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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month

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It’s Not A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems.

Word Count: 3.1K (I promise I didn't mean for it to happen)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing (only a few times), Heated Kiss, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex/Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

Main Masterlist

A/N: Okay I know that I should be working on my other fics, but I had this idea after reading an INCREDIBLE fic by @justagirlinafandomworld called "Stranded" for @jacklesversebingo and I couldn't help myself.

Sam squeals the car into the parking lot of the motel so loud that Dean and you can hear the high pitched scream of rubber on asphalt from your room on the second level.

"If he ruins those tires he's going to pay for them." Dean grumbles under his breath from where he sits at the small wooden table under the window, wiping down his gun with a clean rag. The sunlight that came streaming through dramatized the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft sleepy strands of his hair that still stuck up from when he woke up an hour ago.

"I don't know what his hurry is." You don’t look up from the worn paperback perched in your lap, gently turning the page. "If he's that eager to get back here to tell us something he should have just called."

“Maybe there was a sample sale on hair gel.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you can sense him look up from the gun to try and catch your eye, but you don't raise your gaze from the text.

“That’s pretty brave coming from someone who owns 90% of the products in that bathroom.”

“What? I do not-“

“Really? If I walk in there right now there won’t be seven different half-used deodorant sticks?”

“They’re different smells." Dean says defensively. "And shut up. I don’t comment on how many books you bring with you. Don’t know why you need to shove a million in your bag and then just buy one while you’re here.”

“Because I might not feel like reading the ones I bring. I might want to try something new. And this book,” You wave the book in your hand for emphasis. “Is very good and I don’t have it back at the bunker, and it was only two bucks!"

“But the others ones might be good too. You don’t know.” Dean sighs, looking at you like you're insane. "You just let them sit and rot in your suitcase."

Today was the last day that you would be staying in Louis, Illinois. The current case that the three of you had been working on together had been solved, which meant that the townsfolk were no longer dealing with a zombie outbreak and you were at peace to settle down on your pull out bed with a good book, taking a few moments for yourself.

You desperately needed at least five, but you also wished that you were already back in your room at the bunker.

The bed there didn't have as many springs that stuck into your back at odd angles and didn't squeak whenever you moved an inch. Your inability to find a comfortable position meant that the mattress squeaked all night long and Dean had thrown his pillow at you to make it stop. He hadn’t been pleased when you returned it back to him. Then again, you had hit him in the face with it as hard as you could when you did.

And like hell you were going to give Dean Winchester the satisfaction of sleeping in bed with him. You’d had to do that one time on a hunt where there were no extra rooms and Dean refused to let you sleep on the floor or in his car. He said that you might make it spontaneously combust. So you'd shared the bed and learned that he was the biggest blanket hog you’d ever met, not to mention when you woke up he was spooning you and you couldn’t be certain, but you thought he had tried to cop a feel at least once.

If anything you’d maybe sleep in Sam’s bed, but the guy was so much bigger than you he took up most of the space, so you were stuck with the pull out couch.

You couldn't wait to be home. You liked going out on cases, but you liked that you had a home now, a space that was only yours, and someplace where you could shut yourself away from the world. And most importantly, away from Dean Winchester, who had been the bane of your existence since the night you met him for the first time.

Of course this wasn't too bad either. Taking a few moments of quiet for yourself while Dean cleaned his guns and sorted some of his tools in his duffle. The two of you were getting more comfortable around one another. When you’d first met there had been a lot of screaming and several "she's not going to be there is she?" and "what the hell is she doing here?" questions that Dean moaned to Sam over and over the more the three of you teamed up.

You weren't used to working with other people, well, now you were, but before it had just been you and the endless road. But as it began to happen more and more you tried to fit comfortably into the swing of things. Dean and you would occasionally bump heads, but it happened less now than it did before. After five years you'd hoped that the two of you could be more civilized, for Sam's sake at least.

Sam and you got along much better. You didn't understand what Dean's problem was with you, or why he hated you so much. He was always correcting you, insulting you, and snatching things away from you as if you hadn't been hunting your entire life. Occasionally it wasn't that bad, like right now, but it had been much worse a few years ago.

When you'd met Dean you'd hated him, thought he was a dick, but the more the two of you spent time together on cases the more you saw that he did those things to hide what he was feeling and the more you saw how big his heart was.

You believed that your relationship now with him had progressed to a sort of symbiotic relationship, but honestly it was more like passive aggressive roommates who fight over whose turn it is to clean the dishes.

Dean still tended to get high and mighty sometimes and annoyed you without end, but you stuck around and in Sam's words "bickered like an old couple."

Sam had gone to grab some snacks and fill the tank at the gas station down the street twenty minutes ago, leaving with a joyful "Don't kill each other."

So far there were no casualties, but apart of you itched to beam Dean in the back of the head with the paperback just for a little bit of excitement.

Sam bursts into the room out of breath. "Okay I-"

"Where's the fire Sammy?" Dean sighs looking up from his gun.

"I ran into someone when I was at the gas station." Sam says it all together, as if it's one sentence.

"And?" You move your hand in a come on gesture hoping that Sam will get to the point.

"Well he's- he's-"

The man that pushes into the room past Sam is not Dean, he looks like him, but that's not why he's so familiar. He's muscular with dark brown hair that hangs a little longer than Dean's, over the top of his ears, while a few strands fall forward on his forehead. He's allowed a dark beard to cover his cheeks, but his eyes are the same piercing green that they were the last time you saw him. And if that wasn't enough for you to recognize him, the dark green superhero suit would be a dead giveaway.

Oh shit.

"Ben?" You drop your book onto the thick carpeted floor in surprise.

Two months ago you had been unwillingly transported to another reality, a reality where superheroes were real, people had powers, and where you met a version of Dean that you actually got along with better than the Dean in your reality.

You hadn't told Sam or Dean what happened between Ben and you. You weren't about to admit out loud that you actually got along with another version of Dean or admit that you found the other version of Dean aka Ben, attractive. So attractive in fact that you had spent a good amount of the time in the other universe in bed with him before you came back to your reality.

Ben doesn't respond, instead he crosses the room in several powerful strides, and hauls you up off the pull out couch.

"What are you-"

One of his hands tangles in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth against his in a furious kiss that steals your breath away and silences whatever you were going to say next. A part of you registers that Dean and Sam are still in the room, but it's quickly swept away by how it feels to kiss Ben. You hadn't forgotten him, anything but that. Sometimes you actually kind of missed him, when you were lonely or when the Dean from your universe annoyed you too much. Because Ben annoyed you too, but at least at the end of it there was a way to relieve the tension. With Dean the only place you put all your frustration was into the hunt and there were only so many times you could bash a Djinn’s head in.

Ben's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him in, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck to thread into the long strands of his hair. The strands fall between your fingertips, feathering out from your grip. You moan softly into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheeks, and feel his hand begin to slip down your back to rest on the curve of your ass.

Well, he certainly hasn't changed.

"Fuck I missed you sweetheart." Ben murmurs against your mouth squeezing your butt to emphasize the point. "You and this sexy fucking body."

"Ben." You roll your eyes with a snort.

"What? You didn't miss me?" He raises an eyebrow, forcing his mouth into an attractive pout. "Because you certainly seemed happy to see me a second ago." His free hand gently traces your plump lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

"I did and I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Thought so." Ben leans his head back down towards yours, ignoring your question as he tries to kiss you again, but before he can Dean interrupts.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dean shouts, standing from the table under the window, and points his gun at Ben's unprotected back. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ben half turns over his shoulder eyes flicking from the gun to Dean with a sigh. "Look the only thing that's gonna do is piss me off. And you don't want that kid."

Dean makes a face. "Who the hell are you calling kid?"

"Now why don't you two fuck off for a few hours, let me give her a proper hello." Ben turns his dark eyes back on you, cupping your chin in his large hand.

"Y/n? You want to tell us what's happening? Or who this guy is?" Sam asks, but you can't look away from Ben.

You really had missed him. Ben was even more attractive than you remembered. The day that you'd left his universe, Ben had asked you to stay, well, had asked you in his own way. He'd said that he wasn't done with you and if you had stayed he would have made it worth your while. But you had to come back. You weren’t sure how Dean and Sam would survive without you and also because the universe that Ben inhabited was more terrifying than yours, and that was saying something, given that you dealt with demons on a daily basis.

"Guys this is Ben." You clear your throat. "Ben this is Dean and Sam."

"Ben as in Soldier Boy? From the fucked up reality with the people with superpowers Ben?" Dean sputters. He lowered the gun slightly, but he's still looking from Ben to you like he's just walked in on his parents making out.

"Yes." You say it slowly, trying to find a way out, but there really isn't any way to hide this.

It's not that big a deal, is it?

Ben releases you and turns to look at Dean, eyes skating over his body. "So that's Dean?" He tilts his head to the side. "Kinda scrawny. The way you described him made me think he'd look a little more like a man and less like a fucking pussy."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dean takes a step towards Ben, holding his gun steady out from his chest. You noticed that Dean did try to puff it out more after Ben's insult.

"You heard me." Ben smirks, welcoming the challenge.

"Whoa!" You step between them. "Calm down ladies there's enough Prada to go around at this sample sale."

Ben's eyes narrow in confusion at your comment, but he doesn't back down from Dean.

"I'd say that you left a few details out of your trip!" Dean shouts looking from Ben to you in disgust. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What?" You look at him like he’s crazy.

What does he mean?

"You, and him." Dean gestures wildly with the gun. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What are you talking about? No I didn't sleep with you, I slept with him and it was only once!" You shout back.

Ben clears his throat.

"Fine. A few times.” You correct with a sigh.

“But- you- him-“ Dean’s head turns from Ben to you. “Him- you-.”

“Yeah. Me and her fucked.” Ben says it slowly like Dean is a child.

Honestly he was acting a little bit like a child.

Sam is holding back his laughter behind a hand while Dean’s eye begins to twitch aggressively.

This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. They aren’t the same person! Dean is Dean and Ben is Ben. Someone who shares the same face. And probably the same other things that I’m not going to think about right now because that seems crazy.

"How many times is a few?” Dean demands.

"Why does that matter?”

"HOW MANY?" He shouts so loud that you think the people in the next room over were probably having a wonderful time listening to this soap opera.

Because it kinda did sound like one right? The main character never gets along with someone and then gets transported to another reality through a colorful portal and immediately clicks with another version of him. And-

Maybe I need to rethink my life.

"Well..." Your face scrunched up trying to count exactly how many times that you and Ben had sex. It was difficult. Not that it was hard to remember, you knew that you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon, but just the amount of times the two of you were together was more than you could count on your fingers.

"Well what? You were there for five days!"

"I mean..." You shrug.

“Why?” Dean groans pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to scrub the images from his brain.

Honestly, if he’d told you that he had sex with another version of you, you probably would have had the same reaction, but you were not about to admit that to Dean Winchester of all people.

He’s not gonna win this argument. Especially not when he's waving his gun around like a psychopath.

“Because he's-“ You glance over at Ben who winks at you. “I don’t know. He’s just kinda-.”

“Everything you’re not.” Ben raises his eyebrow at Dean.

“Sammy you gonna weigh in on this?” You look at Sam expectantly hoping that he can jolt Dean out of the never ending loop he seemed to be stuck in.

“Nope. I’m staying out of it.” Sam holds his hands up in surrender.

“I cannot believe you slept with me!” Dean shouts again.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t sleep with you! I slept with him. Can we please move on-“ You groan.

"Same thing!"

"What? How is it the same thing?” You plant your hands on your hips glaring at Dean.

"He's me from another universe!" Dean is gesturing wildly with his gun now. “How would you feel if I slept with an alternate version of you?”

“It’s completely different!”

“How?”

“They aren’t us!”

“He sure as hell looks like me!" Dean snaps back. "What did you close your eyes the whole time or something?"

Your cheeks flare bright red with Dean's question. "No I didn't!"

“And I don’t look like you.” Ben grunts crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean a once over again.

“He also doesn’t act like you.” You add.

It was true, Ben didn’t. And for some reason you got along with him more. You didn’t understand what Dean’s problem was, but for the better part of five years he’d been treating you like you hadn’t been hunting your whole life. Not to mention the first three years were spent with Dean barely saying two words to you without some kind of insult attached.

“That’s beside the point!”

“How is that beside the point?” You demand.

“I can’t believe you did this!”

"I didn't kill anyone Dean. I didn't torture any babies or kill any puppies. We are consenting adults! We had sex-"

“No no no!” Dean puts his fingers in his ears. “Lalalalala.” He sings to himself to avoid the image.

"And we're gonna have it again. So the two of you should clear out, unless you're in to that kind of thing Deanie.” Ben wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, but you don’t take your eyes off of Dean.

“Fuck I’m gonna need so much therapy after this” Dean groans putting the gun down on the table. Which was a good sign because now you weren’t worried that he would accidentally shoot Sam in the foot.

“Really? After everything you’ve gone through that’s what pushes you over the edge?” You ask him in shock.

“Yes. Are you happy? You’ve driven me to the point of insanity!” Dean snaps.

"You're acting like a child."

"I am not! I am having a completely normal reaction to finding out you slept with Wannabe Captain America!” Dean gestures to all of Ben who looks at Dean like he can’t tell if it’s an insult or not.

You take in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Why are you so upset that I slept with him Dean? I don’t understand how this is so earth shattering to you that two people had sex! You have sex with people all the time-“

“Not with you!”He snaps back, but then clears his throat when he realized what he just said.

“He is not YOU!” You shout rolling your eyes for the millionth time. At the rate he was going, you were sure they were going to roll out of your head.

“As important as this conversation is… can we maybe put a pin in it and go back to why he’s here?” Sam asks diplomatically.

“No-“ Dean says at the same time you say.

“Yes! Ben why are you here?”

“Don’t really know.” He shrugs taking a long hit from a joint that seemed to materialize out of thin air, while tightening his arm over your shoulders. “All I know was that I was fighting Homelander and someone hit me from behind. Then I ended up here.” Ben’s eyes trace your body. “But I’m not complaining, especially not because I got to see you again doll.” He winks.

“Homelander?” Dean repeats. “That is the stupidest hero name I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“He’s anything but a hero.” You fight the shudder from the last time you ran in to him. “Think about Superman if Superman was a narcissistic sadist with a massive inferiority complex, no weakness, and an obsession with perfect hair.”

Dean looks Ben up and down with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t have at least been a bit more like Batman.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to meet knockoff Batman from his reality either.” You respond.

"I guess I'll start doing some research." Sam says slowly, looking from Ben to you while hiding a smile.

He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Good." Dean frowns at Ben, before he claps him hard on the shoulder. You saw Dean fight the wince when he felt how solid Ben was. "Let's get you home buddy." His eyes dart from Ben to you. "Before you do anything else that'll scar me for life."

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are not required, but are always appreciated! 😊

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

#supernatural #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #jensen ackles #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom

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the-bofurin-digest · 3 months

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Hayato Suo: Casual Headcanons

Casual Headcanons

~ Absolutely hits up thrift shops, antique malls, and estate sales. He feels like someone my grandma would be friends with ~ Older sibling energy. I could see him with a couple of rowdy, hard to manage little brothers. that's how he is so patient and calm when dealing with his classmates. They are nothing compared to the little monsters at home. ~ Snores when he sleeps, denies it when people tell him. ~ Has a fascination with supernatural things (ghosts, aliens, cryptids, Sakura when he is in a good mood) ~ Collects pretty rocks and stones from all the places he visits when they have a good memory attached to them. He seems the type to appreciate a good agate or a pretty layered gneiss ~ makes the absolute best soups in winter. ~ His room is a mess of books, papers, and other misc things. ~ He never makes his bed. ~ Would pass up soaking in a hot spring, but loves saunas ~ LEGALLY NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE. And not just because of age. Suo would literally be the worst casual driver in the world and shrug it off. (It wasn't me, the curb just jumped in the way of the car!)

Dating Headcanons

~ Suo is the type of guy to date in the winter when the world is cold and all you are looking for is warmth. ~ A warm bowl of soup, a cup of tea, cuddled up in the window seat together in a nice warm blanket, and reading a book together or talking while watching the snow slowly fall is his heaven with you. ~ Love language when receiving love from a partner: Acts of service even if its something as small as holding the door for him. He is very big on showing love once he sees it makes a difference in the relationship, and really enjoys his partner doing it to show their love for him. ~ Love language when giving love to a partner: Words of affirmation. Suo is very kindhearted towards his partner and loves building them up, seeing them glow when he compliments them or notes improvements. ~ You knew it was getting serious when he got you your own teacup to keep at his place. ~ I like to think that he would actually not be the one to make the first move. You would be and his normally cool self would be so flustered and taken off guard. While his normal affection and happy demeanor are still there, it will take him awhile to warm up to and sort of differentiate affection for a romantic partner vs platonic. but once he gets comfortable, it's a wonderful feeling for both of you. ~ Cute Suo moment? Slow dancing to the in the kitchen together while waiting for the tea to boil while he teases you about your two left feet and you giggling at his horrible off tune humming of some song neither of you know.

#hayato suo #hayato suo x reader #bofurin #wind breaker (satoru nii)#headcanons #wind breaker satoru nii

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theshitpostcalligrapher · 1 year

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Shits Annual Old Inventory Sale (oops this shoulda been done during spring)

So with the arrival of our foster dog, my executive dysfunction has FINALLY taken a critical hit, which means I can get working towards shit I've been trying to deal with since February!

(ie killing old inventory and designing/releasing new pieces)

Doing a 30% off sale for these prints that are either a) going to be taken fully out of rotation or b) going for a bit of sabbatical before I redesign them to look significantly cooler/up to scratch with my current abilities

When these bad boys are gone, they are GONE. If you dm me for custom requests to buy a dead print I'll do so for you but the general listing will die when inventory is out. I've hyperlinked the shop listings to their bolded titles.

First Paragraph of My Immortal - now I THOUGHT I'd purged my home of these prints LAST year but there are STILL FOUR STRAGGLER SETS LEFT that I found underneath some old renn faire gear in pristine condition so. Here they are. On sale. I wish to be free of my curse

Naval Seal Copypasta - Ahhh old friend, it has been a journey, for you are a meme of such tenure older than even the porn ban and one of my first designs, but today I free you. There are 2 copies of the first page only and 9 copies of the full three piece set remaining, I submit you to the void

Man Hook Hand Hook Car Door - To be honest, it's 2023 and this one has never been a super popular piece in the first place, and with 7 prints left I thought it best to let her go for the sake of space

Penis - I put wayyyyy too much hutzpah designing this piece in the first place and getting prints of it done cleanly were weirdly difficult, so I'm just gonna be cutting and running on this piece - props to anyone who can find allllll of the dong jokes I've tried to weave into the piece tho! There's 10 prints left, and out of those one is a weird and fucked up misprint with which i will be including a free sticker just for funsies

Limerick Rolled- This is a sabbatical one, I designed it years ago with MUCH less experience than I have today re: text spacing and would like to put her under a redesign. There are only 2 of these bad boys left, and I'll try to get her redesign up with all the others when I release 'em.

Do Good Recklessly - Another sabbatical design, I'd like to neaten this one out and rework the illumination a bit more cleanly. There's 8 prints left in my supplies, and I'll also try to get the redesign out with all the new print designs I've got planned for this summer

#long post #boost #reblogs support the artist #calligraphy #memes #sale

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sprinkler-ashes · 2 years

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gorgeous // aaron hotchner x reader

gorgeous

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you’re jack hotchner’s teacher, and you are utterly enamored of his dad. loosely based off of taylor swift’s song “gorgeous.”

words: 2.4k

warnings: everyone thirsting over hotch lmao

a/n: thank you all soooo very much for 600+ notes on my last fic!!! here’s another small taylor-inspired fic. It’s short, sweet, and i left it open for a part 2 in case i want to write it – we’ll see. i really wanted to get more out for you guys, but spring semester started, i fell back into constant work, and now am getting over the flu, which totally sucks, but is giving me a slight break to write. thanks for reading <3

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

On most days, you loved your job. You were a first grade teacher and truly loved all the kids you had as if they were your own.

However, on some days – you really despised your job.

Dealing with the parents was sometimes your least favorite part of your job. It was usually mind-boggling to you at how some of these people had the sweetest and smartest kids, but they, the parents themselves, could be absolutely awful. It wasn’t all of the parents. In fact, there were some you really liked, but there were definitely a couple bad ones.

As much as you didn’t like dealing with some of those bad parents during conferences, you weren’t a fan of days like today – a Saturday bake sale at nine in the morning to raise money for an end-of-the-year field trip coming up at the end of the school year in just a couple months. The PTA was over the bake sale, which meant you had to deal with some of the most insufferable women you had ever met on what was supposed to be a day off.

“I told you, Stef, she’s just with him so she can get that life insurance check when he finally kicks the bucket – you watch and see if I’m not right,” the woman next to you, Kelly, said. “Poor Charlie, I hope he gets away from her before she snatches every penny he’s got.”

You wanted to scream. You weren’t sure how you were going to deal with this for another – you checked your watch – two hours and thirty-eight minutes even though the bake sale was only supposed to be three hours long. How had it only been twenty-two minutes?

Kelly was the resident gossip while Stefanie, Stef, was her best friend and head of the PTA. Kelly’s son wasn’t in your class, but Stef’s twins were both in your class. Even though you didn’t even teach Kelly’s kid, you saw her often because she was always at every single school event.

“Stef, are you listening to me?” You heard Kelly ask.

“Did you know Mr. Hotchner is here?” Stef asked excitedly.

Your head perked up at hearing that. You pretended to fiddle with the homemade brownies wrapped up in front of you while you listened.

“That man is so beautiful. I just want him for myself,” Kelly replied. “I’m glad he made it today, so we have something nice to look at.”

You couldn’t disagree with Kelly there. Aaron Hotchner was the dad of one of the kids in your class, Jack, and a member of the PTA. He was the Unit Chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and was often gone on cases. Jack’s mom had died a while ago, close to two years prior, and Jessica, Jack’s aunt, was usually the one who would drop him off and pick him up.

In fact, you had only met Jack’s dad a couple times – three, to be exact. The first time you met Jack and Aaron was at the school’s open house event right before school had started. The second time was the first parent-teacher conference of the year. The last time you had seen him was purely by luck in the grocery store one evening.

Kelly wasn’t wrong – Aaron Hotchner was insanely attractive and every woman in the PTA knew it. It honestly seemed like everyone knew it except for Aaron himself. You watched as he helped Jack give change back to a man who was buying a cookie at the booth he was at. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him give his son a high-five after the man had left.

Truthfully, you hated him. Not because he had ever done anything to you – actually, it was because he hadn’t done anything to you.

“Do you think he’ll ever remarry?” Kelly asked Stef. “If so, I hope it’s one of us.”

“You, me, and every woman here,” Stef said with a laugh. “Oh my goodness, Kelly, he’s coming over here. Fix your hair! It looks like a bird’s nest.”

You felt your pulse start to race as you glanced up to find that Stef was, indeed, right. Aaron was coming over, his eyes trained on you with his hands in his pockets. He was dressed casually in jeans and a crewneck sweatshirt. It was different from the usual suits you saw him in. Seeing him without a tie felt almost criminal.

“Good morning,” he told you, not paying attention to the other women near you, his eyes trained solely on you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Jack wants to know if you’ll come join his booth for a moment. It won’t be long.”

You silently it wasn’t obvious that his gaze on you was affecting you the way that it was. His job was literally to profile people – you just hoped he wasn’t profiling you right now. “Yeah, I’d love to. Do you mind taking over this booth while I go over for a bit?”

“Go right ahead, honey,” Kelly told you. She lowered her voice, “I’d go anywhere with him, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just going to see Jack’s poster.”

Kelly grinned. “Whatever you say.”

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact with Aaron and watching as both the women gave him a smile and little wave while you maneuvered from out behind the table you were standing at. “Lead the way.”

He gave you a small smile as he removed his hands from his pockets and led you over to the table him and Jack were assigned to. “I know you’re miserable, so I thought I’d help you escape.”

You were about to ask how he knew you’d rather have been doing anything else other than Stef and Kelly gossip, but you closed your mouth as soon as you opened it. “Really? You were profiling me? Here?”

That earned you a laugh out of him, which you now claimed as your favorite sound you’ve ever heard. “I don’t think it would’ve taken a profiler to see that you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Did you guys not get assigned with anyone else? It was supposed to be three to five people per table,” you mentioned as you two had finally reached the cookie booth that Aaron and Jack were over.

“We did, but they didn’t show,” Aaron replied to you, his hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you behind the table where Jack was awaiting, causing you to elicit a sharp intake at the contact. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said in your best attempt at a nonchalant tone. If he doubted you, he didn’t press further. “Do you want me to ask around and see if I can get someone to come work the cookie booth with you guys?”

Aaron shook his head. “We’re holding up fine. Right, Jack?”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Jack shouted coming towards you as he held out his poster board that was just about as big as he was and filled with hand-drawn pictures of cookies. “Look at my sign! Daddy let me stay up late to make it.”

You crouched down to his level. “It looks awesome, Jack!” you told him excitedly, gaining a smile of your own as you watched his spread wide. “You did a great job!”

“Thanks! Can you put it back in front of the table, please?” He asked you politely. You nodded and took the poster back from him and placed it back in its rightful spot in front. “Daddy, can I go talk to my friends? I’ll be really quick, I pinky-promise.”

“Yes, but don’t be too long. We have cookies to sell,” Aaron told him.

You both watched as Jack’s little legs carried him just right in front of the table you were at. He was only a couple feet away, but you noticed Aaron’s eyes watching him, making sure he got there safely and that the adults working that table saw him.

“He thinks the world of you. I think you’re his favorite person,” Aaron told you.

That made you grin. You weren’t supposed to have favorites as a teacher, especially with kids as young as the ones you taught, but Jack was definitely one of your favorites. He was a sweet kid and was even reading on a fourth grade level. He caused no trouble and was a friend to everyone.

“He’s a great kid. I think the world of him also,” you said, your eyes locking with Aaron’s. Your breath hitched. How was someone this gorgeous? “But I actually think you’re his favorite person. He tells everyone about you and what you do. You’re his hero.”

Aaron grinned, and it was a sight you hadn’t seen before. You’d gotten smiles from him before, but never anything this big. You refrained from quite literally melting onto the floor. To be honest, you weren’t sure how you were going to last another minute standing here with him. He was so attractive you could barely even look at him.

If you said you didn’t have a teeny, tiny crush on Jack’s dad, you would be lying, but he was off-limits. For one, you were his son’s teacher. You’d really convinced yourself that there was no way he would want someone like you. There was nothing wrong with you, but you two were supposed to have a strictly professional relationship.

“Have you tried one of the cookies?” Aaron asked you, motioning to the cookies that laid on the table in front of the two of you.

“I haven’t,” you replied. “Did you bake all of these?”

“I had some help,” he sheepishly admitted. “Penelope, one of my co-workers, she helped me. As soon as we got back from a case last night, she came over. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to bake this many cookies by myself.”

“You made all of these last night? And after a case?” you asked incredulously. The entire table was covered in cookies of various different flavors. You were seriously impressed.

“Yeah, but it was no big deal,” he brushed it off. “I didn’t want to miss the bake sale. Plus, like I said, I didn’t do all of it.”

Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

You laughed. “I’m sure you’re probably wishing that you did miss the bake sale.” You gestured around the school parking lot that was set up. “I can count on one hand the number of things we’ve sold. I told Stef that a chilly February bake sale wasn’t a good idea, but she doesn’t really listen.”

“No, I’m glad I’m here. I really wanted to be here,” he said, looking directly at you.

This man knew how to take your breath away without even touching you or really even saying anything. You really understand now why all the PTA moms spent so much time gossiping about him.

“We’re glad you could make it,” you said breathlessly, offering a smile. “Really, Mr. Hotchner, I know how busy you are, so all of us are thrilled that you could find the time to help out.”

“Call me Aaron.”

This man was genuinely going to drive you crazy. You were an adult, so why did talking to Aaron Hotchner almost make you drop to the ground?

Before you could say anything else, Jack was back. “Did we get any more customers?”

“Not yet, buddy.”

Jack frowned. “Ah, man. But the cookies are so good!” He turned to you. “Miss Y/L/N, why is no one buying anything?”

“I’m not sure, Jack. Hopefully, we’ll get some more customers later.”

“I hope so,” he said sadly. “I really want to go on the field trip.”

You once again crouched down to his height – something you did often when talking to any of the kids. “We’re working really hard to make the field trip happen, so don’t give up hope, okay?”

Before Jack could reply, you noticed people coming towards your table, so you motioned for Jack to look. “Look! There’s some customers coming. You ready?”

Jack nodded excitedly as he turned around and eagerly started to await the arrival of the people nearing. You smiled at his excitement and took a step back, letting him take control, but you were going to keep watch to make sure he was doing everything correctly.

“I can see why Jack likes you so much.”

You smiled. The greatest compliments you could receive was from parents telling you their kids – the kids you spent more time with than your own family — liked you. Some days were tough, and it would feel like you weren’t in the right profession, but that feeling would go away any time a parent was able to confirm that their child really enjoyed you teaching them.

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner, but I should probably get back to helping out Stef and Kelly,” you told him as you looked around to see more people filing in. “It seems we’re starting to get a little busy.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you busy. Jack just wanted you to come over.”

Jack turned around. “Yeah, I did. Daddy wasn’t happy that we didn’t get to work a table with you. He called Miss Stef a-”

Aaron’s eyes went for a split second before he said, “Jack, turn back around and sell your cookies.”

Jack did as he was told and Aaron awkwardly ran a hand through his hair as you replayed what Jack said back in your head. Aaron wanted to talk to you. He wanted to work with you today. It could’ve meant anything, but you were currently feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Aaron cleared his throat. “I guess Jack wasn’t the only one that wanted to talk to you.”

You suppressed a grin, gaining the courage to look Aaron in the eyes. “And I guess Jack wasn’t the only one I came over here for.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner

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lonelyisamyw-0love · 9 months

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Another Place, Another Time (Pt. 2)

JakeXFem!Reader, StevenXFem!Reader (Marc in headspace)

Summary: So your best friend is back in your life, and is also not one, not two but three people. Reconnecting with Steven isn’t as easy as you thought, and you gain a new perspective on your childhood.

CW: mentions of the boy’s childhood/abuse/ neglect, wendy is her own warning, swearing, threats of violence, swearing, bad Chicagoan accents, almost definitely railroad sentences, poor job at explaining DID Beta’d by @saturn-rings-writes 💖 A/N: It’s weird trying to explain DID without getting into the weeds about it. Weird downside of being a clinician. Anyways, Here’s part 2 I hope you like it! Steven is Orange Marc is green Jake is Red

Word Count: ~3k

The only movement in your apartment is the steady rise and fall of Jake’s chest. Your eyes search over his face, reviewing your attempts at first aid and internally patting yourself on the back. The bandages stuck on, and they don’t seem as red and angry in the daylight. How he manages to look like he’s aware of everything even while sleeping is beyond you. His body looks so stiff, is that from whatever happened last night or is this normal for him? Maybe you shouldn’t be watching him sleep on your couch, you muse, but isn’t it good bedside manner to check on a patient? His brows are still furrowed slightly, the bruise on his cheek casts a shadow over his profile, and his lip is still swollen; but hey, at least he isn’t bleeding anymore. Does this man ever relax? He even sleeps tense, arms crossed over his chest protecting himself like a coiled spring. When is he going to wake up? You have questions, and you’re hungry. You let out a groan louder than you intend startling jake awake. ¡puta madre!” He swears, sitting bolt upright, he grabs your shirt in a vice like grip. The suddenness of his movements, startles you as well, causing you to scream, “Shit! Jake it’s me!” You throw your hands up, palms facing him to try and show him you mean no harm. He glares at you a moment, chest heaving before recognition flashes in his eyes and he lets go. “Y/N…lo siento, I thought, I forgot where we were.” He raises an eyebrow at you, “why are you sitting on the floor?” “oh! I was watching you…sleep. To see if you were okay! Not like in a weird way. You were injured and anyways…breakfast? Breakfast sounds good!” You get to your feet and hurry to your kitchen leaving behind a groggy and confused Jake.

Steven? You need new friends hm? What’s wrong with Y/N? She was watching me sleep She does that. Erm well she used to do that Que lo…what do you mean she does that?? She did that when were were young too, if I slept over, I’d wake up and she’d be there. Said she wanted to make sure I was okay while I slept or somethin’ like that

Huffing softly, Jake slowly makes his way off the couch to see you cooking the breakfast burrito he usually orders at the diner while coffee brews. “I um…sorry, about grabbing you earlier. I’m not used to people watching me sleep, not nice ones anyways.” He jokes “y’know, I want to ask what kind of people are watching you sleep at all, but I don’t think I want to know the answer, and Im sorry for staring at you for an hour” “An hour? Y/N what do you mean an hour?!” You wave your spatula dismissively, “Water under the bridge. Anyways, can we talk more about you being this bogo sale of 3 people, one body?" Jake can’t believe what’s more bizarre, him sleeping over at your house after you found him behind a dumpster and waking to you cooking his order that you apparently memorized, the fact that you are so nonchalant about their disorder, or, that you two were actually childhood friends. You hand him his burrito and coffee, “cream is in the fridge, sugar in the bowl and I don’t have your cotija cheese. Sorry” “We aren’t…Im not.”, Jake rolls his eyes deciding there is no point in arguing semantics with you. “Sure fine, we’re a bargain deal. What questions do you have.” He asks as he makes his coffee before following you back to the living room. “Just start from the top, I guess. Explain more of what dissociating disorder is.”

“Dissociative Identity disorder Y/N and it’s…when someone deals with…less than ideal events, sometimes their brains separate it from themselves. It makes “alters” or, like other people to deal with it.” Jake attempts to cobble together an explanation without reliving their past. You nod, trying to follow along, “So something bad happened and now you, Steven and Marc all live like in the same body but aren’t the same person…yes? “Yea, that’s…yea pretty much” “So who gets to do what? Why do you always come to the diner and never either one of them? Can they hear me?” Jake chokes on the coffee he’s been sipping, “woah, Slow down Y/N.” “Sorry, sorry. To be fair I did tell you last night that I had a lot of questions” you laugh “So when you’re, out or talking or…whatever. Are Steven and Marc around?” “The word you’re looking for is ‘fronting’ and only sometimes. We used to keep our lives separate from one another but are trying to work together more like a-like a family.” “So who is who in the family?” Jake chuckles, “to me? Steven is mi hermanito, like a little brother. He can hold his own, but I still worry about him. Marc is the stubborn middle brother who thinks he is right but isn’t. I'm the oldest, the level headed one, the planner. I make sure we’re safe”

Don’t talk about me like that to Y/N! oh now you care what Y/N thinks about you? Shut it Steven, and Jake? The level headed one? Fat chance Mr. Answers-his-problems-with-fists

You look over Jake’s face, mustering up the courage to ask the question that woke up you in the early hours of the morning. “So is Steven is ‘around’ or ‘present’ since your fronting? Is that right? I don’t know how to ask about any of this without sounding like a dick.” Jake chuckles softly, “Si, Steven is here, you can ask if any of us are ‘around’ if that’s easier. Besides, he’s been bothering me since yesterday to speak with you”. “Really?” Jake nods, finishing his coffee “yes really, I can get him for you, if you like.” “I would love that! Could you really get him for me?” You exclaim. However that excitement is diminished as you realize that you asked jake to connect you with Steven like a phone operator. “Wait, that was rude Jake, I don’t want you to think I’m getting rid of you I just-“ “It’s fine Y/N, besides I’ll always be around, you just have to ask” he quips before closing his eyes. You sit and wait for something, anything to happen. “I wish he would’ve told me how this works” you mumble to yourself as Jake’s (Steven’s?) eyes snap open. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat. You know that accent, that small upwards lilt at the end of your name having heard it for years in your youth. You study his features, it’s the same face but it’s not. The lifted brows, the light in his eyes, the barely contained energy emanating from him. “S-Steven? Holy…shit is that really you?” You notice, his eyes frantically searching your face as well, as if in disbelief, “Y/N, gods it is you”. He goes to reach out for you which temporarily breaks you from your reverie. “Hold on…Okay if you are StevenI’m going to ask you some questions and we’ll say the answer at the same time? I want to make sure you are who you say you are.” Steven blinks at you a few times before agreeing, “right, yea course Y/N, but it’s been years”, he chuckles nervously, “l-loads of things have happened since we last saw each other”.

What the hell is she doin’? Hush hermano, Steven is being interrogated by Y/N What do you mean interro- Mira

“You’re right, you’re right” you nod in agreement with Steven, who sighs in relief. “Thank you Y/N, I ju-“

“What their secret password was when they were kids?” You fire off, “W-What? Our secret password?” “What did I want to be when I grew up?” “You changed that almost every time I saw you Y/N I don’t-“

“What did my mom always make us for dinner when you came over?” “Y/N I can’t remember those things!“ his voice pinches as his anxiety spikes

Guilt grips you like a vice. If this is Steven, you’ve spent the first 2 minutes grilling him. Sighing, you relent, “I’m sorry, look I just…I need to make sure you’re you y’know? Last question, I swear” You look at him earnestly, “what was the stuffed animal I gave you?” Steven looks up at you, shoulder dropping as his anxiety melts away. Smiling proudly, he answers “Sir Rosser, he was a purple patchwork bunny”

¿qué carajo? that’s …no ..she gave us…

You squint your eyes, “and who knighted Sir Rosser?” “You did, because you were the ‘lady of the land’. Knighted him with a ruler if I remember right.” Steven replies before he is summarily smashed into the couch from you tackling him “it is you! Steven I’ve missed you! I-I can’t believe it.” Steven hugs back tightly. Ignoring the ache in the body, he grabs fistfuls of your shirt as though you were a lifeline. “Y/N! Oh I’ve missed you so much”

“Steven, what the hell happened to you? We…you said we’d keep in touch after high school, and you just…disappeared. I couldn’t ever get in touch with you. No one knew where you were and your phone was always dead.” you ramble, the sting of losing Steven bubbling back to the surface.

“I-I know. I promised a lot of things and feel like a right twit for all of it Y/N, truly. I want to tell you what has happened and where we went, yea. But I think that’s more Marc’s story to tell. S’not that I don’t want to share, just doesn’t feel right”.

“Fine…you’re right. I mean I guess that’s fair. Still feels like bullshit that I thought you were gone this whole time and you were literally under my nose for the last year. Steven chuckles softly, “always was good at hiding, Y/N”. “I won’t ask about details but I gotta know. When we were kids, what the hell was going on? Sometimes I would see you every day for a week and then you’d be gone with no explanation. School sucked without you there and, your dad was always vague about what was going on and then you’d be back at my house like nothing happened.” “I uh…its…Marc’s mum she struggled when we were younger. You have to understand love, she had okay days and bad days…and some really bad days. She kicked Marc out of the house once, left him on the front stoop. Poor lad, had a proper fit and I fronted. I wandered to your house and the rest is history”.

You shake your head, “No, Wendy definitely dropped you off at my house that day Steven. That’s what mom said when she called me downstairs.” Steven shakes his head, “Y/N, I may not remember a lot, but I remember that day. Marc’s mum was having a really bad day. I don’t know what happened, but when I fronted, I was outside and alone. You were the only kid I remember even noticing me, so I went and knocked on your door. We needed somewhere safe to go.” he replies quietly.

Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, sickening gears setting into motion as you realize what your friend experienced “Steven? You…weren’t a clumsy child were you? The forgotten meals and disappearing. Oh god, Steven the yelling. Mom always said your family liked the TV loud but…fuck was that Wendy?” Steven casts his eyes down “I think you already know the answer love”. You sit there, trying to quash the bile rising in your throat, the simmering anger at what he experienced and the profound sadness for your friend. Utterly shell-shocked you speak up, “Steven Im so so sorry. I…can you give me a moment please. To sit with that?” “Course love, it’s a lot I suppose” Steven replies, fidgeting with the end of their shirt. You nod getting off the couch and heading to your room, “yea it’s just…hold that thought and ignore the screams.” Steven looks at you bewildered, “screams? why would you-.” Your bedroom door cuts him off before he hears you shout “FUCK! What the FUCK!” stunning him into silence. He stares at the door hearing a string of angry mumbles, sniffles and swears coming from inside your room.

uh lads…d’you think… you never told me (Y/N) gave us that rabbit! Woah ¡cálmese! That’s what your worried about right now? And it’s because Sir Rosser was MY rabbit first! Oye! Los dos- That rabbit…that rabbit was the only thing that felt safe in that house. I thought that she gave me that rabbit on one of her good days oh Marc..mate. I thought you knew.

The door to your room creaks open, as you emerge red faced. “Im sorry about that. I needed to get that out of my system. What she did to you…to all of youse it…I don’t have the words”. You flop unceremoniously onto the couch and look at your friend who seems deep in thought. “Steven? Steven I really am sorry if what I did was insensitive but to know that you...that that was happening next door just…it infuriates me” Steven looks up and offers you a small smile, “s’alright Y/N, it is a lot innit? Nice being able to spend time with you and your mum though.” After a brief pause, Steven smiles at you. “Oh, when you went to your room to uhh” “I had a tantrum Steven, it’s okay. You can say it” You chuckle softly. “Right. While you had your moment I had a chat with Marc, and I think it would do him some good to pop in and talk with you at some point.

Steven, no. whatever you’re trying to do: no. Hermano, best just let Steven have this. He’s trying y’know? Whatever. I haven’t agreed to anything yet.

A few moments pass, and Steven raises his eyebrows at you. Smiling a bit wider, you catch on, “I would love to meet the mysterious man himself. Only when he is good and ready though”. Steven mouths the words ‘Thank You’ to you before addressing you directly. “Great that’s that settled, now! Can we chat bout something else? Its been bloody ages! Hows things?”

“I wish I had something interesting to tell ya Steven, but in all honesty things are pretty boring. I got a degree and graduated second in my class but, then I couldn’t find a career that I could see myself in long term. I can keep a job sure, but it sucks clocking in to somewhere that feels like its stealin’ your friggin’ soul.” You lean your head back on the couch. “So I quit corporate, started working at Hungry Hub while I figure out next move. I’ve been there about 2 years now. Pay is inconsistent and the owner, Bryce sucks but I like it, feels like a little family. Besides, it brought me back to you. I picked up a few hobbies over the years, but nothing’s ever stuck except baking.”

Steven stares at you, happily nodding along as you update him on your life. “You still bake? After all this time?”

You laugh, a warmth settling into your chest being able to share time with Steven again, “Yea, kept it going since we used to bake with mom, but now I bake when I’m anxious or stressed out.”

“I remember baking with you and your mum! We made chocolate chip cookies one evenin’. She got us matching aprons and played this soft music. She was so patient even when I-I …dropped the whole bag of chocolate chips in the bowl”

You interject, “Yea, you panicked so bad I thought you were gunna pass out which…makes sense now all things considered”. Steven smiles sadly, “but your mum was so kind. She said there’s no such thing as too much chocolate and we..just kept baking. It was like it never even happened.” He trails off, seemingly lost in thought. You watch his features drop, tears brimming as he recalls his childhood. You tentatively place your hand on Steven’s knee, “For what it’s worth, mom was right. There is no such thing as too much chocolate and no what has happened or what will happen, Im happy to have you back Steven.”

Your words pull Steven from his thoughts. Blinking back tears, he leans over and hugs you again. Returning the gesture firmly, you rub your hand up and down his back a bit before you chuckle to yourself. Steven leans back, “what…what’s so funny?”. Covering your mouth to stifle a laugh you gesture vaguely to him “I am over the moon to have you back but you reek, er Jake reeks. This…the body…it stinks.” Steven leans further back, sniffing his own armpit “oh bollocks, we haven’t showered or anything. Still in Jakes clothes from last night even”

“I can drive youse guys back to your place to shower, change and do whatever needs to get done y’know. As long as everyone is okay with it.” Steven smiles at your consideration of them. “Im ready to go, I think Jake would be fine with it as well…Not sure about Marc.” “I don’t know how but why don’t you just ask ‘em. Like…how you talked to them before?” She’s quick hermanito I know mate, but you heard her. How’s it sound? Si claro, works for me marc?...Marc c’mon. You can’t avoid her forever hermano Shut it. I know I can’t I’m just…let me adjust will ya? She can take us back to the apartment. I just need time. S’all you had to say Steven’s right. Clear communication Clear communication. I…I’ll talk to her at some point. Just give me some time.

“Steven, everything okay? You’ve been quiet for a long time.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “Hello?” He blinks a few times, turning towards you, “Oh sorry, I was just checking in with Marc and Jake, everything is aces (Y/N) Just…be patient with Marc yea? He needs some time”. You smile warmly as you stand to grab your keys “Well youse guys are stuck with me now, so I’ve got all the time in the world.”

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #x reader #moon knight series

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sexy-opium-ravioli · 1 year

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Photo Booth

Universe: Resident Evil

wc: 1,791

Pairing: Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Not many, just the fact that Leon is your stepbrother and he is .5 of a little shit. Otherwise, this is a good, old fashioned fluff piece.

a/n: Hihi hello hello :) I've been trying to claw my way out of depression for a while, but here's some cute Leon content in the meantime!

@lipglossanon !! thank you for being such a wonderful writer, honestly reading you has been really inspiring as of late! and your characterization of the Leons you have are among my very favorite.

It not my best work by any means, but I hope anyone reading this enjoys <3

The liminal space of a mall was the place where you could see through a person, like light through glass. You'd get to see what stores they prefer to go to, what mall food they like to eat (or if they can't), what they buy vs what they don't.

Or sometimes, as is the case with you and your weird, pseudo-freudian stepbrother-boyfriend Leon, you just get boba and mess around.

There were other things you'd like to do with him, sure. Sometimes you two would catch a movie- or fuck each other until you're both sensitive and whimpering (as young lovers often do). Really depended on the day.

But it was earlier in the morning and it was a free, clear Saturday, in the haze of a temperate spring. And, the last couple of days were kind of stressful. Keeping up separate social lives, exams, dealing with your shared parents- sometimes just being apart from each other was okay.

You were starting to suspect something in Leon. You didn't know what it was, really. Everything was in a haze with him- truer emotions he always hid behind something snarky and barbed. And since you could never really get an accurate read on him, you could only try to squint in the dark and decipher the signs in front of you.

Still, something foundational was shifting. And there was a strange feeling in your stomach that had been there all morning, and it wasn't bad, per se; but it was constant and unusual. You sipped on your boba and started chewing.

You and Leon were both sitting on public benches. The time was before most of the retail shops started setting up, only the food court was open. You laid your head on Leon's shoulder and closed your eyes while you both soaked in the sun's warmth.

The mall was bright and quiet, not many were there yet. You still felt a bit sleepy, but it didn't seem like Leon minded resting either. There was a difference in the emotions you feel someone going through when you rest your head on their shoulder- and the way Leon's was giving into the weight of your head spelled relaxation. The both of you spent a bit of your morning like this. You lifted your head and glanced at how the sunlight reflected off of Leon's golden hair. How it also cut a shadow at the curve of his jaw.

"You wanna walk around?" You asked with your voice low, not wanting to disrupt the quiet, alive whirring of the building. Leon looked at you, smiled a bit and nodded his head before getting up.

When you caught up to pace with him, you decided to annoy him and cross pinkies. He retaliated by taking hold of your entire hand, and you tried not to make a big deal about it. Your heart was starting to beat really fast, though.

You thought he would let go after a couple of seconds. He didn't.

Exiting the first floor common area to the escalators surrounding it, you both enjoyed the warmth of a second floor perch. Leon hasn't let go of your hand yet, but you were joking around about other people you were seeing at the mall, or the vaguely strange sale ads you'd see posted on windows.

It was light, conversation felt easy for once.

And then Leon saw something, and you watched the way his eyes captured a glint of absolute mischief.

Your eyes followed the laser point focus of his- and oh.

Oh.

A photo booth.

And before you knew it, the distance between you and the box was already halved from Leon practically yanking your arm off. It didn't hurt, so all you could do was laugh.

Walking up to it, Leon already got his wallet out and was feeding the machine bills. You decided to slip in and look around inside. All photo booths look different- this one was pretty new and sparkly.

Not long after, Leon swept the curtains and stepped in with a mean smirk. You got yourself ready, trying to make yourself look alright while Leon selected to start through the menu.

You always felt a weird sort of anxiety in photo booths. They never gave anybody enough time to actually prepare for a photo, but Leon was already doing someth- "Hey-!"

He quickly stepped behind you, caged you in his arms, gave two hand horns, and made such a twisted face he actually did kind of resemble the devil, because in his heart of hearts, Leon S. Kennedy was a dork.

You decided that if he was going to suffocate you with all the muscle he was trying to show off, you were going to get a picture of biting it.

The bite wasn't too hard, but the quick noise that Leon gave was mostly out of being startled anyways. He quickly retaliated by flicking your arm before posing for the next-

"Let's do a nicer one," you interject, quietly and quickly. You both prepare and in time, you're smiling together while Leon has his arm draped over your shoulders. It all happened so quickly and concisely that the warm feeling you got in your stomach from all the affectionate, silly, friendly contact was delayed.

The countdown started again. Leon almost shoved you in front of him, but instead of putting his arms over your chest and neck and face, (being annoying about it), he placed them gently over your waist. And then when the camera flashed, he was kissing your cheek.

You turned around in his arms, not really caring about the photos anymore. But he was the one that leaned down and kissed you gingerly, and with meaning. His lips were always so soft and smooth against yours-

The camera flashed. You two were together a little longer, and then you both separated. It was a few long seconds where time just stopped, and you could swear that if you opened the curtain and tried to find one of the rare morning pedestrians of the mall, they would be left unmoving.

But all you could do was look at Leon. It didn't help that he was so pretty. But there was this weird flash of emotion in his eyes, that same one you couldn't read and he wasn't looking away-

The camera flash made you both jump a little, and then Leon gave a quiet, nervous laugh to himself that sparked yours. He looked at you again, an upward pull of his lips that didn't seem too mean anymore. "Better get those photos,"

"Yeah," you offer back, already leaving the booth. He followed you, and not long after, the booth started to give out a noise before producing two copies of the same strip. Leon quickly snatched them before you could even hope to grab them, and he held them out of your view after that.

"Leon," He was snickering. That pretty smile he hasn't dropped for 5 minutes now has had its teasing quality reapplied. Irritation quickly bubbles back up in your throat.

"Ugh, Leon, you-" He does that little shit older brother thing where he lets the strip creep just into your reach before yanking it away a couple of times, but he doesn't do it too much. He gives you one of the copies after starting to giggle at you.

You shake your head, ready to be embarrassed at your own face or maybe even his, and- well, the first photo has you laughing. Your head is tilted backward and your eyes are closed, and the laughs pour out of your throat like smooth wine.

"Leon you're such a dork,-"

"Oh ok! And we're not gonna talk about the absolutely feral thing latching itself to my arm-,"

"Noo~, we're not," You interrupt teasingly, and you take a look back at the pictures. The air swiftly changes from playful, easy and teasing to meaningful, endearing- kind of tense in a way. Leon looked beautiful, and you looked nice too, and now you just noticed that Leon is right behind you actively gauging your reaction.

The third photo was almost too sweet and intimate to look at publicly, and you could feel the tips of your ears start to heat up. Leon's face is mostly obscured, sure, but the way you react to why it's obscured is so sweet and genuine it kind of embarrasses you. Your lips try to hide a smile and your eyes are cast downward and away from Leon- low, but not closed. One of your arms rests on the lean coils of muscle wrapped around your center, while the other reaches up for your hand to rest on his head.

The fourth makes you inhale a little sharper, and you can now feel the high part of your cheekbones heat with your ears. Leon's chin is resting on your shoulder now, and you can't even imagine the shit-eating grin he must be wearing on his face. Well, both of your faces can't be seen by the camera, if that's any consolation to your poor, heated skin- you might melt ice at this point.

You don't know why it has you so weirdly dizzy, but maybe it's the way Leon looks so boyish, almost soft kissing you. His head is so slightly tilted, and the way his body curls around yours is just so engaged-

The fifth one is sweet in a different way. It makes your heart instantly crackle and spark for hope, which any sort of tired rationality your dopamine abused brain has left is probably screaming at.

There's that fear in your chest, but there's no denying the fact that there's a light glimmering in Leon's sea glass eyes that you haven't seen from him too many times.

It's a look that makes your entire body feel warm, like your skin is being pricked by needles. At this point, you've stopped looking at the photos altogether and buried your face in your hands. It makes Leon's chin lift off your shoulder, and you hear a chuckle come from him, but nothing sarcastic.

"C'mon, stores are opening soon, weirdo," And when he says that you realize that there's warmth behind his words. You lift your head and look at him, and he's scratching his nose but- is he blushing too? Oh.

Oh.

He is.

Probably not as scorching hot as you, but still. He starts walking, you start walking with him. And then, he takes your hand like that entire thing just didn't happen, and you find that you can't really stop smiling. Even if you reduce it to the smallest pull of your lips, it's still on your face for a while longer.

#leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #stepbro!leon s. kennedy #stepbro!leon s. kennedy x reader

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darkdemeter · 1 month

Text

NOT FOR SALE

✘DARKSIDERS FILED CLIPPINGS | Horsemen x Female Watcher!Reader

NOTES 🗯️ ↳ Ha! I forgot that I posted this clipping on AO3.

────────────────────────

As a keen observer over the Horsemen, it is your duty as their watcher to keep them in line. To ensure that the siblings don’t meddle in causings of trouble. That nothing that they do conflicts with the Council’s standard beliefs.

But half the time, it’s them that watch over you. After all, you are rather comparable to War in regard of your age, even noted as maybe being younger than he is. And because of your lack of experience in the realms beyond the Council, it’s not entirely surprising that an encounter with the demon trader, Vulgrim, is an advance taken as something of an offence. His arrival had been hauntingly forthcoming, springing up from the serpent hole with a vigour of green mists that reek of the foulest smells the void has to offer. Humans were fortunate that the smell of souls was something beyond them – an invisible odour – however that fortune didn’t extend to beings like yourself and that of the demon before you.

“Greetings, Horsemen,” he purrs wickedly with a bow of his horned and cowled head. “It has been quite some time since we last… exchanged business.” A wide, lipless mouth full of fangs contort into a gruesome grin and his beady eyes shrink further into a thin fashion of perverted intrigue. His taloned hands clink together with a merchant’s contemplation. The plotting thoughts of a bargain and demise.

The Horsemen in your so-called charge each have a past’s moment of reflection with their own dealings with such a loathsome creature, and each of them held little to no absolute soft place for the trader. “What do you want, Vulgrim?” Death finally rumbles beneath the pale shell of his mask, amber eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I merely heard your approach and thought it best to lend my wares… for the right price, that is.” Vulgrim’s answer is nothing but trouble, his tone is low and venomously tricky, laced in a cocoon of self-gain and hungering profit.

Then his eyes turn to you fully and his attention is absorbed. With a noise akin to a feral infused growl, he reaches a hand forward, finger just catching the fainted wisps of hair atop your head. His nose – or the hole where one should be – drags your scent inwards. “Your Watcher would most certainly do,” he coos with a dark, throaty chuckle, fingers rapping against his worn and bony palms. “That scent… so young… so spectacular!”

You shrink away behind the Horsemen just as his clawed fingers attempt to reach for you again, to curl around you and drag you forth into his grasp. Both Strife and War can feel the intensity of your shadowed form quivering behind their backs. “She’s not for sale,” War says with a hardened glare and snarl. Strife then interjects quickly with a tilt of his head, “And that’s a whole new level of creepy, man.”

The soul trader appears to sigh in his agitated disappointment but is swift to conceal it. “Very well, be puppets to the Council at her hands, but that is not my concern. Now, I trust you have… other souls to trade then?” “For information of the demon tyrants,” Death attends to clarify sternly before any form of transfer can be complete. Vulgrim nods with an exhale passing the decayed gums between his fangs. “Of course.”

With a confirming nod, you watch the whirlwind of souls come to, their screams are hollow and faint at first before they’re consumed by the merchant, his hunger a sight that churns the pit of your stomach awfully. To think of those souls, be them the innocence of humans, the holy of angels or the evils of demons; all are absorbed into the maw of Vulgrim.

“The troublesome band of demons you hunt passed through this barren wasteland only days ago. They make their way to their den… to slumber… to regain themselves before their next traversal.”

Fury steps forward with a pearly glare, the steel tip of her heel buries into the crusty dirt beneath her unspoken threat. Her hand is idle, but it looms dangerously over the hilt of Scorn. “Where is this den?”

Vulgrim rumbles deeply and the sound echoes to the point it shakes you, and you fearfully dare to peer between the towering shoulders of War and Strife, only for your eyes to meet Vulgrim’s. His grin is still present and terribly wicked. “Are you sure she’s not for sale— aggh–!”

Vulgrim claws at the coiled chain wrapped around his neck and that threatens the thread of his own soul, Fury’s temper flaring behind her growl, “The den!” “Fury, stand down,” orders Death. His sister scoffs at the order but eventually relents and Vulgrim tends his fingers to the assaulted area, like a mangy hound licking its plague-infested wounds.

“Not too far from here. A day’s ride that a-way.” He points in the direction of East before he gauges the Horsemen’s reactions. Indeed, none of them were flinching in their resolve. You were nothing of a trading chip. Unsellable. With a less formal exchange of farewells, your group ventures in the direction Vulgrim directed. You feel his eyes on you as you pass, a whimper trembles in the chasm of your hollow throat when you hear him sharply inhale again, fingers snagging hold of the shadow curls of your hair, but not for long before each of the Horsemen make to unsheathe their weapons upon him, he’s quick to slink some distance away from you.

“Ah, ah,” Strife tuts gruffly, finger plucking at the trigger of Redemption. “As we said, Vulgrim… she’s not for sale.”

Death’s words were meant as a warning to be heard once. If the Horsemen so much as found him leering at you again, then they’d have a less civil encounter the next time. For their little watcher, a silent ghost of them, is not for sale.

#headlinesxcomics publishing #darksiders fanfiction #darksiders #darksiders x reader #female reader #darksiders death x reader #darksiders strife x reader #darksiders war x reader #darksiders fury x reader

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mafaldaknows · 1 year

Note

Kylie and timothe are allegedly getting married next year. Now tell me how is thios PR and how he's still getting his cherry popped by Armie Haammer. And I want a logical explaination, not some cult guru shit about believing in love and all that nonsense.

Hello, Anon:

Let’s stop for a moment and consider what the word “allegedly” means.

It seems to me that an unfortunate by-product of our social media culture is that people conflate allegations with facts, to the point that all anyone has to do these days to make something true in many people’s minds is simply to say it somewhere on the internet. It doesn’t even have to be “official”.

Allegations are not facts. Speculation is not confirmation. Hypotheses are theoretical. None of these things assumes itself as the truth, but merely introduces a starting point for further discussion or investigation in order to discover the truth about something.

So why bother to come to my inbox to ask me what I think about something that you already seem to think is true? It seems to me that you don’t need my validation. And don’t worry, Anon. I’ll spare you the cult guru shit about love.

Because what’s love got to do with it?

It takes at least two years for people to stop being on their best behavior around their romantic partners, so making a lifelong commitment to love, honor, and cherish someone in less time than that is a serious gamble, and seems highly unlikely in this case, assuming that at least one of them still has functional critical thinking skills, and isn’t in the habit of setting their life on fire without first contemplating the consequences, as most reasonable grown adults do, especially when making such a major, life-altering decision like getting married to someone they barely know.

What’s ironic to me, Anon, is that if you wanted me to agree with you, this would be a good spot to give you some cult guru shit about love. Because I believe that there are some people who know right away that they’ll love someone for the rest of their lives. But they tend not to need a team of managers and publicists, and constant, chronic, random no-one-asked-for-it-but-here-it-is-anyway press attention to prove it to everyone on the internet, in order to seal the deal. Lovers just love, no press required.

They only just allegedly met this spring. One year’s time is most likely not enough time for them to know if they’re suitable life partners for each other, if they intend to stay married, especially if they’re not even “official in private” and only “casual” at this moment in time, depending on how their insider source is feeling that day, depending on which way the wind blows, even when no one asked. It might be helpful for someone on their PR teams to keep track of what their insider source is telling the media on an hourly basis on an excel spreadsheet or something so they’re at least all on the same sheet of bullshit.

If it happens, then mazel tov to the happy couple, and let’s hope there’s a prenup, to keep things simple when if it falls apart.

As for popping a cherry, that’s a one-shot deal. Once in a lifetime. You might want to brush up on your idioms, Anon. 💥🍒💥

However T & A chose to define their connection to each other is no one’s business but their own. I’ve said this time and again. And who T sleeps with is also none of my business.

How T chooses to share his business that’s nobody’s business like nobody’s business is the larger issue, imho. The fact that T&K’s presence together has become ubiquitous in the media has now made it my business, like it or not.

Selling their relationship seems to be the point, and that’s the part I struggle with. It’s difficult to see the truth of their alleged love story when it’s so deeply embedded within such an obvious PR sales pitch. Even if they’re madly in love, that doesn’t change the fact that they’re also using each other as a means to an end. Famous people marry each other all the time without ever having to ask one to commodify themselves for the sake of elevating the other’s image.

Unlike some other relationships, however, T &A do not make it their business to make it our business to know their business, every damn day, for months on end. So I have no idea about the status of their relationship; romantic, platonic, doesn’t matter to me, Anon. But I can still be hopeful and watch for signs, with both my feet firmly rooted in reality.

Only time or Tim will tell.

Thanks for your question. ❤️🧿☺️🍒👀

#hello anon #it’s business baby #cult guru love shit #what’s love got to do with it #commit and commodify #a means to an end #isn’t it PRomantic #always be closing #can’t knock the hustle

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