#i tried my best and if this is only gonna get about a hundred notes im gonna cry

[dudeitiskarev]

I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader

Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.

Word count: 2.4k.

Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.

Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!

MASTERLIST

A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.

Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.

You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.

“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.

“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”

“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”

The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.

It was his soul returning to his body.

He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.

All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.

You were alive.

“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.

Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.

“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.

Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.

“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.

“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.

“JJ?”

“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”

Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.

“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”

It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.

“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.

“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”

Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.

This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.

“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.

“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”

Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.

God, if you don’t ever wake up—

“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.

She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.

“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.

“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”

Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.

“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”

Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.

“García,” Gideon insisted.

A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.

“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”

“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.

Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.

“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”

Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.

It was just you and him.

The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.

As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.

Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.

He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.

Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.

He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.

His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.

“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”

He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.

“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.

You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.

“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.

He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.

“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.

“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”

It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.

“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”

You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.

Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.

It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.

Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.

Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.

“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”

He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.

“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”

Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.

The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.

It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.

“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.

Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.

You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”

It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.

He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.

A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.

Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.

Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.

Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.

Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.

“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.

Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.

“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.

You were awake.

Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.

You coughed and writhed with discomfort.

“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.

You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”

Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.

“Hi,” he merely said.

You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.

“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.

“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”

“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.

This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.

“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”

The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.

“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”

“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.

The guilt was still there.

“But I didn’t.”

“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.

“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”

He chuckled. “Barely.”

“It looks good. I like it.”

He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.

“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.

“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.

Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.

“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”

“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.

“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”

I love you, he thought.

“How could I not?” he said instead.

Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.

I hope you liked it!!!!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[drudyslut]

Rafe x Reader who does like OF!? BUT rafe doesn’t know she does it. Like I can so see topper and rafe hanging out and she goes live bc she’s finaly able to be alone and top like being a subscriber to her and telling rafe about her and stuff yk? U can decide what happens from there but😭

warnings: smut! 18+ OF, aggressive!rafe, bimbo!reader, face fucking (i love this shit if u can’t tell), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, sex on a livestream, reader calls rafe daddy once, degrading. i think that’s all?

note: this got kinda long and i feel like i’ve been working on it for months (only a lil over a month lmao) but enjoy! remember: likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

The sound of your soft moans coming from Topper’s phone had caught Rafe’s attention. He quickly makes his way toward his best friend, his mind going a thousand miles an hour at what Topper could have came across. His eyes go wide when he sees your body, dressed in the red lace lingerie set he’d bought you last week displayed on the screen.

“Yo, what the fuck are you on? That’s Y/N” Rafe snaps, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares at his best friend, a wide smile spread across his lips.

Topper’s smile fades, a look of fear taking over his face when he notices the anger emitting from his best friend.

“Wh-What?! This is… This is Y/N?” Topper says lowly, eyes darting between his phone screen and Rafe.

Rafe shakes his head slowly, letting out a deep exhale before grabbing the phone from Topper’s hand. He clicks on your profile, seeing an array of pictures and videos. Your face was never shown, but Rafe knew your body, he knew about the birth mark you had on your inner thigh, he knew this was you.

“You- You’re fucking subscribed to my girlfriend? What the fuck Top!”

“Dude I swear, I didn’t know it was Y/N..” Topper replies, voice shaky as his eyes stay on his angry best friend.

Rafe exits the screen, tossing Topper’s phone onto the table before quickly making his way toward the front door, completely ignoring the apologies his best friend was shouting at him.

Rafe was furious. How could you not tell him you were on OnlyFans? Why were you on OnlyFans? He had more money than he knew what to do with, he could support you, so why were you selling your body online? Letting people see his girl?!

He was in his truck before he could even think a plan through, his mind only set on getting to your house and confronting the situation head on.

-

You’re mid livestream when you hear your front door open followed by a loud slam that made your heart sink into your stomach.

Rafe pushes your bedroom door open, his jaw tense and fists balled at his sides, he was breathing heavily, and you could sense from the tension in the air that he’d found out.

“Hey baby, what’re you-” You begin but Rafe stops you when he tightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing so hard your vision blurred, tears filling your eyes as he continued to cut off your oxygen.

“Why the fuck are you on OnlyFans? Hmm? Am I not enough for you? Need to be a fucking whore online for the world? You like that type of attention?”

You tried to speak but all that came out were strangled gasps, your hand clawing at his as you tried to rip his hand from your throat.

“I’m gonna fuck you for this livestream, let all these fucking people know who you fucking belong to, got it?”

You trail your eyes up to his, nodding your head as best you could.

Rafe releases the grip on your throat, pushing you back in the process. You begin gasping for air as tears streamed harshly down your face. You glance down at your computer, noticing the hundreds of comments flooding in before glancing back up at Rafe who had stripped himself down to nothing.

You bite down at your bottom lip, sitting yourself onto your knees. Rafe takes a long stride toward you, his hard cock grasped firmly in his hands as he slowly stroked himself.

“Set that up somewhere else, gotta let ‘em see how good I fuck your throat”

You quickly jump from your bed, setting your computer up on your dresser, giving a perfect view of your bed and rushing back to Rafe. You spit into your palm, quickly pushing his hand off himself and replacing it with your own.

Rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as you slowly worked him. “Fuck, can’t wait to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock”

You place a soft kiss onto his tip before pushing it into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his swollen head, the taste of his precum hitting your tongue and pulling a low moan from you.

Rafe gathers your hair into his hand, pulling at it harshly before he shoves your head down. You gag around him when his head hits the back of your throat. He begins to thrust himself in and out of your mouth, hair tightly grasped in his hand, “Fuck, so fucking good. Let ‘em see how well you take my cock baby”

He continues thrusting himself into your mouth, tears flowing quickly down your face with each push and pull. You place both hands on his thighs, trying to steady yourself but Rafe uses his free hand to slap your hands away.

You feel his thrusts growing sloppy, hips stuttering, before he pulls you off of him.

You whine, “Rafe, wanna taste you. Please”

Rafe tsks, shaking his head as his darkened over eyes find yours, “Don’t think so baby, when I cum, it’s gonna be in that pretty pussy”

He situates himself on your bed, snapping his fingers and signaling for you to sit yourself on his lap with your back to him. You glance up to look into your webcam, watching as the many comments continue to fill the screen.

Rafe runs a large hand up your sides, large palms finding your bra covered chest and cupping at your tits harshly. You throw your head back, resting it on his shoulder as he continues to massage at your flesh, pinching your hardened nipples between his fingers.

He runs one hand back down your side, gripping at your thigh and harshly spreading your legs. His fingers tug at the waistband of your lacy panties, ripping them off your body and tossing the torn fabric to your bedroom floor.

His eyes flicker up to the screen of your laptop, a smirk taking over his face when he sees your glistening cunt on display, his long fingers toying at your clit and wet folds.

“Such a pretty pussy, and it’s all mine”

You whimper out a weak response, Rafe’s lips attacking your neck with kisses, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin and leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.

You let out a loud gasp when you feel two fingers plunged inside your aching core, his harsh upward thrusts making your hips jerk forward. He quickly grabs at your hip with his free hand, forcing you back down onto his lap as he continues to harshly push his fingers inside of you.

He places a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder before sinking his teeth into the skin. He curves his fingers up, finding that spot inside you that has your brain short circuiting, toes curling as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut. Getting off on me using you on camera for hundreds of people watching”

A low groan falls from your lips, “Rafe, fuck feels so fucking good” You sob out, tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill with each harsh thrust of his fingers.

Rafe tuts, slowing his fingers down to a painfully slow pace, “I dunno. I don’t think I should let you cum. I mean, you were out here selling your body, my body, when I can give you whatever you want”

You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, orgasm fluttering, ready to rush from you at any moment, “Rafe, please! ‘M so sorry! Let me cum, please!”

Rafe chuckles darkly, “Fucking beg for it then. Beg me to let you cum”

You choke out a sob, tears flowing down your cheeks. “Please! Please let me cum daddy! Promise i’ll be a good girl, won’t ever do anything bad again”

“So goddamn pathetic” Rafe laughs out, his fingers picking up in pace again, repeatedly hitting at your gspot, forcing your orgasm from you in body shaking euphoria.

He helps you ride out your high before harshly pulling his fingers from you, bringing them into his mouth and sucking your juices from them. “Always taste so good baby”

Rafe quickly lifts you from his lap, tossing you onto your bed. “On your stomach” He demands, and you quickly obey.

You’re flat on your stomach, hands under your head as your eyes find your computer screen for what felt like the millionth time. A small squeal escapes you when Rafe’s large hands grip at your hips and lifts your ass up.

The bed dips in behind you, Rafe’s knees hitting the mattress as he kneels behind you. He lands a harsh slap to your ass with one hand while the other firmly grips at his cock, slowly pumping himself and teasing at your entrance with his swollen head.

“Rafe, please!”

He harshly thrusts himself inside, his tip hitting at your sweet spot and pulling loud moans from you. His fingertips dig into your sides, surely bruising the skin, his hips slamming into your backside roughly.

“Fuck, always feel so good f’me, so fucking wet and tight! Keep squeezin’ me like that baby, takin’ me so good, so deep”

You arch your back more, letting him thrust himself as deep as he could into your sore cunt. The sounds of your squelching pussy and Rafe’s loud groans bounce off the walls of your room, your inner walls clenching uncontrollably around Rafe’s cock, trying to squeeze out every last drop he had to give.

“R-Rafe! Gonna fuckin’ cum, holy shit, feels so goddamn good!”

Rafe slides a hand up the length of your back, reaching the back of your head and gripping at your hair. He pulls your neck backward, tears forming in your eyes from the uncomfortable position your neck was in along with the brutal thrusts of his cock. He uses the hand in your hair to keep your body steady, his free hand making its way to your face, fingers pushing past your lips and down your throat.

“Look toward the camera baby, show them how fuckin’ good I make you feel. Wanna cum? Wanna be a good fuckin’ girl and soak my cock?”

You turn your head as best you can, eyes looking directly into the camera. Your cheeks are stained with mascara, drool running down the sides of your face as Rafe’s fingers stay lodged in your mouth. You had a completely fucked out look on your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust of his hips.

You pathetically whimper when Rafe slowly pulls himself from inside you, slamming himself back inside without warning. “Go on, say it. Only I can make you feel this good. I fucking own this pussy, yeah? Say it!”

You choke out a sob, “You- You own me Rafe! You own my pussy! Only- Only you make me feel this good”

Rafe lets out a low and raspy groan, his dick twitching inside you, his warm cum spilling into your pussy.

He fucks himself into you a few more times, helping you reach your own high. He strokes the head of his cock against your gspot, making you clamp around him, your body going limp as your orgasm rushes through you, soaking his cock and your bedsheets.

He slowly pulls himself from you, his fingers falling from your mouth and letting your body fall flat onto the mattress. He softly lifts you up, turning your arousal soaked pussy toward the camera and letting your viewers watch his cum drip from your cunt.

He slowly walks toward your computer, ending the livestream without any hesitation. He walks you back to your bed, dropping your weak body down, his tall frame towering over your body.

“I want that account deleted tomorrow, and don’t ever let me catch you doing that stupid shit again, got it?”

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @lizcameron @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @mel119g @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @inluvwithmorales @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @urbestieboo @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form | all requests

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #aggressive!rafe #bimbo!reader #OF!reader #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe cameron brainrot

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 3 ⬅ch. 2

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. wc 2.5k. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i do not have a tag list.

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the following week involved you being the only medic on base and having to treat every soldier on your own; briefing sessions with soap; a few awkward run-ins with ghost; and a shit load of anxiety.

you couldn’t get over the fact that you were about to walk side by side with the most dangerous men in the world on the most important mission you’ve ever been on. soap was acting like it was no big deal—they do this kind of stuff all the time, he had said. you had to remind soap that you were new to this division and weren’t exactly a skilled killer like the rest of the men. you were used to helping wounded men when they were carted back to base, not being in on the action.

“soap,” you whined as the larger man refused to let you take a break from your current training match. “i wasn’t built for this,” you said dramatically, collapsing on the mats beneath you. 

soap chuckled, his hands resting on his hips. “i’m just tryin’ to prepare ya. ghost isn’t gonna go so easy on you.”

“ghost?” you asked, sitting upright–a bit faster than someone who wasn’t constantly thinking about their lieutenant would.

soap stuck a hand out and grabbed yours, heaving you up to stand before him again. 

“ghost insisted on makin’ sure we all met his standards.”

you knew this was about you and gaz specifically, even if he didn’t say it. these men were already the best of the best, that's how they got recruited into this task force. but gaz being recently hurt, and you not coming from a combat background, was probably plaguing his thoughts. 

“oh, wonderful,” you said sarcastically. you were almost positive soap was oblivious to your weird dynamic with ghost, but you couldn’t be one hundred percent certain; soap’s perceptiveness could surprise you sometimes.

you downed your water and stretched a bit more waiting for your imminent doom. 

gaz approached you, his arm outstretched over his head. 

“how’s your hand?” you asked him.

gaz released his stretch with a satisfied grunt and then held up his now unbandaged hand, smiling. 

“and your ribs?”

“still a bit sore. just glad they’re not broken.”

you smiled. “just don’t go too hard training today, okay?”

gaz mock saluted you. “yes, doctor.” you rolled your eyes. 

gaz had pulled you into a sparring match, trying to get your reflexes to actually function properly for when you’d be out in the field with the men.

you growled in frustration as gaz got another killing blow lined up. 

“dead. again,” he said with a laugh. 

“glad you find my suffering entertaining.” 

you felt your body tense and you knew that ghost had just strolled into the training room. you had a weird way of sensing whenever he was around. it was like he made the air thicker of any room he walked in to.

you tried to keep your focus on gaz. he grabbed your hands and helped you adjust your hand wraps that were starting to loosen around your knuckles. your eyes flickered over gaz’s shoulder and you spotted him.

his eyes were already on you and you felt your blood pressure drastically rise. you immediately looked back to gaz and tried to pay attention to what he was saying to you. 

“ready to go again?” he asked when he decided your hands were wrapped properly. you nodded.

after what felt like an eternity, ghost appeared beside the two of you, observing as gaz was in the process of showing you a new defense move.

gaz reached around you with his foot, knocking you off balance and sending you colliding with the mat. 

“jesus,” you mumbled, both amazed and annoyed with him. 

gaz chuckled and reached out a hand to help you up. you were impressed at his composed and collected attitude knowing what was about to happen in a few days' time. you, personally, couldn’t get your heart to stop racing worrying about everything that might go wrong. 

you ignored ghost’s eyes on you as gaz tried to demonstrate the move he just did once again. 

you attempted everything he showed you, repairing the order of the stances in your head as you executed each one, and you sent him flying on his back. 

“shit, nice job,” gaz praised. 

you helped him up when a looming presence from behind you startled you.

“oh!” you jumped, looking up at ghost who was only inches from your chest. “hi, lt.”

ghost was wearing one of his thinner balaclavas again, paired with a long-sleeved black shirt–that disappointingly didn’t have its sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos–and dark tactical pants. he was a new level of intimidating without all his gear on. you felt like your body was going to melt from the heat he was putting off.

“she’s never gonna learn like that,” he grunted out, directly his words at gaz but holding your gaze. 

you knew gaz was letting you knock him on his ass, but how else would you understand the basics of the moves he was teaching you? if he blocked you and went on defense every time you went to try, you wouldn’t be able to learn anything. gaz had years of training on you.

gaz mumbled something about taking a break and you began to panic. shit.

“open your legs,” ghost demanded. 

a sudden blaze of heat raced up your chest and to your face. your eyes must have turned to moons because ghost’s foot jutted out to kick between your own and widen your stance as if to tell you to get your head out of the gutter.

you adjusted your feet and felt gaz slip off behind the two of you. 

just you and ghost now. great. 

“your waist feeling okay?” you asked, pointing towards the area of his wound from the week prior. 

he nodded. “good as new.”

“good. that’s good,” you said awkwardly. 

you both looked at one another, your cheeks warming, before ghost cut you out of your daydream. “arms should always be at the ready.” 

you lifted your own and did as he said, mirroring him, and taking on a solid but readying posture.

“now, try to hook your leg behind my own.”

you nodded, the heat from earlier subsided just to be replaced with the rushing sound of your heart beating in your ear. you prayed ghost didn’t have super hearing, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

you dipped down slightly and tried to get your leg to wrap behind ghost’s, aiming to knock him backward. 

before your foot even made it where you wanted it to go, ghost had spun you around and sent you stumbling back. 

“again,” he demanded. 

you took in a breath before approaching back up to him and going at it again. 

he blocked your attack and you tripped over his feet and fell to the mat. 

“again.”

you felt the sweat bead on your forehead, out of both anger and exertion.

and again he knocked you back. 

“this isn’t going to help!” you finally said, a scowl on your face. 

“don’t like bein’ pushed? think any of those men out there will give a damn about that? think they’ll give a shit that you’re just a medic?”

you let out an irritated breath. “i just don’t think training me like this will get me anywhere.”

“oh, and how would you like t’be trained then?”

you stared at him in silence. 

“should i let you tackle me to t’ground?” his voice was deeper than earlier, sending shivers up your spine. “is catering to your ego that important you’d risk your life?”

“this has nothing to do with my ego.” your voice felt faint as you struggled to come up with an argument. you were frustrated, sure. but he was right in a way. any bad guy you cross out in the field isn’t going to give a shit that you’re a medic and not a trained soldier. and you did not want to fucking die. 

“no? then go again.”

you brushed off your pants and readied your stance, going at him again. in an agile ebbed movement, you went flying to the ground. again.

you propped yourself up on your elbows and glared at him. frustrated beyond belief, and exhausted from already training for hours today. you did something you wouldn’t have normally done if you weren’t so peeved off. you sprung to your feet and rushed into him. ghost caught your hand but you spun around behind him, making him grunt as your foot collided with the back of his knee. 

he bent forward and you jumped onto his back. he had to release your hand in fear of choking himself out. ghost was so caught off guard that he sank to his knees. you caught your breath, still clinging to him. you may not have got him to go all the way down, but still, you managed something. 

“now if you’ll–” ghost cut your words short, shifting his weight so you slid sideways and he grabbed your waist and sent you sprawling out before him. before your back hit the mat, you grabbed his shirt, yanking him downward with you. his hands caught himself on either side of your head, his hips between your legs, his torso almost touching yours as you breathed heavily. 

ghost’s eyes bore into yours as he loomed over you. heat rushed to your face as you felt his hips pressing against your own, trapping you below his impressive weight. your hands were still tied up in his shirt, your heart racing out of your chest. 

“that hurt,” you mumbled.

“it was supposed to.” his voice was far softer than you’ve ever heard it before as if you stole the breath right from his chest. goosebumps immediately covered your arms and you hoped to the gods that he didn’t notice. 

you were at a loss for words as he held his position. “now how will you get out of this, pet?” he provoked. 

devoid of logic, you bucked your hips up against him, trying to wrangle your way free. ghost essentially growled above you, sending fluttering vibrations through your chest. you tried to roll out from under him, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he let you. your positions quickly changed as you used all your muscles to turn him on his back. you straddled him, heaving again at the amount of force you had to exert to move his body.

your hands were resting on his chest and you felt your entire body go hot. there was no way you were straddling ghost, sitting right above his belt, your hands pressed flat against him, and his hands… his hands loose on your hips, edging towards your thighs. 

in pure embarrassment you quickly stumbled off of him, not even offering to give him a hand to stand back up. 

you thought for sure he would call it a day, probably irritated at you getting so close. those were definitely not proper techniques you executed back there. 

to your surprise, ghost grunted, stood, and mumbled, “again.”

you couldn’t help the displeased groan that left your lips. “ghost, please. i’ve been doing this all morning.”

he didn’t like the way his chest tightened momentarily at the sound of you begging him. 

he could see the exhaustion on your face. in a sort of compromise, he wanted one more spar. he slid the knife from his holster on his thigh and caught it expertly in his fingers. “unarm me,” he demanded. 

you looked at him with hesitation. “if ya unarm me, y’can be done for the day. i won't even fight back.”

something painful echoed in your chest. you just wanted to get away from him. why was he dragging out your time together? he didn’t even like you. he should just tell price they couldn’t risk taking you along on the mission. 

you mentally groaned and slowly stepped closer. ghost readied his stance. 

you darted to the left and he deftly blocked you. 

then you ducked down, coming up on the side he held the weapon and his arm stopped yours. you grunted before slipping around him and shoving him back. he stumbled a few steps and you dodged his arms. 

ghost spun to meet you, grabbing your wrist with his free hand, both of you stumbling so your back collided with the wall. 

with heavy breaths, ghost pinned your arm beside your head. your other hand struggled, but you managed to grip his knife and fling it out of his hand, sending it rattling on the hard floor away from you two. 

ghost’s hips were almost against yours, his body trapping you against the wall. your head clouded with so many unwanted thoughts about his chest pressed against your own. the way his body traced yours like a phantom.

“next time, try to hold on to the weapon you disarm. because now, you’re defenseless. and hate to break it to ya, but you against any man of my size, unarmed… you’re dead.”

your mouth hung open slightly as you caught your breath. you could feel ghost’s ungloved hands lingering by your waist. you nodded, unable to speak as you felt his fingers fluttering against your skin where your shirt began to ride up. it was almost like he was purposefully trying to touch you. 

your eyes flickered down to where his hands were and ghost immediately backed away. he gave you one look over and went to pick up his knife. 

“enough for today,” he grumbled, a tensing sense of aggravation filling the air. 

you straightened your clothes out, walking back onto the mat. “so that’s it?”

ghost turned in a way that made it look like he was forcing his body to move. “need me t’tell you how good of a job you did? pat you on your back and tell ya you’re gonna be fine next week?”

you glared at him. “no. i just–”

“you won’t. you’re gonna get yourself killed out there.” you sucked in a sharp breath at his words. you watched as his eyes avoided your own. “be back here tomorrow to train more with soap.”

you nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. he hesitated another moment, almost like he was debating on saying something else, but then he turned and left you alone. 

you sank down onto the mat, sprawling out backward and breathing deeply. your body was sore and throbbing from all the collisions you took today. 

fuck. you had one chance to prove to ghost you were capable. that price trusting you to come along was the right choice. but you just made a fool of yourself. and ghost thought you nothing more than a weak link in their unit. you were going to get them all killed. 

you closed your eyes, a tear sliding down your sweat-stained cheeks.

chapter 4 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

[kaciebello]

Sibling rivals, sibling allies

Masterlist

Nico Di Angelo x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Nico was aware his sibling loved him, to the point that lectures were inevitable. Warning: Angst, Siblings written by an only child, no use of y/n Author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I am not very good at angst so I hope I did this some justice. I also tried to make it gender-neutral as the request did not specify, however, this is my first time writing like that so I am sorry if I missed anything. All right to the artist of the fanart, I could not find them, but if you do, let me know and I will tag them.  Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) request: Yes word count: 1,3k Song: Lean on - Major Lazer ( ft. MØ, DJ Snake )

 Sibling rivalry was something everyone expected when having more than one child. And who especially expected it were the Greek gods. They even encouraged it. Sadly, for Hades, his children got along and refused to fight each other.

Usually, Nico would play mythomagic with them or just lazily exist in the camp. Only a few people would talk to him. But he is used to it now. That's why he was confused when they ran into the Hades cabin and suggested training with said two. He agreed nonetheless, not wanting to disappoint his last older sibling, and he also thought Percy was okay-ish.

That is why he was standing in the area, watching them absolutely beat Percy's ass. Annabeth was standing beside him but did not look very happy about what was happening. He can't blame her, he would not be either if the roles were reversed. Also, the Hades children weren't really known for their good temper, so it made sense.

So when Percy tapped out, he wasn't surprised. However, the girl next to him made her way to help her friend up.

“Close your mouth, flies gonna take it as an invite.” They said, slightly tapping his chin to close it. Nico glared at them but did not argue. they were covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Nico was sure it was from the sun, not the fight, as he dubs Percy would give it much. If anything they more likely only tickled each other with swords. Although he was warned, that activity can cause accidental stab wounds and immediate visit to the infirmary.

The other two campers joined them. Percy bleeding from his scratches and Annabeth frowns on her face. He knew it was his turn now. That's what they agreed on. He did not think putting him, a child of one of the 3, against Annabeth was fair. Granted, were it a few months back when he thought he had a crush on her, before releasing he had a crush on Percy, it would have been harder to fight her.

“Come on whip, it's our turn.” Says Annabeth and gestures her knives at him. Nico can only tighten his hold on the sword he was holding. He takes a few steps to face her.

“Annabeth.” Sounds behind him warningly. The girl in question just huffs before charging at him. He moved out of the way, but it was like she already knew his steps before him and stuck him in the leg.

He winced but kept on his feet. She charges again, but this time he manages to avoid and block her from sighting him. Annabeth did not like that. Not only she was a fast thinker, but Nico would also forget she had been trained by Luke, one of the best swordsmen in the last couple of hundred years. Annabeth strikes again and Nico has no time to even register what is going on. She slashes his Achilles. Nico yelps and falls, having no strength to put weight on his leg. Annabeth manages to get hold of his sword. She was not standing above him with the tip of his sword at his throat.

“Get up,” she says with a sinister smile. He won't admit it but he was scared for a moment. That was before Annabeth got slammed by his sibling and rolled away. Percy yelped in surprise and went to help Annabeth while the siblings helped each other. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Argued Annabeth once she regained her composure.

“You immobilized him! What the fuck do you mean get up!” His sibling yelled still kneeling next to him. Nico has sat up now, trying to move his leg but when pain shot up he decided against it.

“Monsters are not gonna hold back just because he can't stand!” Annabeth was now making her way to them. Percy was trying to stop her but was very unsuccessful.

“Monster my ass Annabeth. You knew very well what-” A roar cuts her off. All of them freeze in their spots. A rustling in the trees got their attention. A distant yell is what got them moving. Nico felt four arms lifting him.

His sibling and Annabeth were trying their best to get his limping ass away from whatever there was. Percy was surveying the area when he saw it.

“Fuck.” Was all that left him. there stood, an automatic bull, as big as the house. All of their eyes widened as they tried to hurry up. unfortunately, the bull has seen them and charged at them. Nico could feel his weight bearing but only on Annabeth as his sibling went to aid Percy in trying to distract the beast. He wanted to stop them, but he was no use at the moment.

Annabeth stops and props Nico on a tree.

“What are you doing?” He hisses and she just rolls her eyes.

“I'm going to help them.” She says making sure Nico is comfortable.

“You can't leave me here.” Nico could see that she took that as a challenge. before she could leave him however they both heard Percy yell. turning their attention to him they can see a giant boulder heading their way. Nico makes eye contact with his sibling before he feels something tackling him on the ground.

“NICO” Was all he heard before the world became black.

 When Nico came to his senses, he thought that perhaps, Dad pulled him aside, that maybe travelledow travelled. And Brehabs a small hope of seeing Bianca was there. However, when he heard his sibling absolutely destroying their vocal cords from the yelling, he knew he was mistaken.

Opening his eyes, above him stood a well-known Apollo kid, his name was Will or something like that. The light from his hands makes Nico turn his face away and to the side. Only to be faced with a comic view. Annabeth sitting on a bed having her hand looked after by a different Apollo kid. Percy is next to her, holding her other hand. And his sibling, going off on both of them, mostly Annabeth by the looks of it.  Annabeth's head was hung low, it was apparent that she got an earful from Percy beforehand.

Nico is enjoying the situation. Not only is he not getting reprimanded, but he is also getting taken care of by a cute guy. His freedom is shored, however, as Percy nudges the other Hades kid and points to him.

His sibling turns to him at lightning speed, when they see he's awake, they rush to him kneeling by the bed. He can see they are worried even when all of them are out of immediate danger. When they saw he was okay they jumped in for a hug. Will jumped back startled and Nico could only groan in pain. Letting him go just as quickly as they hugged him

“Sorry, I just. I just thought I would have to bargain with Dad.” They say with a smile on their face. Although tears were streaming down their faces making them look a little bit hysterical.

Nico smiled at them.

“I'm fine, I did not even see Dad.” He says, trying to reassure them that he in fact did not die and came back. They just chuckled and nodded.

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Annabeth with Percy walked up to his bed.

“I'm sorry.” She says. Nico expected her to continue but she didn't. So Nico just nodded, taking in that they were all still startled by what happened.

Next to him, his sibling stood up. It was like a switch turned in in them. Manually they made both Percy and Annabeth sit down at the end of his bed. They took a deep breath before starting.

“I am lost for words!...”

And despite being lost for words, they continue to yell at them for the next 45 minutes. Nico would not want it any other way.

Tag: thefallensacrifice

#nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #heros of olympus x reader #heros of olympus #pjo fandom #fanfic #gn reader #fanfic fluff #fluff headcanons #Nico Di Angelo x sibling reader #pjo nico #nico pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #pjo series #child of hades #lgbt #bianca di angelo #di angelo siblings #diangelosibling!reader #diangelo!siblingreader #pjo #x reader #bianca di angelo x reader #siblings #platonic x reader

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 7 - 50-50 Grind

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Taglist

Pairing:Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: We get into the mind of Choso and find that his cool, calm demeanor may be nothing more than an illusion when it comes to reader.

Warning: Smut, Oral Sex (reader receiving), Oral Sex (reader giving), Choso being super sweet, Choso being super nasty, Cumshot, Oral Cumshot, Cum Swallowing, Very Slight Cumplay (Choso), Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob

Suguru Art: YuOekk

Choso Art: @DmD_0_03

A/N: Chileeee THE WRITER'S BLOCK THE WRITER'S BLOCK!!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!! I hope everyone had an amazing (and safe) new year! In 2023, I'm going to try not to lie so much about when I'll be updating so instead, I just won't say anything! DLFKJSDKF

Enjoy the new year and this new chapter!

The sounds of cash registers beeping and patrons conversing amongst themselves fills the air. It’s busy this afternoon in the supermarket. It’s a good thing. Choso enjoys company, enjoys the normalcy of simply shopping for groceries. He doesn’t get the opportunity to do it much during competition season and he doesn’t particularly mind the hustle and bustle. Even though he draws attention to himself with his face tattoos and tired eyes, he finds comfort in being around people.

Choso glances down at his phone, the way too long shopping list nearly making his eyes cross as he reads through. You’re coming over for dinner with Choso and his brothers tomorrow night and apparently everything on this list is absolutely essential (according to Yuji). He grabs a few carrots as listed from the vegetable display, tucking them away into a bag before placing them in the basket hanging from his arm. He moves on to look at the herbs noted on his phone. He’s not exactly sure what all of these ingredients will become. He’s not the one cooking dinner– Yuji is. 

He’d volunteered out of sheer excitement. 

“Choso’s bringing someone home?! That never happens,” Yuji teases. He’s stretched out on the floor in the living room as he reads through a manga.

“Will you ever just call me big brother?” Choso sulks on the couch. “It hurts my feelings when you just call me by my name.”

Yuji ignores him. “What’s she like?!”

“Really sweet. Pretty too. Like, really pretty. She photographs for a skate magazine. That’s how we met.”

“Wow! She seems so cool.”

“She is.”

“I’m so excited! Oh! I’m gonna cook! I’ve been wanting to try this new recipe out.”

Choso smiles, thinking about you. He thinks you’re beautiful, smart, funny and talented. Your photos surprise him whenever you let him get a peek. How can you make a simple trick he’s seen done hundreds of times look different and better every time? You’re passionate. He likes that about you. A lot.

The only thing about you that Choso dislikes is the dead weight attached to you named Suguru Geto. He tries really hard not to let it bother him, but he doesn’t get it. At first, he didn’t mind so much. When you’d told him about your little “situationship” with Suguru, that didn’t matter to him. He’s never been the jealous type anyway. But the more Choso got to know you, the more Suguru’s presence in your life began to irk him. 

How was he to know he’d end up feeling this way? He had no idea of knowing how serious he’d become about you. Or how quickly he’d become serious about you. He figured you’d come to your senses sooner or later, see who the better choice was. But Suguru was still sticking around like an annoying rash you couldn’t get rid of. 

But he won’t get into that with Yuji right now.

“She’s great. I’m excited for you all to meet her. Hopefully everyone is on their best behavior,” Choso murmurs, face serious.

The slight warning in Choso’s tone makes Yuji sit up. “Hey! Eso’s the asshole. Worry about him. Me and Kechizu will be sooooo nice.”

Choso nods, a small smile playing on his lips. “Okay, good. I’m really nervous so that’s good to hear.”

Choso was glad Yuji volunteered to cook since he loves doing it so much. Otherwise, he’d be ordering takeout. Kechizu talks too much and spits when he speaks, so he was banned from cooking a long time ago. Eso sweats so much, Choso fears he’s eaten the strange smelly goop that forms on his back at some point in time. He was banned, too. Choso can’t cook to save his life, so he sticks to making money, ordering food and keeping a roof over everyone’s head. It’s only when Yuji came to live with them, that the brothers had experienced a real home cooked meal.

It was delicious. And while Choso doesn’t insist Yuji makes dinner often, Yuji enjoys doing so. Choso appreciates that his baby brother uses his cooking skills as a way to bring the family together when time permits.

He sighs as his eyes scan over the items in the shopping basket. He’s almost finished, which is a relief to him. He wants to get back home to clean up for tomorrow. He hopes the dinner goes well, that you like his brothers and that his brothers like you.

After grabbing the last ingredient on the list, Choso waits in the checkout line to pay. He wonders what you’re doing. You’ve been busy since the last time he saw you. Today, you had plans so he would actually have to wait until tomorrow to see you. 

Didn’t mean he couldn’t call you, though.

He pulls his phone from his pants, dials your number and lets it ring. You answer on the fourth.

“Hey,” you answer sweetly. He can hear the familiar sound of wheels skidding and slamming against the pavement. You must be out shooting.

“Hey, babe. I was just calling to talk for a minute. I’m at the store right now getting stuff for tomorrow. Wanted to see what you’re up to.”

There’s some rustling on your end and then it’s quiet for a bit. Choso waits patiently. You’re probably trying to get away from the ruckus.

“Sorry, it was a little loud,” you tell him. “I just finished up a shoot at one of the parks. Packing up and then I’m going to grab lunch with Suguru.”

Choso ignores the tightness in his chest from hearing his name. “Oh. Sounds fun.”

“Yeah, but I’m so tired. I’ve been out all morning so I won’t be out too long. I’ll probably go straight home after.”

“With him?” Choso blurts out before he can stop himself. He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose because he probably sounds so fucking pathetic now. Worrying about you going home with a man you were seeing long before you’d met him; a man who you were open and honest about still having feelings for, still seeing. A man Choso said it was okay for you to continue seeing while you got to know each other. 

Even so, he can’t help the nagging feeling of jealousy.

“No? Just me…” You’re quiet for a moment before you ask, “Are you okay?” He can hear you zipping your bags. You’ll be leaving the park soon...with Suguru. He doesn’t want to ruin your time out with friends and…him. Well, he does want to ruin your time out with friends and him, but Choso likes to think he’s a little more mature than that. So he does what any mature jealous person does – He lies.

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

The cashier waves Choso forward and he sets his basket on to the checkout belt.

“You just never really ask about Suguru…I was just wondering if you’re alright.”

Choso hardly asks about Suguru because he doesn’t want to hear about Suguru. Although at some point in time he told you he was willing to wait for you to come to your senses, he sometimes wonders if you ever will.

Choso enjoys going with the flow. He’s chill, avoids drama the best he can. He’s laid back. But that doesn’t make him an idiot. He knows your history with Suguru. And he gets it…sort of. A year is a long time to have your feelings toyed with. To be dragged along for the ride, constantly pulled close only to be pushed away. 

From what Choso knows, it was less about building a relationship with you and all about the sex for Suguru. But for you…you wanted so much more from him and he didn’t want to give that to you. At least, not until Choso entered the picture. It seemed suddenly the asshole had finally opened his eyes and realized how good you were. That, or he was trying to keep you from realizing you deserved better than him. Choso would bet on the latter.

Because how could Suguru have not seen it in the first place? How could he have not chosen to give you more when you’d asked the first time?

Choso thinks Suguru’s a fucking idiot, an actual monkey.

Actually, Choso’s pretty sure a monkey is smarter than Suguru at this point. Of course, he doesn’t voice this to you. You’ve got history with Suguru, no matter how shitty. He’s still the new guy in your life and he likes you a lot. He doesn’t want to ruin anything.

But fuck, he wishes you’d open your eyes to how much of a piece of shit Suguru is.

It’s easy enough for Choso to give Suguru zero energy when they’re in the same area together. It’s not like they had much communication with each other before, if any. Now it seemed Choso couldn’t escape him.

“Choso?”

“Sir?”

The cashier’s voice and yours pull him back to the present at the same time. The cashier points to the screen, the total waiting to be paid.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly to both you and the cashier. “Um, I have to go, baby. Text me later?”

“Sure. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Cool, uh…have fun.”

He ends the call, pocketing his phone and taking his wallet out so he can pay and get out of the way. He takes his receipt from the cashier before grabbing the bag of groceries and exiting the store.

----------

The next evening finds Choso frantically setting up the table for dinner. You’d be here at any moment and he wants the place to look perfect. Unfortunately, Eso and Kechizu got called into work so it would only be you, Choso and Yuji for dinner. Probably for the best. He loves his brothers, but they can be a bit much all at once. Better not to get Eso worked up anyway. The entire house would smell.

Choso’s got a bouquet of roses in a new vase in the center of the table. Yuji’s idea. He’s not sure when or how his little brother became such a romantic, but he’s grateful for any tips.

Choso doesn’t date much, doesn’t have time for it. It’s not that he’s not interested in finding someone, but his lifestyle keeps him so busy, it’s hard to find someone understanding enough to tolerate it. And then he met you. You work in his field (sort of) and you’re just as busy if not more. You understand that travel is a part of his job and there will be times when he’s unavailable. You’re patient when he’s unavailable for long periods of time. You’re what he wants in a partner in all honesty.

Yuji brings the food over and begins plating the two plates sitting next to each other. He’s so fancy in his little apron; like a real chef. Choso wonders if he gets his love and talent for cooking from his side of the family. Probably, since Choso and all of his brothers can’t cook.

The doorbell rings indicating your arrival.

“Oh, she’s here!” He exclaims, rushing back to the kitchen to put the pans away as Choso heads to the door. He swings the door open, unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees you. 

Damn, he missed you. 

You’re standing there, all smiles too, in a cute little dress that hugs you in all the right places. You look incredible. It gets the usual reaction from Choso that he has to go above and beyond to hide any time he’s around you – a subtle, persistent throbbing between his legs. It takes a lot for him not to blatantly stare.

Instead, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey babe,” he greets you, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you inside.

“Hey,” you say back, gifting Choso with a shy smile.

“You look great.”

“Thank you.”

Choso’s lips are on yours as soon as the door shuts, arms looping around your waist to pull you closer. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him forward to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth to him and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your teeth and press the soft muscle against yours. You both stand in the entryway, lips slotting against each other, Choso’s hands gliding up and down your back as he holds you close. When you moan softly into his mouth, that throbbing between his legs grows and he reluctantly breaks the kiss.

You peer up at him through your lashes, so fucking pretty it only makes the throbbing grow almost painful. So he turns away from you if only to calm himself down. It’s always like this with you. It feels like someone is playing a cruel and twisted joke on him, because he told you he had no issue waiting for sex. And he doesn’t. But fuck, you always look so good, smell so sweet. It’s hard for him to not want to break his little rule.

Choso takes a deep breath before his hand finds yours again, leading you into the apartment.

“It smells great in here,” you comment. “I’m so excited to meet your brothers.”

“Just brother. Eso and Kechizu had to work unfortunately, but Yuji is here,” Choso explains. “He actually cooked tonight.”

“Really?! Can’t wait to try it!”

When you get to the dining area, Choso pulls your seat out for you so you can sit down. It’s only as Yuji emerges from the kitchen that Choso notices the third placemat and dining set is now missing. Yuji beams when he sees you, coming to sit in the seat across from you.

“Hi! I’m Yuji.”

You introduce yourself to Yuji as well, smiling when Yuji proceeds to tell you how much Choso talks about you and how happy he looks lately. He showers you with compliments on your looks and Choso wonders where the hell all this charm came from. Certainly not from Choso’s side of the family. 

“Thank you, Yuji. You’re so sweet. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Your brother talks about you all the time.”

Yuji rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance. “He’s just a little obsessed.”

You laugh, because you’d agree. Choso loves his brothers more than anything in this world. It’s obvious. But it’s adorable. Something you really like about him.

“He just really cares about you. That’s all.”

“You’re not eating with us?” Choso asks suddenly, probably sounding a lot more disappointed about it than he intended.

Yuji smiles sadly. “Sorry, big bro. Nobara and Fushiguro invited me out while I was cooking. I didn’t want to say anything before but…” he looks between you and Choso. “If I had to choose between third wheeling with my friends or you two, I’m gonna choose them.”

Choso doesn’t miss how Yuji just so happens to use the nickname he’s always begging his little brother to call him. It’s his weak spot and Yuji knows it, knows he’ll get away with anything as long as he calls Choso his big bro. 

Choso nods. “Have fun. Don’t stay out too late or I’ll send Eso to get you.”

Yuji scowls, muttering about how embarrassing Eso is before he stands. His expression shifts into a grin and he claps his hands together. “I really put my all into this dinner so I hope you both enjoy! Eat it while it’s hot! It was nice meeting you.”

“You, too, Yuji. Have fun with your friends.”

The front door closes shortly after. Choso sighs, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” he frowns. “I said you’d meet my brothers and all plans fell through.”

You reach a hand forward and cup Choso’s face, your thumb gently caressing over the tattooed line on that side. “Choso, it’s okay. As long as I get to spend time with you, I don’t mind.”

Choso beams, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “You’re too good to me.”

You shake your head. “You’re too good to me.”

----------

Dinner goes well. The food is spectacular. Choso can’t wait to tell Yuji how much you enjoyed the food. You and Choso in deep discussion while washing dishes together about the third Cheetah Girls movie and why it’s your least favorite, save for a few songs. It’s oddly domestic. He has many opinions on the breakup of the group, but promises to save that discussion for later. 

Choso talks about his competitions, you congratulating him on how well he’s been doing. It makes his cheeks burn red with embarrassment and happiness all at the same time. He offers to show you his trophies once you’re finished cleaning up and you happily accept the invitation. 

After drying the last dish, Choso leads you to his bedroom to show you some of his favorite competition wins. They line the built-in wall shelves. Choso grabs the trophy he’d won at the televised event where he’d essentially confessed to you on live tv from the shelf. 

You take a seat on the edge of Choso’s bed, as he wanders over with it. He watches as you bring your arms above your head, stretching your back and Choso has to turn his gaze away from you briefly. You make the most mundane actions look so enticing and it drives him crazy how much he wants you. He wants more than just kisses, more than just holding hands.

Choso clears his throat before he turns his gaze back to you and holds the trophy up. “I think this one’s my favorite,” he tells you. “For obvious reasons.”

You smile bashfully. “I think that’s my favorite, too.”

He places the trophy back in its spot before he crosses the room again and sits next to you on his bed, leaning back to prop himself up on his elbows. You place your hand on Choso’s thigh, patting lightly and his bodily response is immediate, the earlier throbbing now making its presence known again. Choso sits up quickly, clearing his throat.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and you nod, closing the distance with an “of course” before your lips are on his. The hand on his thigh runs gently along the length of his quad, making his breaths come a little more rapidly with each kiss. Choso’s large hand comes up to grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. It’s hungry, all tongue and soft sighs into each other's mouths as your lips caress.

When you finally pull away, Choso finds himself chasing your lips with a quiet whimper. 

“Thank you so much for dinner, Choso. Everything was great and I had a really good time,” you tell him.

Choso leans forward, presses his forehead to yours. “You sound like you’re about to head out.”

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you whisper and there’s a hint of sadness in your voice.

“Baby,” he mutters softly. “You could never.” He ghosts his lips over yours, placing soft pecks to the corners of your mouth. “Stay as long as you want. I like having you here.”

“Choso…” you breathe against him, the hand on his thigh squeezing gently. “If I stay…” 

He trails kisses along your jaw, featherlight, so soft you can barely feel it. And yet, your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath. “If you stay?”

You sigh, pulling back. You’re no doubt trying to change the subject with some excuse to run out of here. “I’m just really tired. Prepping for this shoot has been draining the shit out of me. Tonight has been amazing. I just don’t want to bring the mood down with how stressed I am.”

Choso hums, nodding, eyes now fixed on the spot where your hand rests. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

The pause is long as he awaits your answer, the heat of your hand radiating through the fabric of Choso’s pants and making the throbbing between his legs even worse, if possible. You watch Choso closely, eyes following where his dark orbs are focused on.

“I don’t know…” you mutter softly, fingers lightly squeezing Choso’s thigh. He bites back the low groan threatening to escape. His gaze drifts up to your glossed lips. 

“Well, how do you usually relieve stress?” Choso asks, the heat quickly pooling in his center as your hand coasts along his thigh.

You give him a knowing look, biting down on your bottom lip. He understands.

“I have an idea,” He responds quietly, shifting on the bed.

“What’s your idea?”

He wants to kiss you again, feel your mouth against his. He always wants to kiss you. Ever since he met you, it’s been all he’s done. Of course Choso wants to do more with you. He fantasizes about it. But he told you he’d wait for you to make a choice first. He didn’t want to make you feel like he only wanted sex from you, the way he made you feel.

But, while sex isn’t the only thing he wants, he does want it. When he sees the tip of your pink tongue dart out to swipe across your bottom lip, he can only hope you’re both thinking the same thing.

“I want you,” he blurts out, unable to hold back his honesty.

“Choso…” you sigh his name and it only makes him want you more. “ I want you, too.”

“I know I said there’s no rush for sex, but it doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.”

You bite your lip again, eyes searching Choso’s. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, but for purely selfish reasons if I’m being honest.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion.

“Making you feel good will make me feel good,” he explains.

You nod, giving Choso the green light. “Okay.” 

He scoots back to lay on his bed, pulling you along with him. “Come here, baby,” he coaxes as he lays down on his back. His hands find your hips, positioning you so that you’re straddling his chest.

“Closer,” Choso says, his thumbs tracing circles on your hips.

“Okay,” you murmur, scooting forward until your plush thighs are on either side of his head. His hands slide down your hips, to the hem of your dress that’s already ridden up enough that Choso can catch a peek of your panties.

“Can I?” He asks, pinching the hem of the fabric between his fingers.

“Yes, Choso,” you pant in anticipation.

He peels your dress up, getting a full view of your core. Your panties hug your pussy so nicely, a small wet spot from your arousal forming right in the center. Choso wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs, have you crying out his name over and over, give you everything you want and more. But instead he turns his head to the side and presses a tender kiss to the inside of one of your thighs, then turns his head to do the same to the other. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes Choso pause.

“Is this okay?”

You nod, your hand coming down to comb your fingers through his hair. It makes him shiver, makes his cock stiffen further. “It’s fine. I’m fine, Choso. Make me feel good.”

Fuck, the reassurance only makes him harder, lets him know he doesn’t need to hold back anymore. But he still nods, wraps his arms around your lush thighs, squeezing softly. 

He kisses your thighs again, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a soft peck directly to that dark little wet spot. He chuckles when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh. 

“You’re so pretty like this, baby,” he kisses your center again. “All for me,” he mutters against your undergarments.

Choso pulls back, eyes locked to that sweet spot spreading along the fabric of your panties when he whispers a soft, “Let me take care of you,” and then he’s pulling you down by your thighs, meeting you halfway to latch his hot mouth directly onto your clothed pussy. 

A mixture of your moans and Choso’s fill the room, the vibrations shooting straight to your clit. You gasp, rolling your hips forward to grind yourself against Choso’s face, a soft moan rushing past your lips. He lets you ride his tongue, his saliva soaking through the fabric. You taste incredible and he hasn’t even truly experienced you yet. 

“Oh my god,” you whine before Choso halts your movements with his hands. He runs his tongue over your panties, long and slow, his hips bucking into the air when the fingers in his hair tighten into a fist, your other hand finding purchase on his headboard. He presses his nose into the center of your panties and inhales deeply, eyes rolling to the back of his head when your sweet aroma fills his senses.

“Fuck, I bet this pussy tastes so good without this in the way.”

You whimper above Choso as he hooks a finger into your panties and pulls them to the side, groaning softly when he finally gets a good look at your cunt, glistening with the mixture of your slick and his saliva. It’s prettier than he could’ve ever imagined. He wants a taste.

His free hand squeezes your thigh lightly just as Choso pushes his tongue between your folds and runs a hot, languid lick up your core. He feels your body shudder above him, his own body following when he finally gets a full taste of you. He gives your clit a small lick before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly, unable to keep his hips from thrusting up again when you gasp above him. He moans, the vibration leaving you panting.

“Shit! So good, Choso, that’s so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit until you’re grinding your own hips down on him.

“Yes, yes, yes! Don’t stop.”

He groans, hands squeezing your thighs to spread them further open for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over until you’re a whimpering mess above him. You taste better than he could’ve ever imagined – saccharinely sweet. He pulls you forward, your hips bucking when his tongue slips into your entrance. He can feel your walls clench in response, groaning when your knees tighten on each side of his head. 

The grip in his hair loosens, your other arm shooting up to grab hold of the headboard with both hands to keep from falling over. Choso thrusts his tongue into your hole, moaning when he feels you moving your hips on your own, fucking yourself on his mouth. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cry out.

Choso pulls out of your hole, moving his mouth to wrap his soft lips around your clit again, sucking hard. 

"Oh, Choso," you mewl, the new sensation making your grip on the headboard loosen, falling forward onto your hands. The new position gives Choso much better access, his hands letting go of your thighs to cup your ass. With one hand, he spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your sopping hole.

“Fuuuuuck,” Choso moans into your cunt when he feels your tight pussy clench down on his fingers. He loves making you feel good, having you moaning and whining but, goddamn, he’s so hard, he’s thrusting into the air, trying and failing to find any sort of friction. It’s torturous. He can feel his erection, painful and sticky in his pants. He’ll definitely have to take care of himself after you’re gone.

Choso curls his fingers, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head.

“You close?” He asks before pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit just as he curls his digits inside you again. 

You don’t even get a chance to answer him, your hands tugging his sheets as they ball into fists. The only sounds that can be heard are your hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Choso’s face along with the lewd slurping of Choso’s mouth as he laps up your release. You’re coming undone, walls clenching around his fingers, as your body spasms with your orgasm.

And Choso waits, pumping his fingers into you and gently licking through your folds until he finally feels you relax above him. He pulls his digits out of you, placing a soft kiss to your swollen cunt before he pulls your panties back into place and helps you scoot down his torso until you’re seated on his groin. 

You’re watching him close, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, pupils blown with desire. Choso brings his fingers up to his face, spreading and closing them like a pair of scissors, watching the sticky strings of your slick spread between them. His eyes stay locked with yours as he opens his mouth and slides his fingers in, wrapping his lips around them and sucking them clean. He lets them go with a loud pop.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groans, his hips coming up to grind against your ass.

Your head cocks to the side when you feel his hardness against you. “Looks like you need someone to make you feel good, too.” You suggest, leaning forward to place sweet kisses down Choso’s cheek, his neck and chest. You kiss all the way down his abs and the fire in Choso’s belly grows as you get closer to your destination. 

He watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his pants and pull them off. He moans when you lean forward and press those pretty fucking lips to his throbbing, clothed cock and it’s involuntary, the way his hips come up on reflex. 

He groans quietly, watching your lips curl up in a small smirk. You already know the effect you have on him without doing much at all. Minx.

Your eyes lock with Choso’s, hands finding the waistband of his boxers right before you press another hot and tender kiss to his core, Choso’s back arching at the contact.

“Fuck.” 

Keep doing that and he’s going to cum in his pants. At this moment he wouldn’t mind. It would be a welcome relief. He’d just have to hope you’d understand if it came to that. You’re just so sexy; a seductress when you want to be. How could he not blow his load when he’s got the perfect view of you right now settled between his legs? Face down, ass up in the air, back arched so he can see those beautiful round cheeks of yours. He kind of regrets opting for not going all the way tonight because he’d love to feel that little pussy contract around his dick like it just did on his tongue not that long ago.

The thought makes his cock jump within the confines of his underwear.

Gaze still glued to Choso’s, you tug lightly at the waistband of his boxers before your soft voice asks, “Can I?”

He doesn’t think about it for a second.

“Do whatever you want,” he tilts his hips up, letting you slide his boxers off for him. “It’s yours, baby.”

His cock springs free with a loud smack against his lower belly. It’s long, thick, with a large vein running right up the underside until it reaches the angry red tip. The entire length is sticky, precum slathered over it. You settle yourself between his legs again as you take in the sight of him exposed to you.

“I want to make you feel good, too.”

You take his length into your mouth before he can argue, your lips closing around the head. “Ah– shit,” Choso grunts, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. From here, Choso thinks he has the perfect view of you. It turns him on beyond measure and he jerks his hips forward, shoving his cock further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Sorry, fuck. I’m sorry.” He moans, pulling out of your mouth.

You shake your head, waving off his concern. “It’s okay, Choso. I like it.”

You’re back on his dick, humming when Choso fills the cavern of your mouth, the vibrations making him shiver. His hand finds the back of your head again, Choso rolling his hips up so he can shove his cock down your throat again, over and over. And you take it so good, relaxing your throat for him so it’s easy. 

“Your mouth feels amazing,” Choso grunts, pumping into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your chin makes his eyes roll back, a pleasure shooting straight up his spine.

It feels so fucking good. Too fucking good.

Yeah, he’s not going to last very long here.

You release his dick, running your tongue along that vein on the underside of his cock, pulling a string of curses from Choso. You lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit of his cock with your tongue, lapping up the bead of precum that sits there. 

"Fuck!"

You kiss down the length of his dick, bringing your attention to his balls, running your tongue right between the two orbs before bringing one into your mouth and sucking. Your hand wraps around Choso’s length, stroking him up and down.

A liquid heat pools in Choso’s core, the threat of his orgasm quickly approaching. He doesn’t want to cum yet. He’s been wanting this for a long time, to be intimate in more ways than just kissing and cuddling. It feels way too good. He wants to savor this. But damn, if you keep going like this–

You wrap your lips around Choso’s cock, taking his entire length in your mouth in one motion. The sudden tight warmth makes Choso’s back arch, has his hands flying to the back of your head to hold you in place.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Don’t move, baby,” he pants, holding your face to his groin so he can fuck your throat. And then you open your throat for him, relaxing for just a moment before you constrict around his cock and the sensation that shoots through Choso’s dick makes him pull you back. You let go with an obnoxious pop as Choso grabs the base of his dick.

He can’t stave it off, not when he sees your swollen lips, your tear stained cheeks, the line of drool dangling from your chin.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t. I’m–I’m gonna cum,” he warns.

You lean forward, opening your mouth, tongue hanging out in invitation. “Give it to me, Choso. I want your cum, baby. Gimme all of it.”

God, you’re so fucking sexy.

He feels his balls tighten, feels the rush in the palm of his hand as he pumps his cock, his free  hand coming to hold the back of your head in position before thick, hot spurts of his cum shoot from the tip and paint your tongue white with his seed.

“Oh god,” he groans through gritted teeth. He keeps pumping, watching as you quickly put your tongue back in your mouth and swallow before you stick it back out for him. It’s so much cum and you take it all, swallowing without him even asking you to. Even wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking so you don’t waste a drop. 

“You’re so good to me,” Choso whispers when he’s finally emptied his load on your tongue.  Breaths coming rapidly, he watches you climb along the length of his body until you’re face to face. He can smell his release on your breath, and then he’s tasting it when you press an open mouthed kiss to his lips, moaning when he tastes the mixture of his release and yours on his tongue.

“Thank you,” you say after breaking the kiss. “I feel a lot better now.”

Choso chuckles, running his hands along your spine. “Good. Me, too.”

----------

You’re both sitting in the bath Choso has run for you, Choso positioned behind you as he gently lathers your shoulders. You’ll be heading home after this, but Choso wanted to treat you to more relaxation before you left. He also wanted an excuse to spend more time with you because the next time he’d see you would likely be the photoshoot. And as exciting as that was, he had a nagging feeling things would be tense.

“In all seriousness, how are you feeling now?” Choso asks, gently splashing water over your shoulders to rinse the soap off. Your hands swirl the bubbles around in the bath.

“Better. Still a little stressed, but that’s to be expected with everything that goes into prepping for these shoots. Then there’s you and Suguru…”

You cut yourself off.

“What about us?”

“I’m just worried how it’ll go with you both there.”

Choso nods in understanding. He quietly mulls over his thoughts. 

“You and Suguru haven’t really been around each other for long periods of time before. These shoots take hours and I just don’t want things to be weird between you two.”

“Did you have this talk with Suguru, too?” He questions, curiously. He should really be the one you're worried.

You nod, leaning back against Choso’s chest. “Of course. He’s the one I’m most worried about causing a scene…That was why we went to lunch together the other day –  to talk about this. He’s really not good with his emotions, but he promised to behave. Said he’s working on accepting that he’s not my only priority anymore.”

Choso chuckles, placing a light kiss to the back of your neck. “Oh? Who else has your attention? Should I be jealous?”

You laugh lightly. “Please. You don’t strike me as the jealous type.”

‘You don’t know me very well, then,’ Choso thinks.

The fact that Suguru gets even a crumb of your undeserved attention drives Choso insane. You’re a toy to him, something for him to keep in his back pocket when he’s bored and needs something to preoccupy his time. He’s not sure how you don’t see it. You’ve mistaken familiarity and comfort with love. It makes sense after suffering through Suguru’s antics for so long. 

All this time, Choso’s been passive, playing the long game while Suguru makes an ass of himself time and time again, hoping you’ll see him for the piece of shit he is. But nothing changes. Choso watches and waits, just going with the flow until you finally come to your senses and make the right choice – him. But nothing changes.

Choso leans down, burying his nose in your hair before he places a sweet kiss to your temple.

He won’t sit back anymore.

In this moment of relaxation before everything goes to shit, Choso wraps his arms around you and he decides it’s time to fight.

Tags: @eiflawriting @mimiszworld @mighty-luna @re-dd0 @k4zuhasleaf @nekonanamiiii @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300 @sukunasseventhfinger @mykyoon @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @OUTTHEBASEMENTNAE @alpacapum @cherribxio @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @510hz

#jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x y/n #jealousy #jjk x #getou smut #getou x reader #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto fanfic #suguru geto fic #suguru smut #suguru jjk #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #anime x reader #anime smut

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL yoongi / suga / agust d (teaser)

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. Hope the teaser catchers your attention! Let me know if you want to be in the tag list.

Blood was pumping threw your body with speed that seemed to be at hundreds miles per hour. The dizziness that came from all the adrenalin was slowly creeping up your brain. Your heart tried to climb out threw your now completely dry throat. You still couldn’t fathom how in the world you turned out to be naive and blind enough to find yourself in this damn situation.

The fact that the person who dragged you into all of this was standing petrified and held at gunpoint, was not making it any easier. The tall and well built male whom others referred to as Joon was staring you down while holding his silver piece close to Jungkooks head. “You better not try some bullshit bitch!” he snarled angrily. His gaze was locked onto your back. You could swear you felt the heat of his eyes burning threw your skin.

You were sweaty, your hair was messy and stuck to your forehead. While elbows deep in blood you tried to stop the hemorrhaging. The long haired male laying in front of you with horrific wounds was getting paler by the minute. You were smart enough to figure out he most likely was the boss of this whole group of questionable men.

“He needs a fucking hospital!” a hoarse scream flew out of your lips while you were desperately trying to stop the blood. At this point you felt it was almost overflowing the whole abdominal cavity.

The brunette moved up and took his gun away from your colleges head just to put it to your temple. The coldness of the metal sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed the dry ball forming in your mouth. You were slowly out of ideas. This was not a place for dealing with such wounds. In your mind you knew the young man should be on an operating table with blood bags hanging already. “I said no fucking hospitals!” the roared words snapped you back to reality and pierced threw you like an arrow.

“No way in hell am I gonna pull this shit off” you thought to yourself almost giving up. You were at the point of exhaustion you slowly stoped to care if you got shot or not. In all honesty you were slowly shitting yourself, the scenario of this whole fucked up deal was staring to hit you hard. Not only was some thugs life on the line but so was yours and your friends. The same damn friend who got you into this predicament in the first place.

As much as you wanted to rip Kooks stupid head right off his shoulders, you knew you had to focus on the task. It was the only way out of there. You closed your eyes trying to forget about the cold sting coming from the weapon that was painfully pushed against your scull.

Exhaling threw your nose loudly you suddenly thought of something. It was brutal but you had to try. “Get me salt!” you finally spat out. “Are you fucking crazy?!” one of the men standing at the door growled. He was shorter and of a lighter built but still had something about him that made your skin crawl. All of them made you feel extremely uneasy and wonder if you were gonna die even if you end up saving their main man. You saw them. You knew their faces and location. Were they really gonna let you walk out of there breathing?

Looking into the still not moving gangsters misty eyes you gritted your teeth. “I SAID GET ME SOME DAMN SALT YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!” the words shot out of your mouth faster then you could think them threw. Luckily the insult only got them to move and fetch what you wanted. In a different situation you could imagine such talkback would only earn you a proper wack.

Jungkook looked at you with worried eyes. He was trembling a bit knowing what you were planning on doing. He heard some stories about this so called “last hope” method. It was mainly used at the military when doctors were out of supplies and tools. He knew you were always fascinated by medical work in the army. Still he prayed that you had at least the slightest idea about what you were doing and were aware of all the possible outcomes.

Of course you weighed your options. This approach was not something you would do while at the hospital but given your situation you had little to no choice. You could let this shady dude die and have your life taken with him or you could try and use a risky method.

Taking the pack of salt in your surprisingly steady hands you looked at the full of lesions and oozing abdomen. Taking a deep breath you tossed the powder.

Everyone in the room except for your coworker looked in utter shock and went silent for a while. Then a “The fuck you think you are doing?!” was let out in a high pitched note by someone.

You barely made out the next obscenities that were being thrown around by the now very anxious group of criminals. You steered yourself into your work zone. Staring at the cavity you already knew you dealt your cards well. The blood finally stopped flooding in and you could now start looking for all the torn vessels and start stitching them up.

Once more you closed your eyes, moved your head to both sides. The motion let out a loud crack and gave a little relief to your aching neck. Grabbing the suturing kit from the medical bag you began to work your magic.

Being a highly well trained trauma surgeon made you capable of working fast and efficiently under hefty amounts of stress. But no training at the hospital could prepare you for being trapped in a hellhole stitching up some shady persona while being held at gunpoint. And sure as fuck no one had you ready for all that was about to come next in your life…

#min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #agustd #agust d #bts fanfction #bts yoongi #suga smut #bts suga #suga fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoo #jungkook #bts hobi #hobi smut #hobi fanfic #bts smut #yoongi min #min yoongi reader #yoongi reader #suga x reader #suga x y/n #suga x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you

[mxrcjqckspnchqsc]

Hii i wanted to ask If you could also write for Steve and Nancy because i had a request where robin, Nancy and Steve (separately) comfort you after your best friend betrayed you and chose her other best friend over you for example how Cassie betrayed Maddy in Euphoria and that it really hurt and how they would support after when you're still not over it after 2 years

Still Hurts

A/N: hmmmm I'll write for them just this once since you included Robin in the requesttt(but if I were to add Steve and Nancy to the masterlist, would yall like that or?) Anwaysss PLEASE REQUEST SOMETHING GUYS I'M GETTING BORED

Also sorry this took like five hundred years but it's here now!

Summary: Read request above!

Steve Harrington

Steve never really knew how to comfort people since there was always no one there for comfort him when he was young but having real friends changed that, you changed that.

So when he found you crying over a polaroid of you and your ex-best friend, he rushed to your side and hugged you while you sobbed harder.

He would whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you everything would be okay despite you disagreeing.

"So stupid, so stupid." You cry as you stared at the polaroid of you two, how happy you looked and how well she faked it. Made you burn inside, how could anyone do this to someone else? Someone else that cared about them deeply and stab them in the back knowing the scar never seems to fade.

"It's not stupid," Steve whispers in your ear. Your cries and his whispers filled the room, it was silence everywhere else and that did not make you feel better. "I just miss her so much," you cried, even harder when you remembered the memories the two of you shared.

"And that's perfectly normal, alright?" Steve kissed the crown of your head as he reassured you. "It's gonna be okay, I just need you to believe that."

Nancy Wheeler

Nancy isn't the best at comforting people, well she wasn't until she met you. She tries so hard to be better at it when she met you, it became a goal. But when she saw you in tears in your living room, she almost broke down herself, it broke her heart seeing you this upset. And she was determined to find out why.

When she came closer to you, she saw you were holding a note. That was now filled with tears and barely readable. She was silently able to figure out the note was from your former best friend, it was written in curvise and nobody else wrote in cursive other than her.

She rushed to you and hugged you tight, even letting a few tears drop herself. She hugged you like it was the only thing she knew. She hugged you as if it was the last time she would ever be graced with your presence.

"It's okay it's okay," You felt Nancy's breath hit your ears. You hugged her back but not as tight or comforting but as if you would die if you were to ever let go.

"Will I ever be, Nance?" You asked as you wiped your eyes. "I don't know why I feel like this, it's been two years. Two damn years!" You exclaimed. Nancy hushed you, which made you cry even more.

"May not seem like it now but you will be, you will be. Okay?" Nancy tells you. "I promise."

Robin Buckley

Robin's heart shatters when she hears sniffles coming from your room. She opens the door, quietly. What she walked in on, she would have never expected it.

You were watching a vhs tape, it was of you and you ex-bsf. It seems to be a dance routine. 'So that's why you don't dance anymore,' Robin thought. You looked to be around eight in the tape which made Robin confused.

Robin went to your TV and took out the vhs tape which startles you as you looked up at her in confusion.

"Robin, what are you doing?" Before you could finish your question, Robin throws the vhs tape in the trash. "You don't need to be crying over that priss, I won't allow it."

"You can't control my emotions Rob, please go. I need to be alone right now." You tell her. Robin doesn't believe you, so she sits on the floor with you and hugs you. "No, you don't. You need someone more than ever right now."

You lean in Robin's side as she wipes your tears away. "Thanks." You mumbled. Robin gives you a kiss on the head as a reply. "Anytime baby, anytime."

Home. Masterlist. Rules. Tumblr. Tiktok. Wattpad.

#x gender neutral reader #stranger things #80s #robin buckley #eddie munson #dustin henderson #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #el hopper #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #jim hopper #joyce byers #jonathan byers #upside down #vecna

[blackleatherjacketz]

I See You

Loki x Mobius

Summary: Mobius tries his best to get over Loki... until he sends him a sign on Christmas.

Notes: This is my very angsty, very early contribution to @sarahscribbles and their Christmas Loki Fic event. It's how I'm dealing with the pain of the finale. Enjoy!

Read more Loki!

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The bright neon ‘Open’ sign flickers as Mobius sits down at the very first booth available, unbuttoning his suit jacket to get more comfortable in his seat. He gazes over the menu, glancing aimlessly over the words he’d seen dozens of times before in hundreds of different combinations, only none of them seem to make any sense to him at the moment. If he was being completely honest with himself, nothing had really made sense to him anymore; not after he left.

No amount of coffee he drank could sustain him. The food he ate lacked its usual flavor as the air felt flat and stale against his face, even if he was out on the water and the sun was still shining. He couldn’t sleep, yet he was always tired; too exhausted to wear his body out during the day to fall into a restful state at night. Instead he found himself staring at the ceiling with a bottle of whiskey in his hand as reruns of M.A.S.H. played in the background. That theme song seemed to be the only real form of comfort he was able to find until his body finally gave in, and his weeping eyes fell shut.

He could have kept his old life back at the TVA, but the pain of being there, of walking the same halls and touching the same surfaces without him at his side was just too much to bear. There was no way he could have stayed with all those memories haunting him like a ghost that everyone else saw and heard, but refused to address directly. He tried taking on other cases to distract himself, to get back into the practice of helping others, but he was of no use to them while his mind remained elsewhere.

He’d never felt more alone in his entire life.

He was stupid enough to think that he could fix this empty feeling by simply visiting some of Loki’s variants before he retired. He thought that if he at least saw his face or heard his voice again, it would be enough to place a cool balm over the gaping wound his sudden absence had carved into his soul. But not one of his variants knew who he was. None of them cared about him or found an excuse to touch him instead of admitting that they desired human contact, that they needed that closeness they were so deprived of as a child. None of them would fix his tie or grab hold of his arm just to bring him near, or even brush an eyelash off his cheek as those icy blues of theirs stared at him for just a little too long. None of them cared about anyone else besides themselves. None of them were ‘his Loki’.

Seeing their faces as they spoke down to others only made the pain that much worse, tugging at his insides as the man he came to know and love seemed to be even further away than before. So, he thought that a change of scenery might help, that if he let time pass in a completely different part of the world that he’d somehow be able to forget about him. About all of it, and eventually move on. But no matter where he went, no matter how hot or how cold, he always seemed to feel that nagging sense of longing, that inevitable… void inside him.

He always found himself wanting to tell ‘his Loki’ all about his new experiences, about the things that he saw or the people he met, to see what his reaction might be. He imagined that he’d raise his eyebrows at him in a sly, amused manner like he always used to, holding back his laughter with a tilt of his head. Or maybe he’d…

“Ready to order, sugar?” The waitress approaches him with her notepad, pulling him out of his thoughts and into the present as he remembers to look over the menu.

“I think I’m gonna need a minute,” he tells her, eyeing a faded picture of a club sandwich on the laminated piece of paper. “But I’ll start with a cup of coffee.”

“Sure thing.” She scribbles onto her notebook and leaves him to his thoughts.

It wasn’t fair. Any of it. How he’d run down those stairs so quickly without saying goodbye, that look in his eyes wet with sorrow as his lips pressed into a thin fine line. Sure, he’d saved everyone in the process, but what good was that if he had to go on living without him? What was the point of going out into the world if he had no one to share it with? It’s not like there were people here on earth he could openly talk to about his experiences, that there was anyone on any of the timelines who could possibly understand his plight.

Mobius stares at the empty seat across from him, wistfully imagining Loki’s tall, slender frame cramped into the squeaky old booth as he sighs in reluctant acceptance. He wonders, just for a second, what kind of coat he would have chosen to wear in the bitter cold of December as the snow falls down from the blackened sky. He fantasizes about how gorgeous his raven locks would’ve looked littered with the thousand different designs of snowflakes falling onto them, wondering if he’d brush them away or simply let them melt onto his skin. He wonders if he’d fall down if he took him skating at an ice rink, those long legs of his betraying him. He wonders how he’d feel about cozying up and watching a cheesy Christmas movie with a cup of hot cocoa.

DING DING!

Mobius turns in his seat as the diner’s door bell jingles, opening to a young man with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He’s about eighteen or twenty years old, brown hair with deeply saddened eyes as he looks around the nearly empty restaurant before sitting down awkwardly at the booth directly across from him. He can tell that the boy’s been crying, his insistent sniffling giving away the fact that his reddened nose and cheeks weren’t just from the frigid cold outside.

Why would a kid like that be alone, like him, on Christmas?

The waitress hands Mobius his coffee with a plate of cream and sugar on the side before walking up to the stranger, turning over her piece of paper for a new order. “What’ll ya have, sugar?”

Oh, I guess she calls everybody that.

The boy looks down at the menu, squinting a little to see through his saline soaked eyes before they seem to flash a shade of green. He smiles and looks up at her, confidently setting the menu down on the tabletop. “I’ll have a slice of key lime pie, oh and uh… one for him, too, please.” He points directly at Mobius with a mischievous grin.

What the shit?

The waitress nods and walks away.

“I’m sorry, did you just order me a slice of pie?” It hurt him too much to say the full name of the flavor out loud. Stupid, he knows, but he’ll get over it eventually.

The boy shakes his head as if to rid himself of the snowflakes that have landed on top of his head. “Huh?”

Mobius leans forward in his seat as his heart skips an expectant beat, pointing at him accusingly. “Did you just order me a slice of pie?” He repeats himself.

“Did I? Yeah, I guess I did.” He looks just as confused as he is, looking out at the dreary holiday weather before glancing back at him. “Look sir, I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it, but something told me to come to this diner tonight and order that specific thing.”

Something? What the hell was he talking about? It couldn’t be…

Mobius just stares at the young man, his mouth agape as the waitress sets down each of their slices in front of them. They’re almost identical to the ones he and Loki ate together at the TVA, right down to the very color and the candied lime on top as garnish. “What?”

The boy puts his hands up in defense, twisting his face with worry as if he expects to be met with anger and aggression.

Mobius knew that Loki was out here beyond time and space holding their universe together, that their lives were literally in his hands, but he didn’t know exactly how closely he was watching, or if he could actually see him at all. He didn’t know if he could interfere with even the smallest of events, but now he knows he’d be remiss to think otherwise. How else would this boy know to order that exact thing for him? How else would he know to come here to find him, all alone on Christmas night?

There’s no such thing as coincidence.

“Yeah,” is all Mobius can think to say, shaking his head in disbelief. “Thanks, kid.” He picks up his fork and digs into the bright green triangle.

“Sir? Can I sit with you?” The boy asks, quickly standing up with his plate and doing so anyway.

“Umm, yeah, sure, I, uh…” he stammers, half wanting to stay in the dark abyss of his memories instead of being present with this stranger who seems to be a little… wait a minute. Mobius recognizes him from his file at the TVA.

He was no stranger to the multiverse at all.

His grief had blinded him to the suffering of this child, this lonely wanderer who had just recently lost all of his friends and family, too. Mobius was so down about losing just one person, that he didn’t notice this kid who had no one else left. His name was Peter something, Peter… Parker, if he remembered correctly, the spider kid. Their stories weren’t the same by any means, but they were definitely in the same boat, both of them trying to stay afloat in worlds that no longer knew them.

“I see you,” he whispers to himself, hoping that Loki can hear him.

“Thanks, Mister…” the boy trails off before taking a bite, tilting his head in hopes of getting his name.

Mobius thinks of giving him the name of his alias, of keeping up the ruse he’d put on for the rest of the world, but decides that Peter could be the one person he tells his real name to. That he could at least give him that. It is Christmas, after all.

“I’m Mobius.” He states confidently, holding out his hand for him to shake.

“I’m…” he begrudgingly finishes his bite, trying not to make it too obvious that he doesn’t quite like the flavor.

“Peter.” He shakes his hand without thinking about what he just called him, the first genuine smile crossing his lips since he left the TVA. “I know.”

The boy’s eyes fill up with tears, his lips quivering as he tries his best to press them together, still holding onto Mobius’ hand in a redundant shaking motion. “You know me?”

Mobius nods in silence, holding back his own tears as he allows himself to hold space for this kid who has to be even more scared than he is. “Something like that.”

“But I don’t remember meeting you, Doctor Strange said that no one else could…”

“I know.” He whispers, wondering if this is Loki’s way of comforting him until he figures out how to come back; someone to help him get through the pain of it all, and vice versa. “It’s gonna be okay, kid. Let’s just say that we know a few of the same people.”

#lokius #loki #mobius #loki fanfic #lokius fanfic #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #marvel #loki series #loki laufeyson

[annie-creates]

To meet you

Pairing: Lady Lesso x reader

Genre: fluff (I guess)

Words: 1400

Note: Can we appreciate the fact all my fics have an exact number of hundreds of words so far? The idea for this came with the song Enchated by Taylor Swift. Also I hope this is gonna be good, it's something a bit different, so feedback is appreciated.

You landed in a field of flowers, surrounded by tiny flying fairies. They showed you the way into the school for good, your home for the next couple of years as you have learnt. You got a beautiful dress, the ladies in the groom room styled your hair and sent you on your merry way. Needless to say, you were completely captivated by the fairytale place. It was like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from, a real castle to live in. And you were gonna become a real princess? Talk about dream come true.

“Welcome, first year students. I’m professor Dovey, dean of the school for good.” The lady in golden dress introduced herself after you all quieted down in the meeting hall.

“And I’m Lady Lesso, dean of the school for evil.” A slightly taller woman stepped from behind her with a naughty smile and your breath stopped. She was absolutely enchanting. Those red hair, long legs and sparkly eyes with a little devil in them completely engulfed you.

“Now, we have had some changes here lately in the schools merging. We believe it will give you many new opportunities and perspectives, however outside of your classes your own faculties still stand.” Dovey explained, and even when you did your best to listen carefully, you couldn’t take your eyes off the other lady. It’s like you were magnetized to her.

In the next few days you’ve learnt to orient in the labyrinth of the school, successfully finding your classes, the dining hall or the library after a few tries. All the good classes were fun, the evil ones not so much. The teachers were quite unforgiving and tough, yet sadly you didn’t have any lessons with the dean of evil herself. So your only chance to meet her were the occasional school meetings, meal times or random passings in the hallways.

You were following a group of girls into your next class when she walked past you with a group of students, making you follow her with your head and bump into the girl in front of you when the group suddenly stopped. Lesso was passionately explaining something you didn’t hear, waving her hands around and not even noticing your glance, yet you were mesmerized.

The next time you were almost late to class, standing in the door for just a little too long, your eyes once again following the figure of Lady Lesso walking though the corridor even when your back was turned towards the hallway. You really wanted to step into the class on time, yet you couldn’t turn away from her until she rounded the corner and you couldn’t see her anymore.

You were sitting in the dining hall barely touching your plate, your eyes once again captivated by the figure sitting at the teachers table enjoying her meal. Fiddling your fork in the food you observed her light chatter with the other professors, hoping one day she’d speak to you so freely and without a worry like she does with them.

The whole year went on like this, pining after a woman who didn’t even know you existed. You tried to ensure yourself it was just an innocent teacher crush. That you didn’t really care that much. You didn’t really want her, you just liked her appearance, right? Like with famous actors or hockey players. It wasn’t a big deal. You’ll grow out of it eventually.

Yet when your first ever-never ball came, you couldn’t help but politely decline every invitation you got. Of course you knew Lady Lesso would never go with you, you weren’t even going to ask. But you couldn’t imagine spending the time with anyone else, so you opted to go alone, even if it meant getting a bad grade since you wouldn’t kiss anyone. At least you could spend the whole night undisturbedly watching her laugh and drink with her colleagues, even if you weren’t really a part of her world.

Your second year wasn’t much better. The evil dean interacted with your faculty more, which was nice since it meant seeing her more. It also meant more torture of the unreciprocated feelings you had. You couldn’t fool yourself anymore. No matter how much you tried to deny it, you were feeling something for this woman, and the stronger your feelings got, the better you got at masking it. If anyone knew about this it wouldn’t do any good. They’d probably expel you, and what more she’d think you’re just a weird schoolgirl with a crush.

So you continued to seek her presence only under the excuse of coincidence. You glanced at her when no one was looking. You followed her in the gardens only from a distance. As the whole year rolled around, once again you went to the ball without an escort. At this point you were the only princess who didn’t date anyone. Not that you cared.

You rather found yourself in the library buried in a magic book of spells you weren’t very good at since it was more of the school for evil’s specialty. But not everyone in the school for good would necessarily become a princess right? So you preferred to be somewhat prepared for anything, just in case. And you hoped that maybe the evil dean could find an interest in you through being such dedicated student.

Your third year came around and the dean of evil still hardly knew you existed. The excuse of an innocent crush was long out the window, but you didn’t have time to pin after her this time. You spent the whole year completing quests and missions with your classmates designed to prepare you for your fairytales. It was rare you had time to think about her or see her. Yet somehow your feelings grew even stronger with the distance put between you.

Your hard work finally paid of as you graduated at the top of your class. It wasn’t the results you hoped for, but at least it was something. You were getting ready for the storian’s ceremony, excited chatter all around you. Apparently being chosen for your own fairytale was a huge deal. Yet it wasn’t something you desired. All you wanted was to stay here, maybe become a teacher, and stay close to the woman you secretly loved.

Sitting in the meeting hall, every name the storian announced got a big applause and congratulations. Your eyes were once again fixated on the woman in a grey suit and dress coat, you probably knew all her angles by memory now. She sported a pleased smile for every chosen never, probably hoping they’ll finally win something. She was an epitome of grace, her elegant hands holding her cane, you could only imagine how skilled those fingers were.

“Y/n L/n.” sounded through the room and it took the girl sitting next to you elbowing you to get out of your shock.

You slowly stood up and came down to sign under your name in the book, accepting your fate. You walked between the deans, noticing their different yet pleasant perfumes. This was probably the first time you were this close to her. But this wasn’t a time to dream about the woman, you signed your destiny and walked into the room for the chosen ones like in a trance.

When you stepped into the room, everyone was excitedly piffling and laughing. It finally downed at you. You were leaving, tomorrow. You probably won’t see this place again. And if you want to, you need to defeat and probably kill one of the nevers sitting right beside you now. You slouched into a chair, rubbing your face. Was this a bad dream? Why was everything changing so suddenly?

As the ceremony ended, the deans came in to congratulate you once again and share some last advice. You listened to professor Dovey with only half an ear, your sight enchanted by the dean of evil again. You couldn’t help it. She’s been such a certainty in your life now, you couldn’t imagine you’ll never see her again. They sent you to pack and have a good last nigh sleep, but you couldn’t get your eyes off her, scared she’ll vanish the moment you do so.

Please don’t be in love with someone else. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you.

#lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady lesso fluff #lady leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso #the school for good and evil #school for good and evil #tsfgae #sge #fanfiction #fanfic #Spotify

[darkdarkroom]

~ Don’t Get Me Wrong ~

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Every Saturday for the past three months, Eddie Munson has been dropping in to the record store where you work. And for the same amount of time, you’ve been pretending not to notice he’s just there to see you. It’s a game you’ve both been playing, but today is the day you bring it into the endzone. It’s a classic idiots sort-of-friends to lovers thing, with Eddie at his most adorably oblivious. 

No warnings, just fluff and a very small hint at a sexy dream. 

Author’s note: this is my first fic in over four years and I’m only too happy to be back on my bullshit for Eddie Munson - shame it’s the night before part 2 comes out.  i like italics a little too much and can’t write kisses to save my life, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless. reader is as gender neutral as i can manage through editing - angel as a nickname is the only vaguely gendered term used. In a bid to get this out before part 2 drops I did not proof read - it is 2:45 am, i am not sorry. MASTERLIST

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No one could say that working at a record store is the greatest job in the world, but it certainly has its moments. Getting your hands on the latest tapes first? That’s pretty cool. Playing your favourite tracks whilst you work? Another great perk. Working the Saturday shifts? Mmm, not so hot.  

At least they weren’t so hot, until one morning three months ago. After the Starcourt Mall had that freaky fire, Hawkins locals had needed to look elsewhere for their retail therapy. So, you’d been getting a lot of new customers in the weeks that followed, which was excellent for business, but less so for your peace of mind. Eventually things settled down, and you've been left with a few more regulars – including one particularly striking regular you’ve come to know very well.

The first time you’d met Eddie Munson, he spilled an entire blue raspberry slushie down his front upon tripping through the door. Naturally, he was mortified, but you?

You were enchanted.  

Maybe it was the way he spoke at a hundred miles per hour as he tried to mop himself down with a single black handkerchief, or maybe it was how every time you told him it was okay, his cheeks would colour just a little bit more. Perhaps it was something in his eyes – oh, those eyes. Eddie’s eyes still stop you in your tracks every time, something in those soft pools of molten brown drawing you in like a magnet. It’s so unfair – one look and you were entirely done for.  

Anyway, you’d felt incredibly sorry for the poor guy, insisting he take whatever band tee he desired as a gesture of goodwill - “The step is totally uneven, it’s an accident waiting to happen. Not your fault at all”.  

Eddie had picked Metallica, doing his best to hide his delight at expanding what you now know to be an extensive collection. “This place is pretty cool,” he’d remarked, ducking into the backroom to get changed. “Might come in more often”.  

And come in more often he did – every single Saturday since then. It hadn’t taken you long to start expecting his arrival, and then anticipating it. There’s a difference between the two states, you realise; expecting just means you know you’re gonna see him. Anticipating means you’re actively waiting for him.  

This is exactly what you’re up to now: actively waiting for Eddie Munson. It’s close to 5:30, about the time he always shows his face.  He’s only been late once, a few Saturdays ago – very late. You’d assumed he was out of town for some reason, but two minutes after closing time, you’d heard a frantic tapping at the window. How could you not take pity on him, standing with his gut wrenchingly sad face pressed against the glass and a fistful of dollar bills meant for the new Rolling Stones single. Letting him in had been a no brainer, though you’d gotten shit from your manager the next day.  

The following week, after giving an entertaining and animated monologue about his band's latest gig, he’d suddenly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a can of soda – your favourite soda. It was going “spare”, you see, as he’d “accidentally” bought it but didn’t like the flavour. He'd sheepishly pushed it across the counter, heading out of the store in a rush before you could thank him.  

He’s funny like that; cocky and attention-grabbing one second, and painfully self-conscious the next. The slightest compliment can reduce him to a blushing, stuttering mess, something you discovered when you told him you liked how his hair looked one morning. His eyes had widened, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ripped jeans. “Uh, I, uh... I brushed it” he’d admitted, shuffling his weight from foot to foot. “Don’t always remember to do that”.  

He remembers now. At least, he does every Saturday, but you’re careful not to draw attention to it.  

After three months of regular conversations, the two of you have built something closely resembling friendship. Since day one, though, there’s been something else there. Something exciting, something electric.  

Something impossible to resist.

Waking up for work has never been easier – you're not even thinking about work, you’re thinking about Eddie Munson. He’s in your daydreams, and your night dreams too, for that matter. There was that one particularly good dream, where you found yourself by lover’s lake and he had his van and -

Yeah, you can dwell on that one another time. Can't have anyone catching you with that faraway look on your face and asking what you’re thinking about now, can you? It’s hard to focus, though, when you know he could appear at any minute.  

Oh.

There he is.  

Eddie approaches from the other side of the street, his standard uniform of denim vest over leather jacket making him impossible to miss. You wonder what band tee he’s got on today – last week it was Dio, and the week before it was Ozzy... and why exactly have you remembered that, hmm? It seems that no matter how cool you play it on the outside, your mind is brimming with information about the gorgeous metalhead you can’t get enough of. Yeah, it’s clear as day – you've got it bad for Eddie Munson.  

But if your judgement is correct, Eddie Munson has it just as bad for you – and today is the day you’re gonna do something about it.  

He pauses at the roadside for a moment, looking from left to right as if deciding where to go next. As if he hasn’t done the same thing every Saturday for the past three months. You suppress a smile and pretend to look busy, shuffling a stack of tapes into place as you await his inevitable arrival. It’s a silly little game the two of you are playing, but it’s one you enjoy – he pretends he’s not there just for you, and you pretend you haven’t noticed.  

You don’t have to look up to know he’s approaching. The jingle of those metal chains hitting his thigh with every step gives him away, and you risk a sideways glace as he stops to browse near the entrance. He has his back to you, thumbing through a stack of records as he stalls for time. Walking straight up to you would give the game away, so he always puts a little effort into his whole “just passing through” routine. It’s probably very convincing to the untrained eye, but you know him and the store a little too well: that’s where you keep the week’s top charting singles, and Whitney Houston has been number one for the past three weeks. He’s looked at exactly the same thing for the past two Saturdays, and unless his taste has drastically changed, there’s nothing remotely interesting to him there.  

Still, you respect his commitment to the bit, keeping up your side of things by letting it play out however he chooses. A customer approaches the desk with an armful of tapes, and Eddie takes your distraction as an opportunity to move a little further in. He’s in the rock section now, this time rifling through the stacks with purpose. You know what he’s looking for, but he’s a little too late – the new AC/DC album sold out two days ago. You watch him realise this as you hand the customer her change, and he tries to reign in his obvious disappointment.  

He waits for the customer to depart, before making a leisurely turn towards the counter. He’s now the only person in the store besides you, so it would be pointless to pretend not to notice him; you look up and smile warmly, his deep brown eyes meeting yours instantly.  

Magnetic.

No matter how many times you play this game, you can’t help the way your heart jolts and your stomach twists at that first second of eye contact. Eddie Munson does something thrilling to you, something more addictive than anything you know he sells. It clearly has an impact on him also: he swallows hard, barely maintaining his attempt at a cool façade as he approaches you.

“'Afternoon, angel” he begins, placing his palms flat on the countertop as he smiles winningly at you.

Angel.

Now it’s you who’s trying the hardest to keep cool. He uses nicknames so breezily, but the effect they have on you is almost embarrassing – like he steals a little bit of your breath with every angel, sweetheart, or darling he tosses your way. One word from Eddie could reduce you to a daydreamy disaster on an off day, but today you’re not gonna let him win that easily – this is a game after all, and it’s time for your next move.  

“Hey, Eddie! How’s it going?” you reply brightly, noting the flicker of delight in his eyes at the mention of his name. The first time you used it had him visibly flustered, seemingly surprised that you even knew who he was. God, how could you not? He was by far the most interesting person in this otherwise dreary town, but that fact seemed to be lost on him entirely. He’d written himself off a long time ago, but every time you use his name you remind him that you see him. It didn’t take you long to notice the effect it has on him, that little thrill never seeming to wear off.  

Excellent.

“Ah, y’know, not too bad” he grins, before glancing over his shoulder to the rock section. It gives him a second to compose himself, a little more relaxed when he turns back to face you. “You don’t happen to have any more Who Made Who’s around here, do you?”

You pretend to think about this for a second, as he watches you hopefully. “The AC/DC record? Oh, I’m so sorry, it sold out like two days ago”

Eddie’s face drops, and he steps back from the counter slightly in his disappointment. It's like kicking a puppy, but you’ve gotta get him down a little further before you bring him back up again. “Yeah, it was gone waaaay quicker than we thought. Can’t even order in a new batch just yet, it’s impossible to get hold of a copy if you haven’t got one already”.  

He seems genuinely put out, nodding in resigned acceptance as one ring-clad hand comes up to rub at his cheek. Music is the very blood that runs through his veins, so it makes sense that he’d be so deflated. You can’t bring yourself to drag this out any longer, so you move into the endzone with a tone of airy nonchalance. “Unless, of course, you happen to be friendly with the salesperson, who’s nice enough to keep a copy behind the till for you just in case you don’t come by in time”.  

His head snaps up, eyes wide with renewed hope. “No way, you haven’t... have you?”

Without breaking his gaze, you reach behind the till and slowly reveal the cassette box you've kept hidden since the day the shipment arrived. Sure, your colleagues had teased you mercilessly about it ever since, but the sheer relief and delight on his lovely lovely face could make any amount of ridicule worth it.  

Eddie pushes himself back from the counter, arms thrown above his head as he stares at you in wonder. His mouth gapes open, lips forming shapes that don’t quite make it into words; you’ve rendered him speechless, something which you – and anyone else who knows him, for that matter – would think to be impossible. Fighting to keep a victorious grin off your face, you tap at a few buttons on the cash register. “So should I ring this up, or...?”

“Yes, god yes” he manages finally, the words coming out in a breathless flurry of excitement. He approaches the counter once again, dipping a hand in his pocket to withdraw a beaten up leather wallet. “You... you’re something else” he adds, seemingly without thinking; the second the words leave his lips he falters, cheeks colouring and gaze dropping as he counts out a few bills. Before he can place them on the counter, though, you reach out your hand until it’s a fraction of an inch away from his.  

“Seven dollars then, please” you tell him, palm open. Physical contact: it’s an unexplored frontier in your little game, and you’ve cornered him into making the icebreaking move. You’re on fire today, not least because of the heat you feel as his fingertips brush against yours for the very first time.  

Hello.

It’s a gentle, innocent touch, but you can tell by the way his lips press together that it means as much to Eddie as it does to you. He lets his hand linger much longer than he probably should, those beautiful eyes flicking up to meet yours as he studies your response.  

One heartbeat, then two, then three pass as you draw the moment out. Loud, insistent heartbeats that he’s probably close enough to hear, maybe even feel -  

That’s enough now.  

You grasp the bills and draw your hand away, turning to the cash register and away from his burning gaze. Try to calm down a little. You’re almost at the home stretch. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him compose himself, flexing the hand that touched yours as the other tugs self consciously at a lock of his hair. You count the bills into the cash drawer, exactly the right amount. No need for change, thank god; the last thing you need right now is more physical contact to addle your brain, if you want to bring this game to a perfect finish.  

You slide his purchase across the counter, setting an easy smile on your face. “All yours”.  

All his.

The tape, and you.  

Have been since the first day you locked eyes across this damn record store.  

“Thank you, so much. You’re a wonder” he says, sliding the tape into his pocket. “Honestly, I owe you one”.

Here we go.

“Oh yeah, you definitely do” you reply, leaning casually against the wall behind you.

Come on, Eddie, take the bait.

He takes a few steps back, and then one forwards, brow furrowed as if contemplating something.  

You know you want to.

Eddie nods almost imperceptibly, decision made. “How about... how about dinner? I mean, how about I take you to dinner. Dinner with me. Obviously!” he rambles, eyes darting from side to side as he tries to regather his words into something far smoother than he’s currently managing. “That is if you’ve not got plans, or like... you know, if you even want to...”

As much as you’re enjoying him adorably losing his cool over finally asking you out, it’s time to land this thing.

“I’d love that!”

Eddie freezes, tongue poking out from between his blush-pink lips. “Really?”

“Yeah, dinner would be great”. And then, just to drive the point home: “Dinner with you. Obviously”.  

He lets out a deep breath, unable to stop a beauteous smile from lighting up his entire face. ‘Okay, cool. Excellent” he says, a hint of relief mixed in with the joy he’s clearly feeling.  

“We could do tonight, if you’re not busy? I finish here in like twenty minutes”.

Scheduled it two weeks ago, just in case.

How you’re still managing to keep it this cool on the outside is beyond you, your mind racing as you consider just how perfectly things have fallen into place. Dinner with Eddie. A dinner date? Shit’s getting real now.  

“Not busy at all”.  

He thinks for a moment, and you can almost see the moment an idea clicks into place. “Weather’s nice, don’t think it’s gonna rain tonight. You fancy heading up to the lake for a picnic?”

He watches you carefully, still slightly unsure of himself. So oblivious – there’s no chance in hell you could ever say no to that offer.

Hang on, the lake?  

Don’t think about your dream, do NOT think about your dream.

“That would be perfect!” you smile warmly, doing your best to offset his nervous energy.  

It seems to have worked; he settles into a laid-back stance, head cocked to one side and arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, cool. My van’s parked round the corner, I’ll be the guy with the sweet tatts in the driver’s seat” he quips, taking a few steps backwards. “I’ll grab some food and see you in twenty, angel”.  

Eddie turns and strides out of the store, shoulders back and head held high. Ahh, he probably thinks this is all his idea. That’s cute. He’s cute, the boost of confidence looking good on him. God, if you’re this caught up in him already, how are you gonna make it through dinner?  

The next twenty minutes pass all too quickly and yet maddeningly slow at the same time. You have a change of clothes in your bag, and make sure to give your hair a quick seeing to before you head out.  

A date with Eddie Munson.

A date, with Eddie Munson.  

Not that he’d called it a date, of course. Maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself here, maybe you’ve got the vibes wrong, maybe -

No, come on. You can read that man like a fucking phonebook, and every number in there is yours. This back and forth can only go on for so long – you're both ready for something more now.

--------------------------

You see him the second you round the corner, leaning up against the van with his shoulders hunched. His left hand plays with the rings on his right, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It takes a few moments for him to realise you’re there, but when he does his demeanour changes entirely. He stands up straighter, puffing his chest out as he gestures to the van. “Your carriage awaits” he says, opening the passenger side door with a flourish.  Showmanship – that’s something he’s always excelled at.  

That same gentlemanly spirit emerges once you arrive at the lake, with Eddie rushing out to open your door before you even have a chance to unclip your seatbelt. He reaches out to take your hand, steadying you as you hop down into the meadow. Like earlier, you let your hands linger just a little longer than necessary.  

The catch in his breath is audible, and sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.  

He has to let your hand drop as he closes the passenger side door, lips pressed together as he regains his composure.  

So, here you are.

Lover’s Lake.

It’s a still night, with the soft spring breeze pushing ripples across the dark water. Quiet, too; you look around for signs of other late-night picnickers, but it seems you’re the only pair around. Eddie stands and observes the scenery for a moment. From the corner of your eye can see his attention turning back to you, his hands diving back into his pockets as he takes it all in.

You know exactly what he’s feeling – this is unfamiliar but exciting territory. Being alone together in the van was something, but now you’ve got this beautiful view and the promise of an entire evening for just the two of you. A picnic was a bold idea. A romantic idea. He has to know what he’s gotten himself into, and you’re certainly not complaining. This is definitely a date, and Eddie’s definitely keen to get things going.  

He rifles through the back of the van, letting out a victorious “Ah ha!” when he emerges brandishing a rolled-up tartan blanket. “Knew this would come in handy someday”. A paper grocery bag is next, which he tucks under one arm, before turning to flash you a winning smile. “Wanna pick a spot?”

You nod your head to the left, where the bank starts to slope towards the water. “View looks good from there”.

“Over there it is!” he declares, before marching over to get set up. He’s diligent and thoughtful, smoothing out the creases in the blanket before laying out the food with great care. Once he’s satisfied with how it looks, he turns to you for approval.

He needs that, you realise. His stance is confident, but his eyes betray a hint of uncertainty. “I’ve never actually had a picnic before” he admits, messing a hand through his hair. “There’s some bread and stuff for sandwiches, and I grabbed some strawberries for something sweet... sorry, I should’ve checked what you like”.

Mentally he’s kicking himself right now, and you’re only too quick to ease his concerns. “Eddie, this looks perfect, thank you!”

The compliment hits the spot. Eddie relaxes instantly, allowing himself a satisfied smile as he surveys his work. “You’re very welcome, angel. Hungry?”

“Starving!”

-----------------

Any worries you may have had earlier are washed away before you’ve even moved onto dessert. Conversation with Eddie flows so easily, the two of you laughing and talking like this is the most natural thing in the world. Without the barrier of a counter between the two of you, you find yourself moving closer to him without even realising it.  

He talks at great length about his band, throwing his head back as he mimes a guitar solo that’s totally gonna bring the Hideout roof down on Friday night. “You should come!” he exclaims, swaying a little as he speaks. “It’s not the biggest of crowds, but we always make sure it’s a rad night”.  

“I’d love to!”

He seems genuinely surprised by your enthusiasm, leaning back on his hands as he studies you. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“No, I mean it. I’ve heard so much about your music, I’d love to see you perform” you assure him, tucking your legs up under you. “Why are you so surprised?”

Eddie hesitates, one hand tugging up a clump of grass as he ponders over the answer.  

“You’re just... you’re just like, the coolest person in Hawkins” he says, looking away from you to stare out at the lake. “It’s kinda unexpected that you’d wanna spend time with me”.  

Honestly.

How oblivious can one guy be?

“Eddie... I need you to really think about this right now. Why are we here tonight?”

He turns back to face you with a frown, unsure of where you’re going with the question. “Because I asked you?”

“Yes, and why did you ask me?

“Because I owe you one”

You’re getting closer to the point now, more insistent even as he remains utterly clueless. “And why do you owe me one?”

“Because you kept back a tape that...”  

Eddie falters, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Because you kept back a tape for me. One you knew I’d like”. His voice is quiet, eyes narrowed at the ground as he considers the sequence of events.  

“And why would I do that?”

The pause that follows your question is drawn out, but you don’t rush him. His eyes widen, as if seeing the situation clearly for the first time. The hesitation you see in them is replaced by something stronger, something brighter:

Hope.

“Because... because you like me?”

He phrases it as a question, but the emphasis on the like tells you he understands perfectly.

“Because I Like you” you confirm.  

He lets out a gentle breath, cheeks colouring as he lets his knees drop. The smile that pulls at the corner of his mouth is irrepressible, but his shyness won’t let him meet your eyes just yet. His voice comes out as little more than a whisper - “I like you too”.

Just saying the words out loud embolden him, and he finally manages to bring his gaze up to yours.  

How do his eyes still get you so soft, every time? Little creases decorate their outer corners as he smiles, shuffling closer to you on the blanket.  

“I really like you” he continues, “Like... seeing you in the shop is the highlight of my week. Yeah, the music’s cool, but I only really care that you’re there”.

“So it’s not the Whitney Houston records you keep coming back for?” you tease, and he nudges you with his shoulder in response – he’s that close to you now, your knees touching as you let yourself lean into him.  

“Oh, Whitney’s a babe, but you... you’re really something special”.  

He means it, not looking away like he did when the words slipped out earlier. Eddie owns the compliment, swallowing hard as he reaches out to rest a hand on your waist. “Knew from the first moment I saw you, angel. Just didn’t think I had a hope in hell of getting you”.

You can’t suppress the smile his words provoke, moving in closer as he pulls you into him. “Eddie, you had me from day one”.  

“Day one?! Why did we wait three whole months then?” he asks, mock incredulously. His voice is still soft, though, and his face is barely two inches away from yours. When you don’t answer, his other hand comes up to brush across your cheek. The touch is featherlight, the callouses on his fingertips a reminder of exactly who it is you’re so close to right now.  

A moment passes, as the two of you let the tension build as high as you can take it. It’s Eddie who relents, his heavy-lidded gaze soft and filled with desire. “No more waiting” he breathes, before he gives into the moment and closes the gap between you.  

Eddie Munson is kissing you.

His lips move fervently against your own, warm and soft but more and more urgent as the kiss deepens. Your hands are in his hair, and the hand on your waist pulls you into him, your bodies pressing close together. Breathing becomes irrelevant; to kiss and only to kiss is the all-consuming thought.  

You’ve both been waiting for this moment, and are making the most of every single second. It doesn’t matter that you’re in the middle of the meadow in full view of anyone who may pass by. This kiss is intimate, euphoric, everything you’re thinking conveyed better in actions than in words.  

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing for, and you don’t care. When your lips finally part, Eddie holds you close to him, unwilling to let you go just yet.  

“Wow” he whispers, his breath ghosting across your lips.

“Wow” you agree, as you smile up at him. He looks perfect, softly lit by the moon as he holds you against his chest. Neither of you speak for a moment, basking in the glow as your breathing slowly returns to normal.  

Who needs that dream when this is what reality gives you? Granted, it didn’t end here, but -

“What are you thinking?” he asks suddenly, his voice snapping you back to the present.  

“Oh! Nothing”  

It comes out a little higher pitched than you’d aimed for, and Eddie notices. He leans back a little to get a good look at your face, curious eyes searching for clues. “Everything okay?” he says, the hand on your back moving to stroke up your arm. “My jacket is all yours if you’re feeling cold”.  

He’s too sweet for his own good, honestly, the concern on his face plucking at your heartstrings. Those puppy dog eyes are hard to resist for too long, and you let out a deep sigh before attempting to explain.  

“I’m fine, it’s just... I had this dream...”  

You let your words trail off, unsure of how to continue. Eddie’s eyes light up as he leans in closer, head cocked to one side. “A dream, you say?”

“Mmhmm”.

“And was I in this dream?” he asks, his tone playful as he leans ever closer. Embarrassed, you move to bury your face in his chest, but his hand comes up to gently but firmly cup your chin. He holds you there, eyes searching yours with a molten intensity. “Was I, angel?”  

“Yes, Eddie, you were” you say, enjoying the glint of delight that appears in his eyes. He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, thumb stroking your skin as he revels in your closeness.  

“You gonna tell me about this dream?”

It's tempting, it really is. Eddie could get anything out of you if he really wanted, but you know he’d never push it. This is information for another day, so you smile softly and let your hand come to rest on his shoulder. “Eventually”

“Eventually?” he echoes, amusement playing across his lips. “I can live with eventually”.  

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so sweet and full of adoration that you can almost feel your heart skip a beat.

Dreams can wait; how you are right now, with Eddie Munson? This is so much better.  

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #joseph quinn #x reader #edited to add the formatting tumblr killed #mine

[do-angels-dream-of-starry-seas]

@certainunknownlove making my own post for this, because this is not only a response to your question about good omens fandom and its casual aphobia, but I want to try once more to get my thoughts down.

To simply put - when you see aphobia in a fandom setting, what do you expect to see? Most allo people think of the classics, "asexual and aromantic are not real!" or "you're being homophobic!"

But the problem is these are all too cut and dry (not to say aphobes like this still pop up every now and then). Social media is now far more aware of aphobia, and are all proudly saying how they love and respect aromantics and asexuals, they're apart of the lgbtq community, hoorah!

This leads to a situation like the good omens fandom: two mostly male-presenting beings are not human, and their relationship in the book and in s1 is in a weird murky ground of queerplatonic. Humans point out how romantic they look, the author repeatedly states how their relationship isn't in human terms yet doesn't shoot down anyone's interpretations and tries to do little innuendos like an ox-rib eating scene. And by the time s2 comes around, they showcase their relationship in a more traditionally human sense, ala a kiss.

Talking about whether making them asexual or aromantic is aphobic itself is a whole other topic that would be far longer to do, but the fact of the matter is some people see them as asexual, some people see them as queerplatonic, some people see them as completely alloallo.

For aspec people, the kind of comments you would usually find, off the top of my head, would be things like:

"They have to kiss again in s3"

"Wouldn't it be sooo poetic if they were made for each other, soulmates, and if other angels and demons were too?"

"Wouldn't it be great though if these non-human beings were soooo connected to humanity that they did these universally human things?

Innocuous, but then it builds up:

"It was queerbaiting"

"They finally confirmed they're romantic in s2 with the kiss"

And making assumptions based on their own allo perspectives:

"If they aren't sexual, what's with all the things like the ox-rib?"

"I understand people read them as asexual, but here is a 5k word meta confirming they're sexual"

"Ace people can still have sex!"

Which can then lead to certain people claiming things like:

"I'm going to quote tweet this person expressing their fear of them making ineffable husbands sexual by saying I hope they do"

"The author said they weren't sexual, but we saw them kiss"

"The author is too cowardly to commit to them being gay because of this"

"What are they gonna do, make them Ken dolls in their relationship?" (This is paraphrasing an actual post)

... what allo people dont get is they can make alllll sorts of excuses for these kinds of phrases: its my interpretation! I'm not really serious! Ace and aro people are valid!! But when those posts get hundreds of notes, and these posts are made by the Big Fandom People, other people climb on the bandwagon and it leads to those last few examples I gave. It's a fucking echo chamber, at that point.

When aspec people talk about these things, they only get ten to twenty notes at best. And you might still get people in their notes saying things like "it's not everyone in fandom, stop taking it so seriously!"

I don't know, man. I tried to talk casually, i tried to give detailed examples on why it's aphobic, I tried calling out the Big Aphobes and still politely censoring their usernames, I tried making a discord for aspec people but its always dead silent in there. All I know is, it's thankfully not just me.

#good omens #let.me.dream.with.goodomens #aphobia tw #aphobia #ineffable husbands #lgbtq

[lostmyhufflepuffstatus]

Dear Genius {Criminal Minds}

Word Count: 1010

Summary: With things slowly going back to normal you're thinking about the past when you get a midnight visitor.

Warnings: Blood, horrible writing, OOC Characters, She/Her Pronouns used

Genre: I don't even know anymore angst????

A/N: So this was not what I was expecting to write for part 4 of Under the Door... I was going to do something happy but then my brain decided screw that you're gonna make people mad at you. I have no idea why people enjoy this series... and sorry for the long hiatus, i have issues lol.

You finished the case in San Fransisco a few months ago and everyone had made it home safely. Spencer had been back a few months and things were slowly returning to normal, or as normal as they could when your partner and best friend had been through the traumatic experience of losing the love of his life. Since he has gotten back you and Spencer have gotten closer and have been spending more and more time together passing notes. You passed them in the books you shared with eachother, on the togo coffee cups you got for one another and even writing on someones hand when paper was inaccessible. The closer you grew the more that old work place crush from oh so long ago rears it’s ugly head. Something you thought that you had squashed under your boot a long long time ago. one night after a particularly rough case that did not have a happy ending, are alone in your apartment, and you’re pulled into a memory of the first time you and Spencer met.

Taking a deep breath you pull open the glass doors leading into the bullpen. At twenty-three years old you had just barely cut into being an agent at the FBI. You had worked your ass off to get to where you were and you were not about to stop now. You had double majored in psychology and geography during college and went to the academy as soon as you had your degrees in hand. You were smart and capable, and most importantly prepared and trained for this job. 

Stepping into the bullpen was like stepping into an alien world, it was very overwhelming at first. You tried to get the attention of some of the other agents but because everyone was doing a hundred million things at once, nobody seemed to notice you. After a few minutes you locate Hotch’s office and he takes you into the conference room to be introduced to the rest of the team. Going around the table you are introduced to Elle, Gideon, JJ, Garcia, and Morgan. Hotch mentions that someone named Spencer is running late. As JJ starts to go over the case you are distracted by the door quickly opening and closing, Morgan is the first to turn towards the door with a smile. Others follow suit including you.  After taking a moment to take in the height of the man before you, your eyes meet the warmest brown eyes and you are rendered speechless. And to the team's surprise Spencer goes silent as well. There is a pause before awkward pleasantries are exchanged and both of you notice that there is only one chair left at the round table, right next to you. You held your breath as he took the seat next to you, JJ resumed her case and you forced your eyes to the front of the room, completely aware of the genius sitting next to you.

Since that moment you became inseparable as friends, and realized that you complimented eachother’s skill set on cases so Hotch frequently partnered the two of you up for assignments on cases. While you befriended all of your teammates, the connection you and Spencer shared was different. And as cliche as it sounds, as time went on you started realizing that you had started falling for your best friend.  You have never told anyone other than a single piece of paper, that you had buried in your bedside table drawer. You didn’t want to ruin the friendship that you had if he didn’t share your feelings, and especially with Maeve you convinced yourself to ignore your feelings and pray that they would go away. And for a time it seemed to work. While thinking about everything that had happened since joining the BAU there was a knock on your door. Forcing yourself off the couch you grumble as you walk to the door, pulling it open. “Hello?”

MEANWHILE

The incessant knocking on his door dragged a reluctant Spencer from sleep. He pads his way to the door before pulling it open to reveal that nobody is there. Letting out an exasperated sigh he peeks his head out to look around the hallways before noticing that there is an envelope taped to the door with his name on it. Pulling it down he immediately recognizes your handwriting. Tearing it open two pieces of paper fall out, one of which is much older than the other. Taking the older slip of paper in his hand he read it over and over again. 

Dear Genius,

If you’re reading this letter that means I have either completely lost my mind and gave this to you of my own free will, or Penny found it, read it and passed it along to you…

The words went straight to his heart and soul, puncturing the walls only you could bring down. He could have stared at that letter for hours but his curiosity about the second sheet of paper got the better of him. Tearing his eyes away from your letter he was met with handwriting he did not recognize. The ink used was a dark red that was still wet to the touch, and attached to the letter was a lock of hair, it was a color that he had grown so used to and fond of over the last several years. He took a second look at the “ink” and realized that he was not looking at a typical ball point pen or even fountain pen ink. His heart dropped into his stomach as he realized what it was, blood. Trying not to smudge the “ink” he forced himself to read the words;

Did you miss me? I sure missed you.

P.S. This is a scavenger hunt, I have left clues for you. If you want her back alive, follow the rules. You have 24 hours.

Clue #1

Rain, rain, go away

Come again another day

She wants you to come out and play

Where to hide from the rain?

#criminal minds imagines #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #under the door

[spicysix]

「eddie munson X gn!reader • roadtrip!AU」

2.1k words | prev | next | masterlist | ao3 warnings/author's note: there's a fair in this chapter. i have no idea how fairs work, fwi. also, the fair already existed but we don't know how it went in 1986. i based the (barely mentioned) atractions off the ones on the fair's official website. google is my best friend ♡ also: i was supposed to update only at tuesdays but i might... change that 👀 cause i'm too anxious. anyway this one came earlier bc first chapter had basically no plot moving at all so here's a treat! ♡

Wednesday, July 23

Eddie Munson was not an easy one to convince, that you had found out.

He tried pulling your bag out of his van, he tried pushing you back into your trailer, he tried being mean and rude and grumpy. But he just didn’t know how persistent — your grandma would call it ‘stubborn’ — you were.

So after some more bickering, there you were at the right window seat of his van, that damp sticky wind of summer in your face as Indiana passed you by.

He asked about a hundred times if you were sure you wanted to come, said you had no idea what you were getting into, and didn’t go into detail at any point but really tried to scare you away. Stopped asking once you passed the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign and you still showed no signs of changing your mind.

There were two bags, his beloved guitar and a fucking mattress in the back of the van. The back of the van, by the way, that you knew that up until March still had at least one or two rows of benches, but was now bare to open up space for said mattress. Did Eddie really think you had no idea what he was up to? Did Eddie really think it looked like he was just going for a ride to Main Street’s Melvald’s? Did Eddie really think he could disguise the fact that he was fleeing town?

Not like you were going to judge him, if that was his fear. Hawkins was already unkind to him before framing him for murder, but after the whole Vecna thing and Jason Carver’s witch hunt, it was even harder for him to be treated like anything but a rabid contagious animal. In your opinion, he was rightful by wanting to leave behind a place that harmed him in so many ways.

But you also knew that Hawkins wasn’t the only one to treat Eddie unfairly. You knew he did it himself too.

And yet, there you were with him, fleeing town, in the most unprompted — your grandma would call it ‘reckless’ — adventure of your life. Running away with Eddie Munson, a guy you knew barely anything about, only because the thought of him running away alone was too heavy for you to bear.

The ride after the ‘Leaving Hawkins’ sign was completely silent if not for a tape he had on, but it was set to a very low volume — uncommon of him if the trailer neighbors’ complaints were to say something. He said nothing about where you were going, if he even knew where you were going. It was around four PM when you recognized the outskirts of a city you had seen only once, many years ago.

“Are we in Chicago?” you asked, and he hummed.

“Not to stay, though. Wanna go further. Gonna stop at a gas station.” He was like a savage man talking in few words, his face still contorted in a grimace. Obviously still unpleased you joined him.

You just gave your okay — not like he needed it — and looked through your window as you left Chicago behind before he stopped at a gas station right outside the metropolitan area. You checked the panel, tank was full.

“Gonna buy some stuff, you going?” Eddie asked, and you just left the van as an answer.

He went inside the convenience store, but you clocked in a payphone and went straight to it, searching for dimes in the front pocket of your bag. Luckily, you had the Mayfield’s number memorized, and it wasn’t long before your friend’s voice greeted you.

“Mayfield’s, this is Steve Harrington talking.”

“Steve! It’s me! Listen, I had an… occurrence.”

“Oh hey,” he said your name in recognition. “What do you mean? You sound suspicious.”

“I may or may not have fled the city with Eddie.”

“Is this a prank?”

“You wish. I was just leaving Max when I saw him loading up his van, and I just felt it in my gut that he was running away. And, I dunno, my conscience told me to come with.”

“So you… ran away with Munson, is that what I’m hearing? Are you even close friends?”

“Yep, that’s what you’re hearing. And nope, we’re not close at all. I just couldn’t let him come alone.”

“What the fuck, where are you even going?” He was distressed, and you heard Max’s ironic ‘language’ in the background before he shushed her.

“I don’t know, Steve. But we trust him, right. Nothing bad’s gonna happen, but what if he had left alone and we just didn’t know where he was going? I don’t think he told anyone, maybe you should check? He’s kinda pissed that I tagged along, but I’ll win him over in no time.”

“Sure you will.” You ignored him, not sure if he was being sarcastic or genuine.

“Dustin’s heart would’ve broke if Eddie just ran off without saying. At least I can tell you guys where we are. Promise to send you news!”

“Yeah, you damn better! Jesus, you’re completely insane. Listen-”

“Oh, Steve, gotta go, he’s coming back, I’ll keep you updated, bye!” You gave him no time to answer before hooking the phone back as Eddie walked in your direction, not sparing you a glance and checking something on the receipt as he spoke:

“Got some food, drinks ‘n stuff. Let’s go,”

He also didn’t wait for your answer before returning to the van, and you just went after him. He tossed the plastic bags on the bench between you, and you pried on the goods. There was a full US roads map, some chips, protein bars, chocolate treats, a few cans of soda. And two postcards of Chicago. You took them out of the bags and inspected them carefully.

“Mine’s for Wayne. You can do whatever with the other one.” His voice was still gruff with annoyance, but he looked at you from the corners of his eyes and you thought you’d seen a sparkle there.

You smiled to yourself. You’d win him over in no time.

── ⇌ • ○ • ⇋ ──

Sun was starting to set as you crossed the Mississippi River from Rock Island, Illinois, to Davenport, Iowa. Eddie kept going further and further until you were almost leaving the city, and something caught your eye.

“Look!” You pointed at the commotion on his side of the road, drawing his attention.

“A fair,” he observed, and the van was suddenly going slower.

“Think we should go?” He huffed at your question but didn’t deny you. Didn’t say anything for a while. You thought that was a clear no, but after a few more minutes of driving around you realized he was parking the van near other RVs and some camping tents.

“As good as any,” he mumbled before getting out. You got your bag and left the van as well. “Gonna pay for the camping, you can go get us tickets.”

You just nodded and found your way to the fair entrance, a nice arch-type building with the words ‘Mississippi Valley Fair’ and people taking pictures in front of it. It was a big deal, apparently. You had only gone to a fair once, many years ago, and didn’t remember much because you were too young. But all the lights, noise, talking, and laughter were riling you up. And you were thankful Eddie listened to your suggestion.

Tickets paid for, you waited just a few more minutes before Eddie showed up. You handed over his ticket and he nodded in gratitude before the two of you headed in.

There were a lot of people. The place seemed to be constructed specifically to host the fair, and the mixed accents around you confirmed the thought that it was a big deal, people from other cities and states coming to see it in person. A few signs and ads were pointing at specific places, areas and attractions, and you were overwhelmed in the best of ways.

“Where do we even start?” you asked Eddie and he shrugged.

“Bathroom.” And, again, didn’t wait for you before following a sign pointing at a restrooms area. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it.

He was like a feral kitten. You had to go in carefully, understand why he was so wary, make him trust you. You were willing to be patient.

So you followed him to the restrooms area with a joyful skip on your walk.

── ⇌ • ○ • ⇋ ──

Eddie was actually much more fun than he led on initially.

He paid for your hot dogs, yelled loudly in the Viking boat and elbowed you until you threw your arms up with him. Didn’t give you a single second of peace on the bumper cars. Made your belly hurt from so much laughter. At the small zoo, he gave the goats some grass to eat, and mimicked their baaa’s for the children watching to giggle at. You won him a goat plushie at one of the games and he looked proud and actually grateful.

It wasn’t all at once, of course. He opened up to you — slowly, but he did it. You won him over, and by the fireworks show at the end of the fair, his shoulder was pressed to yours in the middle of the bustling crowd and you could feel the tip of his pinky grazing over the tip of your pinky.

It was so easy to simply let go into this headspace where you forgot what you were doing, forgot where you were going, forgot that you were running. You went back to the camping grounds side by side, popsicles in hands, hairs damp with sweat and the moon bright over your heads. But you still felt it — in yourself and exhaling from Eddie in cold waves —, that it was coming to an end, that you were slipping back into the bittersweet reality of things, that you were remembering.

“Wake time tomorrow?” you asked as Eddie opened the van’s back doors and searched for something in one of his bags. He looked at his wristwatch — probably your alarm clock for the next day — before answering.

“Uh… eight? Wanna leave around nine.”

“Okay. You know where we’re headed next?” He eyed you from over his shoulder before shaking his head in a negative answer.

“Wait a second.” He went inside and closed the doors, and you looked around at the people leaving or making up their own camps. He didn’t take long, and soon opened the doors, changed into more comfortable clothes. Behind him, the bags and guitar case were tucked neatly by the side wall of the van, and the mattress had sheets on and two pillows. “You can go in and change, knock on the door once you’re ready.”

You nodded and went inside, quickly changing into something comfortable to sleep in after using some wet wipes under your arms, on your neck, chest and feet. You should’ve asked Eddie if he wanted some too. There was no way you’d be skipping a shower the next day.

You knocked on the door and were surprised that Eddie came in through the front door instead of the back one, grabbing one of the pillows on the mattress and getting himself ready to sleep on the front bench. You showed him the wipes, but he denied them with a quiet thanks before punching his pillow in and lying down. You couldn’t see him anymore. The goat plushie was on top of the dashboard, facing and looking through the windshield, a silent safeguard.

Lying down as well and grabbing the sheet neatly folded by the edge of the mattress, you covered yourself and sighed. It took a while until you were feeling sleepy, some lights outside still on — and the moon was very bright.

“Are you sure you’re still up for this? I could get you back, we’re not that far,” he practically whispered after a while, and you wouldn’t have listened if you weren’t so quiet yourself.

“We’re far away enough, Eddie. And I’m very sure,” you promised, and silence reigned again.

You stared at the back of the front bench for a while until you noticed Eddie’s breathing slow down and go steady and deep, showing that he had fallen asleep. Only then you closed your eyes, smell of popcorn still strong under your nose, and drifted off to sleep. Dreams of a Ferris wheel, you, a mop of wavy hair beside you and Metallica blasting somewhere in the distance.

taglist (is open!): @amira0303 @rupsmorge

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #lui writes #ifligh

[bobbyseyesmile]

Pride and Passion | 4

Chapter 4

Note: Chapter 4 takes place AFTER chapter 5. It may seem weird but I tried to play with the timelines a lil' bit. I don’t always continue the story where I left it off. Hope this helps a bit heh

⤝ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⤞ ➻ Pride and Passion masterlist

“Ding Dong!”

Rick turned his head around, the low and raspy voice way too familiar to his ears. He rolled his eyes and turned towards Daryl: “They’re here.”

Daryl nodded and buckled his crossbow over his shoulder. “I’ll tell the others, Tara’s with Carl and Judith in the house.”

“Good. Tell her to stay put there, I don’t want my other kids near this psychopath…”

Daryl’s eyes lingered on his best friend for another second before he nodded again. “I know. I’m sorry.” He felt like shit- even though Rick assured him hundreds of times that it wasn’t Daryl’s fault, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the only reason you weren’t here was because he had to lash out that fateful night.

Rick on the other hand knew how his friend felt, the guilt-ridden expression never leaving his face, but he didn’t hold any grudge towards Daryl. It wasn’t his fault.

Even though Rick was angry at you and your decision, he knew it was the right one in that heated moment. If it wouldn’t have been for you, others would have died- maybe even Carl. You were a grown-up woman and could handle yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that you were his daughter. And he cared. A lot.

“Ricky!” Negan’s voice echoed over the streets of Alexandria “How’s my favorite Rick doing? Ya got some new shit for me?”

“How is she?” It was the first question Rick asked every time the Saviors arrived. It made Negan chuckle every time, and he babbled about how good you were treated in his Sanctuary. But this time he didn’t chuckle and he didn’t babble his usual cocky responses.

“Well, Rick, I have to say your hot-looking daughter is a little force of nature. She causes me some troubles, not gonna lie.”

“W-what did she do?” Rick was sure whatever you did wasn’t your fault- you would never do stuff to endanger the group.

“She’s got a mouth oh her, ya know that? Talking back when she should be quiet, humiliating me in front of my people, even in front of my other wives… Tsk, tsk, tsk. You and I got a little problem there, you see where I’m coming from?”

“I’m sure if you would let me see her, I could-“

“Are ya shitting me, Ricky? What do you think, that I’m stupid?” Negan showed a row of his pearly whites before licking his lips “She’s a lot like you, Rick, and to be fair and square- I don’t fucking appreciate it, ya hear me? So maybe I should punish her by punishing you, ya think she would get that little message?”

Rick looked down to his feet, he started to feel dizzy. He was lost in his own thoughts when a loud bang ripped through the air, interrupting both men in their conversation.

“Fucking bitch!” a man yelled and both men started running towards the noises.

“What happened?” Rick asked and looked around staring in flustered and shocked faces. After a second he saw Rosita on the floor, a knife to her throat while she was held down by two men.

“This fucking bitch shot me!” the man held his bloody hand, clearly losing a finger in the whole process “I’m gonna kill her!”

“Woah, woah…” Negan walked in the circle of people that had formed and stared down at Rosita. “Did ya really just shot one of my men?”

“He didn’t stop molesting my friend- Tara didn’t do shit, she just kept the kids safe in the house.”

Negan stopped at her face for a while before turning to the wounded man: “Is that true? Did ya harass the nice lady who watched the kids?”

“They had shit hidden from us, I just wanted to check out what it was!”

“It was the baby food.” Tara suddenly intervened and had Negan’s attention “I-I had just finished making a bottle for the little one and put the formula away, I didn’t hide it- it was just bad t-timing, I swear.”

Negan looked around before nodding and slowly putting Lucille to his side. “Alrighty… See Rick, that’s exactly the fucking problem with you people- always causing me some trouble, we can never finish a trade in peace…”

“We’re sorry.” Rick muttered while rubbing his eyes. He started to get a migraine.

“We?” Negan repeated and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t ya mean, you are sorry for not having your people under control?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid.” Negan’s usual smirk was gone, he looked pissed and growled a few commands to his men that they should hurry and start the trucks. “And Rick?” Rick looked up, sweat dripping down his temple. “This shit today? Your daughter will pay for that.”

Rick’s head started spinning, the helpless feeling that he couldn’t do anything for you manifested in fear, whatever sick things Negan had planned for you. “Wait! Negan, I’m sorry what happened, I’m sure we can talk about it-“

Negan turned around, now pointing Lucille right at Ricks face: “Talking-time is over, Rick, gotta teach your people a lesson or two here: We take the hot Señorita with us." Negan pointed at Rosita who was immediately taken and shoved into the trucks while she screamed and struggled.

"You don’t fuck around with me, ya hear me? You do what I say, and for god’s sake! Keep your people in line or next time I’ll bring you a finger from your beautiful daughter, got it?”

Taglist: @toxic-ink @jaywinchestersalvatore @crosshajr @neganswoman @tone-stark (if you want to be added, pls let me know)

#Negan #TWD #the walking dead #negan x reader #negan smut #twd negan #negan fanfiction #negan imagine #negan fic #negan smith #carl grimes #rick grimes #twd fic #twd imagine #maggie rhee #daryl dixon #amc the walking dead #smut #fanfiction #jeffrey dean morgan #jdm smut #JDM #pride and passion #pride and passion chapter 4

[enhaheeseung]

At your service l. Heeseung

Pairing : live in maid heeseung x rich fem reader

Warnings : age gap, eventual smut, vulgar language, angst, heartbreak, dirty talk, an attempt at comedy, more to be added in later chapters.

Note : this was originally going to be an smau so there will be a lot of texting but it’s mainly written. I tried something different with the texting and writing style so bear with me.

Masterlist

WC 2,325

Chapter 2

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You were born into a rich family. You went to private schools with other rich kids. You got to spend as much money as you wanted. You were absolutely, utterly spoiled, but in the best way possible.

You always remained humble and never overstepped your boundaries when it came to the less fortunate.

A lot would say you're too giving, and that's why your generosity led you to a lot of heartbreak and fake friends.

Even being in your mid 30s, you still couldn't find the right one. And having friends just didn't seem like an option anymore.

The idea of falling in love with someone just to find out they only wanted you for your money was your biggest fear.

You lived alone thanks to your parents. They paid for all your expenses and even gave you an allowance. Whenever you tried to refuse, they'd insisted on giving you money, always reminding you that this was their goal in the first place to make enough money, so their kids never had to work.

Though you were grateful for them, you still wanted to be a bit more independent, but you decided to give in to their wishes and be an obedient daughter. after all, you weren't the brightest bulb in the room.

You got up extra early to get some cleaning done. But there was only so much you could do after cleaning. You tried to cook breakfast but failed miserably for the hundredth time, nearly burning down the whole mansion.

Luckily for you, there's a fire extinguisher and sprinklers in the kitchen.

You quickly put out the small fire sighing in defeat. Then it came to you.

A maid!

A live in maid!

Then you wouldn't have to cook or clean anymore, not to say you didn't want to but at least not the whole mansion every single day all by yourself, and you'd pay them a good amount.

You phoned your parents, and they instantly agreed upon hearing your story about breakfast, and they thought the company would be nice for you, seeing how they didn't get to visit you often.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

"What am I gonna do?" Heeseung sighed, thinking about his student loans,

"Get a job," his friend jay piped up.

"Please do enlighten me on what job pays 100k. In less than a year, I promised my parents I'd have it paid by now, and I haven't even made a dent," he rubbed at his temples.

"I told you not to do it."

"Some friend you are, maybe, you're right. I'll just get a job and pay back as much as I can. This is going to suck."

He opened his laptop, typing away at the keys, searching for a job.

"What are you searching for?" Jay inquired, looking at his elder friend's screen.

"A job? What do you think?" He said as if it was the stupidest question a person could ask.

"Well, excuse me" jay went back to eating his lunch.

"Ooh, what about a convenience store?"

"Too much labor for little pay, next"

"Okay, how about, let's see, a server?"

"Still no pay, and the tips you make will just average to minimum wage."

"Okay, know it all. I feel like giving up already" he leaned back in his chair.

"Come on, the heeseung I know never quits. Keep looking"

Right before he closed his laptop, his eyes scanned a listing that paid a hundred and fifty dollars an hour. He blinked, not believing his eyes.

"No way"

"What did you find?"

"A live in maid? It says it pays one hundred and fifty an hour."

"What?!" Jay nearly choked on his food, "what are you waiting for? apply before someone else does!"

"But what if it's a scam?"

"Just try it and see the worst that can happen is you get killed when you show up for an interview," jay said, completely unphased.

"Wow, thanks, I needed that"

He made an account and uploaded a picture, then typed in a few details about his situation and basic information like his date of birth and phone number. Once he finished, he pressed enter.

"I hope this is legitimate." A sigh left his lips.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

You got a notification a few minutes after putting up your listing. To your surprise, someone had already applied you unlock your phone reading through the application.

You were happy to see that they stated a bit about themselves and when you read that they really needed the job to pay off student loans, you really felt an obligation to help. You had more money than you knew what to do with, so why not help someone out.

You scrolled a bit further, and you were shocked to see his profile picture. He was in his early 20s, with brown hair and brown eyes, and extremely handsome.

Wait, he's like a lot of years younger than me. Get a grip.

You shook your head and accepted his application. Now you just had to contact him to meet him face to face.

You texted the number he entered in.

You : "Hi, this is y/n, I got your application, and I wanted to meet you in person to see if you meet the criteria. You can come anywhere in the afternoon. I'm free all week, so whatever works best for you.

You set your phone down, a small smile on your face anticipating your meeting.

You heard a ding and looked at your phone to see a notification from the same number.

Heeseung : "Actually, I just got out of school, so can I come over today?"

You : "Sure! I'll send the address now. What time are you thinking?"

Heeseung : "I'm about ten minutes out. Is that okay?"

You : "Yep, see you then!"

You shut off your phone, going to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. You tied your hair and sprayed a bit of perfume before going into the living room to wait.

Why am I so nervous? You held your chest, trying to calm down your racing heart.

You heard the doorbell ring, and it was exactly ten minutes later.

So he makes being on time a priority.

Noted.

You took one long breath and opened the door.

Wow, he's even more handsome in person. Oh, and how I wish I could shut off my stupid. Brain, for thinking of such things, he probably has a girlfriend anyway.

"Hi, you must be heeseung?" You offered your hand for him to shake.

"That's me, and you must be y/n?" He shook your much smaller hand.

"Yes," you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks from the slight contact of his warm hand on yours.

Have I always been down this bad?

"It's nice to meet you, y/n."

"You as well. Sorry I won't keep you standing out here any longer. Please make yourself at home."

He stepped in and took a quick look around before taking off his shoes at the door. Even though it was a mansion and he's never seen inside one before, somehow it still looked very homely, or maybe that was just normal.

"You like it?" You asked, noticing how intrigued he was by the mansion.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, are all mansions this, umm, modern?" He noted how everything looked very similar to his living space.

"Not all. But I try to keep it as simplistic as possible I'm not into all the fancy stuff."

"Well, I like it. It makes me feel like I'm at home."

"It could be your home soon. So, the listing I put up was pretty vague, so feel free to take a seat anywhere you'd like, and I'll get started with a few questions. I would have put the questions along with the posting, but I feel like face to face is more…

"Personal," he looked you in the eyes.

"Yeah, personal" your eyes immediately darted away from his.

You both sat down at your kitchen table.

"That makes sense, so y/n, what are your questions?"

"Right, so you'll just need to do a few very simple tasks. Seeing how I live alone, there's not that much. First on the list is laundry. The second is dishes, you looked at him, and he nodded his head for you to continue. "third is cooking, and fourth is yard maintenance like trimming the hedges and watering the lawn."

And then it hit you, how could I be so forgetful?

"I'm sorry, would you like something to drink?"

"It's okay. I'll just have water, please."

"One water coming up." You excused yourself from the table.

He watched you walk away and made sure to take a good look at your behind.

He pulled out his phone to text jay.

Real life Bambi🦌 : You're not going to believe this.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Tell me, and I will.

Real life Bambi🦌 : Okay, so the job is super simple. It's just like everyday housework like cooking and cleaning.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Okay, but you don't know how to cook.

Real life bambi🦌 : It can't be that hard. I'll practice when I get home.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't call me when you set the house on fire.

Real life bambi🦌 : I'll have you on speed dial, anyway. This is the part you're really not going to believe.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : I believed everything else, so I doubt it. But try me.

Real life bambi🦌 : My employer is female.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're fucking lying!

Real life bambi🦌 : told you! and guess what? She's literally so fucking hot, oh my god, like step all over me. Please, she could use me, throw me away, and I'd thank her.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Well, you know what that means? I have to pay you a little visit sometime😉

Real life bambi🦌 : No! Stay far away from here. I found her first.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have even gotten the job.

Real life bambi🦌 : Oh wait, that's true. I haven't even got the job yet :(

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't sweat it. I'm sure you'll get it.

Real life bambi🦌 : Fingers crossed, oh, she's coming back gotta run😍

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Simp

"Here's your water." You sat back down at the table.

"Thank you" you watched his adam's apple Bob up and down while he drank the water. You shook your head to focus back on the questions.

"Okay, those are basically the things you'll be doing on a daily basis, maybe shopping on the weekends, but it's all pretty straightforward. Any questions for me?"

"Why are you paying so much? I don't mean to be rude, but it just seems too good to be true."

"I have a lot of money to give, so a hundred for me is like a dollar, and when I saw that you're paying off student loans, I thought you'd be perfect for the job. I know just how pricey those loans can be, and I assumed it would be a less stressful job for a student."

"Are you an angel in disguise?" He chuckled.

"I'm whatever you want me to be" You wanted to cut your tongue out before you could say anything else stupid.

"I'll think on it" he took one last sip of his water, handing you the empty glass.

"I'll go and wash this and give you some time to think on it."

He gave you a smile.

Real life bambi🦌 : Okay, so I got the job.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Really?

Real life bambi🦌 : Well, she's given me a few minutes to think. she’s kinda doing the interview backwards, cause she’s giving me the final decision, but she’s honestly so nice.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Don't forget about me when you make it to the top.

Real life bambi🦌 : Yeah, yeah, She's like crazy hot and super beautiful, but I think she's a bit older than me :(

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Yeah, she's probably married too.

Real life bambi🦌 : I don't think so. She doesn't have a ring.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Well, then I'd say go for it, but wouldn't it be kinda weird living together?

Real life bambi🦌 : Yeah, that's true, but it's not like I'll need to work with her for long, so maybe I'll bone her on my last week😉

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're disgusting.

Real life bambi🦌 : What? I'm just looking at the bright side. Just think about it. I get to live in a mansion I'll make over a hundred a day, and I get to see her I'm living the life.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : You're still disgusting.

Real life bambi🦌 : Stay mad. You're just salty that it's not you.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : I'll stick to working a 9 to 5 and bang chicks that are actually my age.

Real life bambi🦌 : Boring. Not many people can say they got that ripe pussy at my age.

Jay park my car in your garage🐦 : Ooh, What a title to have

Real life bambi🦌 : gotta go. My sugar mama is coming 🥰

"So, have you made a decision yet?" you sat across from him at the table.

"You got yourself an employee." he gave you a wide smile.

"Great! When would you like to start?" I get a bit lonely around here, so the sooner, the better, but no pressure."

"Tomorrow is great for me."

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

Hi, I’m back with another series I’ll be updating by chapters Im not sure when the next update will be cause I haven’t finished all chapter’s yet, but if you have any ideas on when I should post the next chapter feel free to let me know.

Also tell me how you like it so far should I make any changes To the texting or writing style or is it fine the way it is?

I’m so nervous after posting this cause I feel like it’s so bad I haven’t wrote anything new since “taxi” and now I forgot how to write😭

🏷permanent taglist @hee-in @jayroseyy @axartia @bunhoons @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @scarlet127 @kpopscruggles @badidealy @heeseungleeworld @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @heesgirl @yjwnoot if you want to be added or removed, just leave an ask or comment.

Thanks for reading likes and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors and enjoy your day/night🤎

#enhypen heeseung #enhypen #lee heeseung #heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut

[crashdevlin]

Appointment in Samarra

Author’s Note: This is part Thirty of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: Dean goes to Death in an effort to save Sam. Everything falls apart from there.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word count: 4018

Story Warnings:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, Sam is a douchebag because no soul, there's some drugs in the mix but not recreationally

~~~

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" you asked, watching Dean toss his bag into the back of the Impala.

"No. This is the right call, Y/n."

"Ya know, I could kinda support working for a demon to get Sam's soul back, and I could kinda see working with another one to get him back for you, but Death? Really?" You slammed your hand on the driver's door to stop him from opening it and driving away. "You want to kill yourself to call a reaper in the hopes of getting ahold of-"

"Of the only Horseman who cared about setting shit back to normal after Lucifer popped out? Yeah! You got a problem with that, Y/n?" Dean snapped.

"Yes! I do. Death does not owe you a favor! Death is fucking Death! You're really gonna ask him to save Sam?! He's part of why Sam ended up in the Cage in the first damn place!"

"Sam ended up-" Dean shook his head and grabbed your wrist. "Come with me or don't."

You pulled your hand back and crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm not going to watch you die to save Sam again."

"Then I'll see you when I got Sam back."

You watched him drive away until you couldn’t see the taillights anymore.

"He just won't let it go." Sam's voice made you jump and turn to find him leaning against the motel door. "Even after both Cas and Crowley said my soul is probably shredded, he still wants to put it-"

"We've done Hell, Sam. If we could live with it, then you-"

"Shouldn't have to. After everything I've been through, you really think I deserve-"

You rolled your eyes and pulled out the motel key. "You don't get to make that decision, Sam. You chose to die. After everything, you chose to die. Someone brought you back. You don't get to decide that you don't have to feel it."

"You know I could kill you without giving it a second thought, and you still have the balls to talk to me like that?"

You pushed the key into the lock and twisted it, looking over your shoulder at him as you pushed the door open. "You could have killed me a hundred times. You don’t have the balls to go through with it."

"Omega, stop," he growled, and your body stopped in its tracks. Sam's arm wrapped around your chest and yanked you back into his body. Fear flooded you as you tried to resist the Voice. "You forget how easy I could turn you into exactly what you've been trying not to be. A few simple words in the right tone, and you're fucking putty. You wanna act all big and bad, but without Dean and Dad around to stop me, you are just another weak little omega who doesn't know her place. I could mark you all over again if-"

"I will cut you out of me again if you try," you promised.

"Not if I took you somewhere secret and locked you up. Knocked you up. Leave you naked and pregnant, just like an omega's supposed to be."

"You're gonna hate yourself for this shit when Dean gets your soul back," you growled out as John's voice rang out across the parking lot.

"The hell's wrong with you?! Let 'er go!" John's scent enveloped you as his hand wrapped around your upper arm and pulled you from Sam's grasp. "What, as soon as your brother drives away, you take a stab at Y/n? You might not have a soul, but you know better than to take another alpha's-"

"She doesn't belong to him. I don't have a soul, and that's why I can see this for what it is: a lovesick omega following around an alpha who might love her with everything in him but will never make her his because he will never take away her escape hatch." Your heart fell into your stomach at Sam's words. Why did they have to seem so fucking accurate? "She's gonna die waiting for him," Sam finished before walking away and jumping into the back of John's truck.

"He doesn't mean that. He's just tryin' to hurt you. Dean loves you, girl."

"Yeah, I know...but…” You smiled up at John and shrugged. “Sam’s not wrong. He’s an asshole, but he’s not wrong, John. Dean’s never going to mark me. I’ve made my peace with that.”

“You can’t have. You’re-”

You patted his shoulder and reached down to pick up your duffel bag from inside the door. “One day, I’m gonna go into heat, and I’m not gonna be able to come down. The fever is gonna boil my brain, and my organs are gonna shut down, and it’ll be because Dean wanted to give me the opportunity to find an Alpha better than him. I know that. I know that’s how I’m gonna go out. More than Dean knows he’s gonna go out on a hunt someday. I have made my peace. Because I have his love, I don’t need his mark.” You laughed a little sadly and looked into his eyes. “Tell me you feel anything else in me.”

“It’s not fair,” he said, eventually.

“Life never is.” You walked past him and climbed into the cab of the truck, your bag at your feet.

~~~~

"Death agreed to get his soul back?” John asked, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “I got him to agree to go down and pluck-”

“You what?!” Sam exploded.

“Just hear me out,” Dean implored.

“I heard Cas and Crowley when they said it would either kill me or turn me to Jell-o, Dean! I heard enough!”

“Death said he can put up a wall.”

“A wall?”

“Yes. Yes, a wall that--that, basically, you wouldn’t remember Hell.”

You rolled your eyes at the idea that Sam would get away without any of the damage of Hellfire.

“Really?”

“Really,” Dean confirmed.

“For good? Like a cure?”

Dean looked over to you, Bobby, and John. “No, it’s not a cure. It...he said it could last a lifetime.”

“Great. So, playin’ pretty fast and loose with my life here, don’t you think, Dean?”

“I’m trying to save your life!”

“Exactly, Dean! It’s my life! It’s my life, it’s my soul...and it sure as hell ain’t your head that’s gonna explode when this whole scheme of yours goes sideways!” Sam exclaimed.

You shook your head and stood. “Here’s a question. Death isn’t really the type to just do this kind of major thing out of the goodness of his Horseman heart. What’s on the line on your end, Dean?”

Sam looked like he hadn’t even considered it, but Bobby and John both leaned forward as Dean looked away, uncomfortable. “Sorry, we didn’t get that,” Bobby urged.

“I have to wear the ring for a day,” Dean answered.

“Why the hell would he want you to do that?” Bobby asked.

“Get his rocks off. I don’t know. But I’m doin’ it.” Sam scoffed and started to walk out of the study. “Where you goin’?” Dean asked.

“Look, I hear you, all right? I get it. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, all right?”

You watched as Sam grabbed his jacket and disappeared out the door into the salvage yard. “You know he went to-”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted, before patting his pocket. “Way ahead of ‘im.”

You looked up into his eyes and licked your lips. “Okay. So...Death for a day, huh?”

“Gonna try to talk me out of it?”

“Nope.” You leaned against Bobby’s desk and shrugged. “I’d never win.”

“Damn right.” Dean grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as he headed out the door, Bobby following him.

John stayed behind. “Wow. I can’t even imagine doing Death’s job.”

You licked your lips and looked over at the bookshelf. “I can. I’ve...I’ve had long conversations with Hades and Charon about...reaping...death.” You scoffed and spun to grab a book. “It’s so unfair. I remember...I remember Hell. I remember the Underworld. I remember the torture and the fear and the hopelessness and Sam...Sam gets to forget. How unfair.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” You flipped open the book and looked down at a classical drawing of Hades. “Life’s unfair.”

~~~~

Your bed seemed too soft. The pillows hurt your neck. You stared at the ceiling above you but it didn’t matter. No sleep would come with Dean playing Death and Sam...somewhere. You turned on your side and looked across the room.

Dean would do anything for that jerk. Sam had been horrible to you in so many ways. With his soul, without his soul, on demon blood, sober...none of it seemed to really matter. Sam could do anything and Dean would still risk life and limb for him.

“Sam’s back. Wouldn’t tell us where he went,” Bobby said, stepping into your doorway.

“Doesn’t matter. When Dean gets back, everything will go back to how it used to be...which will be...just fine, I suppose.”

"You don't really sound too keen on that, girl."

You sat up and shrugged. "Sam has been...five different kinds of...he hasn't really respected me in a long time, Bobby. He went off to Stanford, became a 'normal' jerk, and forgot who he was...forgot who I was. Every once in a while, I'll get a glimmer of the old Sam but...the surface Sam...even when he has a soul...when we get him back…"

"Then maybe you shouldn't be with them boys anymore, Y/n." You rolled your eyes and looked away. "No, I know. You love Dean. We all know you love Dean but look at it clear." Bobby stepped in and kneeled down in front of you. "You can always love again. There is an alpha out there that'll love you every bit of what Dean does, who will mark you and not leave you twisted like this...who won't leave you to die...who won't pick his brother over you. Those boys are family and I love 'em, you know I do, but Dean will always put Sam ahead of everythin' else and Sam will always kinda feel like you shoulda been his."

You shook your head. "Bobby, you can’t lecture me about all the fish in the sea." You looked away and focused on the clock on your side table. "You never remarried. You don't date. You found your love and you have-"

"That's not the same thing. What happened to...my wife, it was traumatic...and it ain't like there's a lot of women my age who'd understand my life."

"And who is gonna understand my life, huh?" You stood and leaned against your dresser as Bobby stood. "No one would. Not even other hunters."

"Well, maybe you don't go fer a hunter this time, Y/n." Bobby's words made your eyebrows come together in confusion. "Yer daddy didn't want you in this life. He didn't want you with some asshole hunter alpha and he didn't-"

"It's too late! We already fucked that up years ago and-" You interrupted but Bobby talked over you.

"He didn't want you to be a hunter either and it ain't too late for you to get out of the game and set up in a-"

"It is too late!" You threw your hands up and stomped around him, irritation pouring off of you. "I am too damaged to even attempt normal."

"No, you are not. If Dean could do normal for a year with Lisa and her boy, then you can-"

"Did you bring that up just to hurt me?" you snapped.

Bobby’s entire demeanor softened. “No, of course not.” He reached out and gently grabbed your shoulders. “I never want to hurt you. I’m just sayin’...Dean has been through the same thing you’ve been through...and he was able to-to spend all that time...he was able to be normal, Y/n, for a year. You could be normal, too.”

“Why are you pushing for this now? Huh?”

“Because Dean’s never gonna abandon Sam...and Sam’s always going to be a sore subject for you...and you…” Bobby sighed and looked pointedly at your neck. “You’re free, Y/n. You don’t have marks. You don’t have scars. You have love and devotion for a man who has finally admitted he feels the same and I know that is an amazing thing for you but why don’t you take your freedom and-”

Fear and anger flooded you and it took you a moment to realize that the feelings weren’t your reaction to Bobby’s words. A flash of Sam standing over John with a large wrench hit you and you flew into action, slapping Bobby’s hands off of you and diving for the box of medicine under your bed.

“What’s going on?”

“Sam’s off his nut, go stop him!” you said, pulling out a syringe and a small glass vial. You didn’t even try to calculate how much propofol would be required for an alpha with 200 pounds of pure muscle; you just filled the syringe and followed Bobby down the stairs and into the kitchen. You gasped at the image of Bobby trying to wrestle the heavy wrench away from Sam as John lay bleeding on the floor in front of the fridge. You jumped at him, jamming the needle into his carotid. He growled and you fell back as he thrashed to get Bobby off of him.

“Get off! I have to do this!”

“You’re insane! That’s your father!” Bobby grunted out as you stood and jammed the plunger of the syringe down, flooding Sam’s system with sedatives.

You dropped to your knees next to John, putting your hand over the gaping wound on the side of his head. “Oh, god, John. Bobby, get me a towel as soon as Sam drops!”

“What’d you give ‘im?” Bobby’s voice strained as Sam went limp against him.

“Propofol.”

“Why do you have propofol?”

“Why do you have opium?” you snapped as you snatched the towel he offered you from his hand. “I thought it might knock me out long enough to get through a heat, but it only worked for a few hours.”

Bobby didn’t ask for further explanation as he checked John’s pulse and stepped away to grab Sam’s arms and pull him toward the basement.

“W’happen?” John groaned as his eyes fluttered open.

“Sam tried to kill you. Can you sit up?”

“Yeah.” John set his hands down and tried to sit up, but failed. “Guess not.”

“You’re probably concussed. We’ll get you onto the couch in the study in a minute. What the fuck happened?"

“Um...he said...he had to. He said that...he had to make his vessel...unfit or…”

You sighed heavily. “Of course. If he makes his vessel unclean, his soul won’t go back. Patricide.” You shook your head and stood, planting your feet on the tile and grabbing his hands, pulling him to his feet.

“How’d you stop ‘im?” John asked, limping toward the couch in the study.

“I gave him a bunch of propofol.”

“What, really? How’d you know how much to give him?”

“I didn’t.”

“Wait.” John grabbed your elbow as he stopped in front of the couch. “Is he gonna die? Isn’t that what killed Michael Jackson?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m pretty sure that doctor gave Jackson too much-”

“I don’t know if Sam is going to die, John,” you clarified. “And I don’t care. I didn’t have time to calculate how much to give him, I just saved your life.”

“Thank you. I...can’t…”

“Just lay down and get some rest. Bobby and I will deal with Sam.”

John nodded slowly and sat down, resting his head against the arm of the couch. His eyes fluttered closed and you ran your hand down your face before turning to head down into the basement.

~~~~

"How long's he gonna be out?"

You shrugged and ran the tip of your knife under your thumbnail. "I don't know. I've never shot up a full-grown, soulless monster before."

"Ya know, you're real fucking nonchalant about the fact that you might've killed my brother," Dean growled.

"Next time, I'll let him kill everybody in a bid to keep your plan to restore his soul from working out," you responded, clicking the knife closed and tucking it in your pocket. "Speaking of failures, when he does wake up, we just gonna leave him locked in the panic room for the rest of his life or what?"

"I didn’t fail," Dean protested. “And I learned...I went back...I fixed…”

"Didn't succeed," you argued. "You couldn’t hack it as Death and I think I saw that coming because you've never been able to really handle anyone's passing...especially Sam...and isn't that the lesson Death was going for? All things must end, all things must die, stop obsessively trying to skirt death?"

"I didn’t bring Sam back this time. I...I stayed in Cicero. I did what I promised! Someone else brought him back and I'm supposed to pay for it?"

"Of course. It's your job, isn't it? You've always been responsible for that kid."

"She's very smart, isn't she?" a voice with a proper tone made your head snap to the right, where a skinny man in black was suddenly sitting at the table. “Dean, join me. Brought you one.” The Horseman offered Dean a hotdog wrapped in foil. “From a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs. Sit.”

“Should I?” You motioned at the door to the study.

“No, no. Stay. I didn’t bring a dog for you, unfortunately.” He gestured at the seat on his left as Dean sat in the one on his right.

“Wow, what’s with you and cheap food?” Dean asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Death replied. “Thought I’d have a treat before I put the ring back on.” Dean pulled the ring out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. “Heavier than it looks, isn’t it? Sometimes, you just want the thing off. But you know that.” Death picked up a beer and looked down at Dean’s unopened hot dog. “Not hungry?”

“Look. I think you know that I flunked. So there.” Dean thunked the ring down on the table between them. “Oh, and by the way, I, uh...I sucked at bein’ you. Really screwed up the whole ‘natural order’ thing. But I’m sure you knew about that, too.”

“So, if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl? No fuss, no stompling your feet?”

“Knowing what I know now, yeah.”

“I’m surprised to hear that,” Death said, before taking a drink of his beer. “Surprised and glad.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get excited. I would saved the nurse, okay? That’s it.”

“I think it’s a little more than that. Today, you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order's not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? This is hard for you, Dean. You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine.” The way those words were said, it seemed like Death was trying to convey some cryptic message. “So...I think you've learned something today.”

“Want to know what I think? I think you knew that I wouldn't last a day,” Dean accused.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I lost. Fine. But at least have the balls to admit that it was rigged from the jump.”

The chill that went through Dean at the look Death gave him was felt by you from across the table. “Most people speak to me with more respect,” Death warned.

“I didn't mean…”

“We're done here. It's been lovely.” Death stood, obviously unhappy with Dean’s attitude. “But now I'm going to go to hell to get your brother's soul.”

Both of you looked up at Death with wide eyes. “Why would you do that for me?” Dean asked.

“I wouldn't do it for you. You and your brother and this one keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale.

“Apologize for that.”

“But you have use. Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean.”

“So you're just gonna be cryptic, or…”

Death leaned over Dean, picking up the ring from the table. “It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to.”

“Wait,” Dean urged as Death started to slip the ring onto his finger. “With Sam...Is this wall thing really gonna work?

“Call it 75 percent.”

As Death disappeared, you and Dean stared at each other. “So, that was Death? Seems nice enough,” you eventually said.

“How long do you think-”

“He’s Death.” You stood and started for the basement, Dean rushing ahead as soon as you hit the bottom of the stairs. You watched from the corner as Sam screamed and Death gave him his soul and the wall. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d get to not remember. You walked up the stairs and into the study, looking down at John as he slept.

“It’s not fair, is it?” You gasped as you turned to see Death standing in the doorway, leaning on his cane.

“Life’s not-”

“Yes, I’ve been around long enough to have garnered that gem of wisdom,” he said, a bit condescendingly. “You were sent to Hell. Your soul was rescued, given new life. You died trying to prevent the End. Your soul was rescued, given new life. You are a scarred and scared young woman who never wanted to be a twice-dead, thrice-alive omega Hunter in the first place.”

“I’m not a young woman,” you whispered.

“I’ve been around longer than almost anything in the universe, Y/n. You’re an embryo compared to me.” Death stepped forward, tilting his head slightly as he examined you. “But you’re right. Why should you have to remember what has damaged you when Sam gets to forget?”

“I’m not the special Winchester Lucifer vessel that saved the world. That’s why Sam gets-”

“That isn’t what I’m asking. I’m asking if you want to forget as well.”

Your eyebrows came together at the question. If he could make you forget Hell, you could sleep again. You could dream again. You could move forward, move on. “Yes, but why would you?”

“I’m a fan of equality,” Death said, reaching out his hand.

“Will I remember not to scratch at the wall?”

“Oh, I’m doing something slightly different for you, my dear,” he responded, before fitting his palm against your forehead.

~~~~

You woke up and stretched. Today was going to be a good day. New city, new job, new start. You wished your dad was alive to see this. Or Bobby. You missed them both fiercely, but they were Hunters. Hunters never survived for long.

That’s why you promised your dad you would never pick up the rock salt, because he wanted his little girl to live a long, happy, normal life.

“31 years down, 70 more to go,” you whispered to the Heavens as you got out of bed and headed for the shower. As you undressed, your focus pinpointed the smooth skin of your neck. You suddenly yearned for a mark, but that was silly. You didn’t have an alpha. You didn’t know any alphas worth being marked. The only alphas you’d ever spent any real time with were Sam and Dean but you hadn’t seen them since you were a teen. “Silly omega bullshit.” You shook your head at yourself and got into the shower to get ready for your first day as a curator for the Natural History Museum.

“It’s gonna be a good day.”

#cassie writes stuff #spn fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!dean #alpha!john #alpha!sam #omega!reader #soulless sam