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aperrywilliams · 2 days

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It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?

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Reader's POV

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As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.

I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home.

It doesn't feel like it yet.

But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.

Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up?

How naive of me.

I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.

Again, it's tomorrow's problem.

Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.

The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.

He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable.

What a shame.

When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.

I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.

But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.

The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.

Fuck it.

Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.

Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.

Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?

Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.

Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.

It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.

Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.

It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.

Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.

Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.

I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.

It was horrible until it wasn't.

I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.

Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?

Monday morning comes faster than I wanted.

I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.

Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.

On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.

This Monday will be a blast.

Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.

"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.

"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.

"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."

The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name.

I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.

My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.

I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.

Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.

I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.

Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.

Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.

My ex didn't. And as him, many others.

I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.

Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.

Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.

"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.

"Of course. I promised I would."

Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.

"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.

"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.

It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.

I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.

"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."

Andie nods in understanding.

"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"

Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.

That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.

"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."

"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night.

I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.

"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."

Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.

"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.

"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"

"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.

The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.

"Do you think you'll see him again?"

I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'

That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?'

Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?

"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.

"But do you want to?"

That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.

"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."

A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.

She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.

Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.

Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.

----

A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there.

Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.

But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.

I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.

I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.

"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."

I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.

With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.

I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.

Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.

"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.

Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.

"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.

"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.

"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.

"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."

Weird.

Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.

"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.

"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"

A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.

Wait. I know that voice.

I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.

I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.

"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.

"Uh?"

"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.

"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.

"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.

"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."

"To you, sir. Have a good evening."

I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.

Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.

"(Y/N), wait!"

I turn and see him trotting towards me.

"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.

Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago.

"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?

"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."

"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.

"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."

Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?

"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.

"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.

I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.

"Yeah, me too."

Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...

"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."

Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.

Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.

"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.

"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Yeah?"

"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."

----

This time, it's my turn to pick the place.

It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.

As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.

"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."

There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.

"What about yours?"

Now is my turn to talk about my boss.

"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."

The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala.

When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.

"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.

"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.

"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.

So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.

"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.

"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."

That's interesting. I want to know more about that.

"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.

Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.

I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.

"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."

"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.

"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."

What? Kick doors down?

"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"

I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.

Spencer's eyes widen.

"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."

I roll my eyes. That's not the point.

"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"

Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.

Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"

He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."

I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"

Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.

"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.

Gosh, that smile.

"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."

Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.

"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."

Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.

"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."

Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.

It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.

"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.

"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.

I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.

"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."

"Fair enough."

After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.

"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."

Spencer's brow furrows.

"Ray is your ex?"

Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.

Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.

"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.

"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.

I chuckle. "Hell, he is."

It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.

"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.

"No. Don't do that. I invited you."

Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless.

"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."

Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.

We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.

"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.

"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.

"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes.

Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.

"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.

"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.

"So you really like my company, uh?"

I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.

"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.

The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.

I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.

Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.

"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."

Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.

Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.

"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.

"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.

Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.

I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.

"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling.

I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.

"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."

Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!

"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"

Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.

"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.

"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.

I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.

A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.

"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.

"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.

"Bet I won't."

"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, (Y/N)."

I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.

Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.

Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.

I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.

Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)?

Whatever it is, it feels so good.

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A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

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arklay · 1 year

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DIANA x ALBERT WESKER / template.

#mine.#pair: ewskers #oc: diana #click for better quality ♡#posting this before i start changing more things lmao but yes i went nuts and made my own psd from scratch... don't look at me #changed ages to birth years cause of how much time passes in the story!! and also gives cheeky fc for you hehe runs away #the checkboxes make me scream like he almost had a clean sweep it's so funny. and he could've had one more i'm not even joking. cause their #first kiss was technically both of them... like idk how to explain this but they were already standing close then diana moved even closer #and was tracing his jaw and such and they were just lingering while holding eye contact but he was the one who actually closed the distance #so i mean... yeah. she was just about to and he beat her to it!! but diana made the move to get them into that position in the first place #is what i mean. i just couldn't give him more it was already too hilarious lmao #can't tell if i like the lil icons but i can't doodle so peace and love on planet earth but yes i'm happy with how this came out hehe #clueless levels are cause they are clowns <3 i have a lot of thoughts about all that but yes they both take hints in some aspects but i #think they both have trouble telling if they are genuine or not or if they are misreading the situation or whether something is romantic or #not (unless ofc it's over the top and ridiculous. ahem. excella. cough. explodes her with my mind) but yeah hit him with the tism so he's #learnt how to read people very well as he's gotten older but i think when it comes to actual just genuine like wanting to get to know #someone and not just someone wanting to get in his pants he seconds guesses it a lot. and diana's all stems from being rattled by her past #experiences oughguhh and i mean her not actually having experienced proper feelings for someone until him lmao but she's got trust issues #also there were so many tropes i could use (thank you to bestie elliot for helping me finds names of things) but i had to do i got you a #drawer specifically because that moment has such a special place in my heart!! like i need to finish the wip where i talk about that cause #it makes me so silly i'm not even joking #anyway omg i hope the mentions work because doing this on the legacy editor after copying the html for beta one because the image just #didn't want to work in the beta image for some reason rip

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pondscummy · 27 days

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so me and roommate L talked on Sunday and I finally like aired some of my grievances and was like hey you really hurt me w how you treated me during my recovery and I realized I actually really don't feel like I can safely communicate with you and I haven't felt like I could for a very long time. and they did apologize and we decided to just be polite roommates and not friends at all and that's a big relief honestly bc now I'm not carrying around this tension the way I was before bc I know there's not expectation from either side but like. it's also freed me up mentally where I'm not thinking about all the immediate stuff anymore and instead I'm like remembering various random things that pissed me off but weren't big enough to focus on before lmao

the one I'm stuck on rn is how insistent they are that I'm on the spectrum. idk they do a lot of explaining myself to me that makes me like. bro shut Up you don't know what my lived experience is like lol you have no concept of anything. which. for context I have a dx and I thought I was on the spectrum for years and years but weirdly enough going to therapy and working through my ptsd made a lot of those symptoms just.... start vanishing. and one of my friends had been undiagnosed for the same reason so it got me thinking about it and talking to my therapist at the time and like. ptsd can present rly similarly. like I was neglected and abused as a child and I literally did not learn social skills, and I was very fearful of other people. as I like worked through the stuff that had instilled that in me and found my stride w stepping out of my comfort zone and getting comfortable being uncomfortable I really don't find it particularly hard to talk to people. I retook the RAADS and I got that I have tendencies but am not anywhere near diagnostic level. I'm literally moving states bc I find the idea of being in a new place and starting from scratch socially rly exciting and I want to like go out to events on my own and meet people both through apps and more organically and I want to get to be in the office with my coworkers like. obv there's more to a dx than just social anxiety but the things that my dx was primarily based in (social anxiety, need for stability/routine, aversion to connection, even sensory issues) are so easily linked back to trauma for me and like. being on the spectrum doesn't go away w therapy?? also I've found it harder and harder to befriend other people on the spectrum; I find I have less in common as time goes on and that my communication style is more focused on like small talk and less directness etc. and I don't tend to get special interests at all anymore like I find it a little difficult to discuss interests w people for long periods of time.

anyway idk my experiences just make me think that it was an incorrect dx but a rly understandable one. I'll probably always have tendencies and get along pretty well w others who do or who are on the spectrum but like I just don't think that I am. and whenever I tried to talk about this with them they'd shut it down and be like um I'm pretty sure you are lmao. and when we talked Sunday I made a comment about making some assumptions about their facial expressions at one point and they were like well we're both on the spectrum so. and I was like my guy I can read facial expressions just fine. if you're saying I can't read yours accurately bc You're on the spectrum then fine. sure. I actually think it's bc you're always so fucking stoned that every muscle in your face is dangling from the frame, personally, but like. i don't have this probably of misreading anyone else dude. like ffs stop armchair diagnosing me and acting like bc you said it then it's law. UGHHHHHHHHHGGGHHHH. it would be one thing if I thought they were saying this stuff bc they think I'm distancing myself out of internalized ableism or something. but it really seems more like they bring it up only to tell me how bad I am at things. which like I'm sorry lmao but. if I'm not giving this vibe to anyone else and I'm not displaying symptoms predominantly in my day to day life and if they're rly seeming to be correlated to my ptsd, maybe you're literally just triggering for me to be around. asshat

#pond.txt #anyway anywho. this one has been bugging me forever #i just don't meet the criteria anymore i don't want to pretend to have something if i clearly don't. that feels weird and fucked up #and EVEN IF IM WRONG 1. not their place to decide and 2. it's literally not a disability if it's not causing me struggles #i befriend people easily. i don't feel anxious doing daily things. I've been doing great in my career which is Literally an influencr #*influence based role where my job is to help bridge gaps between departments and find compromises and deliver presentations and sometimes #argue w people in a way that doesn't cause conflict like my role is So social. it's all working w people smoothly and effectively and i've #gotten 2 raises and a promotion since october and I'm being considered for another promotion and my boss wants me to try for a raise again #next year like. i'm well-known and well-liked and that's not to say that's not possible for people on the spectrum bc everyone is different #but when i personally got diagnosed it was on the basis that this sort of stuff was unfathomable lmao. i couldn't make phone calls or hold a #conversation or project any sort of confidence at all like. the things i received my dx for no longer exist #idk he makes me feel like I'm genuinely out of my mind for thinking i could POSSIBLY have been mis-dxed

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transgender-catboy · 7 months

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I love my friends

#i think im just going to talk in the tags for a moment. got a lot on my mind #for starters. the fnaf movie comes out soon. really looking forward to that. think its gonna be awesome and amazing and I'm super excited!!!#secondly. waiting on funds so i can buy that mask i saw the other day and some Halloween candy from Walmart #i . want to do little goodie bags for the kids in my building. but im too scared to go up to their parents and ask candy preference and #allergy concerns. so. idk. maybe I'll just save it. I think it's a cute concept but it makes me feel like my mother.#she loved to do little gift things for people. but it was always people that didn't like her. i don't want to be that way #i know my value. i know my time and energy means something. i don't want to waste it on people who don't give a shit. ya know?#not saying the kids are those kinds of people. not what i mean. but just as an overall thing. i don't like being like her.#...yeah. i dunno. you get raised by one person your whole life. you pick up some of their characteristics #i can't sob without sounding like her. safe to say i am a little emotionally constipated. so i seek other means to relieve that feeling.#like yesterday when i threw up. i played it off like that was a blunder on my body. but i know what i did.#hey. at least it's not the other method. right?. .. yeah. okay. i know. not great either #but it hurts. and I'm so fucking sick and tired of crying over her. genuinely. it's exhausting crying all the time #but that's the only way I can get those emotions out #I've tried to do the counseling thing. but other things made that impossible. then i moved.#and i tried the grief thing but instead i just got a talking buddy? he helps me get out of the house yeah.#but we dont talk about her #... i dunno. I'm just here.#guess i waited long enough. now you get a mini secret. every time i make an i love my friends post. I'm reminding myself why I'm still going #I'm usually sitting around somewhere in my apartment (desk couch bed) crying. alone. thinking about you guys.#so uh. thank you.#i love you guys so much. and i don't know where I'd be without you #probably dead.#💖#vent

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cream-stew · 5 months

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So I saw you want prompts in your inbox and I'm a quiet lurker when it comes to your works especially that Neuvillette fic ahshshhssh I'm a proud dragon and monsterfucker so if you don't mind another fic that's kinda similar or all round different with Neuvillette and Zhongli please

Just Dragons fucking their darling wife to breed full of eggs you can ignore the eggs part if you're uncomfortable or change it

And I hope to interact with you more if that's ok🥺🐑

Ps. Size kink go brrrrrr

🔞minors dni

warnings: afab reader, monsterfucking, belly bulge, creampie, size kink, reader gets stuffed with eggs (genuinely idk if this should count as pregnancy but since it doesn't disturb me like pregnancy does I'll allow it <3 )

// note: monsterfucking is always 10/10 so I definitely don't mind lol also yeah you're more than welcome to interact more !! I always enjoy seeing your url in my notes thank you for the prompt <3

neuvillette: he's very worried you'll end up hurting yourself bc you're riding him SO forcefully, whimpering and gasping for breath whenever you're fully seated on his huge dragon cock, but he should have expected that the moment he let slip he could fill you up with his eggs... like. how else did he think you could react? ofc you'd scream and beg for him to fuck you like that, you're not a fucking coward!! and the more it goes on, the less control he has on his baser instincts, and it's not long before he flips your positions and pins you to the mattress so he can pump in and out of your eager pussy at his own pace, even more frenzied than your own... who was he fooling with all that "noooo the size of my dragon form would be too much for you my beloved don't do it haha" talk from before, obviously he wanted nothing more than to fill you to the brim😌 and he's just as into the size difference thingy as you are, staring at the bulge in your poor tummy whenever he slams his cockhead all the way though your womb, sometimes even pressing his palm down on it so that you'll feel even more pressure in your insides !

zhongli: he's stunned that you'd let him do that but he doesn't need to ask twice. he locks you in a mating press immediately, not even letting either of you strip, he just rips your clothes to shreds and fucks you against the carpet, making you feel him shift in his dragon for while he's already balls deep in your pussy. you are so wet for him luckily, so the stretch stings pleasantly more than anything else and you just cling to his shoulders moaning and babbling about how "you've never been this full before!" despite his eagerness it takes him a while to actually get going at his usual vicious pace, too busy mouthing at your neck and leaving bruises and bitemarks wherever he can reach, but by the time you're telling him just how ready you are for his eggs in excruciating detail, he can do nothing more but actually start railing you as roughly as he can... you feel him cumming deep inside you and way more cum than usual flooding your pussy, but before you can say anything else you finally feel several eggs press inside in rapid succession! it's a real stretch to fit them all inside your tight pussy, but you'll do anything for your dragon husband <3

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader

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hyuckiefluff · 4 months

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𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | na jaemin

pairing: roommate!na jaemin x fem reader

genre: smut

wc: 1.6k

summary: jaemin notices how innocent you are and he can’t help but take advantage of this.

content warning: loss of virginity, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, missionary, reader is very inexperienced, jaemin is pretty manipulative, usage of pet names (good girl, princess, angel)

a/n : this is not what i was planning to post next but oh well it’s here now! hope u enjoy it! feedback is greatly appreciated as always and happy new year! my new year’s resolution as a writer is to stop trying to write a million stories at once and then not posting any of them lol. also just realized this is my second time writing roommate jaemin hehe idk i’m kinda obsessed with him and this trope

pss: would you guys like me to post drabbles? i’ve been thinking about it but can’t decide, lemme know in the comments or my req/ask box :))

masterlist

Jaemin was so glad that you were clueless.

When he first moved in as your roommate, he immediately noticed you were too trusting… Letting a stranger like him move in with you without asking many questions. But the rent was good and the prospect of living with someone as pretty as yourself kept him from saying anything about it.

As he discovered the extent of your innocence, Jaemin found himself unable to resist taking advantage of it. He wanted to know just how much he could get away with.

So, on a particularly chilly winter night, Jaemin seized the opportunity and knocked on your door while you were cozily tucked into bed.

"Can I sleep here, princess? I think the heating broke down in my room," Jaemin asked, his head peeking through the door.

Even he knew that was a weak excuse. The apartment had centralized heating, so if it worked in your room, it definitely worked in his. But surprisingly, you fell for it.

"Oh, of course, Jaem," you replied with the softest tone, the nickname you’d given him already making him semi-hard.

He joined you in bed, keeping some initial distance. However, as soon as he noticed you in the skimpiest pajama dress, he felt himself growing harder in his sweatpants. You lay facing him, a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes glowing in the night light, completely oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind and down to his dick.

"Are you okay, Jaem?" you asked softly, noticing him wince and shift a bit.

"Uhm... yeah, just... uncomfortable," he said absentmindedly.

"Are you uncomfortable with me?" you asked, your big eyes staring up at him.

"Oh no no, princess, it's not you. It's just..." he sighed, "Sometimes it hurts down there, and it will keep hurting until I do something about it."

It's amusing how he tried so hard to explain it, treating you like a kid despite you being his age, and ironically, the reason he was like this in the first place.

"Why does it hurt?" you asked, genuine worry in your eyes.

Contemplating whether to use your innocence to his advantage, he decided to take the risk. "Well, you see... whenever I'm with you, it kind of just hurts. It gets so hard, and I can’t handle it," he said, hoping you bought his act.

"Because of me?" you brought your hands to your cheeks, the action pushing your boobs together and making them practically spill out of your pjs "And c-can I make it better somehow? I feel so bad..."

Oh, clueless pretty thing.

"Of course, you can make it better, princess... you're the only one who can," he said, getting closer to your smaller frame. You didn't move away and simply let him grab your hand.

He placed it on top of his erection, "See how swollen it is? It hurts," you pouted, feeling terrible that this was your fault. "Will you help me fix it then?" You nodded at once, and Jaemin smiled. "Good girl."

He took off his shirt, and you were momentarily stunned by how toned his chest and abs were. You'd seen him shirtless before but never from this close.

"Princess, you're drooling," he teased, softly grabbing your chin so you would look at him.

"I'm not," you whined but still attempted to clean the imaginary drool off your face.

"So cute," he laughed, "will you take this off for me?" He pointed to his sweatpants.

"M-me? Uhm... okay," you said, and with shaky hands, you slid his pants down his legs. It was a bit hard pushing them past his bulge, and he noticed how this made you blush.

"Thank you, pretty girl," he pulled you back up, and now you were straddling him, only the thin fabric of your panties and his boxers separating your cores.

He experimentally rutted against you to gauge your reaction, and it was entirely worth it. Your face contorting, the way you gasped and made an "O" with your pretty plump lips. He never saw anything better.

"You trust me, right, princess?" he asked, his eyes heavy on you.

"Y-yes... I trust you."

He smiled and switched your positions, now hovering over your body. He caressed your cheeks, and then his hand went down until he reached the border of your PJ dress. He pulled it up until it was pooling right below your chest.

"So pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your stomach.

"Jaem, that tickles!" you laughed, pushing his head.

"Princess, before you can help me, I gotta prepare you, okay?" He suddenly got serious again, his eyes with that dark glow you saw earlier. You nodded, your heart picking up pace when he suddenly hovered over your clothed core.

Then, locking eyes with you, he pulled your panties to the side. The abrupt shift from the cool air hitting you to his warm breath so close to your most private part gave you goosebumps all over.

Out of the blue, he licked a streak along your core. You gasped, nudging his head away. No one had ever touched you there, let alone licked you.

"You gotta relax, baby," he said, his voice so growly it almost had a purr to it.

Though he didn’t really give you a chance to relax. He latched his mouth directly to your cunt, sucking viciously, and the sensation was almost overwhelming.

"Oh my g-.. Jaemin," you moaned, the intensity taking you by surprise.

After a few minutes of relentlessly eating you out, he pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glossy with your juices. The knot in your stomach was so tight it could explode. But just when you thought he was finished, he inserted a finger. He explored your insides with vigor until he found that sweet spot, causing you to release a string of curses and curl your toes.

That was your first orgasm.

"You're ready for me now, beautiful," he said, planting one last kiss on your inner thigh before crawling until he was directly on top of you.

“… m’ so tired, Jaem..." you mewled.

"I know, I know... just hang on a bit more. You wanna help me, right?" he asked, gently moving some stray hairs away from your forehead.

You nodded, and he rewarded you with a chaste kiss on your lips. With a playful grin, he pulled down his boxers and even though you were spent, curiosity got the best of you so you peeked down. He was so big and thick; it startled you for a moment.

"Now, angel... tell me if you feel uncomfortable."

Jaemin was trying so hard to be gentle, but seeing you like that, all pliant and open for him, made him want nothing more than to fuck you hard into next week.

He pulled down your panties, amused by the way they stuck to you from how wet you were. Tossing them aside, he wasted no time positioning himself at your entrance. The tip was barely in, and you already felt overwhelmed. "I don't think it'll fit..." you said, but he seemed not to have heard, leaning in to kiss all over your neck and collarbone.

This distraction allowed him to go in more, and you held onto his shoulders for support.

"You're doing so good for me," Jaemin whispered against your skin.

When he bottomed out, he already felt like he would cum fast from how tightly you were squeezing him. He kept whispering for you to relax, and only when you did did he start moving at a somewhat slow pace.

"You feel so fucking good," he whimpered, his thrusts picking up pace and turning you into a moaning, writhing mess.

"J-j-Jaem..." you were unable to form a coherent sentence with how hard he was fucking you now.

"Fuck… I… should've… done… this… sooner," he grunted, his eyes locked on the mesmerizing bounce of your boobs.

"I'm… I feel so…" you whimpered, tears forming in your eyes as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

He could tell you were getting there from how your walls were pulsating around him. So, he grabbed your legs, hoisting them up on his shoulders for some deeper access. This new angle had him hitting just the right spot, and in no time, you turned into a moaning, sobbing mess. He eased into a slower rhythm, helping you ride out your second orgasm.

"That's it, good girl," he moaned looking at the scene between your bodies as your release dripped down from your pretty cunt.

After you came, he didn't pull out. He was the one wanting to get a little more out of this, after all.

So, once your breathing had calmed down a bit, he resumed thrusting into you, each one driving deeper than the last.

"Jae… I- I can't…" you whined, too sensitive down there.

"You said… you would help me, princess..."

And so he kept fucking you hard. It didn't take long for your third orgasm to creep up, your walls squeezing the life out of him again. Relentless, he kept going even after you'd cummed again, pushing until he felt his own orgasm approach. That’s when he pulled out right away, his release spilling generously over your lower stomach.

He collapsed next to you, both of you panting.

"Does it still hurt, Jaem?" you asked innocently, looking at him.

He smiled softly at you and gently caressed your cheek.

"No, princess. You made me all better."

Jaemin loved how clueless you were.

btw i’m not ignoring requests it’s just taking me forever to finish the other stories i’m writing so requests are on hold for a little bit, you can still send but it’ll take me a minute to get to them :(

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kadwrites · 9 months

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desperate measures | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you finally take on the role of the tommy's bride-to-be.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope, typos? , idk, slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you guys think! , also , i wanted to ask if you guys would want smut in this series? idk lmk

goosebumps prickle your skin all over, your eyes are glassy when you look down. thomas shelby is down on his knee, kissing your hand.

"tommy..." your voice is softer than you thought it would be

"ya need to be proposed to right? to be engaged?" he pulls away , his thumb slightly caressing your knuckles

neither of you have moved, you just look at each other.

you chuckle again, your eyes go to the diamond ring that rests on your finger "tommy, it's perfect."

"i wanted it to be perfect."

your heart feels like it's going to explode, maybe celest was right, maybe he isn't all that bad.

he stands up, your hand still in his "now we're engaged" he's still giving you that soft smile.

"we are." you can't help the smile that's on your lips

after he left, you hear the sounds of your friends stampeding down the stairs, as if they knew something has happened. anna helps renne down the stairs.

"let's see it" renee has a hand behind her, supporting her back and a hand on her belly, looking at you with genuine joy and excitement.

you move your hands, showing the big diamond ring, the ring shines and as soon as everyone sees it, they all gasp.

"he went down on one knee..." you whisper as you look at it, recalling what had happened, still smiling. you couldn't stop smiling, even if you tried

fiona is screaming and squealing , madeline is grabbing your hand and looking at the stone

"oh my god"

"he did what?" fiona says , her voice loud as she stares at you excitedly

anna giggles, looking at renee "who would've thought thomas shelby had it in 'im aye?"

abraham is also there , standing next to anna "that's a big fucking rock" he mutters.

"i know" you couldn't believe it either,

"oh my god, it's gorgeous" celest whispers as she stares at the ring, a hand over her mouth "let me see, let me see"

you push your hand in front of her and she takes it in hers eagerly "good lord, this must've cost 'im a fortune"

"god i'm still shaking" you laugh, your hand is unsteady "i almost dropped face first into the fucking floor." you can almost still feel his lips on your skin.

the butterflies in your stomach were still there whenever you'd remember that moment, even days after.

oliver had dropped you by tommy's office, you both needed to go over some things for the party, and you needed to go see a seamstress that'll be making your engagement dress, tommy is coming along to pay.

you walk through the halls that are now familiar to you, heading for his office.

"congratulations" the blonde woman spoke with a smile,

you stop walking, is she talking to you?. you turn and look at her "um thank you."

"i bet it took a lot of convincing aye? to finally give ya some sort of ring, some sort of.... acknowledgment" her voice is so sweet you almost wouldn't catch the malice in it "how sweet of 'im, he was willing to do something like that"

"excuse me?"

"i suppose he felt like he was lookin' for a woman who was not as ... demanding perhaps ?" her head tilts to the side "desperate times call for desperate measures"

you compose yourself, somehow you kept your anger out of your voice "ya don't know what you're talkin' about , miss carter. if i was you, i'd keep my mouth"

"oh please." she rolls her eyes, a mocking laugh is accompanied with it as she leans back in her chair "mr shelby is a good man, with a good heart, he probably did it out of pity." she coos "ya two hardly look like a couple."

"ya mind repeating those words to me, miss carter?"

tommy moved so quietly , you didn't even know he was standing beside you until he spoke.

"mr shelby..." she tries to smile, she stutters

he was watching, he always somehow is. he watched you walk, watched how you responded to her, how you held yourself.

"start talkin'." his voice was cold, it was ice cold.

her eyes widen, she licks her lips nervously "sir"

"she said that we don't look like a couple, that you're marrying me out of pity" the words that polly spoke to you, that first time you ever came here were ringing in your ear.

"is that so?" he didn't take his eyes off of her "is that so , miss carter?" he repeats.

she doesn't respond , she's just looking at him as if she wanted the earth to part and swallow her whole.

"and i'm sure that it doesn't look like i fucked 'er till her back gave out last night but looks can be deceiving, aye?"

with the way he spoke, even you almost believed him.

you held back a laugh, you tilt your head , mimicking how she spoke to you not even two minutes ago, with a small smirk on your lips. was it petty that you enjoyed this? probably, but you didn't really care.

his words did have an affect on you, but you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind.

her eyes dart between you and him, she tries to speak but he stops her

"i will go out with my fiancée, and when i come back i better not find one fucking trace of ya in this place."

your eyes snap to him, watching him now.

"i'm not the good man ya think i am, not to the likes of ya. the only reason i'm being forgiving today , is because my bride is next to me. next time , i wouldn't be so charitable."

he turns, his hand rests on the small of your back, taking you with him. you give the woman one last glance before you go.

she looked as if her blood stopped flowing, as if it froze in her veins ,her eyes still stuck on where tommy was.

taglist; @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr, @justaproudslytherpuff , @budugu , @twlegit , @amberpanda99 , @aesthetic0cherryblossom , @capswife , @lets-turn-and-burn , @affabletimelady

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction

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zepskies · 6 months

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OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

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doobea · 5 months

Text

✰⋆⁺★ FUZZY BRAIN ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: Choso spends the evening learning about the effects of alcohol, talking about his life goals, and gets his first kiss - all in that order.

contents: canon universe, manga spoilers + character death mentioned in passing, gn!reader, pov kinda switches back and forth w internal thoughts, sfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, slight suggestiveness, first kiss + making out, friends to lovers, choso gets drunk in this and is a bit shy and awkward + learning how to be a regular half human/half curse - y'know the whole deal word count: 1.3K a/n: if hes not underneath my christmas tree by Dec 25th then idk what to do

Choso quickly learns that alcohol brings out a side of him that he's not proud of. He's not careful with his words, not careful with his actions, and not careful with his emotions. That's why, he's glad that he's currently drunk out of his mind around you.

"I..." his voice starts wavering, head groveling against your kitchen counter as he fails to find grip around the glass of whiskey. "I don't think I deserve anyone..."

Oh no. Internally, Choso feels himself cringe but he knows he can't stop now. The oversharing has begun.

"I'm still trying to figure out how to properly live as a human," he feels himself choking on incoming tears as he thinks back to Yuki's last words. He pauses to control his breathing, only continuing when he feels the warmth from your hands rubbing the back of his shoulders. "I can't forgive myself for what I've done and I don't expect anyone else to do the same."

"Hey," you gently call out his name and brush away some of the matted strands sticking against his forehead. Choso is positive that he's sweating up a storm by how hot he feels thanks to the alcohol. "I don't think you really knew what you were fighting for. You were manipulated, used, and then tossed aside by your own father. It's shitty how everything happened but you're doing the right thing now."

Choso hears your words, appreciates them dearly to his heart, but he's too wasted to actually say anything coherent back. He hums absentmindedly and says what he thinks is a 'thanks'.

You take a cautious peek at the man and smile. His scar pop out so much more when the rest of his cheeks are red, you find it hypnotizing and a bit adorable. Mostly adorable. Whatever. You're both drunk.

"Let's pretend that you're not a century old half-curse for a second," you continue after a minute of silence from counting his lashes, losing count, and restarting about five times. "What would you like to be now?"

Choso blinks, finally raising his head up from the counter and gives you a teary look. "I don't feel like a curse when I'm around you," and then, he quickly adds on, "or Yuuji, or the others."

You laugh at his answer before sliding your body out of the barstool, stopping only when half of your body is on the floor and the upper half is leaning against his legs for support.

You hear Choso calling out your name anxiously. "...Are you okay? Should I get someone—"

"You're making me melt," you crane your head up and you're not sure if this is from the drinks, the dim lighting from the shitty lightbulbs in the ceiling, or if Choso has always just been so pretty. You feel like you could drown in his eyes with how much tender and vulnerability he's allowing out. You bump your head against his legs, giggling and letting the alcohol take over. "You're so genuinely sweet and self-sacrificing, I think you deserve the world."

Choso begins to chuckle in return, although not as enthusiastically. He feels the need to have some control or else he'll really set himself loose. "I appreciate you, too."

You raise two thumbs up. "Back to the game – what would you be doing?"

Choso thinks about it way too hard. Maybe it’s the alcohol already making his brain go foggy. He sips some whiskey again, but his motions sluggish and messy that he ends up spilling some of it all over his face, making you howl with laughter as he rushes to wash his face.

That makes him feel slightly better. Not too drunk. Not too warm.

You're still on the floor, laughing. Choso finds some confidence and nudges you with his foot and, instead of sitting back down on the barstool, he joins you on the floor.

"I would probably own a coffee shop," Choso muses. "The ones with cats roaming around. I've seen a few from the movies that Yuuji showed me."

"Ooh, somehow that fits you!" You're giggling even more now. Just the image of him, a big grungy man with a kitten themed apron tied around his waist, is almost enough to make you swoon. Almost. "Can I be the barista that doesn't actually do any of the work and spends all their time hanging out with the cats?"

Choso smiles amusingly. "Only if you're okay with me joining in."

He’s redder now, and Choso knows this is the alcohol. He would never be this bold with you, or with anyone really. You get up on your knees and, before Choso asks you where you're going, you hover over him, caging him between your limbs.

"I want us to have senior cats," you're leaning in and, wow, he feels his brain short circuiting right now. "And I want the cafe to be by the ocean."

"Isn't this supposed to be my dream?"

"Hey, it can be both of our dreams too!"

Yeah, you're both super drunk.

A grin spreads across your face as you lift up one hand and begin stroking Choso’s cheek with gentleness. Choso shivers a little. He’s not sure how to react, because he’s frozen, staring up at his beautiful—beautiful?—friend who's currently on top of him looking down to his eyes like he’s the most precious thing ever, and Choso feels like dying a little. He’s also a bit short of breath. He’s a bit short of everything right now.

You're giggling again. You're so close, the mix of your perfume and the alcohol tickles Choso's nostrils, and he's trying so hard to resist the urge to pull you down and kiss you.

Luckily, you've read his mind and finally lean in, capturing his lips. And it’s all so familiar and strange at the same time, as if doing anything with you is as easy as breathing to him. Choso immediately finds himself kissing back. He hesitantly brings his hands up and finds home around your waist, relishing in how soft your body feels and how your lips are now easily his favorite thing in the whole world. You break away from him and begin peppering kisses across his jawline, down to his neck, his shoulders—

Choso's dead right now, but he also feels alive, and he feels like floating, and god he is so drunk right now.

He chokes out your name, and it’s all he can say. No other words come out. He just hopes your name is a good sign to let him know how wrecked he is right now.

He mutters your name over and over again, getting you to laugh against his neck, and Choso is feeling a mix of ‘this is too much’ and feeling like he needs more. You get back up, giving him one more kiss – slow and gentle – and then pull away.

You lend him a hand, and smiling softly as you pull him on his feet, quick to hold him against you when he’s too drunk to move. "Hey, are you feeling better now?"

And Choso just nods because he can’t trust himself to speak.

"Perfect," you grin and throw one of his limp arms over your shoulders. "Let's get you to bed then."

"You're... You're staying here, right?" he asks before he can stop himself.

"Cho, you're in my apartment!"

Right, duh.

He doesn’t really focus on the journey to your bedroom, since he's too hyperaware on how close your bodies are and how he still really wants to kiss you, but he won’t.

Somehow, you manage to pull him into your bed. It's nice, smells just like you, and the throbbing and warmth in his body starts to calm down just a little.

"Y’know, Cho," you begin, yawning. "We can do this anytime you feel overwhelmed."

Choso frowns. "Talking?"

"Kissing."

Choso is dead.

Officially dead.

#doobea writing #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso

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