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certaimromance · 12 days

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𝜗𝜚 Cherry Picking.

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: After your first night with Spencer, you wake up and see that he's left you two dollars and a thank-you note on your bedside table.

Words: 2,3k.

TW: lots of mentions and references to sex, but nothing completely explicit. the reader is quite dramatic and has little faith in men (literally me, sorry). chaos and lack of communication but happy ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This idea just came to me out of the blue, and I have to say that Sex and the City has had a bit of an influence. I love the chaos, the conversations between friends, and Spencer being the best man in the world (I'm picturing him kind of like in his season four version).

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Saturday afternoon

“Two dollars?!”

Penelope's and JJ's simultaneous exclamations and surprised faces when you finished speaking were pretty much to be expected. They noticed a change in your expression and took a moment to compose themselves, as did the rest of the people in the room, who glanced curiously at your table from time to time. It was certainly a fascinating sight, three women having an animated conversation about their lives over milkshakes as if they were drinks, especially considering that one of them was pregnant and her belly looked like it was about to explode.

You didn't blame anyone for reacting that way, especially not your friends. You were still pretty shocked by what happened, especially by how thoughtless the man you'd developed feelings for and worked closely with over the past few years was. It was a unsettling to find a tip on your nightstand after one of the most memorable nights you'd ever had. You still remembered the excitement you felt when you went to Spencer's apartment yesterday to watch a movie as part of your fourth or fifth date. He seemed nervous when you started kissing more intensely, and the couch wasn't the best setting. The sensation of your body on his bed and his lips on your skin was incredible.

It was a good memory, extremely good if you took away the embarrassment of waking up the next day in his empty bed with money waiting for you, as if you had performed a service.

“Maybe there was a misunderstanding and the money was left on the table by mistake.” Jennifer spoke again in a reassuring tone after turning the matter over. “Spencer can be a little clumsy sometimes.”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you listened to her attempt to provide an explanation for his actions. But given their friendship, this was to be expected.

“And he was in a hurry to catch his plane and go to his mother.” Garcia added with a forced smile, trying to lift your spirits. “It all makes sense.”

Yes, it was understandable that he was leaving in a hurry because he had to catch a flight to spend his weekend off with his mother. That didn't worry you, but there was something else that was curious.

“How do you explain the thank-you note?” You asked, taking out the paper and the two dollars you'd pulled out to show them as proof from your purse.

“It was a thank you for hanging out with him, a sweet gesture.” JJ said, taking a sip of her milkshake and patting her belly.

It seemed more like a sour gesture to you, that you had been left with your dignity on the floor. As you left his apartment, you didn't know whether to cry or laugh because it sounded like a bad joke that the only man you thought was decent and for whom you allowed yourself to have feelings would do such a thing.

“My love life is going downhill.” You said.

Just then, the restaurant door opens and Emily appears. After greeting her and apologizing for her late arrival, she asks about the cause of your apparent distress. As a profiler, she was astute enough to know something was wrong just by looking at you.

“What's wrong, honey?” She started talking as soon as she sat down next to you and took a quick look at the table. “Those milkshakes look good, I want one.”

“Spencer thinks I'm a prostitute.” You spoke up without thinking, which surprised Emily and caused her to briefly lose her grip on the menu.

There was a long, awkward silence.

Perhaps you were too direct in saying something that you had been trying to ignore for your own mental health.

“Just a heads-up, we've got a baby in the room. No need to say that word!” Penelope was the first to speak, gently covering JJ's belly with her hands. “He can hear you.”

At that moment, Reid and his comments about pregnancy data at every stage came to mind. You felt a little uncomfortable because you knew it was a little unrealistic to focus on the positives at a time like this.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, baby.” You looked regretfully at your friends and spoke to Jennifer's belly, giving it a gentle caress. “Don't listen.”

“I need context, please.” Emily said confusedly, trying to understand what was going on and why you had said what you had said.

You let out a deep breath, preparing yourself to recount the story once more.

“Okay, Spencer and I made...milkshakes. Very good milkshakes, really good if you know what I mean.” You tried to explain slowly, watching your words and your friends' expressions. “I woke up when he was leaving, he gave me a kiss on my forehead and said to keep sleeping, that he had to catch his flight.”

“That's sweet, but weird to know.” Emily commented quizzically, looking at the menu intently again. “What's the part...you know?”

“Oh, when he thought I was-” You stop yourself as you see how JJ looks at you. “A pie maker.”

You could tell from their expressions that they were about to laugh at your attempts to keep the conversation friendly.

“I woke up hours later to find two dollars on the nightstand with a thank-you note.” You finished the story. “To him, I'm worth two fu...sugary dollars.”

Prentiss stared at you for several seconds, waiting for me to tell her it was a joke. Only when that didn't happen did she speak. “That sounds weird and awful, but I don't think he would do something like that on purpose. Especially you, he really likes you.”

“He likes me enough to give me two dollars.”

When you finished speaking, you experienced a moment of discomfort in your stomach as your own words took effect. You were surprised to find that on a deeper level, what had happened was causing you more pain than you had anticipated.

“That doesn't sound like Reid at all. I've known him for years, and he's not that kind of man.” Penelope said with a frown, trying to reassure you. “I'm sure it's a mix-up.”

You were looking for the same thing and hoping it was just a misunderstanding, but your previous bad experiences made you think otherwise. You'd met enough men to know that they could always be worse. What was different now was that you really liked this particular man. You really longed for him to be different from everyone else.

However, things weren't always as you'd hoped. You'd invested a lot of hope in making your fairy tale come true, and it was starting to take its toll.

“Have you had a chance to speak with him?” JJ inquired.

“He's with his mother, I won't bother him.” You replied with a strange simplicity that made your friends suspicious. “I'm fine, I've calmed down.” You added as you saw their worried faces.

“I love you, but sometimes you scare me.” Emily said, watching you drink from your smoothie as if it contained a painkiller. “It's not okay to pretend that everything's fine.”

“It's understandable to feel a bit discouraged about this. Things may seem challenging at the moment, but I believe things will improve when you discuss this with him.” Jennifer's hand gently touched yours, offering a comforting gesture.

“I'm sure everything will be fine. You have our support if you need it.” Penelope joined in with the motivational words and gave you a reassuring smile.

You took the last sip of your milkshake and leaned back in your seat for a moment before replying. “I'm fine, girls. I don't plan to lose my head over a man, I promised myself.”

They looked at you with some skepticism, but you didn't flinch. You were confident that if you were mentally prepared not to be defeated, or at least not to look defeated, you would be well prepared for the day of the meeting.

You weren't going to lose your mind over this.

Monday morning

You were definitely losing your mind, and no cup of tea or internet video that promised to do so had been able to relax you one bit. You had been cooped up in the office you shared with Penelope for several minutes, pacing in your chair while everyone in the conference room waited for information about a new case and your presence. The mere thought of having to face Reid again was making you feel pretty uneasy.

All weekend, you had been trying to reassure yourself that you were doing well, that you were not hurt or affected by what happened, that it was just one more disappointment to add to the long list you had written since you were a teenager, and that it was normal for someone with your luck. You were not a princess, you were not going to meet a prince, and you were old enough to know that.

But being in the same building as your prince turned toad was not as easy as you had hoped. You prayed that your presence would not be necessary and that the jet would soon take off to take them all away, especially him.

A few sudden knocks on the door startled you. You automatically thought it was your boss coming to scold you for being late, and your blood froze.

“I apologize for the delay, Hotch. I assure...” You spoke promptly as soon as the door opened and a male figure appeared.

But obviously, it wasn't him.

“Oh, sorry, I'm not Hotch. But hey, how are you?” Spencer smiled at you and walked toward you, looking a little nervous.

“Fine.” You replied dryly, getting up from your seat to grab your tablet and some folders to carry into the conference room.

In your mind, you had planned to make a scene as soon as you saw him and make it clear that you didn't cost just two dollars. But after thinking about it a lot, the fear of losing your job over it was greater. And now it was a mixture of that reasoning with your feeling of paralysis at actually having him in front of you.

“I...I missed you over the weekend.” He stopped you before you could walk away, gently holding your hand. The feeling alone made you stop and look at him angrily. “I thought about you a lot, too much, and I bought you something.” He let go of your hand to pull a small box out of his pocket.

“How dare you?” You blurt out, taking a step back.

He looked a little uncomfortable and seemed to be in pain. “I'm sorry if I overstepped. I didn't mean to impose. Did I cross a line? I'm so sorry, I just thought-”

“What? That you could embarrass me even more? Didn't I already go through enough?”

That's when you took out two dollars from your purse and gave it to him.

“Could I ask why this is?” Spencer was still frowning and looked just as hurt as you.

His apparent lack of understanding of the situation made you much angrier. You had thought he was probably the smartest man you had ever met in your entire life, but suddenly, in your eyes, he was an idiot.

“I'm refunding your payment, Reid.” You replied firmly, without hiding your frustration.

The confusion on his face seemed to multiply as he tried to understand. “What are you talking about? I gave you your money back.”

You tilted your head slightly to one side.

“Saturday morning, I left on the nightstand the two dollars you lent me a week ago when we bought coffee. You know I don't like being in debt.” Spencer began to explain calmly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and present the facts in a clear and concise manner.

Oh, you do remember lending him money at some point, or rather, inviting him for coffee that he said he'd pay you back. That day when his hair was perfect in the wind, when he smiled at you and told you some interesting facts about coffee beans.

“I mentioned it when I said goodbye, but you looked so tired that I left you a thank you note in case you forgot.” He went on to explain. “A lot of studies say that you wake up to full strength at least 20 to 30 minutes after you actually open your eyes. And you still had them closed when I said goodbye.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I...I thought you-” You fell silent as you saw the stunned look on his face. You didn't want to look crazy, so you quickly added. “I just thought wrong.”

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I just...did you bring me a gift?” You changed the subject, taking the box he had previously offered you. Inside was a necklace with a cherry blossom charm.

“Your computer wallpaper is a picture of cherry blossoms. And I saw this necklace in a store when I was walking with my mom, and I thought you might like it. But it's okay if you don't want it-” He spoke fast until you interrupted him.

“I love it, thank you.” You smiled at him and took the necklace out of the box. “Could you help me with this?”

With some trepidation and uncertainty still present, Spencer positioned himself behind you with the jewel in his hands, carefully brushed your hair aside and fastened the necklace around your neck. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin made you feel a slight shiver.

“Thanks.” You said as you turned around to face him. You gave him a hug, though you were a little unsure.

He returned your embrace, feeling a sense of relief that things between you were okay. “You don't have to thank me.”

“It's not about the gift. It's just a way to say thanks for being you.”

Perhaps he was your prince after all.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler

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celestialowlbear · 7 months

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Just Gale romance things.

Waking up to the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast, which he brings you in bed.

Laying his head in your lap as you play with his hair, asking you about your day.

Cozy evenings reading by a crackling fire, sitting in comfortable silence.

Gale softly reciting poetry as you lay in bed together, holding you close, his intimate words only meant for your ears.

Watching the sunset over a glass of good wine as Gale tells you about a new spell he’s learning.

Gale’s hand always finding yours, squeezing gently and finding it hard to let go.

Playful kisses on the cheek when you aren’t expecting it.

Bookstore dates, thumbing through old texts and buying way more books than you could ever read.

Gale smelling of leather and well-worn pages of a book as he kisses you in the back of the shop.

Catching Gale staring at you, his eyes full of warmth and awe at you, even when you’re doing the most mundane things.

Trying new recipes together, laughing in the kitchen.

Gale whispering between passionate kisses that he wishes he could marry you again and again and again, how his love for you goes beyond all planes and dimensions, your love so profound not even the most prolific poet could put on paper.

Dozing off in one another’s arms, Gale’s heart beyond full, knowing you loved him for him, He could be his true self, the real Gale Dekarios with you.

And he wants nothing more than you and him, like this, forever.

Help, I love him.

#Overwhelmed by gale thoughts #Gale x reader #Gale x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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itsjusthockey · 10 months

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Hughes Your Daddy? - Jack Hughes

hahahaha finally

enjoy

request

If I get 10+ comments/asks ill make a part 2

Yes, that's me bribing you, I want more interactions

w.c: 3,007 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

Pt.2

The last few weeks of college are the worst weeks of a student's life. There’s nothing but studying, finals, and pure hell. Yet, when Ellen Hughes calls and tells you to get on a flight to Vancouver to be present at the Hughes Bowl, you fucking get on a flight to Vancouver.

The flight itself is terrific; you study a bit of your flashcards, drink some hot cocoa, and even get in a solid half-hour nap. You honestly feel a little sad when the intercoms go off, and they announce your descent into Canada.

The sadness washes away quickly when you clear the clouds and realize how excited you are. This trip, tomorrow’s game, is a very, very special event. Each Hughes brother will be playing on the ice tomorrow night, and you’ll be sitting, as requested, in the Hughes box overlooking it all.

As soon as the 737 touches down, you’re quick to switch your phone off airplane mode. You appreciated the few hours of bliss without endless notifications, but life has to go on. As soon as the iPhone gets service, a flood of messages rolls through. One from Ellen, to which you respond. Two from Quinn, which you answer. And 36 messages from Jack, which you ignore.

You should respond, and you will, but first, you have to get off the plane and find your favorite chauffeur.

Without further delay, you exit the plane, grabbing your carry-on and swinging your backpack over your shoulders. You smile at the few flight attendants on the way out and throw an extra thank you to the woman who gave you some extra cookies when she saw your flashcards.

The Vancouver airport is bustling, and you can’t help but feel the positive vibes radiating from the space. The entire airport is decorated for Christmas, and you’re reminded why it’s ranked one of the best airports in North America.

You make your way to the baggage claim, checking your phone to ensure you’re heading toward the right spot. You are, and while you’re walking, you pass all the cute little shops. You see a couple of little knickknacks, and you make a mental note to pick up something on your flight back. Now, however, you must focus.

The baggage claim area is pretty full, and you’re dodging people left and right. You’re unsure in the sea of people where Quinn might be hiding until you hear your name shouted from somewhere to your left. You turn your body, and there he is, waving a bit and standing with a small smile.

“Oh my god, is that Quinn Hughes?” You say in mock shock as you get within his earshot. “The newest captain of the Canucks and Vancouver's most precious gem?”

He rolls his eyes back as far as he can when you approach, but nonetheless, he pulls you in for a hug.

“Please stop.” He groans out as your part and takes your carry-on from you.

“Never.” You smile as he leads you out of the airport.

It takes mere minutes to get to the car, and you both catch up about whatever. It’s been months since you’ve seen Quinn, and whenever you’re with him, you’re reminded why he might be your favorite besides Ellen and Jim, of course.

As soon as you are settled into the passenger of Quinn’s car, he reaches back behind him and pulls out a small gift bag.

“Here, before I forget.”

You give him a questioning look, and he just gives you a slight smirk.

“Just open it. It’s more of a gift to everyone else.”

You squint your eyes a bit suspiciously but pull the tissue paper from the bag. As soon as you do, you see the familiar blue and white colors, and a laugh burst from your lips.

“Oh my god.” You shriek out, laughing, pulling the Canucks jersey from the bag.

You both immediately start laughing, and you can hardly contain yourself.

“Of course, you don’t have to wear it for the game.” Quinn says. “but he’s gonna flip if he sees you wearing it when they get here.”

You scan the Jersey and agree with the boy next to you. Your boyfriend is very possessive when it comes to jerseys, and he hates everything that isn’t red, black, or white and doesn’t have Hughes 86 plastered on the back.

“Oh, this is gold, Quinn.” You say, tucking the jersey back in as Quinn moves the car out of the lot.

“Ma and I thought so, too. She said it might humble him for the night.”

Speaking of humbling your boyfriend, you reach for your phone and go to text him back. You scan the many messages and roll your eyes at a few. Most of them are him just wanting attention, but the last one catches your eye.

we’re 2 hours behind ur flight. No fun or smiling before I get there

You read the text allowed to Quinn, who rolls his eyes at the statement, and you’re quick to shoot a response back, telling Jack that it’s too late and you’re having the best time ever.

————————-

As soon as you step through Quinn’s front door, you hear a happy yell, and Ellen is pulling you in for a long-awaited hug. You practically melt as she squishes you, and the happiest of laughs exits her.

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so happy this worked out.” She says to you, pulling back just enough to look at your smiling face.

You look behind her as Jim is standing nearby, waiting his turn. You give Ellen one less squeeze and then turn to the original Hughes and give him a big hug.

“Hey, kiddo,” He says. “Glad you’re here.”

As soon as you say your hellos, you move to get your stuff settled into your room. As quickly as you can, you throw your stuff down and pull on the New Jersey, making your way back out to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter, Jim laughs, and Ellen raises her hands to her mouth.

“Oh, Jack is gonna hate it.” She turns to Quinn and laughs, using him to steady her.

“Oh, we know.” You say, high-fiving Quinn as you grab a cup of some water.

As soon as you get your water, you all settle into the living room, and questions are flying left and right. You talk about school, work, and whatever else comes to mind about the time you’ve spent away from them. They hang onto every word, and you can’t help but smile. You’ve always been close to Jack's family, but when the one-year mark passed, it’s like they fully accepted you as one of them. Now, almost two years in, Ellen and Jim treat you like the daughter they never had, and they tell you often how much more they like you than any of their sons. You always laugh, but you know deep down that you are special to them. And that fact alone makes you consider yourself one of the luckiest girls.

“They just landed,” Quinn announces. “Almost showtime.”

Ellen winks at you from her space on the couch, and you settle deeper into the comfortable space, counting down the seconds until your boyfriend walks through the door.

—————————-

About half an hour later, you hear loud commotion as the door swings open and Jack and Luke enter the building. It takes less than three seconds for Jack to yell.

“Where is she?”

You laugh at him and yell back from the living room. “I’m in here.”

In mere seconds, Jack is in the room, making a beeline toward you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in a month, and you won’t lie; he looks pretty good.

You make your move and step off the couch, going to hug him, but he halts in his place a few feet away, giving you a once-over.

“Get that shit off you.”

As soon as that leaves his mouth, everyone busts out laughing, and Jack gives you a less-than-impressed look. You feel a bit bad, so you give him a small smile and lift the jersey off your frame, revealing a Devils t-shirt underneath.

As soon as you throw the jersey away, he takes two long strides and engulfs you in a hug. You thought that nothing could beat Ellen’s hug, but Jack's grip nearly breaks your back.

You pull away after a second and pry him off of you. You love him more than anything, but you’re not about to show massive amounts of PDA in front of his parents, who are sitting a few feet away.

He gets this because he lets you go and gives his parents and brother a quick greeting, then leads you away from the living room. Everyone allows it to happen, and you find yourself in the privacy of the bedroom.

“You’re funny, but you better have my jersey for tomorrow night.”

You let out a small laugh and cross the room again, linking your hand behind his head and pulling him closer to you. His hands find home on your waist, and his fingertips dip under your shirt a bit, gently squeezing.

“I promise, J,” you grin. “I’ll do my best to show support to the losing team.”

He releases a soft gasp and gives you a slight look of betrayal.

“Losing team?”

Your grin goes even wider. “Check that stats, bud. You’re in a bit of a losing streak.”

He narrows his eyes a bit, and with one quick motion, he grabs your frame and tosses you on the bed. He enters attack mode, lays his entire weight on you, and begins grabbing at your sides. You, of course, go into defense mode and fight to push him off. You fight for power for a minute before you pull your defining move. He gets close, too close, and you give him your best doe eyes. The second he catches your stare, he folds, and he puts himself at your mercy.

For the first time in a hot minute, you pull him to meet you; the second his lips are on you, you implode. It’s been too long, and there is nothing more comforting and familiar than the boy lying nearly on top of you. You kiss him for a minute, your lips molding perfectly together before you pull away, gently patting his face.

“I think your family would like to see you.”

You push him away again as he rolls his eyes.

“I see them enough.”

He goes back to try to kiss you, but you push him away, putting a finger to his lips and shaking your head.

“Come on.”

He lets out an annoyed huff and removes himself from the bed, pulling you up along with him. You make your way back to the family room and laugh yourself into the family events.

Soon, you’re all playing board games, and you find out very quickly reminded about how sore of a loser your boyfriend is. You play board games cards, and when it gets late enough in the night, you all make your way to the living room for a movie.

You watch something light-hearted, and you can’t help but feel bliss as you’re tucked into Jack's side, surrounded by the entirety of the Hughes family. It’s a nice moment, and it’s the times like this that have you thankful you’ve stuck with the boy at your side.

——————

Before the sun rises, Jack's alarm blares next to you, and you can only groan at the noise. Alarms are truly nothing but an escape from bliss, and you wish you could stay forever in this little bubble. You’re warm comfy, and you don’t mind the boy you’re cuddled next to.

But alas, he is a slave to hockey, and he presses a quick kiss to your lips and swings himself out of bed. You follow a few minutes later, moving at a sloth pace. Instead of getting fully ready, you make your way downstairs to where the smell of bacon is wafting through the house. You’re almost giddy as you see Ellen and Quinn making breakfast, and you get even happier when Ellen places a steaming mug of coffee in front of you.

“You’re an angel, thank you.”

She gives you a big smile and pours another cup for herself. As soon as you catch the time, you offer to take Quinn’s place with the cooking, to which he gladly accepts and runs off to shower and get ready for the big game.

As soon as all the Hughes boys are out of earshot, you get down to business.

“I’ll raise to fifty on the Devs.”

Jim scoffs at your bet. “I love ‘em, but I disagree. Offense has been a bit sloppy. I’ll raise to a hundred on the Nucks.”

You quirk your eyebrow, then turn to the Queen, who seems to be pondering.

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but I think I’m gonna say Nucks too.”

You let out a soft groan but hold your ground.

“Alright. Final bet is a hundred. Winner takes all.

You all shake hands, sealing the deal.

As if you weren’t up to gambling, you act as naturally as possible as the three boys enter the kitchen. Each one is clad in a suit, and it warms your heart to see them all together. They look adorable, and you can’t help but laugh when Ellen demands a picture. They oblige, but like every other photo they take, it slightly looks like they’re being held at gunpoint. But you win some, you lose some.

Eventually, you’re all fed, happy, and once another alarm goes off, you know it’s time. You say your goodbyes to the boys, wishing them the best of luck. You hug Quinn, do your secret handshake with Luke, and press a quick kiss to Jack's lips.

Once you finish, they say their goodbyes to their parents and make their way toward the door, but they don’t get far before Jack pulls you toward him one last time.

“You ready to watch me destroy Quinn?” He teases.

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with a laugh. Nonetheless, you give him one last peck, swat his ass, and yell one final encouragement as he heads out the door.

“Don’t embarrass me!”

He flips you the bird as he gets into Quinn’s vehicle, and you smile and give him one back as you head back into the house.

You sit back down to finish talking with the parents l, and time ticks by faster than you’d like. Soon enough, it’s time to get ready, and you throw on your devil's jersey. You say a little prayer and hope they all do good. Things like this don’t happen often, and you hope it’s simply a good game.

———————

You smiled as wide as you could as the three Hughes brothers posed for a couple of pictures. You could see the distaste on all their faces, but they did it anyway.

Once they do the appropriate media, the game begins, and you’re sitting on the edge of your seat. It’s a good game, no, a great game. Soon, the first period is almost over, but not before your boyfriend has to remind everyone who he is, and he scores a goal.

It’s known that the Hughes parents don’t show much emotion at the games, and even more so when it’s their sons playing on opposite teams. So you control yourself, but you don’t miss when Ellen squeezes your hand.

The game continues, and it’s a nail-biter. Each minute you watch, you get more and more tense. Maybe it’s because you’re just nervous, or perhaps it’s the fact you have a hundred bucks on the line. But either way, you pray the clock ticks faster.

It doesn’t, but once Luke scores, you can’t help but start to think that this might be the end of a losing streak. You laugh on the inside because, of course, all it takes is a little brother rivalry to get the Devils back into motion.

———————

When the clock hits zero, and the Devils win, you practically die in your seat. You’re so thrilled for Jack and Luke, but a small part of you is a bit depressed for Quinn. But you know, if anyone can handle a loss like this, it’s the eldest Hughes, so you’re not too worried. Instead, you focus on your boyfriend, who, even from the box, looks the happiest he’s been in a while. He was given the title of the first star of the game, and you absolutely love it when he’s like this. You know he’s going to be in one of those unstoppable moods. You love it, but he can be a cocky little shit, and you know he’s going to be almost insufferable. You’ll take it, though, and embrace every part of it.

A few minutes later, the area starts clearing, and you’re all getting ready to leave the box, but you almost forget what is happening when Jim slides you a crisp hundred-dollar bill and winks at you.

“Jack really pulls out the stops when you’re at a game.”

You let a blush creep onto your face as you take the bill. You’d be lying if you said that you felt bad. This isn’t the first game you’ve bet on against Jim, and it certainly won’t be the last.

“Alright, you two gamblers, let’s go see the boys, shall we?”

Ellen leads the three of you down to where you’ll see the men of the hour. You feel the happiest you’ve felt in a while as you follow behind them, and when you get close enough, you can hear your boyfriend laugh from a short distance. Your heart skips the noise, and as soon as he spots you from across the room, he moves as fast as lightning to get to you.

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asks-n-trolls · 2 years

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👀 for Taavos please,

ask meme

Looks like Taavos has recently taken up origami and is starting off with some simple things likes little frogs and a handful of planes that seem to be made out of scratch paper and... love letters?

Though next to her seat the bin seems full of her past failed attempts at what one could only assume is a bunch of swans. Maybe someday.

#taavos ask #catch taavos trying to ask spitze out on a date via paper plane but it keeps flying into puddles and the garbage 😔😔

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luveline · 7 months

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May I request a roan & eddie & r's first outing after the wedding and roan is so happy she tells everyone "this is my mom"?

dad!eddie x (step)mom!reader —breakfast on the family moon

The sun is high in the sky that afternoon, and every breeze smells of salt and fresh flowers. Eddie turns his head one way and sees a field of lush green grass, turns it the other and finds himself looking out over the white stone monolith of the family hotel where you’re staying.

Roan climbs up onto the solid wooden table next to empty plates smeared with syrup and melted chocolate, vying for a last strawberry as big as her hand. “You want that one, bub?” he asks.

“Can I have it?”

He bites off the stem. He’s not sure if that’s disgusting, but you’ve married him now, no take-backsies, and you aren’t here to see anyhow. He spits the green into a napkin and offers the fruit to his waiting daughter. “Okay?”

“Thank you,” she says, catching it in her teeth. “All the fruits are so yummy here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouthful, baby,” Eddie says.

She shrugs, pulling her knees up. They’re red from crawling along the wooden table but unscathed, stark against the pale fabric of her dress’ skirt.

“Look,” he says, pointing at the waiter standing near the restaurant's big patio doors, “the waiter’s gonna see you climbing all over the table and getting your spit on me.”

Roan turns to look. Her behaviour remains unchanged. “Where’s mommy?”

Eddie drags her backwards off of the wood and into his lap. He kisses her cheek, her forehead, hoping to imbue the intensity of what he’s feeling on to her —he’s never been this content in his life. He’s married you, and marriage is a piece of paper and all his heroes would laugh in his face but would they? Because what’s better than finding your person, and loving them, and getting to be loved back? “She’s getting another plate for you and your good appetite.”

Roan’s been just as thrilled since the wedding. She cried a little on the plane from the changing pressure, but before and after that she’s been a vestibule of joy. She turns into his kissing to cuddle him by the neck, her arms around him and her hair tickling his throat. “Mommy said we can try surfing today.”

“I know! Do you think you’re ready to surf? We got you that wetsuit, all we need is a boogie board.”

“A what?”

“It’s like a surfboard, but not so big,” he explains, stroking her curls back from her face absentminded, eyes scanning inside of the hotel restaurant for a hint of your pale dress.

“I want a real surfboard.”

“Mm, no, babe. You can’t carry a surfboard. It’s okay though, we’re gonna be on boogie boards too.”

She leans back. “Can we have more breakfast?”

“Let’s see what Y/N brings back.”

You’re summoned by his name drop, edging toward the patio doors as you chat to one of the waiters. You’re laughing politely, attempting to point to your two Munson’s but struggling with the plates you carry, one in each hand, while drinks pressed between your arm and chest threaten to spill. The waiter takes one of your plates.

“Aw, sugar, thank you,” you say, “it’s just there. I’m sorry.”

“That’s why I’m here,” the waiter says with an easy customer service smile.

You and the waiter approach and put down the plates and cups. “Hi, baby,” you say, visibly perplexed at Roan’s huge smile.

“This is my mom,” Roan tells the waiter.

“And she’s just as beautiful as you are, hun. You are a lucky guy,” he directs his last comment at Eddie.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Eddie says.

“We just got married,” you say proudly.

“But how old are you?” the waiter asks Roan.

She holds up five fingers, and then a sixth.

“You were slow,” the waiter says to Eddie.

“It’s not his fault, we’ve been engaged almost a year,” you say, “and we didn’t know one another until not even three years ago, so–”

Roan doesn’t care about the waiter’s confusion. She reaches for you where she’s sitting in Eddie’s lap, almost tipping onto the floor as she stretches as far as her arms can go. She whines until you take notice.

“Hi,” you say, cutting yourself off to pick her up. “What, babe?”

“I love you,” she says.

You and Eddie laugh. The waiter makes a sound of understanding. “She looks like dad because you are the stepmom,” he says.

“Just mom,” you say, giving her a little kiss. “She really does look like her dad though, huh? Except he’s not covered in chocolate.”

“We can arrange that.”

You laugh against Roan’s cheek, “I love you,” you say, just for her, “I got you a bowlful of strawberries, your skin is gonna turn pink ‘cos you’ve eaten so many. Love you.”

Roan closes her eyes. She’s been smothered in love for a week straight and there’s no signs of it ever stopping. “I love you too. Let’s have melon.”

“I got some.”

Eddie nudges you back into your seat. “Alright, quick, we need to eat and sleep it off for an hour before we go surfing. Chop chop.”

“He’s so bossy,” Roan says.

“I know, baby. Don’t listen to him.”

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the-offside-rule · 7 months

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Ollie Bearman (Prema) - Early Bird

Requested: yes

Prompt: 14) "It's too early."

Warnings: none

Y/n slowly opened her eyes, the soft morning light seeping through the curtains. She turned to her side, finding Ollie still deep in slumber beside her. The digital clock on the nightstand blinked a reminder that it was time to start the day. Gently untangling herself from Ollie's embrace, Y/n tiptoed to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. The faint sound of water running and drawers opening filled the room as she got ready for university.

As she emerged, freshly dressed, she glanced at the still-sleeping Ollie. Realizing the urgency of the situation, Y/n leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. He turned sleepily, his eyes still closed. "Ollie, you need to wake up. You've got that flight to Bahrain, remember?" She whispered, gently moving his curly locks out of his eyes. Ollie stirred, mumbling incoherently. Y/n chuckled softly."Come on, sleepyhead. It's time to face the day."

With a groan, Ollie squinted at the clock, protesting. "It's too early, love. Can't I have 5 more minutes?" Y/n laughed. "You wish, but you've got a plane to catch, and I've got classes to get to. Get up." As Ollie reluctantly opened his eyes, he pouted, "Why do flights always have to be so early?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, "Blame the airlines, not me. Now, up you go."

Ollie checked his watch, realizing he was running late for his flight. Meanwhile, Y/n was frantically searching for her university essentials. "Are you ready, love? We have to head soon." Ollie said, finishing up his breakfast. "Where on earth did I put my laptop charger?" Y/n exclaimed, turning her bag upside down. "Again? You've lost it again?" He asked in disbelief, chuckling. "This isn't funny. I need it!" Ollie, determined to help, joined the hunt. "Let's divide and conquer. I'll check your study area; you focus on the bedroom." As Ollie rummaged through papers, Y/n discovered her charger hidden behind a stack of books. "Found it! Thanks, Ollie." He grinned. "No problem. Now, let's grab your other things so we can both make it to the airport on time."

In a hurry, they made their way to the car, Ollie still half-asleep. As they drove, Y/n couldn't help but admire the way Ollie's eyes tried to stay open, fighting against the morning fatigue. On the way to university, they enjoyed the quiet moments, knowing they wouldn't have this time together for a few weeks. Y/n loved the shared laughter, the sleepy conversations, and the warmth of Ollie's presence beside her, but now for the first time in a few months, he'd be away from her.

Upon reaching the university, Ollie pulled up to the entrance, and they shared a lingering goodbye. "Bye, love." Ollie smiled as he kissed Y/n lovingly. "Please text me." She said, opening the door. "I will. Only if you message me too." Y/n smiled. "Of course I'm going to message you. I'm not mental." She chuckled, hopping out and waving as her boyfriend left. As Ollie drove away towards the airport, Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions – the bittersweetness of parting, but also the anticipation of the reunion. And so, they bid each other farewell, knowing that distance couldn't diminish the love that bound them together.

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 fic #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x y/n #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman #f2 x y/n #f2 x you #f2 x reader

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yuquinzel · 1 year

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BLUE LOCK BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES !

— feat ⨾ itoshi sae, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo.

— contents ⨾ fluff, angst.

ITOSHI SAE + second chance at love !

it's raw with desperation and fear and hope— the way sae's fingers are clutching the fabric of your shirt. it's wasn't supposed to be this way. he kisses the tears trailing down your cheeks, “you said it was over. you said it wasn't worth it. you said you didn't want—” you choke on your own words, hand closing in fists on your sides when sae mutters breathlessly, “i didn't mean it, never ever.” he says. something like guilt burns in his eyes, a taste of regret on his lips, uncertainty and impatience in his hastened breaths.

it's crazy, you think. the way he still has that effect he had on you years ago when you were both seventeen in the airport terminal, teary eyes and staggered breaths. when the fear that the distance would tear you apart first took over, and sae stopped believing. when you looked away from him for the first time and he didn't reach out to wipe your tears. it wasn't supposed to be this way. he was back after four years and you weren't supposed to be in his arms. you promised yourself you'd talk like old friends do, and he trusted himself that he wouldn't say anything to try and make you stay.

“i think it can work, you and me, us. just the two of us and it'll be enough.” you know these words have burned on his tongue for long, because they're warm on your lips. you're kissing him back like it's only natural to do so.“i'm already yours, always have been.” he murmurs.

ITOSHI RIN + childhood friends to lovers !

it's the warm and golden hues of the setting sun melting into the evening blues, splattered colours of contrast coming together— the mark of a newborn eve, the smell of wet earth after the first shower of spring and the cool caress of the breeze. rin is standing by the entrance gates to your school, leaning against the wall, head rested to the side as he waits for you.

you think you're caught in a trance. his back covers the remnants of the sunlight like the moon eclipsing the sun, casting shadows of orange glows. when he breathes, the shadows dance with him. he frowns in wait, and you catch up to him. when you smile, it's almost melancholy, “what's got you smiling like that?” rin eyes the solemn curve of your lips.

“hmm? i think it's ’cause i like you.” the words bleed from your voice in saccharine hues, in bittersweet whispers of unrequited love and fear that maybe you've ruined the carefully painted mosaic of years of knowing rin and the sea green gleam of his eyes, the quiet hums and smiles only you know, the knowledge that he doesn't know how to make paper planes, summer nights of horror movie marathons and trading ice creams.

rin parts his lips, eyes as wide as saucers. he sucks a breath in— searching for the second you say you're joking, “do you mean that?”

you nod and rin's arms swallow you whole, chests pressed so close your heartbeats sync and improvise as one.

“i like you too, really like you.” he breathes into your neck— lingers of relief and gratitude like he's breathing for the first time.

NAGI SEISHIRO + forced proximity !

past 2 am into the late hours of midnight blues and the heavy patters rain against the glass window, reduced to background noise because you're subconsciously trying to trace the steady pattern of nagi's breathing, eyes skimming the fall and rise of his chest every two seconds.

you've been awake since thunder rumbled the walls of your temporarily-shared bedroom for the first time tonight. some fun, memorable just-close-friends trip this is. perhaps it wasn't enough you had to share the bed with someone, maybe it's truly because that someone happened to be nagi seishiro that you can't sleep at all. you're conscious of every breath he takes, how his body expands and relaxes. the heat of your bodies melding as one like a blanket of second warmth over you. “you still awake?” you ask, low and soft. nagi hums, “mhm, if you still are.”

his voice is nothing but a breath of the comfort of not being alone, exhaustion from the day clawing at his throat. “you can sleep if you want.” you say, it's whispered into the night— a silent thank you because he's letting you know he's here as long as you want him, “i wanna stay like this.” he urges, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear and you let him. you let him hook his arm around your waist, foreheads brushing lightly, breaths tangling in knots and lips seconds away from meeting. you watch the curve of his lips, how they move to form words, “i like this more.”

MIKAGE REO + fake relationship !

you think reo had always looked like midsummer nights adorned with princely smiles and bubbles of champagne in the glass, glitters of neon city lights against damp car windows, juvenile secrets traded as i love you's with the hope it lasts forever. ( it doesn't. )

it lingers in the way he kisses you these days— a small talk to fill in loud silences, pretense and improvised. you kiss him back— a lullaby of aching heartbreak, unrequited and young. it almost makes you forget about the blinding flashes of camera lights, hurrying to capture the moment mikage reo is seen with his partner.

it's just like he had asked you to, “date me” he'd said, missing the way your eyes lit up, “it doesn't have to be real, just enough so my parents stop setting me up for blind dates.”

“i don't think i can do this anymore.” your voice breaks, eyes refusing to meet his.

“what? why?—” he rushes close and you step back, “it's getting too real for me, i can't.”

he pauses— ponders your words, lets them replay in his mind over and over again, “...and you don't want that?” you do. so much that you said yes before thinking when he first proposed this, “what about you, reo? this... this means nothing to you right? none of th—”

“it does”, his voice is almost begging, “it means everything to me. you do. it's you and it's always been you.” he looks at you, wondering if he should continue. he does anyway, “it's real. i loved you every time i said it, every time i didn't say it. I'll say it again if you want me to—” and you hear it, like it's always been there, like it's all he's ever known, “— i love you, y/n.”

#❀˖° ─ hana writes.#blue lock #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi rin #nagi seishiro #mikage reo #bllk #blue lock x you #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock angst #blue lock fluff #sae itoshi x you #rin itoshi x you #nagi seishiro x you #reo mikage x you

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alotofpockets · 8 months

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Travel day | Arsenal WFC

Pairing: Arsenal x Teen!Reader & Kyra Cooney-Cross x Best friend!Reader

Summary: A travel day with Arsenal, where you and Kyra can't seem to sit still. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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Ever since you had joined Arsenal at seventeen, you were deemed the child of the group. All of your teammates were immensely protective over you. Leah was the most protective, she had let you move into her apartment, the captain not wanting you to stay somewhere on your own. At first the overly protectiveness was a bit annoying but once you realised that they all meant it well, you started to enjoy the way the team had taken you in as their family member.

When Kyra had joined the team a year later, you were grateful for another youngling on the team. The girl had quickly gotten the “annoying little sister” status, and it was to no surprise to the team that the two of you got along great right away.

Today was a travelling day for the team, you were heading overseas for a day of training, and a match the day after. You walk into the living room with your suitcase, kit bag, and your backpack, plopping them all down next to where Leah had put hers. “Hey kiddo, got everything packed?” You nod and sit down on the couch. “Socks, pyjamas, and a charger too?” You get up and walk towards her, handing her the checked off packing list. “I packed everything you wrote down for me.” She looks over the list, and is pleased with all the check marks she sees on the paper. “Alright then, Lia will be here shortly to pick us up. Oh, before I forget. I made you some sandwiches, you can put them in your backpack.”

You take the sandwiches from Leah, “Lee, what am I supposed to do with this many ham sandwiches? It’s like a two hour flight max.” You laugh at the girl but put them in your backpack anyways. “You can share with Kyra, as I am guessing that the two of you will use up enough energy to need those later.”

A couple minutes later, Lia arrives to pick the both of you up. “Hey kid, ready for today?” Lia asks as she gives you a quick hug. “Yeah, I’m excited.” With your luggage in the car, Lia drives the three of you to Colney where the team would meet up to head to the airport together.

When you arrive at the airport, and have checked in your baggage and gone through costumes, you arrive at the gate. You drop your backpack to the floor where Leah sits down, and rush off to find Kyra again. When the girl notices you, she dropped her own bag next to Katie, and started running away from you. You sprint after her, chasing her around the gate.

The team watches the two of you run around amused, wincing when you’d nearly miss other airport goers. “Should we stop them?” Katie says to Leah, when you finally manage to catch up to Kyra, and tackle her to the ground. “I say let them tire themselves out, so we have a peaceful flight.” She said the last part as a joke, but seeing the amount of energy the two of you had at the moment, it was best to let some of it out now.

They let you run around, and go back to their own conversations. Occasionally someone films the two of you, many of the clips either ending up on their Instagram stories or on their Tiktok’s. You had no clue about any of it though, as you were having the time of your life running with Kyra.

You were grateful for the sandwiches that Leah made for you, when your stomach started growling. Grabbing both yours and Kyra’s backpack, you head back to her. She was sitting by the window, watching the planes move around in the distance. Like Leah had suggested, you shared the sandwiches with Kyra, getting through quite a few of them until Kyra pulled a ball from her backpack, with a sly smile on her face.

The two of you start kicking the ball back and forth for a bit, before you start to do keep ups together, trying to not let the ball hit the ground. That’s when Katie steps in, and grabs the ball from midair, “Where did you even get a ball?” The older woman asks. “From Kyra’s backpack.” You say in defence, raising your hands up in surrender. Kyra rolls her eyes at how quickly you threw her under the bus, but she would’ve done the same thing if it would have been Leah that stepped in. Katie takes the ball with her, as she sits back down next to Caitlin. “Kids.” She shakes her head, but looks in your direction with a smile.

Once the plane had taken off, it didn’t take long for both you and Kyra to fall asleep.

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leahwilliamsonn just posted to their story

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Only to be full of energy again as the both of you woke up when the plane landed. You were bouncing your legs up and down, waiting to be able to get off the plane. There was no time for you to let out your energy now, as you went straight to baggage claim and onto the bus that was waiting to get you to the stadium you would be playing in a couple of days.

However, the moment that you set foot onto the field, you were back to running around on the field with Kyra in tow. Occasionally either one of you would be taken aside to take a picture with some of your teammates, but you always found each other again.

Once Kyra was taken aside by Alessia for a picture, you ran over to Leah. The girl welcomed you with open arms, “Hi kiddo, having fun so far?” You step into her arms, and hug her tight. “Yes, I can’t wait to play here.” You stay in her arms with your head leaned against her chest.

Kyra walked back up to you with a ball in hand. You look up to Leah, “Yeah, go on. Have fun.” And with that you made your way onto the field with Kyra, finishing the game of keep ups that was interrupted in the airport.

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#arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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seokjinsonlyone · 2 years

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this how i think bts would be if you both knew you liked each other but you weren’t dating yet

a/n: you guys been looking forward to this one hope it lives up to your expectations 🥹👉👈 and you should like totally lemme know what you thought about it after you're done

namjoon:

calls you on the phone every night; asks about your day and genuinely wants to know every little detail no matter how insignificant; gets shy when you ask about his

always extends an invite to you to join him at a museum; he goes to so many so often so he understands if you can’t go every time but he really likes it when you can go; likes hearing your thoughts on different pieces no matter how ridiculous bc you’re really not that well versed in art and architecture; he also likes the look in your eye and how intently you listen to him when he actually explains the intent behind the art

wraps his arms all the way around you, completely engulfing you when you hug; gives you an extra squeeze and rubs circles on your lower back before letting go

pet names start slipping out willy nilly; beautiful, princess, pretty girl, lovely; like the more and longer he likes you the less your name come out his mouth

he got mad rizz dog; like everyone once in a while he's gonna hit you with a pick up line that catches you off guard; gon have you giggling and blushing; but he also will be giggling and blushing afterward bc he gets shy after being cute

lowkey wants your approval for everything; doesn’t NEED it but he’d like it tho for sure; like would let you listen to his unreleased music and wait with bated breath while you listened until you gushed about how good it all was

if someone came up to him while y’all were hanging out and started flirting with him he would not notice at all; you’d wait until he was done carrying on the conversation and (semi)jokingly be like “so when’s the date” and he’d be soooo confused; “huh?” “they were totally flirting with you!” “really?” “if they smiled any harder they cheeks would’ve split open and did you see how hard they were laughing? you not that funny joon 🙄” “i’m sorry i didn’t notice. i promise i wasn’t flirting back tho. the only person i wanna flirt with is you.”

seokjin:

turns red whenever you’re around; like just constantly feels called out even if no one said anything bc it’s like he knows how he feels, all his friends know how he feels, and most importantly you know how he feels; embarazzing

becomes your local fruit dealer; like whenever his family or friends give him a bunch of produce from their various farms you’re definitely on the list of people he gifts them too; he gives you a bigger share than his members too <3

sends you pictures of the food he cooks and always saves you a plate after hearing you talk about how good it looks

asks for your switch code and invites you to play games with him whenever he has down time; like will stay up to 4am playing mario strikers or nintendo switch sports with you

gets really good at origami bc one time you met up and he felt awkward not having anything to get you so he used the gum wrapper in his pocket to make you a paper airplane; now every time you meet up he has a new paper sculpture; like you end up with a whole drawer of paper hats, planes, cups, flowers, frogs, ninja stars; has a cute little message written inside that makes you smile each time you unfold them

overly helpful; like he tryna do whatever he can for you; he’s holding your bag, opening doors for you, at one point he even goes so far as to lay his jacket on the bench y’all sitting on so your butt won’t be cold 💀

his number one goal when y’all are around each other is to make you laugh; like it doesn’t really matter if you’re laughing with him or at him as long as he hears that cackle he considers the interaction a success

yoongi:

not used to initiating any kind of interaction (outside of work) with people so he just lingers around you and hopes something happens; takes you a while to realize that’s his way of asking for attention

pretty much willing to go along with whatever to make you happy; like if you were complaining about never having anyone to go to the store with he’d offer himself up so fast and that’s how you’d end up with him in ulta helping you pick out lashes

has to get scolded by seokjin repeatedly bc the one text he sent him in the past month was left on read but he replies to you almost immediately every time you message him

silently takes care of you; like if you were eating together and got choked up on something he's just gonna get up and get you a bottle of water then slide it over without ever looking you in the eye; or if you complained about your hands being cold he'd start carrying around those hand warmer pouch thingies waiting for the next time you said something then he'd just put them in your pocket

starts opening up to you 🥺

it may not last for long but when you’re speaking with him he’ll look directly into your eyes

his hands flinch a lot when you're around; sometimes he's just hit with the inexplicable urge to hold your hand or touch you in some sort of way but he hasn't quite figured out y'all's dynamic yet so he's afraid to go for it

hoseok:

becomes zendayafied; like if you think it’s bad with jimin… you ain’t seen the worst of it; you might as well be richard pryor at the apollo the way he be cracking up over any and every little thing you do; his laugh can be heard halfway across the world

he stalks your ig page and replies to all your stories with a series of emojis; shows them to his friends and goes on and on about how cute you are

sends you a bouquet of flowers and texts you a little later on asking if you got them so you send him a picture of you holding them and he responds “☹️ i was hoping you’d be in the pic but all i see are flowers”

notices the little things about you; like he’s the type to compliment your earrings or your nail color

thinks everything you do is like super great; like if you drew a little doodle on a post it note or something he's gonna keep it and in his phone case; like 100% the type to actually display a painting you did in his house even if you feel like it looks like an 8 year old did it

has a special hyper focus on you; i just imagine y'all being at a party and you're in a group and he's being hobi ya know chopping it up with everyone kekeing and the like and you could be there next to him but not really actively participating in the conversation but if you tried to slip away to like get a drink or whatever he would grab your wrist and licherally stop mid sentence to ask you where you were going; would leave the group to go do whatever you wanted to do as well

adds a bunch of heart emojis to your contact in his phone; [yn ❤️😍💜🥰💞😘💖🤩💓😚💘]

jimin:

buys you a scarf when it gets chilly bc he notices you never have one on and he doesn’t want you to catch a cold; personally wraps it around your neck himself before you go outside

perpetual flirt; like there's some kind of innuendo to everything he says to you

is able to pick up on your moods scary easily so he knows when you’re a bit off and lets you know he’s willing to listen if u wanna talk; whether you choose to take him up on his offer or not he gives a really big, tight, long hug which helps you out more than you’re willing to admit

is easily flustered by you; like if you told him you liked his hair or his sweater or something he's gonna do that thing he does where he looks down, smiles, and then hides his face

always trying to impress you; like if you told him you admired people who were good at art he finna brush up on his skills a little and then next time you see him he gon have a sketch pad in fron t of him doing some crazy doodles; or if you told him you liked his voice when you're around he'll be acting like he's being nonchalant playing it cool but be putting in mad effort humming one of your favorite songs adding in some jazmine sullivan type runs

tries to meet up with you as much as possible; like your presence is addicting to him and he wants to take in all that he can; definitely calls you at some point if he can't see you that day even if it's like 1am and you're definitely asleep he's gonna chance it and call you; "are you awake?" "no" "oh i'm sorry i'm sorry i just missed you today" "missed you too mini" "i bet you looked pretty" "thank you but you have to let me get back to sleep" "alright alright imma let you go but one more question" "what's up?" *starts giggling* "what are you wearing right now?😏" "😐 i'm hanging up" *giggles even harder* "okay okay i'm done i'm sorry for waking you sleep tight beautiful" "night mini"; and then he's awake for another hour and a half staring at the ceiling with a big smile on his face thinking about how much he likes you

always walks you to your door when he's dropping you off home and won't leave until you inside with the door closed even if you insist on seeing him off as well so you just gotta watch him walk off from the window

taehyung:

gets shy after complimenting you; the “you look really pretty today” to tata mic face pipeline is strong

goes out of his way to find out when you'll be at certain places and then acts like it's a coincidence when y'all run into each other

feels all tingly inside when you like something he recommended; like if he recommended you a song and you listened to it later and then texted him about how much you loved it you would not be able to wipe the grin off his face

he fishes for compliments from you; like will get all dolled up in his 3 piece suit, hair slicked back just bc he knows you’ll be around and wants you to tell him he looks nice; if you don’t initiate it he will; will stand next to you and be like “ahh i just felt like wearing this today, it’s my favorite one. i think it looks nice. doesn’t it?”

squishes your cheeks between his hands when he deems you as being too cute

takes an active interest in your interests; like if you were really into some group and you told him about it he'd go and listen to their songs and send you his favorites and if they ever toured he's definitely getting y'all tickets to their show; or if you really liked to do paper mache or something he's gonna set aside a day for you to show him how to do it

has his arm around the back of your chair when y’all sit next to each other bc he can’t work up the nerve to actually put his arm around you

jungkook:

walks so close to you that your hand bumps together with every step; takes about five minutes of contemplation and hand flinching before he takes your hand in his; probably puts your conjoined hands in his pocket; looks down at you for about five seconds to gauge your reaction but quickly looks away when you make eye contact; tips of his ears are red the whole time

invites you over to play with his dogs, literally; no funny business is happening; he can’t be with you like that when he likes you as much as he does not until y’all are official just so he has confirmation that you’re on the same page

he be staring at you; like whenever you not looking at him he’s looking at you; watching, observing, admiring, mentally cataloguing all your little quirks, stockpiling them for a rainy day (re: waiting for the right time he can jokingly imitate you)

sometimes it feels like it’s one step forward two steps back with him bc every time he reaches what he feels is “the next level” he has to stop and reevaluate his feelings so he gets distant; but when he’s sure of how he feels again he goes back to following behind you like a lil puppy

his crush on you gets fatter whenever y’all are in a group conversation bc you always notice when he’s trying to say something but can’t find the right timing and create an opening for him to speak

always sits next to you; like there could be 10 empty seats in a room and he's always gonna jam himself as close to you as possible even if he doesn't plan on saying anything

y'all would have a couple late night convenience store dates; like y'all would be on the phone at like midnight talking about how you're craving ramen and snacks and next thing you know he's offering to pick you up and then you sitting next to him in da local 7/11 wit a cup ramen, a diet coke, and some sour gummy worms; he'd lightly gasp and go stiff for a second before relaxing a bit if you randomly laid your head on his shoulder after you finished your food complaining about how full and tired you were; would go back and forth with himself over whether he should just wrap his arm around you but ultimately just decides on leaning his head against yours in return

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #taehyung fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #kim seokjin x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #hobi fic #j hope fanfic #hoseok x you #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader

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doctorbitchcrxft · 6 months

Text

Bloody Mary | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, mentions/descriptions of parental death, implication of suicide (take care of yourselves, my loves)

Word Count: 6379

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You and Dean hadn’t talked much since the events on the plane. In fact, the two of you barely looked at each other anymore. Not out of disgust, your stomach just fluttered every time you caught a glimpse of him for reasons you couldn’t explain. You didn’t exactly like him, but you definitely didn’t hate him, either. In fact, your most recent journal drawing had been of your hand wrapped in Dean’s. You smiled at the memory.

Sam slept in the front seat while Dean drove the three of you to Toledo, Ohio. You had actually been the one to find this case. Steven Shoemaker’s eyes had bled when he died. According to his obituary, his death had been swift. He was much too young to have had a stroke or an aneurysm, and seemed to be in good health. Therefore, you concluded this was your kind of gig.

Sam began to stir, catching your attention. You straightened in your seat as the Impala came to a halt in front of a large hospital complex. Sam’s stirring and whimpering was getting worse by the second.

Dean shook his brother. “Sam, wake up.”

He bolted straight up, confused, taking both you and Dean by surprise. After taking a second to catch his breath, he said, “I take it I was having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, another one,” Dean reminded him.

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam’s faux optimism caused you to shake your head.

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.”

Apparently, Sam was choosing the latter. “Are we here?” he asked.

Dean was happy to drop the subject, too. “Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

The three of you began to approach the morgue wing of the hospital. You noticed Sam was holding the newspaper you’d circled Mr. Shoemaker’s death in. “So what do you think really happened to this guy?”

“That's what we're gonna find out. Ladies first,” you joked, holding the door to the first floor of the hospital open for the brothers.

After making your way through the labyrinth of hallways, you found the dimly lit and vacated morgue. In the large room were two desks. One was labeled with a nameplate for Dr. D. Feiklowicz with neatly stacked packets, files, and books atop it. The other was a chaotic mess of stray papers labeled “Morgue Technician.”

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah. We're the, uh, med students,” Dean responded.

“Sorry?” the morgue tech asked.

“Oh, Doctor—” Dean gave his best shot at the name, “—Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He— uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” The morgue tech was smug, snarky, and clearly lacked people skills.

‘No wonder they have him locked up down here,’ you thought.

Dean changed course. “Oh, well, he said, uh— oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can't.” The morgue tech gave a tight-lipped smile. “Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.”

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then,” Dean tried. “Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—”

“Uh, look, man,” the technician mocked, “No.”

Dean laughed a little and turned around, mumbling. “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.”

You took the opportunity to try a different tactic. You leaned down on the morgue technician’s desk, doing your best to take advantage of the fact that he probably has had little contact with women. “Please?” you asked innocently. “These guys are my tutors. I’m really struggling in this class, and I just—” you bit your lip, “—I really need a good grade on this paper.” You used your arms to push your breasts together. “Please?”

You could tell you had him on the ropes. “Uh…” He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your cleavage. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I guess I could do that for you.”

You smiled innocently. “Thank you so much.”

He began leading the three of you into an attached room to where the bodies were stored for autopsies. You turned around and winked at the boys with a smug smile. Dean rolled his eyes.

The morgue technician pulled the rack Steven Shoemaker’s corpse rested on out from the wall of stainless steel cells.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding,” Sam said.

The technician pulled the sheet back from over Steven’s face. “More than that. They practically liquefied.” The poor man’s eye sockets were still bloody, and they hadn’t yet been sewn shut. You could see the dried blood peeking out from under his partially-closed eyes.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean suggested.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone,” the technician answered.

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam asked.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.”

‘Nope, he’s way too young and in much too good health for that to have been the cause,’ you thought, but kept the thought at bay.

“What do you mean?” you asked. You didn’t like playing dumb, but with this guy, it was necessary.

“Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen,” the tech answered. Although, he was more responding to your boobs than to your face. You fought the urge to snap in front of his face and get his eyes back on target.

“The eyes?” Sam asked. “What would cause something like that?”

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims,” the morgue tech shrugged.

Dean’s tone was still aggravated with the guy. “Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?”

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.”

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.”

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” The technician looked back at you.

You suppressed the bile rising in your throat. Before you could do anything else, Dean stepped in front of you and pulled out his wallet. He shoved two twenties at him, hoping that would be enough. You could see the technician deflate, but accepted the money anyway.

Dean’s actions puzzled you. But you would be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter at the thought of him doing it out of protectiveness of you.

When you had finished looking over the police report, the three of you began making your way out of the building.

“Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing,” Sam suggested after having seen the report.

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean replied.

“Uh, almost never.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright, let's go talk to the daughter.” Sam started picking up his pace out of the building. You were happy to see him getting his mind off Jessica and back into the job.

“Wait, Dean.” You grabbed his arm lightly before he could catch up to his brother.

He turned to face you.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked.

“Do what?” He furrowed his brow.

“Give the morgue tech your hard-earned poker money,” you half-smiled.

“I just didn’t wanna watch you prostitute yourself for information,” he replied gruffly, turning away from you.

You took offense. “Hey, I was not—”

He turned back to you and brushed a hand over his hair. “You’re right, you werent.” He paused again, and his voice came back quiet. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you, ‘s all.”

Your heart swelled in your chest and your cheeks began to heat up. “Thanks, by the way,” you said as you continued walking. You nudged his shoulder with yours. “You’re going soft on me, Winchester.”

***

When you arrived at the Shoemaker house, you hadn’t expected to be in the midst of the funeral gathering. If you did, you would’ve dressed more appropriately. Given this fact, you felt slightly awkward when you knocked on the door. A man let you in and pointed you toward the backyard and the two daughters of Steven Shoemaker.

The two sisters were sitting with two blonde girls near the firepit. Dean addressed the older, dark-haired girl. “You must be Donna, right?”

“Yeah,” the girl responded.

“Hi, uh, we're really sorry,” Sam lamented.

“Thank you.”

“I'm Sam, this is Dean and (Y/N). We worked with your dad.”

The girl looked at her friend before looking back at your trio. “You did?” She seemed surprised.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke…” Sam trailed off.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now,” one of Donna’s pretty blonde friends spoke up.

“It's okay. I'm okay,” she assured her friend.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” Dean asked.

Donna shook her head. “No.”

The younger sister, who looked to be about twelve, turned around. “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

You were intrigued.

“Lily, don't say that,” her sister urged her.

“What do you mean?” you asked the young girl.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset,” her sister responded for her.

“No,” Lily wasn’t having it. “It happened because of me.”

Donna placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sweetie, it didn't.”

You got down on Lily’s eye level. “Why would you say that?”

“Right before he died, I said it,” she said softly.

“Said what?”

She lowered her voice even more. “Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does.”

Donna interrupted. “That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.”

“I think your sister's right, Lily,” Dean broke in. “There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?”

Lily tried to take this in. She shook her head.

“Exactly,” you told her. “I’m sorry, we weren’t trying to upset you. We’ll just be leaving.” You pulled the boys away from Donna’s group and went back into the house. Making sure no one saw you three, you crept upstairs to the bathroom where Mr. Shoemaker passed away.

Sam pushed the door open, and you noticed some dried blood still on the floor. “The Bloody Mary legend. Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

“Not that I know of,” Dean replied. He walked ahead of Sam into the bathroom.

Sam stooped to the floor and touched the dried blood. “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’s fine everywhere else, but not here,” you suggested.

“The place where the legend began?” Sam tried.

You shrugged as Dean opened the medicine cabinet.

“But according to the legend, the person who says B—” you stopped yourself and noticed your reflection in the medicine cabinet’s mirror. “You know what is the one that dies. But here—”

“Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah,” Dean finished for you.

Sam rose from the floor. “Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you-know-who scratches your eyes out.”

You considered Dean’s words for a moment. “It's worth checking in to.” You went to leave the bathroom when you noticed one of Donna’s pretty blonde friends approaching you.

“What are you doing up here?” she asked.

“We— We had to go to the bathroom,” you answered, not believing yourself.

“Who are you?” the girl pressed further.

Dean stepped closer to you from behind. “Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.”

She shook her head with scrunched eyebrows. “He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.”

“No, I know, I meant—”

She cut Dean off. “And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.”

Sam put a hand up to calm her. “Alright, alright, we think something happened to Donna's dad.”

The blonde looked at you three like you were stupid. “Yeah, a stroke.”

“I don’t think so,” you argued. “He was pretty young to be having a stroke. His eyes wouldn’t have liquified if he’d had a stroke. I think it might be something else.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms. “Like what?’

“Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth,” Sam responded.

“So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead,” Dean snarked.

“Who are you, cops?” she asked, her brows still furrowed.

“Something like that,” you shrugged.

“I'll tell you what. Here.” Sam took a piece of paper and a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his phone number down. “If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call.” He handed her the piece of paper before leading you and Dean down the hallway.

Your next stop was the public library.

“Alright, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town,” Dean began. “There's gonna be some sort of proof— Like a local woman who died nasty.”

“Yeah, but this is hard. The legend is unbelievably widespread with hundreds of different versions of who she actually is,” you rebutted. “One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more.”

“Okay, then, so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asked you.

Sam answered. “Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers, public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.”

“Well, that sounds annoying,” the older brother commented.

“No, it won't be so bad,” Sam replied, “As long as we…”

You cleared your throat, gesturing to the only two computers in the library that had “Out of Order” signs on them.

Sam chuckled humorlessly. “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

The three of you picked up boxes of the town’s newspapers and numerous books of Toledo’s public records and brought them back to Sam and Dean’s motel room.

You were beginning to go cross-eyed after reading for so long. Minutes turned into hours. Dean was sitting in a chair, you were sprawled across the floor with papers and books scattered around you, and Sam eventually fell asleep.

You stood up to stretch your legs and noticed his closed eyes. “Poor fella,” you said quietly. “How’s he been sleeping?”

“How d’you think?” Dean responded, eyes never leaving his book.

You nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Maybe we should get him to take something,” you suggested.

Dean chuckled. “He won’t do it.”

“Is it just because I’m suggesting it that you’re saying that, or do you really think he won’t take it?” you countered.

He gave you a deadpan expression.

“You Winchesters are just about the most stubborn people I’ve ever met in my life. Including your dad,” you jested. You heard Dean chuckle a little, too.

“And I wanted to tell you,” you started, “I understand why you’d suspect me in your dad’s disappearance.”

He looked away from his book and over at you. “What do you mean?”

“What you said back in Colorado? The Wendigo case? I get it.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re still on that?”

“I mean, yeah, that was just about the most heated fight we’ve had. It kinda stuck with me,” you answered honestly, looking down at your stripey-sock-covered feet. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I understand.”

A moment passed silently.

“And I, um—” you took a deep breath, “I want you to trust me.” You looked back at Dean who was studying you carefully.

The tense moment was interrupted by Sam jolting awake in his bed. “Why'd you let me fall asleep?”

“Cause I'm an awesome brother.” Dean’s attention was back on his book. “So what did you dream about?”

“Lollipops and candy canes,” the younger brother responded hazily while staring up at the ceiling.

You laughed humorlessly.

“Did you guys find anything?” Sam asked.

“Oh, besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean responded sarcastically. “No. I've looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror—”

“And a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave—” you chimed in.

“But no Mary,” Dean finished for you.

“Maybe we just haven't found it yet,” Sam tried.

“I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know… eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary,” Dean said.

Sam’s phone rang just as his brother finished talking. “Hello?” A look of concern crossed his face. He was trying to calm whoever it was on the other end down.

You waited until he got off the phone to bombard him with questions. “What? What happened?”

“Charlie,” he told you. “Her friend’s dead.”

***

Charlie sobbed as she relayed the story of what happened to her friend Jill. “And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her— her eyes. They were gone.”

You had met her in a park not an hour after she had called Sam.

“I'm sorry,” the latter responded.

“And she said it,” Charlie told you. “I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?”

“No, you're not insane,” you said.

“Oh, god, that makes me feel so much worse.” You feared that might be the case.

Sam was honest with her. “Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained.”

“And we're gonna stop it,” Dean assured Charlie, “but we could use your help.”

You knew exactly where Dean was going with this. And thankfully, Charlie obliged. She snuck you and the boys into Jill’s room through the window. Dean and Sam gave you a boost into the second story room before throwing up Dean’s duffel bag.

“What did you tell Jill's mom?” you asked Charlie.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things,” she replied simply. “I hate lying to her.”

You heard someone closing the blinds and curtains behind you. “Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights,” Dean instructed her.

She obeyed but asked, “What are you guys looking for?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it,” the older brother responded.

Sam handed you a digital camera. “Hey, night vision!” You turned it on. You aimed the camera at Dean.

“Do I look like Paris Hilton?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing an amused smile. You walked over to Jill’s closet door and began filming the mirror on it.

“So I don't get it,” Sam began. “I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?”

You shrugged.

“Beats me,” Dean answered. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.”

“It was just a joke,” Charlie replied.

“Yeah, well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.”

You had made your way over to the bathroom and filmed around the mirror. You stopped when you noticed a trickle of something running from behind it. “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?” He came over to you.

“Look at this.” You showed him the substance oozing from behind the mirror.

Sam looked to his brother. “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

While Dean left to get the light, you and Sam pulled the mirror off the wall. When Dean returned, you could see a handprint and the name “Gary Bryman” illuminated by the black light.

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie asked.

You looked up at her. “You know who that is?”

She shook her head. “No.”

You learned from Sam’s research and Charlie that Jill had killed Gary Bryman, an eight-year-old boy, in a hit and run accident. Dean then decided you needed to return to Donna’s house. When you pulled the medicine cabinet mirror off the wall, sure enough, there was another handprint and the name “Linda Shoemaker.” You learned from Donna that her mother had overdosed on sleeping pills. You had left Charlie at Donna’s house to comfort her friend after you and the boys had upset her with your questions about her mother’s death.

You then traveled to Fort Wayne, Indiana to investigate the death of a woman named Mary Worthington. She had died the same way these victims were; bleeding from the sockets where her eyes used to be. You spoke to the detective who was the lead on her case. He believed she spent her last moments trying to expose her killer she was having an affair with. She went as far as to start spelling out the name of her killer in her own blood on the back of her mirror. She only got to the third letter of her killer’s name before passing away. It made complete sense to you that her spirit would spend its time exposing the secrets of other murderers. Mary Worthington’s body had been cremated, but the mirror she wrote on had been returned to her family. Now, you and the boys were trying to track down where that mirror had ended up.

“Oh really?” Sam responded to the man on the phone. “Ah, that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror… Okay, well maybe next time… Alright, thanks.” He hung up.

“So?” you asked.

“So that was Mary's brother,” he informed you. “The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.”

Dean momentarily looked away from the road to his brother. “So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?”

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow,” Sam responded.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” you chimed in.

“Yeah, there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped.”

Dean connected the dots. “So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit.”

“Yeah, but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?” you challenged.

“I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.”

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe,” Sam sighed. His phone rang. “Hello?... Charlie?”

***

You and the boys picked up Charlie and brought her to the motel you were staying in. You and the Winchesters were busying yourselves with covering every reflective surface in Sam and Dean’s room with sheets, blankets, jackets; anything. Charlie’s gorgeous blonde hair was knotted and messy, her eyes were puffy from crying but remained closed, and her knees were drawn into her chest.

Sam sat on the bed next to Charlie. “Hey, hey, it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, alright?”

She looked up slowly.

“Now listen,” he began softly. “You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” Charlie’s voice trembled.

“No. No. Not anytime soon,” the brunet assured her.

You sat on the floor in front of her and put a hand on her knee. “We need to know what happened, babe.”

“We were in the bathroom.” Her eyes brimmed with tears again. “Donna said it.”

“That's not what we're talking about,” Dean stated. There was something dark behind his tone. “Something happened, didn't it? In your life— .a secret— where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?”

The tears were flowing from her eyes now. “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She pulled her knees back to her chest and buried her face between them.

You felt completely horrible for her. But there was no time for a therapy session because you and the boys were off to that Toledo antique store where Mary’s mirror was being kept.

Dean sped down the road despite the pouring rain which you deeply wanted to protest against. You remained silent anyway.

“You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.” Dean broke the silence.

“You know spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, somebody died, and that's good enough for Mary,” you told him.

“I guess,” he shrugged.

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror,” Sam chimed in.

Dean turned his head to his brother. “Why, what do you mean?”

“Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.”

“Well, how do you know that's going to work?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head. “I don't; not for sure.”

“Well who's gonna summon her?” his brother’s tone got a little panicked.

“I will. She'll come after me,” Sam replied solemnly.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean pulled over to the side of the road. “This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night— it's gonna kill you. Now, listen to me, it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.” Sam’s voice cracked.

“Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done,” Dean responded sharply.

Sam tried to shake his emotion away. “I could've warned her.”

“About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway,” Dean said.

“No you don't,” was all Sam could muster.

“I don't what?”

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.”

You had been trying to stay out of it, but couldn’t hold it back anymore. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?”

You and Dean were taken aback. “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.”

“Guys, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.”

Dean gripped the steering wheel, clenched his jaw, and pulled back out onto the road. The air was heavy and tense in the car. You sat back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest. No one spoke for the rest of the drive.

When you reached the shop, you picked the lock on the door to reveal dozens of mirrors.

“Well, that's just great,” Dean grumbled. He pulled out the picture you’d gotten from the detective in Indiana of Mary’s body next to the mirror. “Alright, let's start looking.”

The three of you split up. You were an incredibly detail-oriented person, but even still, all of the mirrors seemed the same to you.

“Maybe they've already sold it,” Dean called from across the room.

Your flashlight came to rest on a mirror you could swear you’d seen before. “I don't think so. C’mere, Dean.”

He came over to you and held up the photo to the mirror. And sure enough, it was a match.

“You sure about this?” Dean asked his brother.

Sam nodded and handed you his flashlight. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.”

You whipped your head in the direction of a light coming through the store.

“I'll go check that out. Stay here, be careful,” Dean ordered. “Smash anything that moves.” He crawled away from you and you heard him distantly say, “Crap.”

You paid no mind to Dean as you tightened your grip on the crowbar.

You heard a whooshing sound behind you and wheeled around. In the mirror was Mary. You sprang to action and smashed your crowbar through the dead center of it.

You could hear a distorted version of Sam’s voice coming from behind you, but before you could aid him, your own reflection caught your attention. It wasn’t quite syncing with your movements; instead looking at you menacingly.

Before you could move to hit it, you felt an insane pressure coming from behind your eyes, your throat constricted, and blood began to ooze down your face.

“You can’t keep running, (Y/N),” your reflection told you. “How could you? How could you be so careless?”

The blood dripping from your eyes began to mix with your tears. You didn’t have enough breath to protest. You began to sink to the floor, the crowbar clanging to the ground.

“It’s your fault that they’re gone. Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you fight to keep them alive? Why did you have to kill them? Your guilt should eat you alive. You don’t deserve another family. You know you don’t deserve to be happy again. You know your recklessness will get these boys killed, too. You are so selfish! And your brother! If you hadn’t done what you did, he would still be alive, too. You are worthless. All you bring is death and—”

The pressure around your throat released when Dean’s crowbar went through the mirror. He barely spared you a second look before going over to his brother.

“Sam, Sammy!” you heard from behind you.

You clutched at your throat and began to cry. You knew Dean had turned cold once more because he heard what your reflection said.

Sam groaned in pain as you saw Dean shouldering his brother and pulling him toward the exit of the shop.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you.

You shakily stood and did your best to follow the brothers out. Your dizziness caused you to fall back down to the ground on top of shards of glass, making you yelp as they pierced your hands.

“Help her, Dean!” you heard Sam demand.

Dean came to your side, clearly in no hurry, and cradled you in his arms. Before he could get anymore than two steps, you noticed Mary crawling out of the frame of her original mirror. Her dark hair was matted and fell in front of her face. Her dress was tattered, and her limbs moved in an inhuman manner; cracking with every movement. You and Dean were sent flying across the floor toward Sam, and the bleeding of your eyes started again.

You looked to the mirror inches from your head. Despite your weakness, you forced yourself to grab it and turn its face toward Mary.

“You killed them!” you heard her reflection cry. “All those people! You killed them!” Mary started choking just as you had and then melted into a pool of blood on the ground. You threw the mirror you’d been holding and shattered it completely.

You dropped your head back to the floor.

“Hey Sam?” you heard Dean say.

“Yeah?”

“This has got to be like,what, six hundred years of bad luck?” the older brother joked.

Sam chuckled weakly. You couldn’t even muster up a laugh due to the bile rising in your throat. Memories were eating away at you, and the fact that Dean had heard your reflection was only adding to your anxiety. Your breath began to quicken, but you did your best to soothe yourself.

“(Y/N).” Sam drew you out of your trance. “Can you stand?”

You tried your best to, but couldn’t. Dean squatted down next to you. “C’mon.” He motioned for you to let him carry you. You complied. You looked up at his chiseled face. You swore he was handcrafted by the gods; perhaps Adonis himself. Your hazy mind couldn’t focus on anything aside from his beautiful green eyes. You had so much to say to him about what he’d heard. You knew he didn’t think highly of you, but your relationship had begun to get better. You didn’t want, well, you, to ruin it all now.

“Dean, I—” you started.

He cut you off. “We’ll talk later,” he said gruffly. Despite his cold and guarded tone, he put you down gently in the back of the Impala.

You ended up falling asleep in the back of the Impala. When you next awoke, you had been tucked into your bed in the motel. Your boots had been discarded, your jacket had been removed, and your key that you kept in your jacket pocket was now on the nightstand beside you. The gesture was sweet, but your mind immediately started reeling about the conversation you needed to have with Dean.

You checked the clock; it was ten in the morning. You were surprised how late you had slept, and figured the boys had dropped Charlie off; potentially had even left town without you. Your anxiety getting the best of you, you rushed over to their door. Dean opened it when you knocked.

“Hey,” you breathed.

“Hey,” he echoed.

“Can we talk?”

He nodded.

You led Dean back to your room. You sat cross-legged on your bed and Dean chose the chair across from you.

“Okay, um,” you sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Who’d you kill, (Y/N)?” came his straightforward and dry response. “Why did it say you’d get us killed, too?”

You looked down at the floor, the tears beginning to well up in your waterline. “I wanna tell you, I just—”

“Look at me.” His voice was firm.

You did.

“I need to know.”

You took a deep breath. “When I was eighteen, I was coming back home from one of my first solo hunts. My dad had sent me to take out a vampire nest on the edge of the town we were staying in. There were only three vamps there at the time. I got so excited that I had nuked them all, I didn’t account for the fact that all three of them seemed like newbies. I didn’t… register, I guess, that one or more was probably missing.” You averted his gaze, struggling to keep your voice level. “And so, I left. I went back to the house we were squatting in, and, um, one of them followed me.” Tears began to roll down your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, that’s not your—”

You shook your head. “It is. He turned them, Dean. He turned my mom and my dad. I— I had no choice. I had to—” Your sentence was cut off by a sob, but Dean understood what you meant. You wiped a hand over your face and did your best to continue your story. “I sat with their bodies for a long time after. When my brother came back and saw what I’d done, he drew his gun on me. He, um, he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t let me explain. He couldn’t shoot me, though. He… He just… left. And then— And then, his best friend called me a few days later.” The tears came back. “He found my brother’s car.” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “And he was dead in it.” Broken sobs wracked your body once again. “It’s my fault that they’re gone, Dean, it’s my fault.”

You couldn’t bear to look at him. You knew how disgusted he must be with you. And then, you felt the bed dip beside you. Then, a hand on your arm. Then, he pulled you to his chest, and you melted into his embrace. Your cries still shook your body, but Dean’s strong arms held you together. He sat with you like that for a long time.

You and the boys had decided to leave Toledo sooner rather than later after Sam told you what Dean had done to the cops in front of the antique store. Long after leaving Toledo, Dean broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the car.

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.”

The younger Winchester sighed. “Look, you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.”

Your eyes remained trained on Sam as he looked out the window at something you were passing by. His expression went from confused to scared to saddened, and you knew he was seeing Jessica. After all, you had no doubt your face mirrored his every time you saw your mom standing on a street corner or your dad’s bloodied body lying in your footpath. In time, you knew he would learn to live with it just as you had.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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kitty-tea · 7 months

Text

Teaching the teacher a lesson

Remus Lupin x teacher!reader

Sorry I couldn’t come up with a better title. Also there’s straight up BDSM in this, so don’t read if you’re a minor I guess.

Summary: you get a job as a teacher where you see your old teacher crush, Remus Lupin, and you couldn’t be any happier. He, however notices how much you’ve changed.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, nsfw, age gap, awkward sexual tension, mutual pining, teacher crush, dacryphilia kink, bdsm elements, dom/sub, teasing

Link to masterlist

The first day of school was just so (not) wonderful for Remus Lupin. He’d give anything to be able to shut himself in his classroom and not have to supervise the cafeteria during lunch.

He awkwardly shifted his weight on both legs as he scanned the room to make sure none of the students misbehaved. Instead of misbehaving students, his eyes landed on you next to a table nearby, having a conversation with the younger kids. You were kneeling down to their level, probably oblivious to how your ass was sticking out in that tight pencil skirt.

Stop it! She’s your former student! He told himself that even though you were an adult, it was still inappropriate for him to have these thoughts about you, but another part of him wouldn’t listen.

Before he transferred to working with the primary school kids, the last time he’d seen you was the year you graduated before going to university.

From what he could remember about you, you were kind of a brat. More than any student, he’d constantly go on about rules you broke whether it was sitting on top of desks (or his desk specifically,) not wearing your uniform properly, not calling him by his last name, and you even threw paper planes at him!

Remus didn’t fail to notice how much you changed after all those years. He couldn’t believe he recognized you. He could see the makeup you wore enhancing your features, and those glasses you liked to ditch were now complimenting your face shape. Instead of your long hair messily hanging past your shoulders, you had it up in a neat high bun, making you look like a sophisticated young woman. He also noticed under your skirt and blouse that you put on a little weight, filling out some curves on your body.

He hoped you did not just catch him involuntarily looking at you as you smiled and waved at him.

“Hi Remus.” Your heels clicked behind you on the polished floor as you walked over to where he was. He cringed at the sound of your voice using his first name. Oh great. You never used to smile at him unless you were in on a prank.

“I didn’t know you taught at this school.” You were standing so close to him that he was able to hear you clearly over the noise of students chattering.

“I transferred after you graduated.” He stated, not returning your smile. He turned towards the students, so that he wouldn’t have to face you.

“What year do you teach?” You asked.

“I teach the youngest students.” He answered. He hoped you’d go away soon so that he could go back to moping in his own thoughts.

“So do I!” You replied a little too happily for his liking. He grimaced at the feeling in his stomach as his eyes met yours. He did not want to think about how they went to your lips which now had lip balm on them instead of them being chapped, along with the perfume you started wearing.

He also wished that what he suspected wasn’t true, that you weren’t supervising lunchtime with him. “What are you doing here?” He asked just to confirm it.

“I’m on lunch duty with you. I feel so much more at ease knowing that I’m coworkers with my old teacher.” You said.

His heart dropped out of his chest.

For the rest of lunch, he spent his time standing in the corner staring off or staying close to the kids, so that it looked like he was busy talking to them and not trying to ignore you (he was.)

Your heart on the other hand, leapt out of your chest as your eyes landed on Mr. Lupin, or Remus as you started calling him. You had the biggest crush on him for years ever since he became your teacher. It’s not like you tried denying your inappropriate attraction towards him by acting out and misbehaving when he was around you in what you now realized was an immature way to get his attention.

You knew you’d gone too far with your antics, so you thought you could redeem yourself in his eyes by starting to act cordial with him on your first day teaching.

You understood that your crush on your former teacher turned coworker definitely didn’t go away as you felt a dull ache and a warm spot forming in your panties.

You were an adult now, it wasn’t technically illegal to flirt with older men, but it was obviously unprofessional for you to flirt with another teacher that used to teach you, and one who was much older than you.

You had known Remus for years. You weren’t clueless. You saw the way his eyes struggled to keep themselves from wandering all over your body. After years of crushing on him, it was exciting for you to see him try to hide his growing attraction towards you as an adult.

After saying goodbye to your students for the day, you went over what you’d say to Remus in your head. You wanted to sincerely apologize to him for all that you put him through in addition to proposing a new start with him, this time as coworkers not student and teacher.

It wasn’t hard for you to find his classroom since it was next to yours and it had “Mr. Lupin Room 3C” written on a card taped to the door.

It didn’t take long for a gruff voice to reply with “come in” muffled by the wood after you knocked on it.

As you opened the door, the familiar feelings of your literal school-girl crush fluttered in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” He didn’t sound angry, just tired.

“I-” your words got stuck in your throat as he looked up from where he sat hunched down behind his desk. He certainly looked older than the last time you saw him before finishing school, but he was no less handsome in your eyes in that brown suit he used to wear when you were his student. Suddenly, you felt like the same immature student again, being asked to explain yourself as you nervously played with the hem of your sleeves.

“I just wanted to say hello.” You tried speaking again.

“You already have. During lunchtime.” You saw him grinding his jaw as his eyes raked over your body. He cleared his throat before standing up to grab his satchel and walk to the door, where you happened to be.

“Okay, I just wanted to say I’m sorry, then.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized how close he was standing in front of you. It seemed that you weren’t the only one either. He brushed his fingers through his brown hair, making you wish you could brush your fingers through them instead.

“For what?” He asked bemusedly.

“For being so annoying and giving you a hard time in school. I thought maybe we could start over?” You said hurriedly, blushing and looking at your high heels which were almost touching his loafers.

You bit your lip as you gazed into his eyes, hopeful he’d take up in your proposal. He looked down at your hand which you extended, as if considering the possibility.

“Nice try.” Your mouth hung open at his blank words and you didn’t know what to say.

“Excuse me?” Your hopes for starting a professional and cordial relationship with him were now ruined.

“Apologies are more than just words. You of all people should know that since I was the one who taught you that. Goodbye.” You gave him the same dirty look you used to give him as he turned his back towards you, leaving you alone in his classroom.

That was the first of your interactions with him in that school year. Being two teachers who taught students of the same year, you were often assigned together for most school related activities like yard duty, supervising lunch, and the field trips… you couldn’t stop the dull aching heat between your thighs as you both would have to sit on the same bench on the bus rides.

It was even worse when you were fidgeting in your seat one time, when all the sudden, the bus ran over a huge bump causing you to tumble on top of Remus with his knee under your skirt, between your legs. You had grasped onto his shoulders for stability and he had grabbed your waist when his eyes had widened as he realized where his knee had touched you. You were too frozen to where you couldn’t stop staring at his lips that were close enough to yours that if you leaned in a millimeter more, you’d kiss him.

“Sorry.” You let out an exhale which was interrupted as you realized how good your pussy felt when you rubbed it against his thigh in an attempt to get off of him.

You were thankful that your students were young and innocent enough not to suspect anything, not to jump to conclusions if they saw you in your compromising position.

For the rest of the bus ride, you tried not to think about how your new coworker had accidentally turned you on.

It wasn’t like Remus would ever try to deny your flirting. You knew this because he never actively pushed you away. Every time you’d pass by him, you’d give his shoulder or arm a little brush where you’d catch his hungry gaze on you.

You were alone in the teachers’ lounge, the rest of the staff having gone home already.

Even in heels, you still weren’t tall enough to reach for the folders that were on the top shelf, so you did what anybody would do and positioned yourself on the table so that your knees would hold your weight up.

A shiver went up your spine as you felt a presence behind you.

“Need help?” Remus’ husky voice made its way to your ear.

You were glad your back was turned to him so that he couldn’t see how red your cheeks had gotten. You were also glad that he didn’t wait for you to answer him as he reached above your head, making his weight shift onto your ass where you could’ve sworn you felt a bulge.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” You could’ve sworn he was smirking behind you as he set the empty folders next to you.

You turned around, hoping that he’d backed up to give you enough space to get off, but what you didn’t expect was for his hands to be on your waist, blocking you.

“What do you say?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Thank you.” You put your hand on his shoulder to use as leverage to get yourself down from the table.

“Wow. Seems you aren’t such a brat anymore.” He laughed.

“What does that supposed to mean?” You thought you had grown past your immature teenage self, but apparently you had let Remus get under your skin with his backhanded compliment.

“There she is.” He scoffed. “With that same fucking attitude that did no good. You’re not so high and mighty now just because you’re a teacher.”

You didn’t know if your face was red from anger, embarrassment, or something else.

“Don’t act like I haven’t been nice to you.” You countered back heatedly.

“Too nice.” His voice had gotten lower.

“Anyways,” you tried to ignore the tingling feeling in your stomach that erupted as you saw him gazing at your lips with the lack of distance between you. “I actually tried showing you how much I changed.”

He scoffed again.

“By being nice? You know flirting won’t get you anywhere.”

You realized he just admitted to you straight up that he caught onto your flirting.

“Don’t act as if you haven’t changed the way you used to look at me. I saw you checking me out on the first day of school.” This was your way of probing at him.

“What?! I-”

“It’s okay to stare. I know because I used to do it to you… Not that I stopped.” You purred, running your fingers lightly along his firm chest.

Remus grunted at the pleasurable sensation. You were driving him crazy, and not like how you used to when you were his student. Speaking of which, he kept reminding himself that what he was letting you do to him was unprofessional and inappropriate, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to stop you.

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to fuck the hot teacher.” Your lips were so almost touching his earlobe.

“Stop it.” He grabbed your wrists.

“Or else what? How are you gonna punish me?” You licked your lips. “Except you can’t. Because I’m the teacher.”

He realized you had a point as he let go of your wrists.

“How about this? It’s getting late, so I’ll order some food for us.” You suggested. Please say yes. You wished Remus could read your mind.

“You don’t have to do that for me.” He waved you off as he moved to grab his cardigan off the chair.

“Please. It’s the least I could do for you.” Remus felt a sliver of guilt at rejecting your proposal as you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. “And… I want to.”

After Remus had reluctantly taken up on your offer, you had ordered take out on your phone. By the time the food arrived, you were still fighting over who was going to pay. You insisted you pay because it was your idea and you wanted to do him a favor while he didn’t really have a counterargument other than he really wanted to pay. This led to him shoving cash into the driver’s hands and shutting the door before you had a chance to do anything.

“You did all that with your hands?” You rolled your eyes and laughed while nervously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“I can do other things with my hands too.”

Remus was unaware of how suggestive what he said was until you looked from his eyes to his crotch while licking your lips.

“I’d love to know what other things.” You said, making Remus swallow loudly at how low and seductive your voice sounded.

You both ate across the table from each other in an awkward silence, each of you mentally coming up with topics to discuss preferably away from whatever it is you were talking about earlier. Remus needed to find a way to cool down from the sexual tension from earlier.

“How was your life after you graduated?” Remus was the first to talk.

“It was a bit boring really. All I did was study in university, and didn't really go out much.” You said before shoving an entire dumpling in your mouth with your chopsticks. Remus couldn’t control the corner of his mouth as it turned upwards. You looked silly, like a cartoon chipmunk.

“How have you been?” You asked once you had swallowed your food.

“Alright.” He shrugged.

“Really? There’s got to be more. Haven’t you gone on any dates?” Remus’ eyes widened at your inquiries of his relationship status as he felt the tip of your shoes dipping under the hem of his trouser leg.

“No, actually.” He was able to compose himself enough to draw out a steady response as he tried to ignore how much his dick was starting to ache and the fact that he noticed you had taken off your shoe making him feel the soft nylon covering your foot gliding upward.

“That’s a shame. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

And I want that woman to be me, you thought.

While you enjoyed this little game you were playing with Remus, you didn’t like that it usually led to nowhere. You knew he wanted you as much as you wanted him. It was that obvious. You knew you were terrible at hiding your feelings for someone whenever you had a crush, but this time, with Remus you didn’t care. He wasn’t your teacher anymore, you were both adults, and you were equals. Something sparked within you every time you saw him get flustered around you. You wanted to keep that spark going. Even if it was a boring day where all the students had the day off for professional development day, leaving the school campus occupied by no one but the staff.

In addition to the staff meeting being extremely long, you could tell it was going to be extremely boring even though this was only your first year of teaching at the school.

You cursed yourself for waking up an hour later than you intended to, leaving you barely enough time to do anything other than throw on your clothes. You couldn’t prepare any breakfast for yourself or stop by a cafe, so you were left with lazily braiding your hair on the bus ride while mentally coming up with how you would apologize to everyone.

Clutching your book bag against the side of your body, you swung the door open to the staff room. Multiple eyes met yours, some glaring, others just blank, as if they were expecting you to be the type of young teacher to slack off.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” You apologized awkwardly as you tucked some hair behind your ear, being afraid to face the older staff whom you thought would silently berate you on your tardiness with their scowls.

“Nothing to worry about.” Your boss, Dumbledore was standing in front of the table with his hands folded in front of him. “Remus was kind enough to save a seat for you.”

True to his word, Remus was sitting next to an empty seat. He was looking at you with a smirk like it was meant only for you to see. You gave him a small nod in acknowledgment as you smoothed out your skirt underneath you and sat down on the chair.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the meeting resumed. You reached into your book bag and took out your notepad before absentmindedly scribbling down whatever came up that you thought would be important enough for later.

You had no idea how long you’d been writing for when you suddenly became aware of the large hand that was on your knee. You looked to your right, expecting Remus to be glancing at you, but he looked just as bored as half of the people in the room did, looking straight ahead. You had to look down again to make sure it was really the same hand that was connected to his body.

You squeezed your legs together in an attempt to sooth that dull ache that got stronger each time Remus decided to move his hand just a tad higher until you sucked in a breath as you saw it disappear under your skirt. Remus on the other hand looked unfazed as he used his impressive strength to push your legs apart with one hand. It’s not like you were resisting as he rubbed circles along the exposed skin.

You bit your lip as you felt the tip of his calloused finger trace along the lace edge of your panties. You started to squirm in the damp spot that was forming dangerously close to where his fingers were.

It was as if in that moment, every other person in the room beside you and Remus were pushed to the back of your mind. You were still aware of their presence, it’s just that you didn’t care. You still had enough self awareness to try and keep the expression on your face neutral no matter how badly you wanted to scream as you felt the blunt end of Remus’ fingernail teasing the swollen nub above the dampness of the cotton. That overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation he was imposing on you felt so wrong in a place like this and so good. Your mind was in that zone between wanting him to stop and wanting him to keep going. You wondered how the small movements of his fingers could be so precise and so impactful at the same time.

You could feel the pleasure escalating directly onto your clit as you held your breath, desperately hoping no one else at this dreadful meeting was paying attention to you except for Remus. More than anything, you changed your mind and decided you wanted him to continue pleasuring you like this to distract you. You’d have to be quiet, you told yourself.

Being quiet just got harder because you felt his fingers move inside of your panties, coating themselves along your throbbing pussy.

There was no going back for you. You kept your head down, too aware of how red your face had become, as you gripped the armrests of your chair.

Meanwhile Remus continued to rub tight circles on your clit, this time, it was like you felt the grooves of his fingerprint on the oversensitive bundle of nerves, and the experience of having someone else do it to you felt different and so much more exciting than doing it to yourself.

You could tell Remus was experienced as he knew the exact spots to touch you to make you feel like you were on the edge, but not quite over it.

You didn’t have to look at him to know that son of a bitch knew you were hating and loving this moment and what he was doing to you.

“Is she okay?” You heard some of the older teachers ask. You didn’t think they were talking about you, so you chose not to reply.

That was when Remus pulled his fingers out, and with that same hand, he set it on your shoulder. “You alright?” He asked gently. That was when you were brought out of your trance, not realizing how loudly you were panting.

You were mortified when you turned to look at him and could see your juices on his fingers, still wet and glistening under the lighting. You wished your chair would just swallow you up.

You heard Dumbledore chuckle from the front of the room. You thought he was mocking you for not paying attention, but you didn’t care. You wanted to leave, and it looked as if he answered your prayers. “Perhaps the meeting is getting a little too boring for some of us. Not to worry, there is a lunch break coming up.” He said.

Lunch? That’s right. Your stomach started to grumble when you realized you hadn’t eaten anything since waking up, nor did you bring anything to eat. That left you with drinking from the water fountain outside as your only option.

You heard footsteps behind you as you took a sip from the fountain.

“Have you got any idea how much of a compromising position you’re in?” You heard Remus’ voice and you could swear he was staring at your ass.

“Now I do.” You stood up straight as you met his eyes. “Especially after the little stunt you pulled.”

“What stunt?” He smirked. He knew what you were referring to. “Oh. Yes, the one where I embarrassed you, reminding you of the slut you are?”

You gasped. You never in a million years thought you’d hear someone who used to be in a position of power over you straight up call you a slut (except for in your fantasies) and it turned you on when he did.

“Is that what you wanted? Did you want me to finish the job too?” He said in that low, husky voice as he stepped closer to you. You weakly nodded as you looked up, only to quickly look back down at the intensity of his stare. “Use your words.” You felt the backs of his fingers brush against your heated cheek as he used them to bring your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“I… I want this… I want you.” You whispered, looking deep into his eyes hoping he’d get the point.

“Are you sure?” Now it was his turn to look shy. He was scratching his light brown stubble and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. We could go back to how things were before and pretend nothing between us happened.” He was lying of course. He would never be able to pretend nothing happened between you two.

“Remus, please kiss me.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. You were hopelessly turned on, and there was no going back for either of you.

He turned his head away from you, making you worried that he was rejecting you only for him to say, “We need to make sure the door to my classroom is locked first.”

As soon as the door to the classroom was locked, Remus had you pinned against it with his hands on your hips.

“My God, you’re so beautiful.” He let out an exhale as his thumb traced your bottom lip, making you shiver both at the words and physical contact.

You’d never felt more alive than when he finally crashed his lips onto yours.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Remus asked, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.

You nodded. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.” You’ve been a prankster and a nuisance, but you’d never lie about something as serious as this.

Everything around you started to become a blur as Remus continued to kiss you while walking you to where his desk was until your ass was planted against it.

“Look at you.” His eyes glided up and down your body like a wolf checking out his next meal. “Is my needy slut not satisfied? Does she want more?” Fuck, he really hit the nail on the head with that one.

Remus took a seat on his chair before he patted his thigh. You took a gulp before turning around, but not before he put his hand on your lower back, stopping you. “Not so fast.”

You looked to him behind you, and raised your eyebrows in confusion.

“You don’t deserve to sit on a throne like a Princess. Bad girls like you need the right discipline.” You didn’t need for him to explain to you that you understood how this was going to work.

You were in a position of obedience. You took a deep breath as you placed yourself on his lap, chest and torso pressed against his lower body.

“That’s better.” Remus chuckled from above you as he ran his finger along the skin of your inner thigh. It then felt like only a moment before his entire hand wrapped around it with his thumb lightly tracing along your clothed pussy. You let out a soft moan as you raised your ass up in an attempt to grind against his fingers before he pulled them away.

“You’ve completely soaked through your panties. Such a needy, little slut.” He said in response to how your body reacted to his touch. “Here’s what I’ll do.” He started to say as he gathered your hands behind your back. You heard the sound of fabric shuffling and you felt something smooth around your wrists, which you guessed was a necktie. “How about I teach this slut a lesson, and if she’s a good girl, I’ll give her a special reward?”

“What reward? What do you mean?” Your demanding questions came out in a way that made you sound whiny as you squirmed on his lap.

Remus knew if he continued letting you move around on his lap, his erection would only get more unbearable to the point of not being able to contain himself, and that’s not what he wanted. He needed you to understand that he was the one in control, and you were only under his mercy.

He couldn’t help admiring the plumpness of your ass that was covered by the thin material of your panties as he lifted your skirt. He could even see the damp spot on the gusset that he had been looking forward to committing to his memory.

“Ow!” You shut your eyes as you felt a sharp slap on your skin.

“That’s what you get.” He whispered in your ear. Something about his voice sounded different. Maybe feral. It only reminded you of how much you wanted to see this side of him more often, growling in your ear, making you feel like a small prey he deserved to feast on.

“Think you can be quiet?” He asked as he slid his thumb inside your panties where it found your swollen lips.

“Yes.” You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back another scream this time as he delivered a second spank to your bottom.

“I don’t think so.” He scoffed harshly as he yanked your panties down your legs and bunched up the piece of fabric soaked with your juices into a ball before quickly forcing it into your mouth. “There. I won’t have such a hard time getting you to shut up.”

This was it. You were silenced. You were nothing but a toy to him, stuffed with no way to talk back. You couldn’t be happier with how it was, you were under his control as he used your body in ways you craved to be used.

“Don’t worry, Beautiful. I’ll take good care of you.” He soothingly stroked his long fingers over your scalp, undoing your braid and making your hair fall around your face.

With his other hand, he pushed your legs apart, exposing your warm, wet cunt to the dry air. Your body stiffened at the sharp contrast. God, you so desperately wanted him to insert something into your aching hole already! You didn’t care if it was his fingers or his cock, you needed to be filled up good and full until-

Your thoughts were interrupted as another spank, this time harsher than the others, was inflicted on the raw skin you were sure already had red welts forming there. You would’ve been pleased if that were the case. You wanted to be marked as his.

Another spank landed on the other side of your ass.

In contrast to the pain on your ass, the pleasurable sensation of his fingers dragging along your folds was enough to make you moan so loudly even the make-shift gag couldn’t muffle it completely. You bucked your hips up in an attempt to get his fingers into you deeper, but he pulled them away too fast for you. You felt tears stream down your face accompanied by pathetic sobs.

“This is what you get for being a bad girl.” With each word that he growled, each slap on your ass, the ache only grew deeper inside your cunt, reminding you how much you needed him.

Just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the spanking was replaced by his large hand softly rubbing circles on the raw skin. By the time he was done, your legs were shaking as much as your breaths. This was only the beginning.

You stood on shaky legs that would’ve fallen had it not been for the assistance of the desk behind your or Remus holding your hips in place.

“I just wanted to see how beautiful you look, crying, before I bend you over my desk.” He gently brushed the tears under your eyes with his thumb. If it weren’t for the situation you were in, one could mistake the look on Remus’ face as sympathetic.

As quick as he was to show his gentle side, he roughly turned you around and pushed your back forward. With your hands still tied behind your back, you weren’t able to catch yourself as the force of your chest slamming on top of the desk knocked the breath out of you.

“Aww, does my crybaby slut want it now?” He cooed into your ear as he brushed some hair back. “Has she got no more tears left in her eyes? Why don’t I check on that cunt? I’m sure it’s weeping more than your eyes have in your life.”

Why was he being such a tease? If he wanted to tease you, you would’ve rather have him tease you with his fingers not his taunting words.

Another sob ripped through your shaking body as his finger curled inside of you.

“Fucking hell, I can’t do this anymore.” You heard him whisper to himself behind you. You wanted to smirk as you heard the sound of the belt and zipper being undone.

It was as if your pussy could finally breathe in relief as the smooth tip of his cock found your entrance and soon after, the entire length was able to slide in, making not only your pussy feel full, but also your belly.

“Fuck! You’re so wet.” Remus grunted as he held onto your shoulder, pressing it against the hardwood. You didn’t mind the pain on your shoulder that was accompanied by each thrust. Pleasure was the only thing that mattered to you.

You’d gotten to the point where you realized you could no longer rely on your fingers or your toys to make you feel full and pleasured the same way Remus was making you feel. You were his dependent whore, that’s how you’d come to see it. And you loved it. You loved every thrust and every time his cock would hit the right places, the tightness inside you became stronger until you felt it explode (or it was combined with Remus spilling himself inside you,) making you sob loudly. You needed a moment to collect yourself.

“Did you also cum?” He asked as soon as he caught his breath. You nodded. “You’re so irresistible you don’t know how hard it is to keep myself from spilling inside you so fast.”

You felt him tug on the tie around your wrists, pulling your body against his chest.

“You were such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Yes, this moment was the proudest you’d ever seen him being of you.

You didn’t realize how stiff your jaw had become until he took out your bunched up panties from your mouth, and put them in his back pocket.

“I haven’t got a spare… it’s so sticky down there.” Your weak protest was shut with a smirk on his lips.

“Too bad. Deal with it. Let it be a reminder of the dirty whore you are.” He said, encircling his arms around your body to untie your wrists. You brought them to your sides, bending them back and forth, relieved to be freed.

Once the two of you had fixed yourselves back to decency, you heard your stomach rumbling, reminding you of the lack of food you’d eaten.

“Would you… like to come over to my place after we’re done with the meeting? You must be starving. I can cook for you or get some takeout, whatever you want. You don’t have to. I just mean, if it’s something you’d want to do with me.”

Now it was your turn to make him shut up as you pressed your lips onto his cheek. “I’d love to.”

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ughgoaway · 21 days

Text

paper planes

long flights are only this fun when you're trapped in first class with a cute stranger.

(snippet below the cut)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“How can you drink that stuff? Just shows money can’t buy taste” you tease, somehow already settling into his presence despite having said maybe 30 words between you. Luckily, he takes your teasing in stride, smirking at you over the lip of his glass.

“M’sure you just haven't had the nice stuff. Wanna try a sip of mine? promise it'll go down nice and smooth, sweetheart.” That nickname falling from anyone else’s lips would make a shiver of disgust flitter down your spine, but for some reason, electricity pools at the base instead. As if on autopilot, you lean forward, covering his hand with yours and using it to bring the cup to your lips.

You soon drop your grip, letting him puppet the glass, watching as he starts tilting it up gradually and holding eye contact with you, silently asking if this is okay. You give him an almost imperceivable nod, and soon you feel smooth liquor falling down your throat.

He only pours a few mills, but it's enough to overwhelm your senses. You can't tell if it's from the drink or him. The intoxicating aftershave he is wearing quickly overtakes the oak tinged scotch rocking your taste buds.

The cup clinks against the rings on his hand when he pulls it back, watching a droplet fall from the rim onto your stained lip. Before your tongue can catch it, his thumb is brushing over your skin, catching it on the rough pad of his digit.

Eager eyes follow his hand, darting up to his half-lidded gaze before flitting back. You watch in awe as he pushes his thumb between his lips, sucking the drop of scotch into his mouth with a filthy smirk.

“S’expensive stuff love. can't let it go to waste, can I?”

#oooh fic teaser #idk when this will be done #but YAY FIC #anyway hope you enjoy hehehe #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfic

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onmyyan · 3 months

Note

I was just thinking how funny it’d be in a AU if y/n grew up with the Delmonts, but left shortly after finishing high school to go see her grandma in the country where she ends up meeting Ashley. The drama…😆

City Girl

A/n: lmk if y'all want more

You were only gone for three weeks, that's all they had to endure until you were back home where you belonged, three painfully long weeks without their darling seemed like hell enough but then you came back.

Three weeks ago

The first thing to hit you was that famous Texas heat, that paired with the bright sun had you blinking tears from your eyes for a moment, stepping outside of the airport you inhaled the fresh heated air and sighed, this certainly wasn't San Francisco, in fact it was so unlike back home all the sights and sounds gave you whiplash, what pulled you from your stupor was the sight of your name, crudely painted in bright blue ink on a piece of paper, the man holding the paper to his chest was unfamiliar,but his smile was warm and kind enough to make you ignore the stranger danger rule and investigate.

Walking closer you cock your eyebrow and before you can say a word the man is taking off his hat, pressing the brown leather to his chest as he greets you. "Miss (Y/n)? My name is Ashley Hunt, I'm your grandma's neighbor n' she asked if I'd pick you up so here I am." He grins in such a friendly manner you can't help but return it, it was so like your grandma to do this and not tell you so.

The car ride to your grandmother's property wasn't a quiet one, Ashley was a yapper, but it was charming, he asked plenty of questions without being invasive and made sure you were as comfortable as could be in the Texas heat.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Gran asked me to come help out with this big fair you guys have?"

"The summer solstice? That'll be a hoot! Oh it's so nice, everybody comes together to make it happen."

He lit up at the mention of your intentions here, smiling at you so wide you felt compelled to return it

"It's good to know you miss (Y/n)."

He was a breath of fresh air compared to the nonchalant attitudes of the people back home

He'd opened the door for you to get out and walked you up your grandma's driveway, sneakily taking a peek you had to admire just how fine the man next to you was, and considering you spent most of your days surrounded by the Delmonts, this was saying something.

The small older sun kissed woman held a hand to her eyes to block the sun, a bright grin on her face, she leans on her porch beckoning you both inside with a shout, "Y'all better get inside before my grandbaby here has a stroke." She laughed at your sorry sweaty state and reached into her pocket for a handful of bills, gesturing to Ashley she couldn't get a word out before the man was refusing it.

"Now miss Mable I can't accept that."

"Why the hell not boy?"

"The company of miss (Y/n) was payment enough."

And this is how he leaves you, the tall handsome cowboy looked straight out of an old movie as the sun beat behind him, a certain swagger to his walk.

"Pick yer' jaw up before ya catch flies." Your grandma teases.

Summer comes to a beautiful end and everything changes for you in that short time frame, it was wonderful and chaotic and you had never been more nervous to get in a plane in your life, but it wasn't because of some newfound fear of heights, you were terrified because you weren't going home alone.

And you knew how your boys could get..

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x reader #Ashley hunt #caspian delmont #delmont brothers #gabe delmont #ricky delmont #manny Delmont #Marcos delmont

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rafedarling · 4 days

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: major!drew starkey x nurse!reader

summary: it’s 1944, and the world is engulfed in the turmoil of wwii. on a remote air force base, major drew starkey prepares for a perilous mission, while you, a shy and introverted young nurse, watches from afar, your heart caught between admiration and fear. you has never been one to express your feelings openly, but as drew faces an uncertain future in the skies, you gathers the courage to write your first letter to a man—a heartfelt confession of love. before he departs, you quietly hands him the letter, never knowing how it will change you both.

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains emotional themes set during ww2, themes of war and separation, mild language and teasing from fellow soldiers.

au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy

part ii - part iii - …

You, as a nurse stationed at the airbase, you were accustomed to keeping your head down, doing your work with precision and care, never drawing attention to yourself. You’d been stationed here for months, yet it still felt like you didn’t belong in the whirl of action around you.

But there was one person whose presence never failed to draw your gaze, no matter how much you tried to remain invisible.

Major Drew Starkey.

To everyone else, he was a leader—a seasoned officer whose calm authority and unwavering composure made him stand out among the others. He was the kind of man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet always found a way to offer a smile to those who needed it. His tall frame, sharp features, and focused blue eyes made him a figure of admiration and respect, and you were no exception.

But to you, he was more than just a Major in the Air Force.

He was Major Drew—the man whose voice sent a flutter through your chest whenever he spoke, even if it was just to ask about a patient’s condition. The man whose steady hands and quiet courage filled you with a sense of safety in a world torn apart by war. For months, you had admired him from a distance, your heart skipping a beat every time he passed by. You would catch glimpses of him during routine check-ups or briefings, his brow furrowed in concentration, his posture always strong and sure. You never allowed yourself to imagine more than a fleeting glance or polite exchange; he was an officer, after all, and you were just a nurse.

But as time went by, as each mission became more perilous and the losses more profound, something began to shift within you. The thought of him flying off into the unknown without knowing how much he meant to you gnawed at your heart. Every time he left on a mission, the knot in your stomach tightened, fearing he might not return.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low the base was sinking in soft amber light, you made a decision. It was impulsive and terrifying, but the fear of regret outweighed your shyness. You had to let him know, even if only once, even if he never read the words.

You decided to write him a letter.

Sitting in your small quarters, surrounded by the muffled sounds of soldiers laughing and planes preparing for takeoff, you hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. How do you write to a man like Major Drew? What words could possibly capture the depth of what you felt, the quiet admiration that had grown into something so much more?

But you had to try. You had to be brave, even if just for one fleeting moment.

Dear Major Drew Starkey, I do not know where to begin, nor how to put into words what my heart has long wanted to say. Perhaps it is foolish of me to write to you like this, but the uncertainty of tomorrow compels me to be braver than I’ve ever been before. I know you are a man of duty, a man of courage, and that your mind is always focused on the task at hand. But I wonder if, in the quiet hours when you are alone, your thoughts drift as mine do—to those you hold dear, to the things that make this war worth fighting. I think of you often, more than I should. More than I’ve ever thought of anyone. It’s strange to admit it, even to myself, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around us is consumed by chaos, it is your face I see. Your voice I hear. It is your strength that makes me feel safe, even when everything else is falling apart. I have never written a letter like this before, and I confess I am terrified of how you will receive it. But I cannot go another day without letting you know how deeply I care for you, how much I admire the man you are—not just the officer, but the man who carries so much on his shoulders without complaint. I will not ask anything of you. I do not expect you to respond. All I ask is that you take these words with you, wherever you go, and know that someone here thinks of you every day. That someone prays for your safe return, not because it is your duty to return, but because you are cared for—because I care for you. If fate allows, I hope that one day we may speak of these things in person. But until then, please know that my thoughts are with you always. Yours, in heart and in hope, Y/N”

You read and reread the letter until the words blurred before your eyes, but the feeling behind them remained steady. With trembling hands, you folded the letter neatly and slipped it into a plain envelope. You stared at it for what felt like hours, your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst. Could you really give this to him? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he laughed at you, or worse—what if he never even opened it?

But there was no turning back now. You had written the letter, and you had to deliver it.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. The next morning, just before dawn, the base was a flurry of activity. Major Drew was preparing for another mission—this one longer and more dangerous than the others. The soldiers were gearing up, checking their equipment, and sharing quiet conversations before the inevitable parting. You watched from the infirmary window, your heart heavy with the weight of the letter tucked inside your apron pocket.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move. As you made your way toward the runway, the early morning light casting long shadows over the ground, you spotted him. He stood by his plane, speaking to a group of officers, his back to you.

You almost turned around.

But then, as if sensing your presence, Major Drew glanced over his shoulder and saw you. His expression softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart stutter. Without thinking, you hurried toward him, clutching the letter so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Major Starkey,” you called out, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. His gaze shifted to you fully, and he stepped away from the group, his tall figure moving toward you with a calm, confident stride.

“Y/N,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you out here? Everything alright?”

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fumbled for the words. “I—I just wanted to give you this,” you stammered, thrusting the envelope toward him before you could lose your nerve.

He glanced down at the envelope, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though there was no pressure in his voice, no demand—only a gentle interest.

“It’s just…” Your voice faltered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s something I wanted you to have before you leave.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around you. The sounds of the base faded, the distant voices of soldiers and the rumble of engines becoming nothing more than background noise. It was just the two of you, standing there in the early morning light, the air thick with unspoken words.

Major Drew took the envelope from your trembling hands, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through your body. He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the meaning behind your sudden act of courage.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he promised, his voice low and steady, filled with an understanding that made your heart ache. He smiled at you, that rare, gentle smile that always made the world feel just a little bit brighter. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. And then, before you could embarrass yourself further, you turned and hurried away, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

Hours later, the base had fallen into an uneasy quiet. The planes were gone, the soldiers off on their mission, and you were left in the stillness of the infirmary, going through the motions of your duties while your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

Would he read the letter? Would he think you were foolish for writing it? Would he even come back?

Night fell, and with it came the familiar sounds of planes returning to base. You didn’t rush to the runway this time, too afraid of what you might or might not see. Instead, you stayed in the infirmary, tending to your work, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the soldiers’ quarters, Major Drew sat among his fellow officers, exhausted but relieved to have returned safely. The men around him joked and teased, trying to shake off the tension of the mission with laughter and camaraderie. But Drew’s mind wasn’t with them.

He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the soft edges of the envelope you had given him. His comrades noticed the movement and, ever the opportunists, one of them nudged him with a sly grin.

“Hey, Starkey,” one of the soldiers teased. “What’s that you’ve got there? A love letter from a secret admirer?”

The others joined in, their voices filled with playful banter.

“Don’t keep it to yourself, Major! Let’s hear what your girl’s got to say!”

Drew rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not for you lot,” he muttered, standing up and stepping away from the group. He could still hear their laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as he found a quiet corner and opened the letter.

As he unfolded the paper, the world seemed to slow, your delicate handwriting coming into view. He read your words carefully, the weight of your confession settling over him like a warm blanket. The teasing from his comrades faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet vulnerability of your letter.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter clutched in his hands, a strange mix of emotions washing over him. He hadn’t expected this—not from you, not from someone so quiet and reserved. But as he read and reread your words, something stirred in him, something deep and unspoken that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

When he finally folded the letter and tucked it safely back into his jacket, his heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted just slightly. The war still raged on, the uncertainty of tomorrow still loomed, but in that moment, your words gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed.

Hope.

He smiled to himself, standing up and returning to his comrades, their teasing starting up again the moment he rejoined them. “So, Starkey,” one of them called out, grinning from ear to ear. “Your mystery girl leave you love-struck?”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice low, as if sharing a secret only he knew. Because that’s what it was—your letter was a secret, a treasure he would carry with him wherever the war took him next.

No matter what Drew knew one thing for certain: he would come back.

For you.

For the promise of something more.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you

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