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[deansbeer]

kari yaps. giving yall an angsty dean blurb that i couldn't get out of my head <3 miss my baby smookums so much.

warning(s) smut | strong language | situationship | angst | s1 DEAN | abandonment | self loathing. ୨୧ eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

📖 JACKLES library.

it wasn't supposed to be like this with dean. casual was what you both strictly agreed on — no strings attached, no feelings involved. just two hunters finding respite in each other whenever paths crossed. that was the deal.

but here you are, straddling him in another stuffy motel room, his calloused hands gripping your hips as you ride him slowly. the dim lamplight casts shadows across his freckled face, highlighting every expression of pleasure that crosses his features. dean's breathing is ragged, green eyes half-lidded as he watches you move above him.

you lean down, pressing your palms against his rough ones, intertwining your fingers together. the new angle makes him groan, head throwing back against the pillow. his grip on your hands tightens, and you can feel the trembling in his muscles as he fights to maintain control.

"fuck," he breathes out, voice wrecked. "you feel so good, sweetheart. s'perfect..."

you increase your pace slightly, watching as he falls apart underneath you. DEAN WINCHESTER — the notorious hunter, the man who's faced down demons and monsters — coming undone by your touch alone. his walls are down completely, vulnerability written across his face in a way you've never seen before.

that's when it happens.

"i love you," he gasps out, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them.

you freeze mid-movement, staring down at him with wide eyes. the confession hangs heavy in the air between you, and you watch as realization dawns on his face. dean's hands suddenly release yours, gripping the cheap motel sheets instead, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

"what?" your voice is barely above a whisper.

he won't meet your eyes anymore, jaw clenched tight as he stares at some point over your shoulder. the silence stretches on, broken only by your shared breathing and the distant sound of traffic outside. you're still connected intimately, but the moment has shifted into something else entirely — something neither of you were prepared for.

without warning, his hands move to your waist. those strong arms that you've admired countless times before easily lift you off of him, setting you gently on the bed beside him. you watch as he sits up, running a hand through his disheveled spiky hair before reaching down to grab his discarded boxers from the floor.

"dean, hold up—" you start, but he's already heading for the bathroom, not looking back as he closes the door with a soft click.

you lie there in the silence, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. your mind replays his words over and over, trying to make sense of what just happened. dean winchester loves you.

DEAN WINCHESTER — who keeps everyone at arm's length, who builds walls higher than heaven itself — just confessed his love for you in the most vulnerable moment possible.

and you? you don't know what to feel. this wasn't part of the plan. feelings weren't supposed to enter the equation, but here they are, complicated and messy and real.

you can hear him moving around in the bathroom, probably trying to compose himself. knowing dean, he's probably gripping the sink, staring at his reflection, and beating himself up over his slip of the tongue. that's just who he is — taking every perceived failure and turning it into self-loathing.

the thought of facing this conversation, of dealing with the aftermath of those three beautiful words, suddenly feels overwhelming. you slip out of the bed, quickly gathering your scattered clothes and pulling them on. your hands are shaking slightly as you find a piece of paper and pen from the motel's complimentary notepad.

that's all you write before placing it on the rumpled bed. it's cowardly, you know it is, but you can't face him right now. not when everything is so confused and tangled in your mind.

you're just closing the motel room door when you hear the bathroom door open. you don't stay to see his reaction, but you can picture it perfectly — dean walking out, preparing himself to bare his soul to you, only to find an empty room and a note in your place.

you know it'll hurt him. know that he'll blame himself, add it to the long list of things he carries on his shoulders. but you can't give him what he wants right now, can't pretend those words didn't change everything.

as you walk to your car, you can almost hear him in that room — probably throwing something in frustration, cursing himself for ruining what you had. classic dean winchester, turning his pain inward, letting it eat at him.

but sometimes running is easier than staying, even when you know it'll leave scars on both of you that might never fully heal.

[pearlywritings]

Surprisingly

synopsis: for the public eye, the head of the Oak Family and his wife are a loving couple. In private they are astonishingly content with each other too.

pairing: Sunday x fem!reader

tw: fluff, arranged marriage, reader is halovian, established some time before the game quest on Penacony.

word count: 2.8k+ words

Nothing supports the man’s prestige and public image more than a proper marriage with a proper woman. So, I want you to meet this very woman, my child…

Two months, fifteen days and one hour. That’s exactly how long ago Sunday became a husband. A role he didn’t imagine himself playing, not with the role assigned to him from above. But, it was Gopher Wood - his adoptive parent basically, who brought you to him and announced his grand plan. And even if the head of the Oak Family had his doubts initially, a thorough conversation held with and without the Dreammaster, plus your immaculate background and some more specific matters proved to him that you were indeed chosen rightfully. He wasn’t sure if it was Mr Wood’s way of helping him, offering you as an aid at handling some of the work-related matters but with the seemingly perfect image of being wed - the elder gave no answers, however Sunday knew better than to question some of his schemes.

And so, your union was sealed. The ceremony wasn’t something exceptionally huge, none of you wanted that, but it was public enough for everyone and their mother to be talking about it. A couple of perfectly sterile interviews, some joint photos and three or four public appearances together, and people have been fooled enough to believe that.

That was enough.

Something as shocking as a wedding would avert the public eye and serve a great purpose in deceiving the people. After all, newlyweds are far too busy for one of them to be plotting something, right?

Right. So right, that Sunday himself was in a somewhat daze for the first week. But it’s understandable - on top of his regular responsibilities he had to prepare for the wedding and get to know the person he was about to spend life with better. Surprisingly, you turned out to be very understanding and supporting from day one, actively participating in whatever additional activity served on the man’s plate. It was weird, new and confusing, but above all he caught himself considering it not unwelcome.

You are astonishingly easy to work with. Well-versed in the matters of Family (but he shouldn't be all too surprised, given who brought you to him), soft, yet - when needed - firm spoken, not afraid to face the crowd in your husband's place for a public announcement and taking a portion of his responsibilities without any questions asked. If not for your interactions outside of all of that, Sunday would've thought you were his secretary and not a wife (but even a secretary wouldn't have known as much as you are aware of).

You are…comfortable. Sunday should really reproach himself for giving in so quickly, but it’s so hard not to. Maybe his vigilance is lulled with security of his patron’s choice or maybe it’s his own longing for normal civil interaction with someone close, but it didn’t take much time to start entertaining your sparks of curiosity.

Oh, how curious you are. Despite being trapped in a loveless marriage, you’ve been willing to learn about him from day one, trying to unfurl at least one tiny secret of his every day. He knows that because you are methodical, because you write it down (and you don’t hide the fact - when he, alarmed, asked or rather demanded you to show him that little notepad of yours, you just did so, with an explanation of your reasoning.)

Speaking of getting to know each other better… It’s still half an hour before your recently established tea time, but… But maybe he could summon you earlier? 

I hope, my child, this woman will become your reprieve. You are not obligated to love her, see her as just a companion, but feel free to treat her as a continuation of yourself. I educated her to match you specifically, after all.

As a continuation of himself… Isn’t it cruel to speak such things of a sentient being? Isn’t it putting one into the position of submission? 

Somehow it feels bitter on the tongue when he thinks of you.

His hand reaches for the bell, but promptly stops before the fingertips can touch the polished metal. Ah, of course, he asked to not be disturbed today. So, let him not violate his own order. He can find you on his own, not to mention, a small walk around the building might help clearing up his mind. Lately, he’s been thinking too much.

Spacious halls of the Dewlight Pavilion are empty, he knows as much, yet he hopes he won’t have to roam for too long, as the gloved hands push the doors of the meeting room. Today you two decided to work from the main Family residence in need of some materials here, and since no congregations were scheduled for the day, the building was all yours.

Each step of his is muffled by the carpet, lining the exactly 39 stairs, every next one lifting some of the weight from his shoulders and smoothing the deep frown of light gray brows. When his heels click on the small podium with the additional three steps, Sunday feels like his head is cleared. 

Stepping on the carpet again, he finally ends up in the big hall with the 5 Lineages symbols and a big City Sandpit in the middle. Quickly fishing his phone out of the pocket, he swiftly unlocks the screen and finds your name in the recent calls, dialing it.

When did it happen that conversations with you outnumbered ones with his sister?

You pick up the phone after just two seconds.

“Hello? What is it, Sunday?”

Ah, straight to the point, he admires that. And the calmness of your tone is surprisingly grounding.

“I was wondering if you’d join me earlier,” he speaks softly, barely holding off from calling you ‘dear’. It’s not wrong for the spouses, but how would you react? He asks strange questions lately. “Tell me where you are, I’ll come fetch you.”

“To answer your first question, I’d love to,” the young man might lie to himself, but he swears he heard your voice sweeten just a little. It makes the little wings behind his ears flutter, which he is quick to still. “As for your second one, however, you might want to look down.”

Sunday follows your instruction without much thought, looking right at the red carpet covering the marble floor.

“...I don’t believe I understand.”

He hears you chuckle, a tinkling sound, lacking any malice. His left wing slightly jerks as the favorable noise fills his left ear through the phone.

“The City Sandpit, beautiful. I am not far from the origami birds’ nest.”

As he moves to round the table, your husband’s heart skips a beat. You called him beautiful, you have done so on multiple occasions already. You praised his intellect, you gently clapped for the perfect choice of the clothes for the day he made, you agreed with him on the most mundane things incorporated into your daily lives. And not once it felt forced or fake. You were surprisingly sincere with him - he would’ve thought that with the Dreammaster’s upbringing you’d have been all mastered flashy smiles and sickly sweet polished words.

But here you’ve been, admiring him in your own quite blunt kind of way.

He immediately spots your tiny figure among the fake buildings on the city’s layout. You are waving at him with a smile.

“Found me,” he hears again in the speaker, but now also from you as well.

“Found you,” Sunday echoes, reaching his free hand to you. When he curls his fingers, you understand and, clutching the strap of the bag hanging from your shoulder, carefully climb onto his open palm.

Your husband is careful, finishing the call and putting the phone aside, before cupping the other hand under the one holding your sitting figure. Bringing you closer to his eyes he can see all the little details on the pretty pale blue dress you left home in this morning, with your second pair of clipped wings wrapped around the waist like another skirt. Then his gaze skims along your neck, adorned in one of the pendants he gifted you and then up to the first pair of wings, bigger than his when you are your normal size. 

He doesn’t have an opportunity to marvel over your intricate halo, because your eyes capture his in a vice, looking at him inquiringly.

“Didn’t expect you to take a break earlier. I thought you liked to stick to your routine.”

This was probably the first thing you learned about your back then betrothed.

“I do,” a tiny smile adorns his pale lips, “however, today I managed to wrap the most attention-requiring matters up earlier. Now only the mundane cases are left.”

“Good to hear that,” you hum, swinging your stocking-clad legs a little. His golden eyes look over your form once more, capturing the image of surprising comfortability in the hands of a bigger being, one that could crash your body so easily at the moment.

“I do wonder however about the reason behind your current predicament,” the male tilts his head in an inquiring way. “I believe I’ve never seen you enter the City Sandpit.”

Well, not to count the very first time he was giving you a tour.

“Oh, as I said, I know your routine, so I usually leave it before our meetings. I actually enter it quite often when we stay here,” is your answer that makes Sunday’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Pardon?”

“It’s easier to do paperwork this way,” motioning to the bag still on your shoulder, you then huff in annoyance. “If only you knew how eager your subordinates to bother me whenever you are unavailable. I am well-informed of my seeming position as the “lady-of-the-house”, but I’ve never signed up to be a link element between you and them, let alone a pawn in someone’s game of becoming first to seek your favor. Pardon me for my straightforwardness, but I much prefer interactions without actual feedback from the interlocutor if the situation doesn’t require otherwise. Except for you, of course.”

Except for him.

“You are my equal. You can always order them not to bother you,” drawing his hands closer to the chest, Sunday turns and starts walking closer to the table’s side where the gates are located.

“As if,” he glances down and catches just the end of your eye roll. “Mister Wood would have had my head if I ruined your picture as little as being distant from your inner circle. I’d much rather prefer just to hide away when needed and return to my secondary duties once I’m done with the primary.”

With the Dreammaker’s upbringing you would think a person can’t be as open-minded. Sunday is sure that it was no different from his - after all you have the clipped wings to match his. But, it seems, you found a way to temporarily escape from the suffocating clutches. Today he learnt a new thing about you, and, surprisingly it warms his soul instead of feeling repulsed.

He carefully puts you down just in front of the gates from the city’s side. Almost knocking off  a little ”DO NOT TOUCH” card near it, your husband moves to the right to let you step out. And in a couple of seconds of blinding light you stand before him in all your tall glory.

“Thank you for making the trip across the city so much shorter,” you grin, shaking the bag’s strap down your shoulder and rolling it, before unwrapping the wings from around your waist and spreading them in a stretch.

“It was my pleasure,” his tone is even, yet the gaze with which he watches you move gives him out. To this day and probably for a long while the levels of intimacy that used to be unknown to him yet which you display are going to surprise him. Sunday almost feels an annoying twinge of upsetness when you rewrap your wings around the dress’s skirt. Though it lets him see a couple of ruffled feathers and he has to suppress the urge of his hand to reach and fix them for you.

Yes, there is some intimacy between you lately, but not close enough.

“If you give me a moment to drop off my papers, I’ll be swift in joining you,” your voice breaks the man out of his self-restraining thoughts, and he lifts his eyes from your waist back to your face.

“Ah, it won’t be necessary. I’d like to have our tea time back at the meeting room, I have some things to discuss with you.”

“So official,” you smile, taking a step to join his side. “Alright then, let us be on our way up. Would you like to fill me in on the agenda of our ‘meeting’?”

“Sure,” Sunday chooses to ignore your teasing, but habitually offers you his elbow to hook your arm in it. “My sister is going to visit soon and she seems to be quite pissed at me.”

“Miss Robin?” Your question is laced with puzzlement. “I assumed from your stories of her that she is hardly in a sour mood.”

“It is true, yes,” your husband sighs, leading you up the first set of stairs. “But I would’ve been mad too if my sibling had gotten married and I did not know a thing.”

“She does not know about us?”

The man nearly halts in his ascending. If he didn’t know better and where your thoughts and loyalties stood in this marriage, he would’ve believed you are offended that he kept such an important fact a secret from his only family member. Nevertheless, he continues his walking.

“I sent her an invitation, you know that. But it seems the planet she’s been on is pretty far away and she’s gotten my message only recently, on her way back. I loathe to admit it, but now I feel very bad and the situation itself is iunjust. I am aware we were in a rush, all because of the- you know why,” he sees you nod from the corner of his eye and feels your fingers carefully dig into his arm, “but Robin has always wanted to be a maid of honor at my wedding. And I ripped this opportunity from her.”

And I am not going to get married the second time. This he did not voice out loud.

For a moment you both fall silent. You get lost in thought, Sunday does so too, analyzing his own words, wondering if this speech of his was too personal, if it was painting him as weak in your eyes.

And his own.

You speak only when he reaches for the knob and twists in to swing the door open and lead you two inside.

“So, how much time do we have before she gets here?”

“Maybe a couple of days,” he breaks the lock of your arms and gets a hold on the strap, sliding the bag down your shoulder and turning to put it aside for the time being. “Why asking?”

“You are a good brother, I can see that, “ ah, here you are, praising him again. “And it’s obvious you care for your sister and wish to give her the world. I suggest organizing a small party for her. This way she could experience what she missed and get familiar enough with me. I can negotiate with Mister Wood, I am sure I can convince him - he has some sort of a soft spot for you, Sunday.”

Surprisingly, it twists something uncomfortable in the halovian’s stomach.

“It sounds… delightful. However, are you certain you’d like to go to such lengths for Robin?”

“Well, she is your sister,” you chose the table farthest from the one your husband has been working at and grab the back of the chair to move it so you could sit, “and I am your wife. I’d love her to believe in us too. If I am not overstepping, of course.”

That’s actually not a bad idea. If almost four months ago someone - even you - suggested he let his sister and future wife meet, he’d be hesitant. He knows his little sister, he knows how perceptive she is - he is not so sure he wouldn’t have cracked under her inquisitive questions about whether he was happy with the arrangement or not. Plus leaving her sad and aching for brother if he let her know of the unjustness of the situation and still chose to proceed with the wedding is just too much for him.

Now he, at least, will not be lying that he is content if being asked.

“I accept your offer and thank you profusely for it,” Sunday slightly bows his head, to which you shake yours, reaching your hand out to beckon him to join you.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll have time to thank me later, once we’ve already done something, alright?”

Surprisingly… It is indeed alright.

[captain039]

PART 5 Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +, smut? Haven’t decided yet

Previous part <-

Viktor appeared at your door the next night. A packed suit case behind him, you flush a bit knowing what you asked him to do, it isn’t conventional for an unmated alpha to stay with an unmated omega during her coming off period and a potential heat. You’re stewing over at how bad it all looks, but when you go to open your mouth and say anything he shoots you a look with those honey golden eyes and you shut up. You can’t deny that you’re calmer now, your mind isn’t racing or panicking and you can sleep easier knowing he’s there, on the pull out bed. You feel bad for making him stay there, with his bad leg you’re unsure if it’s even comfortable, your mother said to but it incase you have friends wanting to stay over, that rarely happens. Viktor tends to things on his laptop on the small kitchen table, he always has his brows furrowed when he’s deep in thought, scribbling away on his notepads or typing quickly. It’s a soothing sound, pencil against paper, key taps filling your room. You don’t speak much, but you don’t mind it, you figured he was always the quieter type when working or in general, though sometimes you get into conversations about his work or your art casually when he isn’t busy. It’s a quiet evening, you’ve gotten used to his presence and find yourself wanting him to never leave. He sits at the kitchen table, his things spread out there, you’re surprised at how messy he can be even if he tries to organise things, it’s quite sweet you think. You on your arm chair by the pull out bed a book in your hand. You notice he stops typing and your eyes flick to his, his nose flares a bit and his eyes snap to yours.

“Your heats coming” he says and you frown sniffing yourself, you can’t sense anything or feel anything.

“How do you know?” You ask and he chuckles softly.

“I know” he says and the words make you frown.

“You’ve- done this before?” You ask out of curiosity and mild jealousy.

“With an old partner” he says and you flush a bit. Of course he’s been with other people, other omegas, Jesus Christ get a grip on yourself.

“Oh” you answer and instantly curse yourself silently, you watch his eyebrow raise ever so slightly.

“I’ll uh, have a shower” you stand up quickly and shuffle to the bathroom. You close the door and turn the fan on running a hand down your face at your antics. You can’t get jealous over past people, everybody has past partners, he’s not even your alpha! hell he’s probably gone through countless of ruts! Your face flushes at the thought and you quickly busy yourself with turning the shower on and stripping. You stand under the water and sigh a bit leaning your head against the tile. It’s the heat talking that’s it, your hormones are gonna go haywire and it’s gonna get a hella of a lot worse. Why did you ask him? Why did you run to him in a midst of panic? Why did he say yes? Out of pity? Does he even realise you have no idea what you’re doing? That even with the heat you’ve got no clue on sexual relations besides getting yourself off with your fingers?! You take a deep breath trying to calm yourself. Gods he probably doesn’t even want you like that, you insulted his work practically, you’re hardly classed as a pretty petite omega their alpha can throw around if needed. You poke your stomach, watching it go in then out and glare at it. Self love is a hard thing when the world makes you feel unwanted. Maybe you should tell him to go, you wouldn’t want to be stuck here with you going through your first mature heat either. You leave the shower, dry off and head to your room awkwardly before getting dressed and falling on your bed. Your body grows tired easily before you find yourself asleep.

You wake up with a small groan wondering why it’s so damn hot and this bed is suddenly uncomfortable. You sit up, kick off your sleep pants and stare at the boring bed with a look of disgust before you get up and strip it. You flick your light on unaware of the alpha in your couch and start making a nest out of instinct. You raid your linen cupboard in your bedroom and begin making a nest on your bed glad your beds to one side and against the wall. You don’t feel the eyes watching you from the door way, too focused on making this nest.

He wasn’t asleep, he heard your groan, saw the light flick on then a lot of shuffling. Your scent is stronger now and it’s keeping every ounce of self control he has to not do anything. He’s filled with alpha pride that you chose him to stay with you. Seeing you panicked reeking of scared omega in his lab in the middle of the night confirmed all his thoughts of him wanting you, the trust you put in him, subconsciously seeking your alpha out even if he wasn’t just yet. He leans against the door way keeping the pressure off his bad leg as he watches you make a nest with a hazed look in your eyes. You get unhappy when something doesn’t sit right, either throwing it off the bed or slapping it into place. To anyone else it would be funny to watch, to him it brings out a deep primal feeling of satisfaction watching his omega prepare. When you finally stop your hands on your hips as you stare of it unhappily your fingers tapping against your hip. He realises now you’re in a tank top and underwear, your sleep pants kicked across the room probably because you got hot. He knows he shouldn’t disturb you during such a time but the frown on your face is getting harsher by the second.

“Omega?” He coaxes gently and you jolt looking to him with wide eyes. You stutter gesturing to your nest, run a hand through your hair gesture around some more before giving up. It makes him smile as he limps closer having left his cane by the couch.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

“It’s not- right” you huff gesturing to your now made nest.

“What isn’t right about it?” He presses knowing how particular omegas can be when making their nests.

“It’s not-“ your hands make a fist and he knows you’re struggling with heat clouding your thoughts it’s likely even worse. Your skin has a light flush to it and he can see a slow layer of sweat forming. Your scent though, it’s spiked and sweet and mouth watering, he itches to have you in that nest right now but knows that won’t end well so he opts for gently contact.

You feel a slender hand covering your fisted one, and slender fingers guiding you to look at him.

“The shape?” He asks and you look back to it shaking your head.

“Softness?” You shake your head again having laid down your softest blankets on there.

“Scent?” He asks and you glance to it, then him, then back to the nest. It smells like you obviously, but also your laundry detergent, but it doesn’t have his scent.

“Wait here” he says gently before limping out of your room. You feel bad making him put up with your antics before he returns with a dark blue blanket. You tilt your head slightly mouth opening a bit.

“This is from my bed, I use it every night, it should smell like me” he holds it out to you and your mind stops. You take it carefully heart pounding in your chest, you press your nose to it without thinking breathing him in deeply a shuddering calm washing over you. You flush and stop once you realise what you’re doing, he doesn’t look grossed out, disgusted, judgmental, there’s a gentle look in his eyes and a small twitch of his lips before he nods to your nest. You thank him quietly before moving to your nest and laying it over the top, something settles in you and you sigh in relief feeling the agitation leave.

“You’re good at this” you say embarrassed.

“I’ve had experience with omegas yes, but every omega is different” he says smiling gently.

“Well you knew what I needed in an instant” you scoff out a laugh.

“Because I watch” he says softly limping closer his hands lifting to brush fly aways back down.

“I watched how you’ve been acting these last few days” he adds and you feel your cheeks warm.

“I see the over thinking and anxiety, but the calmness in the quiet, how you prefer a soft to touch blanket over your quilt for warmth, how you wake up, get breakfast and sit in your chair for a five minutes then start eating, you miss lunch, but snack during the day, I watch how you forget where you put things then mentally scold yourself when you find them” his fingers gently trace your cheek and jaw as he speaks.

“I notice how your scent sweetens when we talk” he whispers and you feel your cheeks warm even more and look away.

“I watched and learned omega, you trusted me to be here with you during a vulnerable time, I’m going to do my dam-nest to make sure I do it right” he says letting his hand fall back to his side. You notice how he favours one side due to his bad leg, the swirl of emotion in his golden honey eyes, his thick brows and high cheeks.

“Can I-?” You trail off a bit.

“You can” he says and you huff.

“I didn’t even say what I wanted” you sass lightly.

“You still can” he says with a small smirk matching your sass.

“I wanted to hug you” you say quietly.

“I know I’m a little sweaty and I’m going into heat-“ he cuts you off his arms wrapping around your shoulders and bringing your head to rest on his chest. You sigh and melt into him instantly careful not to lean into him too much but just enough. He smells delicious up close and with your heat it’s heightened, that undertone of alpha, coffee and amber. You find yourself wanting to nuzzle into his neck breathe him in there where his scent is the strongest. Despite his lean frame you find out he’s quite strong and sturdy, probably from physical therapy or something you wonder. You feel him lean his weight onto you a bit and away from his leg, you tighten your hold on him offering support and he chuckles gently against your hair.

“Sweet omega” he whispers and you feel yourself warm up and his body tense slightly as if he didn’t mean to let that slip. You figure you should let go so you do, reluctantly and he pulls back as well. You notice a faint blush on his cheeks and feel your heart rate pick up.

“I’ll um, let you get back to sleep and off your leg” you smile and he nods in response.

“Goodnight” he says.

“Goodnight” you mumble as he limps out your room. You listen to the pull out bed creak under his weight before you flick your light off and crawl into your nest. His blanket is over top you, wrapped around, your nose pressed to the soft fabric as you smile and feel yourself drift off to sleep again.

Next part ->

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@imithicwolf

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@justmoniesworld

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[alotofpockets]

In sickness and stubbornness | Leah Williamson

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Wife!Reader & Lia Wälti x Platonic!Reader

Summary: Leah stubbornly went to practice while being sick. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1.2k

-----

Leah’s alarm woke you up early in the morning. She had to go to practice, so with a kiss to your forehead, she made her way to the bathroom. When she got back to the bedroom, she sat down next to you on the bed. Usually you would get up with Leah, so that the two of you could have breakfast together, but today Leah told you. “Go back to bed, baby. It’s your day off, you deserve some extra rest.” She had kissed your forehead again, before she left for London Colney. 

It wasn’t until about two hours later, when you had just finished your breakfast, that you realised the underlying reason Leah wanted you to stay in bed, through Lia’s phone call. 

On the training grounds at London Colney Lia was watching her best friend closely. Her energy level seems low, and the paleness of her face wasn't helping her case. “Hey Lee, are you doing alright?” Leah responds with a quick yes before running the next drill. Lia rolls her eyes, and runs after her. When the two stop at the end of the drill she quickly puts her hand on Leah’s forehead. “You're burning up, Leah. You're sick, you should go home and get some rest.” Leah shakes her hand off, “I'm fine, Wally.” And she has off to the next drill.

Lia could see that she was getting worse so she walked up to someone on the staff. “Hey, Leah doesn't feel so good, can I go call someone to pick her up real quick?” He looks over to Leah before saying, “Yeah, go ahead.” He scribbles something down on his notepad as Lia turns on her heels and heads to the locker room to grab her phone.

You picked up your ringing phone. “Hi Wally, everything okay?” It wasn't unusual for your wife's best friend to call you, since you had become close friends over the years. However, since you knew that she was currently training with Leah, you were worried that something had happened.

“Hey y/n/n, yeah nothing bad. Just that your wife stubbornly went to practice while being sick.” With a big sigh you say, “Of course she did. Is she doing alright?” Lia laughs at your comment. “I think she has a fever, and she looks really pale. Is there any way you can come pick her up?” You were already putting on some shoes, “Yeah, I'll be right there. Thanks for letting me know, Wally.”

Back on the pitch Lia walked over to Leah and made her sit down on the grass. “Y/n is on her way.” Leah's eyes widened. “You didn't.” Her words accompanied by a warning glare. “Oi, if Wally called your wife, you messed up mate.” Katie yelled over, making Leah roll her eyes. “Just doing what is best for you Lee.” Leah was annoyed that her best friend snitched on her, and ran to do the next drill, pushing herself further.

You arrived at the training grounds, and took the familiar path down to the fields, where you saw your girlfriend sitting on the pitch. Her sickness finally caught up to her to the point she was too weak to keep running. Lia was right, she looked very pale. “Hi love, let’s get you home, shall we?” The Leah that had been resisting Lia’s help, quickly changed into the Leah that let you help her up, and the Leah that clung to your side.

While holding Leah up, you have a quick conversation with Lia. “Need a hand to get her to the car?” You shake your head, “We should be fine, thank you though. Plus this stubborn lady has kept you from training long enough.” Lia laughs with you, “Okay, text me if you need me to bring anything by the house after practice.” You thank her before walking Leah off the pitch.

Once you got Leah home safely, you ran her a bath. You handed her some medicine, before you guided her to the bathroom. “Go on, love. I'll be right back.” She reached for your hand instantly. “Don't leave me.” You hide your smile at her pout. “I'm just going to grab some clothes for you, my love.” She let your hand go.

You sent Lia a quick text, asking if she could pick up some more painkillers since you were almost out, as well as some ingredients for soup. After pocketing your phone, you grab a sweater and some sweatpants for Leah, and head back to the bathroom. Leah was laying in the tub, fighting to keep her eyes open. You sat down on the edge of the bath, so you could wash her hair for her. When she was done you helped her into her clean clothes.

“Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling good?” You ask once you've got her settled on the couch. “I thought it would fade once I got some fresh air. Plus it's your day off, and I didn't want you to have to take care of me.” You move your hands through her hair. “Oh darling, I would never mind taking care of my favourite girl. I would rather take care of you on my day off than having you out on the pitch with a fever.” Leah nods, and you could see her struggling to keep her eyes open once again. “Get some rest, my love. I'll be here the whole time, I promise.” 

Leah fell asleep moments after you draped a blanket over her. You looked at her with a soft smile, she looked so peaceful with the blanket clutched to her chest. You did some house work that you had planned to do today, while continuously checking in on Leah in the living room. 

You heard the front door open, right after you had put a load of laundry into the washing machine. Lia had a key, so you knew it was her arriving with supplies. “Thank you, I didn't want to leave her here alone.” You take one of the bags from her, as you both walk into the kitchen.

Lia insisted on staying to help you make the soup. Once you got all the chopping done and the soup was left on a simmer, the two of you stayed in the kitchen to talk. So, the two of you were in the kitchen when Leah woke up. “You said you wouldn't leave.” The girl said with a pout, extending grabby hands towards you. “Yeah, I meant I wouldn't leave the house love.” You wrap your arms around her, her head nuzzling into your chest. 

“How are you feeling?” Lia asked, only getting a huff in response. “Oh grow up, Lee.” You felt Leah tighten her hold on you. “Lee, darling, don't be annoyed with Wally for calling me. She was only trying to help.” Leah wanted to be stubborn again but the softness in your voice made it so she wasn't able to. “Slightly better.”

The three of you had some soup together before Lia left again. “What do you feel like, my love?” You asked your wife who looked tired again. “Cuddles in bed?” You place a loving kiss on her forehead, before helping her up and leading her to your bedroom.

-----

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[jezabelle9299]

Moving day S.R x fem! reader

Overture- Reader is moving into a neighborhood where a serial killer is hunting down women living alone, so when the FBI shows up on her doorstep she gets assigned protective custody from one Dr. Spencer Reid

*Includes references to season 1 episode 18 "Someone's watching" but this is season 3 or later

You were finally getting space away from your family, you’d finally saved up enough. You were able to actually buy a small house, as a mortgage payment ended up being cheaper than rent. You may be living it up in a two bedroom now, but you were no heiress. Movers were out of the question, you rented a small moving truck and set out to do a 24 hour moving day. You’d painted, picked up all of your second hand furniture, all of your packed boxes, and changed the locks. You’d just finished moving the first set of boxes inside when a black suv pulled in behind you in the driveway. An older gentleman came out and made a beeline towards you, with a man that looked like he could be his son trailing behind him. 

“My name is Agent Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” You’d lived here a minute and a half and federal agents were knocking on your door. Your mother would have a stroke if you told her, so you focused on the younger guy who was about your age instead of letting your mind spiral with the possibilities of why they’re here. 

“Sure, what can I do for you?” Your attention was pulled from the Dr. Reid, who’d yet to speak, when his colleague spoke up again. 

“Can we come in?” The last thing you wanted was strangers in your house, but they had badges so you felt like you couldn’t realistically say no. Plus they could at least help you unload a couple of boxes while they talked. 

“Sure, but everyone needs to grab a box first, I’m on a bit of a tight timeline.” 

“Understood.” They each grabbed a box, and you did a small internal celebration that they grabbed the boxes of books you’d been dreading carrying inside. You grabbed one of the smaller ones, full of clothes instead. Once you arrived you sat down on the arm of your couch, gesturing for them to sit on the two chairs you’d picked up earlier that day. 

“Thank you for getting those, I appreciate it. What can I do for you?”

The younger man spoke up for the first time since he’d been there. “We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us about the neighborhood.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you. Unfortunately the moving boxes aren’t really for decoration. I’ve lived here for less than a day.” 

“We actually think you could be in a unique position to help, because you haven’t lived here long.You would be more acutely aware of the behavior of your neighbors because you aren’t used to it.” 

“Alright, then by all means, ask away.” The younger man asked almost all of the questions, with the older Agent Rossi taking diligent notes in his notepad. He started with questions of your interactions with your neighbors, but then shifted to the crime that brought him there. Someone had been targeting young women who lived alone in the few blocks surrounding your house. 

“Would you be comfortable coming to the station to be put in protective custody?” You’d say yes in a heartbeat if it was any other day. Especially if it meant being in Dr.Reid’s orbit. You weren’t big into dating, yet there was something–compelling about him. But this was quite possibly the busiest day you’d had in the last year. 

“No, I’m sorry but I can’t. I’ve still got boxes to unpack, furniture to put together, I can’t just pick up and leave.” 

“Understood. Give us just one second.” Agent Rossi chimed in, pulling Dr. Reid aside while you checked your phone. Well, mostly staring at the homepage while eavesdropping on their hushed conversation. They were terrible at whispering.

“Why don’t you stay here with her? You can help us over the phone if we need it, and she fits the victimology.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s a little bit distracting. Maybe you should stay with her.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay with her, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear she wouldn’t even notice I was here if I didn’t talk first.”  

The young man eventually relented, although he still seemed a bit pouty about the whole thing. Then Agent Rossi turned his attention back to you, and you pretended not to have been eavesdropping on the whole thing. You couldn’t tell if he was buying it.

“How would you feel about Dr. Reid offering you protective custody here? You could go about your business, Dr. Reid would just keep an eye out for you.” 

“Yeah that’d be fine, if he’s ok with it? It certainly won’t be interesting, you know, unless someone does decide to kill me.” He paled for a second before realizing it was a joke. You nudged him with your elbow, and then he finally let out a shaky exhale. Not really a laugh, but you’ll take it. Agent Rossi just gave you a smile and pat Dr. Reid on the shoulder. 

“You kids have fun.” Then when the door was mostly closed behind him, he opened it back up to say “Not too much fun.” before laughing to himself all the way to the car. You pulled the tape off of one of the boxes before unloading some of your books onto the shelves you put up that morning. 

“So Dr. Reid, what favor did you owe him to get stuck with me? Did you lose a bet or something?” 

“You–uh, you can just call me Spencer, and why would you think I wouldn’t want to be here?” 

“Why would you? I mean, it must be exciting being in the FBI and all, if it were me I wouldn’t want to babysit a fully grown adult.”

“It’s not babysitting, and I’m happy to be here.”

“Well that’s very sweet. But you're about to regret every life choice that’s led you to this point.” His face stiffened with confusion at that before you laughed teasingly. 

“We have to move my mattress out of that truck. Since you’re here, I’d love to get out of dragging it on a tarp outside.” He actually laughed at that, and you were grateful you could get an actual laugh from him with that stupid of a joke. Maybe you had a chance with him after all. 

You’d just managed to get the mattress on the boxspring in your room, barely. You crashed down onto it in celebration and exhaustion. 

“This is the fruit of our labor, and for that I thank you. I think this calls for a drink.” You jumped back up and bounced to the kitchen, with Spencer trailing slowly behind you, still trying to catch his breath. You continued talking to him down through the hallway. “I’m not big into actual drinking so I don’t have any alcohol, but I have water, orange juice, and coffee I think.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d stop going for a second. Before unloading your mattress you unpacked 3 boxes, and unloaded 6, while he could only struggle to keep up. You even found the energy to make conversation while you did it, and he was panting by the end, attempting to talk and lift. He’d never struggled to talk before. Every once in a while he needed to take a break from helping you to help the team, with them calling for whatever random information he could give, yet he was still lagging behind you with every trip back outside. 

“Coffee sounds amazing.” He figured the coffee maker was already set up, with the energy you had, you'd have to have more than he did. And he had 4 cups this morning. 

“Coming right up!” His relief at your pause in momentum was short lived. You made your way back to the living room and started shifting through boxes again. 

“What are you looking for? I thought you wanted to take a break.” 

“The coffee maker, it’s in one of these boxes, I just can’t remember which one. I mostly use it when I have guests.” You peaked his interest with that, there was no way that you just had all this motivation. It was humanly impossible. 

“Do you usually order yours? Or do you have a preference for energy drinks?”  Then you found the box holding the coffee machine and cut it open, laughing just a little bit to yourself at his interrogation-like line of questioning over something so simple. 

“Neither, I’m just not super into it. All of this annoying is 100% natural.” You plastered a cheesy smile on your face as you turned to him, coffee pot in hand. He just furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“I don’t think you’re annoying, but your relentless energy is interesting.” 

“Well thank you, Spencer. I don’t think I have creamer, but I definitely have sugar, so I hope that’s ok?” 

“Sugar is perfect, thank you again.” 

“Of course, thanks for helping me with that mattress, and you know, the whole bodyguard thing you’ve got going on.” You got down one of the mugs you’d recently put away, before passing it, filled with coffee, along with the sugar to Spencer.

“I’ve got to return that truck as soon as we get everything out of it, but I can pick up some food on the way back? And I’ve got movies in one of these boxes. You’re welcome to pick something, I like everything in there.” He chugged the coffee in his hand before moving with you toward the door. 

“Sorry, but protective custody only works when I’m close to you. So as long as you’re still ok with it, I’ll go with you. Also there’s no way I’m letting you pay for dinner after intruding on your space all day.” 

“Alright, then we’d better get started, the sun’s setting soon, and I hate the idea of driving that thing at night.” He gave a short nod and followed you out. You got the rest of the boxes, returned the truck, and picked up your car from the lot. When you went to pick up dinner Spencer, true to his word, insisted on paying. You sat on the floor and ate off the box your coffee table came in, deciding to put it together another day. When you cleaned up and finished unpacking your boxes of books and dvds you told Spencer he could pick a movie. He chose the one sci-fi flick from your collection, and you were not at all surprised. 

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

You weren’t quite sure when it happened. When you had moved to the couch, when you had offered to share a blanket with Spencer, or when you ended up falling asleep propped against his arm, the energy you had all day finally exhausted. The movie was long since forgotten when his phone rang and he answered in a whisper, not realizing the ringtone had already woken you up. 

“Hey Morgan, what’s up?”

“Hey kid, we found him, so you’re free to go. Unless of course, you’d like to stay.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice even through the phone.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Oh forget it, Rossi already told everyone. Look, we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning. Just be at the station at 5 to pack up before we go, now go and make me proud.” You assumed he hung up with the way Spencer let out a long sigh before putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Everything ok?” You mumbled out, alerting Spencer to the fact you were awake and continuing to stay propped against him for your own benefit, before leaning up to stretch and be able to look him in the eye. 

“Everythings fine, we found the person we were looking for, so we’re headed back to Virginia in the morning.” There was an air of sadness to his response, so you thought back on what the other agent said. 

“I know you probably have to get back, but it’s late and you’re welcome to stay here if you like.”

“I really couldn’t, it’s not only an imposition, but really inappropriate. There’s this concept called transference, essentially it’s where you project affectionate feelings onto people who are helping you, or hold some position of authority. I can’t possibly take advantage like that.” He shuffled to get up from your couch, straightening his clothes and grabbing his things to put them in his leather bag. 

“If you don’t want to, that's totally fine, but I wasn’t in danger. It was realistically babysitting more than anything, no one came after me, and nothing bad happened. Also, no offense, but I don’t really think of you or your friend from earlier as ‘Authority’. You’re like my age, and it’s not like you’re cops or anything. You’re federal agents, which is cool and all, but I’m not a murderer, so it’s not like I’m intimidated by you. I like you, but I’m not intimidated by your authority.” He couldn’t quite form a response, and his thoughts were swimming with the fact that he’d been assigned protective custody by himself twice and he ended up in this situation twice. I mean what are the odds. You were nothing like Lila though, with her he felt nervous all the time, but it was so easy spending the day with you. 

“You like me?” He was genuinely shocked, and you feigned exasperation, with an over dramatic eye roll, and a cheesy smile. 

“Yes I like you. It wasn’t exactly an accident that I fell asleep on you, and continued to stay there after your ringtone woke me up.” He allowed himself a shocked smile, he wanted to keep his emotions neutral so as not to pressure you, but he couldn’t contain this. 

“Could I maybe get a response? I’m feeling a bit vulnerable here.”

“Sorry— yes of course I like you. I mean, have you seen you? You’re quite possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll stay if you’ll still have me, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What a gentleman–” Just as you were about to tell him that sleeping on the couch was a terrible idea with his height, his phone rang again. 

“Reid.”

“Hey Spence, there’s a problem. We aren’t getting that break after all, and we need to get going now. We’ll brief you on the plane, but we need to go. Now.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Thanks JJ.” He looked at you reluctantly after he hung up. 

“I have to go, but I really want to see you again. Would–Would that be ok?” 

“Of course it would Spencer, I’m just a phone call away.” You pulled out one of the post-its you were using to label boxes and scribbled your number on it. 

“Also at the very least, you know where I live.” You laughed, and he did more of a shaky sigh while shaking his head at you. You opened the door for him, and said your goodbyes, wishing him good luck on whatever it was he was about to do. 

You didn’t need to wait by the phone long, with him calling you to set up your first date that evening. It was a short drive from Quantico to your house, so he was hopeful about his new relationship. He just hoped this would be the last time you needed protection. He’d be there, and he just hoped that was enough for now. 

[pixiesfz]

sorry I haven’t been posting much guys I have been MAJOR busy

first meet n.c x reader

plot: how you first met your girlfriend

warning: none

Niamh sighed as she sat down next to Emma, bored out of her mind.

Just one more interview she told herself as she got comfortable in her seat.

She hated interviews with Emma, they always just asked her questions and it left her with nothing to do but just look around.

Plus Jessie had left recently and she was still trying to get used to it.

Sure she still had Z but she’s usually on the other side of the field.

The interview started and Niamh gave her fake smiles to the men and women around her before Emma started off.

She started answering questions about transfers and Sams injury and how it might cost the team but Niamh wasn’t really paying attention.

It wasn’t until you called her name.

“This question is actually for Niamh” you raised your voice whilst Niamh was looking at her microphone, her head snapping up at the sound of her name, only to be met by the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

“Oh” she said out of realisation that everyone had been looking at her, causing a genuine laugh out of Emma.

“Tik Tok will love this” she joked lightly, gathering a chuckle out of the room as Niamh still looked at you.

She shook her head to shake any thoughts away before she smiled “uhm ask away”

You smiled before asking “How do you feel about the media’s response of the recent departure of a good friend of yours Jessie Fleming?”

Niamh could answer the question in her sleep but with your eyes staring at her she found herself stuttering “I uhm- I find that the media is correct in the way that I uhm- that I will miss one of my very good friends but I wish her the absolute best in Portland and now we share a number so uhm- that’s uhm- good”.

Niamh was blushing bright red by the time she finished her answer, she wasn’t even sure if it made any sense. Emma, next to her was trying hard not to laugh at one of her players and the fact that it was very obvious that she was nervous by you.

“thank you Niamh” you smiled and wrote down in your notepad

“Thank you” Niamh repeated before realising her mistake “I mean you’re welcome” she quickly corrected herself and decided she wanted to swallow herself whole as she saw you laugh.

“I think that’s enough” a man said from the back and Niamh had never been so grateful for that man in her entire life as she got out of her seat quickly and walked out.

Getting the answers you needed you tucked your notebook away and stood up yourself to leave, a small blush on your face as you looked back onto your interaction.

Emma wasn’t wrong when she said that Tik Tok would love the interview as screenshots were taken and Niamh’s nervous answer became popular on many platforms.

And very popular in the changing rooms.

“I have never seen you stutter so much” Guro laughed at her as Erin recreated it “You don’t get it” Niamh responded as she thought back to it.

“Caught lacking” Same yelled from the other end of the room

“I’ve heard enough from Jessie” she said, throwing her head back as she remembered her Canadian friend going through the trouble to make the video into a gif and constantly sending it to her as a meme.

“Did you at least get her number?” Aggie asked, now interested in the conversation

“What?” Niamh said “no I was so embarrassed I went straight home”

Guro dropped her mouth open “You didn’t get her number!”

Niamh winced “no…should I have?”

A loud chorus’s of “yes” followed.

“Oh”

The next time you appeared was after the national break and you had been chosen to interview on the pitch this time for one on one time with the players.

As Chelsea won on their home ground with their opponents having to wear their own socks it was a very lovely stadium, filled with Chelsea blue.

When you walked onto the pitch with a microphone and a camera man behind you Niamh’s mouth dropped.

“You’re catching fly’s Charles” Sam laughed at her friend before she followed her eyesight “who is it?”

“That’s- girl- girl interview”

“Holy shit!” Sam realised, somehow getting her friends horrid sentence “go ask for her number!”

Niamh looked at her friend in horror “no!”

“yes!”

“No!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Sam laughed at her victory as Niamh groaned “she’s coming over anyway” Sam pointed out and the English player immediately went red.

“Hi, do you mind if we do an interview with the captain?” You asked and Sam nodded “absolutely”. and walked off.

“Nice to now have an actual conversation” you started as your camera man set up “uhm yeah”

You started your interview quickly after as Niamh took her time answering, having to stop herself from just looking at you the entire time which she failed at

When the camera turned off you smiled at Niamh who stood still, fidgeting with her hands as she looked up at you with her blue eyes.

You weren’t an idiot, you had seen Niamh in interviews and she had been a lot less fidgety and a lot more better with her words, and also her Scottish teammate had dm’d you a video of her gushing about a ‘pretty journalist’.

So you blushed before opening your mouth.

“Do you have something you want to ask me?”

[stabbyfoxandrew]

would love some vampdrew!

ദ്ദി ˵ •̀ᵥ_ᵥ- ˵

WIP Wednesday (3/19) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 229)

"Fuck them." Neil shrugs, not the slightest bit torn up. "I barely know them anyway. I know you four, we've spent a month together. I don't need anyone else."

"Good answer." Andrew says with as pleasant a smile as he can manage. "Obviously you are not allowed to tell anyone about this. If you do, you fuck us all. Do you understand?"

"I've been keeping secrets my whole life, I can hold one more. Who'd believe me anyway?" Neil sits there, watching for Kevin to rejoin them in the land of the living and sober. He doesn't though. Not quite yet. Andrew drank more today than he has in weeks, allowed himself to indulge for the first time in forever. He's fully sated and Kevin's loopy. It will be a while before he's coherent. "So... You drink blood. Kevin's blood?"

"I drink from him, sometimes Aaron or Nicky. The occasional wildlife. I'm doing wonders for the overpopulation of squirrels."

"Really?"

"Yes. Oh! There's the catch you were looking for." Andrew snaps his fingers. A pity he hadn't considered it until now. "Mine and Kevin's deal includes this once a week. Will you give me the same?"

Neil stares at him for a few moments, trying to make up his mind. He decides in Andrew's favor, answering with, "It's only fair."

"Then we have a deal," Andrew announces, holding his hand out. Neil shakes it and starts to roll his sleeve up, his pulse speeding just a touch. Andrew shakes his head. "Oh, not now Neil. I'm full. Saturdays are Kevin days."

"Thaz my name." Kevin helpfully says, eyes still shut. Andrew pats his head.

"Yes, good job," he says very seriously. Then he looks back at Neil. "I'll pencil you in for... Hm, Tuesdays? Yes?"

"Fine."

"Mmm," Kevin hums, coming up just enough so he can bitch. Typical. "No, no. We have practice on Tuesdays, Andrew."

"Then Neil will donate after practice," Andrew shrugs. He goes to the kitchen and grabs one of his favorite chocolate muffins, dropping it in Kevin's lap. "Eat."

'I will.' Kevin slurs into his head.

"Now, Day. Don't make me throw your laptop off the roof. You'd never get to see all those USC games you have saved ever again."

Kevin's eyes open and he gives Andrew puppy eyes. 'You wouldn't do that to me, Andrew.'

"You want to take that risk? Eat it." Andrew points at it in warning and Kevin pouts, but starts to unwrap the muffin.

"Alright, alright. What the hell is that?" Neil asks, yet again reminding Andrew of his presence. He cocks his head at the human.

"What ever do mean?"

"You're constantly having these one-sided conversations and saying the most random shit. What's that about?"

"Oh, didn't I mention? I can read minds."

Neil's face pales. "That's impossible."

"You have just watched me take the blood out of Kevin's veins." Andrew says, but it's clear Neil won't believe anything without positive proof. Andrew scans the room and spots a pad of sticky notes on Aaron's desk. He plucks them up, along with a pen, and passes them both to Neil. "Here you are. Write down a number. Any number you like. It can been five digits or twenty, I don't care. Just write it, then let Kevin see. I will tell you what it says from across the room."

Neil looks from the paper in his hands to Andrew and gets snapped fingers for his trouble.

"Write, Josten." Andrew says. Neil turns the pen over his hand and scratches the graphite along the paper before passing it to Kevin. Kevin, who is luckily lucid enough to understand the game, looks down at it and Andrew shuts his own eyes to jump into Kevin's head.

"592143201, plus a fox paw." Andrew says, reading straight off the pad. Neil snatches it away from Kevin and looks at it, confused. He mouths the number and throws the notepad at the desk.

"Shut up. That's not real. It can't be. You—"

[jazziejax]

𝐈. 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

Pairings- Priest!Art Donaldson x Reader, Priest!Patrick Zwieg x Reader

Summary- Odessa and Antoinette get a creepy letter in the mail

Warnings- religious talk, swearing, inside thoughts, not well written…

Jazzie’s Notes!- I just wanna preface this with saying that I don’t really know how to write this style of writing. I have to learn to write well in first person, but then if I do that, I would have to switch person to person all the time. Let if know if this is good or not, don’t be afraid to give feedback. Also, this isn’t meant to offensive to a religious group, I am religious myself. Sorry for any spelling errors!!!

Word Count- 5,313

Antoinette’s life was far from perfect. She lived in a crappy apartment in a sketchy part of New York with barely any money to afford to live. But she tended to find the bright side of most things. She shared said apartment with her best friend, and she always dreamed of living in New York. Plus, her job was a cute diner with a surprisingly stylish apron. She felt like one of those girls in the rom-com movies. Life could be worse.

“Hi, what can I help you guys with today?” The chipper voice of the young lady said as she pulled the notepad out of her blue apron pocket. She looked expectedly around the group that sat at the diner booth.

“Uh, can we get two French toast meals with the strawberry and whipped cream on them, no bacon or eggs on one of them? And two chocolate chip pancake meals with no whipped cream, just the bananas and blueberries. Four milkshakes, one chocolate with no cherry no whipped cream, one strawberry with the cherry and whipped cream, one vanilla with just the whipped cream, and another chocolate with the cherry and the whipped cream.” Said a blonde woman in one go, before looking up to smile at the waiter.

What a…hearty breakfast. Is it even breakfast time?

The girl squinted, caught off guard by everything that was thrown at her so fast, and didn’t write anything down past the ‘no eggs no bacon�� part. “Um, okay, yeah. I totally have all of that. I’m just gonna repeat it back to make sure it’s correct.” The curly-haired waiter smiled, looking down at the small amount of words scribbled on the yellow paper. Before she could even start talking, the blonde girl spoke up again.

“Oh, no need.” She smiled sweetly, which was obviously fake and condescending by the way she then waved the girl off before continuing the conversation she was in with her friends. Antoinette's eyes darted from one person to the next, utter shock but not surprised at how they all just continued to ignore her presence. She offered a small smile, whispering a small “Okay.” Before walking off to tell Lonny what she remembered of the order.

Which also didn’t go in her favor.

“Why the hell didn’t you write it down?” The older man asked, his New York accent thick on his tongue as she looked down at the small piece of paper the girl handed him.

I totally didn’t even think of that.

“I tried, she was going too fast and wouldn’t let me stay any longer to get it correct.” The girl whined. “I can tell you what I remember from my brain.”

My brain, what am I, seven years old? I need to expand my vocabulary.

“I don’t need what you have in your brain, I need the order on paper! I’m running a restaurant here, curly fry, not a school!” The grump yelled, before moving around the kitchen to continue to cook. Antoinette just stood there, arms stiff at her sides as her eyes drifted towards the open box where the orders got dropped off to see the more than half-empty restaurant. Her brows furrowed inwards only a smidge as she looked back over at her boss.

“Lonny, they’re the only people here.” She stated. All she got in response was the slam of the man’s fist against the metal table out of frustration. Not caring, or rather not paying attention, Antoinette continued. “I mean, them and the homeless guy that sleeps in the booth at the very back. And the occasional person with a laptop to charge.” She shrugged.

Lonny then turned, glaring from afar at the girl who was at least a foot taller than him. Granted, he was a short man.

“You’re lucky I like you curlyfry.” The man grumbled. “Now write down what you can remember then get back to work.” He hissed, turning to the batter he had before him. Antoinette was almost tempted to ask, what work? but refrained from making the situation worse. “Okay.” Was all she said before starting to scribble what she caught of the order on the paper.

My handwriting is atrocious, I need to work on that. Ooh, that’s a big word. Maybe my vocabulary isn’t so terrible. Hey, they do say bad handwriting is a sign of intelligence.

“Also, can you go kick out that homeless guy?” Lonny started, talking to the girl over his shoulder.

“Why can’t you?” She immediately asked, not even thinking over the statement. The older man threw his head back, letting out a deep sigh. “Because I’m working. Ya know, the thing you don’t do.”

Antoinette softly gasped in offense, placing a hand over her heart. “I work. I’m getting this order to you right now.” She said, tripping g the paper from the bit pad and sliding it over to the order station. “Plus, Joey’s gonna be here any second for my shift to end. Although a little late. He can handle it though.”

“Yeah, but I asked you, and I want it done now.” The man spat, never once looking back at the girl as he continued to make the dough for his bread at the cooking station.

“Well, I can’t because I have to wait.” She said, starting to take off her apron. Lonny screamed in annoyance, turning to face his employee. “What did I tell you about that word?!” He screamed desperation and anger in his tone.

“That it’s only used by stinky European teenage boys.” Antoinette related like a mantra at this point. “So stop it!” He yelled as she then tried to walk out of the kitchen, actually having to pee. “And what did I tell you about telling me when you have to pee.”

“I just thought you should know!” Antoinette yelled back through the closing kitchen door. She sighed, starting to continue her way to the bathroom before briefly pausing when she realized the table from earlier was now looking at her in irritation and confusion.

Great, they probably heard me talking about having to pee.

She smiled at them, her dimples being the cherry on top of her adorable face. “Your food will be out shortly.” She said as she encapsulated one hand in the other, voice now calm in contrast to her previous yelling. She went to walk about before stopping once more. “Hopefully.” She said before continuing, taking her apron off in the process and laying it on a hook in the back where her bag and coat were.

She wakes in the dingey bathroom, pulling down her pants and squatting over the bowl. Finally, in some semblance of peace, she had the same thoughts she had every time she used the bathroom at the diner.

My calves have to be extremely strong after doing this for four years. Can they hear me? Gosh, I hope they can’t hear me. I think I’d kill myself. Well no, I wouldn’t because that’s a sin.

Finished, the file looked over next to her for the toilet paper, seeing the roll bare but the sake of two thin sheets stuck to the adhesive. “Aw, man. No paper.” She said to herself. She then tried forward, scouring her mind for a solution to such a predicament. Here she was, leaning forward with her rosary handing in her face, squatted over the toilet seat with urine dripping from her privates.

Today couldn’t be any worse.

Just then, the door shot open and slammed into the girl's head. Antoinette yelped at the harsh contact, not even paying attention to the scream let out by the man above her as she focused on her now throbbing head and tried not to fall into the toilet bowl. “Dammit, Antoinette, lock the door next time.” The man groaned. Antoinette held her head as if her hand would bring some sort of red to the area.

“Ok, Joey can you go grab me some toilet paper? We’re out.” She said, trying to focus on how embarrassing this whole ordeal was.

“Uh, yeah, give me a sec.” He said through the door before drifting away.

Antoinette sighed, her head flopping down as she was once again left in that weird position, now even more embarrassed that someone saw her and that she was hit in the head. And it was her coworker.

Lord. I’m sorry but I must die today.

Joey then came back with a new roll of tissue, handing it to the girl through a crack in the bathroom door, even though he could see the girl in the small bathroom mirror. A few seconds after a flush and the sink running, Antoinette emerged with an awkward smile on her face to see Joey standing in front of the bathroom door.

“Hi.” Was all she said, looking everywhere but his eyes.

“Hey.” The taller olive-skinned man said back. They stood in front of each other for a few moments in silence.

“You should go—“

“Sorry about—“

They stared at the same time, pausing before awkwardly laughing.

“I was gonna say sorry about your head. I kinda just barged in.” Joey continued, smiling down at the girl in front of him.

“It’s fine, I was sitting there very awkwardly. Squatting rather.” She stared, brushing it off. “I was saying that you should head on in there and…do whatever you were going to do.” She shrugged. She could feel her heatwave pick up just being in his presence. And the longer she looked at him in those sultry brown eyes, the feeling of a hot pool started to rumble in her lower stomach. She might’ve been a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid.

Well, not entirely.

She knew she found Joey attractive, but the feeling she got when she stood too close to him was not okay in her book. It triggered her fight or flight, but instead of running away or throwing fists at him, she wanted to jump into his arms.

Yeah, I can’t do this. It’s time to leave.

“Well, it was nice speaking to you Joey, have a nice day. Oh, and Lonny wants you to remove the homeless guy from the booth in the back.” She spat out in a hurry as she grabbed her bag from the hook, along with her coat, and walked back to the front. She passed the table on her way out, seeing that they were now eating. “Oh, you guys got your food. Great.” She said with a small customer service smile as she continued walking.

“Yeah, our order is actually wrong—.” The woman from before couldn’t get out much more before Antoinette was cutting her off.

“Sorry, I’m off the clock. Bye.” She cheesed on her last words and walked out of the door, a bell ringing above her head. She scurried to the alley on the side of the building, to see her bike still double-chained to a random pipe in the next building over. It was basically a little game at this point to come around the corner and see if her bike was still there. Sighing in relief, she rushed over to the baby blue bike with a wicker basket in the front. She unclasped her key from her wrist and unlocked the heavy-duty chains she bought with her last few dollars when she moved to New York. This elderly couple had given her the bike when they saw the girl walking in the rain, saying it was their daughter’s old bike. But since the girl was lost and confused in a very nice neighborhood, she had to buy some chains so she didn’t get jacked before she could get to enjoy its labor.

The girl opened the basket in the front of her bike to place her chains into when she paused at the sight of something wrapped in the large bin. The thing was moving underneath the black cloth and Antoinette was just frozen. She glanced around at the alley to see if anyone was watching her but spotted not a single soul. Sighing, the girl reached out and pulled back the back fabric, being sure to keep her head as far away as she could whilst also being able to see within the basket. Seeing that whatever it was didn’t violently react to her movements, she eased forward to see a tuft of sandy white hair.

What in tarnation is this?

Now confused, the girl leaned forward and pulled the cloth back more to see two small kittens in her backseat, one was this sanely blonde color, the darker part of its body being its nose area and its tail. The other kitten was a mix of colors, mainly orange and black with white spots here and there. Antoinette’s heart immediately melted at the sight of the two kittens.

“Awww!” The girl said, pouting at the creatures who lay in her basket. Well, one creature lay while the other moved around in the basket as best as it could. “Well, aren’t you two just the cutest?” The girl gushed as she lifted the blanket with them two in it to place the chains at the bottom of the basket. Once placing them back down, she looked at the cats, who eventually acknowledged the woman above them with tiny meows, as if they were speaking to her speaking voice. Antoinette nearly cried as she continued to fawn over the cute little animals.

“Yeah, you two are coming home with me.” She said as she mounted her bike and washed her way out of the alley. “Des is just gonna love you two!” She said excitedly, closing the top of her basket and riding off into the New York City streets.

“Why the hell are there kittens in the kitchen?” The light skin girl said as she walked into the small flat and hung her keys and coat near the door before turning to her right to see two kittens in the kitchen licking at a bowl of milk on the corner. Antoinette smiled at the girl as the light from her laptop reflected off her large glasses.

“Hello, Odessa.” The girl said formally laying one hand on top of another as she sat straighter in her seat. The lighter girl furrowed her brows, eyeing her friend across from her in the small kitchen.

“What do you have to say?” The girl demanded out of her rather than asked, already tired from a long work day and knowing Antoinette had something up her sleeve.

She’s sneaky for a catholic…Well, aren’t they all? According to history.

“Well, to answer your previous question, these cats are here because some holy being left them in my basket on my bike.” She started. She could see Odessa was about to speak again but she interrupted before she could. “And before you say anything discouraging, I’d just like to say I did some extensive research. The multicolored one is a calico kitten, and did you know that approximately one calico in 3,000 is male? And guess what? He’s male!” The girl with glasses said, faking her shock again to add to the dramatic value in front of Odessa. The leather-clad girl just leaned against the kitchen archway with her arms folded, face stoic. Seeing that Antoinette was waiting for some sort of reaction before she continued, the woman slightly opened her mouth to let out a small gasp, glancing over at the kitten near her feet.

Antoinette smiled before continuing. “And that quiet and mysterious beauty is a ragdoll kitten. They have an above-average life span, fully grown at 4 years old, quiet by nature, as you can tell. And they are one of the largest cat breeds out there, which is also kind of confusing because you’re supposed to mix other breeds to get a ragdoll cat.” She said, trailing off at the end as she looked at her laptop in confusion, those two facts not making much sense in her mind. Shaking off the thought, the spec-wearing girl looked over at her cooler friend, who just stared at her. Antoinette put on her best smile.

Well, not her best. She was sort of anxious about the whole situation so the smile was kind of awkward, the girl showing all of her adult teeth while her eyes waited on an answer, her brows giving away her concern.

After a moment of silence, the two just looking at one another, Odessa cracked first.

“We can’t keep the cats.” That was all she said before all hell broke loose.

“But, I did so much research on them! I could probably work as a veterinarian with all the knowledge I know now.” The girl in pink whined.

Odessa just started, moving to put her hands in the pockets of her leather pants, the tattoos on her arms showing.

“It was basically a sign from God- well the universe that I’m meant to keep them. They just appeared in my basket, begging for my care.” She continued, changing her words when she saw the girl's brow spike at the mention of the guy up above. That still didn’t get a reaction out of the girl, Odessa just moved across the small kitchen and past the tiny table to the fridge. Antoinette followed her moments within her seat, desperation etched into her face.

“I mean, it won’t cost us much. I can use the bin we use for our socks as their litter box and just use sand from the cigarette pot downstairs.” I’m grasping at freaking straws here.

Odessa turned around once she had the beer in her hands and used the counter to pop the lid off. “And for now we can just give them milk, ya know since we always have some that go bad and we’re lactose intolerant anyway.” She continued, taking her glasses off her face to look at her friend.

Odessa cringed at her words, and leaned against the counter now, which was only about three feet away from the other girl. “That sounds like a terrible life for these poor kittens, Antoinette. And us.” She said before taking a swig of her beer. “We can’t afford them.”

“I mean, it's not like we’re poor. We can take care of them.”

“We have a box television in the year 2023…” Odessa started, “And it’s not even in our living room, it’s in the kitchen and it’s the size of a basketball.” She finished, pointing over to the small television on the corner of the table that softly played reruns of old television shows with the antenna that aimed at the small kitchen window. “We don’t even have fucking cable.”

“Language,” Antoinette muttered. “I mean, at least we get to watch Sex & The City and Living Single for free.” She smiled over at Odessa, who gave her a simple stare. “We can’t afford them, Bennie.” She said softly.

Antoinette then deflated, shoulders sagging as she leaned back in the old wooden chair. She had lost all hope as soon as the girl said that name, Odessa only calling her that when she was serious about something. Mainly because Odessa hated nicknames. “Okay, I’ll find them somewhere tomorrow.” She softly whined before putting her head in her hands. Odessa pursed her lips in sadness, patting the girl on the shoulder for comfort before making her way out of the kitchen. It only took her about three steps before she was in what most would call a living room, but Odessa liked to call it her room. Since it essentially was her room.

The far wall was made of brick, with a green couch in front of it that let out into her bed and a small back circle table in the middle, on top of an ugly carpet.

The girl sighed as she turned and dropped down onto the couch, letting her back hit the seat cushions. The old ceiling light hurt her eyes and made her already terrible hangover headache worse, so she threw her arms over her eye, placing her face in her elbow. Getting home late last night from one of her small concerts, she liked to call them, at the bar she worked at, she got a little too wasted. It was a recurring theme for her honestly.

Get up, go to work at the bar, wait till 10 to start performing, do that until about 2 am, get drunk afterward and either go home with whoever she decides to lay with that night or go to her humble abode. She didn’t perform every night, but when she did, that was usually the routine. And now she was suffering the consequences of getting drunk and staying up until 5 am when she had to work only hours later. At least she didn’t perform tonight, now she could stay in longer since it was only 6.

Her head becoming too much, the girl sat up from the couch to head to the bathroom to see if she could salvage some pain pills. But before she could, the sight of a pile of letters caught her eye. Reaching over, she grabbed the small pile to sort through.

Bill, bill, bill, creepy letter, postcards, bill, rent, perfume samples…What the hell?…

Odessa paused at the sight of the letter, the off-white paper wax-sealed with a red stamp. She squinted, looking at the seal to see if she knew the symbol from somewhere. Looking at it in just the wax form, she couldn’t quite make it out but she knew it looked familiar. Standing up, she kept her eyes on the letter as she walked back to the kitchen.

“Did you see this creepy ass letter in the mail?” She asked, standing the the archway and turning the letter to face Antoinette, who had her head propped on her chin as she sadly looked at places where she could drop the kittens off. Speaking of kittens, they now lay in the girls’ lap, curled into one another in almost a yin and yang symbol.

Antoinette looked up, squinting at the girl who was blurry since she didn’t have on her glasses. Odessa walked forward, placing the letter in front of her roommate.

Placing her spec on, Antoinette inspected the letter more, immediately recognizing the symbol. She furrowed her brows, glancing up at the even more confused Odessa. Gliding her long bare nails under the wax seal, she popped the envelope open and pulled out the letter. “Ohh, handwritten.” She said to herself as she looked at the unfolded paper.

She was silent as she read through the letter, causing Odessa to just stand before her and wait for the girl to speak. She watched Antoinette read the letter, her face going through a mix of emotions. First, her brows raised in surprise in the beginning as she hummed in contempt. Then her eyes widened as she continued before she got to the end of the letter and gasped.

“What is it?! You’re making my blood pressure rise.” Odessa said, watching the girl intensely.

“It’s from Saint Mary’s.” She started, not looking up to see Odessa cringe at the words. “They said a lot has changed in the last four years. Mother Agnes died, and they refurbished the church and built it. And they even have new staff, but the community is failing. They sent letters to all the kids that grew up in the foster home to see if they’d come to work there to improve their quality of life. Pay and free housing included.” She finished, looking up at the girl before her.

Neither of them could look each other in the eyes at the news, both of them still processing everything. Mainly the information about Mother Agnes dying. There was a sense of relief as if the girls had been haunted by everything that woman did to them. And in a sense, they were. They’ve endured too much pain at the hands of Mother Agnes. So much pain that they had to live with their whole lives, and leaving there didn’t help as much as they thought it would. They just now had a place to express such feelings out loud. Although they never did. Conditioning at its finest. Just thinking about their youth made Odessa want to break down and cry after so many years of pushing those memories away. And Antoinette…she could have a panic attack just being back at such a place.

After a moment of silence, Antoinette read over the letter again and again while Odessa just started in thought, someone finally spoke.

“We should do it.” She said softly, not looking up in fear of Odessa’s reaction.

“And why the hell would we do that?” The other girl asked harshly, offended that Antoinette even thought of such a possibility.

“Because it could help.” She answered softly. “We could use the money.”

“We have money. You and I both work.”

“You said it yourself, Des,” Antoinette said looking up, her hands slightly shaking as she played with the letter in her hands. The thought of going back wasn’t doing her psyche any good, but she felt as if this was a good opportunity. Maybe this could be good for us. “We don’t have the money.”

“I said that about your cats. Me and you are living just fine.” Odessa spat, her words harsh as she looked down at the darker-skinned girl. Antoinette subtly flinched at her tone, looking back down at the letter in her hands. Odessa saw her small movements and immediately felt bad, she wasn’t making the situation any better.

“It could be good for us.” Antoinette started again, not looking up this time. “We could go there and help out. Make it a better place than it was when we were there. Be nicer to the children so they…don’t end up like us.” She said. Her words hung in the air for a moment. “I mean, what other place is gonna offer us free housing and a job?”

“We go back just so we can be in debt to those people?” Odessa stated, ignoring what the girl previously said about helping the children. “So they can treat us like some charity case? Like they did when we were foster children?” She continued to ask, staring at the top of Antoinette’s head since she refused to lift her eyes from the wax she was ripping off the paper envelope. “I’m not going through that again, not for some people who didn’t give a damn about us then.”

“There’s new people.”

“Yeah, and who do you think taught them what they know?” She asked, folding her arms. There was a thick silence between them.

Antoinette nodded, never looking up. “You're right.” She closed her old laptop and adjusted the kittens into her arms. She then tucked her laptop under her arm and stood up. “I’m gonna go to bed now, good night.” She said softly, walking past Odessa and into the small room on the other side of the living room. Odessa sighed, placing her head into her head as she heard the girl's door softly close from her place in the kitchen.

Antoinette didn’t come out of her room after that, but Odessa could hear her shuffling around in the very small space. She now lay on her bed couch, looking over at the skinny door every time she heard the slightest moment from the room. She would wait to see if the girl would come out in the middle of the night like she always did to ask her random questions, say a random fact, or go to the kitchen to get some water and get caught up in the small television. But none of that ever came.

As soon as Odessa thought sleep was about to finally meet her halfway, she got caught in the words Antoinette said earlier. About helping the children.

Now, Odessa was far from a children's type of person. She was far from a people person, honestly, but she had to make a living somehow. So, for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why she was so affected by the girl's words as soon as they left her mouth. But deep down, she knew why. And so did Antoinette.

Even in the foster home, Odessa would always protect the younger kids from punishment. Taking all their lashing so she didn’t have to hear the cries of children being hurt. Antoinette is one of those kids when the others would blame things on her. And she would take their pain with no words since the age of fourteen. She never vocally expressed the pain she felt emotionally, mentally, and definitely not physically. That mentality infuriated Mother Agnes to the point she would single the girl out and beat the girl harder to see if she could make her break. But Odessa only let tears slip when she was alone.

Now Antoinette didn’t know the severity her words would have on Odessa’s mind, so she couldn’t blame the girl. But she knew that the girl was right. Odessa would do anything in her power to make sure no other kids ended up like her. She would do anything to not hear the cries of pain from children who busted and wanted to be accepted and loved.

And with that thought, she got up from the bed and walked over to Antoinette’s room. She opened the small door that led to the tiny room to see the girl’s back facing the door, looking out the window at the city as she lay in bed and petted the two cats.

“I changed my mind.” She said softly.

Antoinette glanced over her shoulder. “About the cats?” She started. “Nah, I think you’re right. I don’t think I can care for them properly.” She said sadly, turning to look back out of the window.

“No, not about the cats,” Odessa stated.

There was a pause between the two, Antoinette processing the girl's words. She then sat up in her bed and turned to face the girl at her door, five feet away from her. “What made you change your mind?” She asked softly.

“You were right. About everything.” She shrugged, biting her lip. She was anxious about the whole situation. Coming to such a conclusion about her feelings and the thought of going back to the town brought more bad memories than good. But also to how her best friend would react. But that was all washed away when she saw the girl smile.

“Can I bring the cats?” She asked, pointing to the sleeping kittens in her bed. Odessa giggled, looking at the pleading smile on her friend's face.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, they’ll have more space to grow. Its a better life than here.” She said shrugging.

Antoinette then gasped. “Oh! Now I can get one of those cute wax melt sets so I can’t write back to them.” She smiled excitedly. “Oh, this is gonna be so great!”

Odessa smiled at the girl's excitement. “Now get some sleep, we have some things to sort out before we head up.” That was all she said before she closed the door behind her and made her way back to bed. She let out one final sigh before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her away.

Antoinette smiled at the door as it closed before looking down at the animals at her side. “Ya see, prayers do get answered, guys.” She said, holding up her right hand that was wrapped in her rosary, showing it to the sleeping cats. “Oh, you guys can’t hear me. Or understand me. Or understand religion. I need to go to bed.” She hugged before plopping down onto her pillow with an anxious smile and closing her eyes.

Let me know if you guys like the story and if you’d liked to be added to the taglist!!!

[callsignfoxy]

The notes- Simon Riley x reader

Simon, you, and the rest of Task Force 141 had been back at base a few days after a decent mission. During which, comms had gone down. You and Simon had been paired up and we're laying low and couldn't speak. You withdrew a notepad and pen from your tactical vest and you began exchanging notes during the duration until comms were back up. Now that you all were back at base, Ghost wanted to keep the conversation going. He didn't fuckin' know why, but he thought the letter writing had been endearing and made it easy to speak to you. One morning at breakfast, he tossed you a folded piece of paper and this began your conversation by pen and paper. These are just some of the notes. **Based on my own character, I tried to make it more vague.**

Simon: We're going to the range later today. Soap said you should come. Want to come?

You: No.

Simon: I'll teach you how to snipe.

You: Okay.

Simon: That's it?

You: I wanna learn. Plus, I wanna see Soap.

Simon: You wanna see Soap?

You: Yeah, so?

Simon: Gross

You: Shut the fuck up, Riley.

Simon: Yeah yeah, I'm sure you want to shut me up.

You: Everyday.

Simon: I have a question.

You: Shoot.

Simon: Would you fuck soap?

You: Why? He askin'?

Simon: No.

You: Then, why does it matter?

Simon: Just answer.

You: You never answer my questions, you nosy asshole.

Simon: Deflecting.

You: And you're an asshole.

Simon: Right.

You: No. He's a really good friend.

Simon: Really?

You: Yeah. He's a good man.

Simon: You've thought about it though.

You: Who hasn't.

Simon: I haven't.

You: Mk.

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[ruwriteshours]

MONSTERS IN MY ROOM (PART I) ⛧ L.JN

↝ pairing: lee jeno x fem! reader

↝ genre: mortal instrumental! au, angst, gore, urban fantasy, fluff, eventual smut (MINORS DNI)

↝ warning: mention of death of characters

↝ summary: You didn't know your usual habits would become a huge significant part of your life. With little memories of your past, you are forced to remember to find your missing mother with the help of Jeno, an immortal.

"Yeah, I know I wouldn't forget." You groaned, your hand clutching onto the phone as you moved it to the other side of your ear. "You've been talking about it since last week."

You could hear grumbling noise of complaint coming from Jongho at the other line. "Well, how am I suppose to know you'll follow through. Your mom's crazy."

"Well, my mom doesn't control my life." You began sketching on your notepad, your fingers tracing on the symbol you drew as you let out your usual monologue. "I'm three more months to eighteen. Plus, she won't know a thing." You whispered out the last part.

"Yeah, whatever 'Miss Independent'." You giggled. "Just don't get both of us in trouble."

"Oh, don't be such a wuss. She won't suspect a thing." You assured, before hanging up— not even giving Jongho the chance to retaliate.

Flipping through the pages of you sketchbook, you had realised how much your sudden habbit had gotten worse. Your book was occupied with the same drawings of the symbols. All of it being repeated.

Sighing under your breath, you walked out of your room to wash up. "Hey, sweetie!" Your mother's chirpy voice greeted you by the kitchen, preoccupied with her cooking. Muttering back a soft 'hey' as you walked away only to be stopped again by her voice calling out to you.

Whining, you turned around. "What is it?"

Turning off the stove, she looked up at you with her beaming smile. "I see you've gotten busy."

Glancing down at your hand, you could see the graphite ink of your pencil had painted your entire hand— smudging your clean shirt.

"Yeah, it's for a project." You lied, attempting to rub off the dirt.

Your mother only prodded further. "Well, tell me more then." She said excitedly. You laughed awkwardly as you gestured towards the bathroom. "I would love to, mom but I'm meeting Jongho soon." You excused.

"Oh," You could hear the tease in her voice. "Your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" You yelled out, a little too quickly. "He's a boy and he's my friend. He's my boy-space-friend." You explained, which only cause your mother to smile even more annoyingly. "Alright, sweetie. Have fun."

"He really isn't!" You began rushing to the bathroom to get ready. The last thing you heard was the gleeful laugh of your mother.

"Hey— woah." Startled by the sudden force being pulled on him as you hastily dragged Jongho out of your house. "What's the rush?"

"Don't want you to suffer by the wrath of my mom." You half-joked, still bothered by her comment. "Uh oh, what'd she say this time?" He laughed seeing your flustered expression.

"Nothing that concerns you." You grumbled, still holding onto his elbow to have him match your pace. He hummed, "Sure must be embarassing to have you this worked up."

"Shut up!" You hit his shoulder as it only fueled his humour, not finding your weak attack effective.

The walk towards the cafe was fairly short, your conversation with your best friend had always resulted in light bantering— not that you minded. Despite what everyone says about Jongho, (that he was someone who always plaster a cold exterior) you knew he had that warm light inside of him. His sense of humour and brightful personality was what made you want to get to know him more.

"Thanks a lot for doing this for me." Jongho spoke up. You smiled, "Don't go soft on me now, what are friends for?"

Oblivious, you didn't take notice on how Jongho's shoulder seem to slump— disappointed by your response. He was quick to cover up by bumping into your shoulder playfully, chuckling as you hit him back dramatically. Nearing to the destination, he walked up first to open the door. You didn't bother picking up on his gentleman act, having being used to his gesture.

"I'll get us a drink." He declared as the both of you found a seating. "Don't forg-" He was quick to interrupt you, though. "Forget to add in more whipped cream, got it."

With your order, he made his way to the queue. Your attention now being directed to the stage, listening to poetry slam— watching as the man stumble with his words, the beat of the drum not matching up to his speech. Letting out a sound of amusement, you turned your head to the tinted window— only to catch your attention at a certain symbol.

The same symbol you drew.

Without much though, you walked out of the cafe to take a closer look. Crossing the road carefully, you made your way to the open alley— observing excrutiatingly at the drawing. Your heart having picked up the sense of familiarity as your brain couldn't seem to remember. You didn't know you had taken so long outside until you heard Jongho's voice, followed by his hand holding onto your shoulder.

"Hey, why are you out here?" He asked, startling you out of your daze. Shrugging off, you could only utter, "I don't know."

He was about to question further when you turned to face him abruptly. "Let's go back." You grabbed his hand as you led him back to the cafe— thankfully, your seat was not being taken.

"Are you alright? You're being awfully quiet." He asked, noticing that you were in your head and was not paying attention to the event. You looked up at him with a small smile, "It's nothing, I'm just tired."

"Agony. Pain. Suffer." The voice of the performer acting out his scene.

"Tell me about it." He joked. "We'll finish up and go, you want another packet of sugar?" You nodded, "The brown one, please."

"Gotcha."

Watching him walk off, you let out a sigh of relief. You noticed a blonde-haired girl eyeing your best friend, a smile played on your lips as you observed the both of them exchanging greetings. You also couldn't help but notice that she kept staring at Jongho, obviously taking interest in him. Your heart soared, happy that your best friend had a chance to find someone. However, you were quick to assume when he walked away— rather quickly to your seat, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Why'd you leave so quick." He looked at you confused, "That girl you just talked to, she's totally into you."

He shrugged, not finding interest in the topic. "Not my type." You scoffed, "Oh please, you can go to her. I don't mind."

He scoffed back, "And leave you alone. No way." You groaned at his stubborness, "Act like that and you're gonna be single for life." You said jokingly, sprinkling the sugar onto your cup.

He didn't seem to take offense to your insult as he shrugged. "Maybe I'm saving myself for someone." You looked around dramatically, as if trying to search for who he was talking about. "Who?"

He didn't get to answer your question when the cheers and clapping sounds from the audience interrupted him, though you could see that he seemed relief to have avoided the topic altogether. Not soon after, the both of you joined in— acting as if you were listening to the awful speech.

The sky eventually went dark as the both of you took a detour, looking through every single local clubs that were available. As you past through every one of them, your eyes landed on the sign— with the same damn symbol on it. You turned towards Jongho as you pointed at the place. "Let's go here."

"Do you think it'll work?" Jongho asked incredulously.

"Of course it will."

Walking towards the entrance of the club, you were about to recite your script that you had prepared when the person behind the both of you cut through. His eyes were electric blue, hair spiked and his body covered in tattoos— all of which were random signs and symbols that had no meaning. "What an asshole." Jongho murmured.

Annoyed with the guy's rudeness, you looked up only to have an idea popped onto your head, "Actually, follow my lead." Ignoring his protest, you walked up to the bouncer with a confident facade as you pointed at the sign on top. "What does that symbol mean?"

Your question perked up the man that skipped ahead of you, turning around to look at you as he shared a look with the boucer. The man briefly whispered in his ear.

"What are you talking about?" Jongho harshly commented, his face panicking as he thought you had lost your mind. "Relax." You assured, focusing ahead as you watched the two men interact.

Not a moment after, the bouncer allowed the both of you inside. You let out a sigh of relief as you turned around to face Jongho with a smug smile.

"Did you went here without me before?" He asked in amusement.

The further you went inside the club, you squeezed your way through the crowds of drunkard people. Their bodies swaying to the side as the upbeat music echoed and flashing lights shining through the room. Jongho struggled to trail behind you, a look of discomfort takes over his face.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked— well shouted, as he was trying to overpower the loud music. You replied back with the same volume, "Yeah, but just water please!"

You looked around, your eyes catched a sight of the man who let you in the room. You were about to walk up to him, ready to ask him questions when his eyes looked behind you. Turning around, you caught sight on the most gorgeous woman in the room, her black hair swayed down her shoulders— the tight white dress complimented her curves, the tilted smirk of her lips as her sultry eyes bored onto the man.

Your eyes followed his movements, watching him walk towards the woman. You couldn't ignore the sudden feeling in the pit of your stomach, your feet following the both of them in the other area of the club— which is still in an open area, where everyone could see. You began to worry.

Something felt off.

Just as you predicted, the ring on the woman's fingers began slithering its way like a snake, transforming into a metal coil as it began wrapping itself on the man's neck. You gasped in shocked, completely in disbelief as you continued to watch the scene unfold.

The gurgling sound of the man struggling to gasp for air was spine-chilling. He clawed his hands around the metal coil but that only enrages the woman. The fury of the woman turned the colours of her eyes green as she balled her hands into fists— which made the material tightened around his throat. You looked around panicking as you noticed how the crowded room didn't seem to react at all at the murderous scene that was happening right in front of their faces, as if these people were invisible.

Shortly, a figure came in and began holding the man down— you watched helplessly as he was pleading for his life. Just then, another man came emerging through the crowd with his hood up, hiding his identity. You could only make out the black strands of his hair that was sticking out as he pulled out a weapon. His hand tracing along the lines of those threatening, sharp knife.

Without much thought, his knife sliced against the man's throat— completely decapitating his neck clean off. The blood began splattering everywhere, only now that you realised that the blood was black in colour as the fog escaped his body like acid. The sound of the man hissing in agony made you scream at the top of your lungs.

The three individuals hastily turned their heads towards the sound, seeing you in utter horror— from the way you covered your mouth as you teared up at the gruesome sight. The dead man was transformed into a horrifying parasite before it melted away into nothingness.

Your sudden screaming has also alerted the people in the room, who turned their heads towards you in confusion— not seeing the brutal death of the man. Your eyes dart towards the three people, their eyes staring back at yours. You could finally see the face of the hooded man. He was the last to fled the scene, taking a couple of steps closer towards you as his gaze was set at yours. His hooded eyes began to squint, as if trying to recognise you.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Jongho was at your side in an instant, his hand grabbing onto your face to make you face him. You couldn't listen to his words, not when the fresh memory keeps repeating itself at the back of your head.

"I know what I saw." You rushed out of the club. "They killed that guy!" You repeated for what seemed to be the millionth time, still shaking from fear.

"Did you drink something, perhaps?" He asked, following your steps as he reached his hand out to call for a cab. "I heard that these people popped some stuff in the air to make sure we have a good time." He explained, trying to find some logical reasonings for your outbursts.

"Then how come you're not affected by it." You shot back, your makeup now smudged from the tears you let out previously— in a state complete mess. Thankfully a taxi came to a stop as the both of you hopped inside, his constant assurance only left you with more anxiety.

You knew what you saw.

After bidding your goodbye's, you were quick on your feet to make a beeline to your room— shutting your eyes in hopes to get some rests. Your vision clogged and your mind went black as you succummed to the darkness.

The morning after, groaning as you let out a stretch— rubbing your eyes but hissing at the sudden burning sensation that made your eyes water. Looking down, your hands were completely smudged with the ink of your pencil. In shock, you looked around your room as you gasped in horror. Papers were scattered across the floor, hung up and pasted on your cream textured walls. The same drawing accumulating in your room. You grabbed onto a couple and shoved it inside your bad, dashing out of your room as you made your way to the door.

However, you didn't make it far when the voice of your mother stopped you. "You went back late last night." Her usual nagging tone bugged you, not in the mood to get yelled at.

"I know, I'm sorry but I really have to go now." You pleaded, turning around to face your mother. Her eyes widened in shock seeing you in such a distress state.

The dark circles under your eyes are prominent as your hair flung in every direction. Despite the amount of sleep you had last night, it was as if you hadn't slept in days. "You can't leave."

You scowled in annoyance. "Yes, I can. I'm just going to hang out with Jongho, mom. It's fine." Your mother wasn't convinced, "So what? You're going to go off to him when you have problems, isn't that more of what you would do to a boyfriend." This time, you didn't detect any playfulness in her voice— it was as if she was hurt that you couldn't confide in her.

It was then that she realised that she needed to tell you the truth. Now. However, before she could utter a word— Jongho made his presence known as he stepped inside the house, which gave you the opportunity to fled, ignoring your mother's calls.

Showing the drawings to Jongho, you could only explain the events that had been happening as you watched his face contort to confusion— obviously not believing your spiel. Sitting at the cafe with eyes like a mad woman, it was difficult to convince Jongho. Ignoring his advice as you saw the same hooded man from the club, ignoring your train of thought. Your eyes widened in horror as you cowered away from his vision.

"What? What are you looking at?" Jongho asked exasperately as he began scouting around.

"Wait here." You said before running off, in hopes to finally get some answers— even if it killed you.

"Who the fuck are you?" You sneered nastily, shutting the back door that was leading you to an alley. The man chuckled at your rudeness.

"Lovely girl, aren't you?"

"This isn't funny! You killed someone, you're a murderer!" You accused, shouting at the man.

"I prefer to be called Jeno, actually." He stated as a matter-of-factly. "But I guess people who love to assume can call me that too."

"I know what I saw." You retorted.

"You think you know what you saw." He pointed at you, his eyes hardened.

Grabbing his hands to take a closer look at his tattoo, the same symbol being drawn on his hand— with shaking hands, you dug under your pockets to retrieve the drawing that you drew as you shoved it up to his face. "Why do I keep drawing this."

He hummed, taking the piece of paper as he observed it. "It's a mundane." He explained, as if there was no further explanation needed.

"What's a mundane?" You asked incredulously, prodding the man to continue. He looked down at you, his voice dropping an octave. "Someone that's from the human world."

"Well, if I'm not a human then what am I?"

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

©ruwriteshours

[cacoetheswriting]

pearl: october 1980

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k summary: eddie has a conversation with the girl of his dreams.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, part of a slow burn, a lil mutual pining, adult language, use of pet names, oblivious idiots, self-doubt / insecurities - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist <- part of this lil series, but can definitely be read as a standalone.

When it came to starting a conversation with people, Eddie sure as hell was not the confident type.

Middle School didn’t allow for a lot of practice, especially since as a person with interests that differed from the norm, he was shunned quite early on into a category he couldn’t, and often still can’t get out of no matter how hard he tries: freak.

People weren’t lining up to spend time with him even in a platonic capacity, and they sure as hell didn’t want to get to know him in a romantic way.

But with time, Eddie learned to be okay with that.

Especially since, as it turns out, most girls in Hawkins had some sort of ‘bad boy’ fantasy they liked to keep a dirty little secret and he was happy to oblige.

Plus it’s not like he badly needed anyone to actually call his own. High School was apparently a time of self-discovery and what he discovered in the last month was that honestly, he really didn’t mind being the almost invisible freak.

That all changed when you came around.

Your entrance into his life was rather unexpected and Eddie quickly realised that he needed to up his game. Yeah, perhaps he still wanted to be left alone, but that thought took a back burner whenever you laughed.

Honey, the sound of your laughter. Every time he heard it, his heart would skip a beat and his palms would start to feel clammy, sweaty, as he gravitated towards the sound instantly. As he gravitated towards you.

Unfortunately for Eddie, so did everyone else in this godforsaken town. 

Who could blame them? Your arrival right at the start of the school year was perhaps the most exciting thing to happen in Hawkins since that maniac Creel murdered his entire family in the late 50s.

You had quickly become the new it girl and in the blink of an eye, you two were running in different circles. Your reality had become so far removed from his own, any hopes or dreams he had of getting to know you on a deeper level had become just that: dreams.

God knows he still thought about you often.

“Care to share with the rest of the group, Mr. Saltzman?” the teacher calls out, causing all heads to turn simultaneously in the general direction of the distraction. 

This includes Eddie's and he's glancing up from the scribbles in his notepad to focus instead on a few rows ahead where you, the girl everyone wanted to be friends with, sat.

The boy sitting next to you shifts uncomfortably in his seat, shaking his head. 

“We were just discussing the history of Halloween,” you chime sweetly. The teacher doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, but with such a likeable personality like yours, there’s not much else to say.

“Blake here doesn't believe Halloween dates back to the Celts, and the ancient festival of Samhain,” you continue with the quite convincing lie and Eddie's surprised you know these obscure facts, “He thinks I’m bluffing when I say the day marked the end of summer for the Celts, who believed on the night of October 31st the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred, thus what we now know and celebrate as Halloween.”

Your confidence certainly is admirable, although why you choose to protect the douche you called a ‘friend’ was beyond the young metalhead.

“I guess the conversation probably could have waited till after class so, won’t happen again. We’re sorry,” you add with a soft smile.

When the teacher returns to the blackboard, resuming the lesson no one was really paying attention to anyway, Eddie observes as you mumble something to Blake before turning your head ever so slightly in his direction. 

The air hitches in his throat as he awaits the standard "What are you looking at, freak.", but it never comes.

Instead, you smile at him and Eddie can feel his face turn a gleaming shade of red — pathetic. He quickly ducks his head down, but can still feel your eyes on him. It takes everything he has to stop himself from looking up again, afraid of somehow making a fool of himself.

Luckily, he manages to keep distracted till the bell rings, but he's not completely in the clear 'cause as everyone disperses in a hurry, you approach him.

“What you doodlin’?”

When he doesn't immediately answer, or meet your gaze for that matter, your hand appears in his field of vision. Your moves are hesitant at first, but since Eddie doesn't protest, you twirl the notebook around on the desk.

“Well shit, Eddie. These are really fucking cool.”

He snaps his head up, possibly a little too quickly, a little too eagerly, but he couldn’t help the act of surprise 'cause he didn’t realise…

“You know my name?”

Your pretty eyes latch onto his momentarily and a smile circles your lips. “Of course I do. As the new kid in town, I had to make it my business to know who’s who since y’all ogled me and my family from day one as if we were from outer space.”

He let out a semi-nervous chuckle as you pause, glancing back down at the notebook. 

“Plus, you’re pretty much the only person in this entire school who’s got a good taste in music,” you state casually, as if it’s no big deal. And to you it’s not. Though for Eddie, your admission causes his heart to flutter inside his chest since no one's ever admitted out loud to liking the same shit as him.

“Anyway, are you going to this Halloween party tonight? I’m thinking of dressing up as Janis Joplin and I could really use someone to be Peter Albin…”

“I’d love to!”

You giggle at his excitement and Eddie's thanking some lucky stars that his rather abrupt reaction doesn’t scare you off.

“I-I mean, I love Peter Albin. Janis too. Dressing up as them with you would be cool," he rambles.

“Cool,” you say and flick through some pages of his notebook and bend over slightly to scribble something down. “This is my address. Come by around six if you wanna make it for dinner, my mom’s making lasagna. Also, if you wanna stay over after the party, we have a spare room so bring a change of clothes or somethin’.”

Stay over at your house... Eddie swallows and does his best not to show how his insides are literally shaking at the thought of: a) going to a party with you, and b) this casual invite to what one could only call a sleepover.

The bell rings, signalling it’s time for next period.

A small part of the metalhead is angry since it means the two of you have to part ways, at least for now, but as he stands to gather his things, to his pleasant surprise, you wait. 

A certain envious feeling spreads through Eddie because he was never good at making friends, yet it seemed to come so naturally to you. Then something crosses his mind. What if this is some elaborate joke? After all, you are friends with some of the worst people this school has to offer, however, he does his best to shake the thought away for now and follows you out into the crowded hallway.

“So, are you a big Joplin fan?” Eddie asks, his best attempt to continue the conversation.

“Pearl is my favourite album,” you reply, “I know that could be a little tame to someone who wears a Judas Priest t-shirt, but I promise I also take devil worship super seriously.”

He snorts at your joke and when your eyes meet his once again, his priorities shift and he swear he's willing to do quite possibly anything to become your friend.

To say you checked your appearance at least forty times wouldn’t be a gross over exaggeration.

You had the outfit planned long before you were even invited to this Halloween party, you knew it was perfect and something Janis Joplin herself would likely wear, yet ever since you asked Eddie Munson to not only join you, but also compliment the costume with his own, you were suddenly feeling nervous.

The curly-haired teen was by far the coolest person in this stingy town — although it didn’t seem like he knew that or like anyone else shared your belief.

His metalhead vibe reminded you a lot of the kids you grew up around, which is exactly the initial reason why you were so drawn to him. Though it took you weeks to finally approach him. Partially because you were scared he’d brush you off, but mainly because ever since you moved to Hawkins with your parents at the brink of August and September, the more popular kids latched onto you like leeches.

“Don’t waste your time with Munson,” Blake would say repeatedly, “He’s a freak.”

Unfortunately for your new group of friends, you didn’t care about social status and it also helped to know Eddie was just as fascinated with you as you were with him. His secret glances and soft smiles when no one else was looking only affirmed that belief.

So you bit the bullet and invited him out.

Bold move on your part. One you were almost starting to regret as you nervously flattened the crinkles of your loose shirt, glancing at the clock on the wall in anticipation.

Eddie doesn’t show up for dinner.

You try to hide the disappointment in front of your parents and eat the meal while actively listening to your dad retelling the events from his day at work.

“Kid, I tell ya, moving here was the best idea your mother’s ever had. Aside from marrying me and havin' you, of course. Wanna know the most exciting thing that’s happened? There was a mixup with our lunch order. Can you believe it?”

You help mom clean up after before going to quickly freshen up, brush your teeth, and grab your set of house keys. After saying a quick goodbye, still thinking about the boy that never showed, you walk outside and are about to begin your journey to the party you no longer wanted to go to when a figure emerges from the shadows.

“Shit,” you exhale and place a hand over your heart, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says sheepishly, running a hand through his brown locks. “I-I wasn’t sure if you were still home so…”

Your brows string together as you take a step towards him.

“How long have you been out here, Eddie?”

“Uhm, at least the last half hour,” he answers, “I noticed the light was on upstairs, but I wasn’t sure if that was your room or not. Figured I’d hang around and you’d either show up or I’d head home embarrassed.” He pauses. “Sorry I didn’t come for dinner.”

“It’s okay,” a white-lie. “Still wanna go to the party?”

“If you want to.”

Eddie slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and you notice then how good he looks under the dim street lamps. Peter Albin, eat your heart out.

“I like your outfit,” you compliment him with a genuine smile and you swear you can see him blush.

“Thanks,” he says with a little more confidence than he’s displayed thus far, “but you arguably look a hundred percent better than me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you, Eddie. That’s very sweet.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you never make it to the party.

Instead, Eddie offers to show me Skull Rock and that’s how you end up laying down on the cold ground, arm-to-arm, somewhere in the middle of the forest. 

Truth be told, if you were with anyone else, you wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place. An eerily quiet night and the deep dark woods are like a recipe for disaster in most horror movies.

Things felt different with Eddie.

Despite only having three conversations in the span of one day, the doe-eyed boy made you feel safe.

The few hours hiding from the world under this rock also made you realise how much you actually have in common. The conversation flow was incredibly natural. You drifted from topic to topic as if you had known each other a lifetime and in the space of two hours, you went from sitting across from one another to being in the formerly named position — pinkies gently grazing.

His presence next to yours is soothing. It’s also exciting, thrilling even. You hadn’t experienced this sensation before, with anyone, and you quickly find yourself thinking perhaps this could be more than just a friendship.

Until Eddie says, “Friends are hard to come by in Hawkins. I’m glad we’re here and I hope we can hang out more.”

Darkness hides your disappointment.

Short lived, the idea of dating the boy next to you so it’s easy to extinguish the flame inside and convince yourself that perhaps this was for the best.

Relationships end. Sometimes they do so quite badly.

Friendships however, well, they have a tendency to last forever.

“From now on, Eddie, we’ll never not be hanging out.”

pearl masterlist

thank you for reading <3

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys

[readerlovr]

For Richer or for Poorer

Pt. 2

Pt.1

This past week has been the hardest I have ever worked. Growing up seeing my dad and brothers work, I always knew was difficult, but doing it yourself is on another level. So I can only imagine what the boss feels. It’s Friday so luckily it’s the last day of the week for us.

Although Mr. Beresford has two meetings today which I have to attend. As I am organizing my planner for next week, I get an email. It’s from one of the companies we have a meeting with saying they can no longer meet at 3, and can only meet after 5. I would normally look skeptical because the normal work day ends at 5, but Mr. Beresford stays in his office long after I leave for the day. Before I send the company a confirmation, I check Mr. Beresford’s agenda and I see that he has a free period between 5:30 and 7. So I gather my notepad and walk my way to Mr. Beresford’s office. Once I’m there, I knock, then crack the door.

“Mr. Beresford, your 3 o’clock rescheduled for a later appointment, so I put you down for 6.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I close the door as I go back to my office, and send the company the confirmation for 6. They respond swiftly saying that they will be here at 6. I mentally prepare myself for a long day after the normal work hours.

I wonder if Rachel has any tips on my note taking, so I decide to speed dial 5.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Rachel I was wondering if you have any tips on how to take notes for the meeting. I have been taking notes this past week but Mr. Beresford didn’t seem to need them. But because there is two meetings today, he might need them to recollect the specifics the different meetings.”

“Yeah of course.” She gives me the spill of how she used to take notes, but she says Mr. Beresford did not like the way she took notes, because she wrote it in her own understanding instead of his.

“Okay, because we have another meeting after the one that starts in 15 minutes. And it’s after 5 o’clock, so I definitely need to take notes to the best of my ability. Or his I guess.”

“Get used to that.” She says with a sigh.

“What taking notes? Or staying after 5?”

“Well, both actually.”

“I have to stay after 5, everyday with him?”

“Well, yes. Haven’t you been doing that so far?”

“No, I have been leaving around 5:30.”

“Y/n, no. The assistant stays with the boss until he tells you to leave.”

My father has had assistants but he never kept one long enough for me to see how they were supposed to behave.

“Oh no. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know, he probably thought you’d just know given your father has a business.”

“My father did everything on his own.” I say curtly. I hate discussing my family and their success, the reason why I left is to start my own. So when someone brings them up, I try to be tight lipped about them.

“Also, it wasn’t in the job description.”

“It’s not, but it’s commonly preferred.”

I think for a bit. I feel bad that I possibly left Mr. Beresford to do everything alone. I never suspected I was doing anything wrong. Every morning when I entered after giving Mr. Beresford his coffee and breakfast, notes he took from the previous night was sat on my desk.

I look over at the time and see it’s 5 till the meeting.

“Hey Rachel I have to go.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” She says before promptly hanging up.

I grab my notepad and get up to walk down to the conference room. When I get there I notice Mr. Beresford and a couple of our staff is already seated. I quickly take the seat on Mr. Beresford’s left. Once I sit, he looks up from his laptop and smile.

“Mr. Beresford.” I say greeting him.

“Ms. Y/l/n.”

I look around at everyone else engaging in their own conversations. I scoot a bit forward closer to Mr. Beresford.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was supposed to stay after with you everyday?”

“I supposed you knew. And if not you’d figure it out eventually. Plus I’ve been used to-“ he pauses and looks back down at his computer, “working alone.”

Just as I about to ask what he meant the company we are meeting with walked in. Mr. Beresford stood up, which caused me to follow suit. We all greeted each other by shaking hands.

Once everyone was aquatinted and seated, Mr. Beresford walks to the other end of the table with no chair.

“Shall we get started?”

_________________________

I tried to take notes most accurate to Mr. Beresford’s. Mimicking his note taking style from the one he leaves on my desk every night. Based on the meeting details, I could give him the notes at the end of the day so I have enough time to tweak it if I see something unfitting.

It’s now 30 minutes until the 6:00 meeting. We had lunch at 3 since the meeting was pushed back. Although, I like to work better with a snack so I decide to go downstairs to the donut shop to get a donut and a coffee. After I gathered my purse, I knocked on Mr. Beresford’s door.

“Mr. Beresford, I’m going downstairs to get a donut, do you want anything?”

He doesn’t respond. After a minute of waiting, I knock on his door again, then open the door and peek in.

“Mr. Beresford?”

He looks up at me from his computer with a stoic look.

“No thank you. I am not supposed to be eating that stuff.”

I notice he seems a bit down so I don’t push him on it.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I am back within 10 minutes. I finish my coffee before I make it back to my office. As I’m walking back I contemplate either going to my office or Mr. Beresford’s. I decide on Mr. Beresford’s office of course. I knock on the door once again. He doesn’t respond like normally but I decide to turn the knob anyway. As I come in the room uninvited, he looks at me confused.

With my donut in hand I decide to sit in a seat in front of him.

“Hi.” I say before taking a bite of my donut.

“Hi?” He says confused. He continues to look at me confused as of to say, why are you here.

“What?” I question his confused look.

He shakes his head. “Normally people don’t just come in my office and sit down. Just to say hi.”

“Well I’m not normal people. I’m your assistant so I can do that.” I say with a smile.

He smirks a bit before changing his face to serious.

“Look. I know I met you before the job interview. And I gave you a well deserved compliment based on your looks, but our relationship needs to be strictly professional.”

What he said caught me off guard. I wasn’t trying to come onto him. Even though he is insanely good looking. I just wanted to start a conversation given he was so busy this whole week.

“Oh.” I say as I nod and start to get up to leave.

“But-“ he says as he sees me get up. “You can stay. At least until the meeting starts. We can walk down together.”

“Okay.” I say with a small smile. I don’t want to say the wrong thing because I don’t want him to think I am trying to build a relationship that’s not professional.

“So, why don’t you eat donuts? Is it your diet?”

He once again looks down at his computer. I know he was down earlier but I thought he was okay now. Before I was able to apologize for prying he answers.

“Yeah, it’s my diet. I actually haven’t had a donut in 5 years.”

“Really?”

He nods and looks up at me from his computer. I give him a cunning smile and hold up my donut.

“You want a bite?”

“No, I’m okay.” He says chuckling.

“Come on. It’s a bite. What is a bite gonna do?”

He looks at me for a couple seconds before he lightly nods. He motions his fingers for me to bring the donut closer. I stand up to bring it close enough for him to take but instead he bites it straight off the donut. My heart skips a beat with his held eye contact on me. As he pulls away I have to mentally tell myself to act normal. I sit back down trying to shake that hot memory out of my head. I look up to him and he’s still chewing. I wait a couple seconds after he swallows it and I’m met with silence.

“Well?”

He starts smiling. Like a real smile, not a smirk.

“That was really good.”

“See I told you. You just have to trust your smart assistant sometimes.”

He smirks and huffs out a laugh. I check my watch and realize it’s seven till 6.

“Oh, we have to go.”

I stand up and he follows after me down the hall. It’s just us when we enter the conference room.

“Where is everybody?”

“Well the staff isn’t required to stay after 5, so we’re just waiting on the company that we’re meeting with.”

We continue to wait for exactly 7 minutes before Mr. Beresford stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“They’re late. I’m leaving.”

“Wha- leaving? Just like that?”

“Yes, just like that.”

As he moves to walk out the conference room door, the company walks in the door.

“Shall we get this over with?” The man who comes in first says, throwing his coat at the woman who came in after him.

Mr. Beresford looks back at me before turning to the man who spoke.

“Mr. Johnson, we are not going further with this merger.”

“Why not? I put in a lot of money for this deal.” The man named Mr. Johnson says.

“You can keep your deal, and you can keep your money. I’m all about creating jobs for people. I need my partners to be punctual as well as considerate. Because if not, I know you will treat your employees the same way. And so far from what I’ve seen,” he gestures to the woman behind him, “you are not very considerate to your employees.”

I don’t know why, but that whole scene made me have a heartbeat in my core. My mouth is agape. I have never seen anyone respectfully decline a disrespectful person regardless of their money.

“Come on, Ms. Y/l/n.”

I immediately jump up to stand beside him. He puts his hand on my back as he guides me out of the room.

“You can see yourself out.” He says as we past them out the door. Just before we leave, I give a sympathetic look to the woman.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, people like that really get under my skin.”

“Don’t apologize. You did the right thing.”

He looks down at his feet as we continue walking together.

“Could you… come back to my office with me. I like the company.” He asks seemingly nervously. I smile up at him before nodding.

“Sure let me just get the rest of my things.” We reach my office door and he goes inside of his. I gather my purse and previous notes. I stay in my office a bit longer than suspected, checking and responded to thank you emails on Mr. Beresford’s behalf. I’m finished about 10 minutes later and I start to walk to Mr. Beresford’s office. I knock on the door, and there wasn’t an answer like usual.

“Mr. Beresford, it’s me.” Still no answer.

I open the door expecting him to look up at me from his computer, but he wasn’t there. I know he didn’t walk out of his office because I would’ve saw given that my office is right next to his corner office.

“Mr. Beresford?” I ask looking around the office. I notice that his chair is a bit pushed back than normal. I walk over to his chair to see why and immediately my heart drops. He is passed out on the floor behind his desk.

“Oh, shit! Mr. Beresford!” I kneel down to feel his forehead I don’t feel it being warm. I fumble for my purse to grab my cell to call 911.

I tell dispatch what happened and what building and floor were on. They had an ambulance out here in minutes once they found out it was Clay Beresford. When the officers get here, I have Mr. Beresford’s head in my lap so it wouldn’t be on the hard ground. They remove him off of me and put him on a stretcher.

“Be careful with him. I don’t know what happened.” I say with a shaky voice.

One of the officers that is not carrying him turns to me.

“Ma’am, calm down. We know how to deal with a heart transplant patient.”

Once he says that I am stunned.

“A what?”

“4 years ago Clayton Beresford, had a heart transplant from his mother after the whole doctor team tried to murder him. It was on the news for weeks.” He looks at me like the information he gave me was so obvious and everyone else knew about it.

“Wha-“ I can’t even process what he just said. As his assistant why wasn’t I notified of his condition. 10 million questions run in my head but I realize as his assistant I should be with him also. I find the stamina to get up on my shaky legs and follow them to the elevator. Once we get outside I climb in the ambulance after they put Mr. Beresford in it. I stare at Mr. Beresford seemingly lifeless body, and it scares the shit out of me. I grab his hand and hope everything is okay.

Once we get to the hospital, he gets put on an IV. And i have to wait in the waiting room while they check to see what’s wrong with him. I rock in my chair nervously wondering what I’m going to do if he doesn’t make it out of this. He was just starting to become my friend even with him saying he wanted a strictly professional relationship. As I am thinking to myself as Beresford was called. I stood up and walked to the doctor.

“How is he?”

“Mr. Beresford is doing just fine.”

I let out a long relieved sigh.

“He had a small relapse due to his heart transplant.”

“Do you know what caused it?”

“We can’t be sure. With heart transplants, this could be caused by anything. Did he recently have any changes of diet, or exercise?”

I shake my head no, trying to think. Then suddenly it clicks.

“I gave him a bite of my donut. Do you think that what caused this?” I say devastated. I can’t bear a man’s life almost ending because of me.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a very real possibility. It’s the most probable possibility given that everything was fine until tonight.”

I look around and cover my mouth, knowing that I almost killed Mr. Beresford.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course but he’s resting right now. It might be a little while before he wakes up.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She puts her hand on my should in sympathy and walks me to his room. Once I go in I see him sleeping on the bed with 3 different tubes attached to him. I put my hand over my mouth as I sob looking at him. I did that. I walk over beside his bed and sit in the seat that was there. I grab his hand and wait for him to wake. As I wait, I dosed off to sleep still grabbing his hand.

__________________________

He starts stirring which wakes me up. I squeeze his hand tighter with purpose letting him know that I was here for him. He squeezed it back but his eyes are still closed.

“Mr. Beresford.” I whisper as I stand up to get closer to his face. He hums and opens his eyes. He looks around confused before his eyes land on me, shocked.

“What happened.” He says groggily.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shakes his head in confusion.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your heart?” I say before I full on sob right in front of my boss. “It was my fault, I’m so sorry.”

He looks at me confused still.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, take a breath.” He says and he grabs my other hand with his other hand. “What happened?”

“They say you had a relapse because of the donut I gave you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to eat it.”

“Hey. Y/n, I am an adult. You didn’t push me to do anything. I ate it because I wanted to.”

I am too hysterical to realize that was his first time calling me by my first name.

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

He looks into my red, puffy eyes then looks forward.

“I don’t have anyone.” He says softly.

I don’t know what he means by that but he’s gone through enough so I don’t push him on it. It seems like I’m the only one going to be here from him tonight. I start to sit on the bed next to him slowly waiting for any signs of his uncomfortably. He nodded for me to continue to sit, still having both of our hands holding. I look him in the eyes and my eyes start to water again.

He wipes my tears with his fingers.

“Stop it. It wasn’t your fault.” He says as he tugs my hands so I can go closer to him. He pulls me into a hug, which causes me to have to lay on his chest. I carefully avoid the tubes attached to him, not trying to mess him up further.

“I’m going to be okay.”

We stay like this in silence for a couple of minutes.

“I thought you wanted to keep a professional relationship.” I joke through a sad voice.

“Screw that.”

______________________________

That sure took a turn. 😬

[guavagyu]

you're mine, bunny - c.sb!

oh lord do i luv some sub!soobin <3

urgh this has literally been in my drafts since 12/22/22 (i promise ive just been powering thru it for the past few days)

this was unrequested! (still send requests pls 🙏)

wc: 2,220

synopsis: after discussing sex, you discover a new side of soobin, right before you go to a party, so you're riled up the entire night. plus, it seems that soobin can't keep his eyes off you, so when you both get home, stuff happens.

contents: smut (mdni), fluff, swearing, fem!reader, VERY posessive!reader, hardcore jealousy from reader, dom!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, sub!soobin, mentions of yeonjun (sorry jun ily!), nicknames (whore, bunny, bun, binnie), established!relationship au, non-idol!au, handjob, choking, nipple play, mirror sex, breeding kink, mommy kink, marking (m!receiving), corruption kink, slight overstimulation, brief fingering (f!receiving), tall!reader (abt same height as soob), brief cockwarming, cum eating, p in v sex, unprotected sex (this is a no!), aftercare (not rlly discussed, though), praise kink, degradation kink, lmk if there r more pls!!

"so, what has sex been for you in the past?" soobin bluntly asked out of nowhere. you two were literally just chilling on the couch watching tv,

"what do you mean?" you responded,

"like, i dunno, like..what stuff usually happened? what was involved?"

"uh, well, i usually dom i guess," you started,

"o-okay, what else?" he caught himself, his mind buzzing and heart doing flips when he heard you're a dom,

"uh, i don't really know. i can't think of anything off the top of my head, so, why don't we just start with you?" you tried to play it smooth, and it did. to be honest, you've been dying for this conversation for ages, so you wanted to learn as much as you can,

"o-oh, well um, i-i-" he stuttered, face flushing,

"soob, if you don't want to tell me it's okay, don't worry about it," you reassured him, not wanting to pressure him into doing anything he wasn’t comfortable with,

“n-no it’s ok it’s just..” soobin trailed off,

“do you want me to just give you a notepad and a pen and 10 minutes by yourself?” you chuckled, half serious,

“actually..yeah, could you do that?”

“oh? sure,” you smiled as you got up to gather the materials and headed back to soobin to hand it to him, “call me when you’re done,”

“okay, uh, maybe you should try to get ready, we gotta leave for that party in 20,”

oh shit. the party. fuck. why did soobin think this was a good topic to bring up RIGHT before a social event with your friends? you said "okay" before giving him a quick kiss and walking to your shared bedroom, sifting through your closet to look for an appropriate outfit,

"is there a theme i need to follow?" you called out,

"i don't think so. wear whatever you want," soobin responded, so whatever you want it was. after sifting for a minute or so and picking out some pieces, you finalized on a strapless black dress. you fixed your hair and decided to just leave it down for tonight, it wasn't a huge event. soon soobin walked in the room and saw you, blushing and swallowing nervously, shuffling over to the closet as well and came out in a black dress shirt and jeans, before heading to the bathroom as well and hug you from behind as you finished up, resting his head on your shoulder, "almost done?"

"yeah, just one more thing," before you grabbed a bottle of perfume, sniffed it, putting it back and choosing another one, making soobin even more nervous as you'd chosen his favorite. after a couple sprays, you kissed his cheek and said, "okay, let's go," letting him lead you to the car, before opening your door, then sitting in the driver's seat. for the whole ride, he tried to keep his focus off of how you looked, especially with your perfume filling the car. he almost gave up on heading to the party entirely when you put your hand on his thigh, while he consistently felt his pants growing tighter as time passed. he could feel himself breathe out a sigh of relief the moment you arrived, getting out of the car, and heading in. the place was bustling, the smell of booze and sweat filling your nostrils. soobin kept close to you the entire time, clearly uncomfortable with the environment you were both involuntarily dragged into. curse yeonjun. naturally, he just had to go all out for his birthday. whatever, not like you could just ditch him right now. what happened next was worse, though, as he got dragged away by yeonjun. you decided to just let him be and go get a drink. you soon got a glass of scotch on the rocks as he was soon surrounded by a bunch of extra friends..and women. women who weren't you. women who weren't you. women that were touching him, getting pretty handsy for a complete stranger. you were very well aware of how attractive he was, but you felt jealous, and very pissed at yeonjun for allowing this even though he was aware of your relationship. you felt your teeth grind at the sight of multiple women grabbing at him, feeling his chest and abdomen. his eyes were like a deer, wide and innocent, unknowing of what to do. his eyes filtered through the room, before finally meeting yours. he gulped when he saw your expression, dark and almost murderous. soobin tried to push them off, but the women were too drunk and simply wouldn't listen. the moment you snapped was when one of the girls tried to kiss him, but missing and hitting his chin. she was clearly the drunkest one, but it still infuriated you. your glass was slammed down on the table, almost breaking, as you steadily walked over to the place soobin was in. towering over the girls, they noticed your presence almost immediately, and all but the drunkest ran away,

"heyyy, what's your pro'lem? i'm jus' havin' a lil fun," she slurred, giving one of the ugliest smiles you've ever seen,

"yeah, my problem is that you're trying to have 'a lil fun' with my boyfriend, so back off or i'll fuck you up," you leaned down to her level, clearly something clicked in her head, sobering her up just a bit. she soon nodded frantically, gave a quick apology, and ran off with the rest of her group to talk about what had just happened,

"y/n i'm sorry they wouldn't leave-" he stood up, trying to explain, but you shushed him gently,

"hey, binnie it's okay, i saw everything, just stay close for the rest of the night please, i don't think i can take more people like that," you sighed, giving him a quick kiss on the nose. soobin nodded, and staying close was what he did. he also couldn't keep his eyes off you, maybe your display of jealousy did something. you always tried to keep it in check, as it had driven others away in the past, but thankfully, it seemed that soobin was actually inclined to stay because of your possessiveness. you thanked whatever god was out there for this, that you finally found someone who wasn't scared away due to your nature. seriously though, his eyes never wavered, only occasional small glances around at people were what gave him visual separation from you. fortunately, the party ended in an hour or so, with yeonjun coming up to you personally and apologizing for the incident, which you put aside your previous hard feelings and told him not to worry about it and there was a lot of things that had his attention and it just slipped past him. he thanked you and you soon left, just barely keeping under the speed limit the whole ride home, eager to get back as soon as possible so you could have soobin all to yourself. the moment the front door was closed, you threw your shoes off, let soobin take his off, and dragged him to your bedroom. you set him onto the bed, and took off his clothes while kissing his face and neck, "this okay?" you asked temporarily stopping,

"yes, mommy, please don't stop again," he gave you the green light, and you didn't take a second longer to return to your previous antics, finally stopping at his lips, making out with him for minutes on end. you took off your own clothes before straddling his lap,

"hey bunny, want me to go get that list you made earlier?" you asked, peppering kisses into his jaw,

"no, mommy, stay here, i can tell you," the sudden change on his attitude on sharing his preferences showed how desperate he was to have you stay with him, "uh..i like praise..and degradation..but praise more! i really like being marked too. maybe a little choking, i like mirrors too..i think that's it," soobin blushed, "is that okay?"

"yeah binnie, don't worry," you smiled at him, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, "c'mere then, if you like mirrors," you gently set him on the other side of the bed, where your full body mirror stood. he swallowed, anticipating at what was to come. you kneeled on the bed behind him, wrapping your arms around his chest, pulling him close, "look bun, this good for you?" you whispered in his ear, nibbling on the shell,

"yes mommy, thank you," he leaned back to pull you into a kiss, which you happily reciprocated, his hand on your cheek, trying to get you closer than you already were, then you reached down and pulled on his nipple, making him jerk and lean into you, moaning in the process. then you snaked your arms down towards his dick, which was standing up, with a slight curve, tip red, angry, and leaking with precum, the liquid dribbling down towards his thighs. you decided to help relieve him and you took his dick in your hand, slowly pumping up and down as you put your other hand around his neck, clasping down, making him moan again

"look, bunny. look at yourself and how i make you fall apart," you let the sinful words fall out of your mouth with the sweetest tone, as his face turned to watch you pump his dick in your hand, as well as your hand tight around his throat. he could feel his mind getting fuzzier at the lack of blood and oxygen, but it only made everything else so much more sensitive. his swollen, pink lips parted as he let out strings of whines as he felt his orgasm approach. knowing this, you picked up the pace, squeezing just a bit harder as you softly bit and left hickeys all over his neck, shoulders, and back, "aren't you just a pretty whore, hm? only wanting me to please you like a pillow princess, you don't want to do any work do you? just wanna watch yourself cum? well, you're mine, bunny. your my pillow princess, and your my pretty whore, got it? nobody else can have you but me," you growled in his ear as you rubbed his tip, him finally cumming all over his legs and your hand. you held your hand up to his mouth and he licked it clean, whimpering as you continued to slowly pump his dick, shuddering as the sensitivity was overcome by pleasure. after stopping so you could switch positions, you were now in front of him, "think you got a little more in you, bunny?" you asked, tucking some stray hairs behind his ear,

"yes, mommy. can i be inside you please? i really really wanna feel you," he grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, which you nodded and you slowly sank down on him, back to his chest, as you wanted to watch yourself in the mirror alongside him. he groaned as he bottomed out, arms wrapping around you and tugging you close. after letting him get used to you, you lifted yourself up before sinking back down, his dick twitching at how tight and warm you were. soon, he took it on his own to maintain the pace, and started off by simply rolling his hips into you, making you moan as he continuously hit your g-spot. however, he still needed more, starting to relentlessly pound into you, digging his head into your neck as he tried to muffle his moans into you, before you catching him and saying,

"hey binnie, don't do that, lemme hear my little whore's moans mk? you're doing so good, making me feel amazing bun," you said, which he nodded to, feeling his dick twitch again at the name. now, he didn't hold back, letting all of his pretty noises into the world, as well as right into your ear. soobin's moans only brought you closer to the edge, which was getting nearer as he never stopped ramming into your g-spot, making you finally cum as you grabbed one of his hands that were wrapped around you, squeezing tightly as your walls clamped down on him, making him whine as he cummed into you. after he rode out his high, along with you, he slowly pulled out, but suddenly replaced his dick with his pretty fingers, trying to keep his cum in you. you got the hint, even though he didn't tell you in the beginning that he liked breeding you. then, he led you to the bathroom to clean you both up,

"hey, y/n? y'know, i really liked how you..um..back there.." soobin suddenly got flustered, making you laugh at his behavior, kissing his nose,

"sorry if it was a little much," which he rapidly shook his head no, saying how he found it super hot and honestly wouldn't care if you had fucked him right there. once you started aimlessly chatting about random topics (as well as tonight's events), you finally cleaned up and settled down in your bed, him on top of your chest, nuzzling into the crook of your neck,

"g'night bunny, i love you," you kissed his damp hair, still not fully dry from the shower you just took, as he gave a quiet "i love you too" before you both drifted off to sleep.

---

© guavagyu 2023. all rights reserved. plagiarization, reposting, translating, and/or rewriting ANY and ALL of my works is prohibited.

[starlightingsss]

sparks fly / 2

wildest dreams. 3

kinda hating how i wrote the relationship between haymitch and reader ☹️

u guys i js realized but when im typing on mobile my capitalization is inconsistent n some paragraphs have capitalize first lettters and some dont 😭 sorry

129. she had waved and blown kisses at 129 people so far, making eye contact and reaching her hand into theirs. everything had gone by so fast, she was holding onto haymitch as they got off the train, holding onto his arm.

the crowds had gone wild once they saw, haymitch himself slightly opposed to the public display but unable to shake the woman off his arm.

she loved it, loved having everyones eyes on her. loved the attention, loved the fame. it took forever to get to the stylist cars - much to haymitch and her district partner's annoyance.

haymitch had been careful to make sure not to show any favoritism to the girl, made sure he didn't get attached. he wanted her to survive, and he didn't want to break the poor girls spirit, but still - he didn't think she could live, tributes don't usually care for beauty and it wouldn't get her allies. she would have to prove she was smart, or strong, or anything that might be considered valuable in the arena.

as she and her district partner boarded separate cars, he went onto his own car - one for mentors.

in that car, she was with 4 people. one woman with gold braided into her hair, contrasting against her dark skin, with bright pink makeup and a bright blue dress - weird contrasts but still stunning on her and her skintone. this was her stylist, allium everstar. she had seen the woman on tv many times, as she was always assigned to district 12. the other 3 looked quite bizarre, a woman with fairy wings instead of ears, a man wearing a crop top and ankle length dress with dyed body hair and purple skin, and another woman whos hair was insanely long; split into 2 pigtails wrapping around her ankles, her skin was paper white and she seemed to be drawn in black and white, except for the gigantic golden necklace wrapped around her neck.

she heard them whispering among themselves, "this one is different ... unique! look at those eyes!", the man excitedly squealed to his team members.

she heard other fragments of conversation, little "she looks so different from them.. she could be a capitol girl!", "can't wait to see her all styled up..", "she would be gorgeous if she was pink!"

she looked out the window, still seeing people lined at the streets and waving at her, until they turned into a parking garage.

they all exited the car with peacekeepers joining them and leading them down the elevator.

she was getting sent even more deeper underground - into a room where there were bright white lights.

the team had led her into an odd bathroom, settling her into a bathtub. they stripped her of her clothing, leaving her bare in the cold air of the room.

the head stylist, allium took in her figure, looking at her up and down. she wrote something down onto a little notepad before leaving the room.

she was settled into the tub by the other 3, still unsure of their names.

the women scrubbed her body as the man prepared what seemed to be dye? was he gonna make her purple like him...

"oh dear god! rhuba! abernathy said not to mess with her hair!" exclaimed the woman, in all black.

"we're not cutting it, we'll just make her a little bit blonde .. i'm thinking a split dye, it'll be absolutely stunning on her!" the man named rhuba exclaimed, "don't always have to be so closeminded, volta.."

"we're gonna get in trouble!" the woman with fairy wings instead of ears snapped, "he specifically told us not to touch her hair!"

"i-its fine? i don't mind if you dye it like that .. just d-dont cut it!" y/n said, interrupting their little argument.

"oh dear .. your mentor is gonna kill us." sighed rhuba. "plus people probably wont like it like that, its not popular in the capital at all!"

"she said we could do it!" the man practically squealed, "how exciting! most tributes are so against us dying their hair!"

the two women just tsked, as they rinsed her of the soap and dried her off, they wrapped her in a towel and led her over to a metal bed.

"dear i'm just gonna wax you .. not sure i'm gonna need to though, bare as a baby.." said rhuba, "well! at least we have a tribute who actually takes care of herself this year, not sure why i'd expect less from someone who looks like her.."

"her nails seem ok too ... some color wouldn't hurt tho!" said the little elf looking woman, with the fairy wings instead of ears. she was buffing down her nails, just evening them out a little bit because otherwise she didn't need anything done.

"alright, so its just the hair!" the man said, as he moved himself to be able to access the womans hair.

"alright .. come over here.." he told her, leading her over to a chair. she had nothing but a robe on, and her body had already been examined and picked at her prep team. "it'll be done in just a second! only takes a few seconds to bleach your hair .. can't believe it used to take forever before!", he smiled as he coated half her head in the thick liquid, "...hey how about we add some tinsel extensions?"

"extensions?" she said, a little confused on why she would need the,.

"not just any extensions, hon! tinsel ones, they're like little reflective strips, it'll be totally gorgeous under the spotlight and we can have them match your makeup to it in the parade!" he laughed this, as he pulled out the extensions anyway. he rolled her chair over to the sink as he leaned her head back, washing out the bleach - leaving her with a head of half blonde and half black hair, it suited her but her hairstyle in general suited her beautifully.

he pulled out some weird hairdryer thing that fit over her whole head, and instantly dried out her hair.

once her hair was dried, he started adding the tinsel into her hair.

after about an hour, it was done. she had little holographic streaks coming out of her scalp and honestly, it was gorgeous.

"my makeup.." she asked, "who's gonna do my makeup?"

"oh dear that'll be allium! she's really good at it .. i'm sure she'll do you well!" he said, as he spun her to face him. looking her in the eyes, examining her hair and face .. "really gorgeous.."

"thank you.. and my clothes are decided by allium too right?" she said, a little bit worried.

"yep! she basically does everything except hair, waxing and nails, but she still had control over what we do with you .. now she might be a little mad about your hair.." he laughed again, as he pinched a lock of it. "but i'm sure it'll work well with however she dresses you!" , he gave her a reassuring smile.

she smiled back, as he sent her off to allium, peacekeepers greeting her as she walked out of the room and escorting her to the elevator. they went up 16 floors, up to the 2nd floor. the peacekeepers dragged her up to a door with her name on it, "y/n l/n" and then her stylist's name under it.

she walked into the room, it was like a dressing room - the vanity illuminating the clutter of makeup products on it, a rhinestone bodysuit on a mannequin. it was beautiful but it didn't cover much, the neckline of the suit high and up to the throat but it was sleeveless, and had a heart cut out over her chest area that would show cleavage and little red rhinestones around that heart making it seem like it was a bleeding heart. the sides were cut out, showing even more skin, the cut-outs were all lined with lace, and there was a little very sheer cape and "skirt" meant to cover her a little, the cape wouldve gone as far as her wrists, and the skirt didnt even reach 1/4 of her thigh, barely covering anything.

"oh you saw it .. was gonna make it a suprise for you! didn't expect you to be done so fast.." allium gushes, as she came out from a back room. "the bodysuit is one of a kind, and you're going to need to be stitched into it - it's held together by pins right now but its fine, the jewels are all little pieces of obsidian, the red stuff is rubies, theres also some absolutely gorgeous shoes to go with them! this isn't what i had planned at the beginning but then when i saw you at the reaping ... oh god you were stunning! wasn't sure how i would be ok with myself if i covered you with coal, we're still gonna go for that kind of makeup look though, smudgy eyeliner, freckles and a blood red lip! it'll be stunning on you .. your hair... jesus he butchered it! but no worries, it matches up.. we'll just use a lot of highlighter to make you look like a diamond!"

"you know .. back in the day some people actually used coal as liner i think! we could try that but im not sure how it'd look .. better not to risk it. now i need your help to pick what shoes and jewelry we'll have for you! nothing on the neck of course, its already covered by the suit but we need some bracelets, earrings and maybe an anklet?" she seemed insanely excited as she just kept talking, "we'll cover you in diamonds .. you've got to love that! come come!", she continues gushing as she gestured the girl over to a table where jewelry was displayed.

"i was just stunned by you ... these are all real, and all very expensive. i think this one and this one are the best," she pointed at 2 bracelets, but not bracelets, more like something to go on the upper area of your arm with diamonds spilling down to your wrist. more like a makeshift sleeve?

"those are really nice! could i have a ring? the heart shaped diamond one!" y/n asked, her voice a little squeaky from excitement - she loved all things beauty, makeup, skincare, clothing.

"of course! was thinking about giving you pearls but then i remember that 12 was a mining district, not sure how you'd get pearls there!" she smiled, happy that her tribute was sharing her admiration for clothing and all things beauty.

"now! shoes, you pick .. i think you'd stun in something that'll make you taller and goes up higher on the thigh..!" she pulled the girls arm, taking her to the shoe collection ..".. how about these! you better pick quick .. we only have 2 hours left and i'm not sure that'll be long enough for you to get your hair styled and your makeup done.."

"those are really nice!" she smiled, as she looked at the thigh high boots with pointed tips and red bottoms, covered in black velvet - luxurious.

"alright alright! now we'll have your makeup done, then ill style your hair a little, and then you can get dressed and meet up with your mentor and district partner for the tribute parade!" she said this, her voice getting louder as she clapped her hands and a squad of people came out. seating herself into the chair in front of the mirror, they wet her hair, and started her makeup.

it took around an hour for makeup, excessive makeup that would only look good from a distance. stage makeup, and it was gorgeous.

the smudged out eyeliner drawn out to give a "kohl" look to the girls eyes, the dark red lips lined with even darker lip liner and sharp corners - making her lips seem curled in a smile, her eyes standing out. her eyes were captivating, her entire look was sultry, dominating and seductive at the time - all things that she wasn't. and that would've worked out for her, in the interviews and everything. a woman forced to appear strong in her parade, a woman with a sharp eye and luscious lips, a sultry and seductive woman. a maneater, something that she wasn't and she knew how to work across it, "oh god my stylist just did that to me .. i swear i'm not actually like that!" and little smiles, kisses and looks that would melt anyone. the innocence that wasn't yet stained, something she would have to work to show off, she wasn't what she was dressed to be and it felt like a costume to her. but still, she wore the costume well and just for the night.

as her stylist re-entered the room, she practically squealed when she saw the girl.

"oh dear! this is exactly how i imagined everything .. you stun me!" she managed out, as she examined her face.

"thank you.. i feel really pretty right now!" y/n proclaimed, unsure what exactly she should say.

"honey! you are really pretty!" she laughed, "well now it's time to give you back to your mentor and stuff.."

"he's probably gonna have a stroke when he sees me like this." the girl jokes back, haymitch was probably going to look like hes having a stroke when he first sees her, his jaw dropping a little and eyes widening in shock as he would took in the figure - a figure she wasn't used to "rocking" like this.

as she was lost in her thoughts, allium was pulling her around and eventually into the elevator.

"im so excited!" she squealed, this was her first year after all - and she got to style one of the more gorgeous women she had ever seen..!

the girl still lost in her own thoughts just had a dreamy smile on her face, imagining what haymitch might think of her.

as she entered the room, there was exactly 26 minutes until the tribute parade.

"someone finally decided to show up.." her district partner grumbled this while scowling, haymitch was reclined back into the luxurious sofa with a drink in his hand. he had cleaned up quite a bit, he was wearing a suit. he looked amazing and the girl was definitely staring.

"jesus theyre gonna have a field day with you." he slurred a little, he was drunk. he sat up, looking at her with his full attention. he took in the bodysuit, it hugged her curves well, showing a lot of skin, his eyes lingered where they shouldn't have for a while as he looked her up and down - slightly shocked by what she was wearing.

she just laughed at his words, blushing a little because honestly, she wanted to be on the couch snuggled up into him. she wasn't sure why but she was always quite drawn to the man, he was attractive , rough and a little messy - but still, he had a nice face and a nice body (for an alcoholic at least).

she sat down next to him, still not very comfortable as her stylist followed and sat down next to her district partner, his stylist standing behind haymitch.

"alright so .. you two need to try and get along.. just for the parade." haymitch said, a little grumpy. "but if you don't want to do that because the idea of being nice to each other disgusts you that much, then make it as obvious as possible .. you" he said, pointing at basil, "you need to figure out how to market yourself, make yourself look good and make them like you. and you, ehh sweetheart, you seem to have this whole 'make everyone fall in love with me' thing under your belt."

this led to a smile from her, as she nodded. her district partner seemed less than pleased, asking "why do we even have to make them like us anyway? shes not even that likeable.."

"you have to make them like you so you can get sponsors, sponsors are the difference between life and death in the arena- if you're starving, then a sponsors gift of food might saved your life .. and knowing you, you'll probably be starving if you survive that long. and, she" he said this, gesturing to you, "she is likeable because she is pretty, people are going to look at her before hearing what she says and they're gonna decide if they wanna keep her alive or not, she is desireable in terms of looks and looks can get you everywhere when it comes to sponsors."

"they're gonna hate her after they figure out what her personalities like.." he scowled as he thought about her, the simple thought causing his troll-like features to contort in displeasure. haymitch let out a sigh, seeing how those 2 couldn't get along.

the woman seemed offended at his words, and as she was about to say something not very kind about her partner, the intercom interrupted her.

"Tributes, the parade is taking place in exactly 10 minutes! Make sure you head to your chariots now." a shrill voice said from the speakers.

The group of them got up as they headed over to the chariots, she wasn't present for when they all rewatched the reapinga so she hadn't seen any of the tributes before.

The girl and guy from one were both beautiful, with the boy reminding her a little of cupid. They were covered in gold, matching their shiny blonde hair.

The pair from two were a little more average looking, with a younger girl and older guy, the girl looked as if she had been crying - not something expected from a career district.

From 3, they were both tall and slim, nothing extraordinary.

The pair from 4, with a boy that was obviously a kid - he couldn't have been older than 14.

She kept watching the other tributes, and she noticed how the girl from one would occasionally reach for the boys hand, holding it and smiling at the comparison. How she would look up at him with loving eyes, a look of longing and regret that was only visible to the trained eye. She noticed how the boy from 2 would comfort the girl from 2, patting her head sometimes. She saw how the girl from 4 was always looking back at the girl from 5, she noticed how the boy from 4 would scan the crowds with anxiety in his eyes. How the girl from 5 was also always looking at the girl from 4, love in their eyes for each other. She noticed how horrible the pairing for the career districts were - a pair of lovers, 2 kids, a woman entangled in a queer love affair that was bigger than she was, and the only actual "career" looking tribute was the boy, but still - he would comfort the girl from two. if anything, all the careers from one and two would group together, and the boy from 4 but the boy from 4 would be the one they left out a little more, the disposable one. The girl from 4 would probably ally with the one from 5, running away from the cornucopia to live out their dying moments in the arms of their love.

The pair from 10 seemed strong, 10 was the livestock district - butchers. They knew their way with a knife, and they probably knew how to kill. They would make powerful allies, the only reason they lacked victors was because of their lack of sponsors, they were a district that was greatly overlooked in the games.

She looked at the hands of each tribute, paying particular attention to those of 4 and 8, the districts where knots were useful, 4 using fishing knots and 8 being the one of textiles and fabrics. The pair from 8 almost definitely knew their way when it came to knitting / tying / sewing, the boy was 4 had callused hands - probably from fishing. She knew that those 4 people were to be looked out for as they would know how to manage and craft traps. The girl from 4 wouldn't be a problem unless she found her lover, she would be easy to pick off during her love crazed and very desperate search for her girlfriend. And the girl from 5, would be even easier once the girl from 4 was gone..

She was quickly snapped out of her thoughts when Haymitch snapped his fingers in her face, "sweetheart, parades gonna start in a minute or so."

"sorry , was js thinking about something" she apologized, not trying to upset the man. she climbed into the chariot, as she waved a goodbye to the group.

She stood in the chariot, Haymitch's words stuck to her, or not his words but more his tone. He always seemed a little irritated with her, unless she was serving him liquor, he didn't really acknowledge her other than that. He didn't go over plans or advice with her, he just asked her to refill his drinks. She felt like the was dumbing her down, but he wasn't like this before the games. When she first met him, he was sweet. He was drunk but he saved her, and was still kind with her. She didn't understand the reason for his overall dismissal of her, always talking to basil about actual stuff instead of her.

The chariots started as Snow finished his speech, she wasn't sure she had it in her to smile and wave like she did before but she did anyway. The capital seemed to love her, screaming her name. She was showered with roses as they threw them over the stands, she caught one and smelled it, lifting it into the air and blowing a kiss in the direction it came from, even louder cheering emerged from the stands. She kept a smile on her face for most of the parade, but honestly - she was glad it was over.

She met back up with her district partner, mentor, and their escort.

"So! How did we do?" she said, as she smiled, excited.

"Crowd went absolutely insane when you did what you did with the rose! You're a natural in the spotlight!" her escort gushes, a smile on her face as she admired the girl. "Oh and your outfit! It was stunning ... I'm not sure how anyone could keep their hands off you!"

The tribute smiled at her, still a little upset with the idea of the games.

Once they got back to the building where they were going to spend the night, her prep team made quick work of her outfit - giving her her old clothes back and leaving her to remove her makeup by herself.

She went up the elevator, following the instructions of Allium, to go up to the 14th floor because that's where she was staying.

She walked in and saw Haymitch and her district partner, both by the coffee table and obviously discussing plans about the games.

They both looked up at her when she walked in.

"What are you guys doing?" She said, walking closer to them, her voice pleasant.

"Just discussing strategies for the games," Haymitch said, "..could join us if you'd like."

"She'd probably prefer to go play with her makeup or try on dresses.." sneered Basil, he knew she took an interest to those things and he mocked her for it. Haymitch honestly wasn't much better about it though, just sighing and ignoring Basil's words as he continues to discuss the plans.

She was a little hurt, but just said "maybe later, havw to go take a shower right now.", as she put on a smile and walked away to her room.

She didn't have much trouble finding her room, as they were all labeled. It was a beautiful room, decked out in pink and gold, unsure if they made special arrangements just for her, she walked into the bathroom.

As she explored, she found a cleansing balm and a whipped cleanser, which she used to remove her makeup. After that, she found a hair mask, and some scissors. So naturally, she decided to cut her hair. She was unsure if it was because of her newly dyed hair color or because she was unhappy with how the dya went, but it didn't matter because she picked up the scissors and snipped off a chunk. As she realized what she had doen, and how it was a very big and noticeable chunk, she gave up and kept cutting. Eventually she ended up with a medium length haircut, that cut off at her breasts, opposing to where he hair used to be - at her hips, that admittedly did fit her newly dyed hair pretty well, as did it frame her face. She brushed out any of the hair she cut out and applied the hair mask, putting on a shower cap and laying on her bed. She found what she thought was a tv remote and turned on the tv, she didn't find many shows or movies - the media allowed in Panem was mostly government broadcasts and talk shows. She ended up not watching tv and instead decided to paint her nails and take a quick nap.

She slept peacefully for almost 30 minutes, as her hair mask marinated. Once she realized it had been 30 minutes, she removed the shower cap and slipped into the shower. Scrubbing at her body as she relinquished all the bad thoughts and feelings of the day, erasing the dirt and sweat that stained her pretty body. She decided to take her time, she would exfoliate and shave and everything, made sure to be perfect by the end of it. As she rinsed off her soapy body, she reached for the body scrub, applying a lather of the sandy feeling liquid to her legs. She scrubbed for a little, exfoliating her legs as she picked up the razor, coating her legs in shaving foam, she glided the razor down, removing any hair that might've grown since the last time she did this. She repeated this process on her whole body, as she rinsed herself off and felt truly clean.

She exited the shower, engulfing herself into a soft robe, she felt truly at peace with herself at the moment. She looked through the contents of the skincare drawer in the room, finding sufficient products. She grabbed a piece of ice from the mini fridge in her room, rubbing it over her face, once she finished with that, she decided on a skin tightening toner and some rose water, which she applied to her face and neck. Afterwards, she layered a moisturizer over it, before finally adding some snail mucin to lock in moisture - a weird ingredient but common capitol beauty trend.

She patted her face as she applied a hydrating eyecream, before grabbing a hairdryer and drying her hair. Once she was sufficiently happy with how damp it was, she applied some hair oil, then grabbed a gua shua and ran it along her face. Once she finished with that, she picked up the hair dryer once again, this time fully drying out her hair. She grabbed a lash serum, applying some onto her eyelashes, and picking up a pair of tweezers, as she plucked her eyebrows into the perfect shape. The woman was high maintenance, she wasn't going to lie, but she loved it. Her little beauty rituals made her happy, made her beautiful.

As her hair was dried and she was happy with how she looked, she went into the closet they provided for her, and she picked out a pair of pajamas.

She had grabbed a satin babydoll top, lined with lace, and a pair of lacy underpants, that she put satin shorts of the same color over.

She ran her hands through her hair, adding a little bit of volume before exiting her own room, to join Haymitch and her district partner at the table.

They were still at the table but this time, Basil seemed to be yelling at Haymitch for something, with Haymitch being a little too drunk to care.

She made her way closer to them before hearing what Basil was so upset about, "you're literally a drunk why would i take advice from you" and other things, she didn't really plan on interfering except for maybe glaring at Basil a little more often, thst was until he grabbed Haymitch's drink and splashed it into his face.

The woman slammed a quick punch into Basil's face, letting out a "what the hell are you doing?"

"are you really gonna defend him, huh? hes a drunk! hes literally sending kids into an arena ever year judt for them to die!" basil said, delirious and mad.

"everyone has their problems and everyone has their way to cope for it. don't blame him for something out of his control." she hissed, as she bent over Haymitch, to help him wipe some of the alcohol off of him.

"he can control it but he just keeps ln fucking drinking - i don't even know how you can try to defend him ! he's gonna be the reason we die soon!" basil snapped, still upset.

"alcohol is not addictive," she said, wiping haymitch's jaw, "but alcohol is numbing, alcohol makes people forget. alcohol lets people escape the pain of their modern lives, it takes a while for it to develop into an addiction but getting addicted to alcohol is not something someone does for fun, alcoholics are people who have something to forget, something to hide from, something that is hurting them just to remember. alcohol is an easy way out that still lets them live, still lets them function. i promise you , just because he's an alcoholic doesnt mean he doesnt care, and it doesnt mean he doesnt fucking try." the tone of her voice was sharp, unpleasant and spearing at the moment, something abnormal for her, "if he didn't care and he didn't want to try, if he didn't have some hope for us, us as in the tributes, he would be fucking dead. sending kids into a death arena is something no one could enjoy, but if he didn't have a little bit of hope - that one of us could win, he wouldnt be here today. he was a kid too when he went into his arena, he survived and it scarred him, what he did scarred him and snows punishments scarred him. he's not a bad man for wanting to escape the horrors of his past, and hes not a bad man for being drunk while hes supposed to be helping us because at least hes still here and at least hes still trying. so you need to shut the fuck up and realize that everyone has their own problems and to stop bitching at every minor inconvenience." her tone indicated the end of a conversation, as basil walked over to his room, unable to argue with the woman, the sympathetic woman who always seemed to look into a situation more than she had to.

she leaned back down to haymitch who was watching her with sharp eyes now, questioning eyes, her little outburst wasn't something he expected. the little observations she made, the little assumptions, and how she had seen through his facade things that shocked him. he realized she looked at him with wide eyes and sympathy because she figured he was trying, still trying his best after the dozens of kids he watched die.

and at that moment he knew, he knew what she was. a people watcher, a sympathizer, a woman who knew how to wear everyone else's shoes, a woman who took nothing to heart because she trusted that whoever was delivering it had something going on for them, someone who could see through everything and still never tried to hurt them with the information she had gathered as she observed them.

she rested into his arms and caressed his jawline, her own attempt to comfort the man. she was sweet and beautiful, insanely likeable, and insanely marketable.