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postmoe · 3 months ago

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In the Next Moment:

Yandere/Alpha Gojo Satoru x Omega Reader

I can't even tell you how long ago I started this. I had no idea how to end it and I took away and added a bunch of things haha. Here is your alpha Gojo Satoru, here to save the day and take you for himself!

omegas are lesser creatures, familial abuse, self-deprecation, like your father in this is literal scum

What kind of God deals a life like this? Where status is given the moment you’re born. Where you can be cast away at birth and shoved into a home just for having the wrong scent. It used to be that families would wait until puberty before they knew what breed their child would be. Now? Now they have the technology to make accurate guesses. Not one hundred percent, but, accurate enough.

In your case, call it lucky or not, your family didn’t send you away to a home. Omega’s aren’t completely useless, and can fetch quite a high penny on the market. Every day you were reminded of your failures as their daughter, that being bred by them should have produced an alpha.

“This is all your fault,” your mother would say to your father, “Your cousin is an omega, it runs in your bloodline!”

“How was I supposed to know?! No one ever spoke of them I had no idea until we did the test!” He would shout back.

It’s a common argument you heard growing up. One that would seep into the marrow of your bones and claw its way into your dreams. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Even though they argued with each other, at the end of the day it came out to you being wrong. You were a curse.

Eventually, your mother left. Being an alpha with you in the home, it was irredeemable. She had not bonded with an omega like her DNA screamed, your father a Beta and those relationships were never to last if an Omega came into the picture. Just an example of the homewrecker in your genes.

He would drink and smoke on the couch all day and night. “We had such a happy family, such high hopes for you…” Another swig of the bottle in his hand, “It’s your job to take care of us now. Your mother did everything. Go make some money and bring it back home.”

Quivering, afraid to even speak in front of him, you had to ask, “B-But what if people find out I’m a- AH!”

You cower as the bottle smashes against the brick wall next to your head, glass and liquor breaking around while your father stands and screams, “You stupid bitch! Go get blockers, fuck! How hard is it to come up with things on your own? You’re so fucking pathetic, stupid fucking omega,” he continues to grumble as he storms past you, “Clean up this fucking mess.”

Of course, you’ve thought about running away, thought about life outside of your home. The realism of it is not pretty, though. You’ve seen how omegas are treated on the streets if they get caught, they’re not allowed in the city because their scent can be such a disturbance. You have to be really taken care of to live amongst others. If you weren’t so rare then it wouldn’t be an issue, but unfortunately omegas can’t be shared around to every alpha.

Getting blockers is probably the hardest job. Most doctors don’t want to sell them to you unless you have a good reason for being an omega, ie; rich spouse, breeding bitch, selling, etc. Anything on the black market is a gamble between being really good or really shit. Eventually, another omega you came across in passing had recommended a ‘hole in the wall’ doctor. They hide down an alleyway in the slums of the city but are open to helping omegas. When you went there it had ignited your fear and you started releasing poor, omega pheromones. Many, hungry looks your way were cast, though thankfully you made it out in one piece.

Now you were left to try and survive in the wild.

“Yo!” Your head shoots up from the stall oven, seeing a familiar head of white hair and blindfolded head.

Honestly, you were shocked, once people found out the ‘lovely’ attendant at the crepe stall was an omega, they generally never returned. “Ah,” you try not to gape at him, “You’re back. You didn’t come with your, um, students?”

It’s been a little over a year now that you’ve manned the crepe stall in a deserted park. You think that’s why your boss put you here, because not many people came by so business wasn’t that great; it also gave him a good excuse to berate you when you didn’t meet income quota. Earlier this week you were met with a unique set of customers, one of them being this man and then two younger boys and a girl to whom he introduced as his students – very proud of them. In that same interaction, whilst the students were enjoying each other’s crepes and you were making his, he had suddenly leaned in and inhaled a few times, sniffing you and grinning cheekily, “You’re an omega, aren’t ya?” It shocked you because you shouldn’t be smelling like anything right now, the sugary crepes usually enough to hide and scent that seems to waft from you. Now, he had returned alone, acting as if you were buddies, “My dear students are in a fierce battle! I have made some time to see my favourite crepe omega.”

His words were too loud, you had to look around in fear that maybe he was trying to let others know, trying to get you boycott. However, no one was there. Was he trying to bait you? Maybe you should just go along with it, “Did you really like them that much?”

He perked up, arms open in a welcoming stance, “Of course! The food, the chef, both are a delicious snack~.”

Flirting?! Definitely a joke.

Your shocked expression must’ve spoke volumes as he laughed at you, wiping a faux tear from his blindfolded eyes, “Don’t be so unsure of yourself. Surely a treat like you gets hit on all the time.”

“Are you hearing yourself,” you blurt out without thinking. How could he be so casual about this if he weren’t planning something sinister. All the memories of manipulation and abuse from strangers in your life come flooding back, your body subconsciously recoiling in on itself in defence. Your voice is meeker now, “Please, if you’re going to do something just get over with it.”

The man’s footsteps sound calm as he strides towards you, his hand reaching forward. You cringe in on yourself, awaiting a slap or a hit, only for your body to be taken over by surprise when he speaks, his index finger pointing towards the flat stove-surface of the kiosk, “Your crepe is burning.”

“Oh no!” You squeal, quickly going to flip it off the surface and onto a serviette. Tears start to collect in your eyes as you think of all the different ways you’ll be punished, “Shit shit shit. He’s going to know! He always knows and I can’t hide it, I’m screwed-“

Silence engulfs you as you watch, stunned, at the man who picks up the hot and charred crepe, worms out his tongue and opens his mouth, before scoffing it down in a single gulp. He pulls out a few bills and sets them on the kiosk counter, “Whew! In hindsight I should have put cream or something on it. Definitely not as good as the first one I had.” Honestly… What was his deal? He didn’t question your shocked expression, only smiling and reaching out his finger to wipe at a stray tear, using the kiosk to lean over and reach you, “Name’s Satoru. Or, well, Gojo is my last name and tends to be what others go by. For you, cutie, I’d rather be addressed by something more to heart. So, you free after this? I know a great restaurant near here.”

Your mouth opens and closes, gaping like a dehydrated fish. You didn’t need to look down to see his arms begin to sizzle on the pan, the sound and smell enough to alert you both. Ven so, you informed him with ghostly words, “Your arm is cooking.”

“Not gonna move it ‘til you say yes!”

… You couldn’t believe what your day has come to, “Okay.”

The restaurant he had decided to take you to was something way out of your budget, and just as you were about to voice your concerns for it, he quickly put his finger to your lips and spoke, “Shh, I know what you’re going to say and don’t worry. I’ve got us covered.”

Neither of you were particularly dressed for this place, he wearing a black uniform with the neck of it covering his chin, and you in your small, ripped (not by design) shorts and oversized t-shirt. Even with this, the waiter at the front smiled widely at Satoru, “Gojo-sama! What a pleasant surprise. Table for two?”

You were thankful that the waiter didn’t acknowledge you. No greeting yet no glare or scowl either. Satoru flicked his fingers into guns and pointed at him, “You betch’ya! One of those cosy, independent booths, please.”

“Of course, right this way.” The waiter lead you through the open area of the restaurant, many patrons idly enjoying their dinner with their loved ones by quiet candlelight, whilst the ones you walked slightly too close to were able to smell you and tell just what breed you were, some even trying to complain to their designated waiter. You just hung your head in shame until you got to the booth, following Satoru’s lead until you heard a door being slid shut.

Quickly, you turned to face him, seeing that he had shut you both in a secluded area with a table, the walls made of a deep coloured screen that didn’t quite go to the ceiling, yet provided all the privacy one could need in a place like this. “Don’t worry,” he says, walking around to pull out a chair for you, “The owner and I get along real well. I’ve helped them out a few times.”

He slides the seat in as you sit, and you still can’t get over the fact that he hasn’t done anything bad to you yet. This man has singlehandedly given you the most kindness you have received in your entire life. Perhaps he wants to break your heart in the end, at least you might get a free meal out of it. “I see… Are you a chef? Is that why your hair is up like that and you didn’t flinch when you got burnt?” You knew some chefs were godly in the kitchen and a little stove sizzle wouldn’t quit them.

Satoru laughed, bringing his hands up to act as a resting spot for his chin, “Nooo~ Not a chef, and my hair just sits this way with the blindfold.”

Which brings you on to your next question, “Why do you wear a blindfold? How can you navigate like that?”

His cheeky grin only widens, his hands now moving to sit flat on the table so he can lean forward and whisper, “Would you believe I have… Special powers?”

This made you quirk your eyebrow, now you were unintentionally leaning in as well, “Huh? Behind your blindfold?”

Satoru chuckled, leaning back again in his chair as he nonchalantly waves the discussion away in the air, “Ah, I don’t think you can handle this conversation just yet. Oh! I know, how about this,” he holds his hand up, five fingers pointing towards the sky. Using his other hand, brings down his thumb so he was only showing four fingers, “Four more dates and I’ll reveal my eyes to you.”

Another flustered expression overcame you. You hadn’t even finished this date – this is a date?! – and yet he was already planning more. Subconsciously, you tilt your head away from him, shoulders coming inwards as you mutter, “I don’t have anything to offer you, Satoru.”

“I just,” he falters, and for the first time he sounds a little unsure of how to say something. Easily, his motions fluid and controlled, like he knows exactly what he wants to do, he reaches for your upper arms and pulls them forward, sliding down the length of your arms until he can comfortably hold your hands, “I just need you to be there. That’s all I want.”

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. It wouldn’t hurt to see how tonight turned out, and even if you said no, he knows where you work. You suppose you can see where this takes you, until it falls flat like it should for an omega.

That night, you managed to tip toe back into your home, your father snoring on the couch. It was a miracle you weren’t berated, at least you had thought so until the morning.

Cooking breakfast for him, he had decided now was prime time to slam his fist into the archway of the room, making you flinch as he roared, “You stupid bitch, don’t think I didn’t notice you not home last night. Where the fuck were you?”

What to say… Could you lie? You’d have to lie, he would accuse you of trying to do something shady if you said you had a date. No omega would get a date, especially you, and so that would mean you were planning something bad. Or maybe it was your catastrophising thoughts that made you see it this way, a defence mechanism, if you will. “I was working late,” you tell him, quietly, “My boss is trying to extend the crepe business into later hours for couples on dates.”

To this, your father scoffs, planting his body at the table as he awaits his meal, “No couple would want an omega to serve them, you might try to make off with their mate.”

You really did try to hold your tongue, but maybe Satoru’s easy-going behaviour had mellowed you out a bit, “I just thought you might want the extra money.” It wasn’t a smart-ass comment, but no matter what you’d say he would take it as one.

This morning, he seemed to have had a bad hangover, as he could only growl out, “What was that, you runt? Know your place.”

Oh, how you desired to spit in his food. You gazed longingly at the bacon and eggs you were making, such a simple meal. Last night you had come home to see new pizza boxes laid around. Honestly, you felt a sort of betterment from that. You had dined like royalty, and he was stuck here eating shit from a sole. If only for last night, you were better than him.

…

“A curse?” You questioned, your wide eyes looking over your teacup. It was an authentic, British set, Satoru had taken you out to a little garden café on the other side of the city. It was amongst some of the historic temples around, the trees making you seem far away from the city and the food a kind of exquisite you had never been privy of knowing.

He grinned at you, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling from behind his dark glasses, “That’s right! Kind of like a ghost or a monster. They feast on collective, negative energy and such, I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

You tried to keep an open mind, “And you… Hunt them?”

“Yeah! See, now you’re getting it,” he grins, excitedly.

With a smile, you set your cup down and ask, “Are you an author, Satoru?”

He waved his hand dramatically in the air, “Oh, you flatterer, you. I’m not that creative, it’s just my job.”

As much as you wanted to believe him, you couldn’t help the creeping feeling that he was lying to you. Like, this was your third ‘date’ together and he still had yet to bully you or do something horrible. This wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to make you scared and freak out. Maybe he wants to laugh at the weak, little omega and her fear smell. Is that why you were in a crowded café?

“Hey, hey,” he reaches over, holding your hands in his, “I can sense you’re troubled but not for the reason I’d think. You still don’t trust me, do you, (Y/n)?”

Your mouth opens and closes, unsure how to word your thoughts. You were caught in a predicament you didn’t want to be in. Of course you still didn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust him after everything you’ve been through. Would he take such offense to that?

Satoru seems to take your shock as his answer, smiling sincerely at you, “I don’t blame you, it’s okay. That’s why we’re doing these dates! Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from now on.”

Flaming heat erupts on your cheeks, the feeling of his thumbs caressing your skin feeling like an iron, “How can you just say that? You don’t know me and I’m-“ you stop suddenly, looking around you to notice the faces of disgust, you really didn’t need to finish that sentence. Your blockers had grown thin, so now you were cutting them in half to try and spread it out since your doctor was on holiday. Unfortunately, they didn’t prevent the smell of your pheromones enough, it was painfully obvious everywhere you went.

“Ah, my darling omega, you truly are sweet,” he inhales, smiling contentedly, “Once you realise the world is your playground, nothing else matters. I could kill everyone here and take you away, and as long as no one can stop me – and trust me, they can’t -, anything is possible, and your dreams really can come true.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, his words always bordering on genuine and humour. Even with the knowledge of Satoru’s like to play, the undeniable dark truth of a true alpha manages to waft in the air.

Like a switch, he grins widely, all teeth and charisma, “That’s not saying I will, but it’s such a nice feeling, don’t you think?”

It’s quiet as his words sink in. You think about your life so far, how you couldn’t even get away with greeting someone without a knife to your throat and spitting words of how an omega doesn’t get to speak without their alpha allowing them to do so. As much as you’d like to punch them in the gut, you don’t think you’d really want to kill them, everyone growing under their own circumstance. Instead of getting into political debates, you think you don’t want anymore stares and judgement for today, deciding that even if Satoru is okay to talk to, you’re still uncomfortable, “I suppose so, it must be nice having such strength, and being able to see… Curses.”

The rest of the date was enjoyable, and he even answered some of your questions about the creatures he hunts. Apparently, omegas are prime suspects, easy to feast upon and no one questions when they go crazy, the second lot of victims being alphas that had an omega as a child. You’re honestly surprised you and your father haven’t been attacked yet if that’s the case.

Satoru drives you home and it’s relatively quiet in the car, the thrumming of the almost noiseless engine enough to fill the silence. You go back to what Satoru says during your date, and now you’re memorising the smells he emitted during your conversation. Before, it was hard to really tell since you were stressing, and the restaurant was full of blooming alphas and betas. However, now it was lingering through the car. He had spoken so easily about death and killing, like it was second nature to him next to breathing. Some curses were sentient, able to talk and think, and then there was the comment about killing everyone else in the restaurant, who were definitely not curses. He was happy, proud even, to have that kind of strength and show it off to you. Tonka bean and vetiver… Perhaps even an orange blossom. It was nice, even if the reason behind it was a little morbid, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and indulge.

The scent got stronger, and suddenly you were startled by a low chuckle, your eyes flashing open to see you were leaning towards him. Satoru had slowed down in front of your house and turned the car off, his cheeks a flush in the dim light, “Having you relax around me like that feels so nice. I can’t tell you enough how happy you’ve just made me.”

You open your mouth immediately to say sorry, only to close it after a moment’s thought. He doesn’t smell like he’s trying to bully you or mad that you thought you could get so close to him without repercussions. How much longer can you hold out from someone who is being so kind to you?

“You don’t have to reply to that,” he tells you, saving you from thinking of an acceptable response. Satoru gets out first, hurrying to your side while you unbuckle yourself to let you out. You smile at him and let him take your hand, holding you close as he closes the door and pushes you against the car. A small gasp is pushed from you, surprised at his boldness. You’re lucky that this neighbourhood was relatively quiet, no one being awake at this hour to see you with anyone. “I really want to kiss you,” he says, face inching closer to you, “You have no idea how hard it was for me to hold back in the car.”

Your eyes shift in nervousness, hands coming to press to Satoru’s chest, “W-wait, s’too soon-“

“It’s fine,” he cuts, not letting you get another word out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied kiss. Your eyes dilate, his scent and taste making your heart jump with a certain anxiety – excitement – you’re letting your shoulders relax and clenching the front of his shirt as he takes the lead. Maybe… Maybe this isn’t so bad… His leg finds its way between the both of yours and gently grinds down, a small moan slipping from your mouth at the electric feeling. Next, he starts to slowly introduce his tongue to your mouth, the wet muscle a new sensation to you.

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming pain, your gut tightening and your eyes watering as you double over into his chest. Your body is hot, panting, you lean into him and can hardly hear anything. Satoru is speaking, saying something, ‘sorry’ and ‘test’ are two words you think you understand but you can’t focus on sounds. What does help you, though, is the gentle caress his hand brings to your head. He holds you tight, safe, his pheromones echoing security and comfort through your mind. You mumble into his clothes once you feel you’re able to talk again, “Wh-what was that? That hurt so much…”

Satoru hums, both hands coming to your face which he cradles and regards you with loving eyes, “Have you ever been in heat, (Y/n)?”

You sniffle, shaking your head, “No, I’ve taken suppressants since the day they found out what I was. It made puberty really difficult…”

Satoru’s lips curl into a frown, “I imagine it would. It seems your body jumped into overdrive, the stimulation from kissing alone too much for you.”

Your arms curled around yourself for some comfort, “My suppressants, they’re running low so I’ve been halving them to spread them out but they’re just making me feel sick.”

“When did you start halving them?” He asks, eyes now wide with worry.

“Uhm, I think about a few days ago? But I can’t get a hold of my doctor and it’s hard to find anyone that will willingly prescribe suppressants.” Your head falls into his chest, a feeling of defeat washing over you.

Satoru pets your head, quiet in thought before he says, “Why not just stop taking them?”

You have to laugh at that, tilting your head to look up at him, “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” he closes his eyes, burying his nose in your neck and holding you close, “You’ve got me now, I’ll look after you. Fuck, you smell so good.”

“Satoru-“ Your wrists are caught in his as he stares you down.

Or, at least that is what he appears to be doing. You’re stuck in his grasp as you wait for him to make his statement, which he does once your lips smacks shut, “You don’t need to hide who you are anymore. Just think about it, ‘kay?”

To get him off your back you give an exhale of defeat, rolling your eyes to the side and complying, “Fine. I’ll think about it. Cool?”

His charming grin is almost enough to even fool you into thinking it was okay to relinquish your omega self to him, “Cool.”

Things were not cool. Not long after getting inside, your father had waited to pounce once the car Satoru drove was out of sight. Your vision had waned with the punch he threw at you, your body colliding with the hallway wall. “Disgusting!” He had spat, literally, his saliva landing on your cheek and barely missing your eye. His foot was next to make contact, kicking you hard enough in the stomach that you threw up a little of your dinner, “You reek of a fucking omega! I see you whoring yourself out, slut. Tryna hide the money from me, eh?”

Another kick had you crying out, this one on your bicep and knocking you back to the ground. You wailed as he bent down and held your hair in a tight and painful grasp, “I’m not! I swear, I have no money!”

He ignored you, his breath badly stained with alcohol, however, you were certain even without the influence he wouldn’t hold back, “Tryna seduce me? Hm? Your own father? You fucking wretch. If you don’t stop that smell right now I swear to whatever fucking God is out there…”

You were bawling now, you could only assume your hormones were worse, your own senses dull to the smell of you. It hurt internally as well, your omega working overdrive as you try in vain to calm down so you didn’t have to endure the full impact of emitting such helpless hormones. It may not have worked the way you wanted it to, but, your father seemed to calm down with a sneer.

He threw your head to the floor and began walking away, “If you don’t get back on those fucking meds by tomorrow then I will kill you. I promise you that.”

You didn’t dare reply to that, thankful that he decided to walk away while you were still breathing tonight.

How fitting the weather is today, the clouds a dark grey and the skies pouring with rain. You had one umbrella with a hole between two of the spines but it was better than nothing. This morning you left the house with a bag packed and a small suitcase, only the essentials.

You were on a bus ride to the other side of town to see your doctor. If they weren’t going to pick up the phone then you’d have to arrive suddenly. If he didn’t have the suppressors then you weren’t going to go home, in fact, you weren’t entirely sure if you were going to go back anyway. Perhaps a life on the street was better than this. A woman’s shelter wouldn’t take you in for the fact that you were an omega, and an omega shelter had an 80% chance of being a front for something worse than illegal.

The bus stops where you need to be, the passengers loudly exclaiming that they’re happy you’re finally leaving. It doesn’t hurt so much today, you just have one thing on your mind.

‘Why not just kill yourself?’

You stop at the thought, in the middle of opening your umbrella, standing in the rain. It was a thought, right? Ending it was always a nice joke but holy shit that voice sounded like it was right by your ear and… genuine. You weren’t exactly scared, a little shocked, sure but, maybe you should bring that up with your doctor, too.

However, as you got closer and closer to the clinic, you began to think they weren’t open. Though there was the receptionist’s and the doctor’s cars outside, the curtains were drawn, the lights were off and the sign, once you got close enough to read, was saying ‘Closed’.

Your hand reaches to your heart as you feel it thumping hard in anxiety, your pheromones beginning to linger around you as a thick, steady aura. Thank goodness this place was off the city boarder, not many people around to subject you to bullying and hatred. You look back to the cars again, both of them parked neatly in the small lot. Even if it’s closed, you need to push past your nervousness and gently demand your medication. If you didn’t… Well, he knows just as well as you do.

You knock on the glass with a firm hit, calling out for good measure, “Dr. Kodoka, it’s me, (Y/n).”

Silence.

You knock again, if they don’t want to be disturbed then the earlier they open up to you the better. “Dr. Kodoka, please, I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency,” you plead, hoping he could tell by the sound of your voice how desperate you were.

Your gut drops as more silence is your only response. You probably should have tried this first, grabbing the long handle of the door and trying to open it. No surprise, it’s locked. Perhaps there’s a back entrance? Oh, you feel so seedy scrounging around a doctor’s office.

Past the skip bins there’s a narrow entrance just wide enough for one person between the building and a wired fence. You’re not sure why the wired fence is even here, it’s not attached to anything and only separates a portion of the office from an open wheat field. Luck smiles upon you as you try this door, the entrance clicking open and allowing you to step into the darkness.

One deep breath before you call out has you positively gagging at the disgusting scent that assaults you nose and mouth. It’s unavoidable, the little bit of vomit that works its way up your throat is involuntarily spat out onto the linoleum floor. What. The. Fuck.

This has to be the worst experience you’ve ever been through, the tears in your eyes falling freely as you persevere through the smell. You know you need to call the police, you know something like this isn’t normal. However, if you do, and they find out you’re an omega here to purchase suppressants then there’s a good chance you’ll both be dead. It’s happened before, police getting trigger happy or beating up omegas and any allies. Of course, society doesn’t care. More filth off the streets.

There’s a sound towards the entrance, something being knocked over, as well as some sort of ‘sludging’ noise. Could it be one of them trying to get to the door? Someone must be alive! You quietly move towards the entrance, past the main office, the break room, and peak through the broken door of the reception. It’s horrendous.

All the gore has been maintained in this area. Limbs, a spine, half a head that has been poorly cut from the top of their skull through their chin- and that’s only the background. In the middle of it all, this giant, wrinkly, slug-like creature appears to be waking up. It has an amass of arms and hands over it’s back and sides, and one twitching on the tip of its tail. The stalks that would be its eyes slowly raise, turning in all directions as if looking around.

You fall against the door, your entire being freezing up in a shock mode. The thud of your body hitting the floor alerts it to you, and you notice now that instead of eyes, it was wearing the distraught faces of the doctor and receptionist. The receptionist still had one of her eyes hanging from their socket, whilst the doctor was completely eyeless, with only a couple of teeth and the tip of his tongue drooping from the gaping mouth.

It hones in on your position and starts charging at an alarming pace, the only thing you can do is scream your throat raw as your end nears. It’s too horrifying, too real to be a dream you can escape. The creature splits its mouth with human-like teeth in mismatched rows and thrashing hands over its body and you can’t look away from your demise.

You don’t blink, and because you don’t blink it’s hard to believe anything happened.

As fast as light itself, a man appears and slashes the slug in half, horizontally through its open mouth with a light so white there’s a tint of blue to it. The guttural scream it lets out is so closely related to a human’s that you are only filled with more fear. The man, who turns to give you a cocky wink and that you can now see is Satoru Gojo, makes a crude display of holding his index and middle finger in front of his face and slowly licking his digits with the flat of his tongue; before slicing the creature up into smaller pieces until it bursts into sprays of blood and nothingness.

Your hearing was skewed, you barely recognise his footsteps as he walks towards you and bends down to hold his hand out. You tell your mind to grab it, to accept his kindness after saving you but you’re caught in your own sense of dread and confusion as not a speck of blood is seen on Satoru or his white hair, or his devilish smile, or that black coat with the collar sticking around his neck.

Satoru’s smile softens and he’s sure you can’t hear him when speaks to you, “Ah, I see we’ll have to cut our deal short. That’s okay, we’re only one date off anyway.” He reaches for your hands, placing them both in one of his and stroking the backs with his thumb. He then slowly removes his blindfold and tilts your chin with his free hand to force you to meet his silvery gaze, “(Y/n), sweetheart, look at me. Everything is okay now.”

His eyes are so blue… White… Silver… They’re like crystals or diamonds or two pools of galaxies – they’re out of this world. His lashes are gorgeous too, and for some reason you feel a ping of jealousy amongst all this chaos because how can a man be so beautiful just by taking off his blindfold. Like a character taking off their glasses to reveal they were beautiful all along. Wait, what are these thoughts? In this horrible situation you suddenly feel like giggling.

Satoru chuckles, keeping your focus solely on him as he lifts you in his arms to carry you out. People in suits run past you but neither of you pay them no mind as he keeps talking, “What silly thoughts are going through that omega mind of yours?” You laugh incredulously, feeling your body fall heavier in his arms he adjusts you, “There it is, there’s that adrenaline leaving you. I gotcha, sweetheart.”

You’re sat on the back of an ambulance with a blanket around your shoulders and a bottle of water wedged between your legs. A few feet away is Satoru, talking to someone so casually you wouldn’t think he just killed a monster with his own hands; literally. You watch as he dismisses the person and walks back over to you with a smile, his blindfold back on and his hands coming from his pockets to bring you into a side embrace, “How are you feeling? That was quite an experience, huh?”

Trauma makes people react differently to things, so if this was his job then it makes sense he wouldn’t be so distressed. “I smell of decay,” you sigh, though you weren’t covered in filth you definitely had some stains. Even without the mess, the stale air in the clinic was enough to cling to you. You squeeze the blanket tighter around you, “How could something like this happen? They were generous people. Kind; caring.”

Satoru seemed to think for a moment, as if deciding what the best thing to say right now would be. Whether it was helpful or not, he opted for the truth, placing one of his large hands below your neck for comfort, “They were helping omegas, and regardless of their personality, a lot of stigma comes from there. Constant stress to keep a secret, harsh words from the few friends and family that know, it all adds up and creates the perfect scent for a curse to trail.”

“I remember you saying you that they are attracted to negative energy. So, rather than feeding off the energy itself they eat the humans?” You ask, though you already know the answer to that. You just can’t wrap your head around how this is even possible. You recall his eyes, how pretty they are beneath the blindfold, “Is that why your eyes are so striking, because you have the power to fight them?”

A laugh bubbles from his chest, his hand squeezing your back, “Sort of. Not everyone is like me, though. In fact, no one is like me.” He steps back, arms open wide and head tilted towards the sky, “I’m the most powerful sorcerer to exist! Killing that creature used nothing but a flick of my wrist.” When he looks back to you there is a strange, powerful feeling that emanates from him, even some of the detectives around you seem to tense, “Nothing can touch me. In turn, nothing will ever touch you.”

What he says should be something kind, words of protection and safety. However, as his gaze burns through the blindfold and into your own, you feel like your breath has been whisked away and your body is being pulled to the ground, trapping you in place for him. It only lets up when your phone begins to ring, and to get out of this awkward feeling of a situation you answer it, “Hello, this is (Y/n).”

The voice on the other side of the phone makes you almost vomit, your father sounding almost melancholic, “(Y/n)… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have shouted like that. Come home.”

You’re at a loss for words. He wants you home? No, that’s a lie, you can’t understand what is going on with him. Something tickles your ear and you jump to see Satoru leaning close so he can listen to your conversation. He smiles at you and nods, whispering, “Say yes.”

Satoru saved you and promised to protect you. He wouldn’t be telling you to agree if you were going to get hurt, you’d like to believe. So, swallowing your hesitation you reply, “O-Okay, dad. I’ll come home.”

He breathes a huge sigh of relief, “Thank god, thank you, (Y/n). Thank you so much.”

You hang up and look to Satoru with worry, “Do you think he’s going to kill me?”

“Nah, I won’t let him,” Satoru says, confidently. You think you can trust him, especially since you watched him take down a strong monster, your angry alpha of a father would be no match for him. He sees you’re still worried, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand and his smile doing its best to calm you, “Let’s finish up here.”

By the time you two are at your house the sun was low in the sky. Satoru had parked down the street this time, the two of you walking slowly down footpath to avoid suspicion. You were already on edge, however, when Satoru told you he wanted you to go in alone, you froze up completely.

He just stood there, allowing you to process what he said. You started by shaking your head, grabbing onto his hand, “No. No, please, you said-“

“-I said I’d protect you and I will. I’m going to go around the back, you just walk up like everything is hunky-dory, ‘kay?”

With a squeeze of your shoulder, he skips around, his carefree attitude not exactly lifting your anxiety. One thing is for certain, though, and that’s that you’ve seen him kill the other curse before. You know he can do it. You trust him. Alpha status aside, if you have any friend in this world then it’s Satoru Gojo.

You take your time going up to the front door, hand trembling as you reach for the knob. It’s unlocked, the door creaking open ominously. You get a cold rush through your body, the inside at freezing temperatures. It’s unnatural, making you step back in shock and shivering in what you could only describe as unease.

But it’s okay, because Satoru is here. He said he would protect you and the prospect has you feeling your cheeks flush. He’s like… your alpha.

The inside is quiet, save for the humming of electricity coming from the fridge. You walk slowly in and look around, spying your father in lounge room on his recliner, hands intertwined as he leans forward. You don’t shut the door, feeling just a tad easier with the escape route.

It isn’t until you’re standing before him that a whistling of wind causes the door to slam shut on its own, the locks clicking in place unnaturally. Your confused look in that direction has him huffing a laugh. Your father doesn’t give you the courtesy of eye contact, “You know that on the day you were born, your mother and I were at our happiest?”

It’s an odd way to start a conversation, and though you were certain this was a trap of some kind, you don’t know what else to do except respond meekly, “I didn’t know that no.”

A humourless laugh accompanies the way he sits up, shoulders slumped, and eyes dazed behind you, “No, of course you don’t. We only told you once when you were just a newborn. Once you got your status in life, well… It was too shameful to ever bring up again. We were completely embarrassed we every felt that way about an omega.”

He’s not just staring off into nothing, you notice the way his eyes look specifically behind you. Is it Satoru, did he come inside? You turn your head, only to go rigid and fall back in fear. Not another one… Not another curse.

It was too tall for the ceiling, curving over like a hook with its head twisted to be partially upright. Tiny mouths were strewn over its face and down its neck, human teeth in all sorts of odd places like the lips and cheeks of the creature. The main mouth was skewed to the side and grinning openly down at you, and the eyes that are sunken, almost giving a hollow effect, were as dark as a black hole; though you knew instantly that it had its gaze locked on you. Four lanky arms reach from its shoulders, the body a crooked mass of black and its fingers twitching in all the wrong directions with painful cracks of possible bone.

The worst part that solidified its presence was when it spoke, his voice raspy and words barely tangible, “Dau…ght…er… Path..et..ic ome…gck.a. Delectabblle—dinn….eerrr.”

You jumped at the firm hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place as the curse limped forwards. Your father spoke in a neutral tone, “It appeared not long after your mother left. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it, who to contact or what to do. Eventually, I started nurturing it. It grew with every argument we had, relished in my anger and pain. I let it feed off me and now it wants more. Now it wants you. You’ll do this, right? It’s the only good thing you’re for, after all. It’ll save me, your family.”

Tears streamed down your face, head shaking as you shifted back. Even with the bit of adrenaline you were able to muster, you were no match for your father, forced to endure the visual of this creature’s fingers itching to get a hold of your flesh. You could only sob, no words coming out, not even to call for Satoru.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to. Your saviour appears once more, and as though the curse is nothing but a guy on the street, he places his hand on its back and gives a low whistle, “Low blow, dad. And here I was excited to finally meet my father-in-law.”

There’s a pressure now in the air, one that has you curling in on yourself, and causing the curse’s open smile to turn into a low hanging frown. Its head spins on its neck, trying to get a look at the man that has it. Your father is more concerned about the words Satoru spoke, though, the tips of his fingers digging painfully into your skin, “’Father-in-law’? You whore. I knew you were out selling yourself. Looks like even to the end, you’re nothing but an embarrassment. That’s all going to change, though. Now you and your boy toy can die together.”

Satoru laughs, and before you can even blink, he appears behind your father and grabs his wrist, easily shattering the bones and causing him to let go of you. You shift to the side, away from both him and the curse as he screams. Satoru tuts at him, waggling his finger nonchalantly in the air, “Parents should protect their children, not sacrifice them. Honestly…” His voice lowers into something almost sad, though you’re wondering if Gojo Satoru was actually privy to that emotion in the first place or if he was just a really good actor, “People like you disgust me.”

A bright light that radiates such an intense heat envelops the lounge room. Your arm comes up to cover your face, eyes squinting, all you can hear are the pained cries of your father and the garbled curse. It sends fear coursing through your body, even if Satoru is on your side, just what sort of power does he control? The carnage you expect to see once your eyes adjust isn’t anywhere. The light is gone, everyone else in the room is gone, thin burn marks are left where your father and the curse once was.

You jump at the hand on your shoulder, your saviour appearing once again out of nowhere. He smirks, acting a little flustered, “Sorry, are your eyes okay? I just wanted to show off a little bit.”

Again, he’s able to treat this like it’s any other menial task. You ask him, voice quiet, “Where are they?”

He tilts his head at you, a little pouty that your first concern was them and not the praise you should be heaping on your hero. He squeezes your shoulder, comfortingly, “What do you mean? They’re gone, does it really matter where?”

It takes a few goes on shaky legs, but, you’re able to stand and face him, “I’m just a little concerned what even happened. Watching you fight the other one, I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and now this- … Are they…?”

“Dead? Yes.”

You exhale at his blatant response. Is this something you should blame yourself for, the killing of your father and that… thing? Or is that just your life-long need to put any negative responsibility on you for merely being born an omega.

Satoru wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the lounge room to help your overclocked mind, "Here’s what would have happened if I didn’t do that: The curse would eat you, devour your father, and then go on a rampage hunting primarily other poor omegas. It’s happened before, baby. Besides,” he cups your face in his hands, making you look up at him, “He was a horrible man. No loss. Can you really say you loved him?”

The only love you had for your father was before your scent kicked in. After that, he was worse than a stranger to you. You fiddle with your fingers, abashedly looking away, “What happens now?”

“Now,” he excitedly jostles you, the smile on his face huge, “You come with me!”

Your eyebrows furrow, his goofy attitude somehow lessening the severity of the situation for you, “I can’t just do that.”

“Sure you can! Where else are you gonna go?” He questions, awaiting an answer he knows you won’t be able to think of. He takes your hands in his and gets down on one knee, “(Y/n), I know it hasn’t been very long, but when I say I’ve finally found the love of my life-“

Cheeks burning, you push away from him, trying to cover up his teasing laugh with your hands to your ears, “Stop! Stop stop stop stop stop. Fine, I’ll come along with you.” You don’t think you can ever get used to being flirted with, especially in the unique ways that Satoru comes up with.

He gives you a gentle push, “Go grab some valuables, baby. We’ll leave once you’re ready.”

Satoru watches as you move up the stairs, grumbling about the sudden use of ‘baby’ he’s started getting attached to. Hah, how he really does love you. His hand comes to the straining of his cock in his pants, palming the ache that’s been prevalent for a while now. Not long now, he can’t way to absolutely ruin you. An omega that’s never had a proper heat, and he gets to be your first toy, just as much as you are his. His luck truly is divine, if anyone deserves it, it’s definitely him.

#yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #abo #yandere satoru x reader #alpha x omega #yandere gojo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere alpha x omega #alpha satoru gojo #jjk x reader

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roosterforme · 10 months ago

Text

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

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

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

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

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 5 months ago

Text

"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 1 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you meet the incredibly irritating (who said that?) aaron hotchner at a party. you do not hit it off.

wc: 4.6k

cw: enemies to lovers! mentions of food & alcohol, jemily agenda (i'm not sorry), reader is hella stubborn, hotch is kind of a little bitch

a/n: this is part 1 😈 there will be more, trust

big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics

You hate bars. Most of the time, they feel like a meat market, with men ogling you up and down, surveying you like they have x-ray vision and are trying to determine if you’re worth the chase.

Tonight is slightly different in that you are not going to this particular bar to chat up men. Your very good friend, Penelope Garcia, invited you and your other friend, Jacqueline, to a bar for a coworker’s birthday. Not just any coworker. The coworker, the Derek Morgan, that Penelope just rants and raves about. They are soulmates, from what you understand, in a weirdly flirtatious, sibling-type relationship?

Penelope has tried to explain it to you and has always ended up confusing both you and herself. It is what it is, she’s said in the past. He’s my chocolate thunder, and I’m his babygirl.

You think it’s best not to try and unpack that.

Jacqueline is a couple of years younger than you and Penelope. She’s just a couple of years out of college, whereas you’re a couple of years out of college, plus a couple more years. Jacqueline is sweet. She’s painfully shy, though, and you and Penelope are determined to break her out of her shell. There’s another coworker of Penelope’s who, from what you’ve heard, would be a perfect fit for Jacqueline. His name is Spencer, and he’s supposedly this young, cute genius. Like, actually a genius. Certifiably.

The goal tonight is for Penelope to find a moment to introduce Jacqueline and Spencer. You’re tagging along so that those intentions could be a little bit better masqueraded. You and Penelope also know for a fact that sweet, sheltered Jacqueline would not attend a party at a bar full of strangers by herself.

You don’t mind being a chaperone, of sorts. Jacqueline is like a little sister. You just want her to be happy, so you don a cute red dress, pick up Jacqueline in an Uber, and off you go.

The bar isn’t nearly as crowded as you thought it would be. It’s still busy, sure, but there’s enough room to walk around without bumping into someone. That seems to calm Jacqueline’s obvious nerves when you enter the establishment. Your eyes scan the place until you finally spot what appears to be a party room just off the main part of the bar, and you see a flash of familiar blonde hair with pink highlights.

“There’s Penny,” you say to Jacqueline, and nudge her with your elbow to follow you.

You’re the leader as you serpentine through the bar patrons, and Penelope turns around to spot you just as you reach her. “My sweets!” she squeals, wrapping both you and Jacqueline into a tight hug. “Thank you so much for coming!” Penelope gestures to the party room, which is open for integration into the rest of the bar. It all seems very flowy and casual, with guests either standing or sitting with a drink in hand, talking and laughing with one another.

There’s a table in the corner with decadent cupcakes that you’d bet are homemade, all crowded on a tiered stand, and various birthday decorations hanging from the walls. The jukebox in the corner plays 80s and 90s hits. You spot the birthday boy in an instant across the room, and you know it’s him from Penelope’s ridiculously detailed descriptions. He’s like a cheetah, personified, Penelope said before, and yeah, that might be accurate.

Except for the bright blue, glittery party hat strapped crookedly to his head and the sparkly sash around his shoulders that says BIRTHDAY BOY in big, bold letters.

“There’s snacks, and water in the corner if you’re not feeling booze,” Penelope goes into full hostess mode and points to everything. “How about you lovelies get some drinks, and then I’ll introduce you around?” She suggests.

Jacqueline is ever the quiet one in all social situations, and you can tell she is overwhelmed by the noise, or maybe the amount of people that she doesn’t know. You know that she would be a little less nervous with a drink in her system, so you nod to Penelope’s suggestion and agree to meet up with her after visiting the bar.

Jacqueline follows you like a lost puppy as you snake through the crowd again. One of the few perks of being pretty women, though, is that once you reach the bustling bar, your orders are quickly taken.

You get an amaretto sour for yourself, a Malibu pineapple for Jacqueline, and she leans against the bar next to you as you wait for your drinks. “Lots of people here!” Jacqueline exclaims with a sheepish chuckle. She smooths the ends of her cinnamon-colored bob, one of her nervous habits you’ve picked up on over the few years you’ve been friends.

“Yeah, but we love Penny, and she loves all the people in there,” You nod towards the party room. “So it’s like we know they’re cool by association, y’know?”

“I guess,” Jacqueline shrugs, unconvinced. She’s lived a fairly sheltered life, from what you understand. Strict parents, so she never dated in high school, and always focused on her studies in college rather than a social life. It’s good to get her out of her shell.

You’re given your drinks and you head back to the party room, where Penelope is speaking to two men. They’re both tall, but one is younger, with brown hair and a patterned sweater vest. The other is older, with dark, nearly obsidian, hair, and stark, narrowed eyes to match. He’s in dark, belted jeans, with a black polo to match his hair. When you and Jacqueline approach Penelope, you lock eyes with the older man for a fleeting moment.

He looks at you like you’re an outsider. And sure, maybe in this particular situation, you are. But with his tapered eyes, watching your every breath, you get the feeling that he thinks you shouldn’t be here.

Penelope ushers you and Jacqueline into the conversation and introduces you. “This is Y/N, and Jacqueline, my two really good friends,” she says, then gestures to the lanky, younger man first. “This is the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid, and the Unit Chief of the BAU, Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes land on Aaron and he outstretches his hand, obviously out of obligation. “Pleasure to meet you both,” Aaron says coolly, and you shake his hand chastely. Your eyes flicker over to where Jacqueline shakes Dr. Reid’s hand. He’s already insisting she call him Spencer.

Penelope was right, you think. Spencer and Jacqueline have an immediate connection.

“Likewise,” you say to Aaron, merely matching the indifferent energy he’s putting out. Penelope, in true hostess fashion, excuses herself to check on Derek, leaving the four of you in an awkward conversation square, with Aaron and Spencer facing you and Jacqueline directly.

“Penelope says you’re all in a book club together?” Spencer proffers as a conversation starter. He’s looking directly at Jacqueline, like he’s got tunnel vision, like she’s the only other person in the room.

She nods and sips her cocktail through the thin plastic straw. “We’ve been going through the classics, one by one. Started with Pride and Prejudice a couple of years ago, now we’re working on War and Peace,” she explains.

“Oh, fascinating,” Spencer seems incredibly interested by this. “I love Tolstoy. Did you know his wife, Sophia, helped him tremendously during the editing process? Over seven years, she hand wrote the manuscript eight different times, all while carrying and birthing four children.”

Jacqueline loves weird facts like this, so she beams. You smile softly at this and are immediately met with thoughts of how tooth-achingly sweet these two would be if they got together.

You and Aaron play audience as Spencer and Jacqueline’s conversation continues for a few moments more, until finally, Spencer suggests they sit at a booth to continue. Jacqueline shoots you a look, like, sorry for abandoning you with the grumpy guy! And you merely shrug as you are left alone with Aaron.

“Well, aren’t they just adorable?” You flash a bright smile, and when your eyes meet Aaron’s, it falls. He’s so stoic and unemotional. You know he’s just standing with you to be polite, but at the same time, if he’s so uninterested in having a conversation with you, why is he still here?

Aaron gives an impassive hum of civil agreement, and you clear your throat. “So, you’re Penelope’s boss, then?” you ask, rather than simply make an excuse to leave this awkward, cringey hellhole of a conversation. Maybe some petty part of you wants to see who will break first.

“That’s correct,” Aaron’s fingers are wrapped around the glass tumbler of what is presumably whiskey that is in his hand. His forearm flexes a little as he shifts the glass in his palm.

“What’s that like, working for the FBI?” you ask, shifting your weight to one hip as if to tell him that you’re getting comfortable, that he shouldn’t expect to go anywhere.

“About the same as working anyplace else, I’d expect,” Aaron’s giving you absolutely nothing to work with, so you’re incredibly thankful when Penelope approaches the two of you again.

“Oh, look at that!” Penelope squeals, squeezing your arm. She nods over to Spencer and Jacqueline, sitting across from one another at a booth, both leaning forward on the table, endearingly engaged in conversation with each other.

Jacqueline’s babyish face is plastered with an earnest smile, and you love seeing your friend so captivated and clearly in her element with Spencer.

Penelope was right, they’re clearly well-suited.

Unlike you and Aaron.

“And what are you two talking about over here?” Penelope croons, waving a teasing finger between you and Aaron.

“Not anything in particular,” Aaron’s deep voice beats you to it, and you feel your jaw tense slightly. He avoids contact with you, just stares at Spencer and Jacqueline.

“Yeah, Penny, I was hoping you’d introduce me to the rest of your team,” you suggest, smiling saccharinely at Aaron before making pleading eyes to your darling blonde friend.

Penelope’s chocolatey brown eyes dart from you, to Aaron, and back, and you can almost see the gears shift in her head. “Right,” she gets it, and you nearly sigh in relief. “C’mon then, Y/N, let me show you off!”

You nod curtly to Aaron. “Nice meeting you,” you spout off, totally out of obligation.

“Likewise,” says Aaron, mirroring how you’d thrown the terse colloquialism at him before.

Your nostrils flare and Penelope manages to drag you away before you rip him a new one. “What the hell is all the animosity about?” Penelope asks as soon as you’re out of earshot. You see that Derek, the birthday boy, has approached Aaron in your absence.

“Not animosity,” you correct Penelope, taking a chug of your Malibu pineapple. “He doesn’t like me, for some reason. Seemed to have made his mind up on that real fast.”

Penelope scoffs. “Hotch?” You deduce quickly that this is Aaron’s nickname. “He’s such a sweetheart. You must have just caught him in a bad moment, Y/N. I swear, he’s one of the sweetest guys I know!”

You purse your lips and feign an open mind. Penelope introduces you to the rest of her team - David, an older Italian man whose glass of wine cost about three times as much as your cocktail, then JJ and Emily, a blonde and a raven-haired woman who are obviously in love.

Emily’s got her palm splayed across the small of JJ’s back, and the blonde leans into her touch. You wonder briefly how their relationship was approved by Aaron Hotchner, because, as you understand it, he’s their boss and he can be quite the stickler.

“He can be a grump at times, that’s for sure,” Emily says before taking a sip of her wine. “But he’s a really great boss. He’d do anything for any one of us.”

“Including going to bat for us staying on the team together after our relationship became public,” JJ adds, and you furrow your brows, shooting a sideways glance to the man in question. He’s still across the room, speaking with Derek, leaning against an empty spot on the wall and nursing his glass tumbler of whiskey.

That guy? You think. That guy went to bat for the benefit of other people?

“That surprises me,” you admit. “He was so cold when we spoke just a few minutes ago.”

JJ, Emily, and Penelope all seem to share a look. They clearly know something you don’t. “Well,” Penelope starts, her voice inclining. “He’s sort of… going through a hard time right now,” she scrunches up her nose and shrugs her shoulders, as if to indicate that she can’t really say more on the matter.

It’s none of your business, you remind yourself, but you also want to smack Penelope for dangling a carrot like that.

“If he comes off obtrusive, just know you’re not experiencing the real Hotch,” JJ concludes. You spot Emily squeezing her hip as if to say that’s a good way to put it.

Whatever that means, you think, and shrug your shoulders. “No skin off my back,” you attempt to appear nonchalant. Hopefully they won’t be able to tell that the thought of someone not liking you makes you want to rip your hair out.

“Right,” Emily agrees, just as JJ and Penelope share a look.

The two blondes smirk at each other. Simultaneously, they say, “Profilers.” And you wonder what the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Over the next thirty minutes, you’re shown around the room by Penelope, introduced to a few more people. Finally, Penelope notices that the cupcakes are all gone and runs off to the kitchen, where she has more store in case of this very specific emergency.

You find yourself tucked away at a table in the corner of the party room, halfway hidden by the imposing and comically large jukebox. As you scan the room, you notice Jacqueline and Spencer still at the booth, still engaged in what appears to be very riveting conversation. Jacqueline’s got this demure, girlish smile on her face, and lightly flushed cheeks.

“What do you make of that?” A voice asks, and you don’t see anyone around. You lean back in your seat and can see through the sliver of visibility between the jukebox and the wall. That Italian man, David, has just asked Aaron the question, gesturing across the room to where Spencer and Jacqueline sit.

“Hm,” is all Aaron has to say, and you scowl, furrowing your brows as you watch him watch your friend. “She seems nice enough. Kind of a dud, though, isn’t she?”

“A dud?” David repeats, scoffing. “She’s been keeping up with Boy Wonder for nearly an hour now. I’d say she’s either an alien or a miracle.”

Damn straight, you think.

“I suppose,” says Aaron, and you roll your eyes. He must hold an ungodly amount of pride. Probably totes it along with his stupidly expensive whiskey and his judgmental expressions and opinions about people he doesn’t know. Sure, you’re casting judgment on someone you don’t know, too. But this is different… somehow. Jacqueline is obviously very earnest and sweet, and Aaron is acting like he’s suspicious of her.

“Garcia’s other friend seems sweet,” David goes on to say. You’re not ashamed to admit that your ears perk up a little at this. “She’s fun. Asked me about my wine. Made a joke about cutting a rug with me on the dance floor.”

“She’s something,” Aaron exhales as he says this, and you feel your jaw tighten a little.

Something? What the hell does that mean?

“What the hell does that mean?” David shares your train of thought, though his voice is lined with an omniscient, teasing lilt. “She’s cute. You don’t want to ask her for her number?”

“No,” Aaron says quickly, too quickly. “No, I’m not even slightly tempted.”

You feel your ears burn, and you look down at the empty glass in your hand. This has been your only drink tonight, and you’ve been nursing it for the better part of an hour. You let the condensation slicken your palm.

“What’s the matter with you?” David goes on to ask. “She’s very sweet, and she’s got a great sense of humor. And she’s beautiful, I might add. Why aren’t you interested?”

You stand up from your seat, deciding you’ve had enough eavesdropping for one night. You don’t want to hear what faults Aaron Hotchner saw in you after a three-minute conversation. Feeling a bit self-protective, you march past David and Aaron without so much as looking at either of them. You don’t know if they notice you.

You resolve not to care.

Jacqueline joins you at the bar about thirty minutes later, and is smiling like an idiot.“So, Spencer’s really nice,” she says, breaking out her ID so she can buy another drink. She’s so smooth-skinned and utterly gorgeous that she does, in fact, get ID’d every time she orders a drink.

“Yeah?” You smirk at Jacqueline just as the bartender comes back with your second drink and takes your friend’s order. “He seems really into you, too.” Even if his friend is a massive prick.

“I think we’re gonna go out,” Jacqueline beams, biting her lip anxiously. “Like, on a date.”

“That’s great!” You grin, glancing behind Jacqueline to see Spencer speaking with Aaron across the now-dwindling crowd. At this point, there’s just a handful of patrons for the bar, and only Penelope’s team remains in the party room for Derek. “You should! He’s obviously very polite, maintains good conversation. I’m only seeing green flags.” Except that his boss is a judgmental tool.

“I just get so nervous, y’know?” Your friend says as the bartender brings her drink.

“I know you do, sweetie, but he’s just a guy,” you begin. “He’s not some cosmic being who will alter the trajectory of your entire life simply by taking you on a date. He’s-”

“What?” Jacqueline follows your eyes, whipping her head around with no amount of subtlety. Her cinnamon curls flounce as she notices the same thing you are. Aaron’s staring at you, those unrelenting raven eyes. What’s he trying to do, burn a hole through your head?

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you mutter.

“What is it?” Jacqueline’s constantly aware of the people around her. It’s a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, since you’re her Emotional Support Friend.

“I just… don’t worry about it,” you wave it away, not wanting to stress her out.

“No, what is it?” God. He’s still looking at you, maintaining his conversation with Spencer. You let your gaze wander and you see his lips moving. Is he talking about you so blatantly?

You suppose you’re talking about him, but still.

“I just don’t like Aaron, that’s all.”

“Why not?” Jacqueline’s nutmeg brows furrow, and you meet her confused expression with a shrug.

“We just don’t vibe. Don’t worry about it, Jackie, seriously,” you nod. “I’m not gonna, like, challenge him to a duel.”

Before Jacqueline can attempt to defend someone she doesn’t know (God bless her), Penelope’s waving at you from the party room and beckoning the two of you towards her.

You and Jacqueline grab your drinks and oblige. Derek and Emily are shifting tables out of the way, creating a small, makeshift dance floor in the middle of the party room.

JJ is queuing up a few songs on the jukebox, and when “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin comes filtering through the speakers, a slightly tipsy Penelope is singing into her margarita and demanding that Derek slow dance with her.

You end up standing by Spencer and Aaron, to your dismay, and you think for a second that Spencer isn’t going to ask Jacqueline to dance. That wouldn’t be totally out of character, but he does, and Jacqueline’s beaming, leaving you alone with Aaron.

You let out a slightly annoyed huff and stir your cocktail with the little plastic red straw. You meet his unwavering gaze with narrowed eyes. “Do you like to dance?” You ask with half-assed interest.

“Not if I can help it,” Aaron says, and you wonder for a moment if he’s joking. The ever-serious look on his face says otherwise.

“I was looking for a pretty young lady!” A voice cuts in, and you turn to see David Rossi, of all people, standing before you.

You smile softly. You know he isn’t flirting, he isn’t romantically interested in you, that he’s just being a nice older man and going out of his way to make you feel included. And you can’t help but feel warmth from him. “We were just talking about dancing,” you bring him into the conversation, clocking how Aaron’s jaw visibly tenses.

“Ah, dancing. I remember when we had clubs all up and down the streets. You could go in and just dance until your feet hurt,” David prattles, and you purse your lips in the side of your mouth. He only looks like he’s in his early sixties, but you resist the urge to call him old, to tell him he’s acting like a grandpa.

“Do you like to dance?” Aaron’s asking you all of a sudden. You spot Penelope and Derek slow dancing as well as Spencer and Jacqueline. Emily and JJ have even joined in on the fun.

“I do,” you say simply, pursing your lips at him. And maybe it’s a little mean, but you look at David and plaster a devilish little grin on your face and hold out your hand. “Dave? Wanna cut a rug with me?”

Aaron watches as Rossi throws his head back in one of those wheezy, old man laughs.

“It’s been a long time since a pretty young lady asked me to dance,” the Italian man jokes, and Aaron knows that is simply not true. As a best-selling author, Rossi weirdly gets a lot of groupies.

Aaron feels like he has a smokescreen up, and behind it, he’s fuming. He’s not jealous of Rossi, because he knows Dave’s just being friendly. But Aaron doesn’t think it shouldn’t be Dave dancing with you. It should be him.

He doesn’t know why he told you he doesn’t dance. Maybe it’s this whole divorce with Haley. It was finalized nearly six months ago, but Aaron’s still reeling from it, he supposes. He’s not been on a date. He’s not even so much as looked at another woman in a romantic capacity, until you walked in tonight. Your hair looks so shiny, your face made up all glowy, like you literally have a halo hovering over you.

It’s incredibly frustrating.

He didn’t know what to do. He panicked. He doesn’t want to see anyone right now, or at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself for the past six months. He wants to focus on his job and on being a good dad to Jack.

But, god, the way your dress hits you right above the knee. He wants desperately to see your thighs. He’s been thinking about them all night, actually, how supple the skin might be, how sensitive. That’s why he’s been so cold to you all night - he’s trying to push you out of his mind, trying to focus on anything else. But you’ve got an attitude and a good sense of humor, and he couldn’t help but stare.

It’s the same way he can’t help but stare now, when Rossi places one hand on your waist and clasps your other one. You’ve got one palm on Rossi’s shoulder, the other holding your drink as you occasionally sip it.

You’re laughing and Rossi’s got crows’ feet from smiling, and he sways with you to the music. That song from Top Gun. Aaron wonders briefly if you’re old enough to have even seen Top Gun in the theater.

You’re young. You’re not too young, per se, but you’re right on the line, Aaron thinks. He’s gripping his tumbler of whiskey - his third since you entered the party because god, does he need a vice right now - and his jaw is clenched as he watches Rossi twirl you out.

Your laugh is heavenly and melodic and Aaron, for a split second, considers leaving just because of it.

Aaron leans against the wall by the jukebox, the odd man out, with your friend Jacqueline dancing with Spencer, Garcia with Morgan, and, of course, JJ with Emily. He doesn’t mind being the odd man out, watching his team have a good time. It’s you he feels excluded from.

Okay, maybe you’re not totally sober, you realize, as David twirls you out a second time. You hold on tight to your drink, but your steps aren’t completely precise, and your back slams into a muscled chest with a clumsy grunt. Amaretto sour splashes over the side of your glass and onto a pair of brown, Italian loafers.

Gargantuan hands graze down your elbows, then clench your forearms as you regain your balance, and you turn around to see the brick wall of a person you’ve run into. Aaron’s stupidly dark, hazelnut eyes are drawing down your body. They bore into you and you feel your entire face flush, all the way down to your collarbone.

“You spilled your drink,” Aaron exhales sharply through his nose, and you feel your expression harden.

“It was an accident,” you bite back, taking a step away from him, enforcing the space you desperately need to keep from clawing his eyes out. You don’t hate people. But, god, is this man getting under your skin.

Aaron opens his mouth, and you think for a split-second that he’s about to reassure you. But he just clamps his mouth shut, into a straight line like a ruler. “Right,” is all he says. You take a deep, serrated breath and turn pointedly on your heel.

As you return to David to dance, Derek cuts in, and you and Penelope swap partners. Derek is respectful as he places a hand round the small of your back, and you smile softly when you see Jacqueline and Spencer. They’re barely moving, and Jacqueline’s gray-green eyes are looking up into Spencer’s brown ones, and you nod in their direction. “God, they’re cute, aren’t they?”

“It’s a miracle Pretty Boy’s lasted this long,” Derek chuckles. You arch a brow at this, so he continues. “He doesn’t do too well with the ladies. Not like yours truly,” he jokes, flashing his teeth.

“Oh, please,” you tease playfully. You tug at his sparkly blue birthday sash to further your point. Derek laughs and spins you around.

“So what’s going on with you and Hotch?” Derek asks. You roll your eyes.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I barely know him. I barely know any of you, besides Penelope. God, you guys are really mixed up in each other’s lives, huh? I’m definitely not that close with my coworkers.”

“Oh, we’re not just close,” Derek laughs. “We’re family.”

“And Aaron is, what, the overbearing father?” You ask. You’ve had a couple drinks, and your filter is more or less nonexistent.

“See, I knew there was something going on between you two,” Derek teases. You glare at him. He holds one hand up defensively. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop, but you’re in for trouble, sweetheart.”

“How so?”

Derek nods over to Jacqueline and Spencer. Both their feet are still planted in the same spot, but they’re swaying together. It’s dorky as hell, but so cute you could cry. You understand what Derek means before he even says it. “You’re about to become friends-in-law. The more Jacqueline sees Spencer, the more you see Hotch.”

Your eyes flicker over to the man in question, now sitting at a table and talking with David. There’s some kind of magnetic tug, and Aaron’s eyes meet yours, and your knees buckle a little beneath you. Either you’re drunker than you thought, or you really are in trouble.

edit: read part 2 here

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner enemies to lovers #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #hotchner x reader #hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you

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eli0004 · 6 months ago

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Long Distance with the AoT Men

Contains: Eren, Jean, Armin, Connie, Levi

Synopsis: what is it like to be in a long distance relationship with the AoT boys? Let’s find out 👇

Warnings: none really, pure fluff, gn!reader

Eren Yeager wants to sleep on FaceTime. Every. Single. Night. If you try to hang up he will sulk so bad, it’s ridiculous. He looks so insanely gorgeous when he’s sleeping though, so you wouldn’t dare complain. Eren has a whole goodnight routine too. You say you love him, he says he loves you more, and bitch you better say you love him most, or else. Eren is not the Eren he is in public when he’s sleepy and missing you from miles away. There’s a certain longing in his voice when he talks about your future together, when you talk about your plans to move in together and get to lay in each other’s arms. Sometimes he thinks about just quitting school, packing his shit and booking a one way flight to your city, but he knows how important it is to you that you’re both secure and ready for a move like that. Until then, he’ll save every penny and he’ll look forward to every opportunity to visit you.

Jean Kirstein watches movies with you. Jean is the type of guy that: A. Can’t sit still and do nothing, and B. Has probably seen every movie that exists in the world. He loves FaceTime dates where the two of you stream a movie together. Absolutely will go old school with it and start a movie at the exact same time, making sure to count down from three if there’s an interruption so you can pause at the same time too. Believes it’s mandatory to have pizza for a movie date. Always Orders himself pizza, and will door dash one to your place too😭 Mans looks so soft and comfy in bed, all clad in a warm hoodie, hood up, chewing on the strings. You can see the light from the screen flashing, illuminating his sleepy face. It’s those moments when the distance aches a little more, missing the feeling of being there snuggled up against his warm chest.

Armin Arlert just wants to lay there and look at you. If you’re gonna be in a long distance relationship with Armin, you must understand that he is a highly emotional, sappy, clingy guy. When his days are busy and his schedule is packed and he finds himself talking to you less, when you finally do have an hour or so to really sit and talk about things, those are the days when Armin struggles extra hard with long distance, and needs a lot of reassurance that you’re still happy with him, even though he can’t be there with you, especially when he knows there are plenty of other people who could be. More than likely, he spends a lot of your calls shedding intermittent tears, expressing his desire to snuggle up with you every time the thought crosses his mind. When he starts to get sleepy, his eyes droop and he lays his head on his pillow. He’s looking over every feature on your face, making sure to etch every minute detail into his memory for when he’s missing you the next day. He’ll fall asleep, doing just that.

Connie Springer just carries you around everywhere on FaceTime. He’ll go into the grocery store with you in his pocket, talking to you through his AirPods about what flavor of instant ramen he should buy. He sets you up on the counter while he cooks said ramen, so you can watch his chaotic ass burn a cup of noodles. Like eren, Connie probably wants to sleep on FaceTime, but he never remembers to put his phone on the charger so it dies at like 2 in the morning, and he’ll CALL YOU BACK just to be like “sorry babe, goodnight, i love you *snores*”. When Connie is in public, if you crack a joke while you’re in his pocket and he’s wearing his AirPods, he’ll laugh out loud, and you get the pleasure of overhearing people ask him what the fuck is so funny like they’re concerned for his mental health 😭 and he’ll play into that shit too, just to keep hearing your laugh.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t know how to just say he’s missing you, so he’ll call you periodically to ask what you’re doing and then just listen to you breathe for about 20 seconds on the other line after you answer. He visits you every weekend, even if you’re hours away, he will take public transportation for you if he has to, and that’s saying something because he knows how filthy those buses/trains are. Once every few months he’ll take a whole week off to come stay with you, and he’ll probably try to straighten up around your place, pick up your groceries, cook dinner for you, water your plants, in your own home 😭. Literally morphes into your lil househusband for the week, and you have to be like No? Go sit down you’re literally my guest. Distance doesn’t mean shit to Levi. Where there’s a will there’s a way, he believes. The definition of “if he wants to he will” because he will. Every time.

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math-rocks-and-lizard-bats · 10 months ago

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Becca Scott! She’s coming for penny’s brand!

There's only room for ONE type A rogue halfling teenaged girl in spyre and that's penny luckstone. little miss four dogs needs to get OUT of here

#dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #kipperlilly copperkettle #penny luckstone #I’m waiting for Becca to bust in #Becca we need your thoughts #she’s a bitch #I miss the seven

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wooyoungmybelovedhusband · 8 months ago

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BESTIE!!!!!! You need hard hours? I gotchu!! Double penny with Woosan where they just like spit roast you babes if you think your walking tomorrow then I’m sorry to break it to you but… they give u so many highs you think you might pass out. But then the aftercare be so gentle and soft and there so sweet when they speak to you uwu 💖💖💖😩😩😩

OMFG RUBY!!!! you got me going 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 with this

Warnings: meandom! Woosan (soft doms at the end hehe), degradation, manhandling, blow job, unprotected sex, squirting, aftercare.

MeanDom! Woosan who are your boyfriends, are rough, harsh and get you passed out in the end from the intensity. But when they're frustrated though, it's a whole different world.

You would know you were screwed the moment they walk through the door and they almost pounce on you. Wooyoung pushes you into your bedroom, his hands wandering and groping your flesh harshly all while San follows behind with his hand unbuckling his black leather belt.

“You're gonna get ruined tonight babygirl” You hear San say behind your ear, before Wooyoung is pushing you down on the bed as he hovers over your body.

Neither of them give you mere seconds to think before, you're told to strip to nothing – which you do so without another thought. All while the two pairs of eyes stalk over your body.

San's hands sneak in between your hair strands in moments before he's stuffing his length inside your mouth. You almost forget to breath from how fastly his hips snap into your mouth, his head thrown back as he face fucks you.

You barely remind yourself to breathe from your nose, when your thighs are spread apart from behind and you moan around San when you feel a harsh slap on your ass. “Such a welcoming hole for us, aren't you nothing but a slut for us? A cockdumb bitch?” Tears form in your eyes from the degrading words – you felt humiliated and you loved it.

You gag around San as the result of Wooyoung slipping into you in a swift moment. His hands hold your legs open as far as humanly possible before his hips rut into you.

A low smirk tugs on both of their lips as their hawk eyes watch the way you fall apart on their cocks at the same time.

If you think it's over once they come, you're totally wrong. They would make you cum over and over, manhandling you into positions all for the convenience of them. They would know you reached your limit when your legs shake convulsively even under San's grip as you squirt all over his face. Your back would be against Wooyoung's chest who kept his hands busy with your godly breasts.

You mildly pass out for a few seconds with your brain completely hazy and flying in the clouds. You would barely be able to think about anything while the both of them run you a bubble bath. San would massage your sore body after Wooyoung washes you clean in the shower.

Once completely conscious, you realise you were dressed in oversized comfortable clothes, laying down in between them. Your brain almost glitches from the change of their tone and their touches, which was as soft as cotton.

But you would rather do anything than change a thing about your dynamics.

You smile contently as they snuggle up to you, before drowsing off to sleep in the warmth of their hands.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #ateez smut imagines #ateez x reader #wooyoung #ateez hard thoughts #ateez x reader smut #wooyoung smut #san #san smut #san hard hours #san x reader #woosan #woosan smut #woosan x reader

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corruptedcaps · 4 months ago

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A Helping Hand

Maddy had always been invisible. With her thick-rimmed glasses, a penchant for sci-fi novels, and a wardrobe full of oversized sweaters, she herMiddleton High School like a shadow. She sat at the back of the classroom, her nose buried in a book, unnoticed by her peers. Although she dreamed of having more. She dreamed of Chad.

Chad was the school's star quarterback and the reigning king of the hallways. His presence was impossible to ignore. He walked with a swagger that commanded attention, his broad shoulders cutting through the sea of students with ease. But as easy on the eye he was, it wasn’t the main thing that attracted her to Chad.

Much to her own surprise she found herself unbelievably turned on by what a bully he was. She would watch as he pummelled some dorky freshmen with rapt attention and a wetness in her panties. She didn’t know why but seeing him so cruel was the hottest thing to her.

At night in the privacy of her bedroom she would touch herself as she thought about him. In her fantasizes he wasn’t alone though, she was with him, egging him on and joining in. When they had their fill he would fuck her and she would cackle with evil glee and scream out his name.

She knew it was wrong and immoral, the wicked thoughts she had, but she couldn’t deny her desires. Besides it was nothing more than a fantasy, he would never go for such a plain looking girl like her. Even if he would, she couldn’t compete with Millie.

Millie was the head cheerleader the most popular and beautiful girl in school. Despite this though she was the kindest, most generous person around. She had no idea of Chad's true nature, no clue about the darkness lurking behind his charming smile. This fact only made Maddy want him harder.

As her desire for him expanded her distain for Millie grew in equal measure. She would catch her fantasizing about bullying Millie. She imagined getting fucked hard by Chad as the cheerleader was forced to watch and cry.

Maddy resented Millie with an intensity that surprised even her. It wasn't fair that someone so sweet and kind should have Chad. He needed someone who understood his cruelty, who could match his viciousness and revel in it. Someone increasingly like Maddy.

It eventually became too much for her and she needed to do something. That’s when she turned to the dark arts. She had found a small, dimly lit magic shop on the outskirts of town, a place whispered about in the darkest corners of the internet. There, she had bought the transfer spell.

The spell had cost her every penny of her college savings, but Maddy didn't care. She had watched in fascination as the shopkeeper, an old woman with piercing eyes, explained how the spell would work. It would transfer Millie's beauty to her, leaving Millie plain and unremarkable. Maddy would finally be worthy of Chad's attention.

She couldn’t practice the spell out loud as it had a one time use so she had scribbled the spell on the palm of her hand. A series of intricate symbols and words glowed faintly in the dim light against her pale skin. Soon, she would be everything he needed, everything he deserved. And Millie? Millie would be nothing.

Maddy waited until she saw Chad and Millie alone near the bleachers after school. Gathering her courage, she walked over, her heart pounding. Millie looked up and smiled warmly.

"Hi! Can we help you?" Millie greeted.

“Shut up bitch! In a second you’ll be nothing! Worse, you’ll be worthless!” Maddy spat with venom.

“Hey nerd nobody treats my lady like they even if you are a girl.” Chad said standing up intimidatingly. Maddy felt a rush of pleasure to her pussy.

“Mmmm yesss I love your passion, I can wait for it to be me you’re protecting.” Maddy grinned manically.

“Whatever you feel I’ve done to you I’m sure we can talk about it.” Millie said trying to defuse the situation.

“What you’ve done is you’ve kept this fine specimen of a man, a king even, on a leash. He walks on egg shells around you, hiding his true bastard behaviour. Once he’s mine, he’ll be free.” Maddy smirked.

“Babe, what does she mean your true nature? Have you gone back to bullying?” Millie said taking a step away from him.

“No of course not. Listen weirdo I’m flattered but you’re not my type." Chad said turning between Millie and Maddy trying to put out multiple fires.

Maddy smirked, her fingers tingling with the anticipation of what was to come. "I’m not now, but I will be in a moment."

She glanced at her hand, ready to read the spell. Her heart sank when she saw that some of the runes were smudged, blurred by the sweat from her nervous palms. Panic set in as she realized the spell might not work as intended.

She looked back at Chad, who was smirking, and Millie, who now wore a look of concern. Time seemed to freeze as she weighed her options. If she attempted the spell and it failed, it could backfire horribly. But she was too far gone now to back down. She had to take the risk.

What Maddy couldn’t have known was that this one decision created a split in reality, creating three parallel universes....

MADISON

Looking down at the ruins she began to chant. The air around her seemed to shimmer, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead as she hoped it would be enough.

As Maddy finished the chant, the air around her crackled with energy. Millie's eyes widened in horror as she felt a strange sensation wash over her. Maddy's lips curled into a triumphant smile, then she began to laugh, the sound echoing through the empty bleachers.

Millie’s golden hair, once thick and lustrous, started to lose its shine and volume, becoming dull and lifeless. At the same time, Maddy’s own hair transformed, growing longer, thicker, and darker with each passing second. While it didn't turn blonde it did take all of Millie's vitality and cascaded down her shoulders perfectly straight.

Maddy’s chest expanded, her previously modest figure now filling out into a curvaceous silhouette that demanded attention. Maddy’s hands immediately went to her gorgeous new tits and she rubbed them lovingly.

“I knew I’d love having your big boobs but this feels even better than I expected. Can’t wait to get that cock of yours in between.” Maddy said with a lustful look towards Chad who watched in bewilderment.

Her butt rounded and lifted, giving her a newfound confidence in her posture. Her muscles tightened around her, she felt not only strong but athletic. She knew instantly she could now do the splits with ease. She glanced down at her transformed body, her laughter growing louder.

“Mmmm thanks for the tight flexible body loser, with it I’ll be able to take your place as head cheerleader, not that you’ll be putting up much of a challenge.” Maddy said with a confident pose.

Her lips plumped, becoming fuller and more inviting, a deep, seductive red replacing their usual pale hue. They curved into a smile as she watched Millie’s lips thin and lose color.

“I knew taking everything you had would make me feel so hawt and nasty but seeing you lose it all is even better! I’m getting so horny.” She said biting her new enhanced bottom lip at Chad who now was feeling a twitch in his dick when she looked at him.

Maddy’s nails lengthened and hardened, turning into perfect, glossy tips that any girl would envy. She wiggled her fingers, admiring the transformation with glee, imagining all the wicked things she would do with them.

Finally, her skin smoothed out, removing the blemishes and acne she had instantly. It took on a flawless, porcelain quality, glowing with an inner radiance that had never been there before. Meanwhile, Millie’s skin dulled, imperfections marring her once perfect complexion.

Millie's voice trembled as she looked at Maddy, her once bright eyes now dull and filled with confusion. "What did you do to me, why do this to me?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Maddy stepped closer, her new beauty radiating an air of superiority. "I took what should have been rightfully mine. You never deserved this, you never deserved him." She sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

Maddy pushed Millie off the bleachers and she fell onto the hard dirt below. Chad watched the scene unfold, frozen to the spot as Maddy loomed over Millie.

Tears welled up in Millie's eyes as she tried to crawl backwards away from her new tormentor. "He won’t accept this! I’m his girlfriend! Chad tell her!" She pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation.

“Why would he want you, a fugly loser nobody, when he could have me, the bitchy irresistible Madison? Isn’t that right babe?” Madison said turning her head to Chad and noticing with triumphant that she could see the outline of his erect cock in his pants.

Chad walked up to Madison with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with a twisted amusement. He turned to Millie. "You? My girlfriend? As if loser. No my girlfriend is a badass bitch who is as sexy as she is cruel and she can bully whoever she likes." He said, his voice cold and indifferent.

Madison laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed in the empty bleachers. "See, Millie? Chad understands. He needs someone who can stand by his side and compliment his power, not some weak, pathetic little goodie goodie."

Madison turned to Chad and put her arms around his neck. “I’ve waited a long time to do this.” She said and leaned in for a kiss. Millie could only watch in horror as the cruel couple made out passionately. She knew she was beat and quietly tried to slip away.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. I believe you’re wearing something that belongs to me!” Madison said as she broke from her kiss to scold Millie. The former beauty queen stood and took off her cheerleading outfit and dressed down to her underwear which now loosely fit her.

Madison slipped out of her previously baggy now tight clothes and eagerly put on the uniform which fit her like a glove. Millie sadly reached for the baggy clothes before Madison slapped her hand.

“Don’t even think about it bitch. This transaction is complete, now get lost.” Madison said with a superior smirk and watched as Millie scampered away.

“My god, Madison you’re incredible. Why did I ever waste time with her?” Chad said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Exactly! You have a lot of wasted time to make up to me. Now where were we?” She replied as she turned around and the two started to kiss again.

Meanwhile in an alternate universe…

AMELIA

As Maddy chanted, the air grew thick with energy, and the symbols on her hand glowed brighter. She felt a strange sensation, a warmth spreading through her body. But something was wrong. The warmth turned into an uncomfortable heat, and she realized with horror that the spell was backfiring.

Maddy felt a surge of emotions flooding her mind, emotions she hadn’t anticipated. She was overwhelmed by a profound sense of kindness, love, and empathy. It was as if every ounce of Millie’s good nature was being transferred into her. Tears welled up in Maddy’s eyes as she felt a compassion she had never known.

Meanwhile, Millie’s eyes widened in shock. She stumbled backward, clutching her chest. A dark shadow seemed to pass over her face as Maddy’s darker desires began to seep into her. Millie’s expression hardened, a cruel smile twisting her lips. Her eyes, once filled with warmth, now gleamed with a predatory hunger.

Chad went to Millie, bewildered as he put his strong arms around her shoulders. “Babe are you alright, what’s happening?” He asked.

“Mmmm I feel fucking amazing.” Millie grinned wickedly as she composed herself. She straightened her posture, her demeanour completely changing. She looked at Chad with a cold, calculating gaze.

Maddy, now filled with Millie’s inherent goodness, looked at Millie and recognized the look of contempt on her face. Maddy’s heart ached with a compassion she had never felt before. “Millie, I’m so sorry I did this to you.” She said, her voice trembling.

“Save it loser, I’ve never felt fucking better.” Millie snapped, her eyes narrowing.

“Millie, what’s gotten into you?” Chad asked confused but a little intrigued. Millie turned to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“It’s not what’s gotten into me but what's gotten out. I wasted all this time caring about others and being kind to losers like this dork when I should have been ruling them like the queen I am. Queen Amelia! But what’s a queen without her king?” She smiled lustfully at Chad as they leaned in and kissed.

Maddy stepped back, her heart heavy with regret and the unexpected burden of Amelia's kindness. She knew Amelia's gaze would fall on her in a second and she shuddered to think what she would do. Although she had some idea.

However Amelia was too fast and Maddy was too slow. Amelia broke from her kiss and grabbed Maddy by her hair, yanking her head back with a sharp tug. “You pathetic little worm. You thought you could take what’s mine? You’re worthless.” She sneered, her voice cold and filled with venom.

Maddy winced in pain, tears streaming down her face. She felt helpless under Amelia's grip, the old her who cared for everyone was now completely gone. “Please, Amelia, I’m sorry.” Maddy pleaded, but her words only seemed to fuel Amelia’s lust for inflicting pain.

Amelia laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the empty bleachers. “Sorry? Oh, I don’t think you understand, Maddy. I wasted so many years being a goodie two shoes, playing nice, when I could have been a queen bitch. So now I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

She shoved Maddy to the ground, kicking her hard in the side. “Get up, bitch. You’re going to learn your place, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows exactly who’s in charge around here.” Amelia hissed.

Chad watched the scene unfold with a sick, twisted joy, a grin spreading across his face as Amelia continued to punish Maddy. He felt almost bad for the nerd she was wailing on, after all it was somehow because of her that he now had a girlfriend that suited his tastes to a tee.

On the other hand if Amelia now got off on bullying as much as he did than he wanted her to do as much of it as possible. The more she did, the more fun they would have fucking later.

Meanwhile in an alternate alternate universe…

CHANTELLE

Maddy's chant grew louder, the runes on her hand glowing brighter. Suddenly, a wave of energy burst forth, engulfing all three of them. For a brief moment, Maddy felt a surge of triumph. But then, everything went wrong.

Chad's body began to shimmer, his features becoming more refined, more feminine. Millie's beauty seemed to drain away, her radiant glow dimming as Chad absorbed it. But that wasn't all. Maddy felt a wrenching sensation deep within her as if something vital was being pulled out of her.

All desire to be a bad bitch was being sapped from her and flowed into Chad whose eyes widened as he received it. His already wicked desire to be cruel and evil only intensified.

"What is this?" He marveled, his voice gaining several octaves as he spoke. He watched as his muscles softened and shrunk. His broad shoulders narrowed, and his frame became more delicate. His hair, once short, flowed down past his shoulders in silky, smooth waves. Maddy watched in stunned silence as his jawline softened, losing its harsh angles, becoming more rounded and feminine.

“Mmmm whatever you’ve done to me freak I’m loving it!” He said, his voice now a bitchy purr.

His chest expanded, developing two large tits. His waist cinched inward, creating a striking hourglass figure. Chad’s once masculine hands and arms grew slender, his fingers becoming long and delicate. Long manicured nails shot out from his fingertips.

Millie stumbled back, her face pale and ordinary now, confusion and hurt in her eyes. “Chad, what’s happening?” She cried, her voice trembling.

Chad laughed, a cold, heartless sound that sent shivers down Maddy and Millie’s spine. “Oh shut it you frigid bitch! Who needs you when I can be the hot slut everyone wants.” He giggled as his skin tanned to perfection and he felt his dick shrink away into nothingness, with a perfectly sculpted pussy taking its place.

With a joyous moan the new bitch standing in front of Millie and Maddy arched her back and ran her fingers all over her new body. Maddy and Millie looked at her in stunned silence.

“What are you two unfuckable losers looking at? Haven’t you ever seen perfection before?” She snarled at them.

“Chad, we have to reverse this before it’s too late.” Millie said weakly.

“Chad? Chad is dead. I’m Chantelle and I’m feeling even nastier now as a hawt babe then I ever did as some dumb man. I assume that increased cruelness is what I stole from you is it?” Chantelle said turning to Maddy who was still speechless. Chantelle rolled her eyes and slapped Maddy across the face.

“Hey dumb bitch, I’m talking to you.” Chantelle spat.

“Y-yes. Yes that came from me. I’m so sorry, it’s just… I didn’t expect… I loved you.” Maddy said flustered.

“Awh you did this out of love for male me huh? And do you still love me?” Chantelle said mockingly.

To Maddy’s shame she still found she was enamoured with Chad’s cruelty even if she no longer desired to be bad and that he was now a she. Maddy nodded solemnly.

“Haha fucking priceless. And what about you?” Chantelle said turning to Millie with a newfound sadism glinting in her eyes. As much as Millie wanted to tell this new bitch to go to hell, she found herself unbelievably attracted to how cruel she was, just like Maddy, a side effect of the spell. She managed a nod.

“Oh isn’t this perfect, I have two little simping sluts who will do whatever I say just to please me. This is going to be delightful. Well come along then, I have a lot of work to do to become queen of this dump including fucking my ex teammates to get them under my thumb. It’s going to be so much fun.” Chantelle giggled as she turned to walk away, with Maddy and Millie following loyally behind her.

With three universes definitively changed forever by three new evil queens, my question for you dear reader is who did you prefer the most?

#f2f #corruption #bitchification #magic #evil bitch #evil couple #power transfer #m2f #cc2024 #helpinghand

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signanothername · 2 months ago

Note

penny for your thoughts on dadmare and more fandom takes??

🪙

Tbh Anon you have to be a bit more specific with what fandom takes you want my opinion on cause I genuinely can’t think of any shshhshshs

But for dadmare… hmmmmmmm

It’s… I have complicated feelings about this trope

Like on one hand, I love the exploration of dadmare as a concept and would genuinely love for it to be explored in a deep meaningful way

On the other hand… the fandom never actually explores it in a deep meaningful way so everytime I come across dadmare a part of me dies inside

Like the fandom immediately settles for “tired generic dad trying to control his rowdy kids” and i’m here like :’)

Like i’d love for dadmare to actually be explored in depth, like the shift for Nightmare from being a bitch to being “dadmare” how does Nightmare deal with MTT in a dadmare way while staying true to his character

How did Nightmare develop and change and how does he feel about being “dadmare”, does he struggle to face the consequences of the abuse he put MTT through and how does he make it up to them? but like also for the love of god you can explore this trope without having MTT act like children, they’re literally +30 old men and you don’t have to infantilize them for the trope to work

Also hot take but everytime MTT call Nightmare “dad” unironically an angel loses its wings, it just ruins the vibes for me, like dadmare is a trope yet people genuinely take it too literally, which again just plays into the infantilization of adult characters

Hell, relationships aren’t one sided, how does MTT feel about Nightmare’s shift, do they trust him or do they take it as an opportunity to escape, do they hate Nightmare but warm up to him or do they not care for his change of heart

Like here’s an example, when people write dadmare, they write his ability to absorb MTT’s negativity to relieve them of their pain right? Ok cool, I LOVE THAT! What I hate tho is the fact every single person in the gang seems to “trust” Nightmare with their life and how all of them react the same way

Basically the MTT are reduced to cardboard cutouts that are literally just duplicates of each other, they all have the exact same reaction to anything Nightmare does, like you’re actually gonna sit here and tell me that Killer trusts Nightmare with his soul????? What did Nightmare do to earn that trust, and Killer isn’t a trusting person to begin with

Hell what did Nightmare do in the first place? Even when the interpretation of Nightmare is that he’s kind from the beginning and that he “saved them”, do you honestly believe that Murder would genuinely feel saved? Are you gonna tell me Horror is gonna stay and live with Nightmare by his own volition and abandon his brother where he only goes back to “visit” him? Since when has Nightmare become more important to Horror than Papyrus?

Hell since when can Murder, Killer and Horror communicate well?? Since when were they super close to each other and since when was Murder ok with Killer’s existence considering his very dangerous Determination and Chara-like nature?

Since when was Killer super emotional in stage 2 and since when was his other stages completely forgotten to fit the perfectly happy and healthy family that the fandom is trying to force onto these obviously unhealthy characters with unhealthy relationships and destructive behaviors

Like don’t get me wrong, people are obviously allowed to explore their fave characters however they like, but my point is, I can’t enjoy the trope of Dadmare even tho i want to, cause the fandom just settles for very straight forward answers to every problem, every little problem is immediately resolved with a snap of a finger

Everything is happy and rainbows and roses and any problems the MTT have they just go to dadmare and suddenly they’re no longer self destructive cause dadmare immediately saves them cause he always has the answer!!!

And i’m here still waiting for an interpretation of dadmare that actually pulls me in and actually interests me like

#anothers ask

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 3.7k

Chapter 4/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father. The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst.

Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him.

He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could.

“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”

At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity.

He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now.

“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar.

“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”

His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy.

There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain.

Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams.

It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink.

“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”

A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him.

“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”

Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?

The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'

The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.

“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”

“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.

“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.

“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”

“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.

The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.

“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.

“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.

“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.

Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals.

He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.

“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”

“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.

You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.

A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.

A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.

You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?

“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”

You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”

The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?

“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”

He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”

“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”

“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”

“Your personal business?”

“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”

Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.”

“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”

He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”

Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”

“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss.

“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”

The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch.

You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.

It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.

You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.

Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.

He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know.

It wasn’t you.

When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.

“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”

Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit.

“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”

Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”

Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”

“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”

“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control.

Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised.

“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”

He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—

“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 5 months ago

Text

My Fair Lady's Maid (Regency!Aemond x Lady's Maid!Reader)

Part 1: Loverly

Frustrated with his grandsire's tedious and thorough process of choosing him a "suitable" bride, Aemond makes a declaration that a lady's maid could be indistinguishable from a true noblewoman so long as she was sufficiently dressed and educated in embroidery, conversation, and the like. Otto takes this as a challenge, and gives Aemond four months to turn one of Helaena's lady's maids into a noblewoman.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond is just a bitch ass rude motherfucker

Point of View: Limited third person omniscient

Author's Note: Enjoy happiness! Or at least more than you'd get with WIB...

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Loverly

“Now, what are you doing here, Miss Doolittle?” Mrs. Cunningham asked from behind a wall of flowers – peonies and daisies, roses and hydrangeas, violets and lilies. “I thought you’d be well on your way to Kingswood by now.”

“And miss me last market day? Never!”

There was very little in the world that was more exciting to Miss Doolittle than market day in Rosby. For others, almost anything else was more exciting, but not to her. For a few hours once a week, the sleepy town of only a few dozen people that made up her entire world grew into a bustling city. New people, new gossip, new trinkets and doodads from all over the countryside for her to gawk at.

It was better than a circus.

At least, she imagined it to be. She’d never been to a circus.

“Can’t hurt to earn a few coins more before I leave, can it?” she asked as she stooped to the ground and began picking through the smaller stems that had fallen on the journey between Mrs. Cunningham’s wagon and her brightly painted stall. Those that were still mostly passable found their way into a threadbare basket.

Market day was when she made her living, even if it was just enough to pay the rent on her tiny basement apartment and cover her tab at the local pub. Though sometimes, she made enough to share with those even less fortunate than her.

“And what would you be spending it on, dear?” Mrs. Cunningham asked, not so slyly dropping a few of the finer blooms. She was a kind woman, a florist from King’s Landing. She had a shop in the city where she sold her flowers and bouquets most of the week, but she came to Rosby each Saturday. Most of the rich people in the county lived in the city, but there were several manors further out in the countryside that needed their flowers, too.

Fancy folk loved fresh flowers. Even the ones who weren’t actually rich enough to be fancy, but tried to pretend like they were, would pay for a flower just to show that they had the money to spend on something that’d be dead in a day or two.

She was only nine years old when Mrs. Cunningham gifted her an old wicker basket and began letting her take the flowers that were too small, slightly crushed, or not quite the right color to use in her bouquets that would otherwise be discarded. Then, she’d flit around the marketplace, selling them for a penny each.

If she had a good day, she’d make enough to pay her expenses and buy herself a sweet or two after her evening meal. If she had a bad day… she’d find a way to make do.

It wasn’t charity, like her father used to say before he drank himself to death. She worked for it, and that meant she earned it—every penny. Mrs. Cunningham always told her so, too. The old woman was very proud of her little protégé, in fact. So proud that she’d begun making inquiries about other jobs for the girl – real jobs.

Miss Doolittle shrugged, “Oh, this ‘n that. Fare for the journey ‘n such.”

“Your new employers are making you pay for your own journey?” Mrs. Cunningham asked with a raised brow as she wrapped a satin ribbon around a bouquet of pale yellow lilies. “I thought they were sending one of their own to fetch you in the morning.”

She would know. A fortnight ago, it was Mrs. Cunningham herself who found Miss Doolittle a new opportunity: a position as a lady’s maid for the eccentric daughter of a duke. The poor lady was so odd she’d frightened away nearly every other employable girl in the county, so her butler had no qualms about hiring someone with so little experience as long as she had at least one decent reference.

So tomorrow, Miss Doolittle would leave her basement behind and travel deeper into the forests of County Westeros to Kingswood Manor, where she would begin to look after the eccentric Lady Helaena Targaryen, son of the late Duke Viserys Targaryen. With the wage they’d promised, she didn’t need to be selling flowers today.

“Thought I might should get some new shoes or… ribbons for my hair?” She shrugged. Perhaps she could even make enough to buy something nice to put in her room in the Manor’s servant’s quarters. She’d always wanted her very own clock.

“Gotta pay off some folk, too,” she sighed. The basket was nearly full now, but she wanted to try to nab a few of those pink roses – they were always popular. “Don’t want to have to send my wages all the way back here.”

Mrs. Cunningham dropped a bundle of nearly perfect rosebuds in the basket, then drew the girl’s gaze back to her face. “Buy yourself something nice, dear. You deserve it.”

Tears began to spring to her eyes, and she looked away to avoid meeting Mrs. Cunningham’s kind gaze – she’d only cry harder if she did. “Thank you. For everything. I –”

Her ramblings of gratitude were cut off when the florist took the girl into her arms, squeezing tight enough to choke her. “Just make the best of it, dear. Work hard, like you always have. And never stop coming to see me, promise?”

Finally, she hugged Mrs. Cunningham back. “I promise.”

The best customers were always near the dressmakers and textile sellers, young women who couldn’t resist the perfect flower to match their new frock. It was on the other side of town, but if Miss Doolittle wanted to afford a clock, that’s where she needed to go first.

She had taken only a single step into the street when someone large and firm collided with her, knocking her to the ground in an instant.

“AAAAOOWWWW!”

Her knees pounded with pain, the edges of her vision pulsing black, but she pulled herself up to her elbows, focusing only on what was directly in front of her.

The flowers were scattered across the cobblestones, half already trampled on by people scrambling to avoid falling with her. Those had been the best blossoms, the ones she put at the top of her basket to entice people into buying from her. All that remained in her basket were the scant pickings she used to make the basket look full.

Nearly a full day’s wages – more, with those rosebuds – gone like that.

“What in the devil’s name was that noise, girl?” The bastard who ran into her sneered. She’d never before heard a voice so suited to sneering. She lifted her head to growl something back at him, but any biting words quickly died when she saw who looked down at her.

He was finer than any man – any person – she’d ever seen in Rosby. Not a single silver hair out of place, not a loose thread anywhere on his fine clothes, or a speck of dust on him. Well, except for the slight smudge of grime left on his deep green tailcoat from where he’d crashed into her. The sight of it made her want to crawl into her dirty basement and never come out again.

“You should watch where you’re walking, brother,” another man, standing next to the severe man who had run into her, said. The familiar resemblance was obvious in their coloring – the silver hair, the eyes so vibrantly blue they were nearly violet.

The severe man scoffed, his lip curling as he looked at her. “I was, Daeron. But the little wretch came out of nowhere.”

“I ain’t no ‘wretch!’” she shouted, indignation burning through her fear and embarrassment. “I’m a respectacle woman, I am!”

The man scoffed and rolled his eyes, and only then did she notice: his left eye was entirely white, its milky paleness emphasized by the angry red scar stretching from his forehead down through his cheek.

She didn’t mean to stare, really. But she had never seen a man who looked like him – scar or no. He was like something out of a fairy tale. Especially when his scowl deepened, and his one blue eye seemed to catch fire.

“Have you looked your fill?” he growled. She immediately averted her gaze, not knowing what to say. She couldn’t think of a single word.

The other man stepped forward, angling his cane slightly in front of his brother. He was softer, kinder looking. “Now, now, she’s just had quite the fall. Allow her to recover her senses.”

“I doubt she has any to recover.”

She flinched at his cruel tone and tried to hide it by picking up her basket full of little more than mulch. “My flowers…”

“Lord, she can’t even talk properly.” The severe man turned to his brother as she began picking through the spilled blossoms. “She sounds like a strangled goose.”

Evidently, the scene was too much for even the worst of the gossip mongers to endure, and the final gawkers turned back to their business. How was she ever supposed to speak to any of them again after this?

At least she’d be gone tomorrow. No one at Kingswood would know about this.

The kinder man – Daeron, the other had called him – hissed something before kneeling with her to help her pick at the flowers. He didn’t care to see if they were ruined; he just put them all back in the basket. “These are yours?”

She nodded.

“What are they for?”

“I sell ‘em,” she explained, wiping away an errant tear. The cruel man scoffed again when she sniffled. “Penny a bloom, tuppence for three. But…”

Daeron looked at the trampled violets, daisies, and rosebuds, then at the meager offerings that remained unharmed in her basket. The only reason anyone would buy them now would be to feed some animal. For that, she’d hardly get enough to pay her rent and have to use what little money she had hidden in a wooden box under her bed to cover her tab at the pub.

She wouldn’t be able to buy the clock.

“How much for the basket?” Daeron asked as he pulled out a pouch of coins.

“What?” She and the cruel man said at the same time, in the same disbelief.

He stepped forward, a large hand gripping his cane like it were a club he’d beat her with. “It is nothing but weeds, brother. Let’s move on.”

As much as she hated it, she agreed with him. “I don’t want your charity, sir,” she told Daeron. “I earn my money.”

The cruel man put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, ready to pull him away. “You heard her. Let us go.”

“No, Aemond!” Daeron pulled away from his brother – Aemond. The name was familiar to her, somehow. But the man himself turned away, his cheeks flushing slightly. Perhaps he was embarrassed, too. Good.

“It is not charity,” Daeron insisted. “We have damaged your wares, and we are compensating you. It is a fair exchange.”

“I…” she was too flustered to truly comprehend his words, much less calculate how much the destroyed flowers were worth.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Aemond stepped forward, pushing his brother back. He snatched the pouch, withdrew a few coins without looking at them, and tossed them toward her basket. Only one made it in, the others plinking onto the cobblestones. “There. You are compensated. Let us go.”

She vaguely heard Daeron say something in protest, but both men were gone when she looked up from gathering the stray coins. No one looked at her, as if she had dreamed the entire encounter. Depositing the coins in the basket, she quickly left the market and returned to her little room in a dirty basement.

Miss Doolittle dumped the contents of the basket on her bed. The flowers were thoroughly ruined now, but seven coins were glimmering amongst their dull petals: a sixpence, two shillings, two half-crowns, and two crowns.

Whatever the flowers had been worth, this was so much more. Perhaps more than she had ever possessed in her life. It could buy her that clock – the finest clock at the market, even. And more. But when she touched the coins, they felt oily. Wrong.

She had not earned it, and neither was it charity. These coins were an insult, a dismissal. That cruel man—Aemond—had thrown them at her like they were table scraps and she was a starving mutt.

It was more money than she ever dreamed, yet it was nothing to him but the soon-forgotten cost of ridding himself of an inconvenience.

She could not buy the clock. Not with this. But she would not let it go to waste. She added the sixpence, shillings, and one of the half-crowns to her box. That would pay all her remaining debts.

That still left her with two crowns and one-half crown. And while she had no intention of spending it, she knew someone who would have no hesitations whatsoever about doing so himself.

Market day ended the moment the sun set, and Rosby was once again just a quiet little town. Nearly every resident, now exhausted from a day hawking their wares or frantically trying to buy everything they’d need until the next market day, converged in the Ailing Rooster, the beloved, if more than a little run-down, local pub.

Miss Doolittle would usually be found in the middle of the throng, soaking up any gossip she could find and happily picking bits off other people’s plates. But tonight, she had merely claimed a small corner table where she sat staring at her three remaining coins. The longer she looked at the stamped faces on the coins, the more they started to look like that man – Aemond.

If that was how fancy folk saw her, what hope did she have for when the Duke’s daughter saw her? Would she be fired on the spot?

The excitement in her chest began to turn to nervousness at the thought. Was she little more than a fool for thinking she could actually do this?

Part of her was tempted to throw them into the fire to watch that stupid, sharp, beautiful face burn, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, even if she didn’t want the money for herself. There was someone out there who needed it. Or at least, who would appreciate it very much.

“How’re you gonna sulk the day before you go to live in bleedin’ paradise, ‘Little?”

She swiped the coins back into her little purse before Alfred could land in the seat across from her, his compatriots, Harry and Jaimie, close behind him. If he saw them, he’d only try to convince her to buy them all a round, but while the money was still hers, she would not allow it to be spent on drink. “I’m not sulkin’, just tired. And it’s not gonna be a ‘paradise.’”

“Yer sulkin’,” Harry laughed as he slyly swapped his half-full tankard with Alfred’s full one.

“Am not.”

“You are.” Jaime leaned forward, genuine concern on his face. “What’s wrong, girl? I thought you were excited about leaving?”

She sighed. “I was – I am! Just havin’ a bad day, I guess.”

All three men exchanged a look.

“We ‘eard,” Jaime nudged her with a shoulder. At least they hadn’t been planning to bring it up themselves. “Rich bastard.”

“Shit-sack,” Harry added.

Alfred slammed his tankard on the table. “Twat.”

A small smile bloomed on her lips. “Well, least I’ll never have to see ‘im again, right?”

Harry raised his stolen ale. “I’ll drink to that!”

“In a week, you won’t remember this,” Alfred added, flapping his hands about like he could swat the memories away from her. “You’ll be in a palace wearing silk and gold and won’t give a damn what some moron said to you.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing Harry’s tankard and taking a large gulp. “I’ll be a servant, I don’t think I’ll be wearing any silk or gold.”

“But you’ll make good money, maybe you can buy yourself something nice!”

Jaime nodded. “Maybe you’ll make enough to buy your own palace in a few years?”

“I don’t want a palace,” she admitted. In truth, she’d never really thought about a future beyond Rosby until about two weeks prior. “It’d be too big for just me.”

“Who says it would just be you, ‘Little?” She glared at Harry, and he swiftly looked away, already ruddy cheeks blushing even redder.

She leaned back in her chair, her hand reaching her pocket to fiddle with her coins. “Even if there was someone, I don’t want a palace. I just want…”

What did she want?

Something better than Rosby, but nothing too grand. She wouldn’t fit somewhere grand. So…

“All I want is a little cottage somewhere nice, where it doesn’t smell like cattle or sheep.” The more she spoke, the clearer the vision became. “I want a massive fireplace, so the whole place stays warm even when it’s snowing. And a garden – I want a place to grow my own flowers. Wouldn’t that be loverly?”

When she looked back up, all her friends were smiling at her. She soon joined them.

“Loverly, ‘Little,” Alfred agreed.

Suddenly, she did not feel so nervous to leave for Kingswood in the morning. She knew what she wanted, even if the details were still fuzzy. Holding that dream close to her chest, she was sure she could endure anything to get that loverly little cottage.

189 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 4 months ago

Text

Sunny Side

Whitley:Ruby. Wake up. *shakes her*

Ruby:Mmm, where’s the fire? It’s like five in the morning.

Whitley:It’s strawberry season in Patch.

Ruby:I am aware….

Whitley:Let’s gets some fresh fruit in breakfast. You can sleep on the airship.

Ruby:Okay- wha?

[The airship]

Ruby, half awake:….*looks to the right*

Winter: *listening to music*

Sparrow:I bet I can fly this.

Penny:Sir, please sit down. I already have a co-pilot.

Oscar:That is- he is a literal retired soldier.

Jaune and Weiss:*reading*

Nick and Summer:Zzzz

Ruby:Uncle Qrow?

Qrow:*playing cards* Yeah?

Ruby:We married rich.

Qrow:Is that sinking in now?

Ruby:Little bit.

Nora:And we’re reaping the benefits.

Ren:Whitley just didn’t want to feel your anger about a breakfast trip.

Valerie:*writing* I’m not complaining. My book report wasn’t finished.

Ruby:…Baaaaabe?

Whitley:What’s up sleepyhead.

Ruby:Can we make a detour?

xxxxxxx

Bzzz bzzz b-

Yang:*grabs scroll* Uuuuggh. Where’s the fire?

Ruby:Look outside bitch.

Yang rolls out of bed and practically crawls to her window where Blake is staring to see a fancy airship hovering near her house.

Ruby:Grab your pants, wife, and child. We’re gonna make mom’s pancakes.

Yang:….Sure.

xxxxxx

Whitley:Welcome to the breakfast express.

Yang:You need less money.

Blake:I bought some honey, syrup, and spices my mom made.

Whitley:This is why you’re my favorite member.

Ruby and Weiss:Wow that’s craaazy.

Veronica casually walks on board in her pjs and heads straight towards the twins without a second thought. She picks up a sleepy Summer that leans on her brother and moves her one seat down, then sits down. She tugs Summer so she falls back in place, offering her own right arm as a substitute while resting her head on Nick before promptly going back to sleep.

Yang:…At least she was nice about it.

xxxxxx

Knock Knock Knock

Tai:*opens door* ….Strawberry picking?

Yang and Ruby:Hehe, yeah.

Tai:I’ll go grab your old baskets.

xxxxxxx

Nick was used to the rich life, but even had to admit it was pretty surreal to be at home in the cold one moment, then woken up a few hours later to put on a sunhat and pick some berries. Everyone this morning was just…cool with it. This was life right now. Singing early birds and strawberry baskets.

Nick:Wasn’t there school today?

Summer:Don’t be lame and keep picking. Gods it smells nice out here. I’m a little jealous we don’t come here more often.

Valerie:The sun has barely risen and yet it’s so warm.

Veronica:Country air smells different from the sea or city life. I visit Gramps occasionally and even I’m not used to it. It’s pretty jarring.

Summer:Kinda like waking up in a different plane seat.

Veronica:If that’s what you want to compare it too.

Summer:Don’t sweep that under the rug!!!

xxxxx

Ruby:Pancakes 🎶

Yang:Whoop whoop🎶

Weiss:Pancakes 🎶

Winter.Whoop Whoop🎶

Nora:Pancakes pancakes pancakes pancakes🎶

Ren:Buttermilk, Strawberry, shortcake, or tall!🎶

Jaune:You already know I’m eating them all!🎶

Qrow :Crack a few eggs and hash a few browns!🎶

Tai:Put em on my plate and I’m gonna chow down!🎶

Penny:Grab a plate and some friends to tag along…🎶

Everyone:Took making cooking fun with the breakfast song!🎶

All the kids slowly set the table as they watched the grown ups cut up fruit, flip pancakes, pour drinks, and butter pans.

Veronica:You’re not gonna sing?

Blake:There are enough people in that kitchen.

Oscar:Yeah satisfied fixing chairs.

Whitley:*sitting* Zzzz

Sparrow:This guy planned everything and now decides to sleep!? *pokes face*

Ruby:Leave him alone!

Sparrow:Did she even turn around?

Oscar:Did she really need to with you?

xxxxxx

It took about half an hour before the smell of breakfast was rich enough to wake Whitley just in time. Now it was his who was wide awake as she happily carried trays in hand alongside Yang, Weiss, and Penny; they happily danced side to side in messy aprons as they put food on the table for everyone. Nora would’ve joined if she could be trusted, and Winter was happily on Nora restraint duty.

Stacks of strawberry pancakes in the shape of roses and buttermilk pancakes in the form of the sun were presented with hash browns, eggs, sausage, biscuits, ham, the whole spread and additional goodies for everyone to eat. They took their seat and looked at Whitley as if he wanted to make some grand speech.

Whitley:*smiles* You waiting for an invitation? *raises glass* To a good day.

Everyone:To a good day!

Not a moment was wasted passing around plates. Whitley went to grab a fork when his empty plate was suddenly replaced with a full breakfast by Ruby. The lady quickly cut a piece of the pancake drizzled in cinnamon syrup and raised to his face to make him blush.

Ruby:Thank you for the trip. Now say aaah~

Whitley:I-In front of everyone?

Ruby:Don’t be shy now. It’s just for the first bite. It’s tradition here. Then you give me a bite.

Qrow:If your sister can do it, you can too.

Winter:*chews shamefully*

They look at Weiss to see her eat off of Jaune’s fork without hesitation. She even opens her mouth again to receive another bite before giggling. Meanwhile the likes of Penny, Nora, and Blake, treated this like an everyday occurrence. With a display like that, Whitley had no choice but to summon the courage to say “aah” and get fed a bite.

Ruby:How is it!?

Whitley:…I can go for another.

107 notes · View notes

hadesrise · 7 months ago

Text

beware of the nicest guy.

summary ➳ even the nicest guy turns violent when provoked. patience isn’t forever.

pairings ➳ sweet pea x male reader

warnings ➳ fluff, violence, reggie being an asshole, foul language, homophobia, homophobic slur, mentions of being ganged up, broken bones, blood, no use of (y/n)

author’s note ➳ i’ve always done this trope, haven’t i? 😔 previously written on closedmadness, edited. that one will be deleted.

Northsiders refusing to welcome Southsiders isn’t an unfamiliar matter in the northside of Riverdale. Nearly everyone was the same; prejudice littered across the town with judgmental stares and narrow-mindedness that serves as immaturity, their lack of human decency evident with the way they’d rather spread hatred and negativity than actually get to know the Southsiders.

It’s gotten a lot boring, if the Southside Serpents were being honest.

Being constantly picked on by Reggie Mantle and the Bulldogs while the others watched, it was getting too old and unamusing for the gang. There’s nothing new to the way Reggie spits insults after insults that doesn’t even offend them in the slightest, the lack of creativity just making him seem like an unloved child. His mouth continuously moved despite the Serpents displaying a bored look on their faces, his superiority complex getting the best of him and causing him to be blind to his surroundings.

It was supposed to be the same; get picked on, everyone ignores, the Bulldogs get tired and leave, just like that. However, a new unfamiliar presence disrupted the routine that everyone seemingly fell into.

Adorned in an indie outfit of white button down, brown vest and khaki trousers that’s almost out of place in Riverdale High from its simplicity, you hurriedly walked towards the commotion and separated the Bulldogs from the Serpents by shoving Reggie back. The jock stumbled back from the force before glaring at you, who didn’t hesitate to stand tall in front of the Southsiders without much thought.

The Serpents who were in front, Sweet Pea, Toni and Fangs seemed taken aback by your protective stance, how you stood as if you were shielding them from the stupid jocks. They stared at the back of your head as you stared at Reggie, deeply unimpressed.

“Won’t there be a day where I don’t hear you making a fuss?” You asked rhetorically, sighing and adjusting the files you were holding in one arm. “It’s about time you grow up and act like your age, Mantle.”

Reggie sarcastically smiled, ignoring your remarks. “If it isn’t the nicest guy in Riverdale.” He tilted his head, “You would get nothing out of defending these fuckers, Mr. President. It’s only pointless, so get out of my way.”

“Picking on them is also pointless, what are you exactly trying to prove?” You retort, raising one of your eyebrows and shoving your empty hand in the pocket of your trousers. “This childish and immature actions must be definitely coming from being spoiled like a brat by your parents, but I assure you, you look nothing like but a pathetic attention-seeking bitch for going after people that couldn’t even give a single penny to care about you.”

A snicker erupts from behind you, undoubtedly from a couple of the Serpents, as Reggie clenched his jaw and stepped forward with a harsh glare.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“I’m sure you’re not deaf.” You fiercely met his eyes, unbothered by how he looks like he could punch you any moment. “I’m also sure what I said was true, but you’ll only prove me right if you attack me right now.” Your eyes cunningly glinted under the school lights.

Reggie grits his teeth, glares at the Serpents for a few moments before turning around to walk away, his teammates following behind.

A deep sigh escapes your lips as soon as he was out of sight, pinching the bridge of your nose under your round spectacles and turning around in your place to see the Serpents still standing there, observing you. They all plastered a curiosity on their faces since you were a new sight to them, someone who had never caught their eyes before. It’s also intriguing how you seem much more… nonchalant and mature than the other students, your atmosphere holding calmness that’s rare to find in people they’ve encountered.

“I apologize on their behalf. I know you could’ve handled it by yourselves, but settling things down is my job around here.” You formed an apologetic smile, which surprised them, along with the friendliness in your tone. No one had ever talked or looked at them like that. It was strange to interact with someone who had no malice or negativity in the atmosphere.

“Don’t be sorry!” Toni grinned, holding her hand out. “I’m Toni. These are Fangs and Sweet Pea.”

You shook her hand and introduced yourself before looking at the two guys on both of her sides, Sweet Pea’s eyes lingering on you causing you to flash him a shy smile and look back at Toni, gesturing to her pink hair. “I really like your hair, it’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” She happily fluffed her hair with her hands.

“This is probably your first time seeing me here, I’m actually the school president although Cheryl likes to act more like it.” You explained with a chuckle.

Sweet Pea raised his brows, “How come you’re not around?”

“I’ve been doing charity work for my family’s business,” You shrugged. “Teaching kids basic lessons, serving foods and drinks to people in need, visiting nursing homes, taking care of people with disability, something like that. My family’s business provide help to all community that needs a helping hand.”

Your explanation left them impressed as their eyes fell on the files in your arm, some posters and documents sticking out from it. There were also sticky notes and note tabs that shows your effort to the project, which revealed your genuineness to help people. Perhaps, Reggie Mantle was really telling the truth when he said you’re the nicest guy in Riverdale. The way you smiled was genuine and warm, as if it came from the bottom of your heart, looking at them with nothing but kindness and friendliness behind your bright eyes that sparkles in excitement.

Toni found you adorable, your softness coming off as unexpected from your sophisticated attitude. Fangs found you cool, your lack of hesitation in calling out other’s bullshit even when people were just muttering among themselves making him laugh and want to befriend you more.

Sweet Pea, on the other hand, found you endearing. You were like a bright soul that got lost in a jungle full of animals, the only sane and more human person in this town. Your soothing laugh tugs at the strings on his heart as warmth spreads across his chest, an unfamiliar feeling building up in his stomach. He admires the way you push your glasses up with one finger when it slides down, the way you furrow your brows when concentrating, the way your fingers flip the page of the files you’ve made by yourself.

You had enthusiastically joined them in class when you found out they shared the same one as you, choosing to sit near them so you’ll be able to have hushed conversations while the teacher discussed some nonsense.

Everyday, you would spend time with them despite the amount of students wanting to converse with you, becoming some sort of an unofficial member of their little circle as you share them some accomplishments you’ve achieved. Getting taught by you in their studies proved to be so much effective than listening to boring professors when Sweet Pea discovered he actually excelled at mathematics while Toni at history and Fangs at science, with Jughead not being surprised at the outcome. He did expect it since you were one of the most excellent students.

The four of them occupied the seats on the corner of the classroom, Jughead and Toni on the last row with Sweet Pea and Fangs on the front, unbothered by the subtle looks being thrown their way as you sat in front of them concentrated on a paper. You were seemingly working on another project for your family business.

Sweet Pea couldn’t help but stare at you, admiring how your structured features shift each time you come up with ideas. He wanted to ask you on something about the paperwork he was doing, but admiring you first seemed ideal in his head.

Feeling someone drill a hole on the side of your face, you turned to meet Sweet Pea’s eyes and your features softened, a warm smile spreading across your lips. He made sure to engrave it in his eyes.

“What’s up, Pea? You’re staring.” You chuckled, sounding like a soothing melody in Sweet Pea’s ears as his face also softens.

“I kinda need help with this,” He says, voice uncharacteristically quiet and warm, scooting closer to show you his notebook. “You okay with me bothering you for a bit?”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind.” You shrugged and settled your pen on top of the desk, fully facing him to start explaining where he didn’t understand. Sweet Pea kept nodding each time you explained, his gaze never leaving your face yet still understanding everything you say, a subtle almost peaceful smile across his lips.

Both of you had failed to notice the three of your friends burning holes into the two of you.

“Are they…?” Jughead trailed off, pointing at you.

Both Toni and Fangs shook their heads, “Not yet, unfortunately.” They replied in sync before Fangs adds, “Though I think it’s a matter of time before Sweets make a move.”

“Bet,” Jughead smirks.

They weren’t wrong.

The Serpents and the Corefour with Kevin and Cheryl gathered in the cafeteria, unbothered by looks shot by Northsiders as they conversed among one another, light meals in front of each of them with the exception of Sweet Pea who was restlessly drumming on the table with his hands. He keeps looking back at the entrance, as if he expects someone to barge in any moment.

Toni and Fangs exchanged a glance with smirks before Jughead nudged Sweet Pea lightly to catch his attention. “Where’s your lunch?”

“Didn’t get any,” The tall serpent shrugged, but failing to hide his excitement despite his attempt.

“Right, ‘cause your boyfriend’s making you one.” Toni snickers, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. Sweet Pea scoffed and rolled his eyes, but couldn’t resist the smile spreading across his lips.

The cafeteria doors opened as you finally enter with a lunch box and box of cupcakes in both hands, your eyes scanning across the room before falling on your boyfriend. A smile easily crossing Sweet Pea’s face when you waved enthusiastically and started rushing towards their table.

He immediately pulls you to sit on his lap and you peck him on the lips as a greeting, making your friends let out awes. You giggled after pulling away, making him smile. “What’s up, baby?”

“I made a lunch for you,” You showed him the round metallic lunch box with an excited grin. “It’s really not much, but I’m confident with my cooking skills so I promise it’s not poisonous. I also baked cupcakes!” Placing the lunch box in front of Sweet Pea on the table, you set the box of cupcakes down in the middle to ensure it wasn’t just for your lover.

Sweet Pea’s eyes sparkled in joy, his atmosphere radiating happiness that the Serpents had almost never seen him with. His anger issues tend to be the most noticeable trait of him, but ever since he got with you, they feel like it calmed down a bit. He kisses you on the cheek as a sign of gratitude before opening the lunch box and coming across his favourite foods, making his smile widen if that was possible. It made you smile softly, ruffling the back of his hair.

“Aww, aren’t there any for us?” Fangs asked, his arm thrown around Kevin’s shoulders.

“I want some too,” Toni whines beside Cheryl, attempting to reach her hand into the lunch box but being swatted lightly by Sweet Pea with a glare.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

You laughed at their interaction and gestured to the thick and big box of cupcakes, “I couldn’t make lunch so I over-baked some cupcakes. Sorry pals, maybe next time.”

Everyone letting out cheers and noises of excitement, Cheryl stands up to open the big package and distribute each, the delicious sweet scent of baked goods making them sniff it. Awing at the sight of different flavoured cupcakes, Fangs couldn’t help but take a bite of his chocolate flavoured one, letting out satisfied noises before holding it out for Kevin to have a taste.

You also picked a banana flavoured cupcake for yourself after observing their reactions, pleased at the satisfaction and pleasant surprise coating their faces. Having a mother who opened her own bakery by your house had its perks; you were able to learn how to bake and cook many things through helping her, making it your new hobby. It also helped greatly in terms of charity work — you can share foods to people who aren’t financially capable and give them the opportunity to taste what they’ve never tasted before. Your father became even more proud that you’ve found more ways than one to help the people in need.

“This is so fucking good,” Sweet Pea remarks while munching on the lunch you gave him, oblivious to the loving gaze you had on him.

Everyone watches with soft smiles on their faces, how equally in love with each other you looked despite the obvious differences between your upbringing.

It came as a shock to everyone — except the Serpents — when the news spread that the nicest guy in Riverdale and the rage filled Serpent were dating. Some people placed a bet on how long it will last, some people showed their prejudice and disappointment, some people genuinely didn’t care.

Offhanded commentators were quickly shut off when the two of you displayed affection and love towards each other and ignored them entirely. No one could even tell you in person how much you let them down for associating with the worst one of Serpents because you always acted ignorant with too much happiness. If someone were to tell you that it was a terrible choice to date Sweet Pea, they were met with your passive-aggressive remarks on questionable choices they’ve made in the past that you somehow knew about. It got terrifying, to say the least.

The difference in your upbringing, status, or anything else didn’t matter at all. Neither of you judged each other for what you are.

Sweet Pea never questioned your unconditional kindness despite feeling upset when you let assholes slide, instead choosing to get angry at them for your sake. You never questioned his status as a gang member despite the several unpleasant rumours about Southside Serpents, instead choosing to learn what he does in their daily life and educate yourself.

The two of you fit together perfectly like a puzzle, as if you were each other’s missing piece. Arguments happen sometimes, but it’s quickly finished before the next day.

Really funny how the most healthy and non-toxic relationship in all of Riverdale is between a young Serpent and a young Humanitarian.

Unsurprisingly, the Serpents were quick to treat you as their own even before Sweet Pea had begun dating you. Your lack of judgment made every single one of them comfortable in your presence, often greeting you wherever you go and even helping you out when you need an extra hand, unafraid to be themselves knowing you wouldn’t think low of them. Your boyfriend’s friends were the most happiest at how their gang was being treated by you; all of them had nearly forgotten what it’s like to be seen as normal.

However, one question always remained in the back of their heads.

Could you get violent if pushed hard enough?

You never were.

There’s always an angelic halo floating above your head no matter where you go and no matter how aggressive your mouth gets. Sure, you spit out impressive insults sometimes when you get truly irritated by some idiotic behaviour, but that never really changed anyone’s perspective that you couldn’t hurt a fucking fly.

You were still soft, still kind. It’s impossible to even think about you having violent outbursts, it just seems too uncharacteristic of you.

Sweet Pea was always the one to throw fists when someone insults you knowing you’d never defend yourself. He’s the hot-headed while you were the cool-headed. It’s always been like that, and everyone refused to believe otherwise. After all, how can a Humanitarian go against what they usually do — helping people?

The obnoxious sound of Bulldogs’ laughter causes your smile to vanish in an instant as they approach with Reggie in front, leading them like a pack of filthy dogs as usual. Your friends stopped as well, each displaying a look of annoyance.

“What a bunch of losers sharing lil’ cupcakes,” Reggie mocks, earning snickers from his teammates.

Veronica rolled her eyes at their childishness, “Oh my god, just leave.”

“Shut up, bitch.” Reggie spat and Veronica was quick to hold her boyfriend Archie back, shaking her head to tell him it isn’t worth it. The Bulldogs laughed when the ginger sat back down, cockiness evident on their body language.

You caught Reggie eyeing the remaining cupcakes that were left on the box and quickly pulled it away before he could even reach a hand out, not noticing the way Sweet Pea was quieter than usual despite his nemesis’ arrival. “This isn’t yours, kid. Don’t even try taking one.” You sternly scolded, moving off of Sweet Pea’s lap to sit beside him closer to Reggie.

“Don’t fucking call me kid, I ain’t one.” The jock hissed, sharply glaring at you.

“Then quit acting like one.” You retort without missing a beat.

Letting out a scoff, Reggie’s lips twist up in a sneer. “At least I’m not acting like a pathetic little fag hanging out with other fags.”

“Reginald!” Cheryl shouts with disbelief, standing up abruptly at the same time Sweet Pea slammed his fist on the table while shooting Reggie a death glare. You quickly hold his bicep to calm him down, not wanting him to get in trouble. Everyone held unpleasant looks towards the nasty slur he just uttered, disgusted by his nerve.

“Fucking asshole,” Toni spat distastefully.

The Bulldogs laughed her off to themselves like a bunch of hyenas before Reggie’s gaze fell on Sweet Pea that didn’t seem to let his fist talk this time, a knowing smirk crossing his face. “What’s up, bro? You’re too quiet, we hit you too hard last time or something?”

You scowled and looked back at your boyfriend to see him glaring threateningly at Reggie, as if he was avoiding your gaze. “What is he talking about, Pea?” You question with a stern tone, then repeated it to the jock when he doesn’t answer, “What are you talking about?”

Reggie raised his brows, “You know nothing?”

“What are you talking about, Mantle.” You emphasised through gritted teeth.

Seeming amused by your slight impatience, Reggie tilts his head and mockingly chuckles under his breath. “Your little boyfriend here seems like he doesn’t know his place, so we taught him a lesson is all. You should put a tight leash on your dog if you don’t want dudes to jump him.”

Disbelief and anger morphed on your face, about to stand up from your seat to confront him more, only to feel Sweet Pea’s arm wrap around your torso to keep you in place. “Baby, don’t.” He whispered.

“What the hell, Reggie?” Betty gives him an incredulous look.

“Unfortunate that he didn’t fight back. Would’ve long been kicked out and thrown in jail if he did.” Reggie snickered along with his teammates before walking away, flipping the box of cupcakes in the process.

You glared after them with a clenched jaw and turned to Sweet Pea, your bright eyes piercing right through him that forced him to make eye contact with you despite his urge to avoid it. “Where are you hurt?” Your tone soft yet an edge to it, a suppressed anger only noticeable by Sweet Pea.

“I’m fine,” He tries to reassure you, turning to continue with his lunch.

“No, he said they jumped you.” You shake your head sternly and grabbed his shoulder to forcefully turn his body back, freezing when he yelped in pain and flinched. Sweet Pea swallowed, cursing himself internally for proving you right on accident, and looked up at you slowly. Your face was unreadable, which brought more nervousness on him.

Everyone watched as Sweet Pea sighs defeatedly and pull down his shirt to reveal the large bruises on his collarbone, your eyes widening and getting closer to inspect if it was shattered. Luckily it didn’t seem so, but your guts told you this wasn’t the only injury he got. Glancing up at Sweet Pea, you pulled up his shirt as gently as possible. Your breath hitched; a large, purple and yellow bruises littering his ribs and stomach.

“Motherfucker,” Fangs cursed in anger as rage filled him, Toni, and Jughead— however, before anyone could react, a chair loudly slammed against the floor from the sheer force of someone abruptly standing up.

A figure was sprinting towards Reggie in a flash, forcefully turning him around by the jacket before a strong fist collided with his face and he was tackled down to the floor. Gasps erupted all over the place as everyone in the cafeteria stood up in shock upon realising it was you, fearfulness appearing on their faces when you began punching him repeatedly without remorse.

Trapping Reggie under your body, you pulled him by his jacket only to punch him square on the jaw and slam his head on the concrete floor, pained noises leaving his mouth as he attempted to protect his head and face. Two Bulldogs scrambling closer to help Reggie while one of the others rushed off to call the Principal, you grabbed the arm of the guy who tried pulling you off of their leader and twisted it before kneeing his gut, making him fall to the floor on his knees. You used it as your opportunity to pull his arm to his back and dislocate him, a scream erupting from his mouth. The other guy swings his fist in your direction, which you dodged and kicked him towards a table, quickly grabbing his head to repeatedly slam his face on the hard surface.

Speechless was an understatement to describe what they felt witnessing the horrors of your rage with some trembling, some covering their eyes, and some unable to look away.

All you saw was red.

There’s nothing in your mind but to hurt the people that hurt the love of your life, dark and bloodthirsty eyes glinting dangerously as you look at Reggie’s bloodied state again. Blood pooled beneath his head as he coughed from the pain on his abdomen and head.

No one could recognise you — the gentle and soft atmosphere you usually surrounded yourself with being replaced by cold and lethal one. Rage is supposed to be foreign for someone as nice as you, but seemed fitting in this moment, as if you’ve been building it up within yourself until it exploded. The only ever push you needed was Sweet Pea being hurt to take everything out.

You were about to walk up to Reggie again before the sound of Sweet Pea’s voice calling your name reached you through the blood boiling in your head, and you stopped. Principal Weatherbee hurriedly rushed to the commotion, a look of terror spreading across his face after seeing you standing over Reggie’s beaten up state.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Weatherbee shouts, kneeling beside Reggie, who had passed out from the pain and shock.

Sweet Pea was the only one brave and courageous enough to approach you without hesitation, calling your name first to catch your attention as he gently pulled you by your forearm. “Stop, baby. That’s enough,” He whispered.

You stared Weatherbee down with calm rage and coldness that made fear dance across his face. “You teach your students to fight square and fair if they don’t want any more worse than this,” You muttered loud enough for him to hear, voice emotionless and non-remorseful.

Shifting your glare to the remaining Bulldogs that were frozen in their spot, they flinched when you stepped forward. “Gang up on my boyfriend again and I’ll fucking kill every single one of you,” You threatened with a murderous tone which told the graveness of it, making them nod their heads vigorously and care for their leader.

Weatherbee instructed them to bring Reggie and the two injured Bulldogs to the infirmary, then looked back at you with disbelief still on his expression. “Do you know what you have done? You could get expelled.”

“You think I care?” You challenged him, tilting your head. “They should’ve been expelled for what they did to Sweet Pea, but it wouldn’t matter because he’s a Southside Serpent, right? So I did exactly what they did to make them feel what it’s like, except it was just me alone. It’s a fair fight, Mr. Weatherbee. I don’t think I should be punished for making things equal between us.” You smiled, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly before rolling your eyes and walking away with Sweet Pea’s hand in yours.

Sweet Pea pulled you down to sit with him and began inspecting your bloody, busted knuckles. You look up to see not only your friends but everyone else staring, causing you to scowl. “What?” You snarled and they all looked away in fear.

Sweet Pea shushes you with a look as you returned your gaze on him, flashing him an innocent smile. Rolling his eyes with a shake of his head, he takes out a midnight blue handkerchief from his jacket pocket to gently wipe off the blood from your knuckles. “You’re lucky you didn’t break any bones on your fist.”

You chuckled, “Babe, I literally learn martial arts. And they were the ones who got their bones broken.”

“Still, shouldn’t have done that.” He replied. “Let’s go to the infirmary, you need this disinfected.”

“If you want me to actually end up killing Reginald Mantle, then I’m down.” You smirked, earning a disapproving look from him.

Sweet Pea takes your glasses that you had removed before the fight with the Bulldogs and gently places it on the bridge of your nose, adjusting it so you’ll be able to see properly. “Babe, I really don’t think you should. I love you for it, I’ll fucking watch you beat the shit out of him over again, but it wouldn’t be good news for your family business if rumours spread you have violent tendencies.” He gave you a pointed look.

You scrunched your nose, “Only when someone messes with my Sweet Pea.”

“Being violent’s my job, baby.” He chuckles.

“Not really,” You pushed up your glasses with the tip of your middle finger before leaning on the table on your elbow. “Being constantly nice isn’t my job, sweetheart. I can’t really show humanity to someone who hurts you, and I promise this wouldn’t be the last time you’ll see me take revenge for you.”

Sweet Pea sighed.

He doesn’t want your reputation to be tainted; being the bad guy is not unfamiliar for him and he was going to keep it that way if it meant nobody thought of you negatively. You’ve worked hard to build trust among the community and proved yourself a kind and helping soul, Sweet Pea didn’t want people’s perspective of you to change. But it’s actually true how people misunderstood you; all you have is basic human decency, something which some people lack, you weren’t the divine only-do-good they perceived you to be.

You’re still human despite being more helpful and nice than average, so you obviously have imperfections — that is, not being able to contain your anger when the one you love is unfairly treated. You were intelligent, but sometimes, your fists speak for yourself when assholes tests your patience too many times. Sweet Pea knew that and always tried his best to prevent you from losing your temper, although it couldn’t be helped in this case.

“You were pretty badass there, dude.” Jughead remarks after seeing you’ve calmed down, getting over the initiate shock.

Fangs agreed, “Yeah, it was dope. We didn’t know you could fight.”

“And break bones.” Kevin added, astonished.

“Fucking lit,” Toni chimes in with a box of emergency kit in her hand that she placed on the table. You raised your brows, wondering when she got out the cafeteria to get it, but smiled nonetheless.

“But wait, you said you learn martial arts.” Archie spoke next with curiosity in his expression. “Where do you learn it? Since when?”

You chuckle at their excitement and eagerness, feeling happy for the lack of judgment. Sweet Pea starts tending to your busted knuckles as you reply to the ginger head, “My father’s a professional. He’s been training me and other kids who wants to learn self defence techniques. It’s part of the business.”

“So, you’ve always known how to beat up people but never did it before?” Fangs asked.

“Yeah,” You shrug. “It’s unnecessary to result to violence all the time. No one tested my patience as far as Mantle did, he really deserved that to shut up for once. It’s absolutely effective to people who can’t mind their own damn business.” Grinning almost childishly, the gang chuckles at your new side while Sweet Pea, unamused, presses the cotton ball a little too hard on your injury causing a hiss to erupt from your mouth.

He had a glare in his eyes. “Don’t fucking do that again, you’ll get hurt. You know those scumbags would get back at you.”

Your face softened at the concerned look in his eyes, how the hands that treats you trembled slightly. “Darling,” You softly called and intertwined your fingers with his. “You know I had to. They can’t gang up on you like that, it’s not right. I couldn’t see you hurt and just let it slide.”

Sweet Pea nibbled on his lower lip nervously, still a little upset.

“I know you’re worried about my reputation and all, but I’m your boyfriend, Sweets. You come first before that.” You ruffled his hair affectionately with your uninjured hand and smiled. “I don’t care about what other people think of me, I’m still going to defend you.”

Sweet Pea stared into your sincere eyes before sighing in defeat, looking down at your injured knuckles. “Fine. But promise me you wouldn’t take any hits, I fucking hate seeing you injured.”

You chuckled at the sternness in his voice and saluted jokingly, “Copy that, boss. That can be arranged.” He rolled his eyes with a smile.

Betty raised her brows, “Okay… Has this ever happened before?” Gesturing to you.

“Uh… kind of?” You grimaced, scratching your head, as everyone gave you a questioning look. “I didn’t really beat up anyone at that time, but I might have… punched a hole through the wall.”

They widened their eyes in surprise as Cheryl drops her jaw, “The science classroom!”

You winced and nodded.

Toni laughs with a shake of her head, somehow finding the situation funny. “Who knew the nicest boy had the beast within him?” She jokes. “I’m glad to see this more human side of you. You were always so nice it was almost unsettling.”

Smiling at her, you nodded in acknowledgement. That’s a comment you always heard from people, that you were unnatural for being too kind. You were taught since childhood how to be a decent human being but to never let anyone take advantage of you, so you were just balancing it out — no one ever saw this side of yours before because they weren’t being unreasonable. You only lose your patience when pushed hard enough.

You looked at Sweet Pea to see him already getting back on treating your wound, dabbing the cotton ball gently on the cuts, making you admire his every features. It was adorable how he cared for your reputation. Made you want to make out with him right then and there, but it wasn’t appropriate for a dining place.

Everyone looks at Toni when your attention focused on Sweet Pea, shaking their heads slightly. Not certain if they were glad or scared to learn new things about you that’s been unknown for a long time.

“You don’t have to worry,” Your boyfriend speaks up without averting his gaze. “He’s not easy to piss off unless you push the wrong buttons all at once.”

“Sweet Pea’s the wrong button,” You immediately added with a grin that resembled a Golden Retriever, except it seems actually threatening. “Couldn’t care less about my haters.”

Of course, none of them disagreed to that.

The next day, Reggie walks in with his tail tucked between his legs after seeing you leaned back on your locker with Sweet Pea and the entire gang. Your mouth chewing on a bubblegum, that stupid glasses of yours resting on the bridge of your nose as usual with an outfit that reminds everyone of an elite nerd student.

Bruises and cuts littered around Reggie’s face with a prominent black eye, busted lip and swollen cheek. His steps slow to not add pressure on his injured leg and bruised torso. The students stared at him as if he was something else, probably gossiping among themselves about how he’s the one who caused the nicest boy in Riverdale seem like a completely different person.

He scoffs. You’re not the nicest boy at all.

You can’t hold that title anymore after the incident, but Reggie knew he didn’t have the guts to mock you about it when your presence alone made him cower and feel small.

As he carefully walked through the hallway, your eyes finally catches his figure and darkens almost in an instant, bright expression dropping to a blank look. Your friends were quick to become nervous seeing your almost deadly look, although Sweet Pea found it fun and amusing. Reggie looked at you as he stopped, afraid that if he walked past you’re just going to swing at him.

You cocked your head slightly, eyes burning deep into his soul as you stared at him from head to toe and circled around him like a predator watching its prey. Reggie felt uneasiness cloud his chest. He would’ve never done something like that if he knew the consequences to it.

Bumping on his shoulder that made him hiss in slight pain due to the injury on his shoulder, you returned to your place and sneered. “Where did the big bad dog go? He afraid of the faggot now or somethin’?” You laughed mockingly.

Reggie licked his lips nervously, not meeting your gaze.

You leaned your head down to forcefully look at him in the eye, grinning at the fear there. “All of this is merely a warning, Mantle. You go after my boyfriend like that again and I promise it’ll be much worse.”

Gulping, he nods his head vigorously and scrambles away when you finally decided to let him go.

Sweet Pea snickers under his breath after Reggie’s gone, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “Really cool, baby. He was so fucking scared!” Smirking smugly at his laughter, you wrapped an arm back around his waist securely.

“After what happened, you probably can’t hold the nicest guy reputation anymore.” Archie remarked which causes you to laugh in agreement.

“Yeah. Besides, I don’t even know who gave me that nickname.”

“For a quick information, it was Chuck and he actually did it to mock you but it backfired.” Cheryl stated and everyone hums, finding it makes sense.

You feel a little bit glad for lashing out, knowing not everyone will perceive you as this perfectly nice guy who could do no wrong. Having that kind of expectations are truly heavy on your shoulders when you’re not even half of what they expect. Your kindness isn’t infinity nor unconditional; it wears off like any human beings, you didn’t know why people thought otherwise when it came to you. It’s impossible to keep being nice when some assholes just ganged up on your boyfriend who’s never done anything wrong.

Sweet Pea’s always been precious to you. He’s the love of your life that brightens up your day, a ray of sunshine even though he’s got anger issues and you would do anything to prevent that brightness from wearing off. Now they know not to mess with him if they don’t want to get their asses beaten.

“Hey, Sweets?”

He hummed, turning to you. “Yeah?”

You peck his lips and smile, “I love you.”

Sweet Pea smiled back, pecking your cheek. “Love you too, baby.”

Beware of the nicest guy; no one’s ever allowed to hurt your boyfriend without the consequences of getting your fist on their face.

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missmarveledsblog · 1 month ago

Text

Flumpy (Jake seresin x reader ) part 13 18+

summary : when mav can't make it to her birthing class well she has four partners in stead proving once more she lucked out when she came to san diego . jake finally home from deployment and he can't believe how he manage to get most beautiful woman to be his .

warning : fluffy , goofy smutty fun slight insecurity this is an 18+ part so minor do not even peek , grammatical errors and spelling mistakes oral (f! receiving) , pregnancy sex , p in v soft sensual sex , slight choking like barely

previous part

She could see it on calendar clear as anything only two more weeks til her man was home being able to have him there was something she was truly counting the seconds for . one part of her just wanted to hug and cuddle and just have him by her side and well the other part wanted to stay in bed and never leave . thing she never expected to rise as much as it did was her sex drive it was to point she felt it was almost driving her insane. Her toy never been recharged as much and one stage she honestly thought maybe she was turning into a nymphomaniac . the bump was truly bumping . the swell of her belly was something she couldn’t get over she would rub the coco butter over her stretched skin . some days loving it other day not so much especially when javy called her a tiger and spent two hours apologizing when she cried over it . To say it wasn't either of the two's finest moments to say the least . she did make a friend though she and lila met up more even after the class getting decaf coffee and reminiscing of times when they could do stuff . Mav unexpectedly Was popular In the birthing classes which honestly was surprising although both were slightly traumatized after seeing one of the women's Home births It was probably honestly the first time he’d seen his daughter so speechless for a what seemed to be well that hole dau til they reach hard Deck And penny asked how it went she only looked Down at her own parts and shuddered .

She went into work happy a smile wide on her face As she walked Into the hangar luke had big smile on his face completing and eagerly waiting to show her what progress . task she had given him knowing it will be better to visually learn head she was right . each component put together almost perfectly and slight pride of being the teacher in situation she was even more happier. The guys even cheered him on making the smile big and dopey .

“ hey mini mitchell look at you being an excellent teacher” fanboy cheered.

“ you know that will only work til i get married “ she mused .

“ well i can call you jekyll and hyde cause that will only last til the pregnancy is over” he shot back .

“ you know i can make it look like an accident but i love your grandmother too much “ her eyes narrowed.

“ his grandma?”

“ i made her my abuela’s churros and i made her chili she used to make so now she loves my abuela and her food “ mickey rolled his eyes . “ even though i made it” he added .

“ you nearly burned own the kitchen last cooking night and your out here making chili and shit “ javy chuckled .

“ well you never mess up abuela garcia’s food “ he winced .

She stood in like resting the tray on her stomach another added bonus to the pregnancy thing she found as she was able to hold the tray of food thanks to bumpy although she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of well actually liking the nickname . lunch and rest of the day going great she was ready to face the snobby women of her birthing class least her dad would keep them distracted . some where ok but well other still bitches who looked their noses down at her hell she was half tempted to rent a limo and show them what was what . she still wore jakes shirt and shorts knowing in it way was bringing him to the class . she walked in the door waving to them and yet they look like she was straggler for the street ready to steal their overpriced mats and water bottle til she felt the ding her of her phone pulling it out she seen her dads text .

“ meeting can’t make it sorry kiddo x”

“ oh this is going to be great “ she huffed already texting into the groupchat to get the chili ready . walking over to a tired lila and luke she felt so stupid standing alone .

“ weres your dad?” luke asked.

“ meeting stupid navy “ she grumbled sitting ignoring the others that where watching her .

“ that’s what the chili text was for “ he nodded already putting the pieces together as he pulled his own phone out.

“ is everyone ready “ the teacher called and everyone cheered .

It was fifteen minutes in and it was already partner time so they could go through the exercise and here she was the lone loser as they snickered as the teacher headed her way and shit it was highschool all over again . til the door swung open and she seen the four guys she spent two month and two weeks with and once again they came to her rescue.

“ sorry we’re late the building around her look the same” javy winked as he walked over .

“ can i help you gentlemen … with anything” her teacher almost drooled at the sight of her new found brothers.

“ we’re here with our little sister ma’am .. aint that right “ bob smiled.

“ the adorable one is right “ she smiled maybe even tried to keep the tears at bay .

“ well then please be seated with … your sister?” she chuckled nervously almost tripping when she walked back to the top of the class.

“ beat that michelle i got four helper and you just have your husband” she stuck her tongue out at one of women.

Yeah suck it” fanboy joined in .

“ thanks for letting us know” javy whispered to luke.

“ my favourite mentor was needed it “ he smirked.

“ A+ kid “she cheered as everyone looked at her . “ sorry continue please” .

She couldn’t image it if she was told this was going to be her life well she wouldn’t have believed them . amazing friends that would spend their afternoon in a birthing class so she wasn’t alone , matter of fact they done beyond helping her making sure she was ok , she wasn’t alone even though it was hard missing jake they made it easier to deal with knowing she was held up by friends no by brothers that constantly proved she hit the jackpot coming to san diego .

He wanted to go home , he wanted his girl , his flumpy the one he missed sleeping beside every night , the one he ate nearly every meal . hell he was even looking forward to meeting peanut and anyother animal she taking in if she did take anymore in . honestly it could be a full blown zoo and he’d be happy once she was . he also wanted to be there for her 6 month pregnant and he was barely there . granted the she found out at ten weeks so those times weren’t his fault and of course when he does find out he’s on ship for three months. He seen what she was like everytime he seen her and the swell of her stomach on the screen or in the care packages she would send those honestly drove him wild . she was most beautiful woman even in rough shape from when was thrown off her bike and now pregnant round with his child . he’d fuck his own fist picturing her under him , kissing down her …

“ hey man your drooling” rooster called snapping jake seresin of the sinful sound of her moaning out of his head.

“ ain’t drooling god this thing is taking forever” he huffed the day he was waiting for the one he was going to be able to see his girl the day he was coming home .

“ he’s right although i think this deployment sucked more with her pregnant “ nat whined .

“ and we al have partners waiting … hey look at us being adults “ rooster chuckled .

“ who would of thought the hard deck hound dog would be settled like this “ nat teased.

“ yeah even i didn’t see that coming but hell if i had to wait decade celibate for someone like y/n shit i would” jake shook his head.

“ we’ve just one more hour and we’ll be home hell i can’t wait to see her myself “ rooster chuckled .

She was excited checking over the dress she wore something similar to the one she wore the first time she ever seen jake although he did say shit she hated him for but didn’t last long . she checked over her make up and hair bunch of times too . saying hello to lila who was the same nervous wreck as she was . she stood with ruby and kyle the three waiting for their partners they missed dearly . ruby took her first deployment like a champ although she did work through most of it . kyle understood what it was like doing a couple himself but he was like a chid on christmas waiting for nat . then she looked down at her phone seeing jake message saying they would be their soon and she saw the boat coming it made her heart swell and thankful for the invention of waterproof makeup which would be put to the test today in more ways than one if she had her way . it was almost agonizing waiting for the boat to dock and when it did she moved through the crowd completely excitedly to see him . three months apart felt forever as she watched each man and woman passing by.

“ hey flumpy” was all she heard looking up her cheeks felt like they would spilt with how wide they stretched their he stood looking like sin at sea . fuck he looked bigger and his hair grown out it made her mouth water and go dry all at once as she rushed through more of the grounds before crashing into his arms . those muscle arms bigger and yet warmer as he lift her in his arms as she cried kissing every part of his face . he barely put her down when they reached the truck instead placing her on the hood kissing her tenderly barely even taking in the sight of her just to have her in his arms and when he did stand back his eyes looking down at the bump , the swell of her stomach he filled her it had a lump forming in his throat when he leaned down kissing the clothed skin .

“ my babies” he smiled looking up his own tears forming in his eyes . god how was he so lucky looking at the woman he fell so hard for and his future child still baking away . “ my beautiful girl “ he almost growled attaching his lips to his and groan falling from his lips as a whine fell from hers.

“ hey your in public “ a voice coughed out as they pulled back .

“Roo” she squealed hoping down hugging him tightly for him to pull her back .

“ my little sister all knocked up “ he sniffled .

“ jesus took that long for it to sink in “ she giggled.

“ no it just more real” he hugged her again before jake pulled her back only for another to pull her from his hands .

“ oh my hotstuff “ nat hugged her tightly once again jake pulling her to his side hand rubbing up and down her side before going straight to her stomach.

She stood trying to think straight , trying to listening to her friends wondering how to even function and yet she felt like her brain was turning to complete mush and then she used her condition to her advantage as she began yawning and moving her legs criss cross.

“ hey you ok “ jake asked softly .

“ tired and need to pee and i’m hungry “ she said softly.

“ trust me lets let her get home and rest “ kyle chuckled pulling nat away .

“ i will be home in afternoon … tomorrow “ rooster called as ruby pulled him away and jake was opening door of car for her putting the belt on her yet he caught it the way her legs clenched and the look in her eyes .

“ oh you little tease “ he groaned kissing her lips softly only for her to whine when he pulled back.

“ peanut is having a sleepover with my dad so you will meet him tomorrow “ she was almost breathless looking over the man she loved so much and also wanted to tear apart in one go.

“ good i’m excited to meet him but i’m more excited have you all to myself” he winked kissing her cheek before turning the key in the ignition .

One thing she loved and hate about jake was well he was a tease . his hand on her knee moving up and down as she was sure she would soak through the chair with the building need . the way her breathe hitched when she felt his hand slipping further up her leg under her dress . she was wearing a new set of lingerie wondering if he would like it then she was thinking of when she saw herself in the mirror her body was changed so much in the three months she was gone , more stretch marks then what she had before things were bigger before he left and the insecurity was creepy in like it was having a battle between the need for him and the need to hide herself from him . she watched the one story home as jake told her to wait before he opened the door , unbuckling the the belt and lifting her like it was nothing shouting a hello and good bye to mrs wilson before shutting the door . he carried her to the sofa sitting on the chair and holding her in his lap. Lips crashing to hers , her hands moving to through the longer hair on his head her hands giving it a little tug eliciting a moan spilling from his lips making her wetter than she thought she could be and yet that insecurity that biting away making her movement slowing down and tears slipping down her check .

“ hey baby whats wrong” he pulled back his eyes looking up in concern at sudden shift.

“ i’m sorry i’m not the same as i was before and if it too much i understand if you don’t wanna” she sniffled .

“ darling i am so lost right now” .

“ i got so fat and my body” she whispered afraid of speaking louder .

“ well for one your body is beautiful anyway so hush that …. Can i “ he asked pulling at the hem of her dress to which she hesitantly nodded. She lifted her arms as it fell to the floor he took it all in hell he must of died and went to heaven it was the only way he could explain it . “ this is a work of art and look at this baby is it new” he asked pulling the straps of her bra the red lace the cups that barely covered anything.

“ i got it during the week” she shyly nodded.

“ good god look at you look at my beautiful girl , my future wife and mother to my baby god maybe i should keep you like this so full of my child , these tits fuck look at them “ his hands rising up her sides before he cup her breasts a soft whimper spilling from her lips as she felt his fingers pinching and teasing the clothed nipples making her hips buck and her back arch . “ so sensitive my poor baby must of been hard huh?” he pinched her nipple once more before he pulled the material from her body completely . she crashed her lips against his needed to fell him closer , almost crushed against her as he moved putting her laying on the sofa kissing down her jaw , down her neck licking and nipping the skin god she was even more responsive to his touch , whining and then he was begging him to do something touch her . light kisses against the tops of her breasts til she felt the swirl of his tongue on twirling around the nipple , sucking and biting that had her squirming then he was going lower kissing the stretch skin on her stomach loving the scent of the coco butter hitting his nose . kissing along the top of the red lacey panties she looked like a present all wrapped up for him and him alone . she barely register the sound of material being ripped from her body not when the air hit her soaked folds.

“ she is crying for me huh ? oh my poor baby look at mess you made” he cooed finger teasing up and down her soaked pussy.

“ need you jake please .. oh fuckkk “ she cried feeling the heat of his tongue gliding up and teasing hitting her clit before doing it again and again. Already she was brainless her hand shoot to his head , hips bucking chasing his tongue as she cried for him not to stop . jake could eat pussy it should of been a crime to with how good he could make her a puddle . all her focus was all on him and how he was making her feel to point every thought in her head insecurities and all gone . she could feel it tighten and wind up she could swear pulled apart til it was all to much her back arching feeling his lips wrapping around her clit as her orgasim crashed and snapped . her legs clamping around his head as she almost screamed his name . her thighs clamped on his head and yet he didn’t care lapping up her realized like it was the source of life on his tongue.

“ damn you i’d rather spend three months in between these legs hell my meal here are better” he winked wiping her slick from his face and yet she was looking at him pupil completely blown and blissed smile that hell more hunger.

“ my turn” she giggled sitting up only for him to grab her neck making her gulp and even more turned on as he leaned down .

“ Darling you taste all you want later but now i need to bury my cock in this pussy” he almost growled as he pushed her laying down again his hand still on her throat and the dark irises so blown her eyes almost looked black . heaven it was alway heaven when he pushed his cock into her awaiting cunt . her velvet walls stretching and clingying to him in a big to never let him go , filling her to a point of that satisfying fullness she never no one but jake could provide . the hand the was around her throat slipping around the back pulling her up . his movement slow at first savouring the feeling of being home . hearing the cries, moans and whimpers that feel from her mouth and straight to his ears how he went three months without this was beyond him . taking in how her now even bigger tits bounced with each stroke , how his movements got faster and faster the hand hold her hips sliping down as he began massaging her clit making her almost making her brainless as she began chanting his name like it was only word she knew . the way she almost explode and her walls clenching and pulsating around his length to point all that could be heard was skin slapping and moans and groans fill throughtout the room . she felt it the way his strokes began to get sloppy the way she could fell , anticipated it and the loud groan of her name as he filled her up and his head on her chest both sweating painting messes over the sofa.

“ welcome home “ she croaked out her throat raw from how he had her screaming in pleasure.

“ i ain’t leaving it again” he sighed happily lifting up to kiss her softly pulling out he stood lifting her off the sofa .

“ what , were we going “ she yawned.

“ shower and bed gonna need to get some rest cause we got a lot of making up to do “ he chuckled spanking her bottom making her yelp as she kissed him on their short trip to the bathroom .

part 14

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @sarah-bear706318 @emma8895eb @katiemcrae @eleventhdoctorsangel

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skylarsblue · 2 years ago

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this isn’t really a request or anythin’, just a thought. 141 havin to deal with a southern team member who only gets progressively more accented the more they get mad.

100% projecting here

pretty unaccented, American, whatever —> ✨ anger ✨ —> Memphis called they want their “oo-ol” back (translation: oil).

i have no idea if they’d be annoyed, charmed, or just confused.

✦141 + Los Vaqueros With A Southern!Teammate✦

(My first C.o.D request and it's for pEOPLE LIKE MEEEE, southern traassh! This my shit. Fair warning, I've never played one of these games cause I don't have a console, so if they're ooc, please tell me how I can improve writing them!)

✦Random headcanons, Southern slang, GN!Reader, Race neutral as well but American, implied to be Oklahoma/Texas style southern, aggressive cursing because I have the mouth of a sailor, a bit of Google Translated Spanish(forgive me), Rudy doesn't have a color cause I ran out I'm so sorry precious boy✦

✧Simon Riley✧

He's not real fond of Americans, admittedly. He's got a little voice in the back of his head that automatically associates Americans with betrayal, but he'll keep quiet.

He cringes at your accent at first. He's not fond of Americans, even less so of most American accents. It's a very thick drawl and after being in the team for a while, he'll tease you about it, telling you to "Speak English" like he does with Soap.

He shuts up when you bring up his Manchester accent being illegible sometimes. It's all in good fun though!

After proving you're trustworthy, he'll basically call you his "special American", to show you're an exception. He will never stop poking fun at you though, just as you do to him. Particularly when you say something intensely American.

"Look at her ass, out here pitchin' a bitch fit with a tail on it." "...What in the hell is that even supposed to mean?"

He'll give you one thing, you treat beef well, which he appreciates. Given he used to be a butcher's apprentice. Americans from the southern states know how to make a hamburger and we know how to cook a steak, that's like...the one thing we can brag about.

If you're like me and you dunk on your own country, he thinks those moments are really funny. Especially when you sound so American.

He probably enjoys you being angry the most. He loves it so much, he thinks it's extremely entertaining. Especially if you're a more small, non-intimidating person on the surface.

"Fuck off! Out here makin' a damn mess of the place, runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off, wrecking my shit! I outta whoop yer ass!" "Should we step in?" "No no, let it go on a little longer..."

Probably tries to make your call sign something heavily American stereotypical, in a funny way. (ie. Bald Eagle, Stars(JILL!), Shotgun, etc.)

A bit hypocritical but if you have a farm with cows on it, he doesn't really wanna see them. His first thought his how to butcher them from years of training, and if they're not butcher cows, he feels kinda bad for thinking it.

Congrats! You're the only American Simon likes, aside from maybe Alex but I don't know for sure.

✧Johnny MacTavish✧

Laughs when you first speak. He apologizes but like, he laughs at you, I'm sorry.

Definitely asks if you have a cowboy hat, and he will lose his fucking mind if you do. The more cowboy shit you own the more he's entertained, especially if you wear them around base/on field.

He understands you super well but no one understands how or why. Johnny explains that it's just because he's good with accents. He'll hear weird euphemisms and, though it may take a second, 9 times out of 10 he'll get it.

"Fucker's so cheap I bet he pinches quarters til they scream." "What?! What does that mean!?" "Means he's a penny pincher! He's cheap. C'mon, that one was obvious, keep up, yeah?"

If you're a woman/female leaning, he'll call you cowgirl. If you're male/male leaning, you get the nickname cowboy. Non-binary/Genderfluid/Etc.? He calls you partner, and he'll always say it with a shitty imitation of your accent.

Asks you a buncha questions about American-Southern stereotypes to see if they're true. If they are, he gets really giggly about it.

If they ever have a mission in America, he'll insist you lead them everywhere. He likes seeing how you interact with people, especially if you're in a big city where some nutsos are. This man would have a blast watching you in a Waffle House. It's the only time he likes seeing you yell in public, thinks it's hilarious.

If you have any farm experience he's gotta see it. He needs to. I don't care if the farm is your great grandpa's and you haven't been there in a decade, you better take him to see the cows and tractors right now, immediately. Especially if there are chickens. He loves chickens.

He makes fun of your accent but he thinks it's really hot sometimes and he's very annoyed at himself for it. Particularly when you speak softly, trying to console/comfort him, slipping in a typical southern pet name.

"You alright there, sugar? Took quite a hit there. You need anythin', sweetheart?" "...I uh, uhm, ahem. N-no, no I'm alright." "Are ya sure, sweetpea? Your face is goin' redder than a tomato."" NO, I'M GOOD."

Manages to get the entire team to call you a southern callsign, whether you like it or not. He'll force it to stick. Most are animal-based too. (Cowboy/Cowgirl, Chick/Rooster, Bull/Heffer, Big Tex, etc.)

Your accent grows on him significantly. While he thinks you're very sexy when you're angry, he's really affected when you're soft and sweet. (bonus note; if you're faux sweet when you're mad? The whole "Oh...bless your heart" type thing? He's prolly gonna pop a boner, not gonna lie.)

✧John Price✧

He's not American but there are a lot of American things he likes, admittedly. Specifically, old western stuff, horses, ranches, etc. That whole aesthetic is something he's always enjoyed. He won't say it, but he has a particular fondness for your accent when he first hears it.

Doesn't understand you when your accent gets super thick but he thinks it's entertaining nevertheless. Unlike Ghost or Soap, he doesn't comment on it, because he doesn't think he has room to talk. Maybe he'd do it once and then you'd throw it back at him and he'd realize that...yeah he has no room to talk.

He's a calm individual but he will yell when necessary. But, what he finds admirable is when you jump in and yell for him. Like you can read his mind and he can save his throat, watching the people who were pissing him off jump back at thick southern curses being yelled at them.

"I outta jerk a damn knot in your fuckin' tail, ya fuckin' dumbass! Didn't ya momma ever teach you respect?! You ain't ever gonna talk to my damn captain like that again or I'll skin yer fuckin' hide!" "Ahem, thank you, sergeant, that's enough."

Buys you a cowboy hat if you don't already have one, for sure. Whether you take it as a genuine gift or you take it as a light jab at your roots, he'll get a lil' dopey smile if you decide to wear it. Gaz definitely makes fun of you two. Soap points out that Gaz also wears a hat religiously and he & Ghost start callin' you the hat trio.

Man melts at southern-drawl-spoken pet names. He truly does. Much like Soap, there's something about it that makes the tension leaves his body, though he's not really sure why.

"You alright there, Cap? You're lookin' bout ready to drop..." "I'm alright soldier, just need to finish this." "Captain, it'll be there in the mornin'. How bout a nap instead, huh? You can't go workin' yourself to the bone, hun. It ain't healthy."" ...oh alright, just for a bit though." "Sure, sugarcube, just long enough to have some tea."

He'll probably pick up on a few pet names and call you them. Whether you wanna take it as platonic or not, it's really just a sweet gesture that he wants to return. Pet names are kinda just...a staple of southern slang. It's part of the accent that he really enjoys, therefore he wants to return it.

If he ends up helping you with a call sign, it's going to be a really sweet & nice one. Or perhaps something that's from an old western he's seen. Probably based on something you've said before. (Sugarcube, Lasso, Hun/Hunny.) Bonus points if you get a super sweet name that doesn't match your stature, he thinks it's funny if it throws people off.

Piggybacking off the last one, I think it'd be real funny if your call name was "Sugarcube" and you're like...a 6'0"+ buff dude with a deep voice. That shit would be funny. Anyway!

If you own/live on a ranch or farm in your off time, he'll feel honored if you invite him to see it. Don't worry, he won't laze around and just appreciate the cute animals. (Looking at you Soap) He's got a little bit of experience with cows & horses, so he'll do his best to help you move the hay and such. Don't let him drive a tractor though, it's one of the few things he just can't do.

John doesn't play favorites, he's fair and precise to his entire team. But...off the field? ...you might get a little favoritism, he's got a weakness for bein' sweettalked through southern drawl. Don't let that go to your head though!

✧Kyle Garrick✧

Kyle doesn't care too much, he thinks every country has shitty stuff and cool stuff. He's a pretty big believer in silver linings. While America is far from his favorite country, and he knows the common trope of uh...less than tolerant people from the south, that doesn't affect how he sees you at all.

He does snicker at your accent sometimes, but only when you say something really aggressively southern. Especially making up random southern phrases that he doesn't understand at all. He finds it endearing.

"We just gotta haul ass and go tear shit up, run through like a buncha Tasmanian devils, right?" "...I understood...some of those words. Uh, sure, right." "We need to move our asses and fuck shit up." "Ah, okay. Could've just said that, but alright."

Thinks you're kinda scary when you're mad. He'll be the type to try and calm you down, but he understands if it's someone who deserves it. Not that he doesn't find your drawl fun to listen too, especially if someone was being an ass, but he doesn't like seeing you upset.

If the person you're yelling at was being a real big ass, he'll let you yell for a little, but step in. However, if you're doing condescending rage? Oh, go for it, do it all you want. He thinks it's hilarious.

Finds it particularly sweet if you're angry on the teams/his behalf. He can fight his own battles but he thinks it's a big sign of trust, friendship, etc. that you feel the need to defend him.

"Bless your heart, your brain ain't firing off on all cylinders is it, hun? Tsk, that's a shame..." "Excuse me?!" "You're excused, sweetpea. You're not gonna talk to my team that way, but you can turn your happy ass around and walk away. I ain't gonna have you disrespectin' the people who've been fightin' the good fight. Have a lovely day!" "How can you sound so sweet and yet so angry at the same time?" "Southern livin', sugar. Southern livin'."

Gaz is a bit of a foodie type, he likes trying cooking from any area he can go to. Southern cooking would...it'd be a new weakness for sure. A lot of it is unhealthy, yes, but he doesn't give a shit. It tastes good. Sometimes he thinks American food is an absolute sin and a disgrace, and he'll state it as such. Usually, it's stuff you agree on. Like bacon-covered donuts or fried butter. That shit's egregious. But things like southern-style chicken or rib-eye on a grill? You're gonna make him swoon with them roasted vegetables. Cooking for him is a surefire way to make you an unapologetic favorite in his book.

He won't say anything at the little jokes that people jab at you for your accent, but he will tell someone off if they say something that's clearly not funny and upsets you. Like trying to imply you're stupid because you come from Texas. (Speaking from personal experience) He thinks it's such a dumb thing to give someone shit over and he won't hesitate to say they're an idiot for trying to use it against you.

Hates sweet tea, I'm sorry. It's just tea but he can't stand it. He'll drink the unsweetened tea you make, but he'll make a dramatic face if he mixes them up. Something that you always laugh at.

He's great at driving basically any vehicle. Helicopters to mini coopers. He's never controlled a tractor before, but if you sit him in one and tell him the levers, it'll take him like...three minutes to get it down perfectly. Definitely gets a smug ass grin if you show you're amazed.

If he helps get you your call sign, he won't necessarily make it based on where you're from, it'll probably be based on a nickname, skill, or crucial event in your career. (Crash; you were thrown through a window, Hotshot; skill for sniping, etc.) But if he were to have one based on your southern ways? Sweet Tea, both for the fact you make it and the pet name you sometimes call him. (sweet pea)

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Like Ghost, he's not super fond of Americans. His experience with most Americans are annoying tourists and Graves, leaves a pretty bad impression. He comes across unintentionally snappy when he first meets you, but Rudy will point it out, and he'll correct himself.

You aren't the annoying people he's dealt with and he knows it's not fair to say you are. Definitely talks shit on America though, and he'll honestly give you respect if you do the same. Since he's used to the kind of Americans that think being American give them a right to treat others like shit. He hates entitlement.

If you speak Spanish, he's gonna try really hard to not laugh at how your accent affects some words, but it's really hard. He means it in kind and if you're still learning when you meet him, he's proud when he hears you doing well in comprehension and sentences. Still, sounds just a lil silly.

He loves when your accent gets thick from rage, but he his favorite thing is if you speak Spanish in a rage, with your accent on top of it. It's a combination that fills his brain with serotonin.

"Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" "Wha- Haha! What does that mean?!" "Did they say some super weird analogy?" "Si! They did!" "Yeaaah, they do that a lot."

He's notorious for having a naturally flirty personality, it's just how he's always been. Hence why not much phases him, but he does get a quite wide & genuine grin if you flirt back, making your accent extra intense. Especially with the pet names, another man who likes sweet words.

Thinks you having a southern call sign is really cute, especially if it's something your team calls you exclusively. He thinks it shows your endearment to your team. However, if your call sign is something you insist is only for friends, he'll get super giddy about being allowed to call you it.

If he were to pick? (Belle; Like southern belle whether you're fem! or not, Rodeo, and he might call you Americano- but like, in the coffee way. Like it's a sweet nickname, not just him saying your nationality)

Southern hospitality is something he is not used to. Again, bad experience with Americans. So if you explain all the various manners and nice gestures that are considered expected in your home state? He's completely confused, wondering why the Americans he's met don't keep that attitude up when they leave home.

Again, really likes it if you use southern pet names. Especially if you're trying to console him after a really tough day/mission. For some reason it really helps, like a cup of warm coffee on a cold morning.

"Aye, don't stress yourself over it, darlin'. Bad things happen that we can't control, you did everything you could and you were great at it. Don't let it eat at'cha, honey-bun." "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" "Anytime, big guy. Now, you wanna see me try and fail again to open a de la Rosa without breaking it?" "Aha! How about I show you a trick to do it instead?"

Again, like Ghost, you're his special American. Gaz calls you his emotional-support American once and he thinks it's really funny, he'll call you as such every now and then.

✧Rodolfo Parra✧

Sweet darling man. He has nothing against you being American, nothing. But...he cannot understand anything you're saying. He's doing his best but he really doesn't know. He can feel his brain frying every time you bring up something super southern, trying to understand.

He'll have to lean over to your team to ask for a translation, anyone but Soap & Price will tack on an "I think, I'm not sure" at the end of their explanation. If he hears you use a phrase more than once, he'll add it to a little list of notes with the translation underneath it. Treats it like a whole different language. It's adorable.

Like Alejandro, he thinks it's funny if you speak Spanish with your accent. He'll keep a straight face because he knows you can't help it, but man is it fun to hear.

He's not very fond of a lot of yelling if he can avoid it, Rudy prefers disputes to be handled with calm words if possible. But he understands that sometimes it's necessary. Still, he'd want to try and calm you down if you're yelling. But, if you're just acting sickeningly-sweet, kind words that are clearly dripping with venom? He'll just watch. He thinks that shows you handle yourself very well and it's pretty attractive to him, not gonna lie.

"Awww I'm so sorry you're upset, poor thing. God bless you, sir, you have a lovely day. I hope that stick up your ass doesn't hurt too bad." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" "Shh, sugar, it's fine. He wants to be rude, I can be rude back. An eye for an eye. Don't worry your pretty lil' head bout it, sweetheart." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas."

He's really hesitant about American food. It smells great sometimes but all he hears about American food is that it's greasy, or too salty, etc. Still, he won't deny any meal you make. He thinks it's rude to deny food unless it's something you're allergic to.

He ends up liking a few things, but he is biased to his home cooking. But if you start making his favorite foods, or somehow combine the styles in an honoring way? Oh, those are his favorites. He's particularly fond of American sweets though!

Please bake for this man, bake for him, I beg. Apple pie is an American staple for a reason and he'll jokingly claim he'll move to America if it means he can have apple pie every day.

"Rudy, that's your fourth piece! Ahaha, if I knew you liked it so much I woulda made ya more." "Ay, please do! ¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" "Alright then, hun, I'll be sure to make you all the apple pie ya want."

Rudy really likes if you wear stuff like a cowboy hat. He's not really sure why, he just thinks it's really cute. If it's a staple of your whole look(like John's hat), seeing you protective over it, he thinks that's really cute. If you're protective of your cowboy hat but let him hold it/put it on his head to hold it, it's gonna fluster him. Even if your guy's relationship is completely platonic.

If you live near the border of Texas & Mexico, it makes visiting you pretty easy, so he'll have no qualms about going back and forth when off duty. He'll be more comfortable in his home but he won't turn down the offer to see your home, especially if it's a ranch. He's got a soft spot for farm animals. (Particularly goats)

If he has any control of how you choose your call sign, he'll likely pick something the same way Gaz does. But, if you have a thing about what certain people call you - like how only Ghost can call Soap "Johnny" - He feels really warm and fuzzy if he gets a special privilege.

(Translations; "Eres un maldito idiota. ¡Tan útil como las tetas de un toro!" - "You're a fucking idiot - as useful as a bull's tits/about as useful as tits on a bull!" "Gracias, Bella. Lo necesitaba…" - "Thank you, bella/beauty. I needed it." "¡Soldado! No digas eso…" - "Soldier! You can't say that..." "Dios, a veces me asombras y me aterrorizas." - "God, sometimes you amaze and terrify me." "¡Fue enviado desde el cielo!" - "It was sent from heaven!")

#call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo x reader

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