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ofsappho · 1 year

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Heartless

🔞 Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, smut in the next chapter (and the chapters after).

Reader is disabled/chronically ill (and so is the author)

You need health insurance. Ghost is sick of sharing living quarters with the rest of the 141. Soap, your childhood friend, thinks the two of you can fix each other’s problems.

Or, Ghost and you have to convince his command that you didn’t just meet each other and your marriage is totally, completely, 100% legit. Not for any, more practical reasons. And, of course, your married-couple accommodations only have one bed.

Chapter 1:

This will either be the stupidest decision you’ve ever made or the greatest stroke of brilliance you’ve ever had. And there is no in-between.

When Soap ducks his head into the coffee shop, you’re more than a little relieved to see him in one piece, plus or minus a few silvery scars scattered across his face and peeking out of his sleeves, the collar of his jacket.

And the dumbass aviators you bought him as a high school graduation present hang from the dip of his shirt. You know Soap thinks he looks badass, but the placement reminds you more of ‘Patagonia dad who likes hiking’ than it does ‘mysterious hardened special forces dude.’

He’s so built that he has to carefully pick his way between crowded tables, just so he doesn’t knock over someone’s drink or trip into a random stranger’s elbow.

You more or less tackle him into the biggest hug you can. “Soap! You’re not dead!” Ever since he joined his super-duper-top-secret whatever the fuck, you’ve gotten used to the communication dead zones in your years-long friendship. The silence never stops worrying you, though.

Johnny chuckles and practically lifts you off your feet. “Neither are you! Congratulations!” You know he’s relieved to see you as well by the way he ruffles your hair.

You fucking hate it when he does that, which is, of course, why it’s become a tradition every time you see him.

He pisses you off, you piss him off. “Twinning!”

The glare he tosses your way has all the menace of a kitten attacking a curtain. “Fuck does that mean? You know I can’t keep up with your American slang.” You’re a good friend who pre-ordered his ridiculous caramel latte with extra caramel, and Soap sits happily in front of it.

He learned that he enjoyed heart-stoppingly sweet drinks on accident - a case of mistaken identity where you unintentionally grabbed Soap’s macho Americano, and he drank half of your caramel latte in revenge. And here you are, years later, watching him slurp down a milk foam heart.

“Awww, too much for the brain cells you have left?” Teasing him as easy as breathing and a welcome distraction for the anxiety attack-inducing question you must ask.

The general coffee shop ambient noise swells in your ears. An espresso machine malfunctions, almost loud enough to make you jump, and you try to disguise it by sipping your iced tea. No caffeine; you’re nervous enough without it.

“I could have you arrested for that,” Soap quips. Please. As if you’d let him try. One call to his commanding officer about his pre-service shenanigans, and you’d have his ass court-martialed.

“Abuse of the power of the Armed Forces? Very ethical.” You raise an eyebrow and lace your voice with haughtiness, even flicking some hair over your shoulder.

Then you need to pass Johnny a few napkins to mop up the latte dripping from his nose out of laughter. “I’m glad to see you,” He tells you, and the sober, knowing look in his eyes makes your stomach drop out. He doesn’t miss a thing. He’d probably be dead or fired from his job if he did. “Though I know this isn’t a social call.”

Well. You’re in for it now. “Yeah, unfortunately, it isn’t.” The words taste like dust in your mouth, and the lemony-black tea barely washes it out. Just to give yourself something to do, you pop the plastic lid off and tip a couple of ice cubes into your mouth before chomping down.

“What’s going on?”

How do you summarize the horrifically, brutally stressful whirlwind of the last few weeks without inspiring the annoying, patronizing pity you’ve gotten from literally everyone else you’ve vented to? You’re not a victim to be coddled or a child to be given advice you’ve already thought of, tried, and failed at.

“I’m losing my health insurance at the end of the month” is what you decide on in the end.

He knows exactly what that means for you. For your future. Soap shakes his head ruefully. “God, I’m so sorry.”

You’ve been sick for a while, diagnosed the year after the two of you graduated high school. The kind of sick that is simply a freak accident of nature, causing your body to attack itself over and over until the day you’ll drop dead from complications. It wouldn’t take much; maybe a regular infection burning you alive with a fever your crippled immune system can’t stop, or a benign cut from a kitchen knife that will bleed and bleed until you’re halfway to the coroner’s office.

And then there’s your shitty, damaged, degenerated spine that keeps you in bed for weeks at a time with crippling, numbing pain.

Without health insurance, things won’t look good for your quality of life. And you like your quality of life to be decent. You’d settle for passable.

Really, it sounds worse than it is, and you try to console him. “It’s okay. It was eventually going to happen. I had hoped to have a little more time, though.” You remember the call from the insurance company like it just happened yesterday. You were loading dishes into the dishwasher and listening to Fleetwood Mac on the radio. And some poor customer service representative told you they were increasing your monthly payments beyond what they knew you could afford, so they’d have to drop you.

You watch him open his mouth as if to tell you that you should’ve said something sooner. But he’s been deployed for the past four months. He pauses and resets to something a little more helpful. “How can I help?” That’s something you have liked about Johnny a lot since you were kids. He cares more about what he can do.

Your anxiety permits your lungs to take one big, fortifying inhale. “Well…” Dragging it out will only make this worse, you know, but you really, really, really hate that it’s come to this. “This is fucking embarrassing.” You tried to find a way to pay the premiums; you really did. But you work forty hours a week already and trying to get more shifts, maybe find a new job, do this, do that, appeal, all of that has been futile and draining. “Will you marry me?”

He drops his half-empty cup on the table, forceful enough that some of the coffee spills out. “What?”

Soap’s partially-scandalized shock is not what you hoped for as a reaction. But you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything better.

The worst part of this conversation is over. It can’t get more nerve-wracking. “Marry me. Like. Get legally married. I could get on military benefits, and my meds would be covered.” He doesn’t swing your way, but surely signing some paper and standing before a judge is, like, not the most terrifying thing Soap has ever done. “And- and I know there’s stuff in it for you, too, like a better apartment or whatever. I can cook. Better than you, that’s for sure.” One of your friends had to teach him how not to burn water.

He just sits there in silence. “Please,” You add on softly. Desperately. This is your last-ditch attempt, your Hail Mary.

At last, Soap’s shoulders slump, and you know, from that alone, that he’s gonna say no. Miracles are rarely performed for ordinary people. “I would if I could, but… I’m sort of already married,” He sighs, then winces, waiting for your inevitable unhappy outburst.

…

You blink a few times, brain furiously recalibrating everything you know. John got married, and he didn’t even invite you? Or tell you? You’re supposed to be his friend. That’s so rude, ouch. You would have even gotten him some expensive shit off his gift registry.

A fucking Keurig, for God’s sake. “What? Who?” You demand, more outraged that he would leave you out of his life than you are over him declining your proposal

Underneath that deep, sunburnt tan, you see Soap blush. “Jeremy from final year.”

You’d throw your empty cup at him, but he’d just duck. “I knew you were fucking him! I knew it! You tried to gaslight me and say you weren’t, but I saw the hickies on his neck!” There were only so many times Johnny ducked out of a math classroom covered in sweat, followed shortly by your classmate, before you put the pieces together.

Oh, but the rest of your friends called you a conspiracy theorist and told you to mind your business. Now, who’s laughing?

Soap holds his hands up in the universal ‘don’t shoot’ sign. “He needed health insurance. We’re married on paper. Haven’t seen him in a few years, but I know he’s doing alright.” Naturally, he’s already selflessly committed marriage fraud. You honestly should’ve seen that coming; that’s why you wanted to propose in the first place and figured you’d have a slim chance of success.

“Shit.” Now you’re back to square one. And it’s a shitty square, with walls that close in around you with every passing second.

The regret in his eyes overflows when he sees your slumped shoulders, how you’re picking at your cuticles hard enough to bleed. “‘M sorry. If I wasn’t locked down, you know that I’d do it for you in a heartbeat.” The worst part is that you know he’s being sincere, not just parroting empty platitudes.

Right. Well. That’s it, then.

You rub at your closed eyes, then at the stress wrinkle between your eyebrows. “Fuck. It’s fine, I know. I will… I’ll figure it out,” You sigh. Less than convincing, but it doesn’t need to be.

There are probably options you just haven’t thought of yet. Or maybe you can work something out with your doctor, where you only get your meds every other month. “I got it covered. Don’t worry about me.” You instantly see Soap rush to shake his head, to tell you that he’s always worried about you. You want to chastise him, tell him that he has plenty of things to be worried about in his own life. “Shush. It’s fine.” But you don’t have the heart to rake him over the coals for it now, so you settle for that.

You should go. You have things to do, things that include crying in your bed with the curtains drawn and urgently refreshing your email to see if anyone's gotten back to you. New jobs, aid organizations for low-income people, any further bad news.

Soap catches your wrist before you can say the appropriate goodbyes and rush out of the cafe. “Look- hold on- let me… let me ask my… friends.” He wrinkles his nose as he says it with an odd, stilted tone. Like ‘friends’ is a replacement for something he can’t say out loud in a civilian setting.

You can put the pieces together. “Is that what you’re calling your coworkers?”

“That’s classified, shut up.” His Scottish accent pops out there stronger than good malt whiskey. Hope is an easily-caught flame and far more difficult to extinguish. When you smile at him, you find it’s not entirely false. “Let me ask around, okay? They’re good guys. You might need to do the heavy lifting with your sparkling personality, but I can try.”

‘Sparkling personality’ is sort of ominous. ‘Don’t give them shit,’ is what he means to say. That’s fine, you’ve worked in customer service before. You can be on your best behavior.

You’re not exactly sure what kind of dude would be willing to marry a stranger, even if that is the kind of dude you want to marry.

But desperate times, desperate measures. “Thank you. Really. It would mean the world and… would probably save my life.” You didn’t mean to get as choked up at the end as you do. No one else has been willing to help you, though, and Soap’s answering hug feels like desperately needed hope reviving itself in your chest.

“I’ve got you. And I hope I can help in the end, even if it’s not what you originally had in mind.”

Soap runs through his team members in his mind as he waits for the gate guard to scan his ID, trying to recall who’s tied down and who isn’t.

Captain’s got a wife, he thinks, and he’s a wee bit too old for you anyway.

It takes a second for the starry-eyed guard to hand him back the card and lift the gate.

You picked a good time to call him up; not only is he in town, menacing the local army base, but so is the rest of the 141—a rarity.

Vargas would certainly charm you, but Soap trusts Alejandro with you about as far as he could throw him.

Out of all the idiots he went to school with, you’re the only idiot who stuck around through the early years of his service, and you pursued your friendship like a hound after a fox even when he couldn’t properly reciprocate.

So John feels some responsibility for looking out for you, as you’ve always looked out for him.

Garrick wouldn’t be a half-bad choice. Dependable, responsible. Friendly, so your sham marriage would at least be enjoyable.

His mind drifts to his own errant mostly-platonic husband as he parks the borrowed car in his numbered space. Jeremy. The last time they spoke was over three years ago? Maybe four. Jeremy had found himself a new boyfriend and called to let him know, asking if Soap wanted a legal divorce. He was moving to some godforsaken corner of America. Florida? Maybe. That place has got too many fuckin’ states for him to remember them all.

They worked it out - they’d stay married, and Jeremy would keep out of his way. No love lost.

Roach could do it for you in a pinch as well. A little quiet, but maybe you’d work out something like him and Jeremy. Staying out of each other’s way.

Soap dismisses Lieutenant Riley without a second thought. On his best day, Ghost is about as inviting and amenable as a particularly hungry great white shark. And even if God himself came down from Heaven and changed Ghost’s heart to be interested, Soap would worry about you.

A lot. Even more than he already does, since the day you sobbed in his arms after school when you were first diagnosed. Since that day he had to help you out of bed because you could neither walk nor miss any more class.

Does he trust Ghost enough to fight alongside him? To have his back when there’s a gun against his head? Absolutely. Does he think Ghost would treat one of his oldest friends properly, befitting of the funny, kind, vibrant person you are? Abso-fuckin’-lutely not.

So that puts Gaz and Roach in his top choices for you and Vargas as a last-tier resort.

Armed forces worldwide, in Scotland and America, are all about efficiency. Eliminating redundancy.

And if that’s the excuse Johnny uses to justify blindsiding his whole team at once, so he doesn’t need to have this conversation three damn times and hear three separate rejections? That’s between him and God.

He herds them like sheep, plucking the Captain from his office, Garrick and Alejandro from conditioning in the gym, disturbing Roach’s book. Ghost appears out of nowhere as if summoned by the disturbance and falls in behind Soap. Not a single damn sound, of course. While that’s useful on deployment, he still has to tamp down on the instinct to jump every time he sees a skull mask hovering out of the corner of his eye in everyday life.

No matter. The lieutenant will likely wander out when the subject matter is revealed. It would raise more red flags if he told Ghost off.

He barely gets Lt. Riley through the pool room door before Captain jumps him. “Sergeant. What’s the trouble?”

That’s fuckin’ rude. “Why’d you assume I’m in trouble?” He indignantly replies. Except… yeah, there was that time he borrowed a humvee he had no permission to touch, and Captain covered for him to Laswell. Shit. “Well, I’m not.” At least, not this time.

Soap opens his mouth to argue this because it’s hardly fair for Cpt. Price to point fingers only to be cut off. “What is it?” At least Price has the decency to file the sharp edges off of his voice this time.

Right. He almost feels guilty getting sidetracked over something so stupid when he’s gathered everyone here for an infinitely more important reason.

Where does he start? How the fuck does he proposition them without sounding absolutely mental? “I… Hear me out.” Instantly, Garrick shakes his head ‘no,’ and Cpt.’s face remains as unmoved as a brick wall. Definitely not how he should have opened. “Wouldn’t be asking if the situation wasn’t desperate.” Soap opens his hands in the vain hope that the gesture will make them listen, at minimum.

You loathed hospitals and doctor’s offices when you first got sick. Now, you see the inside of them so often that it hardly fazes you. Still, Johnny always went along when you asked. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.

The countless memories of holding your hand as some faceless nurse sticks an IV in your elbow is the motivation that steps on the gas. “I have this friend,’ He tells them.

“You have friends?” If Vargas weren’t separated from him by the pool table, he’d reach over and stick an elbow in his side. What is it, official ‘piss off Sgt. MacTavish’ day?

They get in a laugh at his expense. “Shut up, you reprobate.” He puts enough bite in his tone to cut through the ruckus with the keenness of a knife. “I have this friend. Since I was a lad. She’s a good girl, good person. She needs our help.”

Everyone knows what he means by ‘good person,’ and the mere mention of a civilian girl in distress softens Gaz’s scowl and Alejandro’s scorn.

Their Captain nods, now significantly more amenable to this conversation than he was at the beginning. “Help?” Progress is progress, and for the first time, Soap allows himself to think he might be able to persuade someone.

“Yeah, well… you know these fuckin’ Americans. They don’t give a damn if people die like dogs in the streets. She lost her health insurance, and she’s… She’s ill. She’ll be ill for the rest of her life.” That’s something Johnny will never understand about this side of the pond. The NHS was never good, but at least it exists. All that freedom and shit, for what?

“Sorry to hear that. Fucking shame,” Price murmurs.

“I was wondering if any of you might be interested in marrying her. For the fuckin’... benefits. I dunno know what exactly they are, but she mentioned new living quarters for her soldier.” He really ought to have looked this up beforehand and found some other things to sweeten the pot. “I’m already married. Had to turn the poor lass down, and I told her I’d at least ask you lot.”

Their captain gets up and off his ass like the stool’s on fire. “Alright. MacTavish, I’m leaving the room now. I’m going back to my office, and do not disturb me until you’re done,” He orders, mustache practically fuckin’ bristling with urgency. “I didn’t hear or see a thing.” With his parting words finished, Johnny watches the man book it out of the pool room in double time.

While he understands and appreciates the discretion, was that truly necessary? They’ve all done exponentially worse things than this.

His first choice makes a break for it, too. “Sorry, Soap,” Garrick declines. “I’m out. I’m sure she’s a delightful person, though being friends with you doesn’t speak highly of her life choices. But that’s a big ask, and I just don’t know her.” The sergeant taps him on the shoulder as he walks out in a silent show of support.

“‘Course.” With each man who leaves, his worry increases.

What voicemails will await him after he returns from the next mission? That things went horribly wrong, and you’ll be hospitalized for the rest of your life, or maybe even dead?

Whatever it is, there won’t be anything he can do by then. That’s the worst part.

“Yeah, can’t do it either, Sarge. I got a girl already.” Right. There goes Sanderson.

At least Alejandro has the decency to look genuinely sympathetic. “Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”

Soap watches him leave and wonders if you’re still awake. It’s not late for him, but who knows? Maybe you keep normal hours now. “Yeah, I will.” You’d prefer to hear the bad news as soon as possible, but he would hate to wake you for it.

But he can’t ignore the ghoul haunting the corner any longer. “What are you still doing here, Lt.? I’ve gotta tell her I can’t help, and I don’t think you’d care to overhear that conversation.” His voice is a little sharper than is nice and proper, overflowing with prickly irritation like too much tea in a cracked cup. Of all the times for Ghost to not mind his fucking business…

“…what she look like?”

“What?”

And Riley’s got the audacity to repeat himself, slower, as if he’s stupid. “What does she look like? Got a picture?”

“Is this a joke?” Simon should stick to shitty quips about goldfish. At least those are tasteful.

The man doesn’t laugh, shake his head, or leave now that he’s successfully rattled Soap. He just stands there, as grave as always. Motherfucker. He means it. “Fuckin’… yeah, hold on,” Soap sighs as he fumbles for his phone.

He’s desperate because you’re desperate. He tells himself that, over and over, as he looks for a half-decent selfie. You’re a big girl, you knew what you were risking when you asked him for help.

Ghost takes his phone in his gloved hand. “Not bad,” He murmurs after a while. “I’ll do it. Marry her.”

A beat passes. Soap lets another one go.

Alright. The grace period is over and done with. “This is a really shitty, serious thing to mess around about. Genuinely. Don’t do that to her or me. This is about her health. Her life.” Johnny likes Lt. Riley. Really, he does. Even under all the freaky mask shit.

But this is mean-spirited. It would almost be out of character. It’s one thing to be careless if his sparring partner walks away with permanent nerve damage. This is fucking cruel if he doesn’t mean it.

Ghost can read minds now. “I mean it.” His chuckle makes Johnny fix his surprised expression into something more stern and imperceptible. “She’s desperate, isn’t she? I’ll do it.” When he walks closer, the changing light makes that skull on his face flash in and out of existence.

“Why?” If he can’t come up with a somewhat satisfactory answer… Soap’s fist can probably reach him fine from here.

And in a rather remarkable show of humanity, he watches Ghost pinch the bridge of his nose through his mask. “Think I like listening to you snore? Or fuckin’ Roach chattering on Discord at four in the morning?” Johnny never knew Ghost was such a little princess about that. Who would’ve thought?

The other man huffs a laugh. “Need my beauty sleep.”

“Yeah, you do, the mask’s not doin’ you any favors,” Soap retorts as if on autopilot. That’s only their longest-running tiff. You’ve got your work cut out for you to deal with that ugly mug, he thinks.

“You want me to help her or what?”

Right. Right. “Sorry.” He examines Ghost’s body language, searching for any hint of dishonesty. “If you so badly want out of the shared bunks, how come you haven’t found someone else yet? Or some other way?”

“You think girls are lining up outside my door proposing marriage? You can’t even find me off duty. Now I ain’t gotta find… some other way,” He says before leaning back against the wall, at ease now that his argument’s been made.

“Fair point.” Fair, but fucking dumb. “I’ll tell her. She’ll say yes, I know she will.” Jesus, does he wish he’d been able to persuade Garrick.

Soap considers exactly how much you should know about your intended before this shit goes down. On the one hand, it might be better for you not to know much, other than that he’s found someone relatively trustworthy and willing. On the other hand… interacting with Lt. Riley is something that should only be done after signing a covenant not to sue.

“Whatever you do, don’t hurt her. She’s been through enough already. And I meant it when I said she’s a good person. Too good for either of us.”

Nobody gets through secondary school untouched. Especially not at that prissy international school you met him at, filled with over-privileged rich kids and army brats scraping the bottom of the barrel. Like the two of you.

When you were fourteen, you picked him up by the scruff of his Scottish neck with a smile on your face, then hit the bastard who hit him first. Thick as thieves ever since.

“And if you can’t find it in you to be nice, just… promise you’ll leave her alone.” At least you’re more than capable of making Ghost’s life a living Hell if he fucks with you. He takes comfort in that and a healthy amount of glee at the possibility of watching that play out. He’s got a front-row seat, after all.

Riley shakes his head. “As long as she ain’t a burden, MacTavish, no need to fuss and cluck.”

For a moment, Soap almost pities him.

“Don’t hurt her. Promise me that, right now,” He stresses. Just in case. At least eliciting this agreement might remind Ghost in the future to stay his hand.

The other man sighs. “I won’t,” He says at last. And Soap can tell he means it.

“Get out. I’ll let her know.”

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scalingsvt8thusiast · 2 months

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Skin-Deep Chapter 14

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: Final chapter of my super duper long series :D I hope you all enjoy!

“Vernon, I don’t know why your shoes don’t match your pants.” You hissed at your brother as the two of you were lead into the ballroom by one of Minghao’s attendants.

“Well, if you had just helped me pick, like I asked,” Vernon hissed back, “we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“It’s not my fault all your shoes are ugly, bro.” You argued quietly. Annoying your brother was so much fun, it helped take your mind off he-who-shall-not-be-named.

“Ah, the ever bickering Chwe twins.” Wen Junhui said, strolling up to the two of you.

“Jun! I didn’t know you were back!” You said, pulling away from Vernon to give Junhui a hug.

“China was such a bore,” Junhui rolled his eyes, “My dad made me sit through 50 business meetings in a day.”

“This is why we don’t attend meetings.” Vernon said, rubbing his nose while shaking his head.

“My dad’s insistent on me attending, he wants me to take over the company soon.” Junhui said solemnly.

Junhui’s parents were the largest distributers of cement in all of China, or maybe Asia. You weren’t sure. You and your brother had met him via Minghao on a trip to China with your parents. The four of you tore up China’s nightlife in your high school days. You smiled at the memory.

“Minghao sure is popular.” Vernon marvelled at the amount of people in the room.

“Well, when your father’s a top politician…” Junhui trailed off, spotting Minghao making his way over. “There he is now! The birthday boy.”

Minghao’s father was a top politician in Haicheng. His family also had some business in the tea making industry. His wealth rivalled that of Junhui’s. Despite that, Minghao and Junhui were amongst the humblest people you knew.

Minghao had a wide grin on his face as he hugged Junhui, exchanging greetings. He then turned to you and Vernon.

“Y/n! Vernon! I haven’t seen you two in years!” Minghao cried, giving you and your brother a bone-breaking hug.

“Happy birthday!” You said, once Minghao had released the two of you.

“Happy birthday.” Vernon echoed, as he held out two boxes for the birthday boy.

“You didn’t have to!” Minghao said, immediately grabbing the boxes. You had always gifted him the best birthday presents, Minghao planned to disappear in the next 5 minutes to rip open your present.

“Just between you and me,” You whispered, pulling Minghao closer to you, “Vernon gave you socks.”

“I did not give you socks.” Vernon deadpanned, knowing his sister was out to mess with him tonight.

The three of you burst out in laughter at your brother’s annoyed face.

“Oh, I want you guys to meet my friends!” Minghao said, dragging Jun by the arm as you and Vernon followed.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice shouted said.

“Hoshi?!” You resounded, watching as the boy ran up to you. Almost knocking you over with a hug.

“I missed you so much!” Real tears falling from Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Oh my god Hosh, please don’t cry.” An embarrassed grin on your face as you patted the bawling man on the back.

“No one wants to go with me to that tiger cafe,” Hoshi said in between tears, “Do you know how hard that was for me?”

You chuckled, realising how much you missed your dramatic friend. When he finally released you, you were greeted by the other boys.

“Hi! I’m Jihoon.” He began with an outstretched hand. “You probably don’t remember me-,”

“Of course I remember you! We met at the producer showcase!” You smiled, giving him a hug. “I’m a very big fan of Woozi.”

Jihoon ears turned a deep shade of red at the mention of his pseudonym.

He went back to standing next to Soonyoung who was still sniffling, whispering to the taller man, “I knew I always liked her.”

You introduced all of them to your brother but you couldn’t ignore the nagging question you had at the back of your mind.

“Did Seungcheol come as well?”

Seungcheol had locked himself in a cubicle in the toilet.

Yes, he knows he was being extremely immature.

When Minghao had pointed you out to him, he couldn’t handle seeing you in the arms of another man. Before he knew it, he was making a beeline for the bathroom. Not caring as he apparently bulldozed some prince of Monaco on his journey.

He could stay in here the whole night. Right?

He knew you didn’t like to stay at parties for long periods, so if he just sat out here for two, no, maybe three hours? He would be safe to leave.

Yes, sit here. Ignoring his growling stomach and dwindling amount of orange juice.

“Cheol, I know you’re in here.” He could hear Jeonghan’s singsong voice from outside the cubicle.

“Go away!” He sang back. He could literally feel himself sweating. Why oh why did he wear a tie today?

“Cheol,” A knock came on the cubicle door. “You can’t avoid her forever.”

Seungcheol sighed, opening the door, facing his annoying friend.

Jeonghan gave him a wide grin, sort of resembling the Joker.

“You knew!” Seungcheol’s eyebrows shooting up with realisation. “You knew she’d be here! And you didn’t tell me!”

Jeonghan shrugged, he was pretty proud of himself right now. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have come.”

“Han, I look like an idiot.” Seungcheol said, gesturing to himself.

Jeonghan tilted his head in agreement. “Well, if you keep hiding in the bathroom like this…”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” Seungcheol groaned, face palming.

“Your girl’s out there, Cheol. Talk to her!” Jeonghan said.

“I don’t know what to say!” Seungcheol cried, throwing his hands up and effectively his orange juice everywhere. He had planned on speaking to you, he just needed to plan on what he would actually say.

Jeonghan side stepped, dodging the splash zone, “Gee, I don’t know, maybe start with apology? Or an explanation?”

“Would she even want to speak to me?” Seungcheol’s shoulders fell at the thought. “She came with another guy.”

“Her brother?” Jeonghan’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Why are you worried about her brother?”

“That’s her brother?” Seungcheol said, his posture improving with relief.

“What the fuck? Bro how little do you know about her?” Jeonghan questioned in disbelief, his friend was truly an idiot.

“I mean, I know about her brother.” Seungcheol asserted, as if he didn’t just mistake your brother for someone else. “I just have no idea what he looks like.”

“Right.” Jeonghan said, not convinced at all.

“Not the point!” Seungcheol spluttered, “How am I going to talk to her?”

“Look, just walk up to her and apologise, start begging, on your knees preferably.” Jeonghan said as he read the text message he’d just received from Joshua.

“You might want to hurry up, Mingyu just walked through the door and there’s only so much Hoshi can do to distract him before he beats your ass.”

Seungcheol stepped out from the bathroom wearily, he spotted Mingyu being forced by Soonyoung to watch videos of baby tigers. Soonyoung would later argue that his folder full of tiger videos came into handy at a time of Seungcheol’s grave need.

Seungcheol met Soonyoung’s eyes, the younger man frantically turning his head to the direction where you were standing. You still hadn’t noticed Seungcheol, caught up in your conversation with Minghao about the wonders of meditation.

Seungcheol approached you and Minghao. Minghao noticed him first, nodding at him when he saw him coming.

Minghao had already been brought up to speed by Seokmin. Sure, he hadn’t seen the two of you together before but if he knew one thing, it was couples. And he thought that you and Seungcheol would make the cutest couple. So he immediately offered his assistance.

“Oh, it seems like Shuhua just got here! I need to go welcome her! Will you be ok?” Minghao said, pretending to spot the bubbly girl at the front door.

“Oh, no worries, go ahead! I’ll be here!” You said, shooing your friend away.

Once Minghao stalked off, you pulled out your phone, texting your brother to join you.

“Y/n.”

You froze mid-text. You knew that voice. That voice you were so in love with.

You bit your lip and willed yourself to turn around.

“Seungcheol.” You said, coming face to face with the cause of all your pain.

Seungcheol felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. After being deprived of you for months, he was finally close enough to appreciate your beauty. His eyes traced every single one of your features, hoping to memorise them at risk of this being the last interaction he could ever have with you. His saw the way your eyes shone under the light, reflecting the colours of the room, holding his entire universe in them. He marvelled at your luscious lips, the way you parted them when you were surprised. He stood in awe of how amazing you looked in your gown, all black lace on beautiful skin.

He blinked, once, twice, pulling himself out of his you-induced trance.

“I-,”

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” You interrupted, not wanting nosy strangers to eavesdrop into your.

You lead him up a flight of stairs and into an empty hallway. Finally you found what you were looking for, a moonlit balcony overlooking a lake. Away from the crowd.

The two of you stood at arm’s length apart, his eyes gazing into yours.

“Y/n,” Seungcheol breath out, appreciating the divine view of you leaning so casually against the stone railings, your skin seemed to be glowing under the soft beams of the moon.

“Seungcheol?” You questioned when he didn’t say anything else.

Your eyes searched his face, hoping to see any signs of regret.

His eyes were tired as if he hadn’t been sleeping for days. His skin almost transparent because of how pale he was.

Not being able to stop yourself, you brought a hand to his cheek. A look of concern on your face.

Seungcheol felt himself melt into your palm. His eyes fluttering shut, a lone tear escaping. He was so starved for your touch. Even a small brush from you would have had him reeling.

“Cheol?” You encouraged, swiping away the tear with your thumb.

He opened his eyes only to be met by your gorgeous smile.

“I’m sorry.” His voice broke, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I should have talked to you, I should have talked to you right after that stupid dinner.” He placed a hand on yours, afraid to lose contact with you. “I am so sorry for how my parents behaved, for how I behaved.”

“I’m sorry for not speaking to you for so long,” he paused, gathering himself, “I’m so sorry I’m only apologising now.”

He gently guided your hand off his cheek, encapsulating your hand with his. He was so gentle with you, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

“Cheol, oh my god, get up!” You were horrified as you watched him get on one knee.

Your lover stubbornly stayed in his position despite your incessant pleas.

“Please, if there’s anything I can do to show you how sorry I am.” Seungcheol begged, “I’ll do anything to even have a sliver of a chance to be yours again.”

There was nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes. He was willing to be stripped bare, showing you his rawest emotions, hoping that you would at least consider forgiving him.

“Cheol, you are so dramatic.” You rolled your eyes at your stupid boyfriend. You used all your strength to pull him up and towards you, wrapping your arms around him.

“I forgive you.” You sighed with content, finally in the comfort of his arms.

“I was never mad at you.” You explained, bringing your head away from his chest to meet his shocked eyes. “I was just upset that you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, his arms tightened around you. “I promise, for as long as I live, I will never put you through that ever again.”

You gave him a soft smile, bringing your hands up to cup his face.

“Apology accepted. Now be a good boyfriend and kiss your girlfriend.”

Seungcheol smiled appreciatively, his eyes never losing the unending adoration he had for you. He brought his lips to brush against yours, asking for permission. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing your lips against his, sealing the kiss.

Seungcheol swore, he could never get over the feeling of your kisses. The sensation of your lips on his made him feel like putty. He felt like a depraved man, drinking you up as if you were the only source of water in the world, quenching his thirst.

He gently lift you up and sat you on the railing, holding you in place so you wouldn’t fall off. He continued to deepen the kiss, ignoring the multitudes of fireworks going on in the background. You moaned in pure content. It was truly a scene straight out of a romance novel.

When you finally broke the kiss, needing to breath. Seungcheol was blessed with the sight of your face, decorated by colours from the fireworks.

“We should head back down.” You whispered. Your boyfriend not listening, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Cheol, everybody will be looking for us.” You whined in between kisses.

“They’ll understand.” Seungcheol was unrelenting. “They know how much I love you.”

a/n2: they did not end up communicating, as you can tell. but they will, if I write the epilogue and that's a very big IF

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jimblejamblewritings · 5 months

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the fake date plot | part 6.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

James came down with the rest of the marauders to find you had already fixed a big plate of breakfast for him. He gave you a peck on the cheek as he took off his quidditch jumper before sitting down.

“Thanks, bug.”

“Why do you call me that?” you asked, taking a bite of your English muffin.

“Do you not like it? I can call you something else.”

“No, I like it. I was just wondering why.”

James shrugged. “Never thought about it… You’re cute and little, some bugs are cute and little. Yep, makes sense.”

“I’m not little.”

“You’re littler than me. It counts.”

“You’re freakishly tall.”

“Remus is freakishly tall.”

“So are you.” You popped a fried potato chunk in your mouth.

“Just accept it, bug.”

You went back to your breakfast, deciding his answer and little argument was satisfactory enough for you. James nudged you with his shoulder, beginning a mini battle between the two of you until he finally conceded. It was still a learning process for the two of you, trying to figure out how to play up your fake dating. Your friends were definitely suspicious and while Lily seemed to move a bit closer, Xeno didn’t even glance your way.

You were worried that maybe you and James were switching places in regards to the objects of your affection. You felt something squeeze your thigh ever so slightly and looked over to see James was seemingly in conversation with Peter. He must’ve caught you staring too long at the Ravenclaw table and a certain someone.

Shaking your head, you went back to eating. That’s right. You were with James and you two needed to be sickeningly in love. Besides, Lily was coming around so maybe Xeno was just distracted right now. You opened up your journal to jot down a few notes. A looming presence hung over your right shoulder.

“Yes, Jamie?” you asked without looking up.

“I’m just looking at your calendar.” He pointed to a blank Wednesday. “Quill in a study date, right when classes end.”

“Study? James Potter, when have you ever studied anything that wasn’t Charms and Defense?”

“Well, do you really need to study wand lore or broom craft? And does memorizing a whole script count as studying?”

“It does when you’re in a drama club. And if I can’t become an actress then I need to feed myself so I’m learning to make quidditch equipment. You idiots break at least two brooms every week each, not to mention the other stuff. I’ll never have to worry about money.”

“You’re learning about quidditch?”

You finally looked up, recognizing the shift in James’ tone from when you two were acting for your friends versus being genuine. Giving your fake boyfriend a smile, you stole some food off his plate.

“It’s not because you like it. It’s because you, especially, are rich and will buy my brooms and convince all your teammates to buy my brooms.”

He laughed so loud it made students at the other houses’ tables, including Xeno, look over. James squished your cheeks and gave you a peck.

“I should have known you were only with me for my money. Well, I hate to inform you, love, I’ve just squandered the family fortune on flying carpets.”

You rolled your eyes. “How do you have a cute comeback for everything?”

“You think it’s cute?”

You stood up from the table. “You are the cutest, Jamie. The most adorable scrumdiddlyumptious squishy-wishy super-duper boyfriend in the whole world.”

“I sense I’m being teased.”

“I would never tease you, Jamie bo-baimey taimey waimey rai—”

“Ha ha, very funny. Now you deserve the punishment jumper.”

“Punishment jumper? What am I, five years old?” Your words were muffled by a red jumper covering your face before your head popped out the other side. You looked down. “You just wanted me to wear your jumper.”

James blushed and you wanted to laugh. Natural blush wasn’t easy with fake dating but the two of you figured out a relatively uncomfortable trick if the two of you weren’t on the same page. You were allowed to picture Xeno whenever you wanted and James was allowed to picture Lily. He was totally imagining her in his jumper— it probably helped that you and Lily were the same height and body type so the jumper fit exactly like it would on her.

Your fake boyfriend scratched the back of his head. “Some of the team was talking about how they like seeing their partner in their jumpers and I wanted to know what that was like.”

“And?”

“Don’t know yet, it just looks like I dropped it on you.”

“That’s cause you did drop it on me. Wait, let me fix it.”

You pulled out the collar and untucked your shirt so the tails were sticking out. The sweater almost covered your skirt entirely since it was already oversized on James that you weren’t sure if you’d get a violation or not but you didn’t try to adjust it. You gave a little twirl.

“Tada.”

“You look great.”

Leaning over James, who covered your skirt with his hands to make sure nothing showed, you collected your stuff. “I’ll see you later, okay? Marls, are you coming with me to Herbology or still eating?”

Marlene tried to recover from getting caught staring, mouth open, at you and James. She shook her head no and you made your way out of the Great Hall to head to Herbology. James left only five minutes after you in order to give your friends space to gossip in peace.

The two of you were counting on Sirius and Mary to get louder by the minute until it garnered everyone’s attention. You were sure it worked when Alice came into the greenhouse practically squealing at you. You and James were the hottest topic in school. All you could do was roll your eyes and keep taking notes as Alice started planning your entire future together. You turned to look at your friend. James wouldn’t hate you for telling one person. You both had planned to tell your closest friends when the time was right and you couldn’t take keeping a secret anymore.

“Hey, Alice. Me and Jam—”

The door to the greenhouse swung open but it was Professor Sprout that came in. It was James standing in the threshold.

“Your birthday is this weekend,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger.

“Yes, James.”

“Bug, you didn’t say what you wanted for your birthday.”

“I’m okay.”

“What?” His eyebrows crinkled together. “You don’t want anything?”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Birthdays are a completely big deal.”

“Well… I just don’t want anybody spending too much on me this year. My parents and I are saving up for university… if there is a university.”

It was an unspoken thing that no student might make it to university when the war was ramping up. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters got bigger, a draft was likely to happen. And unlike muggles, men and women were drafted in the wizarding world since all the fighting was done with magic and didn’t require any strength outside of mental. James shook his head.

“That’s an even better reason to give you something. It won’t be large, I promise.”

“Small things can still be very expensive.”

“Honestly, I’ve never looked at a price tag in my life.”

You sighed. “You and Sirius live totally different lives from the rest of us, I wish I had rich parents… Okay, I concede. If it isn’t big then it can be whatever you want.”

“Good. I have to go now before Slughorn loses his mind that I’m not there or worse pairs me up with Snape as a punishment.”

(part 7...)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub @amandachrystinallc @lupinsbookshelf @harrysgoldenwatermelon @loving-and-dreaming @that-simp-sin @bubybubsters @peachesgaeass @jellyfishlioncrab @cenkisabibl

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter fic #marauders fic #marauders imagines #marauders fluff #marauders era #harry potter fic

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eiwasuli · 9 months

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𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

-ˋˏ widowed!jake sully & not widowed!jake ˎˊ

• my chrysanthemum

| chapter 01 ; chapter 02 ; chapter 03 ; chapter 04 ; chapter 05 ; chapter 06 ; chapter 07 ; chapter 08 ; epilogue — by @mystar-girl57

• folklore — by @stargirlrchive (i’ve read it over and over and over again)

• ocean eyes (sadly this series has stop and i do really enjoy it)

• forever: parted — by @neteyamyawne

• shallow end | part 01 ; part 02 — by @ronwestbreeze (not widow jake)

• thick skull — by ronwestbreeze

• again ; part 02 — by @jakegasm

• no name — by @fluloa

-ˋˏ neteyam sully ˎˊ

• chosen by eywa — by @randxmthxughts

• “The way I feel about you, is the how you feel about her.” ; “I don't want somebody having what we had” — by @thecapybara526 (i love this fic very much)

• “Don’t be a skxawng, just ask her.” — by @katherines-imagines

• ralnga’ — by @dilfs-bitch

• peace — by @carpecaelo

• the deets — by @loaksky

• i trust you — by @loaksbitch

• just neteyam — by @lanasblood

• how do i make you love me

• mate of convenience — by @mcverse

-ˋˏ ao’nung ˎˊ

• that one’s mine — by @tonowarii

• heartfelt — by @nyctophicbtch

• young love | part 01 ; part 02 — by @yawntutsyip (super duper cute!!)

• i’ve neglected you far too long — by @anemonelovesfiction

• refuge — by @nelissecrectplace

-ˋˏ lo’ak sully ˎˊ

• high infidelity — by @ianales (i LOVE this, omg the ansty in this is a 🤌 and need a pt2 of this 😩)

-ˋˏ tsu'tey ˎˊ

• unrequited — by randxmthxughts

ʬʬ please if anyone have more widow!jake sully, can you please tag me to it, cause i love angsty. or any angsty avatar just tag me to it!! thank you very much!

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grimoireofhayley · 7 months

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Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

Word Count: 1.6k

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Taglist: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07 @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada @kenma-izhu @cookielovesbook-akie @elevenpurple @hyunlix-world @mavix @halleest

A/n: Oh-my-god, I am so sorry for the major delay! Trust me, I was in the middle of writing the chapter the same day I said I would post it, but being a mom is super-duper busy and they will always come first and I completely forgot to post the chapter, but here it is FINALLY.. My twins are now 3 so they’re acting like teenagers, but toddler form; super bossy, extremely demanding, always and I MEAN always keeping me on my feet. Plus, I had to re-write it as I didn’t like how the first attempt at chapter 14 sounded 😮‍💨 Anyways, I barely have time to write, but when I can, I hope you all enjoy it. I hope this chapter is up to your liking! More chapters are still on the way, A LOT MORE. Keep in mind, the Billy scene in previous chapters and this scene is my first time writing smut/smut related things… 😓😓😓 Lastly, Thank You ALL so much for getting me to 405 followers! I’m in disbelief 🫢💜

All Chapter Links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 14

Gulping, you shakily took the phone off the counter, hanging it up and unplugged it from the wall, making sure no calls would come through anymore that night for her sake.

Looking over, you saw Sidney gripping at her brown hair, pulling it in every direction, her jaw clenched, yet, her teeth chattering; she wanted to scream, shout and cry, but couldn’t. Her pale features now a rouge from both exhaustion and terror. Her sanity seemed to slip away bit-by-bit each time Ghostface would call; preying on her, taunting her, humiliating her.

“What, what!?” Dewey came running from his room, waving a gun around in his white t-shirt and blue and white striped boxers.

Tatum tsk-ed at her brother’s tardiness, pushing passed him to follow Sidney.

You rubbed the nape of your neck, placing your other hand on Dewey’s shoulder, “Next time.. maybe be a little quicker.” You laughed, half-heartedly, trying to make light of the situation, seeing how confused Dewey seemed to be.

“(Y/n) (L/n) and Sidney Prescott who were both…”

Before the news reporter finished his sentence, Dewey shut the tv off, pulling a chair out from the kitchen table, sitting down.

“Billy was released.”

Your ears perked at the sound, relief washing over.

Sidney’s eyes lit up, but she still clearly had her doubts.

“His cellular bill was clean. He didn’t make those calls..” Dewey stated, grabbing a carton of milk before pouring some of it into his coffee. “We’re checkin’ every cellular account in the county.” Dewey finished, taking a long gulp of his un-sweetened drink before continuing. “(Y/n), Sidney..” He eyed both of you, “Any calls made to you two or Casey Becker are being cross-referenced, it’s going to take some time, but we’ll find him.”

Tatum nudged you and smiled at Sidney.

Dewey pulled into the school lot with ease, parallel parking at the curb.

He got out and opened the door for you and Sidney.

You smiled at him, thanking him quietly, and he tilted his hat at you as Sidney got out next.

However, your smile quickly faded, seeing a reporter running towards your side; most likely to ambush both you and Sidney about what happened.

“(Y/n) how does it feel to know the murderer is lusting after you and nearly butchering your friends? Do you know who the killer is, are you a part of his twisted game?” A red head asked, shoving a mic at you, accusing you of being his partner-in-crime.

You scoffed, irritated, but somehow calm, honoured that she knows the killer wants you.

“What about you, Sidney? How does it feel to be almost brutally killed?”

Sidney bit her lip, already wanting to cry.

Dewey stepped in front, shoving the reporter away.

“Hey, leave them alone!” He shouted, towering over the petite woman.

She stumbled back, but wasn’t giving up.

“People want to know. They have a right to know!”

You, Tatum and Sidney bolted, getting away from all the interrogations this woman was sure to have up her sleeves.

You were pressed against a locker; your mid back arched causing your torso to move forward; and your arms folded, pushing your breasts together, making them pop out.

“This is a mistake, I shouldn’t be here…” Sidney huffed, grabbing her books and slamming her locker door shut.

You sighed, plopping a sucker in your mouth; twirling the red treat around your tongue, pursing your lips tightly around it and without meaning to, your eyes landed on Stu who was already watching you.

You blushed and he smirked, liking how you looked with your mouth full.

“I want you to meet me right here after class, okay, Sid?” Tatum spoke and Sidney nodded.

“Hey, Stu, I haven’t seen Billy around… is he really pissed?”

Stu tore his gaze from you, looking at Sidney.

“Oh, you mean after you branded him the Candyman?”

You shoved Stu slightly, giving him a glare.

He winced, “No, his heart’s broken—“

Suddenly a scream was heard and the four of you looked into the direction it came from, spotting a student running down the hall dressed as Ghostface.

You blushed again, seeing the full cloaked figure and that ghostly-white mask again.

‘Fuck, that’s hot.’ You smirked slightly, turning your head to the side, trying to subtly check out the student who’s dressed up like the murderer, you let out a quiet “Mmph” squeezing your thighs together.

Unbeknownst to you, Stu heard your moan, and knew exactly what you were doing with your thighs. Luckily, the others did not, but he is so glad that he did. He can smell the hormones leaking off of you; they were practically oozing with want for the cloaked-killer.

He bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement.

“Why are they doing this?” Sidney spoke, watching the student run away.

Stu, glanced at you, “Are you kidding me? Look at this place, it’s like Christmas!” He laughed, a devious smirk prying at his lips as the comment was directed at you. You were his Christmas, knowing the woman he wants is full blown horny for him, for Ghostface.

Tatum huffed, hitting him with the lollipop you had given her prior, “Stupidity leak.”

“Hey!” Stu shrieked, immediately looking at his girlfriend, while the school bell blared, signalling the start of class and students were quick to get going.

Sidney ran down the hall, upset at Stu’s comment and Tatum ran after her. You sighed, looking down, picking up your bag in the process. You went to go wave ‘bye’ to Stu, but he vanished.

“Huh?” You mumbled out loud, seeing how he was gone and so was every other student that was there nearly two minutes ago. “That’s my cue…”

Tapping your fingers against your hip, you hummed to the tune of ‘Your Dead’ by Norma Tanega.

You stopped in front of the janitors closest to reach for your Walkman that was in your bag, wanting to blare the song in your ears, hoping that actually listening to the catchy tune would make it stop repeating itself inside your head.

Though, the universe had other plans…

You felt the door swing open, hitting you, knocking you out of the way, making you drop your only source of music.

Soon after, a hand covered your mouth and an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the closet.

A scream hitched in your throat as the unknown figure flicked the light on, revealing who the culprit was…Stu.

“Stu, what the actual fuck was that for!?” You narrowed your eyes, clenching your fist, ready to punch him out of fear.

He laughed, but soon afterwards told you to be quiet, locking the door behind him as he stepped forward.

“Shh, I don’t want anyone to hear us.” He whisper-yelled, getting closer to you, placing both hands on either side of your arms.

He was a good two-to-three feet taller than you.

“I saw you, you know…” He bit his lip again, rolling the flesh with his teeth, gripping your arms tighter.

You looked up at him, confused, not sure what he meant, however, a part of you knew where this might be going.

“The way your face went red, how you rubbed your thighs together..” He taunted, poking your nose, “Let’s not forget that sweet-little moan you let out when you saw that student…” He leaned into the crease of your collarbone, nipping at the skin, the coolness of his lips penetrating your warmth.

Your face was hot with yearn, but also embarrassment. “The student who was dressed as the Woodsboro slasher…” He grinned, feeling you shiver at his touch.

“W-what—“ You began, trying to act like you didn’t know what he was talking about; ashamed that you were caught. You were quickly silenced by Stu pressing his lips against yours, his bulge pushing up against your side.

His fingers danced across your arms to the string of your grey tank top, ripping it from your body with force as the sound of the thin material shredding lingered in your ears. Fortunately for Stu, you didn’t have a bra on…

Your breasts jiggled from the impact, bouncing in place which caused a small guttural growl to emit from Stu’s throat.

Stu immediately grabbed your boob in his right hand, rubbing his thumb across the perky bud, while his other hand gripped at your bare side, his fingers digging into your ribs.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the finger prints you already had bruised into your skin. They almost lined up with his own marks, but his were slightly bigger. Stu only quirked a brow, continuing to fondle your breast, not wanting to ruin the moment by asking.

Stu trembled at the thought of someone else having you, but he was sure to find out who and kill him.

“M-mm..” You let out a breathy moan, making Stu lose track of his thoughts,“But T-Tatum—“ you stuttered, holding back another sound as he slid his hand into your shorts, rubbing your clit through the silk of your panties.

He hooked his finger under the band, pulling you even closer, his forehead pressing up against your own.

<— Previous Next —>

#fanfiction #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #billy loomis x female reader #billy x stu #stu macher x female reader #stu matcher x reader #stu macher smut #stu x reader

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sirfrogsworth · 3 months

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Chain of Rocks Bridge - The Alternate Takes Chapter One: Just the Bridge

I told you I took a bunch of photos of this bridge. The previous 16 photos I posted were the ones I super duper liked. But these are the ones that I liked slightly less. It's actually quite challenging to pick out favorites. And I'm never quite sure if my favorites will be your favorites. Perhaps there are hidden gems within. Or you'll just be sick of this bridge and move on to another post.

Because I had took way too many photos I really challenged myself to edit these creatively. Pushing the photos in a different direction each time. If you are curious what it actually looked like, this one is edited to resemble the way things appeared when the sun went down.

The camera can suck in a lot of light with a long exposure and see a lot more than our eyeballs. Basically I was in the dark mumbling to myself, "I can't see shit. I hope these turn out okay."

#photography

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instarsandcrime · 24 days

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Returning the Favor (1/4)

Well well well, look who compromised with my current schedule by doing this story in little chunks! Thank you again to everyone who voted in the poll, and I hope Sick!Husk and Caretaker...everyone? was worth the wait, even if it's going to be spaced out in chapters. First up is Charlie and Vaggie!

I hope you enjoy! 😊

“ET’CHHHH’uh!”

“Bless you again!”

“HET’SHHHH’huh!”

“And again…”

“HET’SCHHHH! HEP’SHHHHUH!”

“Oh dear, that sounded–”

“HEP’CHHHOO!”

“--bad.”

A volley of honking nose blows echoed off slings and shooters as Husk fought another nagging itch, ignoring the way his boss leaned across the mahogany counter, thick brows tied in a worried knot. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you? Some medicine? Or blankets? I-I can make you tea–!”

“No need.” Husk interrupted, crumpling his well-worn tissue into a nearby waste bin, “I’ve got– snfff! Ugh, two hours’ve overtime left.”

“Two hours?!” Charlie yelped, pointed ears flattening in return. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, “S-sorry! Sorry, it’s just. Your schedule didn’t show– it wasn’t exactly brought to my attention–” she took a deep breath, flattening her palms together as if she were praying to God for patience. “that issss…a lot of time.”

“I can handle it.” Her bartender waved a paw, ignoring the way he wobbled as he reached for a clean rag.

“Oh, of course, of course! I have every bit of faith in you!” Painted lips upturned, grin so artificially sweet that sugar laced Husk's tongue. He raised a brow, counting down the seconds for what would inevitably come next.

Three.

“You know your limits, obviously!” Her black fingernails fiddled with a sleeve cuff.

Two.

“A-and really, there’s nothing to worry about! You’re one tough cookie!” They moved to her hair, twirling a blonde lock.

One.

“It’s just,” there it is, “as your manager I can give you some time off for tonight instead? That way you get some rest?”

“That’s a real nice offer you’re giving me, Princess. Tempting, even. But uh. I’m still supposed to be on the clock.” Husk elaborated, scratching the back of his neck.

“But I never ordered you to–”

“No. You didn’t.” Golden eyes flicked to a spot in the corner, at a dusty old radio surrounded by its immaculately cleaned resting place. Untouched, unbothered, unsettling.

“...Oh.” Charlie breathed. Melancholy mood immediately shattered when more gasping hitches filled the air.

“HUP’SHHUH!” A flurry of feathers snapped wide, flapping to keep any semblance of balance. Fangs sucking in a sharp hiss of air when dagger-sharp claws dug into the shiny countertop he just cleaned, neon lights accenting a sparkling mist of contagion.

“Oh! Oh! Maybe we can pass the time until a customer comes in!” It only took a second for his stubborn caretaker to shake off the outburst, patient suppressing a miserable groan in return.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“Well yeah, but um. I’ve been practicing a magic trick and I thought you might want to see it?” Despite his better efforts Husk’s ear flicked curiously and, out of pure spite, he wiped and re-wiped and re-wiped the countertop until it was a mirror of its former self.

Nope. Ignore her. Do not look.

“I’m busy.” He said to the near empty lobby.

“It’ll just take a moment! Please?”

You know what’s gonna happen when you look.

“C’mon Husk! I super duper promise that I’ll do it once! That’s it!”

Not if you paid him for the rest of his fucking afterlife.

“Come on, it’ll take five seconds and then you can go back to work like nothing happened!”

Biting the bullet he turned around and–

–fought the urge to take off his hat and let loose a blood-curdling scream. He blamed it on the exhaustion that plagued him and definitely not the doe eyes that nearly blinded him with angelic light.

“Fine.” He growled, rounding the corner to pull up a stool. “But I’m givin’ you my spare pack. It's kinda dinky lookin', but it does its job well.”

Charlie wasn’t listening. Charlie was too busy vibrating excitedly, carefully cradling the beat up box like she was handling the deed to Hell.

“Okay! Get ready…” Sticking out her tongue, she concentrated as she worked her magic. Magic being a loose, loose description considering the fact that she was stuck on the shuffling phase. Well, less of a shuffle and more like a mutation of a shuffle and a card flick. It was almost impressive– a magician’s trick that doubled as a natural force of chaos.

“Whoops!” Her hand scattered, and she hurriedly scooped them up from all corners of the carpet.

“Let me just–” Somehow defying gravity, they flew up into the air and fluttered down like snowflakes.

“One more time!” The four of spades smacked her square in the face. Peeling the card off to shoot it a sour look, she turned to see her only audience member hunched over the bar, paws locked tight against his muzzle. Heart leaping in her chest, Charlie quickly abandoned her act, rushing over. Her hands hovered above his trembling frame like she was trying to find the right angle to lift a burning box.

“O-oh gosh, are you okay? Do you need to throw up? I could get a trash can but–”

All worries screeched to a grinding halt as loud, raspy laughter echoed through the lobby. Husk slapped a paw on the counter, letting out an exasperated whoop. “You– pff! Ahahaha! Y-you really know how to entertain a guy– kaff kAFF–!” Hysterics spiraled into hacking coughs, feeling comforting circles rub his back.

“You feel warm.” Charlie whispered, but her bartender quickly shook his head, reaching for a tissue to wipe at his nose.

“I’ll live. Now pass me the damb-- snff! Damn cards, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Husk smirked.

Charlie couldn’t help but soften, surrendering her cards to the expert. She watched as he cracked his knuckles. Flexed his claws. Took a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen you like this before. Not since Extermination Day, anyway.” Charlie hummed.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Husk shot back a rusty grin.

“You're having fun! I'm so happy for you!”

The other froze mid-stretch, eyes widening. Shit.

“I’m just showin’ you how to do a damn magic trick. Don’t read too much into it.” He grumbled, tucking his tail between his legs before it could wag. He took the pack in one heart-shaped paw pad, testing the bend before it leapt to the other side in a blaze of red, black, and gold glory.

Or at least, that was supposed to happen. Instead, a strong tickle feathered his nose. It twitched wildly until–

“ET’CHOO! EP’TSHHOO! HEP’TCCCHH!” An encore of snow fluttered to the ground. He blinked once. Twice. Before Charlie’s wind-chime giggles filled the air.

“One more time.” Husk said with untapped determination as he plucked the deck one card at a time, unable to swallow the spark of joy that came with it.

But he knows what Charlie is doing. What they’re about to do.

He won’t let them win.

“Ugh.” Vaggie scoffed.

“Ugh.” Husk echoed the sentiment, shaking his wings free of the storm around them.

It wasn’t too bad of a job. A resident was struggling with their move, and prompted by an exercise to make more friends– aka unstick herself from Charlie’s side– the hotel's guardian offered to help. It was a nice thought…until she saw how many moving vans had piled on the roadside. And with more on the way, Husk was good muscle in any weather, rain or shine.

Because of course he was.

“ESHHHUH! ETCHHH’HUH! Son of a bitch.”

“I think you have a fever–”

“I’m fine. It's just a cold.” Husk snapped, prying Vaggie’s wrist from his forehead. He got an eyeroll for his efforts, and the ex-soldier stared into the horizon with a scowl, watching the downpour that fell from the Heavens. Ignoring the violent shivering and soaked fur that clung to the other like an icy blanket. Husk glanced her way once, twice– betrayed again by the flick of an ear.

“How come you’re not fuckin’ freezing out here?”

At that Vaggie’s hardened glare turned bashful. She scratched her arm, suddenly finding her muddy shoes very interesting. “Angel’s blood, uh, runs a little warmer. Because we live– or I used to– live so high up in the air–”

“HEP’SHHUH!” She jumped, clutching her chest as Husk let loose another near-deafening sneeze. She could almost mistake it for thunder if she wasn’t careful.

“Oh. Uh, bless–”

“HET’CHHH’CHEW!”

“Ble–”

“HET’CHH! HET’tshh! ‘Tshhh! ‘Tchh! ‘Tch! Tch’hhhiew!” His fit spiraled until all that was left were weak, squeaky kitten sneezes. He slapped a paw against his muzzle as he stifled, desperate to get his aching nose under control. “Heh’ntshh! Nt’tchh! ‘Nnt! ‘Nt! Hnt’chxt’hiew! Ghh– goddamnihhHH-! Het’SHHH’HUH!...hHH– HET’SCHHHHHOO! …Guh...”

Sniffling thickly, Husk felt the nagging itch slow to a stop in time with the storm. Blinking moisture from his eyes, the sickly demon looked up to see a silvery wing hovering over his head, granting him a small, cozy sanctuary. The fallen angel merely shrugged her free shoulder nonchalantly, “What? I talk your ear off at the bar. Might as well return the favor.”

And, completely unprompted and wholly against his will, another spark of happiness warmed his chest. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, I get it! You assholes want me to rest? Fine! I’m resting!”

He marched off, ignoring the small smile that he left behind.

“I didn’t say anything.” Vaggie retorted.

“Fuck you.” His angry growls were anything but, and he resisted the urge to throw his hat into a puddle.

So he caved under the pressure a little. Not his fault he's surrounded by demons dedicating their miserable lives to redemption.

They’re too good at their job.

#ha//zb//in//ho//tel//#snz fic #char/lie #hu/sk #va/ggi/ie #snz

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inukag-archive · 3 months

Note

do you know any nsfw stories that are set immediately after kagome comes back after the 3 years? It can be a chaptered story or oneshot

Thank you!!!

superpyku asked:

Hello, I love a good post-canon fanfic where it describes what happened when Kagome came back from the well. Doesn't need to be a long fic about their life thereafter but one about what happened during and immediately after their reunion will be good. Would love to know your fav list of such. Thank you

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

We love a good reunion fic! The list below is full of stories that take place right as Kagome returns to the Feudal Era and immediately after, split into NSFW and SFW for whatever mood you're looking for. There are a lot of fics like this out there, but we capped ourselves at 20 to keep the list at a reasonable length. Feel free to add your favorites in the reblogs/replies!

If you're looking for more post-canon goodness, you can also check out our other post canon lists:

Post Canon

Post Canon NSFW

Post Canon / Canon Fluff

Happy reading!

[NSFW]

Dearest by @kitramune (M)

After Kagome returns to the Sengoku Era, Inuyasha and she explore how deep their devotion really goes.

Linked by Alyxandra (E)

Inuyasha and Kagome experience their first night together three years after the disappearance of Shikon no Tama.

When She Comes Back by Karaumea (M)

The story of his wait, her return, and their reunion. One-shot lemon that takes place during and after the last chapter of the manga.

Her Time by @keichanz (M)

All he wanted was some of her time, but as it turned out, so did everybody else. He'd have to make it clear that while they merely borrowed her precious time, he stole and hoarded it for himself, because in the end, she and everything about her belonged to him.

The Return by Sweet Inu Girl (M)

Kagome has returned to the feudal era after three years. Finally feelings are revealed and a new life begins for our favorite miko and hanyou.

Coming Home by @ruddcatha (E)

The day Kagome returned to the Feudal Era, Kagome and Inuyasha came out of their long nightmares. When they are finally alone, confessions are made, feelings are revealed, and a decision is made that impacts the rest of their lives.

After the End: New Beginnings by @splendentgoddess (X)

Welcome to my official post-manga universe! This introductory story takes us through Kagome's return to the past, and her developing relationship with Inuyasha. The first installment of what will be my "After The End" series!

To Fight For Tomorrow by @sarah-writes-stories (E)

The shard hunt...the battle with Naraku...it was only the beginning.

Their past held a terrible prophecy. Her future, the terrifying result. Kagome had finally been allowed to return through the well...but it wasn't luck that granted her wish.

The red threads of fate had always tied them all together, had always guided them towards each other. Now, as new powers are revealed and souls are healed, their destiny becomes clear.

Theirs is a quest that requires everything they have to give.

Theirs is a battle they cannot afford to lose.

Theirs is a fight to protect tomorrow.

Come Back To Me by jyvonne13 (M)

After defeating Naraku, Inuyasha and Kagome were separated for three long years after the well closed. What happens on that fateful day when Inuyasha catches her scent after so long? What do the two of them promise each other and how do their lives change from this point on?

With You by Animetey (E)

“Kagome, did you come back to see me... and to be a priestess? Cause I thought...or, I’d hoped... that you came back to be with me.”

Everyone has their own version of what happened the night Kagome returned, this is mine.

[SFW]

White Dogs on Blue Cotton by @artistefish (T)

Caught up in the rush following her unexpected return to the past and to the man she loves, Kagome realizes a little late that some of her wardrobe choices aren't quite as private as they used to be. Post-canon, InuKag reunion, super-duper fluffy.

Hearts Returned by @mrfeenysmustache (M)

A sweet moment alone after a long day of welcome backs.

Love Language by @shikonstar (T)

When Kagome returns to the past, a love-starved hanyou is hoping for some words of affirmation.

One Day With You by @hanmajoerin (G)

After spending three years in the world she grew up in, Kagome is able to return home.

A three years later reunion fic.

Inukag Fluff Week 2022 (Chapter 3: Hot Springs) by @inukagbot (T)

inuyasha is a thoughtful, soft little puppy who missed his girlfriend very much so he decides to do something nice for her like the Good Boyfriend he is. confessions ensue.

Clashing Emotions by PureKagome (K)

Kagome has finally returned after her three year absence. And what is the first thing Inuyasha does? Screw up.

Stay By My Side by PotatoButt (G)

Kagome finally gets to return to Inuyasha's time after three years.

A Not So Modern Convenience by doggieearlover (T)

Post Manga Canon. Kagome is worried about InuYasha's happiness while he has the same concerns about her and tries to do something about it.

Kagome's Got To Go by @ajoy3fanfics (NR)

The way Yuki and Suki saw it, this Kagome woman needed to go.

From the first day she came, they knew she was trouble. They had been playing a perfectly fun game of 'who can annoy uncle the most' (It was always Suki), when he suddenly stood up, passing them off to Shippo with a distant look in his eyes. Uncle was fast, there was no question about that, but unless there was a reason for him to be on high alert, he was downright lethargic. Still, Uncle Inuyasha needing space wasn't anything new, so it wasn't terribly worrisome that he took off at high speed; It did, however, raise a few red flags when Shippo shook them off and headed in the dog demons direction, screaming "it's her! She's back!"

Snapshots of Life After the End by ananova (T)

A collection of post-canon after the anime and manga end interconnected drabbles that show bits of Inuyasha and Kagome's life together. Not posted in any particular order.

Feel free to add your own recs in the comments or reblogs! Check our Masterlist of previous lists to see which topics we've covered. After reviewing our submission guidelines, send us an ask (here).

#inukag archive #inukag fanfic #inuyasha fanfiction #post canon #reunion fics

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 2 months

Text

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 10

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, show level violence

Word Count: 7,447

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Sorry again that this chapter got postponed a day. But here is the conclusion of the series. (Except for the epilogue coming next Saturday - or maybe a little earlier. 😉) I've absolutely loved writing this series. Loved living in the Endverse for a while, so thank you so much to everyone who came along with me. And an extra, super-duper thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged their thoughts about the story as we went along. Kind words fuel authors. ❤️ And oh yeah, this chapter's a bit long. Sorry! 😊

Main Master List || Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Y/N didn’t want to look away, she wanted to keep her eyes on Dean. But the white light was absolutely blinding and she eventually had no choice but to turn away from it. The rush of white noise was almost deafening before becoming suddenly silent.

There was only darkness behind her eyelids now so Y/N opened her eyes and stood up straight, looking at Dean where he still stood, halfway between her and Zachariah. His back was to her and she took a step towards him.

“Dean?” She questioned quietly.

He turned slightly so he could see her over his shoulder. He peered at her for a moment, almost scientifically, before he gave his head a brief shake.

“No.”

Y/N would never be able to explain it, but somehow it was Dean’s face, Dean's voice, and yet it wasn’t him. Something was missing from his sparkling, jewel green eyes.

This was Michael. Dean was gone.

Without a moment’s pause, the archangel strode towards the other angels and in the span of a breath they were all gone, leaving behind only the sound of fluttering wings.

Y/N stood stock still, staring at the empty, open field where Dean had stood less than a minute before. Around her chaos began to spread. The people who’d been putting out the fire were rushing towards them now, trying to find out what was going on. Screams echoed as people saw Johnston lying dead on the ground.

Everyone was asking her questions, but she had no answers, she had no words. She just stood, as people rushed around her, feeling as though she’d wake up at any moment. She’d wake up and Dean’s arms would be around her and when he woke she’d tell him about the horrible dream and how scary it had been and he’d hold her gently and tell her it was all just a nightmare.

“...I have my arms wrapped tightly around you and we’re both safe…Close your eyes and stay there, in that moment.”

Dean’s soft words whispered their way into her mind and she shivered. This couldn’t be happening.

Without warning her knees buckled and she fell to the muddy, wet ground, her muscles simply going limp. She covered her face as more tears began to fall. She felt the weight of all her tears gathering in her chest, threatening to crush her, when suddenly she heard Risa calling her name.

When she looked up the soldier was standing over her, still holding Emma in her arms.

“Y/N, you can’t. You just can’t right now. Emma needs you, and I’ve got to… “ She waved an arm towards the people who were panicking all around them.

Y/N felt her mind rebelling, all she wanted was to sit there in the mud and let the cool night air numb her to the all-consuming ache spreading throughout her body.

But she looked up into Emma’s little, terrified face, and forced herself to really hear the horror and confusion all around her; she knew she couldn’t just fall apart.

She nodded at Risa and pushed herself to her feet. She took Emma from her and the other woman gave her a nod and moved into action, working with Cas and her fellow soldiers to start organizing the chaos, trying to get campers back to their tents. They also started debating how best to deal with the burnt out cabin and Johnston’s lifeless body

For her part, Y/N simply turned away from the cacophony and walked slowly back to the red tent. Emma was sobbing on her shoulder and Y/N gathered every ounce of her exhausted strength to try and console her little girl.

When they reached the tent Y/N set Emma down on her cot and wrapped a warm blanket around her while she went to light the stove and warm up the tent. After standing out in the cool night air for so long with no jackets, getting them warm was the first order of business.

Before long the little stove was chugging out ample heat, and she went back over to Emma and snuggled her daughter into her lap. After a while the little girl’s tears subsided into deep, shuddering breaths. Her voice was tiny and quiet when she spoke.

“Dean is gone.”

Y/N felt the whispered words pierce her heart. “Yeah, baby.”

“Will he come back?”

“Yes.” Y/N said it without thinking, her soul making the decision. But she didn’t want to lie to her child either, so she amended her comment. “I’m sure he’s going to try really hard to come back.”

Emma seemed to accept that and was quiet for a little while. Then she spoke again, her soft words tinged with fear.

“Did the bad man kill Eric?”

Y/N squeezed her tighter and nodded against the top of her head. “Yes, baby, because he’s a very bad man.”

“Will he come back to kill us?”

Y/N felt her stomach plummet with fear and heartbreak that her daughter’s mind was so clouded with terror.

Y/N shook her head. “No, baby. He won’t come back now.” She hoped she wasn’t lying.

“Because Dean saved us?”

Y/N felt as though her heart was being crushed. “Yeah, sweet pea, because Dean saved us.”

***

The next few days passed in a haze for Y/N. She was trying desperately to keep it together for Emma’s sake. Her daughter was having nightmares every night and the last thing she needed was her mother crumbling on her. But Y/N was barely sleeping, no more than a couple of hours a night. Every ounce of her being felt exhausted - worn out beyond measure.

There were no classes to teach, thank goodness; the camp was still disorganized and a bit scattered. A dozen or so campers had left, afraid of more angel retaliation. The campers left behind were trying to salvage what they could from the big cabin, and deal with the rest of the burnt out building.

Three days after Dean had gone, Cas came to their tent in the evening, carrying extra wood and asking Y/N if she needed anything.

“No, Cas, we’re good. You don’t have to worry about us.” She said with a forced smile.

“I told Dean I would take care of you.” He said with conviction. “It’s still cold at night, hence the wood. What else do you need?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, Cas. Really.”

He lifted his chin towards Emma who was sleeping on her cot. “How is she?”

Y/N gave a small shrug. “She's trying to cope, like all of us.”

He nodded and then headed out. As he lifted the tent flap, Y/N called him back. When he turned his bright blue gaze on her she hesitated before asking the question that wouldn't leave her mind.

“Can we get him back? Somehow?”

Cas stared at her intensely for a moment before his eyes softened slightly; his deep voice was gentle as he spoke.

“We can hope.”

Y/N closed her eyes. “Yes. Hope.”

When she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone.

***

A week after Dean left they still hadn't figured out any way to get him back, or even how to find him. Cas had begun to hear angel radio again, but the angels were being very quiet. Just the odd remark here and there that made Cas believe that they were still in Kansas, but he couldn't be sure.

The camp had gone back to functioning - mostly. But people kept saying things like, “We’ll run it by the Boss and see what he says.” before realizing that was impossible. The soldiers were trying to run things smoothly between them, and Brandy was helping to keep things as organized as possible.

But Dean was very missed.

A full eight days after losing him, Y/N sat up at the table one night, desperately trying to think up a way to get Dean back to her. Her eyes were scratchy and red-rimmed as she let her head fall into her hands.

She may have fallen asleep right there if there hadn't been a sudden burst of white light. It lit up the tent, blinding her. As it faded slightly, she could just make out a man's shape. Her heart leapt for a moment before realizing this man was much too small to be Dean.

A deep booming voice spoke and shook the ground around them.

“Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. Fear not, Y/N: for thou hast - Ow! Son of a bitch!”

The angel cut off his proclamation and held up his hands as Y/N smacked him repeatedly with a broom. The last of his angelic light went out like a candle and he grabbed the broom away from Y/N and snapped it with incredible ease.

“What the hell, lady?” He rubbed the side of his head where she'd walloped him. “You know that worked great with Mary. SHE knew how to be ‘sore afraid’.”

Y/N went to Emma's cot where her daughter was crying silently, obviously horrified to see another angel, inside their tent this time.

“Get out!” Y/N said with as much strength as she could muster.

“You really don't want that, trust me.” The angel said, his hazel eyes twinkling, a smirk on his thin lips.

“Who are you; what do you want?”

He gave a little bow. “Name’s Gabriel, but I prefer Loki.”

The tent flap opened and suddenly Cas was there with Risa and Patrick flanking him. But Cas pulled up short when he saw the other angel.

“Gabriel?”

“Hey, bro!” Gabriel said cheerfully.

Cas looked to the two soldiers on either side of him. “I'm fine here. You should patrol the area. Look for anything amiss or out of place. But don't approach it without me.”

Both soldiers gave a curt nod and left.

Cas came fully into the tent and his face was very wary. “Gabriel, what are you doing here? Where have you been for the last thousand Millenia or so? Most of us thought you were dead.”

“Nope.” Gabriel's voice was still nonchalant and cheery. “Just in a sort of witness relocation. Got sick to death of Daddy's beefs and Lucifer and Michael's petty squabbling. So, I took a little time off. Sailed around, saw the world, got myself a brand new face.”

He framed his face with his two hands. “Cute, right?”

Cas just frowned at him and Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You have never known how to have fun Castiel.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Well, these humans are under my protection, so I'll save the fun until after you tell me what you're doing here.”

Gabriel lost his smirk and he crossed his arms. “Isn't it obvious? I'm here to save the day, as always.”

Cas scoffed. “Not likely. You tend to sew chaos.”

Gabriel shrugged. “What can I say, it's a talent.” He moved back to lean against the table.

“But seriously, I'm so over this apocalypse. As soon as Lucy dumped his little virus on this world, I was outta here. No fun to be had with a bunch of humans barely clinging to life. So, I traveled near and far, all over the galaxy and a little bit further. It's been sort of fun. But let me tell you, there are only so many green-skinned, six-legged chicks you can bang before you start pining for home, you know?”

He gave his head a shake. “Don't know how Captain Kirk did it.”

“Get to the point, brother.” Cas said, annoyance lacing his tone.

“I'm here to help.”

“So you said. How?” Cas asked harshly.

Gabriel shrugged again. “I have a way to shove Lucifer and Michael into the cage.”

From his pocket he pulled out an oddly shaped object. It was an X made up of four circles, four rings, by the looks of it.

He held it up. “Borrowed these from the horsemen. Well,” he shrugged, “to be fair, only Death was willing to part with his, the others didn't wanna give ‘em up easily. But, you know, archangel trumps most. I was glad Death was so cooperative though, he woulda been a tough one to beat.”

Cas stepped up to him and held out his hand. Gabriel dropped the cross into it and Cas peered at it closely.

“The horsemen’s rings. What will this do?”

Gabriel's voice was quiet. “Keys to the cage, brother.”

Cas’ eyes widened. “Lucifer’s cage?”

Gabriel nodded. “And Michael’s too.” He paused for a beat. “And mine.”

Cas frowned. “Yours? Why would you throw yourself into the cage?”

Gabriel shrugged, but Y/N could see a flicker of some deep emotion pass over his mobile features.

“Someone’s gotta pull those two down there. And I’d say after millions of years, and untold damage to the world, me and my brothers could use some time alone and family therapy.”

He allowed a smile to turn up the corner of his mouth.”From what I understand old Raffy’s taken up as a god on some distant planet. He always did like to be worshiped.” He shrugged again, his smirk firmly back in place. “So, it’s just the three of us.”

Cas shook his head. “Why are you doing all of this, Gabriel?”

The archangel took back the key to the cage and slipped it into his pocket. “Told ya, got sick of banging green chicks on Mars.”

“No. That's…there are no green women on Mars.” Cas said, looking at Y/N as though to reassure her.

Y/N stood up and walked the few steps to where Gabriel stood, looking him straight in the eye. “Can you bring Dean back?”

Gabriel contemplated her for a moment and then shook his head. “No.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, and she opened her mouth to shout at him, but Gabriel held up a hand, patting his pocket with the other. “With this I can open the cage, and I can pull my brothers down with me to be locked away. But if you want Dean back, you’ve gotta get him to toss Michael first. Otherwise, his body and soul come down too.”

Y/N began to panic. “What are you talking about? You are not dragging Dean down to hell, no matter what!” She shouted, her fists balled. “I will not let you.”

Gabriel’s smile looked genuine for the first time as he looked at Y/N fuming in front of him before turning to Cas. “She’s feisty! Dean knows how to pick ‘em!”

He looked back at Y/N and held both his hands up in surrender. “Look, I can’t extract Michael from Dean’s body, it doesn’t work that way; Dean has to be the one to throw him out. And there’s nothing I could say to give him that kind of strength.” He tilted his head slightly. “But you might be able to. You’re our best shot.”

He looked to Cas. “If she can get Dean to toss Michael, I’ll grab on to him. I’ll be able to hold him for a little while. Hopefully long enough to get to Lucifer and try to get Sam Winchester to eject him.”

He shook his head. “That one’s gonna be a lot harder, and I’m not gonna lie, I don’t hold out very much hope. I also don’t know what kind of shape Sam’s gonna be in even if he can get him out. He’s held Lucifer for five years now, he might be too far gone.”

Cas nodded. “If we can get Dean, he can get Sam. Or, he’ll be the best chance anyway. And if Sam manages to eject Lucifer, Dean won’t care what condition he’s in, he’ll fix him.”

Gabriel gave a nod. “We’ll see, I suppose. But we gotta start with Dean so…” He looked at Y/N. “What do you say, beautiful?”

Y/N contemplated him for a moment before looking at Cas. “Do you trust him?”

Cas was quiet for a long time, looking Gabriel over, the debate clear in his expression.

The archangel rolled his eyes. “Thanks, bro.”

Finally Cas nodded. “Yes, I believe we can trust him.”

Y/N took a deep breath, hope and fear spreading throughout her body in equal measure. “Okay, then let’s go save the Winchesters.”

***

Their traveling party was prepared and ready to go in very little time, most of which was spent explaining to Emma why she couldn’t come.

Y/N knew how terrified her little girl must be, thinking she was losing her mother now too. Eventually though, her tears subsided and her little face became resolved to what was happening. It broke Y/N’s heart to see that resolve, to know that her daughter’s soft heart was getting tougher.

Y/N swore to herself that she was going to bring Dean home, and they would live happily ever after, spoiling Emma and letting her go soft once again.

Before they left, Y/N gave Monique a hug and thanked her again. She’d pulled her friend aside earlier and spoken quietly with her, asking her to take care of Emma if anything should happen to her. Tears had welled up in Monique’s beautiful amber eyes but she’d clasped Y/N’s hands tightly.

“I will always look after Emma as my very own.” She shook her head and dashed away her tears. “But you’ll be back in no time, I’m sure. So, I’ll see you soon.”

The soldiers, Brandy and Monique had all checked privately with Y/N about whether or not she was really okay to set off with two angels. Y/N reassured them that she trusted Cas completely and he trusted Gabriel. So she did too. Besides, she’d reasoned, if this was their only possibility to save Dean, she had to take it.

Gabriel said he knew just where Michael was staying, so she held Cas’ hand as the archangel tapped his brother’s shoulder and in a blink they were suddenly standing just outside a rundown Victorian house.

The springtime sun was just beginning to lighten the sky in the East as they popped into existence on the sidewalk outside the house.

She hadn’t even had time to wave goodbye.

The three of them walked slowly up the front stairs and through the door. As they entered the house they heard a voice call from the back.

“The polite thing to do would have been to call first, you know.”

Y/N felt her heart leap. She recognized Dean’s voice, but it sounded different. The consonants were more clipped, the words more even in tone, almost bland, bored. His voice had none of Dean’s rough, expressive way of speaking.

The dissonance continued as they walked into the sitting room and found Dean. He held himself ramrod straight, and when he turned towards them, his face held none of Dean’s stony anger, or joyful exuberance. It too was bland, cold, his normally shining, emerald eyes looked almost empty.

Looking at this version of Dean was very difficult. Somehow being in front of this non-Dean made Y/N miss him even more.

But he never spared her a glance. All his attention was on his brothers. “Castiel, it’s been a long time. And Gabriel,” he looked him up and down, “it’s been even longer. Millions of years, in fact. I almost didn’t recognize you in this vessel.”

“Yeah, got this one custom made by a good friend of mine.” He ran a hand across his chest. “I’ve grown quite fond of my earthly form, so I’m happy I don’t have to share it with a human, and I don’t ever have to turn into a bright white mist, cause there's no human inside to reject me. This beautiful face is mine all mine.”

He smiled wide, but Michael just frowned. “That’s sacrilege, brother. Our angelic form is greater than any human disguise.”

Gabriel shrugged. “But they sure come in handy don’t they. If you wanna get anything done on earth, they really are a necessity.” He raised a hand towards him. “Hence all your trouble to get this one.”

Gabriel's tone became grandiose and overwrought. “For here is your sword, your one true vessel. Destined for eons to be the one human whose bones you were the most eager to jump.”

Michael stared at him soundlessly for a moment and then spoke in the same even, emotionless tone. “Why are you here, Gabriel? And why have you brought this human?” He pointed at Y/N, but still didn’t look at her.

Gabriel paused a beat before answering. “Well, we have a bone to pick with you.”

That was the signal to spur Cas into action. A white light shot out from Gabriel’s hands, connecting him to Michael. As the two archangels fought, Michael trying desperately to break the hold Gabriel had on him, Cas ran in front of him, drawing a straight line from wall to wall in holy oil and then dropping a lit match, trapping Michael behind the line of flame.

Gabriel let his brother go, grunting with effort as the connection broke. Michael’s borrowed face was no longer emotionless, it was furious and bubbling with hate.

“How dare you!” He shouted at Gabriel. “How dare you try to interfere with my destiny. This fight has been postponed for five long years while Lucifer ran amok. It is my duty to fight him and end him!”

Gabriel was scowling at his big brother a moment before a wide grin spread across his face. “You said doody.”

Everyone paused to look at him askance, and he shrugged. “What? That’s funny! Nobody has a sense of humor these days.”

He shook his finger at Michael. “You know who would have laughed at that, the man you’re possessing. He would have thought it was hilarious. Or at least, he would have before the apocalypse struck. Been a bit down in the mouth since Lucifer possessed his brother and ended the world.”

Michael was still livid and he spoke through gritted teeth. “We tried to tell Dean that I needed my sword, that I needed my vessel to fight Lucifer, but he wouldn’t listen. He brought this on humanity.”

“Bullshit!” Gabriel called out and all traces of his humor were gone. “You could have used another vessel, you could have made due as Lucifer did before Sam. But no, you wanted THIS vessel.” He pointed at Dean. “And you were pissed you couldn’t have him, so you threw a hissy fit and left the world to burn.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Gabriel spoke again, quiet now. “And I left with you. I cashed in my chips and walked away from the table. But I kept an eye on humanity while I was galivanting around the universe. Kind of an old habit, and what I saw shocked me. The world was over, civilization destroyed, and yet - on they all trudged. These people. These humans. They kept on fighting. These flawed broken toys we all mocked and looked down on, they fought, they loved, they helped each other, they won and lost, but no matter what, they just kept going.”

Michael was motionless as Gabriel continued, pointing towards Y/N. “And just as there was a possibility of hope, just as they found a way they might be able to win, might be able to restart the world, here you come again, army in tow, ready to level the planet all over. And for what? So you can fight some ancient grudge match with our brother?” He shook his head. “What is the bloody point?”

Dean’s jaw ticked with Michael’s annoyance. “It’s my destiny. It’s what I was created to do.”

Gabriel looked sad as he glanced over at Y/N. “Well, not if she can help it.”

Y/N knew this was her time, it was on her now to help Dean find strength enough to eject the possessing angel. Michael’s cold eyes looked at her through Dean’s sparkling jade and she closed her own for a moment, imagining the warmth in Dean’s expression before she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Dean, can you hear me? I need you to listen, I need you to trust me. Throw him out. I’ll be safe, Emma and I will both be safe now. But I need you to come back home.”

“Dean isn’t available at the moment.” Michael said darkly. But she could see him squinting, almost as though he was in pain and Y/N chose to believe that Dean was fighting him from the inside.

She kept talking as though Michael hadn't spoken.

“I have so many plans for us. Once we’ve made the cure possible, and the world is able to begin again, I really want us to go back home, back to Chitaqua. I wanna build a cabin there. Nothing fancy, you know, just something a bit bigger than the tent, but still cozy - with a bedroom door that locks.” She finished with a wide grin.

She stepped a little closer to him, careful to avoid the flame. “And, of course, I think we’re gonna have to get Emma that dog she asked for. And we can celebrate birthdays and holidays with all of our friends and family. We’ll keep them all close, and safe.”

Michael was stepping back from her, looking away and shaking his head as though he was dizzy.

“Dean, I love you so much. All I want is to spend my life with you. Please kick him out. I know how strong you are, I know you can do it.”

“I’ll kill her!” Michael screamed out suddenly, as though his inner thoughts weren’t loud enough for Dean to hear. “You understand me? If you want her to live, want to keep her safe, stop fighting me. Now!”

Michael was breathing hard, but a joyless smile was spreading across Dean's beautiful face; the archangel was obviously pleased.

“That's better.” He whispered, still slightly out of breath.

They were losing Dean, she could see it. Michael was terrorizing him again with threats against her. So, acting purely on instinct, Y/N made one last attempt, one huge Hail Mary.

She took a deep breath and leapt over the fire, throwing her arms around Dean’s neck. She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him with every ounce of love and passion she could muster.

She put everything into the kiss, every moment she’d loved him, and every promise she was making him were all there, tied up with all the hope in her heart.

She felt a tingling against her lips that started to burn as she pulled away. She jumped back and fell to the ground as Dean let out a roar, and his mouth opened wide. The blinding white light that had consumed him was being forced back out of him, in an incredible light show that ended abruptly as Gabriel reached out and pulled the light into himself.

The darkness was complete for a moment before Y/N’s eyes could adjust. As the world came into focus, she could see Gabriel on the other side of the flame, breathing hard and fast. Cas walked to his side and poured some of his own white light into Gabriel, which seemed to stabilize him slightly.

But his voice was still wobbly when he spoke. “We gotta go. I don’t know how long I can hold him in here with me.”

Y/N nodded and crawled over to where Dean had fallen to the floor. She turned his face towards her just as his eyes fluttered open.

“Y/N?” He whispered and she nodded at him with tears flowing.

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m safe. We’re all safe.”

Dean shook his head. “But how…” He sat up slowly and looked towards where Cas and Gabriel stood. He squinted and shook his head in confusion. “The Trickster’s an angel?”

Cas’ eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel. “You were the Trickster the boys went up against? Twice?”

Dean’s voice was slightly annoyed. “Yeah, he killed me like a million times.”

Y/N felt her stomach lurch, but Gabriel just waved it away as nothing. “I was trying to teach you boys something; wasn’t my finest moment maybe, but you gotta admit, the tacos were funny.”

“Not to me, asshole.” Dean grumbled. Y/N was very confused and about to ask for clarification when Gabriel bent double.

“Ugh!” He groaned. “Okay, could you postpone my spanking for that very hilarious prank until after I’ve saved you all?”

Y/N nodded and helped Dean to his feet. Gabriel looked at him. “Okay, pal, this one’s on you. We’re gonna go get Lucifer so I can toss all of us into the cage. We can try to get Sam to chuck him first. We’ll need you for that. But if you can’t get him, and it seems like Lucifer might get away, I’ll grab Sam as is and jump into the cage.”

Dean stormed up to him. “You are not taking my brother to hell, you understand me?”

Gabriel just shrugged. “Then I guess you better reach him before it’s too late.”

He groaned again as he fought his brother internally, closing his eyes and putting a hand to his head. Without saying any more, they all got into position so Gabriel could zap them to Lucifer’s location.

Just before he could manage it however, there was a bellow of rage from behind them, making them all turn. From the doorway, Zachariah charged forward, angel blade bared and aimed for Dean’s jugular.

Dean shoved Y/N out of the way as the angel charged them like a bull. But when he was just a couple feet from Dean, Cas stuck his foot out, sending the furious angel spilling to the ground in a comical looking pratfall.

He fell onto the still burning holy fire and screamed in pain, rolling around, trying to escape the flames. Before he could pull himself free, however, Dean grabbed onto the silver blade the angel had dropped. He raised it high, and then plunged it deep into his throat, forever freezing the angel's sadistic face in agony.

More blinding white lights burst out of the dying angel, forcing Y/N to once again cover her head and shield her eyes. When she reopened them, she could see the angel’s blackened wings, as his empty vessel was slowly consumed in the flame.

Dean stood up and then helped Y/N to her feet. After giving her a once over to determine she was alright, he turned to Cas.

“Nice job, buddy. Very Keystone Cops.”

Cas frowned. “I don’t know an officer by that name.”

Dean just smiled and then slipped the blade into his pocket as he looked down at the dead angel.

“Good riddance.” He said under his breath before a panting Gabriel yanked him back into position and zapped them all away.

Suddenly, in another heartbeat, they were all standing in a bombed out street; the buildings around them were crumbling and burnt. It was all that was left after some of the original fighting between the army and the Croats five years before. The bombings hadn’t worked.

As they stood looking around, a man caught their eye. He was strolling out of one of the buildings less than twenty feet away; he was very tall and had long brown hair and an easy stride.

Y/N could hear Dean gasp slightly beside her and she took his hand. The man, who could only be Lucifer, slowed down as he approached them. His smile was soft and patronizing.

“Well, well. This is a surprise. What a merry little band of rebels you’ve all turned into.”

He nodded at Gabriel. “Our brothers and sisters all thought you must have been killed somewhere, but I knew better.” He studied him for a minute before smirking. “And I see he got hold of you, Mikey!” He said loudly. He chuckled. “He always was a cuck.”

He frowned slightly as he spared barely a glance for the rest of them. “But Gabe, buddy if you’re here to try and put me back in that cage?” He raised his hand and closed it into a fist and Gabriel began coughing as though he was choking. “Well, that simply isn’t going to happen.”

Cas ran forward to help, but Lucifer tossed him aside with a sweep of his hand. Dean pushed Y/N to crouch behind an upside down car. “Stay here.” He warned, before turning back towards his brother.

“Sammy?�� He called tentatively. Lucifer looked over at him and dropped Gabriel to the ground as he let him go. He faced Dean and shook his head.

“You.” The devil said, his voice menacing. “You have no idea how sick I am of you. Do you know how many times I’ve had to listen to Sammy bellyaching about how he was letting you down? Do you know how ANNOYING it is to execute a perfect reign of terror just to have this boy,” he banged his chest, “weeping in my head instead of truly reveling in it with me?”

He shook his head. “It’s only been quiet in here since I threatened to find you and end you. See that’s how I got Sammy’s cooperation in the first place. I promised that if he said yes I wouldn’t snap your neck like kindling.”

He waved towards Dean dismissively. “You were sound asleep at the time, you wouldn’t remember this. But Sam finally said yes, as I always knew he would, and in return I promised that you could keep on living. So when Sam wouldn’t shut up and stop whining, a simple threat to revoke our original deal was enough to silence him.”

He smiled, and Y/N thought it was pure sin for such a sweet, dimpled smile to sit on the face of evil. Lucifer tilted his head slightly as though he was listening to something.

“But now…hey Sammy.” He said in a silky tone. “Been quiet so long, I'd actually started to miss you.”

Dean took a step closer. “Sammy, can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m so sorry, more than I can ever say. I never should’ve walked away from you. We should have fought these assholes together. I should have known that we’re stronger together than apart.”

He swallowed. “But you’ve gotta chuck him. We’ve got a plan, little brother, we can win. Believe me.”

Lucifer rolled Sam’s bright, hazel eyes just before he slammed his fist into Dean’s face, almost knocking him to the ground.

Gabriel shot light at his brother, but it was much weaker than what he’d thrown at Michael; so much of his strength was being used to keep Michael locked inside himself. Cas added his strength, but Lucifer quickly pushed them both away, severing their hold on him.

Blood gushed from Dean’s lip, his jaw already swollen and purple, as he started forward again.

“Sammy, I need you to force him out. I know how strong you are. I know you can do it. I never should have doubted it, never should have believed they could defeat us. We are Winchesters and we never-”

He broke off as Lucifer landed two more swift blows to his face, causing a sickening crack as Dean’s nose shattered and he crashed to the ground.

Y/N gasped and jumped up, running forward even though there was nothing she could possibly do. Gabriel and Cas fought him again, forcing Lucifer to stumble back slightly. But he found his footing quickly and severed the hold as he had before, this time sending both angels sailing through the air.

Lucifer stared at Dean, hatred spreading across Sam's handsome features. "I am done with you." He shouted. "You are not worth my time."

Looking as though it was a struggle, as though the body he was possessing was fighting back, Lucifer raised his arm, his fingers poised to snap. Y/N screamed, memories bursting in her mind of the swiftness with which Zachariah had ended Johnston’s life with a mere snap.

But before he could manage it, Lucifer once again stumbled backwards. This time, however, Cas and Gabriel had barely risen from the ground and were just walking back towards them.

Lucifer dropped his arm and fell suddenly to his knees. “No.” He whispered, shock suffusing the word, and then he screamed. “No!” The ground shook and rumbled, knocking all of them down.

Suddenly a burst of white light erupted from Sam’s mouth, and as he had before, Gabriel reached forward with his own light to trap his brother.

The light suffused the archangel-turned-Trickster; it was no longer being wholly contained within himself, but spilling out of him as he tried to hold on to all of their angelic forms within his one custom-made vessel.

Jerkily he reached into his pocket and threw the key at Cas. “Now, brother!”

Cas tossed it to the ground and began chanting. As the chant ended, a wide hole began to crack open in the street.

Gabriel pitched forward towards the hole, but his body seemed to be disobeying his commands - his brothers were fighting against him with all their strength. The light emanating from Gabriel seemed to be splitting, as though the other two archangels were separating from him.

With one last surge of strength, Gabriel leapt forward and dove headfirst into the hole in front of him. There were deafening sounds of furious screaming that were quickly swallowed up as the ground closed around them.

There was only silence for a long time, as they all struggled to get their bearings, to reconcile what had just happened.

Y/N was the first to move, running to Dean just as he stood up, and then collapsing in his arms. Dean held her tightly, kissing the top of her head and then cupping her cheeks to kiss her mouth, hard and fast. He pulled away and smiled.

Cas stepped forward to tap his fingers to Dean's forehead, instantly clearing the blood and bruises.

Dean nodded and smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks, Cas.”

He looked back at Y/N and his beautiful eyes and mobile, expressive face were once again his own and Y/N rejoiced.

Dean turned them both to face Sam where he still knelt on the ground. With a quick squeeze, Dean stepped away from her to reach out a hand to his little brother.

Sam hesitated only a moment before he took it and let Dean pull him to his feet. The two men stared at each other for a minute before Dean yanked Sam towards him to wrap the taller man up in a bear hug, his arms wrapping over Sam’s shoulders and clinging tightly.

Sam’s face crumpled slightly and he crushed his brother’s ribs as he hugged him back. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t…” He trailed off, but Dean was shaking his head.

“No, Sam, no.” He pulled back to clap his hand against the side of Sam’s neck. “This isn’t on you.” Sam gave him a look and Dean shook his head. “Well, it’s certainly not all on you. We both fucked up, but we have a chance to fix things now.”

He turned back to Y/N and held his arm out towards her. She stepped forward to take his hand. Dean was beaming as he made the introductions.

“Sam, Y/N, Y/N, Sam.” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean grinned. “Meet my wife.”

Sam’s eyes widened and Y/N gasped. “What?” She squeaked.

Dean shrugged. “Well okay, maybe there’s still the formalities to go through, like the wedding ceremony.”

“And a proposal!” Y/N said, laughing from sheer joy, utter exhaustion and the madness of their new reality.

Dean grinned at her. “You saying you don’t wanna?”

Y/N beamed up at him. “Definitely not saying that.”

Cas interrupted. “Before you start planning the wedding, can we go home?”

Sam looked dazed and spoke softly as though trying to decide if it was all just a dream. “Where is home?”

Dean clapped him on the back. “Camp Chitaqua. You’re gonna love it, Sammy! Trust me. It’s paradise.”

“With outhouses.” Y/N said with a snort.

Sam’s smile was soft, and it suited his kind, handsome face much more than it had ever fit the devil.

“Sounds perfect. Let’s go home.”

Cas stepped forward and in a blink they were back in the field where the spring vegetables were just sprouting - where they could hear the voices of their friends and neighbors, and smell the thick scent of pine and new earth.

There was a cry of shock as the campers saw them all suddenly standing there. Shouts conveyed the message quickly throughout the camp and everyone came running to see their return.

Y/N let out a cry of happiness as she saw Emma racing towards her, her little legs eating up the distance surprisingly fast. As she reached them, Dean scooped her up and pulled Y/N into the circle of his embrace so that the three of them hugged each other tightly.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating and rejoicing, hours of storytelling, and off-key singing around campfires, food shared and enjoyed by everyone.

Eventually, Dean, Y/N and Emma broke away to bring Sam to Dean’s old tent. They lit a lamp and Dean gave Sam the grand tour, pointing the way to the outhouses from there, and assuring him the cot was more comfortable than it looked.

Sam nodded, still looking as though he couldn’t take it all in. Seeing his confusion, Y/N kissed Dean on the cheek and picked up Emma’s hand.

“You boys have so much to catch up on. You should take some time together.”

Sam shook his head. “No, you’ve been away from each other long enough. This reunion should be yours.” He said, nodding at Y/N and Dean. Throughout the day he’d been caught up on how everything went down with Michael and Zachariah.

But Y/N shook her head. “We’ve been apart a week, you’ve been apart for years. You need this time.”

Dean looked down at her, love shining in his gaze, before tossing his brother a smile. “Don’t bother arguing, Sammy, she always wins.”

He bent down and kissed Y/N deeply, making Emma curl her lip.

“Ew.” She said succinctly, and Y/N laughed as she pulled out of the kiss.

She looked at Sam and then moved in for a hug. Sam hugged her back and she beamed up at him.

“I'm so glad to know you, Sam Winchester. Welcome home.”

With that she pulled Emma out of the tent to let the brothers get to know each other again.

Hours and hours later, the camp was finally quiet. A lamp glowed here and there as people slowly settled into their tents for the night. A happy peace settled over the camp, blanketing it in coziness and calm.

Y/N had sung Emma to sleep an hour before and was now stretched out on her own cot. She was planning on waiting for Dean to come back from visiting with his brother. But almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, her absolute exhaustion hit her and she was out immediately.

She woke with a start some time later, and then sighed deeply as she felt Dean’s arms tighten around her. Across the room she could hear Emma’s soft snores and her eyes filled with tears as the reality hit her anew that they were all truly together again, safe and sound. She turned in Dean’s arms so she could face him.

“Dean.” She whispered.

He smiled a sleepy smile and kissed her softly. “You were sleeping so soundly when I got home, I didn’t want to disturb you.” He whispered back, voice craggy with sleep.

“How is Sam?” She asked.

Dean sighed. “He’s okay. Gonna take time for him to be a hundred percent, you know. But he’s here, and he’s smiling, and he’s...Sammy.” He shrugged slightly. “So, that’s enough for now.”

Y/N nodded and wiped away a tear, finally making Dean notice them in the dark. His voice sounded slightly worried as he cupped her cheek and thumbed away the wetness. “Sweetheart, you're crying. Why?”

Y/N shook her head. “Because all my hopes and dreams have come true. We’re together, we’re safe, the camp is safe, the devil’s gone, and we actually have a real chance of remaking the world.”

Dean’s voice voice was a bit choked up too as he responded, grinning. “Yeah, but I don't plan on forgetting that promise you made me. When the world is fixed, we’re coming back here to live out our days in a big log cabin with locking doors and indoor plumbing, right?”

Y/N giggled. “I’m not sure about the indoor plumbing, but everything else is definitely in the cards, I hope.”

Dean pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Well, we’re in the business of hope, so I think our chances are good.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#dean winchster #endverse!dean #endverse!dean fan fic #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #endverse!fan fic series #endverse #the dangers of hope #chapter 10

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leilani-lily · 1 month

Text

~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 10)

The giant chapter won by a landslide 𓁹‿𓁹

9k later. Absolutely wild to me, but here we are (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

I guess it's fitting as we just hit chapter 10!! Double digits lets gooooo~! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

And this also concludes the "Black Market" storyline, so that feels like a good enough reason for this chapter to be super DUPER long >ᴗ<

Also huge thank you to everyone who's been leaving such lovely comments for me ;;w;; I read every single one and try to respond every time (I'm actually behind on a few so if you're waiting I apologize! I'll address them tonight!!) But keep 'em coming if you can! I adore getting anything, even if it's just a single emoji or one word ꨄ

Alright, enough chatter. Let's get into the nitty gritty >ω>

SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You are fully pampered by your deer friend after a harrowing adventure... Word Count: 9k

Chapter under the cut! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The first thing your murky mind picked up on was soft clattering.

Eyelids as heavy as led, you had a hard time opening your eyes; so you opted to keep them shut as you could feel your mind slowly coming back to consciousness.

The next thing you picked up was a mix of smells. There was something in the air that had a chemical like scent, strong and potent that made your nose wrinkle. But there was something else behind the strong synthetic smell. Something like rain, earth, and nature; crisp and clean and oh so soothing.

The final thing you noticed was feeling as if you were laying on a cloud. Your fingers twitched back to life, and the silky satin that practically slipped through your touch had caught you off guard. And whatever pillow your head was resting on was plump and soft, cradling your skull so tenderly.

You laid there in pure bliss for a moment, you mind still groggy from such a deep sleep and just happy to be somewhere that felt so comfy. But as you felt your head sink even further into the bed, a thought crossed your mind.

You didn’t own silk sheets.

Eyes still closed, your brows furrowed.

Your room didn’t smell like this.

You slowly force your eyes open, the world around you still a blur as your eyes adjust. As your body shuffled under the buttery sheets, another scent rose from the pillows and entered your senses. It was something you were so familiar with, and yet, in that moment you couldn’t pin it down. The smell of bourbon, coffee and cedarwood. It took a moment for your dull mind to connect the dots, but eventually you could feel your eyes widen when it finally hit you.

“Comfortable, my dear~?”

And speak of the devil.

You scramble to sit up, but your body immediately screamed in protest, chest aching and limbs sore. You audibly gasped in agony, not understanding why your body was in such excruciating pain. Your head began to swim, and you could feel your upper body swaying precariously. Before your torso even had the chance to fall back, you heard the shuffle of static as clawed hands reached out and caught you, one around your back and one cradling your head. Too absorbed in the pain, you didn’t even notice the long tendrils of shadows behind you, stacking and fluffing up the pillows against the headboard.

“Careful, little songbird,” Alastor softly scolded. A deep chuckle accompanied his next line, “It’s not quite time for you to leave the nest~”

You let out a pathetic whimper of despair as you felt yourself being slowly lowered, but this time your upper body felt more elevated on the bed below you, allowing you to have a better view of your surroundings. Finally adjusted back to the mattress, Alastors arms slipped out from underneath you, and for a brief moment, as his warmth slipped away, you wished that he hadn’t.

God, why was your body aching like this? Why was your head pounding against your skull? Even more so, what was this burning sensation you felt all over your chest? You run a weary hand over your face and flinch back as your fingers traced over your cheek, hissing at the tenderness.

And then it all came flooding back.

A large paw backhanding you, being pinned down and gasping for air, dragged against the harsh pavement and tearing your skin open.

And worst of all. That horrifying image of silver claws slashing your chest.

Your mind reeled with the rush of memories and everything that had happened, like some harrowing nightmare you had just woken up to. But you knew it was all real, you could feel it with every bruise, scrape, and sore muscle. You look down to your hands and shudder upon seeing them still stained red with blood. Most likely a mix of your own and that Dobermans.

Fuzzy memories flashed before your eyes; the sound of his screams, the glimmer of your hair pin, the adrenaline pumping through your heart. You honestly didn’t remember much after seeing the skinny HellHound step out from the shadows with his gun. But you knew in your heart what had happened; what you had done. Something so horrific, you had vowed never to do it again.

But they were going to kill you, amongst other things to you… And they were going to kill Alastor.

You couldn’t live with yourself if you had let him get hurt.

You attempted to take a grounding breath of air, this flood of horrible memories making you lightheaded, but winced as your lungs attempted to expand. Your chest felt tight and heavy, like you were being constricted. You feared to look down; look at the mess that was left behind after the battle. But you had to know what you were dealing with. So with some hesitation, you finally lift the silk sheet and peek down at your body.

The first thing you noticed was three long gashes stretched across your torso from the bottom of your stomach to the top of your collarbone. But to your relief, they seemed to be already sewn shut, little stitches of what appeared to be neon green thread closing your deep wounds, the blood already cleaned off of sanitized skin.

But the second thing…

Your eyes widened to dinner plates upon realizing you were practically naked in Alastor’s bed, save for your underwear… Which wasn’t the same pair you were wearing earlier.

A choked cough escaped your lungs, suddenly scrambling to pull the sheets tight around your bare body and your cheeks burning red. Alastor, who had been shuffling around in the first aid kit beside him, didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes lazily drifted back up to you. You looked back at him, mortified, and to this Alastor simply cocked an eyebrow. You tried to take a deep, calming breath.

“Alastor…” you warned, “Where the fuck are my clothes?”

The deer demon sitting by his bed blinked for a moment, his eyes eventually going back to his previous task. Though his eyebrows furrowed as he replied with a tight smile.

“Hm. Not even a thank you for the craftsmanship I did? Those stitches are some of my best work…”

“ALASTOR.”

“Oh please, y/n, do be rational.” Alastor huffed, cocking an eyebrow at you. “All of your garments were in ruin; they had to be disposed of. Besides,” he gestured his hand to your torso, “I needed access to stitch your wounds to prevent further blood loss. Would you have preferred that I let you bleed out?”

You both stared at each other for a good minute before it all became too much. You groaned in embarrassment, bringing the sheets up to cover your face and secretly wanting the bed to swallow you whole. You knew deep down he was right; as always. And you truly were grateful for his care. But still… You imagined him working over you, your chest bare and exposed as his hands brushed up against your skin, fingers dangerously close and skillfully sewing.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you once again whined in defeat, fully bringing the blanket over your head and vowing never to leave your fortress. You heard a mix of a sigh and a chuckle from beyond the sheets, static shuffling in the background.

“Such dramatics. Makes me think you’ve been taking lessons from our Arachnid fellow~”

A clawed hand grasped the top of the blanket, and after meeting some resistance from you, pulled it down so only your head was visible again, your hair now slightly disheveled. Alastor's expression had softened from annoyed to calm as he shook his head at you.

“I can assure you,” he mused, “that you should not worry over such things. I do not perceive people in such a way. The body is simply a machine of flesh and bone to fulfill the duties of the mind, nothing more.” He placed a hand on your cloth-covered knee, making you peek up at him tentatively, “You can trust me on that my dear.”

You could tell how sincere he was about this, his eyes never left yours as he spoke. And of course, you knew he would never put himself in this kind of situationship unless it was absolutely necessary. He was too much of a true gentleman. You could feel your heartbeat start to calm after his reassurance, and you give a little embarrassed nod to acknowledge him.

Nevertheless, you still felt a bit too exposed sitting here in just your panties, and only a thin sheet of silk to cover you.

“... I want a shirt at least.” you mumbled, looking down to avoid his gaze. Alastor straightened up in his chair and blinked.

“I don’t see the point my dear…” he said blankly, eye twitching. “I’ve already seen everything. Besides, you are already covered enough to-!”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, trying to hold back your own irritation. “I would just feel better if I had an extra layer. Please.”

The Overlord glared at you a moment longer before sighing and rising to his feet. He promptly began to unbutton his jacket, making your face fall open like a deer in the headlights. Before you could accuse him of anything, he rolled the blazer off his shoulders and flung it at your head. His smell laced in his jacket immediately overtook your senses, and you had to hold back the urge to bury your face in it. You didn’t dare to pull it down past your cheeks; you didn’t want him seeing just how red you were underneath.

Alastor stood before you in a red vest adorning the similar pinstripes that were on his jacket, his vest hugging his frame perfectly as if tailored just for his torso. The demon’s smile was tight and sharp, clearly annoyed as his ears flattened against his head and he straightened his undershirt. The long sleeved blouse was a crisp white, flaring out ever so slightly near his elbows and wrists. You were so grateful to be hiding behind his jacket at this very moment. You had never seen Alastor without his blazer on, so this was all very new to you. Soon enough his head turned back to you, and you immediately averted your gaze back to his face; heaven forbid he caught you gawking.

He placed his hands on his hips, looking at you expectantly with a cocked eyebrow and smile tense. You could feel yourself begin to sweat under his deep gaze and eventually dropped your own.

“T-turn around…” you mumble, you grip on his jacket tightening. You heard the sound of a microphone screeching.

“Of all the-” Alastor sighed heavily, his tone clearly beyond annoyed, “I’ve already seen-!”

“GOD DAMNIT ALASTOR JUST DO IT!!”

You didn’t even realize what you had done until you heard a soft ‘fwump’ sound from across the room. Alastors static waves immediately hushed, and you instantly knew you had fucked up. You lowered your outstretched arm and immediately hid under his blanket and jacket, not even daring to look up.

Cause you knew, if you did, you’d find one of his pillows that you threw at him had comically flattened over Alastor’s face, eventually flopping to the ground with a final ‘womph’.

You couldn’t tell what was happening outside of your little fortress; the silence was practically deafening. But eventually, you saw the lights flicker as radio waves shuffled through the air sharply. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the sudden increase of electricity buzzing through the air. The bed was practically vibrating. But after a period of time, the lights stopped flickering, and the radio buzzing became dull and back to its usual tone. Still too chickenshit to emerge, you heard him stomp around the bed with some soft clattering.

“I am going to get some hot water to clean your wounds,” you heard him growl, “Do not, by any means, put my jacket on fully. I still need access to your arms.” You heard more shuffling, and soon his footsteps pound away and towards the bathroom door.

“Simply drape it over your body, since heaven forbid I catch another glimpse at your naked form.” his last sentence was dripping with sarcasm.

And even though you were beyond embarrassed, you couldn’t help the nervous snort escape your lips at his tone. He was so done with your bullshit, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You knew you were being ridiculous at this point given there really was no point in covering up. And the fact that you had whacked the Radio Demon with a pillow…

You buried your head deeper in Alastor’s jacket, muffling your soft awkward giggles as the sheets you were under jiggled along with your shoulders. There was a pause before you heard an irritated sigh, heeled boots retreating into the bathroom and the sound of water running moments later.

You continued to tee-hee under the sheets, eventually catching your breath and emerging from your cocoon, still clutching the blazer close. You quickly glanced back towards the bathroom, and realizing you still had a couple seconds, brought the clothing up to your nose and inhaled deeply.

It was just like his pillow, but much stronger, and even had a sweaty, musky smell to it. You realized you probably looked like an absolute freak at this moment; who the Hell goes around smelling their friend’s clothes?? But this scent had become such a comfort, you were reminded of happier times. Like the moments when he’d lean in to whisper gossip into your ear during hotel meetings, when he purposely got too close in your bubble to annoy you and crack a terrible joke, or when he danced with you that one day. You were always at your happiest when you were with him.

You sighed contently as you draped the jacket over your torso, thankfully it being long enough to cover you right down to your mid thighs. You pulled the silk sheet back up over you just in time to hear a soft knock on the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Am I allowed back into my own room?” Alastor called out dryly. You chuckled a moment before confirming, and soon Alastor emerged, face still cross, no doubt still fuming over the previous incident. He carried a large bowl filled with bubbly, steaming water in both hands and had a small towel draped over his shoulder. He came to the bedside and placed the bowl down on the nightstand before turning back around to the first aid kit. And you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your throat once his backside was to you.

No. Fucking. Way.

Immediately, Alastor’s ears flattened on his head, turning only his head so you could see the profile of his face as he glared at you.

“ ₩ Ⱨ ₳ ₮ ”

You snap out of your gaze and lock eyes with him, brain quickly trying to come up with an excuse.

“Nothing! Nothing, I just…” With a quick smile, you go to grab your shoulder and rotate it around a bit. “I moved funny and felt a pang in my joint. That’s all.”

You continue to try and dazzle him with your smile, to which he glowered at you before turning his attention back to the first aid kit. You felt your muscles relax, relieved he had bought your little white lie. Because you knew if you had spoken the truth, you’d never get to see it again.

See the adorable, soft, fluffy, black and red tail poking out from his tailbone.

You focus back on it and basically have to bite your tongue to stop from squealing. It didn’t even occur to you that he might even have one, but of course it made sense that he did. He was a deer demon after all, many animalistic demons here had just the like. But of course when he wore his jacket it was covered up. You were fairly certain it was designed as such so it helped him keep up appearances. It's hard to be terrified of an Overlord with a cute, little fuzzy tail.

God. How badly you wanted to touch it; similar to his ears looking so downey and full. But of course, you snapped out of your daydream once Alastor turned back to you, a box of bandaids in hand and his tail disappearing behind his back. You had to hold back your pout, but you were at least grateful you even got the chance to see it. You had the feeling not many did.

“Now, my dear,” Alastor spoke up, taking the towel from his shoulder and soaking it in the hot water, “Since your main injury has finally been tended to, I’d like to continue my medical procedure before I was so rudely interrupted.” His eyes narrowed into angry slits at you, and you knew he was referring to what happened earlier. You desperately tried to bite back your smile, but couldn’t help your shaking shoulders as you nodded your head.

“Yes.” you softly giggle, “Yes of course. Thank you Alastor.”

The Radio Demon’s nose wrinkled up in disgust at you before he gave a final sigh, turning back to the bowl and wringing out the excess water in the towel.

“Honestly… All of this nonsense…” he huffed, genuinely looking confused and slightly irritated, “I don’t understand all the fuss over this type of matter…” Alastor held his hand out to you expectantly, and it took you a moment to realize before you reached out. He carefully held your wrist in one hand, his other holding the warm towel and rubbing your arm. Whatever bloodstains that had soaked into your skin were slowly coming off, and that was more of a relief than you had imagined.

“Even Miss Morningstar had a similar reaction to yours when I first began undressing you.” Alastor continued, carefully turning your arm over and wiping away more blood, “Wild little firecracker, that girl. Nearly singed my jacket and everything…” His eyes tapered into angry slits, yet his words made you perk up.

“Charlie? … Oh God, she knows?”

“Hmmm. Unfortunately.” Alastor sighed, his grin tight. He dipped the now bloodied cloth into the bowl and squeezed before returning to your arm, “And after her banshee screeches of terror, it wasn’t long before everyone else found out and came rushing over.” His eyelid began to twitch in annoyance, but you felt your skin prickle. Everyone… came rushing over? For you?

“Alastor… what exactly happened while I was unconscious?”

The deer demon rolled his eyes, making you think the event was troubling for him. He turned your wrist over in his hand, giving your forearm an inspection.

“Must we really talk about such matters?” he grumbled, eyes narrowing angrily at your wrists as bruises were slowly revealed underneath the blood, “It’s all in the past, and I’d much rather focus on tending to you.”

He had said it so matter of factly, it made your cheeks warm for a moment. Still, a part of you wanted to fill in the gaps as to what happened. And more selfishly, you wanted to hear what the others' reactions were.

“Please Al,” you urged, “I need to know.”

He took a moment to look up and lock eyes with you, eyes flickering over your pitiful face. Finally, he huffed out a sigh, his shoulders dropping in defeat before lifting your hand back up to his face, carefully taking each individual finger and rubbing it between the towel to get into the nooks and crannies of your digits.

“When you passed out, I immediately transported us to my room,” he began, eyes never leaving his work, “I knew I needed to work quickly to tend to the gashes on your chest; the blood loss was becoming dangerously fatal. So, I laid you on the bed and did what any medical professional would have done: began to undress you.”

You knew he was literally just trying to save your life, but still, you felt your face grow hot at the thought of Alastor taking your dress off. The deer demon continued.

“Unfortunately, I was in the most precarious position when Miss Morningstar decided to waltz in.” Alastor’s eyelid twitched angrily as he set the towel back in the bowl, reaching now for a bottle of ointment and squeezing some cream into his hand.

“I was in the midst of reaching behind to take off your…” his eyes flicked away awkwardly, “brassiere, when our little Princess of Hell came in unbenounced. She later claimed she wanted to ask me a question; as to why she didn’t think to knock, I will never know…” Alastor sighed through his nose before gently taking your arm and dabbing the ointment on your various cuts and bruises scattered on your hand and arm.

“Of course,” he scowled, “looking back I can understand where her fury came from. Seeing the infamous Radio Demon lurched over your unconscious, barely dressed form; both of us soaked in blood… I’m sure it was quite a sight.” Surprisingly, he let out a chuckle as you just watched him horrified.

“Ironically, all Hell broke loose.” he sighed, explaining the next portion as if he was bored, “She screamed at me, I tried to explain, she shot fire at me, I dodged. At some point I finally managed to get through to her amidst the blaze and explain the situation. Once she had calmed down, she immediately dropped her fury and rushed to your side, shedding tears over your injuries and blabbering her apologies to me.” Alastor rolled his eyes, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest at the thought of Charlie crying for you. It made your own eyes start to get a little misty.

“It wasn’t long before everyone else began pounding at the door, having heard the ruckus and coming to aid their precious Princess… No one coming to my aid mind you.” he grunted, “Charlie, wanting to save face, threw the sheets over you for cover before the riled crew bust down the door. And honestly my dear, you know how much I love dramatics, but this…” he gave you a deadpan look for a moment before rolling his eyes, making a giggle escape your lips. His smile widened as he finished rubbing the last bits of cream into your skin before reaching for the box of bandaids.

“I had never seen this camaraderie of sinners so riled up before,” he confided, taking a bandaid out of the box and unwrapping it with his sharp claws, “The moment they saw you in bed, then looked at me covered in blood, I was sure they all wanted me dead.” he paused a second before adding, “Well, other than Nifty. I’m sure she just wanted to clean my soiled clothes when she tried to jump me.” The imagery of Nifty attempting to tackle Alastor made you smile.

“Thankfully,” the Overlord breathed, gently sticking the bandaid over one of your larger cuts, “Miss Morningstar stepped in and explained everything before anyone could lay a finger on me. Which is probably for the best…” His smile got dangerous, a mischievous glint in his eye, “Because if I had my way, they wouldn’t have any fingers left at all.”

You gasped and shot Alastor a dirty glare, making him shift his eyes over to you. He gave a quick shrug of his shoulders before reaching for the bandaids again.

“And then, of course, the waterworks began.” Alastor said wearily, as if the thought of emotions exhausted him, “The Snake was nearly beside himself, blubbering almost as hard as Charlie was. Vaggie sat beside you on the bed like a worried mother hen. Even our little Sourpuss seemed upset over it all. And of course, our dear Nifty tried licking up the blood on your face in an attempt to clean it.” Alastor looked off in the distance fondly at the memory, meanwhile your nose wrinkled in surprise and slight disgust.

“Our little arachnid friend was especially distraught,” Alastor continued, his face slowly hardening, “He immediately ran to your side and held your hand. He kept going back and forth between comforting you, then scolding me for allowing such things to happen…” you couldn’t help but notice Alastor’s eyebrows furrowing at his last statement, his grin extra tight on his face. Was he feeling… guilty? You were just about to address it until Alastor kept talking, his expression once again soft and rather bored looking.

“Given that you still needed stitches, I managed to convince everyone to leave so I could have space to work.” He stuck another bandaid on one of your cuts, “Charlie was quick to action, ordering everyone around to grab whatever materials I needed. First aid, ice, towels, fresh clothes, and so on. I allowed the girls access to the room so they could help you change into fresh underwear while I prepared my medical supplies.” Alastor took your arm once more and meticulously inspected it, turning it over in his hands to ensure every inch was clean and addressed.

“Then finally, I was able to dismiss everyone from my quarters. I’m sure they’re all nervously pacing in the lobby as we speak.” he shook his head before gently setting your arm on the bed and ending the story. The Radio Demon took a moment to stretch before standing up once more, taking the bowl and bandaids and moving to the other side of the bed.

You sat there dumbfounded, taking in all the information and feeling yourself getting emotional. They were so quick to protect you, so quick to mourn what you had been through, so quick to take care and provide for you...

Alastor rounded the mattress and set the soapy water down on the bedside table, not expecting to turn back to you with big, watery droplets dripping down your face. He couldn’t help the tiny curl of his lips. Startled by your reaction? Yes.

Surprised?

No. Not at all.

He hummed to himself, taking the washcloth out from the bowl and giving it a quick squeeze before lifting your other arm.

“You have quite the village behind you my dear,” he mused, carefully wiping your forearm. You blinked back your tears and turned to him, taking a moment to watch him scrub you clean. He was entirely focused on you, brows slightly furrowed as he removed the blood, eyes flicking over your skin and taking note of every scratch and bruise that was revealed. He was so serious about it all, taking his time to ensure you were taken care of and personally tending to every wound he could find. Your heart swelled deep within your chest, and before you think, you twist your wrist around in his grasp and lock fingers with his. Alastor’s eyes widened in shock, head wiping up to look at you.

“I really do,” you breathed, eyes still misty but grin beaming, “And I'm so grateful for all of them.” You give his hand a squeeze, leaning in closer and never breaking eye contact.

“Especially for you. I am so so grateful for you, Alastor. Thank you.”

The deer demon looked up at you, his whole face wide and smile threatening to waver. There was a gentle pause as you both watched each other, your hand gently grasping his and tenderly rubbing your thumb over his knuckle. Eventually, Alastor blinked back his shock, face furrowing as he unlaced your fingers with his and took your wrist in his hand.

“There’s nothing to thank, my dear.” he mumbled, continuing to rub your arm with the soapy water, “Just doing what any gentleman should.”

Your grin widened by his sudden shift, not at all put off by his dismissive response. He didn’t handle genuine affection well, and that was ok. It just made you more determined than ever to be that person for him; to slowly chip away at those walls he had built up around his heart. Alastor placed the cloth back into the bowl, once again reaching for the ointment now that your arm was perfectly clean. He was being so attentive; you couldn’t help it. You had to say it.

“Your mother would be so proud.”

Alastor paused only briefly as he was squeezing the ointment onto his fingers. But he was quick to recover, snapping the lid shut and carefully pulling your arm closer to dab the cream onto your wounds. He said nothing in return, remaining quiet and looking down as he rubbed the balm into your skin.

But you did notice his ear flicker.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Alastor continued his tending, the room falling into a peaceful silence as his static hummed softly in the background. He finished your other arm, slicking bandages when needed and returning to the bathroom to refresh the water bowl. You took a moment to admire his work on your arms and couldn’t help the smile creep up your face. The thought of Alastor taking care of you… It was honestly something that seemed so sweet and intimate, and certainly not anything the Radio Demon himself would do. An Overlord nursing a lowly sinner? Unthinkable. Yet here you were, wrapped up in his silk sheets and being doted on as if you were a queen.

You heard soft jazz beginning to play in the bathroom, and soon Alastor emerged with a bowl of fresh, sudsy water. He rounds the mattress and positions himself at the end of the bed, causing you to raise an eyebrow at his new location. It wasn’t until the deer demon started lifting the blankets by your feet that you subconsciously flinched back. Of course, Alastor noticed, his eyes locking with yours immediately.

“I noticed earlier you had quite a few scrapes on your legs,” he explained, his voice surprisingly calm, “It would be wise to let me examine them.”

You exhaled the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, feeling your shoulders begin to relax. You give a quick nod, and Alastor lifts the sheets up, uncovering your legs right up until the base of your hips, tucking the sheets in a way so your lap and torso was still fully covered. Alastor took in the state of your lower limbs, and his brows furrowed angrily at the sight. Similar to your arms, they were in such an abused state… It made his blood boil to see you like this.

He immediately sat down and took one of your legs in his, resting your foot on his thigh as he began to clean up the dirt and dried blood. You had to hold in a gasp at the feeling of his fingers brushing over your calf and thigh. You weren't accustomed to the idea of someone touching your leg in such a way, especially the Radio Demon of all people. As nice as the warm towel was, you still felt a smidge uncomfortable by this circumstance. Of course, nothing got past Alastor.

“Relax my dear,” he mused, not breaking concentration from his work, “Your muscles are far too tense right now.” He stopped for a moment, eyes dazing out in front of him as if a thought came to mind. In an instant, he returned the cloth back to the bowl and snapped his fingers, a bottle of lotion popping into his hand. He was quick to apply it to his hands, and what he did next almost floored you.

Long fingers gently began to knead over your calf, pinching and pressing in such a lovely way your heart almost leapt out of your throat. He ran his hands and fingers gently up and down your leg, being wary around any open sores or bruises, but massaging your muscles deeply. Whatever tension you had immediately melted away, his claws surprisingly delicate as he rubbed the tissue. Your head immediately flopped back down on your pillow, eyes closed in bliss as a deep, staticy chuckle rang out by your feet. After working your leg, he moved down to your foot and began massaging your arch and sole. You audibly let out a sigh of relief, it felt so damn good.

“Alastor,” you breathed dreamily, “Where the Hell did you learn to do this and who do I owe my first born to?” Another chortle came from the foot of the bed.

“Entirely self taught darling~” you heard him muse, “My dear mother was always on her feet, working long hours and coming home simply exhausted. As a boy I’d often try and help alleviate the pain whenever I could, so nightly massages became routine. It wasn’t much, but it put my mother in better spirits, so that was what mattered to me.”

You felt your heart practically melt, you were so touched by his words. She really was everything to him; what an amazing relationship to have. You try to imagine Alastor as a little boy, dancing with his mother, helping her around the house, tending to her when she was weary. Truly a momma’s boy right to the end.

“Your mom sounds absolutely incredible.” you smile, voice soft and gentle. “I wish I could’ve met her…”

Alastor didn’t respond right away, continuing to rub away at your foot as jazz played softly in the background. You assumed the conversation had ended and you were content with letting your mind drift. But at the last minute, you heard a thoughtful hum come from the end of the bed.

“As do I mon passereau… As do I.”

He treated your legs in a similar fashion to your arms; wiping them clean of dirt and blood, applying ointment to help sooth your open wounds, and applying bandages wherever there were particularly large cuts and scrapes. You let out a happy sigh when he started to massage the other leg as well, earning another amused snicker from your friend. The jazz hummed softly in the background as Alastor worked away, being attentive as always and focusing on his tasks while you relaxed blissfully. You were more than happy to let your body sink into the bed, never feeling so cherished in your entire life. The minutes trickled by, your mind getting sleepy after such a relaxing pampering. The only thing that would make this perfect is if you had a warm beverage to sip on.

………….

“Oh my God ALASTOR!” You practically leapt up from the bed, nearly kicking the poor man right on the chin as your feet flew up. The radio came to a screeching halt as Alastor jumped back to avoid getting socked in the jaw. He whipped his head up to you, his eyes glowing red as he snarled at you. But you ignored him, your eyes looking around the room frantically.

“My bag!” you whine, “Did you happen to grab my bag before we left??”

You couldn’t believe you had almost forgotten. That damn siphon was the whole fucking reason all of this had happened! That and your stupidity for leaving Alastor’s side, but you were going to scold yourself for that later. For now, you needed to know it was ok and totally not lost somewhere in the streets of the city.

Alastor’s lip twitched, shooting you a most hateful glare. He took a deep, calming breath through his nose before exhaling slowly. Face now softer, other than his furrowed brows and lidded eyes, he stood up and walked away without another word. You watched him nervously as he walked to the nightstand, but felt your heart bloom when he pulled your bag out from the blindspot beside the table.

“I simply do not understand why you were so desperate for me to grab this for you,” he sneered, tossing the plastic bag onto the bed, “There were much more pressing matters at stake, surely whatever you purchased couldn’t have been that important.”

You ignored his angry tone, grabbing the bag with relief, “I can’t believe you understood what I said in the alley!” you laughed, taking the box out of the bag and beginning to open it. Your heart was racing with joy, but a part of you was filled with dread. You had dropped it before you were attacked, and now you were praying it didn’t get damaged in the fall. The thought of going through all that for a gift that was broken before you had a chance to give it to him? That would be tragic.

You felt an unusual electric buzz shift in the air as you picked away at the lid of the package.

“Pardon my confusion,” Alastor spoke, his eyes flickering over the box in your hands, “but I was under the impression you left to shop for new clothes...” His eyes snapped up to you, lifting his hand to point a claw at the box, “This does not look like clothing to me.”

Oops.

You look up briefly and give him a sheepish smile, before focusing back on your task, fingers finally opening the box. “Ah. Right, well…” you could feel yourself start to sweat, “I may or may not have… told the whole truth about-!”

“So you lied to me.” Alastor was fully glaring at you, the radio shuffling and fizzing dangerously. His smile was taut and eyes cold, eyelid twitching; but you couldn’t see him, too busy focused on digging around the bubble wrap.

“I mean,” you mumbled embarrassingly, “Technically I did, yes, but-!”

“But. What. Y/n.” Alastor growled, his fingers scrunching into tight fists, eyes flashing crimson red, “First you attempt to go off on your own when I explicitly told you not to, and now I come to discover the reason you left was under false terms?”

Still unaware of Alastor’s current state, you manage to uncover the siphon just enough to peek at it. After gently shuffling it around with your finger, you felt your shoulders relax as a relieved smile broke out on your face.

“Oh thank God,” you breathe, more to yourself than to Alastor, “It didn’t break… I was-!”

Alastor’s hands slammed on the bed on either side of you, making you jump up at the sound. Too focused on the gift in your lap, you didn’t realize he had crawled up on the bed with you, leaning over your body and kneeling over your legs. You shrinked back in fear as the lights flickered, his static buzzing and the room growing cold. His horns were fully extended, but his head was bent forward, his hair covering his expression.

“You had almost died y/n.” his voice was uncomfortably calm, but you could tell his tone was deeper, darker and sharper than usual. His head slowly rose so you could just see his glowing eyes peek out from his bangs. His eyes were a raging scarlet with sharp, black dial pupils. His fingers curled up into tight fists, clutching the sheets beneath him.

“Do you not fully understand that?” he continued, eyes narrowing into furious slits, “If it weren’t for me you’d still be bleeding out in that fucking alley way.” his eyes were practically burning you, his stare was so intense, so enraged; you were shivering under his hateful gaze. You would almost prefer it if he yelled at you, screamed and kicked and went on a rampage. But the chiling, silent fury he had… it scared you more. You had to look away, it was too much. But that didn’t stop Alastor.

“I thought you to be smarter than this.” he seethed, lifting his head up more and showing his sharp, tight smile, yellowed teeth almost as bright as his eyes in this darkened room. His eyes snapped to the box in your lap and immediately he reached down and took it out of your shaking hands. He inspected it for a moment, the anger emanating from him soon growing as he looked back up to you. He then waggled it in front of you tauntingly, his tone growing more aggressive and frenzied.

“Was this really worth risking your life for?” he sneered, his head tilting so much it caused his neck to snap as he leaned in closer, “Do you not realize how much your life is worth to these fools in this damn hotel? How much it means to-!”

He immediately stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening for a moment. The air was heavy for a solid second before his face scrunched up in fury and his pupils focusing down at the package in his grasp.

“Well then, dearest,” he spat the last word out, the pet name sounding more like an insult than anything. In an instant he sat up, kneeling over your legs and claws pulling the bubble wrapped object out of the box. His eyes flicked back up to you, to which you still looked away, before peeling the wrapping off of the mysterious item.

“Let’s take a look at what possessed you to risk life and limb, shall we~?”

Stripping the foreign object of its confines, the Radio Demon felt his face widen once the item was revealed. Almost instantly, the radio buzzing silenced, the lights flicked back to normal, and the room became deathly silent. The air was still as Alastor looked down at the siphon, something that brought a wave of memories along with it just at the mere sight. Could it really be…? A hesitant claw slowly reached down and thumbed the smooth glass, eyes dumbly blinking back to normal and his horns slowly shrank.

There was a heavy pause as Alastor processed the sudden turn of events. But eventually, he managed to slowly lift his head back up to you.

And the sight before him made his stomach churn.

Big salty tears streamed down your face, your hands scrunched in balls around his jacket that you held up tight to your face. Your eyes were downcast and not daring to look up at him.

You felt so stupid for crying, but you couldn’t help it. He had never been this angry towards you. Sure you had pissed him off before, but those were under different, more sillier circumstances. He had actually hurt your feelings this time, and what made it worse was that you knew he was right. You knew your actions had not only caused you harm, but had hurt everyone, even Alastor given his reactions. His facial expressions throughout the whole treatment was enough proof, along with the tender aftercare. And the rage that flowed from him just now; clearly the thought of you dying had affected him more than he intended to let on. For fuck sakes, Alastor almost died because of your stupid mistake. You felt your shoulders start to shake.

“I-I know you were still trying to b-brew the perfect cup,” you start to hiccup under your breath, your voice coming out in shaky warbles, “I-I just wanted to h-help… I d-didn’t mean t-to…”

You started fully sobbing, burning your face in Alastor’s jacket and unable to stop your tears.

Alastor didn’t dare to breathe, thinking if he did it might make you blow away into dust with how fragile you were. Usually seeing someone looking so pitiful brought him such delight. But this… This felt wrong. Not from you. Not his little songbird. He had never seen you so upset before, and it was unsettling. You were nothing but a joy around the hotel and its staff, and as much as he hated to admit it, a joy to him. Like a moth to a flame, you were that beacon that brought together wayward souls and made them feel better. And he had snuffed that.

Your pain was his fault, and for the first time in nearly a decade, he didn’t wish it to be so.

“Don’t cry my dear,” he spoke softly, unsure what to say or do with his hands, “I see now that I was… wrong in my accusations.” He swallowed dryly, his mouth feeling like sandpaper. How does someone attempt to comfort a person in distress? He couldn’t remember the last time he was in such a position, not since he descended at the very least…

“But you’re not wrong.” You sob, voice becoming more frantic, “It w-was stupid for me to go off on my own; if you weren’t th-there I would have died!” your misty eyes widened in horror as the previous events came spiraling back into your mind. “God, I almost died… And you… You almost d-died because of me.” A new wave of tears came flooding through, guilt clawing through your chest and making you hyperventilate. Alastor stiffened at your down spiral, eyes flicking over you nervously.

“Y/n, it’s alright.” He gently put the siphon down on the bed, raising his hands in a defensive state as if attempting to tame a wild animal. “True, things got… disorderly back there, but we’re no longer in any danger.” A thought popped into his mind and his face brightened slightly, “Also, keep in mind that you also saved my life earlier today. You were practically on death’s door and yet you still risked everything to come to my aid. Such an honorable deed can’t go unnoticed.” He gave you a calming smile, surely convinced that his words would help make you feel better. But your breathing simply became more erratic, too absorbed in your own thoughts to comprehend his.

“B-but all of this was my fault! What I did, the t-trouble I caused… You should hate me after all of this!” You felt like your heart was being crushed after that last sentence, the thought not once occurring to you until this very moment. Would he even want to be your friend anymore after all of this?

You grasped onto your scalp as your head began to pound, feeling yourself begin to shut down with panic. Your breathing became labored as you shut your eyes tight, your whole body still aching with pain, yet it felt like nothing compared to the dark thoughts swirling in your mind. The reality of everything that had happened was too much. You felt yourself sinking into a dark place, and you were ready to let it consume you…

Until you felt clawed hands gently cup your cheeks, warm and gentle and so familiar. They urged you to lift your head, but you were scared. You didn’t want to look, didn’t dare to meet him in the eye and see his hateful face again. But so tired with tears, you allow your head to be lifted, eyes red and stinging with hurt. Siphon aside on the bed and already forgotten, Alastor’s face leaned in close to yours, watching over your face with sad, furrowed brows and eyes unable to meet yours.

“Please stop crying,” he whispered, his voice soft and the radio filter barely audible. “I... I can’t stand to see you like this…” His pupils dared to flick up at you as his thumb gently wiped away your tears, desperate to do something, anything, to make you stop. You sat there frozen for a moment, shocked by his actions and sentiment. You had never seen the Radio Demon looking so… vulnerable. It shocked you enough to snap you from your hyperventilating, but in a way, just made your heart break even more. Eventually, his comforting touch made you melt into his hands, tears still pouring down your cheeks.

“I-I’m so sorry Al,” you blubber, your own hands reaching out to hold onto his wrists for support, “It’s all my f-fault… I’m s-so so sorry…” Alastor softly began to hush you, pulling your face closer to his so you were only inches away from each other. A soft, albeit hesitant chuckle escaped from his lips.

“I should’ve known you'd do something so reckless for the sake of a kind gesture,” he mused, but his expression became serious again as his gaze went back to your face, “Reguardless, you shouldn’t apologize for doing something so thoughtful…” He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else, his eyes flickering away as if hesitant. After a pause, he finally spoke: “If anything, I should be the one apologizing-!”

Immediately you flinched back, aghast by his words. Alastor? Apologizing? You never thought you’d live to see the day. Plus he had nothing to apologize for?! Alastor, still holding your face, recognized your expression and continued before you could interrupt him again.

“Let me finish.” he cocked an eyebrow, his grin threatening to spread in amusement before becoming somber again, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. And I definitely shouldn’t have let you venture on your own in the market, your injuries are my fault.” his eyes flicked to your hands and you noticed his slight grimace, “I promised you my protection… and I failed you. And for that I am sorry.”

Your lower lip trembled at his words. Alastor wasn’t the type to apologize for his actions (or lack of in certain circumstances). So for him to actually respect you enough to say such things… It was flooring. And completely heartwarming.

Your breathing had slowly calmed, no longer hyperventilating, but still sniffling in his hands. Alastor softly began to hush you, his electricity buzzing quietly in the background. He wiped your tears away gently with his thumb, making your heart feel like it was going to burst. He was being so kind, so caring…

“... Does this m-mean we’re still friends?” you croak, terrified of his answer. To your relief, Alastor immediately pulled your head closer, pressing his forehead up against yours and running his thumbs tenderly over your soft cheeks and wiping away the new teardrops that formed. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“Oh, my darling,” he breathed, “No matter how many times you may get on my nerves, it’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me~” his scarlet pupils were locked on yours, unwavering as if looking right into your soul.

You were whimpering under his hands, feeling yourself sink into him and the relief that he wasn’t going to leave you. You blink back your final tears and close your eyes, happy to just rest your forehead against his and live in this bittersweet moment. Alastor didn’t seem to move away either, subconsciously squeezing your one uninjured cheek like a little stress toy, which made your lips curl into a soft smile. Your body finally calmed, you matched your breathing pattern with his, helping to ground you. Your hands still grasping his wrists, you slowly trace your thumb over his skin in a comforting motion. You felt the familiar muted burn of where the ‘X’ on his forehead would be against your own, something that you were slowly getting accustomed to feeling since meeting him. The room fell silent as you both sat on the bed, minds equally wandering with flickers of thoughts, but also just content to just be in each other’s presence.

After a peaceful couple of minutes, Alastor nudged your head a bit with his own before pulling away, pushing off his straddling position over you and opting to sit on the edge of the bed beside you, torso still turned to your direction. His hands softly trailed away from your face, but one lightly trailed down your arm until it was holding your hand.

“I’m flattered that you went to such lengths to get me something so wonderful,” he smiled, eyes looking over at the siphon before returning to you. Like the many ways he had done before, he lifted it up close to his face, looking down at it for a moment before focusing back on your face.

“It’s something I will treasure for as long as I breathe… Thank you, mon passereau~”

He bowed his head and closed his eyes, bringing your hand up closer. You sighed happily, closing your eyes with relief that it had all worked out, and fully expecting to soon feel that familiar warmth of his forehead against the back of your hand.

But when you felt a warm pair of lips press down instead, you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

He pressed your hand up to his mouth, warm and soft, eyes closed but a soft expression on his face. The delicate kiss against your skin caused a shiver to zip up your spine, your heart hammering in your chest harder than ever before.

He’s kissing you. He’s kissing you?? He's kissing you. Do friends kiss each other? Wait, why are you thinking about that. Focus y/n. It’s just on the hand. A friendly kiss on the hand. People do that. Gentlemen do that. Alastor’s a gentleman. This is normal. This is fine. Everything is fine.

His lips slowly parted from your hand, face hovering over your skin and looking up at you with lowered lids and grin wide. His pupils flickered across your burning cheeks, his cheshire grin spreading devilishly before locking on your eyes. As your heart slowly calmed down, you eventually huffed a sigh through your nose, shaking your head in defeat but smiling all the same.

You give his hand a quick squeeze of affection before lifting your hand out of his grasp and cupping his face delicately. Looking at him endearingly, you stroke your thumb carefully over his face, causing the Radio Demon to cock an eyebrow but not saying anything.

And just as he was beginning to relax under your touch, you squish his cheeks and gently, playfully, shove his face away from you.

And the deep rumbling laughter that came from his chest was like music to your ears. “That’s my girl,” he chuckled, eyes wrinkled with happiness, “Now my dear, why don't I show you what quality coffee tastes like~?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

FIRST PREVIOUS NEXT (Coming soon)

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((EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL SINNERS!! TYSM!! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ ))

#leilani-lily #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oh deer #alastor the radio demon

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