confused.

You all have designated seats also on the couch during movie nights.

Of course you’re in the middle it’s better this way so the brothers don’t end up fighting over you.

Next to you on one side is usually Mammon or Lucifer, on your other side will be Asmo and Satan.

Levi and the twins prefer the floor since it’s less crowded. Levi will lay his head on one of your legs while Beel will rest his head on the other. Belphie will then lay across the two using them as pillows. They all like to cuddle in this position as well if it’s later into the night.

Each brother leaves something important of his in your room. This gives them a reason to go visit you in case they need it.

Of course Mammon leaves almost a spare of everything in your room since he sometimes treats it like his own.

Levi leaves a few games and manga in your room so he has something to do if he wants to destress in your room.

Beel of course leaves snacks, however when you did explain to him about not wanting crumbs all over your floor he got into the habit of leaving his favorite jacket in your room. Often times when he remembers to go get it he finds you wearing it and smiles soon deciding he can just pick it up later.

Asmo leaves his beauty products and makeup in your private bathroom. When asked why he doesn’t take it back to his room he gave you somelame excuse about not wanting to carry all of it back.

Satan likes to leave his unfinished books along with his favorite book marks just so he can tell you about them when he visits your room.

Belphie leaves his pillow in your room, specifically on your bed. It sometimes freaks you out when you walk into your room and just see a body in your bed. However after further examination you find it’s just Belphie passed out like usual.

Lucifer doesn’t leave anything in your room, he’s to tidy for that. Is what he wants to believe. He often leaves some of his favorite pens or some unfinished documents on your table in hopes of seeing you again. Of course he’s always welcome in your room but, you soon begin to worry though when piles of paperwork find themselves resting on your table.

You carry seven different keychains on your bag. Each of them gave you one in hopes you would show it off, and when you put in on your bag they were ecstatic.

Lucifer got you a cute mini album keychain with your favorite song on it. Like the show off he is the songs title was engraved into it.

Of course you have the matching keychain with Mammon you both got from the human realm, however he wanted to get you one that was just from him. So he got you both heart keychains. Together they form a heart but when taken apart they’re two separate pieces. He hopes you don’t think it’s too cheesy.

A ruri chan keychain would surely suffice for you, however you both already have a ton of matching ones, so Levi decided to take a different approach. He spent awhile on it but he made you your very own keychain of Henry! Upon closer inspection the little goldfish keychain was so well crafted it surprised you. He almost cried when you said you loved it.

Satan knew exactly which keychain to pick out for you. It was a cute black cat with little red horns and a tail. When he presented it to you he huffed a bit when you said it looked like him. Still he was glad you liked it.

Asmo went all out and made a beaded keychain for you. It was pink and had little sliver hearts at the bottom. Did it take him long? Yes. But did you need to know that? No. He’s just glad you thought it was beautiful, but you should know that he’s still prettier than his creation.

Beel’s keychain was simple, but rather cute when he gave it to you. He gave you a little hamburger keychain he saw at one of his favorite restaurants. The second he saw it he thought of you. Since his favorite food is hamburgers he hopes that it’ll remind you of him. But he also hopes that you don’t try to eat it like he almost did.

Belphie will give you a keychain of his favorite constellation in the Devildom. It’s a little smaller than the others but he took the time to find it and picked it out just for you. He hopes you’ll enjoy looking at it just as much as he does. And a part of him can’t help the small smile that creeps onto his face when you recognize the constellation.

Once all keychains are on your bag you do become rather loud due to all the keychains jingling.

The brothers all keep little notes from you. Whether they be notes passed in class or even sticky notes of encouragement you left in their rooms.

Each brothers has their own place they keep notes from you.

Lucifer keeps your notes in his office in a locked drawer. He would rather die than admit it but when he’s exhausted he likes looking at them for a little pick me up.

Mammon leaves them in a tiny box under his bed. Because when he finds himself thinking about you he rereads them and smiles.

Levi usually gets sticky notes from you so they all hang on his wall over his gaming monitors. At times he forgets they’re there so he always get nice little words of encouragement when he looks up.

Satan keeps them all over his room, he sometimes even uses them as bookmarks if he really needs to. It’s messy yes but if you asked him where each one was he could definitely tell you.

Asmo keeps all your cute sticky notes on the border of the mirror on his large vanity. It makes him happy to see your sweet notes to him with little hearts as he gets ready in the morning.

Beel leaves your notes on his nightstand. They pile up but never get dirty. He takes extra care to make sure he doesn’t get crumbs or grease on them when he eats in his room.

Belphie leaves them in the attic. Often times when he’s tired he likes to go there to sleep so he likes to be greeted with the sticky notes you gave him as they hang all over the walls. Sometimes they’re not just notes they’re also little doodles of the stars, you and him, his brothers, or anything. His favorite is your stick figure drawing of you, him, and Beel.

The brothers let you draw on them. It doesn’t matter if you’re an artist or not, all the little doodles on their hands are something they find cute.

The only ones that have been called out for the doodles however have been Lucifer, Beel, and Mammon.

One afternoon while Lucifer was having tea with Diavolo in the council room he decided to take off his gloves. Due to the rare occasion Diavolo took a peek at his hand since something blue caught his eyes. After he pointed it out Lucifer immediately became embarrassed exclaiming that he didn’t draw on himself, you did. Diavolo finds his reaction quite funny and tells you about it later.

Beel was getting ready for fangol practice when one of his teammates brought up all the writing on his arm. He shrugged it off simply saying that you drew it. After practice though he was a bit disappointed his sweat made is disappear.

Lastly Mammon thew a hissy fit at his modeling gig because they wiped off all the ink you had drawn. Specifically the “i love you” you had written on his arm. They explained how it was better for the shoot without it on him which kinda pissed him off. However you found it cute when he told you so you drew on his arm again.

A day will not go by without all seven of them being in your room together for at least an hour.

The first ones to stop in would be Mammon and Levi exclaiming that there was a new series that was becoming popular in the human realm that all of you should watch. With that being said Mammon mentions the fact you all need snacks so he leaves to go get some.

As Levi is setting up the series Mammon comes back with a mountain of food and drinks. However behind that mountain is Beel asking if this was enough for everyone. At your response of “that’s plenty” he then leaves to go get his twin.

As Mammon sorts through the food on you table and Levi continues to get the series ready you set up your bed waiting for the inevitable.

A minute or two later Satan walks in claiming he has to tell you something. But when he sees the other two he stops and decides to take a seat next to you on your bed. Mammon then yells at him for being to close to you.

At the sound of yelling Asmo bursts through the door screaming at the two of them to shut up. But once he registers what’s going on he runs in and sits on your other side. Causing Mammon to yell at him to.

You roll your eyes, laughing as they all argue. However they then start to get loud and Levi ends up getting hit with a pillow in the process. Upset at this now, he threatens to summon Lotan which somehow summons Lucifer instead, causing him to yell at Levi.

You tell Lucifer to then join you all and after some bribery he finally does.

So then Asmo moves next to Satan and Lucifer then sits next to you on your bed.

Mammon then sits next to Lucifer right as the twins walk in. Beel sits on the floor and surrounds himself with food while Belphie uses everyone as his own personal pillow.

Sighing Lucifer covers the youngest with his coat.

Finally finished Levi starts the show and sits next to Asmo.

You laugh quietly to yourself as your demons spend the next few hours in your room.

Honestly what would they do without you?

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #omswd x reader #obey me mc

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djljpanda · 7 months

Note

Hey can you do a Asmodeus x fizzarolli x pregnant reader, where ozzy is being a wholesome father and fizzarolli being a fun and chaotic father

Asmodeus X Fizzarolli X Pregnant Fem!Reader

Both were surprised, shocked, scared, happy, and all more when you said you were with child

Not a minute after your announcement the whole place was baby proof and they would not let you out their sights

Someone was always with you and have fun having a day to yourself because that did not exist but yet this all happened way before you belly started to show

You did have a talk with them that you can take care of yourself but they just want the best for you and the baby

When the belly started to show Fizz would always talk to it even making little inside jokes with the baby

Ozzie would always want to feel the kicks

The nursery was already built as the color choices were just pink and blue with a hint of red and purple

You can remember they say you went into labor just before Ozzie was going over things in your bag making sure you have everything you and the baby need for the hospital but as he did that he heard you and Fizz yelling as he saw that your water broke

You were taking it like a champ cause you're a bad bitch but it's not like you have to scream cause those two were doing enough of that for you

They were by your side throughout the whole thing saying words of encouragement

When the baby was born man were those two crying messes but only when the doctors and nurses left

The baby was big news cause the last time when one of the 7 princes had a baby that was when Charlie was born but here now Asmodeus has his own little baby, this baby is like a mix of all three of you don't how it worked but it's hell

Asmodeus would be such a chill dad, wanna not to go? to school great he's taking naps with you the whole day, Want ice cream? Which flavor, Want a new toy? Pick whatever you want baby

Fizzarolli is like that one dad who picks you up and spins you around every time he gets off of work, he also likes bringing toys to the baby, you can't tell he doesn't use his circus skills to good use for your baby, those two could be playing a game of tag forever

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli like spoiling your baby and yes there have been times you have to put your foot down, you, Fizz, Asmo had all done it once when the other one or two are going a bit too far with the gifts

It's a happy family and you love your babies all three of them

And bonus fact Fizz did try to learn how to cook for you and the baby with yours and Ozzies help of course but you baby doesn't mind when he gives them snacks

#helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #helluva boss imagines #helluva boss x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x fem reader #fem reader #fem!reader #pregnant reader #asmodeus x reader helluva boss #asmodeus x reader x fizzarolli #asmodeus x reader #fizzarolli x reader helluva boss #fizzarolli x reader

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

hi lovely!! since requests are now open, i was wondering if you could write me a little something with james..? if this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please do not hesitate to delete this request!! do whatever makes you feel comfortable!!

but can you do something with james where r forgets to eat or just isn’t really hungry for anything..? this happens to me sometimes, and is currently happening lmao, and the only thing that i can really stomach/that sounds good is anything to do with strawberries (consistent favorite is greek yogurt with honey mixed in, peanut butter granola, and sliced strawberries. so delicious i def recommend!!), and oranges!! weird foods i know but.. anyways!! and he sort of like, gets her to eat something..? my boyfriend will literally spoon feed me whatever he’s eating or whatever i could stomach. the whole "open! say ahh!!" and everything until i got full lol

sorry for blabbing!! tysm if you do this request, and no hard feelings if you don’t!!! i have tons of ideas in my noggin so i can send plenty haha

Thanks for the rec babe!

cw: reader has poor appetite, mention of not eating

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 529 words

You make an awed cooing sound as one blue whale brushes underneath another on your TV screen.

“I never knew whales were so affectionate,” you murmur, charmed.

“Me neither,” James says. “Bite?”

You open your mouth obediently, and he sets his fork on your tongue, letting you suck off the khichdi before taking it back. You hum pensively.

“It’s good, Jamie.”

You’re not lying. Like most of James’ cooking, it’s rich and complex, forcing you to take your time to parse out the different flavors. You don’t have the appetite for your own dinner tonight, but you’ll never turn your boyfriend down when he asks you to try something new he’s made.

“Thanks, lovie.” His voice is warm if not surprised, and soon his fork is tapping at your lips again. “Have some more.”

You peel your eyes from the TV to cut a look his way. James smiles, the picture of angelic innocence, and prods at your lips encouragingly.

“I told you I’m not hungry,” you remind him.

“Mhm. Just have a few more bites.”

“Why?”

“Because I made it.” His eyes go all melty-soft, and you know he’s about to lay it on thick even before he says, “And I put time into it, and I want to share it with you.”

You know exactly what he’s doing. It works on you anyways. You sigh out your nose, and James’ grin widens, his fork happily accepting entry when your mouth falls open again. Neither of you comment on it, but he presses a happy kiss to your cheek once you swallow, and you accept the handful of other bites he gives you without fanfare. When his plate is empty, he stands to go wash it off.

“Did you get enough to eat?” you ask, somewhat guiltily.

James rolls his eyes lightly. “I got plenty, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna have some fruit for dessert.”

You nod, still feeling rather responsible for the fact that he wasn’t entirely satiated by his dinner, but he gives you a fondly chiding look that has you turning back to the TV. When he comes back, it’s with a large bowl of halved strawberries.

He gets your attention, marking an invisible line down the middle of the bowl with his pointer finger. “That’s your half,” he says, flicking his finger toward the portion closest to you before picking a strawberry up and popping it in his mouth. “You’ve got the whole rest of the film to do it, but just finish them, okay angel?”

You look down into the bowl, then up at James. You know he’s only chosen strawberries because you prefer them lately, and you hate to let him down, but…”I don’t know if I can,” you tell him honestly.

He nods like he understands. “Try, please? Do you want me to feed them to you?”

It’s asked so genuinely you can’t even get mad at him for it. Your face heats, and James looks almost sorry. “That’s okay,” you say quietly.

“Alright.” He leans in to smush a kiss against your cheek. You can already smell the strawberries on his breath. “Just say the word, yeah?”

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jayflrt · 9 days

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 35. change my world

"I CAN'T STAY FOR LONG," were the first words out of Jay's mouth as soon as you opened the door for him. "I've gotta finish a project when I get back home. She changed the deadline to—hey, what's wrong?"

You looked crestfallen for a moment, but as soon as Jay pointed it out, you perked right back up again. He took a second to study your expression before stepping into your foyer. Your penthouse was always a little intimidating; growing up, Jay couldn't even imagine stepping foot in a place so lavish.

"Nothing. Just trying to make myself busy for next weekend so I don't have to visit my dad," you replied with an unamused laugh. "You free?"

"I don't think either of us will be; Jennie sent us all a text a few hours ago." He held up his phone to show you the messages. "She wants us to be free the entire weekend."

"Friday and the weekend?" you read off the screen before frowning. "Is that when we get hazed?"

Jay shrugged before he cracked a smile. "Guess you don't have to visit your dad, at least." This was perhaps the perfect opportunity for him to get more information on your family—a golden opportunity considering you brought up your father on your own. Before you could change the topic, he pressed on, "But why don't you wanna see him?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, but it didn't seem like you were unwilling to divulge. Your eyes were gleaming a little, and Jay wanted to believe that you were hoping he'd stay. "How about I tell you over ramen?"

He pulled off his jacket before reaching your dining table. There was only one bowl of ramen set out, so Jay paused before he proceeded to sit down. To his surprise, you sat a chair away, looking up at him expectantly.

"Where's yours?" He didn't mean for there to be an edge of suspicion to his voice, but Jay couldn't understand why you wouldn't make a bowl for yourself.

You propped your elbow on the table to rest your chin in your palm. "I just wanted you to try it. How does it taste?"

"You should eat, too."

"Later—just try it!"

Since you seemed so eager, Jay picked up the noodles with his chopsticks and ate a mouthful, humming with delight when the flavor hit his tongue. He looked over to see you beaming at him with anticipation, and he nearly felt his chest stutter from how flustered he felt as you stared at him.

"Good"—he coughed after swallowing down his food too quickly—"it's really good."

You swelled with pride, and before you could open your mouth to respond, Jay cut you off by holding up another mouthful of noodles to your mouth. His other hand was cupped below where the noodles were dangling from the chopsticks.

Like that, you and Jay started talking about school and the Order while you shared the bowl of ramen. Not about whatever was going on with you and your father. There wasn't much to catch up considering he had seen you several times over the past week, but conversation somehow felt so easy with you.

Jay had never been a people person; his social battery was low and he had no interest in expanding his circle. Ever since he moved to Connecticut, his world seemed to grow a little bigger.

And it seemed as though he had a space carved out for you in his heart, but Jay was sure he would be a fool if he tried to fill that void.

The conversation eventually moved to the couch after you and Jay had finished eating and nearly tackled each other to wash the bowl and chopsticks in the sink. Jay was feeling overly-conscious of your knee touching his and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the space between you two.

It was when you were showing Jay a picture of your dog, Butters, when you brought up your father again.

(Jay had been secretly hopeful that you wouldn't mention him. The more you told him about your life, the more it tore him up inside as he realized he either had to betray you or his client.)

"Butters always gets so happy whenever I'm home," you said with a pout, staring at the picture of your Pomeranian facing the wind. "He must really miss my mom, too." You looked up at Jay again, grinning sheepishly when you saw the confused look on his face. "It was this whole thing from when I was a kid. My parents are separated, but they're not divorced... it's weird. Their relationship was rocky for a long time, but back in freshman year, my mom decided to just leave as soon as I left for Yale. I guess me moving out for college was what she was waiting for."

Jay's heart clenched painfully and he murmured, "I'm sorry. Is that why you didn't wanna see your dad?"

"Pretty much." With a heavy sigh, you leaned your head against Jay's shoulder. He stiffened up for a moment before relaxing—even scooting a little bit closer. "I just keep waiting for them to get together and make up again so that we can go back to being a family. It's, like"—you sniffled—"so annoying."

Another sniffle. You wiped at your eyes furiously, as if you were mad that they even dared to water. Jay kept his gaze down, unsure if you were comfortable with him watching you cry. He wished he wasn't so useless in these situations. You froze up for a moment when Jay brought his hand close to your face, but you closed your eyes and let him wipe a stray tear away.

"You can't tell anyone, okay? No one else knows about this, like, no one," you continued. "Especially not Sunoo."

"Of course I won't," Jay replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "but Sunoo?"

"My mom and his dad used to date, apparently," you said, picking at your nails now. "That's why my dad thinks she wants to leave him."

"Sunoo's dad? But—"

"I really shouldn't get into it any further," you interjected quickly, "because that's Sunoo's business, too."

Sunoo never shared much about his family, so this was all news to Jay. Yet, he was sure he would have found out earlier if your mother was currently with Sunoo's father. Sunoo would've mentioned it, wouldn't he? What was your mother's motive then? Why would she walk out if her intent wasn't to leave her husband for an old flame?

Furthermore, Jay hardly realized that he kept gravitating closer and closer to you, but by the time your head was against his chest and his arm was around your shoulders, he realized he couldn't back away without offending you. He just hoped you weren't able to hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

"Is that why you two fell out?" he asked gently.

"Kind of." You angled your neck so that you could look up at Jay. "What about your family? You're always so mysterious."

"Mysterious? You've been to my apartment before."

"Not that—I just wanna know if you have secrets, too."

Jay swallowed thickly. "Everyone has secrets."

"But I wanna know more about you—your story, where you came from," you pressed, shifting your position so that you were facing him. Jay found it hard to breathe when you were so close. "I feel like you hide so much under the surface."

You have no idea, he thought, rueful.

Jay couldn't think of anything in particular that he could tell you, though. The only secrets he had were ones that he had to keep from you no matter what, especially when it came down to his work as a private investigator.

There was one thing, he supposed, that changed him forever. It wouldn't have done him any good to tell you about it—not when the very thought made his throat close up and his eyes water. He didn't even want to see the look on your face when you found out what he had done, what his client had on him.

"You're, like, insanely smart, too," you breathed out. "How is it you know everything? You even impressed everyone in the Order."

"I wouldn't say everything."

You shot him a pointed look. "Dr. Corvera literally offered you a research internship after lecture."

"Whoa." A faint smirk crept to his lips. "Are you stalking me or what?"

"I just happened to eavesdrop." Jay was far too delighted with the way you shied away from him. "But, seriously, why don't you give yourself enough credit? You're like... Master Oogway."

"The turtle? From Kung Fu Panda?" Jay deadpanned.

"Well, he's a tortoise."

"See? I didn't know that."

You scoffed lightly, voice dropping low as you rattled on, "And you're really good at Calculus, too... and you have a perfect GPA. Are you sure you're not—"

"I'm two years older, remember?" Jay cut you off before he could hear any of your theories, hoping that none of them implied that he was any more of an outsider than he felt. "I know how to code and I know around twenty programming languages, so the math sort of comes with that."

His answer only seemed to inspire more amazement in your eyes, and Jay suddenly felt hot even without his jacket.

"My only useful strength is talking to people," you said with a crooked grin, "which is why I'm pretty good at interviews and making people like me."

"I can tell. You're always the center of everything."

"Rude."

"That's not a bad thing," Jay said, shooting you a sideways glance. "People naturally gravitate toward you. You're just..." The whole package was what Jay wanted to say, but he was afraid that would get deeply misinterpreted, so he settled for saying, "You're just perfect."

Perhaps that wording was at greater risk for being deeply misinterpreted.

Your lips were parted for a moment—whether it was from shock or repulsion, Jay didn't want to know—and your eyes had a new gleam to them that he hadn't seen before. He wondered if his comment made you blush because you kept your head ducked down.

(And he wanted to kiss you. He really wanted to kiss you. This wasn't something Jay wanted to make obvious, but he found his gaze lingering on your lips for far too long before he managed to look away.)

He suddenly felt his mouth go dry while his heart did stupid backflips that you were sure to hear. How was he supposed to get himself out of this one? No, no, that wasn't what he meant—oh, but that was exactly what he meant.

"I'm not perfect at all," you said with a laugh. "Is that how you see me?" You shook your head. "I wish I was good at things like you are. I'm not as ambitious as you are either, which is a total waste. I always feel like someone else should've been born in my place."

That certainly would've made this mission much easier for him, but he felt as though your perception of him was misplaced. Ambition? Jay only wanted to help people, and he deduced over the years that he was terrible at that.

"I'm not that great as you're making me out to be," he said. "I'm really happy you think of me like that, but it's not like I've... changed the world or anything."

Jay remembered when he graduated college with Jake. Back then, Jay still had stars in his eyes and hopes for the future. Despite everyone who told him that his skills were better suited for a high-profile job complete with exploitation and corruption, Jay knew that he wanted to do something meaningful.

But that never happened. He was never going to save anyone.

You hesitated before you said, "You changed mine."

Jay sadly smiled at you, mostly because if you ever found out who he truly was, then you would quickly realize that he had probably changed your life for the worst.

Instead, he admitted in a soft voice, "You changed mine, too."

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ longish chapter to make up for the tiny break i took 🫶

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @zerasari @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct @hooniesuniverse @enhalov @enhypens-baby @isawritesss

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bagopucks · 5 months

Text

J. Drysdale - Orange, Orange, Orange

✄————————————

Jamie Drysdale x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning(s): cuss words, reader wanting to strangle Trevor✨

—————————————

Everybody has their own playoff traditions. For most teams, it’s the beards. And every stadium also has a different approach. For the Anaheim Ducks and Honda Center, it’s ‘Paint It Orange.’

Jamie and Trevor go all out. Their apartment gets decorated completely. Orange throw pillows, orange plates and cups, orange shower curtain. Anything that can be replaced for cheap during the playoffs. It’s atrocious. I love seeing my boyfriend and his clingy bestie, but god I hate seeing that orange. It’s too much.

Do I tell them that? Absolutely not.

The boys love it. They love getting into the playoff spirit, and I’d even venture to say it’s a ritual now. A superstition that they add to every year. This year I was anticipating orange drapes or maybe even an orange carpet.. but I couldn’t have been farther from the right idea.

Trevor and Jamie had been radio silent all day. Both in our group chat and in individual texts. It was unlike them. Especially Jamie, who always texted me in the morning. I was suspicious, but I didn’t think too much into it. We were coming up on the first playoff game. Two days away. It was likely that they were only anxious. Antsy.

I thought maybe a quick box of donuts might be nice. I swung by a local donut shop and picked up two dozen before making the drive to their place. Jamie always enjoyed the jelly filled and chocolate covered ones, but Trevor had so many things he enjoyed that it was hard to remember all the flavors. And knowing these boys and their appetites, it was safer to get two dozen.

When I got to their place, I gently kicked their door with my foot a few times, seeing as my hands were full. I heard a faint, ‘coming’ from Trevor. I eyed the orange wreath on their door while I waited. It was new. That must have been the addition for this year’s playoff run. They hadn’t had one in a while. I would have expected something more drastic to celebrate.

When the door opened, I was met with a shirtless Trevor. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail -no doubt one I left behind at some point- and his shorts were covered in orange. His arms had a bit of the orange substance on them as well. My brow furrowed.

“Hey! You brought us donuts. That’s awesome.” Trevor smiled, “can you bring ‘em inside? Just toss them on the counter.” He stepped aside, letting me in before he shut the door and locked it.

“Trevor, what’s going on?” I asked as I walked through the house, greeted by the ugly oranges of their decorations. I set the boxes of donuts on the counter, opening one to pull out one of the jelly filled treats. I took a bite out of it as I turned to look at Trevor.

“Stuff.” He answered, nodding a little too dramatically for me to believe him.

“Where’s Jamie?”

“Out.” I didn’t like or believe that answer either.

“Doing what?” I pressed on.

“Hey! Who’s that?” I heard Jamie shout, his voice echoing from a room I could only assume was the bathroom. Trevor’s face fell the moment he knew he’d been caught in his own lie.

“It’s your girlfriend! She brought us donuts!” Trevor called, the volume of his voice irritating my ears. I winced.

“You’re such a liar, Trevor.” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.

“Tell her to come here! She can help!” Even yelling, Jamie’s voice sounded soft.

Trevor looked at me with a cautious gaze, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Why don’t you want me here?” I immediately asked, accusation in my tone. Trevor refused to answer right out.

“Oh boy…” he mumbled. Clearly, he knew whatever I was about to see, I was not going to like. “Come on.”

I followed incredibly close behind Trevor, contemplating a few times, simply pushing him out of the way. But once we got to the bathroom, I was glad we’d taken our time getting there. It gave me time to brace myself.

The gasp I drew in was second to none, horrified and surprised in the worst ways.

I stood there in shock for maybe a total of ten seconds. A ticking time bomb.

“So… you like it?” The optimism in Trevor’s voice set me off.

“What the fuck?” I shouted, staring down at my shirtless boyfriend and his lathered orange hair. “Jamie! What the fuck?”

Trevor was standing behind me, and I could tell the boys were looking at each other when my boyfriend’s eyes drifted past me.

“This is why I told you not to invite her.” Trevor mumbled. I spun on my heels.

“Because I don’t want my boyfriend looking like..” I paused, looking back at Jamie. He flashed me a nervous smile. “Like the Lorax?” I wasn’t necessarily angry.. just.. caught off guard. Nobody informed me of this. Nobody told me I was going to have to look at Jamie like this for possibly months.

“So you don’t like it?” Jamie’s smooth voice piped up, causing my tense gaze to move from Trevor back to the once dark haired man. I pursed my lips, trying to calm myself as I noticed the concern in Jamie’s features.

“I’ll be honest with you J.. I don’t. No.” His face fell. I shook my head as I kicked my shoes off and stepped onto the dirty towels on the floor. I glanced at him in the mirror, then back down to his figure sitting on a foldable chair. I immediately reached for a silky lock of wet orange hair, still covered in fresh dye. “Oh my god…” I mumbled, feeling like a mother with her child.

“That bad, huh?” Jamie inquired, eyeing my reflection in the mirror.

“I love you.. just.. not your orange hair.” He was slow to nod. Jamie never liked knowing I didn’t like something. I always tried to tell him that it didn’t matter. Just because I didn’t like something, didn’t mean he needed to change it or throw it away. But he always wanted to make me happy. I could tell though, that this stressed him out. Because he couldn’t easily fix this.

“It’s not that bad.” Jamie tried to reason.

“No it’s pretty bad.” I wanted to card my hands through his hair, but I couldn’t. These idiots. God knows what this would turn out like. “Jame- your hair is so dark.. what if this turns out looking like shit? Like actual shit? Did you guys even bleach it enough?” Jamie, nor Trevor had a good response. So instead, my boyfriend opted to change the topic.

“Trevor‘s gonna do it too.” I looked back at Trevor while Jamie’s eyes were fixed on himself in the mirror.

Trevor shook his head with a snicker. My brow furrowed at his amusement, and the lines connected when I noticed Trevor was not worried about his own perfect hair.

I realized quickly that this was not a playoff ritual. This was Trevor tricking his best friend into something embarrassing. I would have considered it a prank if I didn’t know how humiliated Jamie would be once he found out.

I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to grab Trevor by the hair and throw him off the roof. Instead, I came up with a much less hostile approach.

“Thats really sweet of you Trev. At least if it ends badly Jamie won’t look… orange all alone.” I cooed. Trevor looked confused, but I let him off the hook for a moment.

“I don’t like this look.. I really don’t, but if it’s for playoffs, I understand. How much longer does this have to sit, J?” I asked, watching him reach for his phone on the stained counter.

“Thirty more minutes.” I nodded gestured for him to move and sit on the edge of the bath tub. He did so with ease.

“You want this?” I presented the donut I took a bite of to him, and Jamie quickly reached for it. He mumbled a sheepish, ‘thanks,” in return.

“Trevor,” I immediately turned to him. “I’ll help you with your hair.”

It was Trevor’s turn to be concerned, shaking his head and laughing anxiously.

“No.. no.. J’s got it.” He took a step back to escape the bathroom.

“No, I insist. I’d rather it not get anywhere else on Jamie anyway. His arm hair doesn’t need to be orange too. Come on.” I grabbed his arm, pulling him a bit forcefully back into the bathroom.

“I think it’ll look so good on you, Trev.” I taunted as I pushed him down into the chair. “J, can you go get me a drink from the fridge?” Jamie looked up from his phone and nodded, slipping out of the bathroom.

“Fuck you Trevor,” I hissed quietly, “you know how embarrassed he would have been? He probably would’ve chopped all his hair off.” Trevor’s eyes quickly found the floor. I wondered if he even thought this idea through entirely.

“I wish you wouldn’t be so rough on him sometimes. He’s not you, Trev.” My tone softened -though the annoyance remained- as I glanced down at all of the items on the counter. I reached for the bleach and prepped it before grabbing a spare pair of gloves, slipping them on.

“This one was pretty bad, huh?” Trevor muttered, right before Jamie returned with the water. I flashed him a smile as he set it on top of the toilet.

“Getzlaf‘s gonna love this look on you guys.” I was quick to change the subject, beginning to lather the bleach in Trevor’s hair. He may not have even needed it, but I decided to go with it for safe measure. I peeked over at Jamie, who was watching with curious eyes. I realized he already had another donut in hand. I also realized, that the poor kid’s eyebrows were still as dark as can be.

“He’ll support us.” Trevor reasoned.

“I’m sure he will.” Sarcasm laced my tone.

“I think we’ll look pretty cool.” Jamie’s excitement made me feel bad for knowing what I did about Trevor’s plans. And it made me feel bad for disagreeing in my head.

“The coolest, J.” I responded, trying to sound genuine.

It took me around ten minutes to get Trevor’s hair covered well. At that point, it was a waiting game for Jamie. Another fifteen minutes went by where I sat by my boyfriend on the lip of the bath tub, leaning on him as he scrolled through his phone, occasionally moving an orange lock from his eyes that kept falling astray. His mother didn’t like it when his hair got too long, I could only imagine what she’d say when she saw it was a whole new color.

When Jamie’s hair timer had gone off, I made Trevor go and grab me a cup. I helped Jamie sit on the floor and lean his head back into the bath tub, sighing to myself as I turned the bath tub on and found a comfortable temperature for the water.

When Trevor returned with the cup, I took it from him and filled it, resting my hand over Jamie’s eyes as I poured the first round of water through his hair, pushing my fingers through after. This was gonna take a while.

“I’ve seen you blonde.. but this is something else..” I mumbled. I did find momentary joy in the way Jamie’s eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling of having someone wash his hair. His orange hair.

“If this comes out bad, I’m taking you both to the local salon.” I added, getting to a point where the orange didn’t completely stain the water as it went down the drain. I turned off the tub faucet and asked Trevor to get me a towel, which he came back with faster than the cup.

“It’s not Carla,” Trevor shook his head. I glared at him.

“I don’t really care who it is. You’ll go unless you want to look like an off brand red head.” Jamie’s eyes opened, worriedly looking between me and his best friend.

I grabbed the towel from Trevor and turned back to my boyfriend, wrapping the towel around his hair and squeezing it a few times before I helped him sit up, and draped the towel over his shoulders.

“Move.” Trevor didn’t look very pleased that I was kicking him out of his seat, but he did nonetheless. Jamie slipped back into the foldable chair, and I bent over to search the cabinet beneath the sink for my spare hair dryer. When I spotted it, I was quick to pull it out.

I eyed the cord for a moment. “I don’t wrap my hairdryer cords like this.” I glanced between both boys, curious as to who had used my dryer while I was away.

“Sometimes my hair doesn’t dry fast enough before I go out.” Jamie’s gentle confession made my gaze soften.

I plugged the cord into the outlet and opened the medicine cabinet to grab one of the combs inside.

“Wait that’s mine!” I glared over at Trevor before putting the comb back and grabbing the other. Part of me wanted to snap his in half. Torturing Jamie and he still thought he could sit there and make requests.

I turned the hair dryer on, pointing it down at my lover as I slowly ran his comb through his hair. He looked pleased with all the attention. I didn’t mind it.. I just wished I could have given it to him under other circumstances that didn’t involve orange hair.

As his hair dried, the orange took on a much lighter look. Still hideous, but it looked like it would match the jerseys. Jamie took a few pictures of it.

When I had his hair mostly dry, I turned the dryer off and set it on the counter with the comb. I ran my fingers through his hair a few times, ruffling and fixing the part, before I leaned forward to press a kiss to his head.

“Do you like it now?” Jamie spoke softly, his eyes searched my expression in the mirror.

“It’ll grow on my eventually.” I tapped his shoulder. “You wanna help me finish Trev?”

“Oh! Yeah!”

“Trevor sit on the floor and lean your head over the bath.”

I repeated the process of washing hair with Trevor, this time with the help of Jamie, who really just handed me shampoo when I needed it.

When I had his hair washed and towel dried, I had him and Jamie switch places again, and I began to dry Trevor’s hair- with his own comb. After I was sure every strand was no longer damp, I put my dryer away and set Trevor’s comb aside.

“I think when we’re done, you guys should send some photos to your mothers.” I advised, smiling to myself at the thought of either woman’s reaction.

Jamie’s head shot up from his phone. Had he not considered his mother as a factor before agreeing to this?

“She’s gonna flip…”

He hadn’t.

“Oh my god, Jamie-“ I hid my face in my hands to mask my frustration.

“Can you call her with me?” His request was met with a reluctant no from myself.

“You made your bed, lover. And this one you have to lay in alone.” I chuckled. “Good luck.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras

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fiapartridge · 4 months

Text

wedding bells | quinn hughes

summary: in which y/n and her fiancé, quinn hughes, plan their long-awaited wedding.

request: [...i read invisible string...and it made me think of when they’re actually engaged and planning their wedding...quinn would love cake tasting and picking out the menu...and the bride loves planning the wedding but...[it's] stressful and she wants everything to be perfect. some minor thing goes wrong and she has a bridezilla breakdown moment and quinn is so sweet and calms her down...]

author's note 💌: eeee i love this request!!!! thank u anon for requesting; it's so cute!

cake tasting

“I’ve been waiting for this day since the moment I learned this existed,” Quinn beamed, his eyes fixed on the road as he exited the freeway. His right hand rested gently on your thigh, and you couldn’t help but grin, happy that he finally wanted to be involved in a part of the wedding planning process—even if today was all about cake.

With a playful tilt of your head, a mock tsk of disapproval escaped your lips as Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be eating healthy for your game next week? How about I eat the cake and you watch.”

“And watch you live out my dream?” he scoffed. “Yeah, the game’s not that important.”

“That game is gonna secure your spot in the playoffs, Captain,” you smirked, playfully poking his arm. You loved teasing him about his captaincy, like saying Aye aye, Captain whenever he asked you for a favor, or your personal fave, So when does the team give you your honorary eye patch and silver hooky thingy? To which he always responds with, Not that kind of captain, babe.

As Quinn pulled into the bakery’s parking lot, he cupped your cheeks in his hand, his face growing serious, feeling almost like a team huddle. His voice lowered, and his face drew close to yours as he laid out some sort of plan. “I’m gonna eat a lot of cake today, so much that I wore my stretchy pants-”

“Oh, the Lululemon ones that I bought you?” You got them for him as a Christmas gift along with other items. You were happy that he actually wore them outside the house for once.

“Yes those ones, but we need to stay focused.” You nodded intently, totally focused. “Jack is gonna call you later and he’s gonna ask you if I ate any of this cake today, and I’m gonna need you to lie.”

A burst of laughter escaped you. “You want me to lie to Jacky? About you eating cake? During our cake tasting? Because…”

“Because him and Luke have a bet going on that I’m gonna break my diet for this, and Luke said that if he wins we’re splitting the cash 50/50, so I really need you to lie, baby.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened the passenger door, Quinn doing the same on his side. “I really don’t understand you guys. Like, why not just be normal and bet on who’s winning the next Super Bowl or something?”

Quinn wrapped around the front of the car, intertwining his fingers with yours as you approached the bakery’s entrance. “Did that a few years ago, we each lost $700 to Luke.”

“Jesus, you guys are loaded. The last time my family and I had a bet, we each did $10 and whatever old gift card we had stowed away in our wallets. Apparently mine was from 2015 and the place it was for got shut down for rat poisoning? I don’t know,” you shrugged.

As the hours passed and the 20th cake flavor came around, Quinn felt like his stretchy pants were out of stretch, and you felt like you could take a nap right on top of the table. Cakes were not for the weak, let me tell you that.

“I feel like everything tastes the same now,” Quinn struggled to get the words out. Not because he didn’t know what to say, but because he was trying not to heave and talk at the same time.

“I feel like I can’t feel my legs,” you replied, a visible food baby proudly displayed on your belly.

Dipping your finger into the frosting of the pink champagne cake, guaranteed to be the most fanciest cake you’ve ever had, you swiped it across Quinn’s nose. “Oops,” you grinned. “I’m just so full; I must’ve twitched or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Quinn smeared the orange creamsicle cake across your face, as if you were donning eye black and dodging defenders past the 40-yard line.

“Oh, you’re getting it,” you laughed, swiping a finger across the blueberry with graham cracker crumble, a grandma’s dying wish, planting strokes on his chin and forehead. “Aw, don’t you look cute?” you teased.

He smirked, getting impossibly close. It was good that the wedding planner and cake baker were in another room chatting, or else they would probably be yelling at you two to get your hands off each other at once. “Wanna make a bet?”

“Hm, does it involve me losing thousands of dollars?” He shook his head. “Hundreds?” Another shake. “Any money?” One more. “Then you’re on, pretty boy. What’s your proposition?”

“We leave right now and you can lick all of this off in the car-”

“Amy!” you shouted for your wedding planner as she came stumbling into the room, afraid something was wrong. “We have to go; family emergency,” you pouted, really selling it. “I’ll see you next weekend, okay?”

“Oh, yeah, okay!” she nodded. “Take care of the family!”

“Will do!” you shouted, dragging Quinn behind you as if you were Lightning McQueen in any of the Cars movies. Boy, were you quick. Even Quinn was shook and he skated with some of the fastest hockey players around.

“I win,” Quinn whispered, his lips pressed to the crown of your head as you reached the car, pushing him inside.

“Yeah? Kinda seems like I’m the winner.”

the wedding rehearsal

“Oh, don’t you flower girls look cute?” you smiled, drawing your knees to your chest as you bent down to meet them eye-level. “You ready to walk the runway?”

“Daddy said this was a wedding,” Ella, your brother’s daughter, shyly replied, playing with a couple of petals in the basket.

“Wedding shmedding,” you grinned, earning giggles from the little ones. “Think of it as a runway, and you’re the models.”

“What about,” Grace, Brady and Emma’s daughter piped up, “it’s a runway and I’m the airplane?”

“Oh,” you said, eyes widening a bit before breaking into a giggle.

“That works too! Just don’t be afraid, okay? If it makes you two feel any better, Uncle Jacky has to walk the aisle and he can barely skate on two feet.”

“Hey!” Jack popped out of the line forming behind the three of you, a procession of earthy-toned dresses and black-and-white suits ready to rehearse for the big day. The sight made you want to cry. Everyone you ever cared about was here for you and Quinn, for your big day.

It brought you back to the moment you met Quinn, the moment your life truly began. You were friends with Emma, having met in college at Boston University where you also met Brady. You had just gotten out of a year-long relationship and were stressed over midterms, so Emma suggested that you get a “sex-tox” — a detox involving, well, sex. It sounded perfect at the time. Fuck a stranger, never see them again, release some stress, and live your best life.

But that’s kind of hard to do when that stranger is Quinn Hughes. You fell in love with him the moment Brady introduced you. Maybe it was the way his hand lingered in yours for a just a second longer than what’s considered a “normal” handshake, or maybe it was the way his eyes followed you throughout the bar like he was scared that you would come back to the table with another guy’s arm draped over your shoulder, or maybe it was the way he said your name, like it was made for his lips and his voice.

He was just so perfect and now you were marrying him. It all felt so much like a dream, like you’ll wake up one day and everything will be gone. But when you see Quinn laughing with his groomsmen, his eyes immediately finding yours, his arms flying around your body, hundreds of whistles and hoots coming from everyone around you as you tuned them out, your attention solely placed on the man you’ll be able to call your husband as little as tomorrow, you know that this is real, and he is yours, and this is peace.

the wedding day

This is a disaster. The centerpiece flowers are sky blue instead of columbia, your grandma wants to trade seats with William Nylander because she has this newfound obsession with Mitch Marner which would put William Nylander with your grandpa and the weird uncle that always gets way too drunk at weddings but will never admit that he has an alcohol problem, chalking it up to a “one time thing.” Even though we all know that he’s gonna do it again at the next wedding! And to top the shit-cake that is this day, your wedding planner decided to be selfish and break her water overnight, so now she’s in the hospital trying to push a tiny human out of her uterus while you’re here trying not to physically strangle every single person that comes to you with a question.

You were tired, and nervous, and your makeup looks terrible, and you feel bloated, and you don’t feel pretty enough to walk down that aisle, and you don’t feel pretty enough to be with Quinn, and why would he want to be with a girl that can’t even plan her own damn wedding correctly? And you just feel…defeated.

“Hey, Y/N,” Luke bounced through the door of your bridal suite, his hand hovering over his eyes.

“You don’t have to cover your eyes, Luke, you’re not the groom,” you muttered, fiddling with the ends of your hair.

“Right,” he chuckled nervously. “Um, so there’s a problem.”

You closed your eyes, sighing. You felt like your head might explode. What else are we going to add to this ginormous shit storm of a day? Let me guess, Cole already got shit-faced at the mini bar, or Nico got lost on the way here and that car held Jesper, Holtz, and Dougie, or oh! Did your brother get into conversation with Trevor on how he can perfect his alley-oop if he substituted Milano with him? Seriously, what else can get worse than this?

“We can’t find Quinn.”

You’re gonna throw up. Are you already throwing up? Because there’s this tingly feeling that’s bubbling in your throat, and you don’t know if it’s from the copious amount of champagne you consumed last night or the urge to find Quinn and murder him with your bare hands. I think it’s the latter.

Before Luke could say anything else, you dashed towards the door, his calls fading behind you. You didn’t know if you were running to find Quinn or to escape this hell hole for yourself. Maybe Quinn was onto something. Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, were you that naive to believe that someone like Quinn would actually want to marry someone like you?

With your shoes discarded, you found solace on a rock overlooking a small lake near the venue. Your once pristine white gown was now engulfed in the grass, your disheveled hair was poking out of its metal claw clip, your mascara was noticeably smudged, and the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face no matter how hard you tried to stop it. You were nervous about the wedding, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore since the groom is apparently missing and nothing else is working out. Ha! Now they don’t even have a bride. This is terrific.

With crunching leaves, you heard a small, “Hey,” behind you.

You turned slowly to find Quinn, the man of the hour, finally present. You didn’t say anything, fearing that your words would come out with a choke. You couldn’t stop crying.

Quinn settled down on the rock next to you. “I’m sorry for leaving like that, I just—had to clear my head for a bit. I’m a little nervous.”

“Are you getting cold feet?” you mumbled, scared to hear his answer. You knew he loved you, but you also knew that he would put people’s feelings way above his own. You didn’t want to marry him if he was having doubts.

He shook his head. “No.” His hands found yours amid the puffiness of your dress. “I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you’re the woman I want to marry.”

“So why-”

“There’s like 300 people out there waiting to see us get married, and Jack’s already talking about us having a kid in the next couple months, and—it’s a lot, you know? You?”

You furrowed your brows. “Me, what?”

“Getting cold feet?”

You shook your head. “I’m tired,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I feel like everything’s going wrong today. Amy’s out having a baby, the flowers are the wrong shade of blue, Grandma wants to sit next to Mitch Marner, I thought you left, and-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Quinn cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs, just as he has done time and time before. The gesture never fails to give you a sense of comfort. “Years from now, when we’re old and living in a house in the suburbs, and you’ll probably have an orange tabby cat on your lap, and we’ll be telling stories to our grandchildren about our wedding day, we’re not gonna remember the color of the flowers, or who sat next to Marner, or any of that, okay?”

You nodded.

“We’re gonna remember you and me. We’re gonna remember how much I love you. And we’re probably gonna remember us sitting on rocks, stalling our own wedding day.”

A giggle escaped you because this was all so ridiculous. Quinn was right; you’re not gonna remember everything that went wrong. You and Quinn—that’s all that matters.

You pressed a long, innocent, and probably salty kiss on his lips. He saw you in your wedding dress, a superstitious hockey player breaking a centuries-long superstition, but for once, you didn’t care.

“You ready to get married?” Quinn grinned, holding his hand out to you.

You nodded, taking his hand. “I’m ready.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fluff #vancouver canucks

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togrowoldinv · 4 months

Text

Meet Me At Midnight

College!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You invite Wanda to spend the holidays with you. Will your true feelings for each other be revealed?

Note: I can’t believe it’s almost new years. Enjoy this Wanda fic!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’ve casually known Wanda Maximoff for a few months now. You met her in your literature lecture. The girl seemed mysterious, but not in an off-putting way.

Wanda was assigned to be your project partner for the semester. Like typical college students, you two exchanged numbers that first day but didn’t think about working on the project until late in the semester.

She sent you a text a few weeks ago and the two of you began working on the final project. Upon working with her, you realized just how amazing she is. Her and her brother moved to America for college, that explains her enchanting accent.

By the end of the semester, you completed the project and presented it to your class. Wanda suggested celebrating your successful work with dinner. You agreed, and the two of you went out for dinner and drinks that night.

Somehow, the holidays were brought up, and Wanda told you she was not able to go home to celebrate. You asked her to come with you to your family Christmas. She was so excited to see a true American Christmas, and to not be alone.

It went by quickly. Your family took Wanda in and made her feel at home. The girl loved it so much that she decided to stay for the New Year’s celebrations as well. You take her to the grocery store with you to get last minute needs for the holiday.

“Wanda, do you want red or white wine for tonight?” You ask her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wanda says. She leans over you and places her chin on your shoulder. You like how affectionate she is with you. “Whatever you like best.”

“Come on, Max, you gotta pick some food and drinks out too, or my mom will be mad at me,” you tell her.

“Fineee,” she says cutely. “White. And can we get some of those chips I liked the other day?”

“Doritos?” You clarify.

“Yes, them!” Wanda says.

“We can get every flavor.”

Wanda smiles and you put the white wine in the cart before moving to the chip aisle. You stay true to your word and get every flavor of Doritos, even the taco ones. Wanda also picks out some candy and other snacks.

You buy decorations for New Years so that you can go all out for Wanda. You don’t typically go this big, but you want her first real celebration to be a special one. Streamers, hats, glasses with the year on them, and all of your dishware needs are in your cart by the time you leave the store.

Wanda is buzzing with excitement when you arrive home and begin to decorate. Your family helps make the food while you decorate with the girl. You stand on a chair and hang streamers from the ceiling.

“Wouldn’t this have been easier if I got up there?” Wanda asks. “I am taller.”

“No, I got this,” you say, but just as you do you lose your balance on the chair from standing on your tippy toes.

You begin to fall backwards but Wanda’s hands on your hips stop you. She helps you stand upright again.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah, thank you,” you reply. Her hands remain on your hips, and she pats them softly, a silent gesture for you to get down from the chair.

“Let me finish for you,” Wanda says. She steps up in the chair.

You can’t help but watch as her sweater rises up as she hangs the decorations. Her perfect frame is distracting. You almost don’t hear her when she asks for a hand to help her down. Her soft hand rests in yours even after she is back on the ground.

“This looks amazing,” Wanda says.

“It really does,” you agree.

The two of you get swept away by your mother to help prepare food for the party. Time flies by and soon the guests begin to arrive. It’s mostly family friends, but a few of your friends from college are here too.

Wanda enjoys meeting everyone and hearing stories about you. You try to keep her away from your gossiping mother’s friends but it’s no use. They reel her in and tell her all about your child and teenage years.

“She seems great,” a voice interrupts your gaze on Wanda.

“Natasha, so good to see you!” You tell the woman.

“You too, y/n,” Nat says. She hugs you. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“Oh no,” you reply. “Just a friend from college.”

“Sure,” Nat says. “That’s why she’s staring daggers through me.”

“What?” You turn to see Wanda is staring at you and Natasha. There’s a look on her face that isn’t quite readable, but you can tell she’s unhappy.

You decide to walk to Wanda and steal her away from the gossipers.

“Hey, there’s some more people I’d like for you to meet,” you tell her. She nods and follows you back to where Nat is standing. “This is Natasha.”

“Nice to meet you,” Natasha speaks to Wanda.

“You too,” Wanda replies a bit grumpily.

Another woman walks up behind Nat and wraps her arms around her. Wanda looks at you confusedly.

“And just in time Maria shows up,” you joke.

“I’ve been here,” she replies. “Just got a little distracted by the fondue.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Nat asks.

“Maria, this is Wanda,” you say.

“Great to meet you, Wanda,” Maria says. “You’ve got a good one here.”

“Oh, it’s not-” you begin but Wanda interrupts you.

“Thank you,” she says, placing her hand in yours.

Nat and Maria get pulled away, leaving you and Wanda standing there together. She still has her hand in yours.

“Are you alright?” You ask Wanda.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She drops your hand.

“Okay. Let’s just go get a drink,” you suggest.

For the rest of the night, Wanda seems to have shaken off her weird jealousy of you and Natasha. Or really you and anyone that’s not her. But when it’s five minutes until midnight you can’t find her anywhere.

“Wanda?” You call up the stairs, thinking maybe she went to your room. You get no response but go upstairs anyways.

She is sitting on your bed when you arrive. Four minutes until midnight.

“Hey, what are you doing up here? The ball is about to drop,” you say.

“I just needed a minute,” she says.

“Right, okay. I’m sorry. I know that my family and friends can be a lot.”

“It’s not that,” she says. “Well it is, but it’s not.”

You close the door behind you and sit next to Wanda on your bed.

“You’re missing home?” You ask.

“I always miss home,” Wanda replies. “But being with you here has felt kind of like home.”

“I’m so glad,” you say. You glance at your watch. Three minutes until midnight. “What’s bothering you then?”

“Do you like me?” Wanda blurts out unexpectedly.

“What? Of course I like you, Wanda,” you say.

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Do you like me like me?”

“Oh.”

“Because well, I like you,” Wanda says. “And what’s bothering me is that everyone else seems to really like you too.”

“What like Nat?” You ask. She nods. “That never happened, Wanda. We’re friends.”

“But you’re attracted to her.”

“Well, you have eyes,” you try to joke, but Wanda doesn’t smile. “She is a friend.”

“And so am I,” Wanda says with a frown on her perfect lips.

“Yeah, but if you want to be more than friends then we could try?”

“Really?” Wanda asks.

“Really,” you say. “You’re so beautiful, Wanda. And so smart, cool, funny, and passionate.”

Wanda smiles the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen. You hold her cheek in your hand and brush her hair back with the other. She leans in closer.

“Wait,” you whisper. You hold up your watch. “Count with me. Ten, nine, eight…”

You count all the way down to one and Wanda kisses you as soon as she can. She practically straddles your lap as she deepens the kiss. It’s everything.

“Wanda,” you say softly, pulling away to breathe. “We need to go celebrate with everyone.”

“But I want to kiss you,” Wanda pouts.

You kiss her pouty lips and almost lose your will to stop.

“We can do this all we want later,” you tell her. “Right now it’s time to celebrate the new year with everyone. What do you say?”

“You promise we’ll do this again?” She asks.

“And again. And again. And again,” you reply, leaving a kiss to each of her cheeks and her forehead with your words.

Wanda smiles and lets you take her hand. You two walk downstairs together and spend the rest of the night celebrating New Years. It’s the best beginning to a year either of you have ever had.

You hope for many many more with Wanda by your side.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff comfort #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #college!wanda #natahsa romanoff #maria hill #pietro maximoff

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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 months

Note

Just imagining modern mizu going shopping with you at Sephora or ulta and she picks out all the lip balms she likes best and when you ask her, she says smth like “cause I like the way they taste when I kiss you” IDK DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH THAT

A/n: Stoooooop! I love this!.

You and Mizu were doing some shopping, you decided to head to Sephora to grab a few things though you didn't realize that she would be excited to be here too. Mizu didn't wear a lot of make up like you did.

Humming softly, you bent down to look at the different nail polishes. You nearly jumped feeling hand's on your lower back. Thinking it was some creep you turned around about to yell at whoever it was until you noticed it was Mizu. "God you scared me."

Letting out a snort, the woman pulled you into her chest. Placing a small kiss to the nape of your neck, she tugged you away from the nail polishes. "I have something I want to show you."

Feeling curious and rather eager you happily followed the woman then soon you were standing in front of all the lip balms. "Oohh! I am running low."

Nodding her head, Mizu quickly picked out a few that she liked. "Here...let's get this one's."

A small smile formed on your lips as you looked at the color's and flavors on the label. "Hm, sugar, strawberry and Cherry? Why these one's Mizu?"

Stepping close, she let her gaze drop to your lips. A shudder ran down your spine as the thumb traced your lips. You could feel her breath on the nape of your neck as she drew you in close to her chest.

"It's because I like the way they taste when I kiss you." Her voice husky as her fingers slowly moved down your spine where it then rested on your lower back.

Giving your hips a squeeze she then let her lips brush against yours gently. "Let's get them and get out of here. I want that to be the only thing to wear when we get home."

#drabbles #drabble #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #bes #bes x reader #mizu bes

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simon-sehs · 2 months

Text

due (18+) pt 2

tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, sexual tension, possessive!simon, mind games, public sex, virginity kink, fingering, oral sex, pussy eating, masturbation

You avoided him like the plague.

Tried to, anyway.

You couldn’t handle the thought of being near him without being able to touch him, or outright jump his bones. You relied on a daily mantra to keep yourself sane.

He’s not interested, you’re just desperate.

You laid in bed and glanced at the alarm clock. 2:36 in the morning.

It had been a couple days since Ghost had left the infirmary and started acting… weird. Cryptic.

You scoffed. Isn’t that just the default?

But then again, the things he had said to you… talking about you being… green…

…Touching you…

He knew you were a virgin, somehow.

God, was it really that obvious? But there was no way he could have made it to that conclusion alone. Soap knew, sure, but he wouldn’t have said anything.

…Would he?

Ah, hell…

You groaned and rubbed your tired eyes. It had to have been Soap. And then something else dawned on you.

Why did it matter?

Ghost was your Lieutenant. You trusted him, even if he was an ass sometimes. Personal things like this were bound to come out of the woodwork. It’s not like it would become relevant, anyway…

Even though you wanted it to be.

Maybe that was the problem. This whole ordeal had you feeling like a teen boy who discovered boobs for the first time. Hell, maybe even a lovesick little girl. Shit, would you even go that far? How much of your feelings were actually… authentic, vs the want—no, need—to get laid?

You carefully left the comfort of your bed and exited your room. The hallway was dark and cold on the bare legs not covered by your pajama shorts. A cup of coffee at this hour wasn’t the best idea, but it wasn’t like you were going to get proper sleep anyway.

You slowly and silently entered the empty mess hall… and froze.

Fuck. Me.

Ghost was sitting at one of the tables, his back facing you as he sipped from a mug of what you could only assume was his usual tea. However, he didn’t seem to know you were there.

Get. Out. Get out, get out!

You slowly turned on your heel, your bare foot squeaking against the damn tile.

Shit.

“Sergeant. What are you doing in here?”

You turned back around, but this time, your foot did not squeak against the floor again, as if to pour salt in the wound. You crossed your arms defensively. “Stalking you, obviously.”

He had turned to face you, his eyes instinctively moving to your bare legs for a second before returning to your eyes. “Funny.”

“I try. Can I go?”

“No. Not until you answer me, honestly.”

You sighed. “Came to have some coffee. What about you?”

“Not your concern.”

You grit your teeth. “Whatever.” You turned to leave now that his curiosity was sated.

“Wait…”

You paused and turned back around.

Ghost lifted his balaclava slightly to take a drink of his tea. You took the opportunity to soak in the sight of his jawline, his lips…

He set the cup back down and looked at you. “Come, sit.”

No. Bad idea.

Yet, you walked over and sat down across from him. He carefully pushed his mug towards you. “You can do better than that piss poor shite they call coffee here. Try this.”

“What if I don’t want to share your germs?”

He stared at you.

“Fine…” You picked up the still warm mug and tentatively took a sip. You weren’t sure what the flavor was, it tasted slightly bitter, but still pleasing to the tastebuds. You took another drink.

“Alright, don’t fuckin’ hog it…”

You set the cup down and pushed it back towards him. He took a drink.

Your gaze settled on his eyes, which appeared tired and haggard with the lack of makeup around them. It was weird, seeing more of his bare skin than usual.

“Nightmares?” You guessed.

“None of your concern.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then…”

“I change my mind, you can leave.”

You braced your arms on the cold table. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I making you feel uncomfortable, Lieutenant?” You asked sweetly.

His dark eyes met your gaze, but he remained silent. He leaned back in his chair. “Hm. Do I make you uncomfortable, Sergeant?”

You mulled it over in your head. Did he?

“None of your concern.” You said flatly.

“Ah, so not only are you a prude, but a jokester as well.”

You knew it was intentional. He was trying to piss you off, and you knew it. And yet, it still worked. “Yeah? So what?”

He smirked. “I hit a nerve, love? What’s the expression…? ‘It’s a joke, not a dick, don’t take it so hard’…” He chuckled.

“Let’s quit with the bullshit. Your little favor I owe you… you want my virginity, don’t you?”

“Ah, you’re not too daft after all. Good girl.”

You leaned back in your chair. “What I want to know is, why on Earth do you think I would indulge in your request?”

“Because you like me.”

“Do I?”

“I have plenty of reason to believe so.”

“Then you’re delusional.”

He smiled and shrugged. “Alright, then. Consider the favor forgotten.”

“…Wait, what?”

“You heard me. Consider your little mission fuckup buried and forgotten. Wouldn’t want to… pressure you into anything, of course…”

Your brows furrowed as he talked. This… was good, wasn’t it?

So then why did you feel disappointed?

“…What game are you playing at, Ghost?”

“Me?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one pretending that you don’t want anything to happen between us. I’ve seen the looks, the blushing… you’re not slick, love. But please… keep telling me I’m the delusional one…”

You frowned and glanced away.

“So, let me ask you, Sergeant: what do you want?”

“I… it doesn’t matter what I want…”

He took a drink of his tea. “How noble of you. Answer the question, properly. That’s an order.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You then closed your mouth and sighed.

“…Fine. I’ll take a guess.” He said, putting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “You want me to take your virginity.”

You stayed silent, squirming in your seat.

“I hit the nail on the head?” He smirked. “I wonder… just how much you long for it. To lose that self-control, that pride you have for holding onto it for this long…” He took another drink. “To let someone take care of you… someone who… knows what they’re doing…” He whispered.

Your heartbeat accelerated, your skin beginning to feel hot all over as his words hit close to home. You swallowed. “W-what do you get out of it?”

He seemed surprised by the question, but chuckled with a smile. “What do I get? Well… I finally get to see what makes you tick in the bedroom. I get to bring out a new side of you, one that’s been boiling under the surface for… god, how long? Who knows. And, well, I’d be lying if I said the idea of ruining you for anyone else didn’t turn me on.” He leaned forward in his seat. “To fuck you so good, you won’t even daydream of gracing anyone else’s bed…”

You released a shaky breath.

“Poor girl, are you getting aroused?” He cooed. “C’mere.”

You stayed glued to your seat. “Huh?”

“Did I stutter, love? Come here.”

You waited a couple more moments before you slowly stood from your chair and walked around the table to him. He stood from his seat as well, now towering over you.

“Look at you… tell me what you want...”

“I… want you…”

“Yeah? What else?”

Frustration started to simmer beneath your skin. “I want… want you to fuck me…”

He chuckled and you started blushing. Then he slowly reached out and held your chin, his fingers hot and rough on your skin. “You sure?”

You nodded.

He let go of you and trailed a finger down your neck, the middle of your chest, along your bellybutton, and stopping at your shorts, where he traced along the hemline, caressing the bare skin between your shirt and pants.

Your eyes widened as the finger slipped inside the waistband…

“W-wait, there are cameras in here!” You whispered.

“I’ll delete the footage.” He said without skipping a beat.

“…What? You have access to that?”

He just raised an eyebrow.

“…Oh…”

His fingers continued delving into your shorts, past your underwear. You could hear the sharp intake of his breath as he made contact with your pussy.

“You poor thing…” He cooed. “You’re so wet, so eager to be filled…”

You could feel a blush forming again at his words, his fingers carefully rubbing and prodding at the different parts of you, as if mapping you out to memory. It felt arousing, but… weird.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

His brown eyes bore into yours. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m playing with your cunt.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp, and you clasped a hand over your mouth before glaring at him.

“Don’t give me that, love, or I’ll leave you empty handed.”

Your sigh was muffled by your hand, which you slowly dropped before making your gaze neutral again.

“Good girl…”

Ah, shit. This again. You moaned.

He finally adjusted his hand and started grinding his palm along your clit, the tips of his fingers swirling around your entrance.

Your heart raced in your chest, all of your nerves on high alert.

“You like this, love?”

You nodded. “Y-yeah…” You replied, breathlessly. “Can… can you do more?”

He tilted his head. “You’ll have to be specific. Do you want me to go faster? Do you want me to enter you? Do you—“

“In me. Please.”

He chuckled but complied, slowly slipping a finger inside. A choked sound left your throat. The sensation was odd, but… a bit fulfilling.

With one finger.

Heat washed over you at the thought of having his dick inside you.

“Oh, you really liked that, huh? I can feel you raining on my finger.” He started moving it in and out, making you moan. “You’re so soft… has anything else been inside? You? Toys?”

You blushed again and shook your head. “No, nothing.”

Ghost raised both eyebrows. “Nothing? You’re telling me you haven’t stuffed those pretty fingers inside once?”

“No… I always, uh… never-mind.”

He stopped his movements. “Tell me.”

You sighed. “I would always… uh… rub myself, instead…”

“Interesting…”

Then he entered another finger. You found yourself holding your breath, hands clutching onto his arms.

“Careful, love. Relax…”

You released your breath and breathed deeply. And then you could feel his knuckles at the base of your entrance. Oh. Oh wow.

He titled his hand to be cupping the curve of your cunt once more before moving his fingers again. You could feel yourself clenching around him, each stroke carefully caressing your soft walls, heat swirling around deliciously in your abdomen.

“Lieutenant, ohh…” You breathed out.

He stopped. “When I’m knuckles deep in you, you say my name.” He continued.

“Ghost…”

He curved his fingers, making you buck and moan. “Try again.”

You slowly met his gaze. “…Simon…”

“That’s it, lovie…”

You moaned again, laying your head on his shoulder as he continued to finger you. Your knees began to shake, much to your mortification.

“Having trouble?” He chuckled.

“N-no, I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I’m going to continue until you come on my fingers. And then? I’m going to eat your pussy, after.” He whispered into your ear, making you whimper. “You’re going to taste so sweet…”

“Oh, god…” Your grip tightened on him. “I… I think I’m gonna…”

“You think? Or you know?”

“I… I know. I’m gonna come…”

He started circling his palm against you, heightening your pleasure as his fingers lazily fucked you. Only then did you realize just how… loud… and wet you were down there.

“S-Simon…” You clenched around him, your orgasm making you twitch and your breathing stutter. Your previous orgasms had felt good, but at the hands of another? It was divine.

“‘Atta girl… good girl…” Ghost used his free hand to rub your back. “Now, lay down on the table.”

Your head was still swimming. “Huh?”

“Like I said, I’m gonna eat you out. Get on the table… no better place for it.” His grin was insufferable.

You let go of him and gingerly laid yourself on the table, wincing at the cold contact. Ghost either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, before he unceremoniously pulled both of your shorts and underwear to the side, and stared at your core. You started to feel somewhat self-conscious from his intense gaze.

“Fuck…” He muttered before leaning in and sniffing. Loudly. “Mmm…”

Your eyes widened and your face was on fire. Jesus…

And then it finally happened. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue up and down your folds, albeit a bit too eagerly. But then he slowed down, making his movements deliberate by circling your entrance, then your labia, and then your clitoris.

You moaned, very loudly. And then your closing eyes snapped back open as you felt his big hand closing over your mouth. “As pretty as your noises are, I need you to be quiet, you’re gonna wake the whole base.”

Then he continued licking you. You squirmed and jolted against him.

He sighed. “I’m also gonna need ya to stay still.”

“Thorry…” You mumbled against his hand.

Ghost smirked and then dived back in, but this time, he started sucking on your clit. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the arm that was stretched across your chest, holding onto your covered mouth as you quietly moaned against his palm.

“I was right,” he went back to his licking, “you taste amazing…”

Your neck ached as you held your head up to watch him, his movements precise and calculated. “Mmm…” You whimpered against his hand.

Wait, where was the other?

Your gaze followed the length of his other arm, still bandaged, which was slowly moving up and down. You couldn’t see past the table, but you didn’t need to. He was getting himself off. You moaned against his hand again, desperately wondering how he was doing it. You wanted to see so badly, and his hand on your mouth was preventing you from properly asking.

The fact that he was masturbating during this made you wetter, and your hips started grinding against his face, despite him previously telling you to stay still. But instead of chastising you, he simply raised an eyebrow and stopped his movements. Rather, he laid his tongue out and let you do as you pleased against it. Your legs wrapped around his shoulders, tightening behind his neck, making him moan.

“You’re very greedy for a virgin...” He breathed hotly against your pussy.

You didn’t bother with giving him a reaction. Your eyes may have been locked on his but you were tuned out, clinging to the sensation of the familiar build-up burning in your abdomen as the movement of your hips faltered, the angle of your body tiring you out already. Thankfully, Ghost saw his opening and continued his previous actions from earlier, before you took over.

You whimpered against his hand, grateful that he wasn’t going to let your budding orgasm falter…

And then he stuck his tongue inside you.

“Mmm!”

You winced as your head fell back against the table, but the sliver of pain didn’t matter. You were now coming again, your legs instinctively squeezing him closer to you. He grunted in response, but didn’t make any effort to let you know if he was uncomfortable, potentially getting suffocated by your vagina.

Hell, he probably likes that anyway.

But then your legs twitched and loosened as you rode out the momentary euphoria, and his hand slowly left your mouth.

You limped against the cold table, panting and exhausted. But Ghost did not seem to care.

“Up.” He commanded.

You groaned and slowly left the table, back aching slightly as you watched him walk over to a counter, grabbing a sanitation wipe.

Wait, what is he…?

And then he walked back over to you, and began wiping down the surface.

There was something so comical about the sight of your Lieutenant sanitizing a table after eating you out on it. But, you were also relieved and… endeared… that he was being so careful about this sort of thing. He then threw away the wipe and turned to face you.

“Alright. Now, go to bed, love.”

You snapped out of your stupor, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Sleeping. You know what it is, right? You get in bed, lay down—“

“Shut up! That’s not what I…” You cleared your throat nervously. “Is… that all you were… gonna do?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice.

He chuckled softly and crossed his arms. “For now, yeah.”

Confusion washed over you. For now? “Why?”

“Once again, I was right. You are a greedy little virgin.” His arms slowly untangled themselves as he walked up to you, a thumb tracing along your bottom lip. “You really want to know, sweetheart?”

Your heart flutters at the nickname. “Yes.”

“Fine…” His thumb left your lip as his hand began caressing your cheek, softly. “I want you to beg for more… for me. I don’t just want you to feel obligated to me, I want you to want to feel that way. I want you to enjoy feeling like that. Am I making sense?”

You blinked at him. “I… think so…”

“But… I’m also a patient man. I’m not going to rush into things, even if you say otherwise. I want you to squirm a bit, if I’m being honest. Make you really… soak it all in. Your feelings, that is.” He glanced down at your lips. “I want you to need me. More than you’ve ever wanted anyone in your life. More than you thought humanly possible…”

“…Are you done?”

“No.” He leaned in closer, your faces almost touching. “I want you to ache for me so badly, your pussy weeps at the sight of me. I want your everything.”

You continued staring at him. “I think you have issues.”

Ghost laughed heartily, the sound ringing in your head like sweet music. “Maybe. But… something tells me you like it.” He playfully smacked your face, before walking away. “You can have the rest of my tea.”

You don’t know where the anger came from. Maybe it was from feeling led on, in some capacity. Did you? You thought there was going to be more, the grand finale…

You turned to watch him go, before gritting out: “I’ll just find someone else, then.”

He quit walking but didn’t turn to face you. “Is that so, Sergeant?” Humor evident in his tone.

“Yes. It is.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

And then he left the mess hall without a single backwards glance. Your threat had fallen on deaf ears.

You stood there in the mess hall, alone and in the dark… mind racing…

…Fucker.

This wasn’t over.

[part one] [part two] [part three]

taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @beansproutmafia

#simon riley #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #my writing #if you wanna be tagged in final part lemme know k bye

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