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#as a person who is likely never going to travel to another country where knowing the language would be essential
embrosegraves · 2 months
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𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥
(request) Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Reader Kimi only allowed one person to truly know him. You.
Warnings: a bit of cussing, poorly google translated Finnish, and extremely brief research of cities in Finland. Briefly edited.
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Kimi famously never allowed his emotions to be on open display for the people around him. He never let people see behind his frosty facade. He never let people get close enough for them to figure him out. He always kept everyone at a distance so there was no possible way for anyone to truly know the type of man he was. Excluding his parents, there was only one exception to all of it.  
You. 
Kimi never intended to bump into anyone on his break between seasons. He had chosen Pori specifically because he knew that no one he worked with knew enough about Finland to know where Pori was. None of his colleagues knew that Pori was roughly a 3 hour drive north west of his home town. With a population of 83 thousand compared to Espoo’s 310 thousand, it wasn’t an extremely well known place. 
Kimi supposed he shouldn’t’ve been so surprised when he bumped into you, causing your coffee to spill everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He never would’ve expected to literally bump into someone he worked with. 
“Katsu se!” You exclaimed. Too busy trying to wipe off the spilt coffee before it could stain your coat too badly. [Watch it!]
“L/n?” 
Of course you knew who it was, how could you not? It wasn’t like you spent a majority of the year around him, battling it out every weekend for top spot on the podium. 
“What Räikkönen? Didn’t expect to see me over break?” You finally looked up and made eye contact with the Finn. 
“Why are you in Finland?” 
“Am I not allowed to go home during winter break?” This had stunned Kimi more than bumping into you. 
“Home?” 
Your annoyance had disappeared a while ago, the whole situation was too amusing for you to be truly annoyed. “Räikkönen, just because I race under a different flag doesn’t mean I’m not associated with another country. I was born in Pori, spent 14 years here before moving overseas.” 
After that the rest was history. You ended up spending more and more of your winter break around Kimi. So much time that the Finn found himself opening up more and more around you. At first he had been the same cold, closed off Kimi that you were used to, but soon enough his metaphorical ice walls began to melt around you. He learnt that your mother had been born in Finland and had met your father while on holiday. You told him that your father had moved to Finland to be with your mother and that you always spent winter break in Pori. You travelled so much for the rest of the year you found there was no point travelling between seasons. 
Throughout your time together, Kimi found himself telling you things he had only ever told his parents. He told you how he had wanted to eventually settle down and start a family. He told you that he truly did believe that Formula 1 was a hobby, that it wasn’t just something he said for the cameras. He told you that sometimes, in the privacy of his own home, he often thought about his imaginary daughters running around and filling his house with giggles and bright smiles. 
Eventually, the winter break would come to an end, and you would both have to go back to the rush of racing every weekend. About a week before preseason testing, you had been hanging out with Kimi in your living room. Talking about everything you had done so far in your careers. Kimi had smiled when you started to laugh at the story he had just finished telling. 
Watching you laugh at something he said had him feeling almost giddy with nerves. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he spoke up softly. 
“Y/n?” 
“Yes Kimi?” You responded, trying your best to calm down from laughing.
“Let me take you on a date.” 
“Kimi- what?” 
“I want to take you on a date. These last months have let me understand that everything I want in life, I want them to be with you.” He said. Taking your hand in his, he spoke with a sincerity you had never seen or heard in a man before. “Let me take you on a date and show you.” 
Your free hand had covered your mouth as he spoke. A month ago, when you realised what your own feelings for him were, you had become determined to never mention them. There was no way The Iceman of all people would feel the same about you. Yet here he was. Sitting on your couch and asking you to go on a date with him. 
“Yes.” 
Kimi gave you a smile that had become less and less rare the more you spent time with him. 
“Thank you.” 
It had been three years since then. In that time you had gone on dates in every country you had travelled to. You both celebrated every win and comforted every loss. Two years into dating, Kimi had asked you to move in and marry him and during the mid-year break, surrounded by both your immediate families, you had become Y/n Räikkönen. Kimi hadn’t cared about telling the other drivers or the media, and you had agreed saying that it would be far funnier if they found out on their own. So nothing had changed in your public routines. In your head you thought the funniest part of it all would be that no one on the grid knew you had even started dating each other. 
Neither of you had gone out of your way to avoid the other, in fact the other drivers often saw you both hanging around each other. Nobody had any inkling that You and Kimi were together as more than friends. Many gossip sources chalked it up to the two “outcasts” of the grid hanging out and left it at that. So it was a surprise to everyone when some fans had pointed out on social media that your signature had changed from your race number and maiden name to Räikkönen. 
Jensen and Fernando, being constantly online, had dragged Sebastian to immediately start searching for the Finn. What they had found was more surprising than your change of signature. Opening the door to Kimi’s drivers room, the three of them saw you sitting on the couch with Kimi lounging on your lap, asleep. You had one hand running through his hair as he slept while the other was scrolling on your phone. Looking up as the door opened, you smiled when you saw who it was. 
“Hello boys. Anything I can help you with?” You asked. Fernando was too shocked to say anything and Jensen had just started stuttering out incoherent sounds, so it was up to Sebastian. 
“There are fans saying that your signature has changed.” 
You huffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb your husband from his rest. “That’s because it has.” 
“But why?” Jensen had managed to get his English under control enough to start actually speaking. 
“Why’d you think it would change Jense?” You were having too much fun with this. 
“But you have never shown any interest in Kimi. And Kimi doesn’t show interest in anything, so when?” It was Fernando’s turn to get over his shock. “How long have you been married? Why did we not know?” 
By now Kimi was definitely awake, though he made no show of it. You could feel Kimi’s hand that was resting between you and the couch back start to gently stroke your thigh. You knew he was also amused. 
“I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you who I was interested in. If I’d known I would’ve told you three years ago.” 
“Three years!?” The three of them cried. 
Eyes still closed, Kimi mumbled to you. “Käske heitä naimaan. Nukun.” [Tell them to fuck off. I’m sleeping.]
“Luulen, että olet levännyt tarpeeksi, rakkaani.” You replied laughing. All Kimi did was groan. [I think you’ve rested enough, my love.] 
“If you wake up properly, I’ll give you a kiss.” 
Opening his eyes, Kimi briefly glanced at the three flabbergasted men still in his driver's room, before looking directly at you. “Teet kovaa kauppaa, vaimo.” [You drive a hard bargain, wife.] 
He sat up nonetheless and moved so you could place your legs over his lap. He looked at the others and spoke. “What else did you want to blubber about?” 
 Kimi was aware that he had a resting bitch face, and most times he didn’t mean to glare at people, but the three men in front of you had clearly been terrified of what Kimi might do if they stayed, so they quickly made their way out of the room. 
“I told you they would find out from the fans.” You laughed. A smile broke out on Kimi’s face. 
“I really thought they were smart enough to figure it out themselves.” 
“Sebastian I could understand, but we’re talking about Jensen and Fernando here, my love. They were never going to figure it out on their own.” 
“That’s true.” Kimi shifted you closer to him, so that you were sitting on his lap facing him. “I believe I was promised a kiss, Wife.” 
“How could I ever deny you, Husband?” You whispered, leaning in close and gently placing your lips to his. His hand moved to the back of your neck to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. Both of you aware of the three drivers that had yet to move from the other side of Kimi’s door. 
It wasn’t your fault if they saw something they shouldn’t’ve.
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Okay, time got away from me for a bit but here it is!
I hope you all enjoyed!
Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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Ok! Thanks.
Could you write a story where you and Charles are dating but nobody knows about it because you're a F1 journalist and are afraid to lose your job. On one race, Ferrari fucks him up and you have to interview him after it. You thought he would be mad but instead you saw a sad and disappointed Charles and his eyes and body movement were kinda begging for a kiss and a hug but you knew you couldn't do anything at that moment and your heart couldn't handle seeing him like that. But when you get to the hotel you are all his.
Just Hold Me - Charles Leclerc
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<word count - 1824>
A/N - This is Austin minus the DSQ because I could not handle that OK enjoy!
The media room wasn't fun at the best of times, let alone at the beginning of a race while you waited for the five red lights to go out. But, that didn't matter, since you adored your job. You got to live your dream, whilst travelling all over the world and to the most beautiful countries.
You travelled more in a year than some people did in their entire lives, and that was a privilege that you were unbelievably grateful to have. Whether it be the sunkissed sands of Australia, the glittering Monaco Marina, or the festival feel of Mexico, you were always in a beautiful part of the world. 
It truly was your dream, and you were able to share it with the most unlikely of people. Athletes and celebrities alike didn't tend to like the press or interviewers. Journalists like you were paid to poke into their lives and ask pressing questions on air. 
But, Charles Leclerc had unexpectedly taken quite a liking to the one Sky Sports F1 interviewer who he talked to after every race. Throughout the whole of the 2022 season, he looked forward to those post-race interviews. Yes, last season had been going a lot better than this season, and there were many more positive things to talk about, but he still enjoyed the few moments spent with you. 
During the summer break, Charles had reached out to you after you had run into him in Monaco one day. He offered to do an interview about what he was getting up to over the weeks off, and your journalistic heart couldn't say no. 
The pair of you had met up at a cafe, but no interview was conducted. You spent your time talking and getting to know each other better. You had talked to him numerous times, but only ever for those 5 minutes or less after a race.
He had disguised your next meet up a few days later as another opportunity to actually get your interview done, but it never came into fruition. You saw right through him, but never said anything. You quickly fell head over heels for the dashing driver just like he had for you, but you had agreed to keep your relationship secret. 
It could have put your job in jeopardy, since your boss might think you would ask more favourable questions to Charles, or relinquish honesty in your articles in an effort to make him look good. There was also the added pressure of possibly being asked to write about his personal life, or what he's like behind the scenes just for a few extra clicks on those web articles. 
As you were thinking about him, Charles just so happened to pop up on the screen as they showed him, sat in his car, on pole position. Charles' statistics in regards to him being on pole were less than flattering, but you had every faith in him.
It was times like these, as you watched him in his shining scarlet car, that you wished you could have been sat in the Ferrari garage, just like he had asked you to so many times. 'Just tell them it's for one of your articles or something' Charles would say whenever you declined. 
If you sat in Ferrari one day, you would have to sit in every other garage. Also, there were people out there who would jump to accuse you of dishonest journalism, and that was something you prided yourself on avoiding. Being indicted of being bribed by Ferrari for information was the last thing you needed.
As the race progressed, it was looking more and more dismal. They had tried to put Charles on a one stop, but he was the only one who stuck to it when everyone else had abandoned the spur of the moment idea for longevity on track.
It didn't help that he had been jumped at the start by Lando, but he could have pulled it back if his tyres weren't dying a slow, painful death. He sounded less than impressed when they asked him to let Carlos by, and it wasn't a good sign when he said they should 'Talk after the race'.
To pin the nail in the coffin, they asked him to come in to change the tyres. You couldn't show any emotion, or cheer him on from where you were sitting. You just had to remain silently seething. You couldn't help but chuckle as he yelled that that would 'fuck up his race' and he just wanted to try. 
That was something you admired about Charles. He always tried, even when things were tough like they were right now. When he crossed the line in fifth, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Fifth wasn't bad by any means, but he was hoping for a podium, and so was everyone. 
You had to go and get into position, ready with your microphone in the media pen. Drivers rolled around, one by one, and your heart dropped when you saw Charles walking over. You thought he'd be angry, you thought he'd have that scowl of annoyance on his face. 
But, he just looked downright dejected. He could barely look you in the eyes as he stood there, really not in the mood to answer your questions. "Charles, you had a tough race out there. How were you initially feeling about the one-stop strategy?" You asked as he listened to your voice. 
It was soothing to him in some regards, hearing your voice could lull him into calmness for a short while. However, he wished you weren't asking those goddamn questions right now. "It sounded like a good plan, since George and Lando were on it, but we should have changed when everyone else did," he said, clearly not wanting to elaborate more than necessary. 
"How do you feel about the race as a whole?" You asked, this time he was actually making eye contact with you. As he answered, he just had that glint in his eye that was begging for a hug and a kiss, just any form of comfort that he could get. 
He didn't care that there were people everywhere, he didn't care who saw. He just wanted to fall into your embrace in search of solace. Just getting to touch you would put him at ease somewhat, but he knew it could cost you your job. Resisting the temptation was more difficult than he could have imagined, though. 
You were struggling too. The urge to wrap your arms around him and make the pain go away was becoming unbearable.  He needed you right now, but you weren't able to be there for him like you so desperately wanted to. 
While he answered your final question before George came through, your job didn't seem all that important anymore. If getting to sit in the Ferrari garage every week, and getting to be with him in public meant you lost your job, then so be it. 
Your heart ached for him, and you were struggling to remain a neutral interviewer. It was like it was being ripped out of your chest as you questioned him. Before you could break the facade and embrace him, Charles thanked you and moved on, probably going to have that aforementioned talk with Xavi. 
Later on, you arrived back at the hotel before he did and got changed into more comfortable clothes as you waited for him. After what felt like hours, the door quietly clicked open, and Charles trudged through the room.
Neither of you said a word as you stood from where you were sat on the bed, and walked up to him. He fell into your arms, clasping onto you for dear life. You ran your fingers up and down his spine as you kissed the top of his head, glad to have him with you. 
Charles was just glad to have your arms wrapped around his weary figure, feeling some of his worries melt away slightly. He had you now, and it made the stress and disappointment he felt somewhat bearable. You made a stormy day sunny for him, and his was pleased that he had found someone who could bring him that consolation.  All he wanted to do after that absolute shitbox of a race was crawl into bed, and cuddle with you. "Do you want to order room service for dinner?" You broke the silence, pulling away from him so you could look at his face. 
His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were looking drowsy. They didn't have that usual brightess about them, the glowing joy being replaced by a tired dullness. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled, pressing his face back into the crook of your neck. You weren't too hungry either, so you decided you'd just deal with it. Charles needed you, and nothing was going to take you away from him. "How about you go and have a shower, and then we can just go to bed?" you suggested, as he nodded and hummed in confirmation. 
He reluctantly detached himself from you, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. It was time to play the waiting game one more time, but not for as long. It wasn't often you saw him this melancholy and dismal, but even then he was usually more talkative. 
Then again, he didn't need to talk to tell you how he was feeling. You could read his face and body language like a book, and it was clear he was very upset. The shower turned off, and a few moments later, the bathroom door opened and Charles emerged. 
He clambered into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest. He breathed heavily as he held himself as close to you as he possibly could. 
You hated seeing him like this, and you wished you could unfuck the fuck ups that had happened. Anything to make the pain go away. "It's OK, baby, you did amazing. There was nothing else you could have done," you reassured him, but he didn't respond. 
He simply hid his face from you, holding onto you even tighter. "You can talk to me, you know," you prompted, hoping he would open up. It might have made him feel better. "Tomorrow," he said, and you could just about see his eyes closing. 
"OK, sweetheart, I'm here if you need me. Do you want a water or anything?" You asked, looking down at him. "No, I just want you to stay here," he said, and you were happy to fulfill his request. Having to wait that long to hold him was agonizing, but you were glad to have him in your arms now. 
Maybe one day you'd be able to embrace him in the paddock, or after an interview, but that time wasn't now. Now, Charles needed you, and you would always be there for him.
A/N - Another request ticked off the list! Requests will be probably be taking a bit of time, since I will be writing the two Halloween Specials, but still feel free to drop them! I haven't gotten any Lando or Max ones... So they might be appreciated if you catch my drift. Have a wonderful day/night, and I love you 💖
|masterlist|
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unfinishedslurs · 1 year
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stonathan fwb (steddie)
this one is inspired by this fic by fivecenturiesverse
“Nancy and I broke up.”
“Shit,” Steve says, somehow managing to sound surprised. As if he and Nancy weren’t teetering on the verge of something throughout spring break. “That sucks, man.”
“It…was a long time coming, I think,” Jonathan admits. There’s a soft thump, like Steve clapping Jonathan’s shoulder in solidarity. 
They don’t say anything else, and Eddie almost leaves to go eavesdrop somewhere else when Jonathan speaks. 
“Are you…going to do anything about that?”
“About what?” Steve asks, genuine confusion in his voice. 
“Nancy.”
“Oh.” Steve doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Eddie braces himself to hear the truth. That he’s going to ask her out, ask to get married, ask her to have his six little nuggets and travel across the country together. “No.” 
Eddie’s brain record scratches. 
“Really?” Jonathan sounds rightfully skeptical. 
“Yeah, I don’t…” he lets out a nervous laugh, and Eddie can picture him raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “There’s…someone else, and I can’t…she’s amazing. Nancy, I mean. She’s, like, this huge person in my mind, you know? I wanted to love her so much, and I convinced myself she loved me back because it was easier than admitting I was clinging onto something that wasn’t meant to be. I kind of put my whole future on her. Figured if I could love any girl, it’d be the perfect one right in front of me.” He laughs again, hollow. “She was right, to call it bullshit. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“If it helps, I think she really did love you,” Jonathan says, sounding fake as all hell. 
Steve brushes him off. “No you don’t. It’s okay, it was never really real. Not like you guys. That…that really sucks, man.”
“It’s for the best, I think.” There’s a long pause. “You said…if you could love a girl, it would be Nancy.”
“…I did say that,” Steve says warily. Eddie has a feeling he really, really shouldn’t be listening to this, but he can’t bring himself to back away. 
“Do you…are you…” 
“If you’re going to be an asshole, I should tell you that I’ve been working out a lot since ‘83,” Steve interrupts. 
“I noticed,” Jonathan mutters. 
What. 
“What?”
“What?”
“I…nothing,” Steve sighs. 
There’s another, longer pause, filled with tension that Jonathan decides to take an emotional jackhammer to. “Do you want to fuck me?” 
What the fuck. 
Oh, God, he’s going to have to save Jonathan Byers from his tragically straight crush. From their mutual tragically straight crush? …their mutual tragically straight crush, who admitted to not liking girls? 
Something’s not adding up. 
“What the fuck, Byers?” Steve sounds angry, and Eddie prepares to jump in. “What, you think just because I’m queer I automatically want to sleep with you?”
What. 
“No!” Jonathan yelps. “No, that’s not it, it’s just…we’re both queer, and stuck here for the foreseeable future, and I’ve never been with a guy but I trust you.”
There’s a stunned silence. 
“You’re queer.”
Jonathan doesn’t say anything, probably dying of mortification. 
“You trust me?”
“Steve,” Jonathan says gently, and Eddie nearly bites through his tongue. “Of course I do.”
“You and Nancy just broke up,” Steve says, wavering. “And I can’t…there’s someone else. I wasn’t lying about that.”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can say no. I just figured I’d ask.”
“Fuck,” Steve mutters. “You realize I’m just as in the dark here as you are, right? I’ve never been with a guy either.”
“We can find out together,” Jonathan says. “Only if you want to, though.”
A heavy silence, where Eddie has to bite his tongue to keep his cool. 
“Fuck it. Why the hell not?”
Then Eddie has to leave for the sake of his own sanity. Not before he hears the wet smack of a kiss, though. 
Eddie might be going insane. 
It’s like everywhere he looks he sees signs of Steve and Jonathan’s… development. Steve leans forward to grab something and his eyes catch on a hickey under his collar. Jonathan sits a little too gingerly one day, and Eddie’s immediately caught up in a fiery inferno of jealousy that he’s not the one sore from whatever Steve did last night. He has to leave the room. 
It gets even worse when Steve comes by DND wearing a shirt that is clearly Jonathan’s. 
“What are you wearing?” Dustin demands before he can. It’s probably a good thing he did, Eddie might have just started biting him to stake a claim. Which is a useless thought, because Steve isn’t his to claim at all. Steve is Jonathan’s. And stake a claim he did. 
He kind of wishes he could hate Jonathan, but he can’t. The guy’s just so sweet with his brother, and it’s obvious in the way he takes care of people that he’s a good guy. The kind of guy who deserves someone like Steve. Someone would have to be a crazy, fucked-up, jealous asshole to hate him. 
Eddie is all of those things. He’s also great at lying to himself. If he doesn’t admit he hates Jonathan Byers, fellow freak, for sleeping with the most unfortunately spectacular jock imaginable, he never has to confront his own failure to keep to his code. The doctrine that Steve cheerfully set on fire and then stomped the ashes into dust. All without knowing it, the asshole. 
He really can’t blame Jonathan. Eddie’s well aware that he’s made up some weird, one-sided rivalry in his head over Steve’s affections. It’s not his fault that one of them got the guy, and the other got to scream into his pillow at 2am. 
Sure, they both said they were hung up on other people, but how long would that really last? He’s fairly sure Steve was lying about having feelings for someone. Eddie can’t help but watch him, and he’s never once seen a sign Steve was interested in any of the other men he hung out with. 
Steve colors. “It’s Jonathan’s,” he says, picking at the band tee like he’s self-conscious about it. Which is ridiculous. He obviously knows he looks good in anything. “I…uh…spilled something on mine.”
From the way he talks, Eddie has a pretty good idea what exactly got on his shirt. He takes deep breaths, and tries not to chew through the table. He wishes Steve were in his band shirt instead. He’d look great in Judas Priest merch. 
He tries not to picture him in a Corroded Coffin shirt. He fails.
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irishmammonagenda · 17 days
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Hi! Can i request MC with older brothers (i have four older brothers 😂) who are very protective of their little sister, and reaction of demon brothers, when MC wants to introduce them to her siblings?
hiya! ofc u can, im so sorry this is so late i saw it in my askbox like a week a week ago then forgot about it 😭😭 and then went away for easter and forgot abt it again😭😭
grma for the ask <3 fic dividers by @cafekitsune
MC With Older Brothers-Obey Me Brothers x Reader
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When you had first been transferred to the Devildom, the inital shock of the new environment, the fact that demons and angels were actually real, the fact the fact that magic was actually real had made you forget about the reactions of your family back home upon realising yoou had just disappeared without a trace. It took you around a month to even remember, after the shock had worn off, and you had stopped living in survival mode. You hastily travelled to the Demon Lord´s Castle, and requested a formal visit to your family.
They were livid. Relieved but livid. Your parents, who were workaholics hadn´t noticed until around halfway through the second week. Your older brothers however, noticed the first day. And oh boy, did they want answers.
Going through Barbatos' portal was never a truly pleasant experience, although it wasn't unpleasant either. It was like that feeling in the pit of your abdomen when you're pushed too high on a swingset, but to a lesser extent. It almost looked like stars as the insides of the vortex falshed before your eyes before fading to reveal the park that you grew up near.
The reds and oranges of the leaves shone sparkling against the reddening sky with the morning dew. The early birds chirped, diving for worms, leaves fell gently down to the ground. You made your way home.
The familiar white door stood out like the gates of the Celestial Realm, your own personal paradise, everything you knew before the rug was pulled under you. You tried the doorhandle. Locked. Sighing, you looked under the entrance mat for the spare key and unlocked the door, walking into the hall. You had entered the kitchen and saw Evan, your second eldest brother making a sandwhich.
"Hiya!" You greet him. "Whatcha makin', Evs?"
Evan, who had just picked up his plate turned around and dropped it, his jaw slacked open, eyes wide. He stared at you, not even caring that his sandwich had fallen. "Y-you…where the fuck have you been?!"
"Uh...I-"
"Y'know what? Don't answer that yet." He steps away from you, moving out of the kitchen to the base of the stairs. "Sammie! Ben!" Evan shouts a few times, before hearing a pair of 'what?!'s back. "Get your asses down here now!"
Soon enough, reluctant thuds sound from the top of the stairs, getting louder as two of your brothers thunder down the stairs, you gulp. Lord Diavolo, you were in for it now.
Samuel appears downstairs first, the baggy MCR shirt he always wears to lounge around half hidden by his stained jacket. Ben follows soon after, phone in hand, no doubt open on the game he had been testing out. They both stall when they see you, Ben trips, and starts to fall, taking Samuel down with him.
“I-…MC..” Samuel swallows thickly. “W-where have you been…”
Ben parrots this.
You gulp. Adam—your oldest brother—would no doubt be the worst. And he wasn’t even home yet!
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When Adam, your oldest brother did return from his date with his girlfriend (as you found out), he had demanded answers, and a hug. You try to explain it away, saying you found a scholarship at a college in another country, you must've just forgot to mention it! Silly you! Atleast that's what you were telling your older brothers, they didn't need to know you were taken to hell and the scholarship wasn't too far from the truth!
"Why didn't you visit? Or call? Or anything?" Was a question you heard parroted back to you multiple times.
"I...uh...it was just the craziness of it all....I forgot to call..." You rub the back of your neck. "I had to get a new phone anyway..." You say, giving them your number. It was a reasonable excuse. They couldn't exactly argue with it.
Samuel grabs your hand, the rough callouses of his fingers comforting. Permanent dents from his mastery of the guitar, he swings your arm back and forth, reminding himself that you're not in a ditch somewhere. "As long as you're safe...."
Evan huffs, Adam stares at you, eyes following your every move, he grumbles, "You're coming home every holiday you can. And calling us regularly. No more dropping off the face of the earth."
"Haha alright!" You laugh nervously, he didn't need to know that you technically did fall off the face of the earth.
"And I want to visit this College." Adam adds, Evan nods in agreement, as do the two younger of the brothers.
Shit.
Ben stretches, before sitting forward. "So tell us all about your dorm. Got any roommates?"
And boy, did that cause a few heated discussions. Though in the end you got away pretty much scott free. Though you had to visit bi-monthly, and call atleast bi-weekly.
On one of these bi-monthly visits, you'd decided to bring one of your 'roommates' along with you....
Just how would that go?....
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LUCIFER
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"Oh?~ Care to repeat that, MC?"
It had been a busy day in the Devildom for the Avatar of Pride. He was finishing up on paperwork when you came into his office asking him to come to the next visit to your brothers with you.
He acts a bit cocky over it, with his signature smirk and all, but agrees almost instantly.
Despite the fact that you asked HIM to meet your family, and that he was feeling quite flustered, he still somehow managed to make your cheeks burn and make you feel much more flustered about the situation.
"Hi everyone, this is Lucif-Lucius...! He's one of my roommates!"
"Lucius?"
"...My parents were Greek."
"Yeah, Ben, his parents were Greek don't be racist."
Lucifer relates to Adam on the sole basis that they're both the eldest, though he does feel second hand embarrassment anytime said brother would do anything a little too like him.
Overall its a pleasant time, your brothers were quite charmed by the Avatar of Pride, and it makes your pact mark buzz.
Lucifer fights the urge to place his palms over his face and re-contemplate his entire life and every single action he'd ever taken as he watches Adam, your eldest brother, lecture Samuel, the youngest of your elder brothers. The older man is glaring exasperatedly, Samuel hides his hands in his pocket, clearly uninterested. You watch on and feel a sort of deja vu, so does Lucifer. Does he seriously look like that when he gives out lectures? No wonder his brothers are so unruly! You pat his back from where you both sit on the sofa, he glares at you, though there's no bite to it. The second hand embarrassment is very strong.
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MAMMON
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"WHA- ehem...I-i mean of course ye'd want te intreduce yer b-brothers to the great M-mammon...!"
If Mams has a tail it'd be wagging like a helicopter propeller thingy.
You want HIM to visit your family?!
He's super tempted to go back and buy the engagement ring he'd saw in a jewellery shop window when shopping now!
He had been too nervous at the time....was he moving too fast...?
He's a nervous wreck, all the way there he's muttering things you can't understand in irish (gaeilgeoir mams agenda)
You can pick up the word 'focáil' (fuck) being thrown about a lot.
What de ye mean MC? He IS calm! Calmer than the sea on a stormy day...but thats still sort of calm!
The name Mammon isn't really known to anyone outside of the occult, so he doesn't change it.
"Mammon?" Evan says raising a brow, "What kind of a name is that?"
"He's Irish Evs don't be racist."
"Oh."
The dinner is quite awkward, but in the end, he somehow manages to win over your brothers.
and hey, if Ben gets more donations from people when he streams, Adam gets more costumers for his personal training, and Samuel and Evan get promotions at their jobs, well he didn't mean to! Honest!
Mammon sits at the dinner table with about as much nervousness as a schoolboy waiting outside the principal's office, he answers every question with a stutter, and tries his best to remember his table manners, your brothers are eyeing him suspiciously, until a clang sounds through the small kitchen, you had dropped your fork. Mammon perks up, happy to be 'useful' to you, "I'll get it!" and he practically dives down to get the utensil before washing it off and giving it to you. Your brothers relax slightly, deeming him too whipped for you to truly be a scumbag.
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LEVIATHAN
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"You want ME to WHAT?!"
bros panicking more than mammon☠️
Are you sure you want a stinky smelly otaku like me to-😰😰😰😰😰
It takes ages to calm him down enough, then he just feels flustered.
This reminds him of an anime with an insanely long name!
When you arrive at your house, he's so fidgety and nervous someone give this man a hug (dont he'll scream)
You introduce him as Levi, no one bats an eye to that one, hooray!
the atmosphere is very awkward until he notices the sticker on Ben's phonecase.
He finds out that your brother is a streamer, MC how could you never tell him?!
its a lot less awkward a lot more nerdy now.
"O-oh well I see where you're coming from, the mechanics and graphics on the game were great, but the lore needed work!" Levi says, stuttering far less than you'd expect him to. Ben nods, "I mean, I just kind of stayed for the boss fights, but yeah the lore was a bit..." He makes a face. Leviathan leans over, eyes sparkling, you admire them freely, normally he'd notice by now and be too flustered to continue talking. "Yeah! It had so much potential! But it just seemed so rushed!" You look around the room, Adam and Evan are conversing amongst eachother quietly, whilst Sam is trying his best to follow the conversation that Levi and Ben are having.
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SATAN
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"Oh? I'd be honoured..."
He's giddy, you wanted him of all of his brothers to come with you? Take that Lucifer!
This reminds him of when the love interest brings the protagonist to meet their family!
He reads up on the scenes as a sort of revision, though his natural charm is going to win them over anyway...or maybe not...
"Hello my name's Satan." He reaches out to shake Adam's hand.
Adam swallows, "Satan?"
Satan chuckles, having made a rookie mistake in his nervousness, "My parents were...devout satanists...I've had a hard life..."
Samuel pats his shoulders, "Oh you poor thing..."
He's honestly quite the gentleman, your brothers quite like him, despite his 'unfortunate' name.
"So S-satan..." Adam begins, "What was it like growing up with Satanist parents?" Satan sets his for down, "Oh, not as bad as one would think..." he quickly bullshits, "I did grow up in a very gothic style house though.." Your brothers nod, Evan intterupts, "So did you ever sacrifice any cats?" Satan grips his knife tightly, you feel rage bubble up in his pact mark. "No, satanists--atleast sane satanists--don't do that..." "Oh right..." Evan raises his hands in defense, "Just curious." "Oh no you're fine..." He says smoothly.
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ASMODEUS
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"Oh my Devil!~ I'd love to!"
Posts about it to his devilgram.
He's geniunely honoured, and sososososo excited.
"Hey guys, this is Asmodeus!"
"..Asmodeus?"
"...His parents are french..."
"Poor thing..."
ofc he wins them over, who do you think he is?
Adam loves him now, and Asmo is his goto for relationship advice.
Adam growns, looking at his phone, you give him a knowing look, "Trouble in Paradise?" "I forgot about our anniversary coming up! It's tomorrow!" He looks geniunely stressed. "There's no way I can get a restaurant reservation in time!" He says, stressing about his upcoming anniversary, it was his turn to do something. He didn't want to disappoint his girlfriend. Asmo shrugs, "So don't." Adam looks at him incredulously. "Excuse me?" "Don't go to a restaurant...the weather forecast says it'll be nice tomorrow, do a picnic or something." Adam gapes his mouth, breathlessly replying, "Yeah that could work...that could work..." A day later, Adam rings you, the picnic was a success! He demands Asmo's number.
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BEELZEBUB
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"Oh? Yeah MC I'd love to." :D
He's a little bit nervous, but happy that you asked him to go
Plus there's food involved.
Things that are important to you + you + food? He's in heaven (figuratively, last time he was in heaven he got thrown out, literally thrown)
Overall he's really sweet, has to eat a lot before he gets there so he doesn't accidentally eat one of your brothers.
"Hi I'm Beel."
"Beel?"
"He's Russian Evan, don't be racist." You bullshit, Beel looks at you, then smiles because he's looking at you :D
Your brothers love him, he's such a gentle giant.
Beel smiled happily, "This food is amazing." He says, closed eyed smile. "Thanks!" Evan grinned, "Cooked it myself!" Samuel scoffs, "No you didn't you microwaved it." Evan hits him over the head, "Shut up." He grumbles. Beel smiles again, they remind him so much of his own brothers.
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BELPHEGOR
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"No."
"What do you mean no?" :(
"I'm not going."
"Please."
"No."
"Pleaseee."
"Still no." He groans, putting his pillow over his face.
"I'll just have to ask Lucifer then..."
He jumps up. "Like fuck you will...c'mon, we have a family dinner to attend."
As per usual he is a bastard.
The waling talking definition of a bastard.
Your brothers hate him at first, but as the night goes on, they find out he's actually kind of funny.
"This is Belphie!"
"Belphie?"
"He's Russian don't be racist." You lie.
"Poor thing."
Belphie glares at you.
Belphie groans into his pillow, finally home, he drags you and pulls you onto the bed. Holding you in a vice like grip. "I'm never doing that again." He says tiredly, using you as a teddy bear to go to sleep. Bastard.
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im experimenting with post designs :D
'gaeilgeoir' means irish speaker, i've seen it spelt other ways tho
219 notes · View notes
kazumist · 2 months
Text
EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN
YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU
masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.
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“stop following me.”
“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.
you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”
“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.
“i—”
he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.
“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.
he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.
“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”
silence.
say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.
he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”
another moment of silence.
diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.
“it can’t happen, (name).”
tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.
“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”
you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.
so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.
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extra notes.
i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL
anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3
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taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]
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221 notes · View notes
goldenhickeysandramen · 2 months
Text
Evolution of their narrative
I admit it. I also get confused as to what kind of couple Tae& Koo is supposed to be to their shippers.
When I first joined the fandom they were the “hidden couple”, and jikook was “fan service”, cause is what the masses demanded from BH/Bang PD.
It didn't take me long to realise that the "masses" in this fandom are actually the taek00kers (humaluvre is bigger than the majority of the most famous JK's focus accs) … So I've never really understood who the masses-asking-massively-for-"jikook"-content were 🤷‍♀️
Then, I read them that the big proof that taek00k was real was, precisely, that they couldn’t do all the things that jikook could do so well (you know, travel together only the two of them, stare at each other in rapt attention, sucking ears and necks, treat each other as a married couple, support each other to the fullest, holding hands whenever they have the opportunity…). The reason of them not doing all of these things was South Korea, since it is an homophobic country.
That’s why the company edited the content and didn't let them interact. It was all cuts and so on. Everything they did was private, and that's why there was no evidence, other than some witnesses of people with telescopic sight and facial recognition (maybe they were androids?)
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I had more or less understood the narrative, until the LOVEGRAM era started, and that's when it all blew over!
Their insta accounts were no longer professional accounts (like twitter or weverse), but personal… and from then on, their selfies were some short of engagement pics or couple confirmation and their funny comments about boxing hooks were actually whipped messages of love.
Btw it seems South Korea was no longer homophobic at that time.
INSTAGRAM WAS THE LAW
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When JK closed his Instagram account (forced by the company 😌) we were already in chapter 2. The lovegram didn't matter anymore…because Jungkook hanging out sometimes with Tae and wooga became the confirmation of what Instagram -in reality- failed to confirm. Never mind that their hanging out concentrated during some months when they both had more free time or that they actually just did what good friends do: having fun at the movies, bowling or skiing together with other friends… but hey, those tiny details don't matter in the great love story that is told.
And from there we move on to the part where the CHAOS really started, when the COMPANION SYSTEM news dropped
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And guess what? Korea became homophobic again
Some said that they were forced to part ways (the company, the government, themselves because they wouldn't last a second without f?….). Gays dont enlist together they said.
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Another line of argument was that Jimin had asked JK to enlist with him… I guess because he was going to be terrible at the military. LOL
But we all can sense that the most extended opinion was "I can't understand this plot twist for shit".
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(Maybe the problem is they never understood their favs but that’s for another post)
And in the midst of CHAOS it was no longer possible to think of a new narrative...that's why the strategy became "attack". If they can't prove that their favourites are a couple, they'll go and debunk the rest.
At this point they don’t seem to care if ta3k00k is real or not… they simply choose not to surrender and ignore some facts. If they freaking ignored Jennie during a year, they will do the same with jikook being glued for 18 months.
So in the next months, we'll probably see part of fandom (solos and tkkers) attacking jikookers, and another part trying to ignore us. I fear the chaos will continue… pretty sure some toxic ones will watch the travel show just to diss jikook..
But we shouldn’t care too much because as we have seen, Jimin and Jungkook will never stop taking their decisions and behaving with authenticity
The boys have chosen their own path this year, not to please the majority of their fandom (jikookers are not the mass), but because they wanted to.
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At the end of the day, they care about their fans, but we don’t own their lifes and they have shown us. And I applaud 👏 them
And yes, maybe their country and the careers they have chosen dont allow them to be fully free…. but they dont prevent them to stay one next to the other. They know how to choose the battles worth fighting for.
Don't you think it's beautiful and says a lot about the quality of love and respect that Jimin and Jungkook have for each other?
I think so
"standing in the fire next to you"
💜💛
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noroi1000 · 10 months
Note
can i order something satosugu with a girlfriend who is very air-headed and incredibly strong, as if she is a special grade sorceress, but despite her strength, she is very affectionate with her boyfriends
Strength is not everything
SatoSugu x reader
Summary: You are not strong without them. Despite being a special grade sorcerer. You are weak without them. Without them, your strength is meaningless.
"What are you doing there?"
You looked at your boyfriends who were standing in the bedroom doorway staring at you.
"You were supposed to leave... Did something happen?" Suguru asked you, watching your face.
You were going abroad.
Because according to the superiors, it doesn't make sense that three special grade sorcerers are in Japan, in the same place in Tokyo.
While Okkotsu and Tsukumo were traveling around the world, you were in Japan. And sometimes you just went on missions abroad. But then you went home.
However, you were to leave for Europe forever. To take over missions there. So that there are not so many powerful sorcerers in Japan.
You were supposed to fly there today.
They took you on the last stationary date before you left.
Because once you leave, you'll never live with them again. The only contact you will have with them is the Internet.
Nothing more...
That's why you were sad...
You were a very confident person. Your superiors didn't like you because you were too brazen with your strength.
You thought they wanted to get rid of you.
And it hurt you that they hate you so much that they want you to leave the country.
Once you're gone, the only time you'll be able to meet them live is when you're in Europe, and so are they.
However, neither they nor you can take a long leave of absence. Because they can't do it without you...
That's why your life was bad in that sense.
You didn't have much free time. The Missions and Teaching of Students...
If you were to leave, you'd lose a part of you...
You couldn't smile without them.
You're really attached to them... You can't live without them.
Would you just go away and leave them?
You don't want to live a life where you have them far away from you.
It would be the most painful time for you and them.
You've been with them all day. All night. To give them one last evening with you.
Without them, it doesn't matter how strong you are...
You cried in the night knowing it was the last time you could cuddle with them for so long.
You cried when you didn't want to let them go at the airport.
You cried when you knew what you had with them would never happen again. Because you'll have to have a different life.
But how were you supposed to give up loving them? How could you stop wanting to live without them? How
How?
You couldn't. You're too used to their presence.
You're too used to them being there all the time.
You loved them too much.
You couldn't live without them in another country. On another continent. It pained you to know that you would be alone in your new home. And they won't come home from work to lie down next to you.
You will never live in Japan again. You will never live the way you used to live.
Since your home will be in another country...
Maybe you were brazen with your strength... But when it came to them, you were so weak with them...
They were stronger than you. It is obvious. But you were still strong.
And their presence made you even stronger...
How could you just give up your happiness because others told you to...?
Would you rather have them than this strength...
You preferred to have their love forever ... And not to sit in another country and see them only via the Internet.
You want skin to skin contact. With them. You don't want to sleep alone in bed.
You want to sleep in your big bed where the three of you sleep.
Because of this bond with them. Because of this attachment. You wouldn't be able to live normally without them.
Before you got on the plane, you ran out of there.
You escaped and returned home on your own.
So that later when they come home they see you on your bed with tears on your cheeks.
You pulled them both to you, not caring that they both fell on top of you, crushing you on the bed.
You cried holding their bodies.
"Baby-." Satoru started. But before he could finish, you started sobbing the words into their bodies.
"I do not want! I do not want to leave! I want to stay with you!" you moaned.
You were so strong. But they're so weak. So weak without them.
You couldn't be strong when you were taken from them.
You could never be powerful when you were separated from them.
It was such a cruel and horrible feeling... But it was real.
Every strong man has his weakness.
They are your weakness.
Because without them you can't be strong...
"You don't have to leave if you don't want to..." said the White Haired Man as they climbed off of you, laying on either side of you.
They wiped your tears.
"You never have to leave us. You know very well that we love you."
You smiled slightly at their words.
So nice and comforting.
You are so strong. But without them you can't use your strength.
You've become too attached to them to leave now. Nothing would be the same without them.
That's why you want to stay forever with the two men you love so much.
"If I was without you, my strength doesn't matter."
457 notes · View notes
jaegeraether · 5 months
Text
Sunsets and footballers (Part 14)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (14)
Masterlist (other parts here)
(**Been waiting a while to introduce this new character... **)
Lucy was gripping the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb, her eyes closed, jaw twitching. Katie reached across the table to touch her but stopped at YFN shaking her head. “No,” she said gently. “Just… give her some time to process.”
Katie began looking around for the stalker.
“What are you going to do?” Jordan asked, her eyes also wandering. They all knew they were safe together.
“Well it says they want to see me within 48 hours.. so I’ll prepare tonight and go in tomorrow. I’ll give them all my information and explain. I have proof of them stalking me and I’ve done nothing wrong.. it’s not like I’m from a threatening country. Australia is part of the Commonwealth so everything should be okay..”
Lucy stood and left, scanning around for the stalkers as she waded through the crowded area, though always keeping YFN in sight.
“What time are you leaving?” YFN asked Jordan.
“Tomorrow morning. I’m giving myself a day for the drive and to settle back in before training starts again. When are you coming?”
YFN looked around to see Lucy talking to someone who looked like a Manager. “I’m not sure.. Luce is here for another week but I think she wants to see her family in Manchester.. so maybe we’ll be staying there for a few days and then with you for a few before she leaves?”
“Sounds right, I think Luce wants to get you settled in with me before she goes.” Jordan cringed as realised what she’d said and gave a sheepish look to YFN who rolled her eyes. Of course Lucy spoken to Jordan about staying with her in Birmingham. She looked over at Lucy who was heading back to them, her heart melting even more.
“If you’re still hanging around with your Visa thing, you should come watch us train,” Caitlin said.
“Plus, aren’t you a writer?” Katie asked. “They’re always lookin’ fer writers for sports columns but they can never find good ones. They’re always so borin’ and invasive so none of the players want ta open up to them. But we all already know you..”
Lucy sat back down as YFN mulled it over. “Sports column?” Lucy asked gruffly.
“Just an idea.” Katie shrugged. “It’d be great to do interviews where we know the person and know they aren’t going ta just make up a story. We always have to be so careful with the media trainin’ and such.”
“It’s… it’s a really good idea. I love it, actually. It would be great if it were across all of the leagues..” Her pinky reached out for Lucy, testing the waters, and Lucy hooked her pinky around it. Their little way of communicating.
“I think they’d want you to cover as much as possible." Caitlin said. “Especially if lots of players know you. I’ll send you the details of the company. They just can’t find anyone to cover one league let alone all of them. It’ll be a lot of work but if you’re keen..”
YFN nodded. “I’ll be interested but… maybe don’t send me anything yet. My Visa… I’m not allowed to work. And tomorrow I guarantee they’ll go through my phone and messages with a fine-toothed-comb so if it all goes well then I’ll ask them about the possibility of changing to a working visa… and also having to travel across Europe and what those entry requirements are.”
“Okay… we may already have chatted to the company…”
“What?!”
“It’s okay! It’s nothing official, we didn’t give them your name, we just told them about you and that you used to write a column and that you’re here now and have made a lot of friends with the players..”
“Wow, is it really that bad for you guys with media?”
They all nodded.
“The amount of media training we’ve been through is ridiculous.” Jordan said. “And then we stress about what parts they’re going to use and what they’re going to cut! So if we have someone we can trust then it takes all of that stress away.”
“Okay…. Okay.. I’ll think about it and see how tomorrow goes. If they barely agree to accept my current Visa though, I won’t ask them..”
“That’s fair enough, it was just an idea,” Jordan shrugged and YFN chuckled at that. “Wait.. you’ve all spoken about this?” She thought it was just Katie and Caitlin.
“Of course mate!” She slapped a hand to her shoulder. “We don’t want you going anywhere.”
YFN’s heart filled just a little more as she smiled at her friend. “Birmingham is going to be so much fun.”
“Ohhh yes.” She leant around YFN to look at Lucy. “Any news?”
Lucy shook her head. “No one saw them and they’re not here now. I want us to get out of here though.” She looked at YFN, her protective green eyes locking with hers from behind her clear framed glasses. “I want us to get you out of that hotel, and I don’t want us to be in public longer than we have to.”
“Yeah we’re goin’ ta leave ya’s to it. I’m feeling weird just waitin’ for someone to put a bag over my head.” Katie pushed her sunglasses back up her nose, looking around like she wanted a fight.
“I can help you pack if you need?” Jordan suggested.
“Oh yeah, Dory! You can come over if you want? I’d love to spend some time with you before you leave tomorrow..” YFN looked over her shoulder at Lucy who nodded at her friend, looking a little on edge. “It’s settled. Come with us.” YFN smiled and took Jordan’s hand.
They said their goodbyes and hugged. YFN again thanked Katie and Caitlin for last night, checking that Katie’s hand was okay after trying to break the window of the car. They had a good giggle at that. She promised to get back to them about the strangely vague position of interviewing players, and they both again showed their enthusiasm.
Lucy practically bodyguarded YFN the entire way to the car where YFN encouraged Jordan to sit in the front. She sat behind Lucy who had one of her arms behind her, fingers tangled with YFN’s. She liked needy Lucy. She liked all of the Lucy’s to be honest.
They went to YFN’s hotel and Lucy spoke to the staff to check her out early while Jordan and YFN packed. Somehow, Lucy was able to get her a refund for the nights she didn’t stay, and then they were in Lucy’s car and headed to her London home.
YFN felt strange unpacking. She was technically moving in with her partner… whom she hadn’t known for long.. who also lived in Spain. She felt a little like she was pushing herself onto Lucy too fast, but at the same time, all of it was at Lucy's request. Her insistence. And, it had been one of her three demands.
Jordan and YFN spent time together unpacking, researching and bantering while Lucy was on the phone, pacing. She was talking to lawyers, discussing Visa’s and restraining orders. She was frustrated but would pause past YFN often to touch her, give her a kiss wherever she could reach, or just wave from the patio. She didn’t like the idea that she was putting so much extra stress on Lucy when she should have been resting and recovering her knee, but she also knew that this was Lucy’s choice. She was so sexy the way she took care of things. YFN watched her pace the patio, talking on the phone with her AirPods and expressing so much with her hands, the artery in her neck becoming more prominent when she got more frustrated demanding things. The efforts that woman was going through just to keep her safe and in the country was more than anyone had ever done for her in her life.
She spoke to Jordan about Leah who’d dropped the drunk trio home last night, and who’d apparently dropped Jordan home last.
Jordan sighed. “Leah tried talking to me.. she asked how I was doing and how things are at Villa but I just wasn’t in a state to talk. I couldn’t get out of my head the idea of people following you and Luce…”
“So you pretty much blew her off..?”
“Yeah.. pretty much. I didn’t have the capacity to talk. She left me. She didn’t even give me a reason, she just said that she changed and I hadn’t and… and she left. I tried to talk to her, you know I tried, but in the end I left my club for her. The club I spent most of my career at.” She was getting teary eyed and YFN moved next to her and wrapped her arms around her. Jordan leaned into her and sobbed a little.
“You still love her,” YFN said softly. Jordan nodded against her. “Oh Dory..”
She leant over to get some tissues and blew into them. “I can’t just let her back into my life after that. She… she can’t just do that. I don’t even know if she misses me as a friend or as a girlfriend but she lost both.”
“I… I think it’s both.”
Jordan lifted her head to look at her. She continued. “The way she looked at you and spoke about you when you weren’t watching.. especially with that girl at the bar. And she thought we were together…”
She could see the thoughts running behind Jordan’s eyes before she shook her head. “No, she doesn’t get that from me anymore. She did this. She made this mess.”
“She did, she absolutely did. Let’s just bench it for now and take it as it comes, okay? I’m right here for whatever you need.”
“I’m so happy you’re coming to Birmingham,” Jordan said with a tremble in her voice.
“Me too, mate. Me too. We’re going to have so much fun!”
Jordan’s mood picked up as they changed topics and kept researching. They found a lot of good news and information that had them positive about the outcome the next day.
“Oh this looks promising,” Jordan said. “It’s talking about a character reference who’s known you for at least ten years? Not related to you though..”
YFN laughed. “Ohh I have just the person.” She took her phone out and scrolled through her contacts. “Ridley. We grew up together.”
“I thought you didn’t have a best, best friend?”
“She’s basically family and… an acquired taste.” She laughed again. “God, I love her. We go through periods of not talking for 6 months and then talking every day, but that’s just us. She’s the closest person I have from Australia besides my nan. She actually works in Spain, it was one of the reasons I was going to visit, to see her!”
She called her up and a drunk Ridley answered, music blasting in the background. “Hey baby Blue, what’s doing?”
“Hey Riddles, you busy?”
“Nah, never too busy for you. When are you coming to Greece?”
“Are you still partying?”
“You know it baby! Way too many hot Europeans here.” She started talking to someone near her. ‘In a minute, love, just get us some more drinks.’
YFN laughed. “I can call back…”
“Bullshit, they can wait. What’s up?” She changed to Facetime, and it was exactly what it sounded like. Some sort of party at night in Greece, people crowded around. She had a bottle in one hand and some colour sunglasses on which she look like she stole, covered in several beaded and glow in the dark necklaces.
“Having a good night?”
“You know me mate - always.” She said with a grin as someone bumped into her. ‘Watch it!’ She yelled at them.
 ‘Doesn’t cost anything to be kind!’
‘Costs me my fucking sanity, move your big ass feet away from me.’
She turned back to the phone and took the cap off the bottle with her teeth, spitting it and taking a swig. “I’m just about to throw hands, Blue, I swear.”
YFN and Jordan laughed. “Blue?” Jordan asked.
Before YFN could answer, Ridley noticed her and got closer to the screen with a smirk. “Oh, hey there Jordan Nobbs, you’re looking sexy tonight.”
YFN groaned. “She flirts with everyone, don't be surprised.”
Jordan laughed and answered politely. “Hey mate, nice to meet you! Where was our invite?”
“Oh baby, you’re free to join me aaanytime.”
Jordan’s mouth dropped and YFN groaned, knowing this would happen. “Anyways! Riddles, you know the stalker issue?”
“Oh yeah, you need me to come sort them out?”
“Oh, Lucy’s all over that. No, they put a complaint in about my Visa so I’m headed to the embassy tomorrow. I need a character reference who’s known me at least ten years-”
“-say no more, baby Blue, I’ve got you.” The girl reappeared and was grabbing at Ridley’s face, kissing her cheek. Ridley pulled away, her attention still on her close friend.
“…Yes… but will you be awake tomorrow around 10am your time?”
She hummed and then agreed to set her alarm. Anyone who didn’t know her would think she wasn’t reliable for this, but she knew Ridley and knew she could trust her with anything, anytime. She was incredibly loyal, and the distance between Spain and Australia had meant they’d spoken less which wasn’t what she’d ever wanted with their relationship. But regardless, they were always the type of friends who could call each other up after 6 months and everything was the exact same between them.
Ridley was still flirting with Jordan when the girl from earlier again tried to drag her off the call. Jordan was flirting back, enjoying the attention and YFN made sure to end the call before she saw the girl’s tongue down her throat.
“An acquired taste, I told you. She’s one of my favourite people though. She’s basically family to me.” She laughed.
YFN and Jordan made them dinner while Lucy was still off and on the phone. They ate and then Lucy took Jordan home with hugs and promises that they’d see each other soon in Birmingham. YFN ‘requested’ a shirt with Jordan’s name and number on it. She wanted to wear it to her first Villa game. Jordan was excited that she wanted to wear her shirt, and promised to sign it for her.
Lucy returned to the dishes done, and a squeaky clean YFN who was ready for bed. She looked tired and threw her AirPods and phone onto the couch before taking YFN in her arms. She was so warm and soft and felt like… home. Home had never been place to Lucy. It had always been either her family or wherever she made it with a club. She and YFN hadn’t known each other long but the best way to describe their relationship was that she’d always felt like home to Lucy. For the first time in her life, home felt like a person. The thought of Spain in the back of her mind was a dark thought that she tried to keep back there. She groaned and hugged her little Australian tighter.
“Luce?” She said softly. Lucy pulled back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for today. Thank you for looking after me… I know it’s been a lot to deal with.”
Lucy’s eyebrows furrowed. “This is all on me, all this happening has been because of me and I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. I just….” She paused as she tried to keep her emotions together. “… I really don’t want to lose you.” Her voice was husky as her emotions seeped through.
YFN took her face in her hands. “Luce, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, as long as you want me. I need you to know that.”
She was right, Lucy did need those words. A tear slipped out and YFN wiped it away from under her glasses.
“I still want our dates though, regardless of what happens. I’ve planned one for us tomorrow after the… you know. And then the next date-”
“-is all me.” Lucy cut off. “I’ll plan the third.”
“Okay.. but I need to talk to you about… amending one of the deals we made.”
Lucy’s head tilted in question.
“We’re not sure what’s going to happen. We’re not sure what tomorrow will bring. I want to spend every night with you like it’s our last because we deserve that. Regardless of if I’m sent away tomorrow, or in a week, or when you go to Spain…”
As if to prove her point, she pulled Lucy closer, walking backwards until her back was against the wall, Lucy pressed up against her. Lucy couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her. It was soft and gentle, full of emotion. YFN’s hand found its way to the back of her head and tucked itself into the strands of dark brown hair, using that as leverage to be able to tilt her head and control the kiss a little. They let themselves enjoy it until they could feel each other getting excited, their bodies beginning to move like they wanted more. Lucy pulled back unwillingly, their mouths still close.
“Little one, are you asking me for sex?” She couldn’t help the soft chuckle building up in her throat.
YFN looked up at Lucy a little guilty, her lips pressed together, dimple on full display. “I want all of you. I don’t want to have to wait.”
“Are you… okay after last night?”
She nodded. “That’s part of it, I think. I feel like I lost control of myself at the bar, and I just need… I need to feel like I’m in control of my body again. This is my life, these are my choices, and no one can take them away. And I’ll always choose you..”
Her palms were flat on Lucy’s abs, her body shaking as she rocked, feeling the strap slide in and out with a silky wetness that only Lucy could make her body produce. Lucy’s hands were on her hips, guiding her as she fucked herself while Lucy looked up at her like she was Aphrodite herself. YFN leant forward over Lucy and started taking the strap that way, moaning at the different angle, the wet fucking sound changing notes. Lucy was caught by surprise at the new angle she took so deep and needily. Her rhythm was so ruthless and the new position felt so good on her clit that Lucy knew she’d orgasm soon. Her hands tightened on her hips, her own hips thrusting up to meet hers. Lucy’s back arched and her head bowed back.
“Oh…ffffuck. That’s th…the spot. Fuck. I can’t… I can’t keep.. God I’m going to come.”
This only encouraged YFN who’s pace increased slightly, her hands either side of her head, looking down at her whimpering Lucy. She took her right to the edge, knowing just how well the strap was riding her clit and just before she came, she sat back upright and changed her approach. Lucy came back to life, whimpering at the orgasm she was just denied.
“Little one… I… I was…”
“I know,” YFN panted, her hands again on Lucy’s abs as she rode her. “I know.. just let me get a little closer first and we can finish it together, Luce… argh… just…fuck…just give me a minute. It’ll feel so much better n…now that you’re frustrated.”
Lucy’s hands on her hips encouraged her some more, almost fully picking her up and slamming her back down again. Her hips eagerly thrusted upwards, as deep as she could go. Her little Australian was riding her so well and god, she was a sight. Hair down and well messed by Lucy’s hands during their sex, mouth still wet from the taste of Lucy, her lips swollen and bruised. Her tits were bouncing and excited, nipples out and well sucked. Lucy pulled herself up and grabbed a nipple in her mouth, eagerly sucking the sensitive bud. YFN whimpered and grabbed her hair, holding her head to her tit while she sucked. And god, she sucked. And licked. And nibbled. When she was finished with the first, she moved onto the second and when YFN couldn’t bare it any longer, she pulled Lucy’s head back, making her groan in annoyance as her lips were forced to part with her nipple with a wet popping sound. YFN’s mouth found Lucy’s jaw and with one hand in her hair, she pulled back to give her access to that sharp jawline and strong neck. She nibbled and kissed along those areas that took up so much of her daily thoughts all the while continuously riding her in desperation and need. She knew Lucy wasn’t used to being in a situation like this, but her Englishwoman was taking it so well. Her hands moved from her hips to slide up YFN’s back, pressing her close as she moaned at the feel of her mouth on her throat. Their panting and moaning and swearing were filling the room along with the humidity from their sweaty bodies sliding against each other.
It was taking YFN a little longer than usual being her fifth orgasm of the night, but god, she was getting there. Her rhythm increased to more of a bounce, encouraged by Lucy’s thrusts upwards meeting hers.
“Fuck, you’re doing so well. You look so good, my love.” YFN pulled her mouth away from her neck and looked down at Lucy with hooded eyes. It’s the first time Lucy had ever called her that. She pushed Lucy onto her back again and pressed her hands into her tense abs to help her slide up and down the strap with a depth that she just couldn’t get any other way. The sound of fucking resonated the room, drowned out by their gasps and moans and whimpers. She could feel her wet excitement dripping down the insides of her thighs and undoubtably coating Lucy also. As she was about to come, she leant forwards again to her previous position, hands either side of Lucy’s head and she rode her until Lucy was so wound up that she couldn’t breath.
“Fuck….fuck…fuck…little one…y…yes… oh God….” Lucy had never not been in control of her orgasm and she didn’t realise, but it just made it so much more intense.
YFN leant down and swallowed her moans with her mouth, their tongues meeting. “Come with me, Luce…. Come… come with me…”
They came so hard and tight that they could barely move. A cry ripped from Lucy’s throat and YFN could barely continue to ride the strap as she was so clenched around it. Lucy shoved her up and down on it, needing that bit of friction on her clit to drag out her orgasm, knowing that YFN needed the same. They rocked until they came down, their movements slowing and relaxing.
YFN wasn’t an athlete like Lucy, but she’d just put in a hell of a workout. Her body was tingly and drained from her fifth orgasm, and she just wanted Lucy to hold her and kiss her to sleep. She managed to lift herself up off the strap and Lucy unharnessed, throwing it to the floor and pulling YFN down onto her. YFN laid her full body weight on her, head in her neck.
“You did so good, little one. So, so good.”
“I… I really like you Luce. My body just wants you again and again and it scares me how much I want you. Not just sex… I want you. All of you. Grumpy, happy, protective... sleepy.” She admitted huskily with a yawn into Lucy’s neck, and Lucy wondered if she were sleep talking.
Lucy hummed happily, her fingers tracing up and down her spine, finding those little back dimples at the bottom. “However much you want me, just know, I want you more. I’ll always keep you safe. I’ll always be right here.”
She knew she was speaking to herself as YFN was already asleep, her breathing had changed and her body was fully relaxed onto her. She pressed a kiss to her forehead and was similarly out like a light.
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spnhunter4life · 1 year
Text
Familiar
Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.
Word Count: 8.2k
Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence
A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!
This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"
I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.
Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!
Masterlist
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I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.
After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.
So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.
I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.
Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another. 
Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.
I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards. 
When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often. 
Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.
He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since. 
About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.
“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.
We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.
“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found. 
“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.
“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered. 
“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.
“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”
“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”
“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.
“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”
“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.
“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.
“Bite me,” Sam answered.
“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.
The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.
“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.
“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked. 
“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise. 
“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.
“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.
“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”
“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”
“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.
“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”
“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”
“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.
Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.
~~~~~
The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.
“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.
“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”
“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”
“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.
“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.
“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”
I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.
“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.
“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.
I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening. 
He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-
I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala. 
“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream. 
“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.
Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done. 
“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.
“Connection?” He asked.
“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”
“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.
“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.
“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.
“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”
“Well… never,” he admitted.
“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”
“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.
“I was told they were,” I said. 
“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”
Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.
“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.
“What for?” He asked.
“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence? 
Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man. 
“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.
“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”
Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.
“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”
“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.
“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.
“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.
“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer. 
I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in. 
“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.
“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.
“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.
“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.
“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.
“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.
“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.
“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”
“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.
“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”
“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”
“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”
“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.
“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.
“How?”
“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”
“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.
“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”
The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.
~~~~~
Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated. 
“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.
“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”
“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”
“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.
“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected. 
“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.
“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”
“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested. 
“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later. 
Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.
“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.
We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.
Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.
“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.
The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.
The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.
Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.
I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first. 
After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.
“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”
“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.
“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again. 
“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”
“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.
“Hey, Sam. What did you find?” 
“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently. 
“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.
~~~~~
Sam’s POV
“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.
“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.
“Like what?” 
“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”
“So?”
“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”
“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.
“Why? Aren’t you together?”
“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”
“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.
“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”
Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.
“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.
~~~~~
Y/N’s POV
The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.
My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?
“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.
I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.
“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.
“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.
“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”
Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.
“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”
“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.
I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.
“He brought me in here?” I asked.
“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.
“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.
I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated. 
I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.
“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. 
“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.
“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.
“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”
He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.
“What gave me away?” He asked casually.
“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times. 
“Like?” 
“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.
“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.
I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”
My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly. 
He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.
“Where is Dean?” I demanded.
“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?
“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”
“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”
I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.
“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”
“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”
His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.
“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.
“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.” 
I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly. 
“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.” 
I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.
“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.
“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”
“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.
He smiled and kept ignoring me.
“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”
“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.
“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.
“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head. 
“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”
I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder? 
I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.
“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”
“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”
“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”
I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to. 
“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”
“Right before you kill me, you mean?”
“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.
“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.
I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.
I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.
The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.
“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.
“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.
“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”
Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.
“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”
“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.
“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.
“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.
“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.
“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.
“Was?” Sam questioned.
“It’s dead,” I said.
“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”
“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.
“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”
“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.
“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”
“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.
Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.
Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.
“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.
“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”
“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.
“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.
“Why?” I wondered.
“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.
“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”
I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.
~~~~~
An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.
“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”
“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.
“He told you?” He asked, surprised.
“In way too much detail,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment.
“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?” 
“The what?” I asked.
“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”
My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.
“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.” 
Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.
“Y/N… he didn’t?”
“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”
Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.
“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“So why did he go after you?”
I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.
“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”
“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.
“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.
“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”
I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.
“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion. 
I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.
“Y/N.”
More silence.
“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.
“You know you’re not,” I told him.
“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.
“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”
“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”
“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.
“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”
“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.
“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”
“That’s all I ask.”
After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.
Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.
“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.
“A little better,” I told him. 
“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”
He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me. 
“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face. 
“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”
“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.
Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.
A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.
Chapter 2
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@123passwort
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haesunflower · 1 year
Text
why you break up with zb1
genre: breakup, angst
pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone
about/tags: the reasons why you break up with zb1 (non-idol related)
in this universe not all of them are idols, yujin is not here because I don't write romance/angst for minors, mentions of sexuality, cheating, cursing, blood/injury, and fighting; lowercase intentional
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⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀
because you got your dream job in another country
and you're at a point where if you're not dating for marriage, then why are you dating at all?
his career is in korea, and like you, he can't give his dream up
so you both decide to let each other go instead
when you texted him "jiwoong, I got the job" he already knew what was coming. and later that night, when he asks for a proper conversation, you almost don't want to have it. you've already discussed it once before, the hypotheticals – when faced with choosing between love and your dreams, you both agreed that you'd have to yield one. he doesn't want to have this conversation either, but it's the responsible thing to do.
it ends with tears in his eyes, and choked sobs as he consoles you. he strokes your hair as your tears stain his shirt, and his heart breaks at the sounds of your cries. but he can't do anything. because this is what's decidedly best for both of you.
⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀
because his parents don't think you're good enough for him
and while he wants to fight for you
you can't watch him break his family apart just so he can squeeze you in it
"just let me speak to them, please." hao is begging you with his eyes, and you have half the mind to let him. but it's been almost 3 years, and his family had no shame when it came to showing their disdain towards you. such as today, when you both show up to his cousin's wedding and his mother introduces him to a beautiful girl, one who his family accepts – and quote "you two should get to know each other better, you'd make a wonderful pair." his mother says this brazenly right as you stand next to hao, his arms tightening around your waist.
so when you say "i'm tired of seeking approval, hao. can you honestly give your family up for me?" – he can't respond. he's frozen, and although he thinks he's ready to choose you; you prove to him that you know him better
"i didn't think so. goodbye, hao."
⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀
because he cheats on you emotionally
you've been suspicious for a while, when he started to become less than perfect for you: missing your dates, forgetting to text or call you, saying another person's name in his sleep
and you want to remain in denial, but you hate that you are proven correctly when you see the texts on his phone
"how long have you been seeing them?" hanbin stops in his tracks, and his eyes travel to his phone in your hands. he can't even be mad, he's knows he’s in the wrong, he should have told you when he was beginning to feel confused - over the person he loves and the person he’s beginning to love. so he doesn't know where to begin, how to explain, or what to tell you when you ask him "so for them, you'd move mountains. but for me, you won't even show up?"
"can you let me explain, y/n?" he can barely get the words out as he rushes over to you, attempting to reach out to your face. you step back from him when you say “don't you dare touch me”. there's venom to your words, and hurt in your eyes. you've never looked at him like that before.
"just, get out. hanbin."
⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀
because you're toxic for each other
you constantly fight, using weaknesses and past mistakes against each other
but you're both too proud to say sorry
so you end up arguing about the same things, over, and over again
you couldn't have a relationship like this, you both knew that. it's the same as last week, he's somehow blaming you for the unpaid bills, and you guilt trip him for choosing his passions over financial stability. so you couldn't help yourself when you screamed at him. he yelled back, and stormed out of your shared apartment.
when he comes back, he finds you packing your things, "this isn't working anymore, i'm tired and all we do is argue everyday". unlike earlier, there's no more anger in your voice, just defeat.
so the first time you both apologize to each other, is also the last time you are able to. "i'm sorry for everything i said, y/n".
"i know matt, i'm sorry too." he stops your hands from moving, and forces you into a hug. you melt, allowing yourselves to embrace each other tightly one last time.
⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀
because you have inconsolable differences
he wants to marry you and start a family, but you just don't see yourself living that life – no matter how much you love him, you can't give him what he wants
when you break up, you realize you're better off as friends than lovers
there are tears in your eyes as you watch taerae kiss his new partner "i do". only happy tears, you hope. you watch them take the first dance at the reception, and you listen to him as he sings to them the song he composed just for the wedding. you think that you're a little bit jealous, because that song could have easily been for you. but as you watch taerae smile brightly, looking at his partner with stars in his eyes – you know that you and him were just not meant to be.
towards the end of the night when you're sitting alone at the bar, taerae finds himself next to you. you decide to lead with one simple question "are you happy, taerae?"
"the happiest."
"good". you clink your whiskey glasses together, and enjoy the drink like old friends.
⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀
because he can't get his act together
he's getting into fights with other people, gambling, making dangerous deals, and getting himself into extreme situations that you can't handle
and you have always been there to bandage him right up
but you're done trying to make this one-sided relationship work
"don't give me that fucking look, y/n". ricky tells you as he comes home, drunk, with a bleeding nose and a bruised lip. you're wiping at the blood on his face a little less than gently, hoping it's painful for him.
“then do it yourself then, i’m done cleaning up for your sorry ass.” he's not surprised that you're complaining, he's actually wondering what has taken you so long to get this fed up. so he challenges you, pushing to see just how far gone you are "then why are you still here?"
you were hoping he'd apologize, that he'd come to his senses. but you should have known better. you don't have any energy to retort with something crueler, “fuck you, ricky. enjoy life alone." you go to your room, locking it – fully knowing he'll be gone by the morning.
⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀
because you just fell out of love
ever since you were kids, loving each other was all you've both ever known
but you both grew up, you're both different people now, and it just happened.
“look at us. is this how we were supposed to end?” he asks you. you don't respond for a while before you take his hand in yours, interlocking fingers and holding him tightly. scared he'll slip away from you physically, as you are emotionally. both of you are crying, sat under the tree where you had your first kiss.
but just like that, you were over. it takes a while to start talking to each other again, but it helps that you're both moving to different colleges. gyuvin locks away all your memories together in a box under his bed, grateful to have been able to love you. you on the other hand, cry into your pillow from time to time – mourning the people you both were, and the love that you shared.
⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀
because he's too insecure to be in a relationship
that he ends up as an extremely jealous and overbearing partner
what was once cute assurance, has become a task
and you'd much rather have him work on himself first
"i don't like the way he looked at you" gunwook admits to you. you don't know what else you can say or do to make him stop worrying. he's already with you everywhere, and you love him, god you love him so much, but it's tiring. it's tiring to have to accommodate him and assure him all the time.
you sigh loudly, because you've had similar conversations for the nth time that week. he's a little sad when you say you think you both need time apart. but you say it so sweetly, cupping his cheek and using your thumb to rub his jaw. instead, he puts his head down and bites his lip, basking in your comfort. he knew his jealousy would push you away eventually, but he couldn't help himself.
he nods, and promises to come back to you as a better person.
-- --- --- ---
A/N: serving up a huge heaping of angst, my specialty!
thank you to my friend alexis, co-delulu, for helping me flesh this out
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sunnychr1stie · 6 days
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Meeting at the hotel
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Gwendoline Christie X Reader:
(you're a middle-class person but you sometimes travel to many countries because of your father's work, you often stay in luxury hotels paid by your dad's business.)
A/N: I'm sorry if this is very badly written but it's the first time I've written this sort of thing. I have the impression that this is really badly written, tell me what you think about it. I'm sorry if there are errors, English is not my main language.
Warning: Age grap (Y/N is over 18), Smut.
Late for dinner with your father and some of his colleagues, you rush into the hallway of this expanding hotel. When you arrive in front of the elevator, you click on the button located on your left. The doors open, you meet the famous actress, Gwendoline Christie. After a few moments of silence, you enter the elevator by saying a light 'good evening' to the actress in front of you and pressing onto the floor where you are going. Gwendoline clearly noticed that you are middle class because of your'standard' outfit for a hotel like this one. It seems that the journey lasted an eternity, but it only lasted a minute. The elevator arrives on your floor, you start going out before you turn to the actress and give her a tender smile. "Goodbye," you say gently before leaving and joining your father and his colleagues.
After dinner, your father and his colleagues chose to go to the hotel bar and you followed them without hesitation. Sit down, you listen to your father and his colleagues exchanging about their work. You choose to get up and go to the store to buy a glass of alcohol, these work stories have made you a little exhausted. Arriving in front of the bar and ordering an apple vodka, you blow and look around when you notice Gwendoline Christie approaching the bar. You're stuck like when you saw her in that elevator. When he hears her order for a glass of whiskey, you turn to her.
"Are you the girl in the elevator?" She said. At least she didn't forget your face, even though you met a few hours ago. "Yes, it's me!" You answer with a smile. You didn't expect this actress, a famous actress around the world, to talk to you. You think you're an ordinary young woman that nobody notices. The famous actress observes you with a beautiful smile hanging on her red lips, you are lost and the woman decides to start the conversation.
For about an hour, you discuss various topics, including yourself. You didn't want to be the weird fan, so you didn’t pay much attention to his work. During this hour, your approach has increased slightly, the atmosphere has even become a little ambiguous and hot. She's approaching you and whispering to you. "I hope this evening doesn't end."She said. it is likely that alcohol was the source of her words, but thinking about it, she did not drink much, suggesting that she knew what she was doing. In fact, you are delighted to be able to enjoy a moment with her because you will probably never find her after that evening. You tell her your wish that this evening is not over, and it was at that moment that she asked you to follow her. Of course, you do not refuse without knowing what will happen when you leave the bar. You have chosen to warn your father, who is still in the bar. After crossing the hotel in the company of this actress who gives you a feeling of warmth, you arrive in front of a room. Gwendoline opens the door and invites you to go, which you do almost instantly. Soon after you're both alone in this room, lips lay on yours. You did not refuse a passionate and hot kiss, on the contrary, you preferred to extend it by holding the big woman's hips tightly, while she puts one of her hands on your cheek and the other on your lower back.
Finally, the lack of oxygen takes you away, you both take your breath before starting another kiss, this makes you feel a feeling of warmth between your legs. The imposing woman emanates from an aura of domination, making you feel a great submission to her. The young woman leads you to the big bed that is in the room, she lets you fall on the bed before getting up on your knees. The actress's eyes are immersed in yours, your hands lie gently on the actress's thighs, which makes you feel an even greater submission. His smile clings to your neck by sucking your sensitive area and leaving some red spots. She moves her hands towards your shirt and begins to remove the buttons. The blonde woman moves her kisses to your chest while leaving lipstick on your body. A simple gesture allows you to drop your shirt and bra on the floor. Gwendoline moves toward your left nipple and starts caressing with her tongue your bud that is starting to harden. His right hand touches your right nipple, causing gimmicks to invade the room. "Gwendoline, please..." you yelled. The blonde raises her head and says to you, "What do you want, my sweet girl?" she asks gently in a sensual tone. "You..." you answer with a gem to his voice, your hips moving on their own.
After hearing your words, the great woman continues her way by gently removing your pants, leaving the rest of your clothes on the ground. The hot kisses she deposits on your thighs increase the deterioration of your pants due to the moisture between your hips. Gwendoline fixes your face, then removes your underwear and throws it with the rest of your clothes. She looks at you as if she wanted to ask for your approval, you shake your head to say yes, she plunges her tongue into your folds and surrounds your clitoris. Your gems are becoming more and more intense.Your approach to your orgasm leads to the formation of a node in your stomach, while the blonde's long, thin fingers begin to stimulate your entry before introducing her major and her ring in you. She penetrates without letting her tongue escape from your clitoris, her movements accelerate and your gems intensify, you feel your orgasm approaching quickly. "cum for me," said Gwendoline before putting her tongue back on your clitoris, it's the phrase that makes you completely upset. You cum the actress' fingers, which gives you some extra push to help you get down from your top until you stop completely. After removing her fingers from your heart, she returns to you and gives you a kiss on your lips, letting you taste and gem.
She then stands up and goes to the bathroom, while you're still lying on the bed breathing. The actress comes back with a water-blowing towel and she cleans you before going back to the bathroom. She turns toward you and settles in the bed next to you. Your head rests on her chest and you're blinking against her. "Stay please" said Gwendoline. You bend your head and you stay still. You finally fall asleep with this actress by your side.
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mmyrrhh · 1 year
Text
Eyes on the road
Summary: A car ride with your favourite lieutenant.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader
Word Count: 648
Notes:
Fluff
Mr. Riley strikes me as the kind of person who will listen to country music while driving and tapping the steering wheel rhythmically in the process.
My sideblog got shadowbanned so I’ll be posting my fics here until the issue gets resolved (if it gets resolved).
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You’ve been driving for two hours straight, and the silence between you grows longer as the miles pass. Despite your efforts to engage him in conversation, he appears content to remain silent, responding only with brief, cryptic remarks.
“Where are we going?”
“That’s confidential information.”
“How long until we arrive?”
“We’ll get there when we get there.”
Touché.
He was deep in thought, with his right hand steady on the steering wheel and his left arm resting casually on the open window. He had an air of confidence about him, seemingly able to take control of anything that life may throw his way; missions, injuries, cars, you. Oh boy, the power he has over you.
Every time he had to shift gears, he did with such poise and grace, releasing the wheel but securing it with his thigh so it wouldn’t drift away. You watched him every time he did that, anticipating the moment he’d place his hand on you instead.
His mask obscures his face, but you know there is concealed road rage lurking beneath. Now and then, a reckless driver would surpass you, and he would mutter a curse under his breath as his gaze followed the car. Other times, he would instinctively put his hand in front of you, inches away from your chest, acting as a human seatbelt.
Inches away...
The scenery is, well, nothing: an endless expanse of dirt, as far as the eye can see. And with the quiet between you, the boredom begins to set in. You figured a little music would lighten up the mood, maybe even spark a discussion of some sorts. You turn on the radio, shuffling through the stations until you find one that works. You turn up the volume and turn your attention back on the road. Ghost doesn’t comment on your action but has a lot to say about your taste in music.
“It’s shite,” he mutters under his mask.
“It’s the only one that works,” you comment back.
“It’s still sh*t,” he repeats.
“We don’t have any other option, Lieutenant.”
“There’s always another option, soldier,” he explains. “In this case, you could always turn it off.”
Is this an order or a suggestion? Better go with the safe option. You move your hand towards the radio button, but he catches it mid-air, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
“Don’t; let it play if you like it,” he whispers, his eyes still focused on the road, “my preferences should never dictate yours.”
In that moment of unexpected kindness, you turn to look at him.
You become immediately drawn to his profile and begin to examine any characteristic you can distinguish beneath his balaclava.
His brows appear sparse and washed out; is that genetic or permanent damage from a fire? His dark brown eyes are half-closed, emitting a sense of melancholy; that, or he’s tired from all the driving. He suddenly lets out an audible sigh. Your eyes travel to his lips; you can distinguish a faint outline through the stretched fabric. His Adam’s apple moves with vigour every time he swallows. His collarbone, chest, arms, abd-
“Eyes on the road,” he commands. Shit; caught red-handed once again.
You lightly cough in embarrassment and obey. Neither of you speaks.
As you continue driving down the road, he suddenly takes his hand off the wheel and goes straight for the volume button, turning it up.
You turn to look at him in confusion.
“It’s Johnny Cash,” he explains, shrugging.
“Johnny Cash, huh? Any relation to… John Price?” you quip, trying to lighten the mood.
“You and your fucking jokes,” he says with a hint of a chuckle in his voice.
And with that, the silence between you settles once more. But this time, it’s no longer oppressive, no longer boring. It’s a comfortable silence, with Johnny Cash speaking volumes about you and your lieutenant’s silent bond.
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aziraphales-library · 2 months
Note
Hi! I'm very new to reading GO fics and was looking for recs.
I just finished reading "Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach" by Nnm, and it left me on such a fic high I need more. I'd love reading Crowley centered fics with a dash of nutmeg (therapy/emotional introspection), some heart wrenching bits and also a happy ineffable husbands ending. I was wondering if you could point me towards something of the sort?
Thanks in advance, and also thank you for your service to the fandom!
Hello and welcome! If you're new you might want to check out our #fandom favourites tag (of which Demonology and the Tri-Phasic is one). We also have #therapy and #crowley-centric tags, which you may be interested in. Here are some Crowley-centric introspection fics for you that I personally love...
Do You Feel Loved? by mikripetra (T)
Crowley’s smile twists downwards. “So…still in favor of ‘the Great Plan,’ then?” “Exactly!” beams Aziraphale. “She never meant for us to go through with the Apocalypse. She planned it this way from the very Beginning, don’t you see? Everything we’ve done, everything that’s happened- every bit of it was what She intended.” Crowley swallows reflexively. His mouth tastes like ash.
this message is a warning about danger (about love) by darcylindbergh (E)
He knows Aziraphale wonders about it, sometimes. The snake. Crowley’s always careful with it. He’s always careful to make it seem like it should be impressive, to posture and pose and tease; or else he’s careful to make it seem like a joke, to fill it to the brim with bravado and confidence until it’s practically sour on his own tongue, laughing and showing off. He doesn’t ever say that he’s afraid, afterwards, and there’s not really much else to be said.
Sin Pays But Botany Doesn’t by Anonymous (G)
After averting the apocalypse, Crowley is living in his car with a lot of free time on his hands. He posts a YouTube video talking about plants as a joke but finds internet famedom where a punchline should be. Being a YouTube botanist agrees with him, though. He likes talking about plants, and he usually doesn’t find many opportunities to do that outside of YouTube. So, Crowley adopts traveling the world in search of plants to film as a new hobby. Kept in the dark about this new hobby, Aziraphale, who is used to being Crowley’s sole object of attention and is unused to having to compete with anything for Crowley’s time, is curious about where Crowley goes when he’s not in London.
Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)
Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much? That is the question.
I Only Have Eyes For You by Twilightcitysky (M)
After narrowly escaping execution, Aziraphale and Crowley want to fly under the radar for a while. Worried that performing miracles will reveal their location to their former bosses, they relocate to the country and stop using their powers. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is ready to start moving faster... and Crowley has a secret. Can he keep Aziraphale from realizing what's changed while juggling moving trucks, furniture assembly, inquisitive mediums, attacks of Feng Shui, and the mortifying ordeal of grocery shopping? A fic about moving in together, finding yourself, and finding one another.
- Mod D
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annavrse · 11 months
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letitia is the type of girlfriend…headcanons
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ー letitia wright x black!reader
ー no smut of course, no sexual content whatsoever, all fluff, a little drama, tish being protective, tish being in love
summary : what it’d be like to date letitia wright. headcanons + small plot
even though the media tries to portray her as a player, tish is definitely a lovergirl at heart.
ー☆ this is very interactive! i’ve included links, photos, and a video! click and watch as you read along. the links are optional but i think it adds to the reading experience. it’s more entertaining cus it’s actual proof of tish doing these things lol.
ー☆ note : i still have that twin fic in a ziplock bag. (truth be told im writing another fic that’s got a real bad hold on me and might come out first) i just wanted to give y’all something while you wait! i had so much fun writing this. don’t take this too seriously or let it determine my true writing abilities. i haven’t given y’all anything to go off of, but trust that i am at least a decent writer and that these hcs are just for fun!
also im sorry for any typos or mistakes i didn’t catch. i hope you enjoy <33
tags : @venusdraco @naomis-daydream @marsolgy @shurislover @inmyheadimobsessed @dominiquesheart @stvrrversee ☆ just tagging some of my mutuals until i create a taglist!
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• her love languages are gift giving, words of affirmation, physical touch and quality time.
• she bought the two of you matching bracelets. she has a habit of playing with hers during interviews and she sometimes kisses it when you’re not with her.
• she buys you flowers of your favorite color so it feels more personal.
• always reassuring and reminding you how much she loves you.
“i prayed for you”
“i love you so much”
“you mean the world to me”
• you’re her personal travel buddy. whether it’s for work or leisure, she takes you everywhere she goes.
• she takes you to court side basketball games.
• you’re always her plus one at events. especially award shows. you reassure her when she loses, and you’re the first one she hugs when she wins.
• loves when you visit her on set.
• loves going to concerts with you.
• she loves taking you to her home country, guyana. and where she grew up in london.
• she thinks it’s cute when you mock her british accent. she does the same with your american one.
• she calls you baby and babygirl.
• she loves it when you call her by her middle name.
• loves to dance with you at parties and she especially loves it when you dance on her.
• she never tells you about the movies or the shows she’s filming. no matter how much you want her to.
“the suspense is killing me.”
“well if i spoil it for you, you’ll kill me. so stop asking.” she said, laughing. “you’ll have to wait just like everybody else.”
“but im not like everybody else.”
“that you are not.” she grabbed your chin and pecked your lips.
“pleaseeee just give me a little something. nothing too important.”
“you’re the one who made me promise not to tell you anything, even if you beg.”
“i know but-”
she walked away from you, shaking her head.
“your words not mine.” she yelled over her shoulder.
“michelleeee.” you whined, chasing after her.
• she’s such a cliche when it comes to romance. she likes taking long walks on the beach, especially when the sun is setting. she likes candlelit dinners. she makes you breakfast in bed. you feel like you’re living in a rom com.
• you’re not use to the huge crowds and people following your every move. she knows that this makes you anxious and does everything in her power to make sure that you feel as comfortable as possible with this new life she’s brought you into.
• if you want to leave an event or a party, she escorts you herself if she can. if not, she has her driver bring you home or back to the hotel.
“i don’t wanna leave you though.”
“it’s okay, im fine. seriously if you’re not feeling it, i can bring you home. i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable for my benefit.”
• most of the time she ends staying with you. you two undress, shower, throw on your pajamas and fall asleep watching a movie. she’d much rather lie in bed with you, than mingle at a party you’re not attending.
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social media
•she’s your designated photographer. she takes most, if not all of your photos for social media. and she makes sure to get her pic creds in the comments.
• she’s you’re loudest supporter. her fandom has nicknamed her instagram “y/n’s fan account” she posts you more than she does herself. especially on her story. with captions like :
“😩😩😩”
“wow”
“😍😍😍”
“all mine” with the song playing in the background
“she’s insaneee”
“mannn😮‍💨”
• she even has a highlight for you, titled “LOVE ❤️”
• always posts your accomplishments. “so proud of this one 🥹”
• you’re slowly gaining fame/attention from being her girlfriend. some of her fans have started making edits of you, and you two together. you sometimes catch her binge watching them on tiktok. her search bar is full of :
- y/n and letitia
- y/n edits
- y/n y/l/n
- letitia wrights’s girlfriend
she’s hopeless.
• but unfortunately, not all of her fans are okay with your relationship. after you two launched as a couple, you received a ton of hate. it went as far as receiving death threats from jealous fans. she quickly took the situation to social media.
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and of course the shaderoom got a hold of it.
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theshaderoom : #LetitiaWright defends girlfriend #Y/N from internet trolls who have been sending her “hateful messages and death threats” 🫢
user : it sounded like she’s threatening us 😭💀
user : she said she’ll whoop y’all ass behind her girlfriend in the nicest way possible lmaooo
user : it’s the “im telling you” for me 😮‍💨
user : why can’t y’all just let this woman be happy and leave her gf tf alone 🤦🏾‍♀️
user : not her threatening y’all 🫣
user : oh she don’t play bout ha 🗣️🗣️🗣️
• she went as far as offering you your own personal bodyguard. in which you declined. you felt like it was unnecessary. though you appreciated the offer and how much she cares.
after her post, the hate started to die down. some of the trolls even apologized to you for the things they’ve said. but you ended up blocking them anyway because why send hate in the first place?
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interviews
• she always finds a way to bring you into the topic of conversation.
interviewer : filming this movie must’ve took a lot out of you. the hours. the training. the stunts. and i mean the storyline itself is darker than what we normally see you do. what made you take on this role?
letitia : ooo. wow, that is a great question. uhmm. i mean…yea this role was something i never would’ve imagined myself playing. like when i was offered to be apart of this film, my immediate response was “no, absolutely not.” but my girlfriend, y/n, she reminded me that i needed to stop playing it safe. i tend to stay in my comfort zone because i know that it works best for me and it’s what im used to. but me and her talked about this year being the year of trying new things. so if it wasn’t for her, i mean…i probably wouldn’t have accepted the role and uh i would’ve missed out on being apart of this amazing film. so it’s all thanks to her. she’s my number one supporter.
interviewer : wow. that’s beautiful. i’m happy that you found someone who pushes you to be your best self.
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interviewer : recently you’ve been rocking some new looks, that i myself am a huge fan of. where are you getting your style inspiration?
letitia : oof i was afraid someone was going to ask me this question.
interviewer : what, why? you’re not ready to give up your source?
letitia : yea i just wanna gatekeep her a little longer—nah im joking uhm, i just don’t have time to hear her mouth ya know? her head is big enough as it is and if tell the world that she’s behind these fits, my god, i’d never hear the end of it.
interviewer : oou is it a snooty designer or—or a bougie stylist of some sort?
letitia : oh she’s definitely a bougie stylist. uhm it’s y/n, my girlfriend.
interviewer : oh reallyyy?
letitia : yeaa, i don’t know what it is. it’s just something about about her closet man. i just find myself going through her things and taking pieces here and there. and she thinks it’s cute cause apparently im *air quotes* “jocking her style”
interviewer : that’s hilarious. so she doesn’t mind you wearing her clothes?
letitia : no not at all. she actually dressed me today. oou im just feeding her ego aren’t i? but yea she has, in my opinion, the best fashion sense. but of course, im biased so—uhm yea i just love her style and i love her.
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interviewer : i heard you mention that you and your girlfriend made some vision boards to ring in the new year.
letitia : yea we did.
interviewer : what is the number one goal on that list?
interviewer : ooouu look at you over there blushing. wow, that’s so exciting. is this something that you two have talked about?
letitia : yea we’ve uhm, we’ve been talking about our future and building a life together. ya know, marriage, kids—the whole thing. i think we’re both ready to start heading in that direction. it’s one of my top priorities right now.
interviewer : wow that’s amazing. i am so happy for you two. is it safe to say that the next time you come on the show, you might be engaged?
letitia : that’s crazy to even think about. but uhm yea, yea that’s the plan.
interviewer : and who knows, maybe you’ll even have a little one on the way. a mini letitia running around. you ready for that?
letitia : ooh absolutely. the real question is, is y/n ready? cus i was a little troublemaker when i was younger. so he or she will definitely be a handful. i just know it. we’ll need her mini me to balance out the crazy for sure.
she said laughing.
interviewer : just for balance?
letitia : for balance, exactly.
interview : it sounded like you were trying to sneak in the fact that you want two children.
letitia : aww man you caught onto that? uhm…yea i definitely want two children. preferably a boy and girl. ya know, best of both worlds.
interviewer : well i hope that happens for you, truly.
letitia : thank you. i really appreciate that.
interviewer : of course. and thank you for being so open, you’re hands down one of my favorite guests. next time you stop by, i hope your lovely girlfriend can join us. i’m very excited for you two and i hope that everything works out.
letitia : aww, seriously thank you so much. i’ll definitely try and bring her on for sure. it was nice to come on here and share my goals. i like to think of it as speaking them into existence. im so excited for this next chapter. im ready to be a wife. im ready to be a mom. im just uhm…grateful, is the best way to describe it. i used to pray for love like this. i asked god to send me my soulmate and that’s exactly what he did. i couldn’t be happier. so to be able to even have these types of conversations, is a dream come true. thank you for having me.
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usedpidemo · 1 year
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You're a mess (Le sserafim Kazuha)
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“Come on! We’re leaving in an hour, so finish packing whatever you’ll bring!” says your mother, fist knocking on the door like a sandbag. With the constant stomping on the stairs, you’d think there’s some kind of construction or renovation happening, but bags are in the process of being moved out slowly. You’re in the process of vacating the house for the beach, at least for a week.
“Yeah, just give me a few!” you yell back, your default line to her at this point, it might as well be your catchphrase. You know that she knows it won’t take a few. As family, it’s all customary, but she never fails to miss giving you a stark reminder, not even once.
Turning from the bedroom door—sealed shut for an extra layer of security, like the movable desk isn’t enough to let anyone in—you look toward your bed, an utter mess with sheets and pillows scattered all over the room. It’s an abominable sight everywhere you look—except for the figure laying on it.
“Gosh, your place is such a damn mess,” says the young girl, auburn hair flowing everywhere like they’re part of the clutter. With how relaxed she looked, she might as well have just woken up, ignoring the part where she’s dressed for a day out in the sun. “I mean, how old are you again?”
“This isn’t the time to joke around, Zuha,” you reply, offended, while you run to the bathroom, then to the closet, then to the three luggages on the opposite end of the room. Objects are carried from one place to another without purpose, without reason. Rinse and repeat. You’re directionless and aimless, like this is your first time experiencing living in such a chaotic environment, when in reality, this setting has molded you to who you are now. 
“Come on, help me gather my things,” you continue, shuffling random items in your hands as if you have no idea what they are or what function they serve, and she promptly obliges. Thanks to Kazuha’s help, what could have been a laborious period of cleaning and packing is completed in less than five minutes. Sure, your grooming kit is packed with your chips and soda cans, and your game console is stored next to your swimming gear, but you can sort that out later when you’re at your destination.
“And that’s about it, really,” you say, giving your girlfriend a high-five for your combined efforts —when really, she carried most of the work for you. Look at the bags you’ve prepared; they’re extremely bloated to the point of bursting open at any given moment.
“You sure about this? I mean, we’re only going to be away for like a week. It’s not like we’re not leaving the country or anything.” Lifting an eyebrow, Kazuha looks at your baggage, then turns to you, pushing her lip out, showing concern.
“Pretty sure I have everything I need!” you blurt out, nodding to her like everything’s fine, but your plastic smile and heightened tone betrays you. Most of your room is cleared of all its litter and items, mostly stowed away in your luggage as your ‘travel essentials.’ In comparison, Kazuha has prepared only one suitcase for clothing and one backpack for her personal belongings.
“Do you travel like this all the time?” she asks, more of a joke rather than an inquiry, knowing you’ll more than likely never use most of these extra possessions. “I mean, your parents only share one luggage—”
“Yeah! I’m gonna have lots of fun, and I have everything I need!” The words leave you as strangely aggressive, and even though you’re beside her, you’re verbally flailing your arms in self-defense. 
“Sure you do,” she replies, as if mumbling to herself, but still audible for you to hear. Then, she looks at her wristwatch. “We still have fifty minutes. I think we could sort out your bags so it doesn’t blow up—”
“What’s wrong with packing everything?” Face her with an upset expression on her face. “I thought you’d be okay with it, too.”
She blushes right as she looks at you, charmed at your uptightness—acting all cute and sweet, knowing how to make anyone go ‘aww’ and give you a free pass for your misdeeds—but she’s not like mom, who falls for your bluff every single time. “You don’t really need most of those, you know?”
“You know, you’re sounding a lot like mom and I don’t like it.” You pout and puff your cheeks in a last ditch effort to soften the potential blow, but she remains firm against you.
Keeping her gaze at your level, she walks over to your inflated baggage. Defensive as you are, you do nothing to stop her from opening one of your bags and clearing most of the burdensome junk inside. 
“Well, I’m not your mother, but I sure as hell am as concerned as she is,” replies your girlfriend, tone showing frustration—a rare expression. She rummages through the second and third bags, filters out all the unnecessary weight surgically like the first, and gathers them together in a garbage bag picked out from your portable desk. As she slides the desk aside to open the bedroom door and eject your garbage from the room, you’re powerless. 
“How long have you been living like this? Even when I’m here, almost every single day?” asks Kazuha, more of a demand and less of a joke as she closes the door behind her. “I should be sick and done with you, but thank your lucky stars I’m not.”
This was her breaking point, and you knew right away. 
If the little details she makes aren’t enough, her words make it oh-so apparent that you fucked up—severely. The slight force exerted when she swings the door open and close, the sharp, intimidating furrow of her brows, and the blunt drop of her words—she’s the sweetest person you know, a parent’s dream child, and the closest thing to an angel in disguise, whose patience borders on infinite, and gentle with everything and everyone. Now here she is, showing the side you’d never want anyone to see, rear her head with disdain and hate toward you. She’s not screaming her lungs out or destroying your room—at least more than you already have—but it breaks your heart watching her turn against you like this.
And it was all completely avoidable, had you been a better person.
You’d happily forego the trip if it means she’s her usual sweet, bright self again. Hell, you’d happily give up anything she asked if the end result was her looking at you fondly once more.
She sits on the edge of your bed—hers now—and takes her phone out from her pocket. You’re never this terrified of opening your mouth to speak to another person, even to your parents. Clear that lump in your throat. The next words you deliver either prolong or kill this relationship.  
“Zuha,” you say, and it comes out as a soft, terrified whisper, barely audible enough to make her notice you dropping her name. As she turns her gaze toward you, there’s still a strong ire behind those striking eyes. She doesn’t respond, doesn’t note (at least you think she doesn’t) the stiffness on your features, your fingers nervously pressing on each other, only looking on coldly as you force your brain to think maturely for once. Sure, she can wait on that mattress all day, but there’s the self-imposed pressure of time weighing on your head, as if it’s telling you, “If you don't fix it now, it will be ruined forever.”
In theory, it should be so easy. The words are right there, firmly indented on the tip of your tongue, ready to let go when you are; you just have to say them. But then, there’s a few variables that make you hesitant: your sincerity, your expression, your tone. What should be a simple apology becomes an intense, thorough examination of human psychology, and you never prepared for it. 
Still, it doesn’t hurt to try, and you’ll have to live with the consequences, one way or another.
“I’m sorry.”
She lifts an eyebrow, her eyes slowly widening with surprise. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry.” You can’t hold your stare at her any longer because of shame, and tears are beginning to form on your eyes. It feels as if the light has been removed from you, and you don’t deserve to look at someone as angelic as her. She’s been sweet for the longest time, you’ve taken her kindness and patience for granted. Even worse, she’s younger than you, the only child in her family compared to you and your three siblings, yet she’s shown more maturity than you, with every resource and advantage handed to you on a silver spoon.
“Gosh, Zuha, you’re right. Why are you still here? I hate that you’re my girl, because you deserve way better than this. I know Kirin’s gonna give you that ‘I told you so’ comment when she finds out you had to clean out my damn room. No wonder I’m alone and I have no friends. I’m an irredeemable mess.”
You’re angry—not at her, but at yourself. Only now do you truly realize how deep of a pit you’ve dug yourself in. Even your parents couldn’t get you to open up like this. Maybe this is the way to make things right, but you’re certain she’ll be gone from your life at the top of the hour, no matter how much you cry and beg.
“I don’t care anymore. Leave.” You point your finger at the door, ashamed to show your grief-stricken face to her. It should have been a fun time for you both to strengthen your bonds, but it looks like you’ll be spending it contemplating and loathing in your sadness and weaknesses.
As you grab your fixed bags, you feel a gentle arm on your back. Turn around and she’s right behind you—smiling. 
“I’m not going to leave you,” she says, tenderly, spinning you around then wrapping you in her arms, tugging you close. 
Your cheeks burn a fiery red, caught unawares by her sudden affection. “What?” 
“You’re a mess,” chides Kazuha, pulling you closer to her warmth. Her grin has grown as wide as her unending love. “But you’re my mess. You think I’ll break-up with you because of something as small as this? Gosh, why are you so overdramatic?”
It’s difficult to take it all in: the lowest lows to highest highs in a matter of minutes, especially when she’s peppering your face with a flurry of intimate kisses, and all of a sudden, you’re falling together on the bed, then she’s on top of you a moment later, but there’s still a lesson to be learned—at least you’ll save it for another day.
“Thirty minutes before we leave!” yells mom from the floor below, mildly sounding. Kazuha withdraws her face from yours, looks behind, checks the locked door once, then twice for good measure. Your hands are gripped on her back, past her denim jacket, and glued to her creamy skin. 
“We should save it when we’re there,” you say, slightly lifting your head for a glance at the door, expressing worry. “I mean, we’re already showered and all—”
“Don’t care. I want it now.” Kazuha pins you back onto the sheets again, showers you with another round of loving pecks until she lands a passionate, deep one directly on your lips. Her hands are all over you, caressing your hair, down to your neck, on the fabric of your shirt. With nails so sharp, they can dig through your material and draw blood. You can’t really contend, not when you’re beneath her grip, and she can easily toss you around with her surprising level of strength.
A simple apology isn’t enough, and this is a form of compensation or penance, at least you think it is. You sink further into her kiss, hook your fingers on the hem of her denim jacket like hers on your clothes. The bed gently rumbles underneath you as she playfully rocks you while making out. She’s deeply engrossed in the smooch, like your lips are her primary source of life, and she’s determined to make sure anyone who sees knows who it belongs to. 
Eventually, she does pull back, and you exchange a shedding of clothes. Kazuha lifts your shirt over her head, tosses it onto the floor to be completely forgotten. You do the same with her blue jacket; slide it down her shoulders to join your garment off the bed. Afterward, your eyes meet hers in an intimate, loving gaze. There’s less than half an hour on the clock before you have to leave, and you’re both aware of that, but when her angelic eyes are on yours, as if the light has returned to shine on you, time is the least of your concern.
Her lips press and stain yours, sealing its complete ownership to her. Then she marks you down to your jawline, neck, your bare chest, and belly, in that order, etching strawberry colored lipstick stains on your skin. With her face settling at the edge of your pants, her eyes snap wide at how close she is to your growing tent. So she looks at you, breathing tensely and faint from her love, waiting for your approval. Her smile is so innocent, so charming—a contrast to the eroticness slowly building up—that you can’t deny her request.
How could you say no to a woman with a sweet face like hers?
At the drop of your first nod, her fingers immediately seize your zipper and effortlessly slides it down, dragging your boxers along. Your erection springs up, and her eyes alight with awe, like it’s the first time she’s seen your cock. Slightly you lift your head up, only to be knocked back down to earth when she grabs your shaft with her hand, as if crushing you like a can. 
Uttering a low, breathy groan, you mumble out, “Shit Z-Zuha, we don’t have a lot of time.”
“I know,” she says, that sweet, loving smile glazed on her features, loosening her grip on your cock a little, stroking you at a steady pace. “Just give me a minute.”
What should be a quick minute lasts a lot longer than you imagine. Your airy, prolonged sighs, mixed with the occasional gentle drop of her name are the only sounds that break the stillness radiating throughout the bedroom while Kazuha casually pumps you, forcing quick bursts of precum to spill onto her tender, but firm digits. It’s still relatively early in the day, and you haven’t had lunch yet, but you’re falling dizzier and dizzier, as if you’ve been directly under the hot sun for hours. 
“Here I come,” she says, releasing your shaft from her hand. You hear her loud and clear, but you’re left spiraling from pleasure. She briefly hops off the bed to shed her jeans and underwear before she climbs atop you again. On her lips is a soft smile, suppressing a quiet giggle as you look weak beneath her. 
Kazuha plants a kiss on your temple. It’s soft, but almost emphatic enough to lull you to sleep. Lining herself directly above your erection, her tunnel brushes against your tip, and you both shudder at the slightest touch of each other. Slowly but surely, she lowers her hips down, and you’re lying helplessly, watching as your length gradually disappears inside her. You’re not checking the time, and although her hands are pressed on your torso, you couldn’t waste another second without her pussy folded to your cock. 
Completely impaled to your base, her eyes go shut, and her mouth hangs open, releasing a whiny expletive while her nails dig into your skin. Your eyes briefly go out as well, only to snap open at the mild, audible racket from the ground floor. Your relationship is openly supported by your family and hers, but they definitely won’t approve of this stage—at least not yet. 
“Zuha,” you groan, fighting off the surge of pleasure from her suffocating pussy flexing on your cock. “We gotta stay—”
“Shhhhh.” Kazuha rasps, hinting a little hostility, shuffles a finger toward your lips while she acclimates to your hardness. She’s still soft-sounding, as always, but when it comes to sex, she transforms into completely different person, and it always catches you off-guard. “God, you’re stretching me out.”
Your family is still busy packing downstairs, as proven by the constant slam of the front door and luggage wheels rolling around. It’s a loud commotion, enough to block her whiny, lewd moans from detection. She’s atop you, using you as a toy and a conduit for her pleasure, and you’re on the opposite end, with the last of your will denying her, when you’ve been in the wrong—until now. So you finally give her control, and she kindly does to you in return. You’re connected by two pairs of hands placed on the other’s body: hers pressed on your chest as support, and yours on her slender, toned midriff that puts you to shame most of the time. 
Her hips roll up and down at a slow and steady tempo, delicate and purposeful in stretching herself out with your entire length. She bites her lip, trying to repress her bliss; the immense wave of pleasure she feels with each drop onto your waist makes her scream. Even with the gradual roughness in her movements when it comes to riding you, she’s still graceful, mesmerizing, and hypnotizing, down to her soft, passionate expressions.
“Yes, yes, fuck that feels so good,” she says, tossing her head back gently, lifting her sleeveless shirt over her head within seconds, leaving her as naked as you. Your gaze is magnetized to her newly exposed chest, with her round, compact breasts with their stiff nipples attracting every bit of your attention. It’s only temporary, as she lifts herself before going down on you again, and you share a collective groan of bliss, with your eyes going dark. “I want this cock inside me all day long, that’s how good you fucking feel.”
Her fingers press back down to those familiar deep marks on your chest, still riding you at her tempo, like she’s got you on cruise control. She was always a slow love maker, always preferring the sex to be steady and drawn out, but if they weren’t always the best kind. At this point, you’re certain you’ll be left behind and forgotten, and she’ll still be grinding on you until the sun goes down, but you can’t deny how incredible how suffocating and wet her pussy feels, coating your cock liberally with her wet juices. 
With your hands sliding down her arched back, you meet her halfway, reciprocating each slam of her hips with an upstroke of your cock. Your senses take in everything right in front of you: her constantly changing but still pleasure-ridden face, the endless stream of moans with profanities laced in between, and the steady sound of her ass slapping on your shaft. There’s little to make her change her mind, especially when she’s so into it, so into the act, that you might as well forget about leaving and prepare to stay home when she’s finally done with you.
“We’re almost leaving! Fifteen minutes!” shouts your dad from the ground floor, a timely distraction from the otherwise excessive pleasure drowning you. It doesn’t affect Kazuha in the slightest, and if anything, only seems to arouse and motivate her to do the opposite by firmly pressing you deeper onto your bed as it trembles with your erotic motions. Your bags are still in your room, and the sounds below are dying down, and so will your secret if you don’t keep track of the time.
“Zuha—” you try to blurt, only to be met with her familiar index finger blocking the passage between your lips. She refuses to stop until she’s filled to the brim, and she’ll get hers no matter what. Her eyes snap open, looks at the panicked expression on your face, then to the arms wrapped around her back. With her hand, she leads yours down to her supple, plump ass before planting a kiss on the bridge of your nose.
“I know,” she says, with a flattering, but charming and innocuous grin. She raises her hips and slams them down, makes you grunt sharply while keeping that cheeky smile on her face. She knows. She doesn’t want to. She has no intention to.
Even if she doesn’t outright say it, she’s practically forcing you into submission. Looks are so deceiving, yet you fall for her every single time—and with a cute, endearing face and personality like hers, why wouldn’t you?
The growing thumps on the stairs draw both your gazes to the bedroom door, and your heart is beating wildly from a mix of stress and pleasure. Your thoughts return to the bags placed on the side of the bed—reminder of the short time you have left—and you’re slapping yourself internally for not stopping her before it spiraled out of control. Then there’s Kazuha, bouncing and fucking herself on your cock, purposefully moaning with rising cadence in an act of defiance, going against everything you’ve thought about her. 
“So—close,” she purrs, toying with your chest, giving it playful slaps, as her barely coherent words quickly fall by the wayside, returning to whines and needy mewls. Her urgency to release breaks her control, and her pace quickens; she’s crashing herself onto your cock, foregoing the slow, comfortable grind she’s natural with to chase that high a stone’s throw away. 
Kazuha’s orgasm takes you suddenly, and her sweat filled face, once a realm higher than you, is suddenly inches apart from yours. Her body shudders and trembles, every muscle and nerve in her tensing up from such a powerful climax. The vicious grip of her sopping cunt, freshly drenched with waves of slick, drives you close to breaking point as well, intent on pumping all your hot, creamy seed into her. 
She continues to moan and spew curses, albeit in decreasing tones, as her hips slow down, until her limber, slim figure falls right into your hands, quivering as her orgasm dies down. Realizing her hold on you has gone nonexistent, you muster up the strength to lift yourself off the bed. Ignore the puddle that has formed on the sheets. With a worn out Kazuha in your arms, you bring her with you to the other room, slamming it shut and locking the door once you’re inside.
“We’re almost leaving, you two! Hurry up!” says your dad as he takes the remaining luggage in front of your bedroom before going down the steps again. He remains seemingly naive to your sinful act performed behind closed doors, suppressed behind another layer of defense: your bathroom. You’re supposed to be cleaning up, but here you are, dirtying up your house even more.
“Yeah! We’re coming!” you yell out from inside the shower, briefly looking behind as you pump your hard cock frantically inside Kazuha’s tight walls. It’s a familiar but different position compared to the bed. Her slender legs are wrapped around your waist, and your cock is still buried deeply inside her, but you’re carrying her in your arms this time around, and you’re dictating the pace as you fuck your girlfriend into further submission, insistent to get one off in her before leaving. 
Five minutes before the start of a new hour, your soaked watch tells. Forget it. You need yours too. 
Fortunately, he doesn’t hear your girlfriend and the lewd, arousing way she says your name as you pound her at her most sensitive spots, even as it bounces off the bathroom walls. Sure, there’s also that shower raining down both your naked, sweaty bodies as additional blockage, but even the sound of her flesh slapping against yours is loud enough to cause suspicion from a wary member. Nevertheless, it doesn’t deter you from using Kazuha to your liking, without care for her comfort or her pleasure, only focused on indulging in her rapturous, silky heat.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries in your ear, resorting to the most common word available to express her sexual arousal and elation. Her hands dig into your nape and your soaked hair, practically clinging to you as her life support. The way you both fucked each other was completely different, but this hits harder for her, and it accelerates her second climax ahead of yours. “Fuck—gonna—ah!”
Kazuha utters another sharp, deafening cry as you bring her back up to that high again. By some miracle, you don’t let the wetness make you slip; it only spurs you on. Pin her against the wall, still fucking her hard through her orgasm, resolute on setting yours off. Your soft mouth grows some fangs, marks her sensitive collarbone with a fresh, sore red coat. This is your way of getting back at her in the most subtle way—and possibly the least, with how strident she sounds.
She manages to gain the strength to forcefully turn your gaze to hers, trying to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, but you’re still thrusting in her, unwilling to turn down the roughness. The butterflies in your stomach grow with every agonizing second. You’re so fucking close, so ready to finally let go—
After the constant shaking of her tight figure, she recaptures you for another intimate kiss, and it’s what ultimately sets you off. Your tongue slips into her mouth as you give in, groaning in her as you release thick ropes of cum in succession. Penetrating her depths, you fill her with every drop of your seed, draining yourself empty inside her thirsty, greedy cunt.
“So warm. So full,” she mumbles, giving your lips a soft peck in appreciation as you come down from that euphoric, heavenly high. 
You slump against the wall, going through post-orgasm exhaustion, with Kazuha still in your clutch. The noises that previously filled the bathroom are overtaken by the continuous, rushing flow of shower water, with your deep, heavy breaths in second place. Breaking the kiss, you rest your head against her reddened collarbone, having forgotten the urgency of time—and ignoring the incessant knocking on your bedroom door and shouting of your parents echoing beyond two layers of walls. 
“Do you think they know?” she asks, clingy and shuddering but satiated.
Looking over your shoulder as the barrage of demanding, door breaking knocks continues, you chuckle. “I don’t think so.”
(A/N: Another fluffy-ish one, and Kazuha looks like one of the softest girls ever, so she deserves the fluff treatment. This was supposed to be another lengthy one-shot with way more story, but I was really fixated on one specific scene, which is what resulted in this fic. Next one's gonna be very story based, for sure ;) Thank you for reading!)
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ashesofivory · 11 months
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NIGHT-TIME NICOTINE 🚬
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Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: Javier knew cigarettes were bad for his health, but still, he smoke a few a day, due to the stress his work carried over. The thing is- he never expected that the same stuff that was slowly killing him, would led him to meet his new addiction.
Warnings: smoking, mention of drugs, third person, use of she/her, swearing, Javier just being the natural flirt he is.
A/N: God, this scenario has been stuck in my head for some days now, and a friend encouraged me to write it down, despite me not knowing how to write this kind of stuff. But I guess I have nothing to lose? Here goes nothing. (Also, English is not my first language :(.)
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Javier had been standing outside for a while, his gaze focused on the flickering street laps all around the neighborhood. He took a drag of his Malboro cigarette, a cloud of smoke coming out of his lips in the following seconds. It had been a long day, without much progress in Escobar’s case, but still, a long, exhausting day. And for Javier, all he wanted now was for him to enjoy his cigarette, and the ones that would come after.
He looked up to the sky, the stars shining above and for a moment- he felt the world disappear. All his troubles seemed to fade away, except only the smell of nicotine and the visible smoke surrounding him.
The sound of footsteps snapped him out of his daze, out of that moment of peace and quiet. He turned his head, in the direction where the footsteps were coming from, the cigarette still in his lips.
“Evening.”
“Evening.” A woman with gorgeous shiny hair said, her voice quiet, like velvet to his ear.
She leaned against one of the street lamps, the one just in front of Javier. She was wearing a white tank top, and some low-waisted jeans- still, that didn’t mean the shape of her body couldn’t be noticed. She reached into one of her pockets, and took out a single cigarette, much thinner that the one he had between his lips, and lit it, the momentary fire of the lighter lighting up her face.
Peña let his gaze travel over her, starting with her head, then moving onto her face for a couple seconds, before finally landing on her hips. The Texan cleared his throat, and looked into her eyes while speaking.
“…You lost?” He chuckled a bit at the end of his sentence, before taking another puff of his cigarette.
“No, not lost. But hey, thanks for caring.” The woman answered, winking at him, before taking a drag of her own cigarette, the smoke soon surrounding her.
“You sure? There’s a lot of people who would love to do you bad around here…” Javi’s gaze was still on the woman, as his hand gripped onto the barrel of his pistol. “And I wouldn’t allow a fine looking woman like yourself get hurt. Not on my watch.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to get hurt.“ She lifted up her shirt just a bit, revealing a small pistol on her belt.
It was common for some women in Colombia to carry weapons like that one, due to the amount of threat and danger they constantly were at, especially at night.
“But it’s nice to know someone has got your back.” She said, taking another drag, this one a bit longer.
Javier’s hand slowly loosened his grip onto the barrel of his weapon, raising and eyebrow and his lips curving up a bit at the side of her forearm. “That’s nice” He said, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he chuckled. “You got some guts carrying around a gun in a country like this. But I won’t tell anyone. Our secret” he rasped, along with a wink.
“Our secret” She repeated, winking lightly back at him, as she took another drag. The light of the street lamp flickering on top of her every now and then.
“May I ask; why are you out this late?” The DEA Agent asked, his eyes shifting over to look at the woman, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.
“I don’t like smoking inside my house. Smoking itself is already pretty bad, so I prefer the damage being done just to my lungs, not also to my furniture.”
“Well, seems like it’s reasonable enough.” He grinned, shaking his head at the idea. “It you don’t mind me asking, a gorgeous lady like you has to have a pretty name, right?” He asked, his eyes not leaving hers for a moment- he loved eye contact, and he was well aware he had an effect on women doing that.
“Y/N.” She answered, bringing her cigarette once more to her lips, taking another puff from it, leaving a slight lipstick stain on it.
For a split second, Javier wished he was that cigarette, her lips all over him, leaving marks with her beautiful lips on his tanned skin.
“Javier Peña. Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He said, her name leaving his lips sensually, as if he could repeat it a million times, and never get tired of it. “What brings you out here, gorgeous?”
“I live in the apartments just at the end of the street.” She then looked at the end of the street, her cigarette hanging at the edge of her lips.
“Is that a fact? Is it nice there?” Javier grinned, rising an eyebrow.
The truth is- he didn’t give a fuck about the apartments, he just wanted to hear her voice, her sweet, soft voice. It was like music to his ears, and he had heard many women’s talk before, even moaning his name into his ear, but for him, Y/N’s voice was unique, and he loved it.
“It’s nice, yeah. I mean, there’s nothing much to say. Just a bunch of apartments.” She laughed a bit at the question, at the silliness of it, before taking another drag from her cigarette. “What’s a man like you doing here so late in the day?”
“Well…” Javi sighed, “It’s been a long day. I’m a DEA Agent, so sometimes work just gets… overwhelming. And I know this neighborhood is pretty calm and quiet at this time, so I decided to walk for a bit while smoking.” Javier shrugged, looking away for a moment. “What brings you out this late, aside from wanting to smoke outside?”
“Nothing, really. Just smoking. I always smoke one cig before going to bed. How come I never see you around this neighborhood? Seems like you come here often.”
The Texan bit his lip at the question. He knew this neighborhood because many of the hookers he slept with lived here. But he couldn’t tell her that, he didn’t want to scare away the possibilities of spending some more time with him.
“Ah, so this is routine for you. Well, I don’t make myself seen a lot. I tent to blend in with the shadows.” He lied, before looking back at her. “Unless I see a pretty girl like you.” He winked at her, taking a drag from his own Malboro.
“Fair enough. You know, drug’s a problem in this neighborhood, just so you know. There’s almost a drug dealer in every corner.” She said, looking down at her feet.
“Really? If that’s the case, I’ll make sure to stick around, so none of these people come near you” He took some steps closer to her. “You won’t need to worry about these guys coming near you, not as long as I’m here.”
“I though you said you were a DEA Agent, not a personal bodyguard?” She smirked, before taking another drag.
Just when Javi though she couldn’t get any better- she also had a sense of humor, and a slight hint of teasing in her voice.
“That’s true. You got me.” He smirked. “But seems like I have to play bodyguard for you, now. I’ll take on the responsibility.”
“Thank you, Javi” she winked at him, before taking her last drag from her cigarette.
When he heard his name come out of her mouth, he felt the urge to push her against the street lamp, and take her there, his lips on hers, on her neck, on her collar bone. He could already feel his hands on her skin, going all over her body, on her skin, him just burning at the touch of her skin. He desired her, but not like he desired other woman. It was beyond what he was used to- and he couldn’t get enough of the feeling.
“Sadly,” her voice took him out from his thoughts. “I better be heading back now, my cigarette’s over.”
“If you say so, princess. Are you gonna be alright? Don’t you want me to walk you to your place?” He asked, with a wink.
“I’m gonna be alright, don’t you worry.” She threw her cigarette to the ground, stepping on it. “But thanks for the offer, bodyguard.”
“You have nothing to thank, gorgeous. As long as you’re safe. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
As he talked, she walked over to him, and took his cigarette from his mouth, bringing it to her lips, and taking a long drag from it, leaving a stain on it, before placing it back between his lips.
Javi was caught off guard, as his cigarette was taken from his lips and was now in hers, but he couldn’t avoid smirking at the view. “You’re such a tease.”
“I know. Now, you have the taste on my lips in that cigarette of yours. You’re welcome.” She said, placing a hand to his chest as she talked, before removing it and walking away, to her apartment, slowly disappearing into the shadows, out of Javier’s view.
He let out a sigh, and took a drag from the cigarette, her taste in it- sweet, perfect with the strong one coming from the nicotine. He shook his head with a chuckle.
“Damn… you really got me, princess.” He mumbled to himself.
Javier’s eyes stared ahead of him, as his hand went to his pocket. He had a look of playfulness and amusement still in his eyes, as a large grin was on his face. The Texan chuckled once more to himself. The though of having her taste on the cigarette, and now in his tongue was definitely going to make him go wild for the rest of the night.
“She was really something else.”
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