#it was great no cars I was like walking on the street and stuff

[maretriarch]

nothing "beats walking"

[gigagasp]

God is putting me through trials LMAO

[luveline]

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"You're Peter?" you ask. 

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?" 

"Not so, you know. Daunted." 

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 

"Oh, you think so?" 

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 

"Let's get you to the car, baby." 

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 

"Home." 

"Together?" 

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 

"Thank you," you say shyly. 

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 

"You're my boyfriend?" 

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 

"You want to get married? To me?" 

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 

"We did?" 

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 

"I love you," you say quietly. 

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 

Which reminds him. 

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 

[nadvs]

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Fever (Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac Choso x f!Reader)

SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

8k words. A curse with a strange and intimate defense mechanism has done something to Choso, with Shoko busy with more pressing matters, his healing becomes your soul responsibility. And like any good, young doctor, you're willing to do anything to help your patient. ao3

not, not made while listening to Disease by Lady Gaga.

Warnings: (This is a SEX POLLEN fic, which always carries a degree of dubious consent, I feel I have clarified a lot of of the grey-er areas, but if that is not your thing, this is your heads up, see you in the next one <3.) Sex, premature ejaculation, kissing, oral (f receiving), probably a lot of really dumb sounding attempts at medical jargon, smoking, discussions of ovulations/menstruating, Virginity loss (choso), BLOOD, some scent stuff, feelings and some stuff about conception. Choso is pretty pathetic, but i feel like you probably knew that.

When you woke up this morning, you could feel it. That dull, barely there ache in your lower back, telling you that your cycle was nearing. You weren’t the best at manually tracking your cycle but you had enough lived experience menstruating that you knew the sign posts. Brushing your hair and washing your face, you found your skin was smooth, any dullness you would have usually fussed over seemed to have righted themselves and been replaced with a bouncy, full glow.

When dressing, you found your breasts felt fuller, filling out the cups of your bra, almost to the point of spilling. They felt heavy, the lace pressing against your nipples for a sweet sting. Your hands stayed holding your breasts, tracing your areolas softly, sucking in a sensitive breath. A glance at the clock tells you there's no time for you to rub one out before you have to leave for work. But you feel a tingle of excitement knowing you’ll come home to your vibrator and whatever naughty media you can get your hand on. There’s supposed to be a new sexy, vampire show your friends hushedly told you about. Maybe tonight? You have a bottle of red you've been waiting to open, why the hell not! Some wine, maybe a long bath….your eyes travel to a candle on your nightstand. You can light candles for your own masturbation, right? Wow, you’re quite the romantic. 

The excitement of your evening of solo pleasure carries you through the rest of your morning routine. You pour yourself a coffee, you make sure to grab an umbrella, the forecast predicting rain for the next few days, and double back to plug in your favorite vibrator(s) before heading out. As expected, it's already drizzling, light grey clouds spilling their contents all over the city streets. The cool fall air wets your face, but you don't mind. You had gotten yourself a bit worked up inside, so it was nice to have something to bring you back down to reality. You still had a full work day ahead of you. Your walk to work was quick, a subway ride even quicker, the manager that met you with a car to carry you the rest of the way to Jujutsu Tech was punctual and polite. She was pretty new, a young woman, probably not even 25, but she was a great driver, and made a few jokes here and there that made the usually long drive feel clipped. Arriving at the school, you were quick to thank her and head inside. She was cute, you found yourself thinking as you turned away from the car. 

Young and funny, a sweet face, a good body, how old did she say she was again? 

Oh geez, whats going on with me? 

You shake the inappropriate thoughts from your head, and mark the doorframe as your own compartmentalization threshold. Within these walls you must remain an absolutely iron clad professional.There can be no mistaking it, no distractions, and no anticipation. Students pass quickly to their classes or from the breakfast lines, some wave or bow in greeting at your pass. You're quick to return their gestures. You make your ways down to the hospital floors, making a quick stop by the lounge to refill your coffee. The school grounds took on many purposes, education, training, treatment, triage, conference, protection, archival, morgue…etc. Your business primarily took place on the lowest levels, being the medical wing, the labs, and the morgue. You never had the chops to go into the field after your graduation from Jujutsu High School. Opting instead to apprentice under Shoko Ieri, the reverse cursed technique wunderkind, just two grade levels higher than you. The absolute chance of a lifetime. She was a terrible teacher, truly awful. Too genius to make her lessons practical. But thankfully you weren’t some talentless schmuck, you could hold your own against genius. You learned fast, were excellent with your hands, and eventually Shoko brought you in full time as her second in command. If she was the head of surgery, you were the school nurse. Where she was tasked with reviving fallen sorcerers and performing bizarre autopsies, you mostly reset broken fingers and administered stitches. 

This last year had not been kind to your practice. Far too many familiar faces meeting you in the chilly, sterile basement morgue. Shoko was taking on more and more…experimental (?)  projects. Ones with more weight, more stakes. Especially now. Which meant you held things down more and more. But once you reached the stainless steel double doors leading to the main hall of the medical wing, you knew she was here. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and the lilac perfume she swears covers it. The first exam room light was on, the door cracked, white light seemingly unbroken between the hallway and door frame. The light never changed down here, it was as steady as the tile, and just as cold. 

“Shoko?” You peeked around the cracked door. 

She was prepping the room; someone was coming in. Her words spilled immediately as though they had never had a beginning, she had simply always been talking. 

“Big one coming in. Associate Manager just called, they’re on their way back. Apparently it’s nothing broken or bleeding, but they couldn’t explain any more than that. Go figure.”

The possible orders of procedure began listing themselves in your brain. Shoko exited the room and you followed closely, her heels and yours clacking together in perfect time. 

“Choso, the half curse from Shibuya. Apparently something hit him, or bit him?” Shoko wasn’t often without the right information so her irritation was growing at every reminder, “whatever, we have his blood samples and the remaining curse womb death paintings, if—god forbid— anything serious needs to happen.” 

Viles clinked against one another as her gloved hand searched the refrigerated cabinet of samples taken from each sorcerer. You wondered whose blood was next to yours in there. 

“Can’t you just…fwoo?” You tried to imitate her stupid circle gesture she always made when trying, unsuccessfully, to get you to master reverse cursed technique. 

Shoko turned to face you, “well that’s just it, I won’t be here. I have to get back underground before anything changes. This is your pop quiz, okay?” 

Finally, the intensity dawns on you. You truly had no way to know what would be coming through those doors. A half second later, it dawns on you that none of the supplies she has been gathering are even for you! Every second you spoke was another second you lost to prepare, valuable seconds. 

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, quickly turning back to the labs, scanning your brain for relevant material to gather. Allergy lists, blood, most recent labs, gauze?? 

“I see you get it now, try and be a little faster if the guy’s dying, okay?” A cigarette has manifested between her lips as she heads down the hallway you had only just entered, “call me afterward and update. Bye!” 

And just like that she was gone, the doors swinging shut behind her, but you don’t see them zip up their seam. You are already turned away and heading back into the lab. Pulling anything potentially useful: pain relievers, antibacterial salves and ointments, gauze, anything you could think of. You didn’t know Choso all that well, but knowing sorcerers was a mixed bag anyway. It often felt the ones you did know, were the ones you lost. But he had been in and out plenty of times in the last month, rounds and rounds of testing with Shoko, with assistance by you. He was quiet, kind of emotional, but a great help to your cause. Not to mention he had been quite the looker. Dark, gloomy eyes, excellent bone structure, a body that looked carved in marble. You quickly chastised your body for wasting valuable seconds even thinking about anything except preparing to help save his life. 

 His strange position as both a half curse and a turn coat made him even harder to anticipate. His blood wouldn’t likely be the problem, as it is nearly entirely regenerative. How would that work for infection? Before you can wonder too much, the subject of your mystery arrives with his smaller, too grizzled looking younger brother in toe.

“I don’t know what happened! I’m really sorry, he looks like he’s going to faint. But he walked all the way here. He won’t let me touch him.” 

There was blood, but only streaming from the amorphous block shaped marking across his face. It was hard to tell what shape it had taken on, his face was so flushed. He was panting, the glowing blood spilling into the floor, seeping into this clothes, onto Yuji’s shoes. 

“It’s okay, Itadori. Did he get hit with something or by someone?” You kind of sheep dogged Choso towards the exam table with Yuji’s help, finally getting him to lie down, which caused him to ground and sit back up. 

“This big weird curse squirted some goo or some gas or something on him, but it looks like it sank in, I can’t see where it even hit him. Its was like POOF! And then like nothing! And then…” Yuji’s voice was high and shaking, he sounded every bit the child he was, it was easy to forget both how young he was, and how novice he was to the world of jujutsu. 

Choso groaned again, shifting uncomfortably, rolling onto him back and then his side. You watched the concern wash over his younger brother’s face all over again, big brown eyes unable to look away from his ailing brother. You placed a hand on the top of Yuji’s back. 

“Are you hurt at all?” 

He shakes his head. 

“You did a great job getting him here, Itadori. He’s in good hands, I promise you I’ll do my best to get him right as rain, okay?”

You weren’t completely sure, mystery curse-related ailments were more Shoko’s jurisdiction, but if she trusted you, then you must be more than capable!

“You should head back upstairs, get some rest. I’ll have someone bring you when he’s ready for visitors again, okay?” You have an easy, warm smile, hoping to soothe his anxieties. 

Whether it worked or not, you couldn’t tell. But Itadori nodded, and giving one last look to Choso, turned to head back upstairs. Looking back down at the writhing man on your exam table you weren’t sure how to start, it seemed like every muscle in his body was tensed. He had to relax before you could begin any kind of testing. He was too flushed, his blood pressure, even for him, must be skyrocketing. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Choso, do you know where you are, can you hear me?” 

He nods wearily, not uncurling from his core. 

“Choso, do you think you can sit up, for me?” You attempted, bringing your hands close to his back. 

“Don’t touch me!” He barks, heavy pants follow. He rolls completely onto his side away from you, groaning. You can see  the line of sweat drenching the back of his shirt, “I’m sorry, but-- please, please don’t touch me.” 

“Okay, can you try and sit up?  I have to assess you so we can figure out how to make it stop.”you urged.   

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t start to move, he stays still, fully tensed, desperate pants through gritted teeth. You watch the sweat bead up at the back of his neck, those beads begin to fall and merge together, falling under the collar of his shirt. You moved away from him, getting an instant ice pack from the refrigerator, breaking it, and feeling the cold spread across your hands. Returning to his back, you wrap the cold pack in a thin towel, taking in a breath. 

“Don’t.” He gasps out, “please, just hand it to me.” 

You were shocked he was still so aware of his surroundings. Against your wishes you passed him the cold pack, his hand snatches it from you without making any contact with you. You can barely see his face, but you see the muscle in his jaw pop as he pressed the cold pack to his forehead. 

“What are you feeling, Choso? I can't stop it if I don’t know.” You don’t mean to sound so irritated when you say it, you aren’t irritated, you’re worried. 

“Hot. Really hot.” He sighs, moving the cold pack to the side of his neck. 

“Okay, and did it start right after you made contact?”

“What?” 

“Yuji said a curse attacked you, it had some kind of defensive response, and it put you into this state? Do you have any idea what kind of curse it may have been?” You were gaining your confidence back, steeling yourself against the immediate shock that had set in since his arrival. You were a doctor for fuck’s sake. 

Choso nodded his head, “yes. Maybe? I don’t know, I blacked out. It was out of it for a few seconds and then Yuji was shaking me.” His breathing was starting to even out, maybe he was calming back down. 

“Okay, and that’s when the fever started?” You couldn’t yet place what the cause of the fever would be. Some kind of poison? Or venom? 

Choso nodded, another groan, pulling him further, prone on the table. He seemed to hate this position, choking out a gasp as he pushed himself up and sat up facing away from you.

“Choso if you’ll just let me take your vitals and a blood test I can probab—-“ you reached out and touched his shoulder. 

His body shivered, he let out a long, low moan. 

He didn’t have to tell you to not touch him, you pulled your hand back so fast you lamented your reflexes had never been so sharp and would never be again. 

He was frozen, you were frozen. You came back to yourself first. 

“I’m sorry, I know you sa—.” You started to panic ramble 

“You should go. Please go.” Choso’s hands gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went from tan to pink to white.   

This was too much, he needed help now, the cold pack had melted completely, faster than you had ever seen, no longer offering its menial relief.

“Choso, I’m your doctor, I can’t leave you. It’s my duty to help you. Please just be honest with me about what you’re feeling, and I can help. I promise I’ll do everything I can to help.” You began to curve around the table to face him. 

His neck was red and wet, muscles straining underneath like angry snakes. He can’t meet your eyes, his mouth is open, panting to pull as much breath as possible, lips wet and drooly. You're too busy scanning his face to see the way he covers his lap with his hands as you approach. 

“Please, let me help.” You reach your hand out to touch him, even with your gloves on and inches away you can feel the heat radiating off his body. 

Finally, finally, he looks at you, urging his body upward into a sitting position. His pupils are huge, brown irises having been consumed by two large, desperate black holes. There are tears in his eyes, dripping into the blood on the bottom half of his face. 

“It hurts. It’s so hot, and everything is so tight and sensitive. I can feel…everything, so much, fuck, it hurts.” He pleads, finally crumbling under the agony. 

You nod and start to mentally run through treatments for the symptoms as he lays them out. Your main concern is his heart, it’s used to overproducing and pumping at will, but this isn’t at his will, and this isn’t in his routine. This is entirely unpredictable. You’re in your head when Choso stops talking, he watches you closely, the drool along his bottom lip starting to build into a drip. He watches you, as you think a million miles away from him, but so close. He isn't sure if you have ever been this close, you have checked in on him hundreds of times, helped him through his training, you have always been so kind to him, even with his…less than glowing personal history, brief as it was. He can smell your perfume, he had smelled it before, soft and light, but this was something different. It smelled so much stronger, sweet and full, enticing, hypnotic. 

“You smell different.” The words leave him before he can even think better of himself, and once he does the words can't stop, “Good. You smell good. Really good.”

He leans closer to you, pulled in by the smell coming from your neck. You don't stop when he comes closer, he doesn’t stop himself when he presses his nose against your neck and inhales. Your body goes completely taut, you can feel the tip of his nose on your neck, you aren’t sure what to do.

“C-choso?” 

One of his big hands moves your hair off your shoulder, then settles on your waist, he pulls you closer, inhaling at your neck again. His other hand finds your hip and pulls you in. 

“You smell so sweet.” he mumbles into your neck, you can feel his lips move against your skin, “You feel so good.”

The blood from his face was slowing, the mark shaping itself back into a smaller line, you could feel his pulse slowing. The back of your mind flickered alive, a sneaking thought, something you had never imagined to be true, or to be presenting itself now. A defensive countermeasure some high ranking curses employ in order to redirect the attackers focus. Preying upon the most carnal needs, most commonly manifesting itself as prolonged, continuous sensitivity and sexual arousal. You had only ever read about it in the abstract, you never imagined it was something that was still active, let alone could manifest this intensely. Choso’s hands tighten on your hips. Your throat starts to tighten, you are paralyzed as to what to do, the ethics of helping and not helping racing through your mind.  

You press his shoulder, “Choso. Just a second, you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

He pulls back, suddenly, eyes wide with surprise, unsure of how he had found himself buried in your shoulder, how he had let himself succumb to whims that plagued his mind. He felt his throat closing, his heart racing, the heat in his body rising again faster than before. He felt pathetic, like some animal, some curse, that can’t control himself. And to you, who had been nothing but kind and accommodating with him since he first joined. He stands suddenly, putting as much distance between your bodies as he can. From your smell, from the feeling of your skin, from your soft hair between his fingers. 

“I-I’m, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, go.” He heaves out, “I don’t know if I can control myself.” 

“What you're experiencing is an apex aphrodisiac. It won’t end until it has been expelled from your body, which will probably happen over time. But I have no way of knowing how long the effects will last. It could be hours, Choso, days, even.” 

Some deep ache in his abdomen causes him to double, gripping against the counter top so hard you hear the laminate begin to split. 

“I can hook you up to an IV, keep you hydrated and locked in here until it passes, but there’s no guarantee you can last it. Your internal body temperature keeps rising, and without someone here to keep an eye on you, there’s no telling what that fever will do to your brain. Not to mention your heart.” 

He fights your eyes, glaring instead at his hands in front of him, hands that had been attached to you so recently. Hands that burned against any sensation that wasn’t you. He’s swelling between his legs again, it aches, it's hurting, it's dripping onto his leg. He could hear his molars creaking against one another as he grinds them in a desperate attempt for restraint. You approach so carefully, he doesn't notice you until you're close enough for him to smell that intoxicating aura again. His eyes flutter closed, relief beginning to spread through his body, strained muscles loosening just barely. 

“Or…” You stride forward so carefully, not wanting to scare the desperate, hurt animal caught in a trap in front of you, you see his shoulders slide down his back through the damp fabric of his shirt, “I can help you now.”

Choso’s head whips around so fast that the room spins. He worries that this fever may actually be cooking his brain. Surely there was no way you were actually proposing this, he had to be hallucinating. The arousal plaguing his body had finally taken over his mind and shifted  his reality to fit its sick fantasy.  

You nod at his shocked face, trying to stay as even and professional under the circumstances; God, as if there were any chance of that happening. 

“Choso, listen to me, from what I’ve read, the quickest way, and the only guaranteed way to find any kind of repose, is to…” You blush at your words, the impending reality starting to illuminate far too realistically to be called fantasy, “oh god, I don’t know how to say this. By briefly…succumbing… to the urges, it could rid your body of whatever lingering material is causing you to feel this way, or at least offer some alleviation while your body fights the infection. Like scratching an itch? You shouldn't, cause you may open the wound, but it helps you deal with the pain and discomfort.” 

A thousand thoughts pass between the two of you, nothing spoken. He studies you carefully, desperate for any sign of a practical joke, some ill timed faux solution at his expense. Part of him looked twice as desperately for any sign of attraction from you, something that would show him you have felt the same way as him. That you have wanted this, before it became…medically necessary. 

“You think having sex with you will make it stop?” He says bluntly. 

You blush furiously, feeling embarrassed for even saying it, “It may. But of course, it’s up to you. If you want the IV, we can wait it out, you don't have to decide now. If it’s…me I can-” 

“No!” He shakes his head furiously, “no, it’s not you. I mean it is! Fuck, I mean…”

He can barely think, let alone try and string together the way he feels and has felt. The feelings that he never dared to explore. 

“I didn’t want it like this.” He finally sighs out, resigning himself to a seated position on the floor. 

“You…?” You didn't get it yet. 

“I wanted this, you, but I never wanted it like this.” He presses his back hard against the wall, eyes pulled tight together, blood trickling onto the floor again. 

You got it then. You hadn’t known, never even thought that he would look at you like that, that he would hold feelings for you so privately. He had been so quiet, so brief, so polite. Your heart ached for him, he was so sweet, you had always thought so. Even as brief as his time here had been, you thought it was sweet how dedicated he seemed to fixing his mistakes, to training Yuji, to helping the cause. It had crossed your mind, recently even, how handsome he was. Seeing him in this state, entertaining the idea of fucking him, you found you were heating up, yourself. Your legs squeezing together as he lay before you, so desperate for you. 

“I know it's not what you imagined, but I’d really like to help you.” You join him on the floor, looking up at him from under your dark lashes. 

You lean closer to him, he can smell you again, he can see your lips part, he clears his throat “I don’t just want to scratch the itch.”   

You shake your head, “Then let me help you, let me get it out of you. Choso, please.” 

You lean closer to him, you want to help him. The ache between his legs is getting too much to bear, he is too hot, his clothes are too tight, your smell is overwhelming him. Or maybe that's the fever, maybe he’s losing his mind. He scans your face, it's so beautiful. You are the only person he would want to help him. Maybe this was preordained, it was fate that brought him in here to you, so you could help him. So he could finally be with you, if only for a moment. If only once. 

“Okay.” He nods, one of his hands gripping the back of your neck and pulling you in to meet his lips. 

He can’t help himself, he kisses you with every ounce of himself. Every moment of his century in stasis, every ounce of remorse for the people he has killed, every sleepless night ruminating on his place in this world that barely half of him even belongs in. Your lips on his feel electric, sending the synapses in his brain into overdrive. His tongue wiggles past your parted lips, tasting his first of a mouth besides his own. He moans unabashedly at the taste of you.

It's only then that you even think of him being inexperienced, potentially even a virgin. But the time to discuss that has passed, you can barely get air, let alone a moment to talk. His hands are quick to find your bare skin under your shirt. You feel him trembling, his hands shaking as he kneads the flesh of your sides. The taste of him floods your mouth, copper twinged from the blood on his face, but making your lips and tongue tingle with excitement. His hand finds your bra, taking your right breast into his hand and squeezing hard. You cry out, remembering your hypersensitivity due to your own hormone filled body. He pulls off to look at you, heavy blush in his face, spit connecting your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you swallow, “I--”

“You’re ovulating.” He finished for you. 

“How di--” 

“You smell different.” He leans into your neck again, inhaling deeply from your pulse point, “I can smell how bad you need this. Just as bad as me. Your body is begging for me.” 

It was like a switch had flipped, the gentle, polite, shy man who had stumbled in was gone. Choso’s teeth found your neck, just scratching before he licks a long stripe from the crook of your shoulder to behind your ear, he squeezes your breast again, just as hard, making you keen back, pressing further into his hand. He decides he has had enough on the floor. He scoops one hand around your back and pulls you up with him, laying you down on the exam table before him. In a flash his shirt is gone, and you are slower to follow. But you remove your coat and your top, leaving you in your bra. Choso attaches himself to your neck against, biting, kissing, sucking, licking, anything he can. One hand holds himself up above you, towering over you more like, the other tugs at the button of your pants. 

“Have you done this before?” He asks you, just as he gets them open. 

You nod, feeling his hair soft against your face.  

He hums, “You’ll have to show me what you like. I promise to do my best. I’m a fast learner.” 

Your heart nearly bursts at the thoughtfulness, “This is about you, Choso. Let me.”

You finally touch him back, moving your hands over his torso, feeling the muscles straining, the heat from him spreading to you. You sit up, slotting your mouths together again, desperate for his kiss and grab for the tie of his pants. He hisses as the fabric brushes past his throbbing, blisteringly hot erection. Finally you undo the knot and his pants are quick to fall to the floor, leaving him naked over you. His tongue moves across yours, massaging, tasting, combining flavors with you. Your hand blindly finds his cock, you take it into your hand and Choso howls, separating your lips. He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes screwed up tight. You look between your bodies, to where you're holding him between your still clothed legs, just in time to see the last spurts of cum spill from him, and onto the table. You can't help feeling a little disappointed, having gotten worked up yourself, only to have it end before he ever entered you. But you’re quick to push it away, this isn't personal, it was to help him. Choso catches his breath above you, before looking down to meet your eyes. 

“Do you feel better?” You ask, but you aren't able to finish before he kisses you again, his previous passion now turned up to eleven, his mouth is hotter, he pushes his tongue deeper, his teeth clash against yours, his hand returns to your waistline as he moves to keep undressing you. 

His cock in your hand hasnt retreated, if anything it seems completely unchanged, still raging and red tipped. 

“Choso…?” You whimper against his hungry lips. 

“Please, I need more. Please.”He sounds desperate, almost as if he is begging you

You nod and help him out of your pants, uncaring as they slide though the cum and onto the floor below you. Your heels clatter to the floor as Choso scoops you cup and lays you on your back, folding your legs up. 

“Fuck you’re perfect. I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea.” His voice is low enough he could be talking to himself, were it not for him looking directly at your panties, wet and clinging to your swollen lips, “You’re so wet already. You’re so nice for helping me. Thank you.” 

He slides one thick finger along the part of your lips, still shrink wrapped to the soaked cotton, you bite your lip. The mark on his nose has shifted again, back to the black bar you had grown familiar with, just barely beading up at the very edges. The blush on his face and neck has deepened, it seems his blood is redistributing properly again, aside from his cock, which has made no signs of softening. It still throbbed in your hand, which you kept in a steady, tentative rhythm as he explored you further. His finger slips inside the gusset of your panties, feeling the wetness first hand. 

“You’re so warm inside,” He marvels, again, likely to himself. 

He had come across pornography in the time since his awakening. In his journey to understand the urges of his body, and the innate knowledge that resided within the vessel he now inhabited, he had learned about sex, both for reproduction and for pleasure. He dabbled in masturbation, it was hard not to when discovering the body of oneself. He had watched plenty of movies in the brief instances of down time, many of which outlined the inner workings of sexual relationships on an emotional level. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you, writhing and wet beneath him. He explored your pussy further, the nub of your clitoris against the pad of his finger enough to rouse more cum from him, which lubricated your pumps along the shaft of his cock. It was brief, but the second orgasm made him crumple against your leg, pressed against this shoulder. 

This time you smiled, feeling his warm cum slid down your wrist, “Are you always like this?”

You watched him pant his way through the climax as you brought your messy hand to your mouth, licking it clean, and tasting him. He was sweet, how fitting. He watched you feed yourself his cum and nearly gave you more, drool slips from his mouth and down your leg. You feel it slide down your skin, still too far from your begging pussy, you wanted to feel him there, his mouth, his spit, his cock. The taste of him filled your mouth now, you looked over him carefully as he came back to himself. 

He shook his head, answering you, but looked down at you, meeting your eyes, “my blood goes where i want it, as long as i need it there. No waiting, but I don’t usually cum this much.” 

He was so crass suddenly, you felt your pussy clench, aching to be filled by him. Your body had heated so much, the lace of your bra digging in far too tight, your panties now feeling restrictive. Your clit throbbing along with your racing hard, just barely having been brushed by him. You squirm, hoping that he sees how desperately you need him. And you need him, more than air, more than water, more than anything. The room becomes all there is in the universe, only for the two of you, complete privacy, a perfect oasis for him to fill you over and over and over until the end of time. And he was the perfect one for the job, to go endless rounds, no need for sleep or rest, no refractory periods. He could keep you full, used and full. 

It appeared that the curse’s effects were contagious. You would later speculate that when you ingested his cum, some fraction of the aphrodisiac entered and took host in your body as well. 

Surely that must be the case, what else could explain what you said next. 

“Cho, please, I want you to cum inside, please fill me up. I want it inside, Choso please! I need it, I need you. Please.” you begged, you could barely hear your own voice, but you could see the effect your pathetic keening had on him. 

He tore through your panties in a second, your bra was relieved of duty, likely permanently as he seemed to cut through it just by pulling. The exam table’s icy surface seemed to sizzle against your overheated skin, he moved both your thighs over his shoulders, hands under your buttcheeks, using his thumbs to hold you open for him as he licked a flat tongue over your vulva. You cry out, not caring if your screams travel through the basement floors and up to the populated floors. One lick from him has you cumming so hard your vision goes white. He doesn't stop. Kissing and slurping over and over, you're quivering and shaking, but he can’t stop. The taste of you is too much to give up, even for a second. So sweet, so uniquely you, so intimately for him to enjoy. At this point he holds you up by your hips, as though you are attached to his mouth, your legs wrap around his head, you can't do much else but try to breathe through the intense waves of pleasure that he continues to give you with every flick of his tongue. 

“Choso, please!” You finally cry out, “Please, I need you inside. It's too much, please, baby, I need you.” you pull at his hair, hard enough that you’re sure a weaker, more inhibited man would have wailed. 

But he flicks his eyes up at you pleadingly, not wanting to give you up yet. But seeing your desperate, tear stained face, he relents. He lays you back down, allowing you time to cum down as he wipes a hand over his wet face, using your cum to pump his still aching cock. He squeezes the base, trying not to look too closely, knowing he couldn't cum too soon…again. You gather yourself, pussy weeping onto the table below, but already aching for him again. 

“Lay down,” You tell him, moving onto your knees ungracefully. 

He obeys, laying where you just had been, helping you to move over his lap, settling you just above his standing cock. You keep one hand on his chest, the other grips him again and carefully aligns his tip with your gasping hole. You find his eyes again, as if now is the time to reconsider, but he meets them. He gives you a small nod through hazy eyes, his hair is sticking to his head and his neck, the top of his chest is blotchy and flushed, your wetness makes his chin and jaw shine under the light. He looks beautiful, how could you not have seen it sooner, how magnetic and enticing he was. 

“Please, I want to cum in you,” He begs, breaking you out of your admiration, “Please let me give you my cum, please. Please.” He squeezes your thighs, urging you down. 

You sink down slowly, the feeling of finally being connected, sending you both into fits of pleasure. You can’t stop your hips, as soon as they fall fully and meet his, you fuck yourself back down onto him, starting a pace riding him that would normally be laughably advantageous for you. You just cant stop yourself, the tip of his cock kisses your g spot perfectly, fucking even deeper into you than you thought possible, no vibrator or partner you’d had before had ever made you fee like this.The stretch hurt so good, as you moved over him again and again.  

Choso was just as bad, an absolute mess underneath you. He had no idea what he was in for. Your pussy was so much hotter and tighter than he imagined, it felt like his cock would break off, but he never wanted it to end. He could feel every hitch of your breath though the snug walls flush with his dick, he could feel your heart beating, he thought he could hear your blood moving through your body. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, whimpering, whining, gasping, begging you for … more, … or slower, …  or simply just please. 

please. please baby please. more. fuck. yes more. just like that. fuck. please please please please pleasepleaseplease. too fast, it's too much. too much. fuck. please. don’t stop. please please, don't ever stop.  

He watches you ride him, your breasts bouncing with every lift and drop of your hips. He pushes himself up with one hand, using his knees to move you with him. His shift into a seated position pushes him even deeper inside of you. You arch your back feeling him press against your cervix, whining and pulling him closer to you. He brings your breast to his mouth, biting, sucking, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You struggle to ride him like this, but you grind down on him regardless, the friction of his public hair against your clitrois combined with his work on your nipples, more than enough. You aren’t sure how you’ll ever be able to go without this feeling. You paw at his back and shoulder, wanting to keep him close forever. He coos in your ear something unintelligible about just relaxing and letting him take care of you. 

“You’re so good to me, baby. Let me take care of you. You want to be full, right? Let me fill you up. Thank you.” He coos, moving your hair off your neck and letting him return to his new favorite place, your neck. 

He carries on fucking into you, your clit grinding against his pelvis, his lips on your neck, his other hand holding your flush against his chest. You feel your eyes roll back, your kiss along his head, relishing the sound of him going back and forth between whining and praising you. Your skin is blooming, your thighs are shaking, you feel the swirl of building pressure in your abdomen. 

“Cho….” you whine. 

He carries on pumping his hips, grabbing at your ass, digging in his nails. 

“Me too,” He chokes out, bringing your lips to his as he fucks you both to your peaks. 

A vastly different type of orgasm descends upon you both. Profound and all encompassing. His mouth stays on your as long as he can stand it, leaving humid breaths on your lips before he pulls off moaning and tossing his head back. You feel fat tears roll down your cheeks, Choso buries himself as deep as he can into you, spilling shot after shot of cum into you, you feel him pulsing inside of you. He rakes his nails up your sides, sending you trembling. You whine out, Your body swirls and melts into his. He collapses the pair of you back onto the table, keeping himself sheathed inside of you, not allowing any of his cum to escape you.

 You pant on his chest, pressing your ear to where you can hear his heart beating, it's fast, but not nearly the frenzy it was when he first arrived. His big arms encircle you, your bodies feel warm and hot pressed together, but you can feel the chill of the basement air on the sweat of your back, you feel your own heart slowing as you catch your breath. Your own heart rate is steadying as well, at some point the surrounding area had come back into your view, he had stopped bleeding, and both of you felt the effects of the aphrodisiac leave you.  

Choso lies beneath you, feeling your weight against him, feeling your body tremble in his arms, his cock still feeling the quivering, fluttering walls around him, taking his cum, pulling it deeper inside. He was told early on that biological children weren't in the realm of possibility for him, but he already had his family; his brothers, and the ones they loved. But now, with you rested on top of him, he felt sad knowing despite the timing, and despite his efforts, he would never-- could never give you your own. He realized the curse’s effects had lifted, either from time or sweat or exertion they had been exorcised from his body, and with them went his sureness that this had been a good idea. 

“Choso?” You spoke softly, conspiratorially. 

He hummed in acknowledgment. 

“Do you feel better?” You raised your head to meet his eyes. 

He looked down at you, seeing your warm, kind eyes worrying about him. Surely this couldn’t have just been for today?  

Choso nodded, his dark eyes crinkling at the outer edges in a soft smile, “I think it’s over. My heart is still racing, but I don't think that's the curse anymore.” 

You leaned forward, feeling brave, and a bit anxious from how quiet it felt now that the screaming and moaning and panting had stopped. Connecting your lips again, now that the worst had passed you felt no need to hungirly attack his mouth, neither did he. You gave him the sort of kiss you would have given him if he came to you with his feelings and had taken you out. You weren’t the sort of people to be able to go out very often, but whatever date it may have been, wouldn’t have been as successful as this bizarrely unorthodox first encounter. When the kiss was over you tried to move off of him, but he held you down, pumping his softening dick into you once more. You let out a high shaky breath, almost giggling. 

“I meant it when I said I didn't want to just scratch the itch with you.” Choso cups your face in his hand, making you look at him, “I know I’m not your best choice for…someone to be with…I can’t give you a family or guarantee you a future. But I will keep you safe and treat you well.” 

You feel your heart swell at his admission, and more so at the look in his deep, sad eyes, a look that wants nothing more than to be understood, and cared for. 

“Well, I don’t know about forever, but how about after we clean up here. You and I go to dinner and we figure out where to go from here. I like you a lot, Choso. Like, a looooot.”

You punctuate your sentence with a clench of your pussy around him, making him gasp and grip your hips again. You start to laugh and he swats at your butt. 

“I’m serious. After this we have a lot to talk about, but I know that I’m glad we did this.” You suddenly feel shy, despite how bare you have already been. 

Choso smiles again, a contemplative smile, but an honest one, he holds your hips again, “Ready?” 

You nod and move with him as he guides you off his lap, moving to the side so you can lie next to him. He keeps one hand on your waist, not wanting to be parted from you yet. You push some of his hair back on his head, tracing your finger down the slope of his nose, then over his top lip. Choso soaks in everything you give him, sighing blissfully occasionally, so unafraid to make sounds and show you how he feels about you. You're inexperienced with men so open, and so willing to express it abstractly, or at all. You find that Choso makes you nervous, the enigma of his shy, stoic nature, and his desire to be known and understood, compounded with a half curse’s worth of shamelessness. You smile at him again sitting up on the table. 

“I’m willing to bet Shoko has at least one cigarette in here. I know it's a bit cliche, but I can dig around for it if you’re interested.” You stretch a bit, already starting to feel the lactic acid building in your body. 

“I’ve never smoked before.” He shrugs, leaning on his elbow. 

You sit up, not worried about covering yourself and begin rummaging through drawers. You found a pack in the second one you opened, slipped one out and then had to search for a lighter, which proved harder to find. But a long forgotten box of matches sat in the bottom drawer of the desk. Choso watched as you searched, admiring seeing your body in so many shapes, at so many angles. It was so beautiful to see the human form so relaxed and unposed, he had to fight the lump in his throat back down, so as to not disrupt you with his emotion. YOu climbed back up to the table and lit the small, thin cigarette. You inhaled and blew out a plum of soft grey smoke before passing it to him. He followed your lead, feeling the smoke slide down his throat, burning on the way down. He quickly exhaled, not wanting the taste to overpower yours on his tongue. 

“Not for you, huh?” You took another drag. 

He shook his head, “Maybe another time.” 

You hummed to yourself, taking in the room around you. Choso had no interest in the room, only to watch you leisurely inhaling and exhaling. He thought that all the movies he had seen had gotten it wrong, that while he didn’t know exactly what it was he was feeling, he knew that no one could have ever felt like this. You turned back to him, another beautiful smile coloring your face. 

“There is a locker room down the hall, we can get cleaned up.” 

“Together?” He reaches for you. 

“Sure, Cho.” You leaned in and kissed him again, your fingers under his chin tilting his face up to you. 

You got up from the table, haphazardly draping your coat around yourself, avoiding as much of the cum that had pooled as possible. You offered him his, mostly, unstained trousers. Which he shuffled in to. You discarded the cigarette and hung on the door, turning back to face him. He was still watching you, picking up left over clothes, brushing his sweaty hair back. 

“Coming?”You flirt. 

He feels his face heat up and nods, watching you leave down the hall. He grabs the last of your discarded clothes, replaying the events of the last few hours in his mind. 

“Cho…” he whispers to himself, a little celebration, before following you down the hall. 

Your evening with your vibrator was long forgotten as you made your way to the locker room, with something far more enticing catching up closely behind. 

I hope y'all enjoyed!!! I really hope i can keep this moment going and get out some of the ideas i have had over the last two months! Cause i've been thinkin big thoughts!!! I cant believe there are almost 200 of us on here, I'm so flattered and grateful! Thanks for indulging me with this one. Love you, see you next time! -- Doodle. <3

[urfavlarry]

hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏

Awkward Situations

Joost Klein x artist!reader

summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring

genre: fluff!

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“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.

You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.

You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.

In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.

It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.

You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.

“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.

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[santaasi]

raison d'être

pairing: james potter x shy!reader

summary: james potter never thought that the most terrible day of his life could give him a new reason for existing

warnings: muggle au, fluff, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m alive!! but i feel like with all my uni and graduating stuff i just lost inspiration. but i promise that very soon there will be more fics! love u all. have a good time readings my new work <з

JAMES POTTER HAS NEVER BEEN A LOSER. On the contrary, his life has always been like an endless lottery win. Ideal and loving parents, who provided him with everything he needed and supported him at every step. Friends who were always there for him even in the worst. A perfect career in sports that was only going uphill every day and promised to take James to new heights. James Potter was a golden boy who always seemed to be surrounded by a halo of luck. In all his twenties, he didn't know what failure and lose were. Troubles avoided him and it was something familiar to him. That's why when everything went wrong on one of the most important days of his life, James was taken aback.

It was one of hundreds of other summer days when the weather in London was pleasing with its sunshine and warmth. And that was the day James Potter overslept for the first time in his life. And it would be fine if he was late for training or a regular meeting about plans for the week, but… James Potter overslept and was late for a meeting with their future sponsors, who would decide the fate of the team and its entry into a more perspective professional league.

But apparently this was not enough for fate (if it ever existed). The fate decided to mock James more by taking all his luck and replacing it with failure. Because as soon as he left the house and got into the car, it didn't start, although last night, when he returned from another get-together with Sirius and Remus at the bar, everything with his car was fine. He had to ride in a completely packed bus, breathing in sweat fumes and feeling someone's elbow dig into his lower ribs. By the time he got to the bus stop, the air in his lungs was starting to run out. And besides all that, James had to walk the long way to the sport base to protect his ass and buy coffee for everyone at the meeting, to pretend that this was what he had planned from the very beginning. It was Sirius's plan, which, to James' great surprise, sounded really good for the first time in what seemed like forever. But instead of going to the usual café on another street, James ran into a new coffee shop, which was right next to the sports base, which decently helped to shorten his time.

A bell rang over James's head as he entered a softly lit, bright space with a couple of tables and guests who were sitting here, working and drinking pleasantly smelling coffee. For a very recently opened place, the coffee shop probably really had a lot of popularity in the area. James covered the distance from the door to the cash desk in a couple of steps and opened a dialogue with Sirius, quickly rattling his order to the barista, whom he did not even deign to look up at.

"’m sorry, could you repeat the order more slowly? This is my first day and..." you whispered softly, biting your lip uncertainly, and James looked up. His gaze is full of anger, which made you swallow a lump in your throat.

You've never been good with people. Large crowds scared you, and even with your close friends you preferred to message rather than call. But when life shook you up and the deadlines for paying for college were already burning, you had to get over your fear and be interviewed at a new coffee shop near your house, where an employee was urgently needed. A week ago, you were over the moon when you were accepted. The job didn't seem difficult and learning the basics of barista work was even interesting, and most importantly, the customers were all friendly. And you even have a hope that working with people won't be so bad. But as soon as you were faced with James Potter's eyes full of irritation, all hope for something good immediately disappeared, replaced by fear and nervousness.

"Or... or I can call another more... experienced specialist..." you began softly, stumbling through the words.

When James Potter entered the café, he was really annoyed because of the plans that didn't go the way he wanted. But as soon as his gaze meet your frightened doe eyes, his face immediately softened and all the emotions that he had experienced before faded into nothing but pure adoration.

You were beautiful. No. You were lovely. You looked like a small frightened deer that has met a hunter in the forest. Innocent. Sweet. Elegant. James Potter didn't know that there were perfect people in this world, but looking at you, he was convinced of it. His world seemed to stop for a second, concentrating only on you and on awkward lowering of your stunning eyes and how you bit your lip and how your thin fingers was nervously fidgeting with the bottom of your apron.

You cleared your throat and said something. James didn't hear it. He was consumed by you. He wanted to get to know you. Beautiful pictures were already playing in James's head, like movie stills of how he would ask you for your phone number and how you would smile and hand him a crumpled tissue, which he would, of course, keep all day as the apple of his eye. He has already imagined your date. How he takes you to one of those silent film festivals that were taking place in London right now. How you will chat for days on end without thinking about anything. How at the end of the evening he will take you home and slightly bending down, the distance between you will be reduced, and then…

As soon as you turned around to leave, James immediately fell out of his fantasies, quickly trying not to let you leave. He reached across the counter and grabbed your wrist, forcing you to pay attention to him again. But as soon as he realized how uncultivated he was by violating your boundaries, he immediately took his hand away, stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans, guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor. It was not typical for James Potter to blush, but he could feel the heat rising up his neck, scorching his cheeks.

"Um... sorry... I-I can repeat the order," James said nervously, and you noticing his change of mood and awkwardness relaxed a little, listening attentively to his order once again.

You quickly handed him the check and asked him to wait next to the pick-up counter, smiling sweetly, which made James's heart skip a beat. He nodded wordlessly and swallowed, still feeling the tingling in his hand where your fingers touched his skin.

Waiting for his order, James couldn't take his eyes off you. Everything in him screamed that he should come up and ask you out or ask for your number, as he had done hundreds of times.… But he couldn't... something was stopping him. And so when his name came off your lips (he didn't think that his own name uttered by someone could make him almost faint) and you handed him a bag with his order, all he could do was whisper a quiet "thank you" and leave the coffee shop without even turning around.

He spent the rest of the day as if in a dream. James was sitting in a meeting trying to concentrate on the important things, but all he could think about was your smile, which made his heart skip a beat. At practice, James was also distracted, as if hearing your sonorous but soft voice everywhere, the memory of which made his body goosebumps.

James Potter spent the whole day in a daze until a bell rang above him and the door closed behind him with a thud. The cafe was empty, the chairs were raised on the tables and the one who completely confused his thoughts stood with her back to him, quietly humming some remotely familiar song playing on the radio. You slowly swayed your hips, moving backwards, mopping the white tile floor until your back hit James's hard chest. You suddenly screamed loudly and turned around, covering your mouth with hand in shock. James ran a nervous hand through his hair and frowned slightly.

"Sorry, I thought you were still working, I came in... to buy something to drink," James quickly rattled on one exhale, meeting your gaze.

You blinked quickly a couple of times, trying to move away from the shock that you experienced from an unexpected meeting with a visitor. In him, you immediately recognized the guy James, whom you first dubbed the last jerk that came to ruin your first working morning, and then you noticed how cute and sweet he was when a blu sh appeared on his cheeks and immediately melted away.

"No, no, we are still working... there were just no visitors and I decided to start cleaning early… But you can order... it's okay," you assured him, giving James a soft smile before turning around and standing behind the counter, putting the mop aside.

James looked at the menu carefully, and then at you. There was silence in the coffee shop for a couple of seconds, and you felt your cheeks start to burn from the piercing gaze of his coffee eyes. You slowly lowered your gaze, trying to hide a silly smile.

"What do you recommend?" clearing his throat, James asked without taking his eyes off you. He wanted to stay in your company as long as possible and get to know you better. At least for a little bit. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Hmm... I'm not a big fan of coffee," you thought, looking over your shoulder at the menu. "That's why I would recommend herbal tea with raspberries and mint..." you nodded, concentrating on the guy standing in front of you again and smiling. "Well, it's also my first day and I'm not sure I can make you a good coffee... so tea would be the safest option," you joked, biting the inside of your cheek.

James laughed hoarsely, throwing his head back and you shyly lowered your head, hiding the blush that became even brighter on your cheeks. James was the epitome of what the perfect man looked like in your fantasies. Slightly curly hair, warm brown eyes that when he smiled seemed to be able to warm the whole world and round glasses that brightened his face and gave him even more charm. Such a handsome guy must have had an equally beautiful girlfriend. You thought, but quickly pushed these thoughts away from you. He was just a client, you shouldn't have worried about these issues.

"Then I'll have tea... yeah... I'll have tea with raspberries and mint," James said, calming down a little, adjusting the rim of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, which had slipped off.

You nodded and turned away, brewing James your favorite tea, making yourself one cup along the way. He was lost in thought again, watching you do your job carefully and with concentration. Your finger was slowly sprinkled with herbs, mixing them with mint leaves and dried raspberries, along the way he noticed how you brought the herbs to your nose, inhaling their fragrance and gently smiled to yourself. You looked more relaxed and peaceful than you did this morning when James scared you with his impetuous words.

"Herbal tea with raspberries and mint for James," you announced the order as if there was someone beside the two of you, and James smiled brightly at you.

His hand lingered on yours for a couple of seconds longer than necessary, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster in your chest. There was not enough air in your lungs, and it was only when James took the cup of tea from your hands that you were able to take a ragged breath that did not pass James by. The guy grinned, sipping a drink from his mug.

"Wow, this is really good! I like it," James said enthusiastically, looking right at you. His brown eyes seemed to look straight into your soul, and you swallowed nervously again, licking your lips, feeling how for a second his gaze dropped just below your eyes.

"Thank you..." James tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you expectantly.

You said your full name softly, and James seemed to echo it, tasting it. You were quickly caught again, feeling your fluffy eyelashes tickle your cheeks. James shook and lowered his head, trying to hide his spreading grin. Apparently, he was not the only one in this cafe who was fascinated by his interlocutor.

"Well, thank you for the delicious tea. See you tomorrow, love," he winked at you before leaving the cafe.

The endearing name came out of James's mouth so easily that for a second you were taken aback, standing rooted to the spot behind the cash desk with your mouth open, like a fish jumping onto dry land. But at the last moment, a quick goodbye escaped your lips, more like the creak of a door, and the ringing of a bell announced James's departure.

Through the big window, you watched him walk slowly along the street lit by lanterns, smiling like a madman and slowly sipping his tea, and something jumped in your chest.

You put your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beating hard against your rib cage, and then wrapped both hands around your cheeks, which pleasantly cooled your heated skin. And the only thing you could think about, standing in an empty coffee shop, looking at the door through which James came out, was that the barista's job might not have been so bad. At least as long as James appears in front of you, it definitely won't be bad.

And in order to see him again tomorrow, maybe you'll switch shifts with Marlene.

But only 'maybe'.

thankx for reading <3

for the first time in month, I had so much fun writing these one shot. so I hope you enjoyed it too. you can always share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[rainroses45]

My Niece is a Goldfish?

۶ৎ description: Imagine when Dean goes to go pick up Sam from college, not only is the news of John being missing brought up but another little surprise was on its way. Dean Winchester x fem! reader ۶ৎ a/n: I have like 4 different incomplete stories in my notes app rn and I'm just so lazy because who the hell wants to read my garbage when people want smut but oh well i tried…not my best not my worst idc (Not edited) ۶ৎ song inspiration: Back to the Basics - Lana Del Rey ۶ৎ Warnings: ZIP ZERO NONE NADA

“Woah dude, why is there a car seat in the back?” Sam stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the floral pink booster.

Dean had just broken into his apartment like a serial killer in the middle of night, dragged Sam out into the street after somehow convincing him to join him on trying to locate their dead beat father, and now there is a missing infant.

“Great.” Sam thought, “Dean caused an Amber alert.”

“Shit!” Dean scurried to the impala, hoping - no, praying that his brother developed cataracts or something. “I told them not to leave the car.”

“Them?!” Sam followed Dean around the impala. “What are you talking about?!”

“I told her not to leave,” Dean angrily said while dialing your number, “and what does she do,” he puts the flip phone to his ear, “she leaves.”

“Dean,” Sam walked over to him, still being completely ignored, “hellloooo??” He waved his hands in front of his older brother. “Who are you talking about?”

“Pick up, pick up,” Dean ignore him, anxiously tapped his thigh looking around, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, and your voice to answer.

“Okay if you are about done now with your little tap routine, I’m going back-“ Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt pulling him back like a dog on a leash.

“They couldn’t have gone far-” He shoved the flip phone in his pocket, frantically searching the area with worried eyes. “Dean let go man…” “You take that direction and I’ll check this side, maybe if we..”

“Dean, sweetie did you find Sam?”

And is if the lights from heaven sent a giant satellite beam on you, Dean turned around blindly searching for your voice.

“Oh my dear cream of tartar where have you been?!” Dean flared his hands down looking at you like you’ve been missing for months.

“Okay what the actual fuck is going on?” Sam was close to just throwing his duffle bag at the window, heading back into bed, and taking a melatonin.

Dean waved him off unfortunately to his demise. “Not right now bowl head I just saw all of my lives flash before me.”

“You’re such a baby.” You commented. You held what looked like to sam a tiny sack of potatoes with a pink blanket covering it from the winds.

“Does that mean I get to-“

“NO!” Both you and Sam scream - both for different reasons but the same sense of warning nonetheless.

“Okay can someone explain to me what is happening right now?”Sam ran his hands through his hair desperately trying to contain a forming headache from all this mojo of chaos.

“Well my dear Sammy, while you went off to college I decided to adopt the brady brunch- what the fuck do you think happened?” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance walking over to you and the baby.

Sam now able to adjust his eyes realized the sack of potatoes turned out to be a little baby with the rosiest checks ever.

“I didn’t think you would end up with child.” Dean groaned at Sam’s comment.

“What are we the England Monarch? No of course I didn’t plan on bringing a baby into this world but stuff happens..” Dean trailed off, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Sam on the other hand was having a whole mental gymnastics session trying to figure out how the hell things changed so fast.

“How is my little precious princess doing,” your husband pulled the blank down gently to see his daughter’s beautiful eyes peak out. She had the same sparkle and shape as yours to the point he could even see the tiny hew surrounding the pupil - she was beautiful.

“Sorry for leaving sweetheart,” you said to Dean, watching his cute reaction to his daughter gazing up at him. “She was getting fussy in the car waiting so I decided to take her on a little stroll.” You moved her down to your arms, cradling her into your chest.

“Would it have killed you to answer the phone at least?” Dean sighed as the rate of his heart finally matched his breathing.

“Sorry my phone died.” You knew your husband would be worrying about you but by the time you thought to call, you phone screen turned black with a red battery sign on.

“That’s okay just- I don’t know, shoot a flare gun or something just please don’t leave without telling me.”

“I won’t.” You smiled. He in return left a soft kiss to your check and a butterfly kiss to your daughter. She smiled at her father’s touch, making you both smile back; hearts so full with love, before the moment was ruined.

“So I have a niece?”

“No you have a pet goldfish, suprise!” Dean sparkled his hands around annoyingly, if he had known picking up his brother would be this tiring he might have just let Sam be stuck in his cob web filled books. . “How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”

“That’s enough Dean,” you snickered as your husband rolled his eyes. “I think it’s nice to see you again Sam, although on different circumstances would have been nice.” You walked towards the impala, Dean already opened the back door for you as you hopped in with your little princess.

“Wow I just- I never took you as a father figure,” Sam looked down shocked, “I mean I didn’t even see you as one to settle down - no offense Y/n.”

“Umm very much taken Samuel.” You had been dating Dean since you both were 15, so to say he wouldn’t stick around after the shit show of high school was highly offensive.

“Everyone buckle up,” Dean readjusted his review mirror starring at you, as you buckled in your seven month old daughter. His whole life in the back of his car.

Sam clipped in his seatbelt, “Soooo am I going to have to interrogate the baby for answers orrr..”

“This is going to be a long car ride.” You smiled as Dean groaned.

“Well it all started when…”

[w2soneshots]

Glitter -W2S

words: 0.6k+

warnings: jealousy.

summary: Harry doesn’t like glitter but when he sees you putting some on Chris at the eras tour he changes his mind.

notes: hey babes! I’m not a swifte and don’t know loads about Taylor Swift but I hope I did this request justice🫶🏼. Enjoy!!🤗🎀

Liked by wroetoshaw, faithloisak and 893,012 others

y/username: T Swift baby!!!🩵

Tagged: @wroetoshaw @chrismd10 @theobaker

-comments-

taliamar: HOTTIE🥵

chrismd10: glitter for dayyyzz

y/nfanpage21: the makeup's lookin fire😚🤌

user56911304: w2s confirmed swiftie??!!

"Oh Harry, come on. It's just glitter!" I was trying to convince Harry to let me put some of my glitter onto his face. "Nah, no, it's messy and annoying." He backed up from my glittery hands. I huffed, though I respected his decision. "Fine. So boring." I turned to finish doing my makeup.

Once I was ready I popped a pot of silver glitter into my bag, along with powder and lipgloss, just in case I needed to touch anything up. I slipped my heels on then made my way into the living room. Harry got up from his place on the sofa.

"You look great babe," he complimented, hands making their way to my waist. I smiled up at him. "Sure you don't want any glitter?" I tried one last time. He huffed out a laugh. "I'm sure, let's go."

We left and got a taxi to Wembley stadium. Harry got a text from Chris just as the car pulled up a few streets away saying that him and Theo were already inside. We walked through a sea of people before finally getting to the entrance.

We scanned our tickets and made it inside without a hitch. "There they are!" Harry said loudly as the stadium was filled with people and very noisy. "Hi!" I exclaimed as we got to our seats right at the back. I shared a quick hug with the boys then got situated.

When Taylor finally came out the crowd burst into excited screams and the intro music began playing. Chris seemed to be extremely excited. Me, Harry and Theo chuckled as we watched his face light up.

y/username just posted a new story!

Around two hours in I reached into my bag to reapply my lipgloss, along with the glitter I'd brought. "Is that glitter?" I heard Chris ask from beside me. "Yeah, want some?" I asked hopefully. He nodded eagerly.

I reached my finger into the pot and dabbed some over his skin from his temple to his cheekbone. We were taking as I did it and once I was finished I turned back to my bag to see that Harry was looking at us.

"You okay?" I asked, brows raised. He shuffled slightly. "Uh- I changed my mind, can I have some?" He gestured down to the pot in my hand. I smirked. "Jealous are we?" I teased as I did the same to him as I'd done with Chris. "No. Just realised it looks cool," he replied nonchalantly. "Mhm, sure." I giggled.

I was extremely pleased that everyone was now sporting silver gitter and I was glad Harry had given in. We all turned our attention back to the stage.

The concert lasted just over three and a half hours. By the end my voice was practically gone and my feet were killing me but I'd had so much fun. It took an annoying amount of time to get out of the stadium though.

We parted ways with the boys and Harry held my hand tightly as we rushed to the uber we'd booked prior, trying not to bump into people as there was a large crowd outside.

The traffic was awful on the way home and I ended up drifting off, my head resting on Harry's shoulder. He helped me inside when we finally arrived outside of our apartment and we both fell into bed.

The next morning we woke to glitter spread across both of our pillows. Harry groaned. "This is why I hate that stuff." I chuckled groggily. "You looked hot though babe."

[ersharyzst]

the prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react.

This is open for all by the way, I'll be linking the invitation and the fic.

"Is this how it's supposed to look like?" I asked Xavier who was also looking at the coffee table we are assembling.

"It looks like it." He said and I slowly turned my head at him and sighed. "Let's test this table now. Put a water bottle on the it."

He did what I asked and I only blinked for a second before the whole thing went collapsing. We both groaned in annoyance.

"We spent the whole morning doing this. Dang it. I'm hungry." Xavier nodded and grabbed his wallet along with my hand.

"Yeah, we should definitely eat something now. What time is it anyway." Xavier said as he checked the time and he looked at me sheepishly. "It's already past 12."

We were walking to a bakery near our apartment while we are talking about our work at the hunter's association.

"That wanderer was really tricky but my team managed to take it down so woohoo." I laughed a little and Xavier opened the door for me like a gentleman he is.

There wasn't a lot of people inside the bakery. So ordering for our food was really quick. Xavier's arms is wrapped around my shoulders while we choose some croissants, macarons, garlic bread and iced coffee.

The bell on the bakery rang and I smiled at the attendant taking our order. I turned around to find Xavier and I's seat but I was shocked to see Zayne behind me.

"Doctor Zayne." I exclaimed in shock.

"It is nice to see you here, Yesha." I can almost hear the cold edge teetering in his voice. Is he... mad? Zayne cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Why don't you introduce me to your companion?" Zayne asked.

"Ahh, yes of course. I don't think I have introduced him to you yet. Doctor Zayne this Xavier, my coworker and my friend. Xav, this is my primary care physician, Zayne." I saw Zayne's eyes twitch a little before returning back into his stern face.

"Nice to meet you, Xavier. She's talked about you a lot. I'm glad to finally meet you in flesh." They both shaked hands.

"Well, how about we all share a table. Are you dining here, Zayne?" I asked and he nodded once. "Yes, I'm on my lunch break right now."

"Great. Xavier and I will find a seat."

It did not take us long before we found a seat near the window. The sun isn't as blaring as it would be and it feels so nice on the skin.

Zayne came to the table with our orders and he sat on the opposite of mine and Xavier's seat.

The time passed by like a blur and we talked about anything under the sun. Well—Xavier and I, of course—I tried to make Zayne engage with us but his response was precise and he just nods. Our lunch was finished in less than an hour.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Doctor Zayne. I've heard lots about you and I'm glad to finally meet you. I don't want to be rude, but I need to go now." Xavier said and he stood up, grabbing all his stuff.

"What? Why? What happened? Is there an emergency? A wandere?" I asked already preparing myself to fight.

"Okay, darling. Calm down. Jeremiah just needs my help on Philo. I'll be back before midnight." I nodded and I shooed him away. "Oh? Is that so? Then what are you waiting for? Get the heck out of here." Xavier laughed softly as he went out of the café.

Once Zayne and I are the only ones left in the table, I fiddled with my hands before looking at him. "Sooooo, uhm, let's go?"

Zayne nodded once again before pulling my hands gently yet his hold on me is firm. He dragged me to his car parked on the other side of the street and hugged me really tightly.

"Your friend was rather clingy." I felt him stroke my hair. "It's just how he is." I replied softly.

"He called you darling. And you haven't been answering my texts since morning." I gently pulled away and I looked at my phone.

"Oh, Zaynie. I'm so sorry. We were so busy fixing that wretched coffee table I didn't know." I bit my lips guiltily.

"And you introduced me to him as your physician. Not even a childhood friend." I pressed my lips together after he said that. I could feel the accusing undertone he laced his words with.

"Well, I mean... You are technically my primary care physician..." Zayne gave me a glare before sighing. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just didn't want people to able to spread lies about you."

Zayne massaged the bridge of his nose and patted my forehead. "I already missed years without you by my side because of my solitude. I do not want to lose you now, Yesha. Other people are the least of my concern at this moment."

I looked up at him with my teary eyes and I gave him a tight hug. "I'm sorry for denying you, Zayne." Zayne chuckled and he cupped my face before wiping the traitorous tears on my face.

"Maybe I'm just jealous but could you please refrain from being handsy with your friend, Xavier? It makes me want to encapsulate him in an ice block. And that's so rude." I laughed before kissing his cheeks. "Yes, Zaynie"

Author's note: This is my first fic that I posted here and I hoped I did well. I also think this is kind of ooc because it's a self insert but I hope it's still good. I just let my hands do whatever my brain wants and here it is. Thank you for reading this and thank you for the invitation, nikaaaaa.

tagging @jinwoosbabyboo.

[ilythena]

Request: Jack and Luke go to an animal shelter to adopt a pet (cat or dog, which ever is your favorite) and Jack falls for the adoption counselor that helps them pick out the perfect pet

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM after Luke begs Jack to get a dog, he ends up lucky in more ways then one.

Fem!reader, straight fluff, no warnings! Kinda short tho, tbh I got too interested in Luke begging Jack for a dog 😭 req are open so don’t be shy to send in some, almost done w a lot of them just gotta find time to post em <3

♪ DIAMOND BOY - SZA

“Can you just hear me out-“ “no.” “Please! Just one!”

Sitting on the bed in Jacks room of their shared apartment, Jack throws his head back with an irritated groan. “Luke, I’m not going to keep arguing with you about this shit. We can’t have a dog. Who’s going to watch it? And clean up after it? We’re both professional hockey players and have zero time for an animal.”

With a pout, Luke hesitates before speaking again. “I’ll clean up after them! And I’ll spend all the time with them!” “Luke no. We have a game tomorrow. Go to bed.”

“Why am I even asking! I’m a grown man. I’ll just get one and bring it home.” “I wish you fucking would.”

Luke storms out of Jacks room and heads to his own. Immediately getting on his phone and ranting to Quinn about his problems, Jack turns his body and sighs.

“…what’s going on with the Hughes’?” “Apparently Jack said no to a dog. Luke’s not taking the rejection well.”

The two brothers glare at each other from across the locker room, Luke tightening his laces and Jack grabbing his stick. He mouths an ‘I’m not changing my mind. No dog.’ And Luke huffs before walking out.

“…..well, he’ll get over it soon.” Nico says, patting Jack on the back and he just frowns. “Why is he so insistent on a pet all of a sudden? I mean, you understand why I’m saying no right?”

“Yes, I understand. But I can also see his side. You two will come to a compromise eventually. Let’s not worry about this stuff and just focus on trying to win the game tonight, okay?” Nico says and with a nod, both boys walk out of the room and onto the ice.

Everything was going well at first, Jack had even scored a goal! But it’s like this week just wasn’t on his side. The opposing team began crushing them after the first quarter, swiftly taking out their team with a score of 3-1.

On top of the crushing loss, it was pouring rain outside. And his umbrella broke, which meant he had to walk in the rain, with his brother who’s mad at him, after he loses a game. Great.

Both boys get to the car cold and covered in water—not a word spoken between the two. Luke closes his door shortly after Jack does and it’s pure silence between the two. Jack starts the car and turns the heat up to the max before driving off and making his way home.

“Hey luke?” “…yeah?” “I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed out and honestly I don’t think it’s good for us to be arguing over something so stupid. Maybe we should get something to eat-” bark! Jack’s eyes snap over to Luke and suddenly it feels like the car is at 100 degrees.

“What was that.” “What was what…?” Bark! Comes from Luke’s side of the car once again, this time Jack can faintly see something moving inside of his jacket.

“Luke.” “….listen! Do you see how hard and cold it it outside? Poor thing would have freezed to death out there!” “I told you no dogs!” “Look at her!”

Luke pulls the small puppy out from his jacket and you can see her shaking. Wet, cold, and obviously very lost.

“…what do we do now?” Jack whispers and Luke doesn’t answer, pulling the animal closer to his chest. After a moment of discussing what to do, the boys decide to just go home and sleep for the night.

“Hi, welcome in… how can I help you?” “We wanna adopt this dog-“ “no we don’t.”

Jack pushes Luke behind him and gently snatches the puppy from his hands, a sharp gasp cutting through the air when Luke feels the shove.

“Oh! Where did you find them?” “On the street, my brother couldn’t help but pick them up.” You gently take the animal out of Jack’s hands and inspect them for a second before looking him in the eyes. “I’ll have to do a cleaning and a check up for them, since they’re very dirty and I want to make sure the dog is healthy before I give them to you.”

Jack glances at you and when you two make eye contact all the anger he had directed towards Luke died down immediately in his throat. He quietly nodded and in less than a second, you were gone and in the back.

Another one of your coworkers came and got their information, and Jack had sat next to Luke in the small waiting area.

“…can we please keep the dog-“ “maybe.”

After what seemed like hours, you walk out with the dog put in a small kennel, handing it to your coworker. “Good news, puppy is very healthy! Bad news, you can’t keep her because she’s microchipped, which means she does have an owner.” Luke groans in disappointment, but his eyes flicker over to another dog playing through the window in a designated play area.

Jack notices this, and after standing there for a while, he speaks. “….are any of the dogs over there up for adoption?” “Yes sir! All the animals on the right side of the building are up for adoption. Are you interested in adopting today?”

“Um, yes.” Luke’s head snaps over into Jack’s direction. “That’s great! I’ll let you two look at the animals, and let me know if you decide to adopt.”

As you walk away, Jack looks at Luke and glares. “Don’t get too happy. I’m picking the dog.”

“Hello Mr. Hughes, how may I help you today?” “Hey. I know this is really sudden, but I think he’s sick! He’s been throwing up a lot.”

Jack drags in a golden retriever, who his brother named ‘Jett’ and he doesn’t look to well. Slouching and obviously very tired.

“Oh no! Here, follow me. I’ll get him onto the inspection table and I’ll check what’s wrong with him.” He follows you down the hallway with the puppy in his arms and sets him down gently onto the cold metal table.

Watching you take a stethoscope and check up his heartbeat and trying to listen into his stomach, his heart briefly stops when you call in your coworker to do an x-ray on the animal.

After getting sent to the waiting room and waiting an hour, his worried face shifts to confusion when Jett quickly runs out the door and in between Jack’s legs.

“So, I thought he had an infection in his stomach from some sort of food, but as soon as I officially set up the x-ray and tried to put him under it, he refused and went from looking sick to looking completely fine. My diagnosis is that he was trying to get your attention by being dramatic.”

Jack scoffs in disbelief and looks down at the golden ball of fur in between his feet, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Wow. So I brought him here for nothing?” “Pretty much.” You try to hold back a laugh but fail miserably, smiling at the animal and preparing the register for his bill.

“Well, at least he’s okay! That’s all that matters.” You say and Jack lets out a brief chuckle before looking down at the machine.

“150 dollars?!” “Unfortunately, He did waste the supplies used to prep the x-ray machine…”

“Back again, Mr. Hughes?” “He was eating grass, I’m concerned he’s sick.” “You said that the last time you came in.”

It’s been about 4 months since Jack officially adopted Jett, and coincidentally his owners been coming into your clinic non stop for those past 4 months.

“I’m just looking out for him, what kind of owner would I be if I just let everything slide under the rug?” He grins and you scoff with a smile before leading him and his dog into a private room so you can “investigate” the problem with Jett.

The happy dog jumps up onto the table and rolls over, making a happy sort of huffing noise when you rub his stomach. After doing regular check up procedures, you can determine that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Jett.

“As usual, there’s nothing wrong with your dog. Why do you keep coming in here when you know he’s fine?” Jett jumps on you and you can’t hold back a laugh when he jumps down onto the floor and stands in a playing position. You open the door to the dog play area and let him out to go socialize with the other dogs that stay in the clinic.

“Maybe I just wanna see the cute girl who works here.” “Well maybe there’s an easier way for you to do that instead of dragging him along with you and wasting your money.” Jack bites his lip into a smile and slowly walks closer to you with his hands into his pocket.

“Does that mean that maybe I can take you out on a date this weekend?” “Maybe it does.” You lean against the counter that holds all the paperwork and files in the clinic and take out a small slip of paper, writing something down on it before shoving it into his hands and walking back into a ‘staff only’ facility.

“ xxx-xxx-xxxx. I’ll see you this weekend, Hughes. ;)”

————————————————————————

I would have added my pink banner BUT I ran out of picture space….. sorry this ended so suddenly, I was struggling w how to end it!

© copyright of ilythena. Do not repost or translate onto any other websites.

[gayvorestories]

How about predator who’s having huge indigestion/belly ache from the person he ate, and he’s struggling very much with hiding his belly because prey is melting much longer than he expected?

this got very long, so I'm gonna have to write a second part another time. I liked this idea, and I thought it would be kind of a hot twist for the pred to get caught and have to eat the person who figured them out. I hope you like it!

Derek sighed and stretched, the warm water of the shower running down his distended, shaking belly. A hot shower after choking down a hookup always felt amazing, and this one was putting up a huge fight.

He sighed and patted the sides of his belly, "hey, shhh, it's okay, you're gonna hurt yourself fighting like that."

The man in his stomach yelled something he couldn't make out, but sounded very angry.

He turned the water off and stepped out, drying off with a towel as he stepped up to the mirror to fix his hair. The smooth surface of the counter was cold as his belly brushed it while he leaned in close to the fogged up glass, making sure to get the part even. He wiped the glass with a towel and stepped back, getting a good look at his stomach.

Derek was 6'11" and built like a brick wall, and his latest lucky meal was a 5'2" twiggy twink he had picked up online. He let out a long burp and gave his belly a rub while he thought to himself, I give him a few hours and no one will know.

He wandered towards the kitchen, his stomach shaking and kicking, and searched the fridge for a beer. When there was nothing in the door he took a deep breath and bent down to check the lower shelves, his meal thrashing as the contents of his stomach went sloshing forward.

Ah FUCK, I forgot to get the beer first!

Absently rubbing the bottom of his gut while leaning on the fridge door, he questioned whether it would be worth an in-and-out at the gas station down the street. The cashier is usually high and it's a weekday... maybe if I wear the baggy hoodie... he was kind sm-

Derek let out a pained moan, his meal had just given him a pretty solid kick. He flexed his abs back hard in response, squeezing his entire core on the man trapped inside until he started to shout.

"Don'tchu fuckin kick me like that again. I can squeeze harder than that, I'll break your fuckin arm. I'm not lettin you out, but I can make this hurt," he said as he gave another mild squeeze with his abs.

He heard a whimper in reply and went to get his big hoodie. Now he needed a beer.

The biggest hoodie in the house barely covered his belly, but it was bulky enough he just looked like he'd had a huge meal if he leaned forward a little. He slipped out, hood up, and tried to quietly slip to his car.

Two steps out, he almost walked directly into his neighbor.

"Oh hey man!"

"Oh, uh, hey Kenny," Derek said, trying not to lose his balance stepping out of the way.

"Really great day out today, it's finally warming up," Kenny said smiling as he turned the key in his apartment door.

"Oh, yeah, yeah it's great. Gotta, uh, go do some stuff."

"You alright man?" Kenny said, pausing before going in.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just woke up late," Derek lied. He felt his meal shift, pushing into the front of his stomach. He moved his hand to cover the spot and turned around quick, unsure how much Kenny had seen, "I gotta get goin, good to see you man."

"Yeah, you too," Kenny said in a slightly different tone.

Fuck I hope he didn't see that.

Derek put his hands in his pockets and walked across the lot to his car, the heavy weight in his stomach starting to weigh him down. He practically fell down into the seat of his car and leaned back for a moment, rubbing his sore belly. It felt like the guy in there had been doing backflips the whole walk, and his stomach was starting to wake up.

He tried to sit the seat up, but was immediately stopped when his gut pressed hard into the steering wheel. Derek sighed, repositioned the seat, and cranked the car. At least my feet reach the pedals, he thought to himself as his stomach gave an uncomfortable groan.

The entire way to the store, his stomach bubbled and churned as the man inside struggled against his waking digestive system. He parked and leaned back in the seat again, patting his gut as it let out a low, unhappy groan. "Buddy you have got to stop moving so much."

Derek got out and walked inside the almost-empty gas station and headed straight for the beer cooler in the back. He picked up a single 24 pack and felt another rough bump from inside. After a long sigh, he reached down and picked up another and headed for the door, only to be see that the previously empty store was now packed with about a dozen people.

He steeled himself and pushed forward. Two people blocking the first aisle, one person in the second but standing in the dead center... ah, I see a path, he said to himself as he slipped around a kid spreading out candy bars on the bottom shelf and counting them. He stepped into the next aisle through a gap between them and had to take a quick step back when two kids running through the store almost ran right into him.

His meal gave a solid nudge against one of his organs and he lurched to the side, bumping belly-first into a display rack filled with individually wrapped muffins. As it tipped Derek tried to catch it, but his newly-weighted stomach knocked him off balance and he lost his footing, hitting the ground alongside it, plastic wrapped sweets sliding across the floor.

Derek was dazed and blinked a few times to get his bearings as he tried to stand, but couldn't quite do a full sit-up.

"You alright, mate?"

Derek looked to the side and saw a hand reached out. The man reaching out was tall, decently built, and had a thick aussie accent.

Oh fuck, he's hot

He took the man's hand and stood up, picking up the stand with his other hand and setting it back where it went.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," Derek managed to put together.

"Yeah you took a hard fall there mate," the man said as he picked up a few muffins off the ground.

Derek realized everyone in the store had just watched him wipe the fuck out, including this incredibly hot man who was now helping him clean up.

Oh no, he's hot

"Y-yeah, just lost my balance there," Derek said as he picked up a few muffins too and set them back on the display.

Unthinkingly, Derek stood up to full height as the man turned around and looked up at him. He froze while putting a muffin back, his mouth slightly open.

"You uh. Glad you're good. Good you're uh, on your feet," the stranger said with a very familiar look.

Derek smiled, suddenly a lot less embarrassed. The man had a handsome face, a thick blonde mustache with dark brown eyes, and the tanktop he was wearing showed off nice arms and a cute beer belly. He seemed so tall from the ground, but now Derek could see he was at least a foot taller than the man.

"I'm uh Joshua. Josh. I'm Josh."

Derek's stomach gave a low grumble as his meal shifted again, rippling the surface of his hoodie.

Josh's eyes widened and Derek grabbed both cases of beer. "I gotta go," Derek said, taking a step forward.

"W-wait!" Josh said, taking a step in front of him, "I uh.. do you.." he started. He lifted his arm and scratched behind his head while he tried to form the words and Derek did everything he could to stop from darting his eyes right to his pit. His stomach let out another groan and the movement under his hoodie was obvious this time.

"Do you want to go to dinner? I uh. Can bring a friend," he said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

It took a second for what he was asking to process, but when it did Derek's eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'd like that."

His stomach let out another gurgle, like water flowing through a pipe, and someone looked over from the next aisle. "I gotta get going though."

Josh took out a pen and wrote a phone number on the side of Josh's beer box. "Just uh. Y'know, gimme a text."

Derek smiled and went over to the line, his stomach starting to pick up in intensity. He could feel it starting to squeeze and fill with juice by the way it sloshed when he walked. He leaned forward to hide the movements under the jacket as he waited for the person in front of him to pay, his stomach making increasingly loud, increasingly wet groans.

The person in front of him took his receipt and looked at Derek as he passed, clearly unhappy with the noise. He put up both cases on the counter and set his card against the chip reader, using his other hand to lean on the counter. The constant weight in his stomach was starting to turn from a dull ache to a steady pain as he heard the card reader beep.

"Keep the receipt," he said as he took the cases and slipped out the door.

...

When he got home, he set both cases down on the couch and kicked his shoes off to the side. His stomach ached and he was ready t-

The doorbell rang.

Oh my god please let me sit, he thought to himself.

He looked through the peephole and saw Kenny. Oh fuck, he saw.

After taking a deep breath, Derek opened the door.

"Hey man, what's up?" Derek said quickly.

"Hey man, can I come in for a sec?"

"Y-yeah, sure, why?"

Kenny stepped inside, "hey, y'know, we've been neighbors for a while, right? I uh, I see stuff. I see guys go in, I see... only you come out. I'm not dumb, I know what's goin on. I know where all the protein for that bulk comes from," he said laughing.

Derek was silently staring down at him.

Kenny stopped laughing and his smile dropped. "Look man, I got stuff in my apartment I don't want the cops going through. You can't be going out all..." Kenny mimed having a bloated stomach and Derek felt a bead of sweat running down his neck.

"All what, Kenny?"

Kenny froze, locking eyes with Derek. He reached for the doorknob but Derek was fast, grabbing him by the wrist so hard it hurt.

"A-Ah! Dude stop, stop! It doesn't have to be like this!"

Derek let go of his wrist and shoved Kenny down the hall. He turned the deadbolt and tossed his sweatshirt on the couch as Kenny stood up and tried to get his balance. He looked up and froze when he saw Derek approaching, the distinct shape of a man still shifting just underneath the muscles of his stomach.

"O-oh fuck. I-is... dude what the fuck."

The man struggled inside Derek's body, kicking and yelling. Derek could make out one word: "run."

Kenny crawled backwards until he hit the wall. When the meal in Derek's stomach gave another hard kick to his kidney, he flexed his abs hard, the vein in his forehead popping out. Kenny's blood ran cold when he heard a sickening crunch.

"Should have minded your own business, man."

Kenny tried to make a dash for the door, but Derek reached down and grabbed him by the neck, slamming him into a wall.

"Here man, since you're so curious," Derek said as he shoved Kenny to his knees and pushed his belly against the side of Kenny's head, "have a listen."

Kenny struggled and tried to push Derek back, but he was stronger than he could have imagined. He grabbed Kenny by the neck again and lifted him to his feet.

"I think his name started with an 'A'," Derek said as he made a strange face. His stomach gurgled and a few seconds later he coughed up a slimy, half-digested wallet. He opened it and looked at the license inside and showed Kenny, "I was right! His name was Aaron." He popped the wallet back into his mouth and swallowed it, forcing Kenny to watch as his throat bulged when it went down effortlessly.

"You know, it's so nice not to have to fuck my meal first for a change. You wanna know a secret?"

Kenny was too stunned to speak and just gasped.

Derek leaned in and whispered in his ear, "do you wanna know a secret?"

Kenny let out a sob and shook his head.

"Well I'll tell you anyway. Men taste so much better when they're afraid. Are you afraid?"

Kenny nodded and let out another sob.

"You should be. I'm going to digest you alive."

"P-please," Kenny said sobbing again.

"It's gonna hurt the whole time."

Kenny panicked and tried to fight back but barely shook Derek's arm.

Derek changed his grip and lifted Kenny by the back of the neck with one hand and grabbed one leg with the other. He put the first foot in his mouth - shoe and all, and swallowed while he grabbed the other foot. He bent Kenny over as he started to drag him in, his knees scraping Derek's teeth.

"No, no no no! NO!" Kenny screamed as he tried to swing a punch. He missed every swing as Derek turned him, forcing his legs to cross as he continued to descend down Derek's throat. He was at his waist and Derek straightened up, speeding up the processes as gravity started to do most of the work.

"You can't do this! You can't! DON'T DO THIS!"

He pushed against Derek's face, but his throat was too strong as the steady pull of his esophagus and hard pulses from forceful swallows dragged him deeper. When he felt teeth on his chest, Kenny pushed hard on Derek's shoulders but he wouldn't budge, and a hard gulp pulled him in so far his arms could no longer bend all the way down.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME, PLEASE!" Kenny screamed as Derek gave another swallow, bringing Kenny's head into his jaws.

"SOMEONE PLEASE! HE'S EATING ME! PL-" Kenny's voice was suddenly muffled as Derek took another swallow, dragging his head into his throat. A few more gulps and all that remained outside were his hands. Derek walked over to the couch before the final swallow and plopped down. He gave one last very difficult gulp and felt Kenny's fingers disappear into his body.

As Kenny's body slipped under his rib cage and into the wider part of his stomach, Derek felt his entire center of gravity change. He pulled the lever on the couch to pop out the chair and leaned back as he felt Kenny's hand slip past the valve to his stomach, sealing him in permanently.

Kenny began to thrash as Derek turned on the TV and cracked open a beer. He chugged half the can and gave his enormous belly a rub. "Shouldn't've gotten involved bud."

Derek leaned his chair forward slightly so he could see over his gut, but after a few minutes of watching Kenny struggle and fight he leaned back again to watch.

He looked over at the box of beer cans and remembered Josh. He reached for his phone and punched in the number, hoping Josh wouldn't block him for calling.

"Hey it's Josh."

"Hey, it's Derek, from earlier."

"Oh, hey, didn't uh. Didn't expect you to call."

"Yeah uh. Well earlier you asked if I wanted to uh. Have dinner."

Derek blushed a little when he heard the voice on the other line laugh softly, "yeah, you feeling hungry mate?"

"Oh, well, I ate a pretty big meal."

"Yeah I remember you looked pretty full when I saw you earlier."

Derek grinned, "I mean I ate again just a minute ago."

Josh laughed, "Twice in one day?"

"Yeah, I didn't think I would be able to but I got it down. I was wondering if you want to come over for uh... dessert."

"Mate I'll level with you, I'm bad at the double-meaning thing, you askin if I want to come over for a good fuck?"

Derek laughed hard, "yeah, pretty much."

Josh laughed back, "alright yeah that sounds fucking great. Text me your address."

"Alright, see you in a bit then."

Derek texted Josh the address as Kenny thrashed in his stomach. He leaned back and finished off his beer, stretching as his stomach gurgled happily.

Part 2 Coming Soon!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Malleus Maleficarum | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), recovering from a sexual assault (heed this warning and take care of yourself, lovie), heeaavvvyyy discussions of Dean's deal/death, canon violence, canon gore, witches and things, an apparent suicide/discussions of it (pls be careful bbies)

Word Count: 5157

A/N: These gifs from @shirtlesssammy are my reason for living

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Now that Christmas was over, Dean wanted to get back to hunting as quickly as possible. He stumbled across a case where a woman’s cause of death had been bleeding from the mouth after all of her teeth had fallen out. 

As a result, you and the Winchesters were posing as members of the CDC to interrogate the deceased’s husband.

Nothing of interest came from you talking to him, but Sam discovered a hex bag under the woman’s bathroom sink; the room she was murdered in. 

“Aw, gross,” Dean whined while you walked down the street beside him and his brother.

“Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned,” Sam explained, picking through the hex bag. He handed it to you for you to examine as well. 

“So we're thinking witch?” Dean prompted. 

“Well, duh,” you replied. “But this is, like, serious witch stuff. Old World black magic for sure.” You ducked down into the car. 

“I hate witches,” Dean grumbled, slamming the door as he sat down in the Impala. “They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere.”

“Aren’t you…?” you trailed off, a smirk playing on your lips. 

“Oh, ew—” Sam chuckled while his brother glared at you. 

“It's creepy, y’know,” the older brother continued, “it's down right unsanitary.”

“Yeah, well, someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton,” Sam added. 

“Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag. So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods,” Dean suggested. 

“Could be anyone, man. Witches are literally the girl next door,” you replied. 

“Great. How do we find 'em?” 

“This wasn't random; someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly ax to grind. We find the motive—”

Dean cut Sam off. “We find the murderer.”

Sam nodded, and Dean pulled the car away from the Duttons’ house. 

*** All you and the brothers could think to do was continue to stake out the surviving Dutton’s whereabouts to see if another attack happened. Sure enough, as Dean pulled into the diner parking lot you’d followed Paul Dutton to, he collapsed to the floor outside of his car. 

Before Dean could stop the Impala, you were hitting the ground running toward the man.

“Check the car!” you heard Dean yell while you tended to Paul. 

You hauled his choking body up from the gravel and positioned yourself behind him to perform the Heimlich maneuver. You knew with a witch after him, this was likely futile until Sam could get the hex bag and burn it. “Sammy!” you yelled. 

“I know, I know!” he replied. 

“Got it!” Dean shouted, and Paul soon stopped choking. 

You let go of Mr. Dutton and turned to the burning hex bag on the ground. 

“You okay?” Dean asked Mr. Dutton. 

“What the hell is happening to me?!” Paul exclaimed. 

“Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you,” the older brother answered sternly. “That's impossible! There's no way—”

“If we hadn't been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now, who wants you dead?” Dean pulled no punches, and you loved that about him. 

Paul explained to you that he’d had an affair with a young woman named Amanda, and he broke it off with her about a week ago. 

Immediately, the three of you set off to the girl’s house; as Mr. Dutton had given you her address thanks to Dean’s insistence.

When you opened the door to the house, though, you found Amanda covered in her own blood on her altar. 

“That's a curveball,” Dean commented. 

With the barrel of your gun, you nudged where you thought the source of the blood was: her wrists. Sure enough, three vertical gashes on each wrist came into view. “Jesus,” you breathed out, wincing in discomfort and a twinge of compassion. 

The smell of rotting food and blood in the room was overwhelming, and it was beginning to catch up to you. You buried your nose in the crook of your elbow to try and get some relief. 

Sam said, “Looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here.” You turned around and jumped back suddenly, startled by the fact that you nearly walked into a rabbit corpse hanging from the ceiling. 

“Oh, god!” Dean exclaimed when he saw what happened. “Fuckin’ witches! Seriously man, come on!”

“Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from,” the younger brother grimaced. 

“Poor rabbit,” you whined. You took out your pocket knife and cut the ropes hanging him from the ceiling. 

“Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em, huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again,” Dean commented. He turned to you gently laying the rabbit on the floor and covering him in a blanket nearby. “And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?! The poor little guy.”

“You know what I don't get, Dean?” added Sam. “If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?”

“Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick,” he shrugged. 

Something about that didn’t seem right to you. “But where’s the knife she would’ve killed herself with? She didn’t alakazam those cuts on her wrists.”

Sam looked under the table Amanda laid on. “I think she’s onto something, Dean. Look.” He pulled a hex bag out from under the table and tossed it at his brother. 

“Another hex bag? Come on!” Dean groaned. He tossed it on the table and took out his phone. “Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?” He held his phone to his ear. “I'd like to report a dead body, 309 Mayfair Circle… My name? Yeah, sure my name is—'' and then he clicked it off. You had been counting to make sure he stayed under the forty-second limit to avoid the call being traced, and were just about to cue him that he was running close on time. 

“Why are witches ganking each other?” Dean continued. 

“I don't know, but I think maybe we got a coven on our hands,” Sam said. 

***

Later that night, you and Dean laid together in your shared bed; fortunately, in a separate room from Sam. 

Dean kissed up your neck back to your lips, and you sighed contently into him. When he began to trail his hand down to your panties, you flinched. 

“What, what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately breaking the kiss. 

“I don't know,” you replied. “I, uh, I haven’t been having any problems recently, I don’t know why this is happening.” Panic began to grip your chest. 

“Sweetheart, it hasn’t even been a year yet. I’m not expecting you to be completely over what happened to you,” Dean said. His understanding was frustrating you, for some reason. 

“Dean, you only have a few months left,” you huffed, sitting up to face him. “We don’t have time for…” you gestured to yourself, “this! I cannot fucking believe the timing of this, man. And I’m fed up with it!” You got up from the bed and began to stomp around in your tank top and underwear. “I can’t have sex with the guy I’m in love with who’s gonna die in fucking three months because of some asshole that decided to rape me right around the same time you made that fucking demon deal.”

“Whoa, why does it sound like you’re angry with me?” Dean questioned, getting up to join you across the room. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I’m just—” you ran a hand through your hair and sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m pissed off in general. I- I don’t wanna keep… doing… this.” 

“What do you mean ‘doing this’? Don’t tell me—” 

“No, Dean, no. I’m not breaking up with you,” you assured him. “I don’t wanna keep freaking out on you when we try to have sex. And I don’t understand why I can’t— I mean, we’ve had sex since then! I don’t fucking—”

“(Y/N), (Y/N), baby, slow down,” Dean said, gently grabbing your wrists. “Listen, it’s okay! I’m not upset!”

“I know you’re not, but I am,” you sighed. “And before you ask, I have no idea what you can do to help. I’m just pissed.” 

Dean sighed, looking a little puzzled. “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“I’m sorry this is happening to you,” you responded. “I mean, it’s your last fucking year on earth. I’m sure you wanna fuck, like, all the time— I know you, dude, don’t look at me like that— and my fucking vagina and body are out of commission because I can’t get out of my own head. And, god, I wanna fuck you so bad, but I just… I don’t understand what’s wrong with my body.” By the end of your rushed admission, you were crying. 

“I’m not gonna let you talk about yourself like that,” Dean replied gruffly. “No fucking way. There’s nothing wrong with you, dammit. I’m not upset with you! So let yourself off the hook, please! Practice getting out of your own head with this, okay? It’s fine. We can just… go to bed. It’s okay.”

“You sound upset, though,” you said meekly. 

He turned back around to you. “I’m upset that you’re going through this; not with you. It takes everything in me every day not to hunt that fucker down for what he did to you.”

This pulled a small smile from you, and you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in your chest. “I love you,” you told him. 

“I love you, too,” he replied easily. 

You pulled away from him. “You do?”

“What?” he smirked down at you. “I’ve said it before.”

“I know, but you always seemed, like, pained when you’ve said it before. You didn’t that time,” you grinned lopsidedly. 

“Yeah, well. It’s never pained me, you’re just the first person I’ve ever said it to,” he admitted. 

“Aw, Dee.” You pulled him against you, hugging him tightly to thank him for his understanding. 

“Shut up,” he growled, pulling you closer with his arms wrapped around your waist.

***

The next day, the boys decided you would be the best person to subtly interrogate the women you’d determined were friends of Amanda’s. In fact, the four women had a book club they’d formed over the last year or so. 

With a casserole in hand you’d bought from the supermarket, you walked over to a woman named Elizabeth who was gardening. 

“You’ve got quite a green thumb,” you said. 

“Excuse me?” she questioned, turning around to you. 

“These herbs, I mean. Growin’ ‘em out of season like this; it’s impressive,” you noted. “Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Christine Nicks. I just moved in a few houses down.” You held the casserole out to her. 

“Oh! Thank you,” she replied, brushing off her hands. “So, uh… how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s nice!” you paused, feigning thoughtfulness. 

“What is it?” she questioned. 

“Nothing, it’s just… I heard about this girl who… committed suicide? Just recently?” You watched her reactions to your words carefully, and her expression subtly changed when you mentioned the death. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed. “Amanda was her name. She was, uh, a friend of mine.” “Really? I’m sorry to hear that,” you told her. 

She nodded. 

“Elizabeth? You all right?” you heard a voice ask from behind you. 

Y0u turned toward two other women who’d walked up. 

“I'm fine, uh, Renee, this is Christine. She just moved into the neighborhood,” Elizabeth introduced. 

“Pleasure,” the woman named Renee said. “Renee Van Allen.” She drew her name out as if it was supposed to be of any importance to you. 

You eyed her curiously. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you. Were you… friends with Amanda, too?”

Renee seemed surprised by the fact that you knew about the deceased. “Yeah, we all were. It’s been really hard for all of us.” “Yeah,” the other woman spoke up. “I mean, you think you know a person.”

You nodded. “Well, it was nice meeting you ladies. Have a nice one!” You shuffled away, keeping up your girl-next-door character even as you faded from their view. 

***

Later that night, you and the brothers drove down a darkened road. 

“You should’ve seen it, guys. Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake— and she flinched when I mentioned Amanda’s death,” you explained. “I’m sold on Elizabeth at least. 

“Well, she's definitely had a good run lately,” Sam added, reading through something he’d tabbed in a notebook, “gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with.” He continued, “I don't think she's alone either. Looks like 'Renee Van Allen' has won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.”

“Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh?” Dean chuckled. “Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven you met back there, minus one member.”

“Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What do you think, they killed her to keep up appearances?” Sam questioned. 

“Definitely an ‘appearance’ kind of crowd,” you noted. 

“If they killed the nut-job, should we, uh, thank them or what?” Dean questioned, quirking a brow. 

“They're working black magic, too, Dean. They need to be stopped,” Sam replied simply. 

“Like, ‘stopped’ stopped?” you prompted, intrigued to see what Sam’s answer would be.

Sam looked at you as if to say, “Of course.”

“They’re human, Sam,” Dean reminded his brother. 

“They’re murderers,” he stated. 

“Damn, I’m proud of you, Sammy,” you remarked. 

Dean’s eyes flicked to yours in the rearview mirror. You could see the smirk pulling at his lips. “Burn, witch, burn.”

Suddenly, the Impala stuttered and choked, the headlights flickering. 

“What the fuck?” Dean questioned.

The vehicle stopped in front of a figure standing in the road. 

“Ruby,” Sam breathed out. 

You grabbed the Colt from your duffel bag. 

Sam had gotten out of the car before you and Dean, and you nodded to Dean in silent communication as you stowed the Colt in your jacket pocket. 

“Sam, listen to me,” you heard the demon saying, “there's no time.”

“For what? What are you talking about?” Sam questioned. 

“You have to get out of town.”

Within your jacket’s pocket, you aimed the Colt at Ruby. 

“Never had the pleasure,” Dean deadpanned.

The blonde ignored Dean’s flippance and cut her eyes at you. “Whatcha got there? Just happy to see me?”

“Sure,” you glared. 

“Point that thing somewhere else,” Ruby instructed. 

Dean laughed coldly. “Yeah, right.”

“Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back,” Ruby begged the younger brother. 

“Why? I don't understand,” the brunet worried. 

“We can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks,” Dean commented. 

“I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores,” she spat. 

“Can’t argue with you there,” you muttered. 

“I'm talking about who they serve,” the demon finished. 

You were confused for a moment, but it soon dawned on you. “Demons.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah. And there's one here, now.”

“Oh, what, you mean, besides you?” Dean barked. 

Ruby continued to ignore Dean, which you could tell was beginning to aggravate him. “Sam, it knows you're in town, and it's gonna come after you, and it’s way more than you can handle.”

Dean turned his attention to his brother. “Oh, come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!”

“Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him,” Ruby cooed without looking in his direction. 

“Watch your mouth,” you warned, cocking the gun. 

“Guys, look, just chill out,” Sam pleaded. 

“No! No! She's messing with your head; god knows why, that's who they are!” the older brother answered. 

“I'm telling you the truth,” the demon insisted. 

“And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch.”

“I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!” 

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank!”

Ruby scoffed. “Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?”

“Shut up,” you hissed. 

“At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it any more,” she replied, ignoring you. 

“I said, shut up!” you screamed. Just before you could fire at her, she disappeared. 

You turned back to Dean and Sam, who were both looking at you strangely. Sam looked like a lost puppy, and Dean just seemed angry at this whole interaction. You just stormed back off to the Impala. 

***

Back at the motel, you and Dean joined Sam in his motel room to find out what exactly had been going on with him recently. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean questioned angrily, stomping into the room behind his brother. 

“What?! What the hell was I thinking?” Sam shot a glare at you. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you answered. “She’s a demon. We can’t trust her, man. They want us dead; we want them dead.”

“Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? Dean didn't want her dead,” Sam argued. 

Dean took the opportunity to defend himself. “Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook.”

“No one's stringing me along!” Sam declared. “Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she's useful.”

“No! We kill her before she kills us,” Dean said. 

“Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?” Sam scoffed. 

“Whatever works.”

“Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives.”

Dean headed over to the sink to turn the water on and splash it on his face. 

“Look, we have to start looking at the big picture, Dean, start thinking in strategies and– and moves ahead,” Sam finished. “It's not so simple, we're not— we're not just hunting anymore. We're at war.”

“Listen, I agree with you to some degree,” you sighed. “I’m just not sure how much I like the idea of working so closely with a demon.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Dean asked his brother while he dried his face off. 

Sam sighed. “Why are you always asking me that?” 

“Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. Y’know, it used to eat you up inside,” Dean reminded him. 

“Yeah, and what has that gotten me?”

“Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the fucking car and fucking argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.” Dean rubbed his stomach with a grimace. 

You looked at your partner in concern as he moved to sit on the bed. 

“Wait, so– so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?” Sam laughed. 

Dean shook his head. “No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam— I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.” 

“Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice,” Sam stated. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Dean, you're leaving – right? And I gotta stay here in this craphole of a world. Alone. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change.”

You heart sank, and you couldn’t bear to look at either of the two brothers. 

“Change into what?” Dean grimaced. 

“Into you. I gotta be more like you.” It almost made you smile bittersweetly at how much Sam admired his brother. However, you liked Sam for the fact that he was Sam. You agreed with Dean that Sam was supposed to be the morally gray one, and Sam changing under these circumstances made you sad. 

Suddenly, Dean groaned in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, rushing to Dean’s hunched over form. “Baby, look at me.”

Dean clutched at his stomach, seeming hardly able to force words out. “I don't know. Oh— (Y/N), something's wrong— bunch of knives inside of me—”

“Dean?!” 

His head was almost between his knees by this point. 

“Son of a bitch—” Dean cursed, hissing. 

“Dee, hey—”

“The coven, man, it's gotta be the coven.”

You immediately rushed to the bathroom and threw open the cupboards below the sink in search of the hex bag. You threw things about frantically; opening boxes and dumping their contents out. 

You heard Dean choke once more, and your heart nearly stopped. You ran to him to find him lying on the floor next to a puddle of blood he’d sputtered up. 

“Did you find it?!” Sam asked frantically. He’d torn the covers off his bed and sliced the mattress open with his knife. 

“No!” you replied. 

Dean’s coughs got weaker, and he was quickly fading as you shifted to lay his head in your lap, facing you. 

You saw Sam grab the Colt from your bag. “Sam, what are you doing?”

He moved toward the door wordlessly.

“Sam!” you called. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he told you, and the door slammed shut behind him. 

You kept Dean’s head in your lap, unsure of what to do. Dean continued to grunt and shift painfully, and you just tried to keep him as comfortable as possible. “Stay with me, Dee. Please, baby.”

All you got was a groan in response, but you knew he was trying. 

Suddenly, the door to the room was kicked open. 

You kept Dean cradled against you. “Stay back, bitch.”

Ruby shoved you aside harshly without replying to you and hauled Dean up by the collar. She forced his mouth open as Dean used his diminishing strength to try and shove her away. 

You tried to pull her off Dean, but it was no use. She dumped some sort of dark liquid down his throat, getting you off her easily. 

Dean was still struggling, but she soon got off him. 

“Stop calling me ‘bitch’,” Ruby panted. 

“Why did you save him?” you asked, slightly in awe and slightly apologetic. 

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she replied. 

“Okay, jeez,” you scoffed. “But… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ruby said. “Next time you point that gun at me, I'm not gonna just disappear, understand?”

You nodded and moved to help Dean clean the blood and Ruby’s liquid cure off his face. 

“What was that stuff? God, it was ass. It tasted like ass,” Dean groaned as you wiped around his mouth. He gently brushed you off him and took the towel from you to do it himself. 

“It's called witchcraft, short bus,” she deadpanned. Ruby turned and walked out of the room. 

“You're the short bus... short bus,” Dean grumbled. 

***

As soon as Dean had enough strength to move, you and he were off to find Sam. You knew he’d gone to the Van Allen house where the women held their “book club,” and Dean sped there in a stolen car. 

You burst through the front door of the house with a sawed-off shotgun in hand. When you did so, you discovered the demon possessing one of the women you’d met, and Elizabeth standing frozen in fear.

Before you could make a move, you were thrown back against the wall. 

“Three for one,” the demon smirked. “Lovely.”

“Wait,” you heard Ruby say. She walked in with her hands raised in surrender. “Please. I just... came to talk.”

“You made it out of the gate,” the other demon smirked. “Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?”

“Doors out of Hell only open for so long,” Ruby shrugged. 

“What do you want, Ruby?”

“I've been lost without you.” Ruby continued to advance on the other demon. “Take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters and their pretty little plaything here.”

Dean looked furious, as were you, and he mouthed, “I told you so” to Sam.

“They're for you,” Ruby continued, “as a gift.”

“Really,” the demon deadpanned. 

“Let me serve you again. I've wanted it— I've wanted you— for so long,” she said. 

Dean lifted his eyebrows at the flirtation between the two demons. You would have slapped him if you weren’t being held to the wall. In all honesty, though, you were intrigued, too.

“You were one of my best,” the demon smiled.

Ruby glared and tried to take her knife out to stab the other demon, but said demon caught it in mid-air. 

“But then again, you always were a lying whore,” said the demon. 

The two demons struggled against each other as you and the Winchesters were powerless to help or hinder. Elizabeth was cowering in fear behind the couch, and Renee’s dead body laid limply on the floor. 

The demon-possessed witch stood with a hot poker in her hand. “You're really telling me you threw in your chips with the Animaniacs here?” 

Ruby tried to stand, but the demon hit her across the face with the poker. 

Elizabeth suddenly stood to move to her altar and began to dump pins onto a cloth littered with demonic symbols. 

“Come on, get up!” the demon roared. 

Ruby panted, unmoving, with blood coming out of her nose. 

“I said, get up!” The possessed witch hauled Ruby up by her jacket. “We've been here before, haven't we?” She chuckled to herself and turned to Sam. “She didn't tell you? Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago. Ruby here was a witch. Of course, that was when you were human.”

You were surprised by that, honestly, but shouldn’t have been given the work she’d done to help Dean. 

The witch threw Ruby back down onto the debris of the bookcase she’d been nearly put through. 

“Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess. But don't worry, love, no secrets where you're heading, remember?” The demon taunted. She began to chant in Latin, and black smoke began to curl out of Ruby’s mouth. Suddenly, she began to cough, and you realized Elizabeth was chanting under her breath at the altar. 

The possessed witch stumbled and coughed harder, and her weakened powers allowed you freedom from the wall. You slid Ruby’s discarded demon knife over to Dean as the demon killed Elizabeth, and Dean took the demon’s distraction as an opportunity to kill her. He stabbed her in the back quite a few times to ensure the demon was truly dead. Your partner dropped the body to the ground, and he moved to help Sam up. 

“Go,” Ruby ordered, looking slightly embarrassed from her position on the floor. She wiped the blood away from her mouth. “I'll clean up this mess.”

You stood between the two brothers, and the three of you helped each other toward the door. You could feel the Winchesters turn to take one last look at Ruby, but you kept your eyes forward. With your urging, they continued walking. 

***

Somehow, the three of you made it back to the motel safely. You and Dean were outside of your motel room, just sitting on the hood of the Impala and talking, when the neon lights of the motel’s sign flickered. 

Dean jumped off his car, shielding you with his body protectively. You turned to see Ruby standing in the shadows a few feet off. 

“So, the devil may care after all; is that what I'm supposed to believe?” Dean asked her. He led you toward the demon. 

“I don't believe in the devil,” she replied, arms folded. 

“Wacky night,” he commented. “So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to Hell, you became a…” The blonde nodded, turning to leave. 

“How long ago?” Dean asked, stopping her in her tracks. 

“Back when the plague was big,” was her simple reply. 

“So… all of you guys— you were human once?” you questioned, slightly worried for the answer. 

“Every one I’ve ever met,” Ruby shrugged. 

“Well, they sure don't act like it,” Dean scoffed. 

“Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is— forgetting what you are,” Ruby explained. 

Dean, of course, kept up his plucky attitude. “Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks.”

Your breath, however, had caught in your throat at Ruby’s description of Hell. 

“It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit. Agonies you can't even imagine,” Ruby continued. 

“No, I saw ‘Hellraiser’. I get the gist.”

Ruby turned and started to walk away. “Actually, they got that pretty close. Except for all the custom leather.” Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks again. “The answer is 'yes', by the way.”

“I’m sorry?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, the same thing will happen to you.”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped. 

Ruby continued her torturous explanation. “It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul— every one— turns into something else. Turns you into us. So yeah. Yeah, you can count on it.”

Dean tried to keep his head held high, but you knew him well enough to know he was beginning to break. “There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there?”

Ruby sighed. “No.”

“Then why'd you tell Sam that you could?” you asked, finding the ability to speak. 

“So he would talk to me. You Winchesters can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the—”

Dean cut Ruby off. “The demon thing? It's pretty hard to get past.”

The blonde laughed. “Look at you. Tryin' to be all stoic. My god, it's heartbreaking.”

‘She’s not wrong,’ you thought. 

“Why are you telling me all this?” Dean questioned. 

“I need your help. Yours, too, (Y/N).”

“With what?” you asked. 

“With Sam. The way you stuck that demon tonight— it was pretty tough,” Ruby addressed Dean. “And (Y/N), I’ve seen you in action, too. Sam's almost there, but not quite. You need to help me get him ready for life without you. To fight this war on his own.” She walked away again. 

You were unsure why she was talking as if you wouldn’t be there to help Sam as well. 

“Ruby!” Dean called, making the demon pause. “Why do you want us to win?”

She turned back around. “Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them. I don't know why. I– I wish I was, but I'm not. I remember what it's like.”

“What what's like?”

“Being human.”

Dean looked at the ground, lost in thought, and you stared at Ruby while she disappeared from view. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[wakkoroni]

I want y’all to imagine Nico, after the battle of manhattan, all alone, roaming around and being homeless pretty much. He probably did some stuff to stay alive/ did some stupid stuff cause he was a) young and alone and innocent and b) IN THE WRONG CENTURY

Imagine like Nico revealing the shit he’s done to like the seven (plus Will but I feel like Will would already know)

Nico: yeah so like I learned the “don’t take candy from strangers” the hard way

Percy; what the fuck does that mean

Nico: um so after the battle of manhattan went down and I left, things have changed in society that I didn’t know about. And the fact that I was in a whole different continent didn’t help either. So uh in the 1930s, it was all talk about how the future was going to be great and how everyone’s problems will be solved

Percy: yeah?

Nico: right so uh I’m walking down the New York, being my little depressed self-

Jason: *trying not to laugh*

Nico: -and this guy walks up to me and he said “you look like your having a tough times” and pulls out this baggy with like a pill inside, and says “here this should take all your sorrows away, for a just a few hours and if you need more you just have to find me”

Annabeth: you didn’t-

Nico: looking back at this I should’ve known, but then again how would I have known? No one taught me this shit. And he phrased it like this really cool invention and in my head I’m like oh wow times really has changed

Will: babe you are a idiot and I’m surprised you even still alive

Nico, laughing: me too actually- I should not have lived past a lot of stuff but anyway I took it and thanked him and ummmmm one minute I was in the streets of New York and the next I was in the back of a cop car in Jersey with a headache.

Jason: YOU GOT ARRESTED?

Nico: yup. But legally I don’t exist and I still don’t cause I managed to run away before they could get my DNA or smth idk the process and then went back to New York and tried to find the guy again

Percy: why would you try and find him?

Nico: so I could get more? But either I just have a horrible sense of direction or he vanished cause I couldn’t find him anymore

Jason: the city’s confusing streets saved you from an addiction

Nico: no actually-

Percy, still trying to wrap his head around this: wait so no one warned you about taking drugs?

Nico: I didn’t even know what they were, well that’s kind of a lie I knew that they existed but I didn’t know what they looked like?

Percy: and the baggy didn’t seem suspicious?

Nico: it was a free sample

Percy: I- I don’t even know what to say

Nico: to be fair they treated the common cold with like cocaine back in my day so-

Percy: dude- *turns to Will* you don’t seemed surprised by this

Will, shrugging: wait til you hear about the “friend” he made

Nico, clapping his hands together: that’s a story for another time, hopefully never

Annabeth: I want to know-

Will: you really don’t-

Nico: if you thought this was bad the other was way worse

[certifiedfreec]

neighbor!keegan is super handy! <3

🏠 neighbor!keegan notices you when you first move in, but he doesn’t introduce himself just yet- he knows you’ll probably need time to unpack, adjust to the new space, etc. he’s also not sure how you feel about strangers helping you carry your personal belongings, even though he’d really like to help you. it’s just in his nature to serve others!

🏠 the first time you see him, he’s either out in the garage tinkering with his car or working on some sort of project. he likes to keep his hands busy, always fixing or constructing something…though he can certainly think of some ways to use his hands with you ;)

🏠 neighbor!keegan is in his own little world, humming along to the music playing on his speakers while he works away, so he doesn’t immediately notice you from across the street while you’re getting your mail. you can see the muscles in his arms ripple, the slight sheen of sweat from his efforts and the way it makes his t-shirt cling to his form. you’ve got the best seat in the house! if you stare too long, he’ll definitely feel your eyes though- he’s just extra keen like that :)) once he actually spots you, he’ll conveniently stop what he’s doing and grab his mail too, raising his palm as a quick wave while he walks to the end of his driveway.

🏠 “you reminded me to get mine,” he calls with a smile when he reaches his mailbox, and you can’t help but check him out; he’s in a delicious sweet spot between buff and lean, and he’s a good bit taller than you! he’s got pretty blue eyes that most definitely pick up on your ogling, and a rich, low voice that could say all kinds of things to you 🫣 behind him, you see the setup of tools and supplies in his garage, and you immediately know he’s a handy guy- doesn’t hurt that he’s super cute too. it looks like he could help you out in all sorts of ways! <3

🏠 you stand by your mailbox as you introduce yourself, and he leans on his own while he asks you how you’ve been liking the house and the neighborhood, if you’ve had any issues, etc. this man’s gotta collect his intel! it’s the perfect time to offhandedly mention that everything is great except for the fact that the previous owner left all the tile for the backsplash on the kitchen walls but never even started the job :/ keegan’s appalled! how could they leave all that work to you?? :( luckily he’s got mortar and a trowel on hand for times like these, and he’d be happy to take care of it for you- just give him a good time to come over and he’s there!

🏠 a real sweetie, neighbor!keegan is. he’s over a couple of days later, tools in hand, and you immediately like the feeling of him being in your house once he steps inside. he’s quiet while he works, focused and back in his own little world while you answer emails on your laptop in the living room, but he’s grateful when you tell him he’s more than welcome to play his music :’) turns out he has an impeccable playlist, and soon enough you’re humming along with him from your work area! he thinks it’s adorable and just has to remark on it in his own way of teasing. “heh, you don’t look like you’d listen to this kinda stuff.”

🏠 you laugh and look over at him from your desk, admiring how all those muscles in his back and arms flex as he applies the tiles to the walls :’) “what’s that supposed to mean?” you tease back, and you only hear him let out a low chuckle. “i dunno…” is all you get sheepishly in response- you can’t see it, but he’s totally blushing <33

🏠 neighbor!keegan finishes installing the backsplash as you both chat every once in a while, but even the silence is comforting with him around; you could definitely get used to having him in your space! he eventually calls for you to come take a look; he really wants to do a good job for you so he can do more projects around your house…and maybe you too ;) you come into the kitchen, and it of course looks beautiful!! he loves seeing how your face lights up when you admire his craftsmanship :) you’re already reaching in your wallet to give him some cash, but he’s quick to wave it away. you’ve never had a neighbor so giving of their time!! however, when you offer to order dinner from a place of his choice as a thank you, he just can’t deny spending more time with you <3

🏠 once you actually sit down with him, you find out that neighbor!keegan has a super dry sense of humor. he doesn’t need to say much to have you cracking up, and god does he love the sound of your laugh! he asks you about your move, where you came from, the reason you relocated here, etc., because he’s eager to learn any scrap of information there is to know about you. you’ve totally piqued his interest, and he’s pretty sure he’s piqued yours too :)

🏠 he’s normally pretty even-keeled, not one to ever rush things unless it’s an emergency, but you must be giving him some signals during dinner that you really like his presence- and he’s all too aware of you to ignore them! it started off as you two sitting just a liiiiittle bit closer on your couch, but it soon evolves into you straddling his lap while his mouth explores from your lips to your chest- all he can do in between those kisses is murmur about how pretty you are with that low, husky voice of his as his hardworking hands roam and squeeze all over you :’)

🏠 neighbor!keegan ends up leaving that night without things escalating too far, mainly out of consideration so you didn’t feel rushed or pressured, but then he’s at your door a couple of nights later telling you he can’t stop thinking about you :(( a neighbor coming to you in a time of need- it would simply be rude not to help him, right? he did do a beautiful job with the backsplash in your kitchen, not to mention!

🏠 this, plus the clear fact that he’s an unbelievably attractive guy, are enough reason for you to be splayed out on your kitchen counter with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue lapping at your clit like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted <3 your head rolls back at how good his mouth feels on you, and you get to appreciate his work all over again when you notice the beautiful backsplash behind you :’) he must be that detailed and focused in all areas of his life, because somehow he’s already managed to make you cum all over his mouth and fingers too many times to count!

🏠 if you couldn’t get a good look at his craftsmanship from earlier, now you can when he bends you over the counter and fills you with his thick cock <3 he knows just what to say to have you fluttering around his length and moaning out his name: “take it, princess…”, you feel so good, baby…” “uh huh, so perfect for me…” you know how he likes to keep his hands busy, evident by the way they’re gripping and squeezing your flesh wherever they can as he pounds into you and tells you how good you’re taking him :’)

🏠 neighbor!keegan is your new favorite installation in your kitchen as he fucks you on your counter, making you arch your back for him before he coats your insides with his hot load <33 he’s quick to pick up your shaky, sexed-out body, sweeping you away to your bed before heading to your bathroom to start a bath for you. he learns something: he’d much rather keep busy taking care of you than any of his house or car projects!

🏠 you hear the bath water turn on, and neighbor!keegan is quiet for a moment before you hear him pipe up. he must he checking out your shower, already planning his next opportunity to come over, and you laugh when you hear his dry observation. “hey…think the tile might need to be fixed in here, too.” of course you’d let him start a new project in your home, as many as he wanted to, really- he’s clearly very skilled with his hands, after all ;)

[ohworm-writes]

Just thinking about veteran and or retired neighbor Price right now *sighs dreamily while twirling my hair*

Like, okay - imagine having a house next door to Price situated in a small, cozy village up somewhere in Northern England, surrounded by nothing but green, grassy plains and dense forests with a stream that runs through the small village. I see him living somewhere cozy... quiet. Away from the loud, noisy environments that he'd been so used to, finding somewhere calm to settle down.

I see him having a pet. Maybe a lazy dog or a farm cat, something that'll follow him around and take a nap with him after a long day, either laid across his body or beside him. But, at the same time, maybe he'd like a pet that has a bit of energy - you can take a man out of the military, but you can't take the military out of a man. He still has so many traits and habits he's picked up from the military, and if you know anything about older, retired men, it's that they always need something to do and busy themselves with.

RANDOM THOUGHT but I feel like he wouldn't retire unless Laswell grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forced him out of the military, likely for his own good. If it were up to him, he'd stay in the fight until he died, so I'd think that him getting close to it was what pushed for the decision to be made for him to retire - maybe he was injured to an extent that it wouldn't be smart for him to keep going or something of the like - I could totally see him with an amputation of sorts (like, twinning with Alex lol).

I think he'd like to keep to himself for as much as he could. I don't see him as one of those super friendly, "oh, let me help you with that" type of neighbors unless the situation is right, or, rather, unless he's called upon for help. Like, he's grumpy and stoic, but only until somebody comes to him asking "hey, sorry to bother, but can you help me with something" and he'd soften up - begrudgingly, it seems, but, really, he's happy to offer some assistance. It makes him feel useful.

God, imagine moving in next door to him and struggling to unload your car of all the boxes and things that are haphazardly packed inside of it, and him walking out of his house, seeing the way that you're struggling, and letting out a heavy sigh - just like "welp, suppose I know how I'm spendin' my mornin' now" and coming over to offer his assistance, a little awkward at first, but that quickly melts away as he settles into comfortable conversation with you.

*slamming fist against the table repetitively* BRINGING HIM FOOD OR TREATS AS A MEANS OF THANKING HIM FOR HIS HELP! A little reusable container held between your hands, to your chest, walking over to his place and knocking on the door, outstretching it towards him and being like "thank you - for your help... I wanted to show my appreciation, you know? so, I made you this" and giving the container to him.

AND WHO IS HE TO SAY NO??? (He tries, believe me, but that sweet, eager look on your face, wordlessly begging for him to take it... he can't deny you). AND HIM RETURNING TO YOUR PLACE A FEW DAYS LATER WITH THE CONTAINER IN HAND, BEING ALL GREATFUL AND STUFF. God, someone let him be real, pleaseee.

Becoming comfortable neighbors with him, spending rainy afternoons over at his house, or, in contrast, him at yours, sat on the front porch with a cup of tea or coffee or hot chocolate in hand, gossiping about some of the neighbors that live within the houses along the street, the both of you sharing your own life stories here and there, him divulging about his time in the military without shame.

Okay, I know a lot of people like to think that he wouldn't ever share or talk about it, but I can't see that. It's not like he's ashamed of his time - he's proud of the work he did, if anything, and it's all behind him now, so why should he be shy to share about the things he did? Of course, I don't think he'd go into gruesome detail about it or share about everything he's seen, but he'd totally be like "yeah, I've been all over the world - did a few OPs in X, Y and Z countries, took down terrorists, et cetera" and answer any questions with pride.

Him totally being The Man™ who you can go to if you need help with anything. Need help with a leaky sink? Give him a few minutes and he'll be over with a toolbox. Want to do an oil change on your car but have no clue where to start? Don't worry, he's got an oil pan, jack and a few rags around somewhere, he's sure - he'll be over in a few. Want some simple, good ol' company? He's outside the door already.

He'd be more than happy to give you a tour of the village if you ask, pointing out which neighbors to trust and which to be wary of, telling you about his favorite pub that's posed all the way on the far side of the town, but he promises you that the food, drinks and atmosphere are like nothing else. Walking with you down the stone pathways, footsteps clacking against them, taking in the sights with you and answering every question you may have, or, simply settling into a comfortable silence with you. At peace. Comfortable.

I'm so *laying on my bed on my stomach and kicking my feet slowly in the air behind me* I need him.