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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 months

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The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you.

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding.

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.”

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside.

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you.

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up.

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together.

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided.

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked.

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home.

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N.

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach.

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers.

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning.

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all.

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe.

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers.

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off.

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too.

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up.

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday.

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!”

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house.

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC.

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up.

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred.

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath.

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester fanfic #football au

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mmelionsblog · 4 months

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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇꜱ [lucifer x reader]

your eyes squint with water in them, your breathing stuttering instead of having a nice cool flow. you were staggering your way back to charlie’s brand new hazbin hotel, and all you wanted to do when you got back there was flop into your nice big made clean bed. everyone you knew in that hotel knew that you were the shiny, happy go to, amazing friend whenever they needed a friend like you instead of charlie— whom they all love of course, just a bit too much sometimes.

as soon as you opened the doors to the hotel, you heard your friends making chaos somewhere. your eyebrows twitched with all the screaming, your headache only getting worse as seconds go by.

“why, someone doesn’t have a smile on for once!” alastor popped up from behind you, making you trip on your untied shoe. glaring at him from the floor, you spoke “as much as i love you alastor, i just need space away from everyone right now. please— could you be a doll and distract them till i get into my room?” you asked him.

alastor’s smile twitched a bit, but he hummed in agreement. “as you wish, my dear.” he patted your head and disappeared to wherever your darling friends where. as soon as you got into the elevator, you laid yourself on the wall and closed your eyes for a good minute.

“where’d you go alastor?” vaggie asked, her eyebrowed raised when she saw the familiar red man. “just to greet the guest that came in,” he sang out. charlie’s smile beamed, “WE HAVE A GUEST? YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?”

alastor chuckled at her reaction, “no. we know this guest. our old dear apple just came back from her other- 9 to 5 job.” he spoke. lucifer perked up at the mention of his new girl, “my ducklings home?” alastor nodded.

“she’s home, but i’m assuming she had a rough day. she was definitely not herself when i spooked her from behind.” lucifer bit his lip, “thanks for informing me!” he poofed, leaving red clouds from where he was last seen. “oh i should’ve informed him our sweetest girl doesn’t want to be seen.” the redhead tch’d, “oh well. he’ll learn soon enough.”

your make up is a disaster, ruining your perfect white pillow as you were on a call with the one and only beetlejuice who was yapping his ass off that he found a new girl he could haunt with, what was her name? lydia? yeah.. “b.j, i’m— im really not in the mood right now.” beetlejuice’s eyes widen when he saw a familiar king of hell behind her, “oh shit! erm, yo are you banging the king of hell or what?!” his raspy voice screamed, he hurriedly hung up the phone and you groaned.

“i told alastor to keep all of you away for at least a day!” you screamed, your original hair was now flying with orange and red fire around it, your eyes blaring red to the person who was standing at the foot of your bed. your eyes realized it was lucifer, who you wouldn’t mind being comforted by. “oh im sorry luci, didn’t know it was you.” you calmed down after a bit, your hand caressing his cheek. “it’s ok my duckling, what’s got you such in a- mood today?” he asked nervously. “this stupid… UGH so you know how i work for rosie right?”

“looks like lucifer learned!” alastor chuckled, while the others were petrified from your scream.

“STUPID SUSAN! god i know rosie and alastor warned me about her but SHIT, she fucking needs to learn where she fucking belongs!” you screeched, “want me to put her in her place?” lucifer grinned out, you nodded your head no. “no it’s fine, just one stupid ass cannibal i can get rid of myself.” you hummed. “can we just- can we just cuddle please?” you whined.

he nodded, “anything for my cher.” he whispered. he crawled into bed with you after taking his shoes off and everything else off, climbing into your soft yet hard bed. he wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling close to you and placing his head in between your chest.

“you’re so warm,” he mumbled, you giggled, his breathing hitting your exposed chest made it tickle. “yeah?” you asked with a smile. “mm, yeah you are.” he kissed the expose skin he saw, looking back up to you with puppy doll eyes.

“i’m sorry you had a shit day, mon amour. if you ever need anything you know i’m here for you,” he kissed your lips, your eyes closing softly when he did so. “i know luci,” you mumbled, your arms wrapping tightly around him and soon enough falling asleep with him on you.

a/n:

might be my only hazbin hotel fic, i dunno, i don’t really know how to write into their characters that much but i wanted a cuddle fic with lucifer so here we are! :)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #vaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin art #x reader

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of-a-chaotic-mind · 4 months

Text

Glue (Part 3)

Summary: John B and JJ get Reader back but need to have a talk with her about some things they heard her say to Luke.

TW/CW: Routledge!Reader x JJ Maybank, more mentions of gun stuff, more angst.

Requested?: No

Word Count: 1,621

A/N: Part 1 Here || Part 2 Here || I'm honestly glad I only did this in three parts. Imo somewhere around 1,000 words is perfect for an imagine. I hope the ending isn't disappointing... Requests are Open! Much love to all!

(Y/N)’s POV

The zip ties around my wrists are starting to hurt. I glare at his back, drilling into his spine, “Why don’t you just shoot me already? I’m dispensable.”

Luke shakes his head, “I’m not gonna fall for that darlin’.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know? Your son is the smartest, kindest, most loyal person I know, and you treated him like he was worthless. Hell, you even made him believe it. I spent countless nights bandaging him up because of your shitty little tantrums. I saw him at his lowest and I still don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve his loyalty and kindness that he obviously didn’t get from his piece of shit father.”

Finally, Luke snaps. He makes his way to me and puts his gun under my chin, “You shut your mouth. That kid ain’t worth the dust under my boots.”

“I fucking dare you to say that again. If it keeps you away from him, I’ll gladly take a bullet because he deserves all the happiness and love in the world not the threat of his worthless, shitty, man child father looming over his head.”

He cocks the gun back. I grin, “Fucking do it. Put me out of my fucking misery. I spend every day watching as my friends and brother drift away. I spend every day wishing I was worth something, wishing I deserved the pity they show me. I know that’s all it is. They pity me. If I didn’t have them, I’d have no one and they feel sorry for me.” Suddenly, a loud bang sounds toward the front of the boat. Luke jerks his head toward the noise and then runs off. It’s quiet for a moment before there’s a tap at the window above me. I look up to see JJ lift the cracked window all the way open. He drops into the room, and I jump up, burying my face in his chest.

He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “I got you.” He pushes me away from him enough to pull out his pocketknife and cut off my ties. He helps me climb out of the window to my waiting brother and then hoists himself up to follow. No one says another word as we race to the Twinkie.

In the backseat, JJ starts looking me over. I wince as he grabs my shoulders. His eyes widen, “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- “

“It’s okay,” I mumble, “Can you pop my shoulder back into place?”

JJ’s jaw clenches as he does what I asked before returning to looking me over. Having enough, I bury into his chest. He wraps his arms tight around me and kisses the top of my head again. Soon, John B is putting the Twinkie in park and getting out to check on me as well. He opens the side door but finds me refusing to leave JJ’s side. “Come on Little Bird, we gotta get you some bandaids,” John B say in attempts to coax me away from my safety net.

JJ lifts me up and hops out of the van to carry me into the Sheriff’s Office. Inside, Sarah, Kie, Pope, and Cleo jump up to greet us. JJ carries me to a chair and sets me down. He grabs a first aid kit from nearby before returning to clean and bandage me up. Shoop exits his office, “I told you two we’d handle it.”

“Well, if you hurry you might catch him before he wakes up and gets free of the chain,” John B declares.

Shoop clenches his jaw and motions to several officers, giving orders, before coming to squat in front of me. I feel JJ tense up beside me and place my hand on his arm. Shoop takes a deep breath, “You alright, kid?”

I look to JJ, “I am now.” Shoop nods and leaves us.

John B joins us, “We need to talk (Y/N), when you feel up for it.”

Sometime later when everyone’s gone to bed, I find myself sitting on the dock lost in thought. I hear footsteps behind me but don’t bother to look back. JJ takes a seat on my right, dropping his legs over the side of the wooden structure to swing them back and forth above the water. A glance over my shoulder alerts me to John B’s presence. He opted to lean against the banister to my left, staring out at the night sky.

It’s silent for a few moments before JJ takes a deep breath, “Listen, we uh… we heard what you said to Luke.”

Involuntarily, I cringe. That wasn’t meant for their ears. I meant every word I said but I only said it because I thought it’d never leave the room. I shrug, “It’s nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing (Y/N). You’re my little sister. Why didn’t you come to me?” John B responds, sounding hurt.

“I- I don’t know... I didn’t want to feel like a burden.”

“You’re never a burden to us (Y/N),” JJ says before glancing up at John B. “I think I speak for us both when I say that we’d do anything to make sure you’re safe and happy.”

I shrug again, not knowing what to say and feeling my nerves attempting to force me into my shell. John B squats down beside me and brushes hair out of my eyes, “You deserve the world. Anything you want, I’ll do my damndest to make sure you get it and I’m sure JJ would too. You’re the glue that holds us all together and I could never express how sorry I am that we made you feel less than that.” He kisses the top of my head, “If you ever feel like this again, please come to me come to me. If you don’t want to talk to me, talk to JJ. Just please let someone know so we can make it right.” I nod and taking a deep breathe he looks to JJ, “Maybe it’s about time, man.” He looks back at me and offers a small smile, “I love you Little Bird. Don’t ever forget that.”

I return his smile and nod, mumbling an “I love you,” in return.

He stands and pats my head gently, “I’m gonna go get some sleep. Don’t stay up too late.” I nod and watch him leave.

It’s silent for a few heartbeats before JJ clears his throat, “Did you really- Did you really mean everything you said? About me?”

I look over to him and he’s fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, “Of course I did J. Little does John B know that you’re the glue that holds the glue together.”

He chuckles a small bit and takes my hand in his, fiddling with my fingers now, “So you’re not mad at me?”

My brows scrunch together, “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you got taken on my watch by my father...” he trails off.

“You listen to me, and you listen well. I will never ever blame you for anything that that man does. You are not him and you never will be. Actually, you’re the exact opposite and I’d give anything to make sure you know that and don’t blame yourself.” He looks me in the eyes now, almost searching for something. I tilt my head at him, “What?”

“Will you pinky promise that we’ll stay best friends and I won’t lose you if I say what’s on my mind?” he ask, offering his pinky.

I take it in mine, “Of course, JJ. No matter what we always have each other.”

He takes a huge deep breath, “I love you (Y/N). I don’t mean as a friend. I mean I’m in love with you. I know I don’t deserve you and it’s probably going to be awkward now, but I can’t stand knowing you think so little of yourself when I think so highly of you. You’re insanely smart. You’re hilarious. You’re always there for everyone when we need you. You’re always there for me when I need you. I just can’t-” I interrupt him by kissing him. At first, he seems hesitant but quickly he relaxes. As cliche as it sounds, his lips fit perfectly in mine. I can’t believe I fought so hard to keep from doing this all this time. When we finally pull away for air, he grins “From now on, that’s how I want you to stop my rambling.”

I laugh softly and fully take his hand in mine, “I love you too, JJ. Like I said, I meant every word I said to Luke. You are without a doubt my favorite person on planet earth, and I want to make sure you know that.”

His grin gets even bigger, “So, does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”

I nod, “of course,” before kissing him again.

We sat there on that dock enjoying each other’s presence and our newfound mutual feelings for hours. We talked about all kinds of stuff and shared kisses under the moonlight.

JJ’s POV

As the sun peaks over the horizon, I look down to find (Y/N) curled into my side and fast asleep. I smile to myself and admire the way her hair brushes her face and how peaceful she looks. I never thought I’d see the day where I got to call her my girl. Happiness swells in my chest as I carefully scoop her into my arms and head for the house. She’s still sound asleep when I lay her on her bed and crawl in next to her, pulling her close and drifting off myself with a smile permanently plastered on my face.

Masterlist

More JJ Maybank Imagines

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank imagines #obx imagine #obx imagines #outerbank imagine #outerbanks imagines #jj maybank angst

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dulltoned · 5 months

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I know I mostly just ask random thoughts about brozone and how unbelievably angsty they are but

What about any headcannons about brozone? Individually or as brozone as a whole?

-🦦

(Also happy holidays!!)

Oh, that's a fun question. I genuinely haven't put too much conscious thought into it but I have a few that I can share off the top of my head.

There's at least one headcanon involving Branch in there for all of them but I might follow up with more headcanon posts somewhere down the line. (Excuse the funny little doodles, I wanted to see if I could make decent headers and I did... okay.)

-> He doesn't like being alone. He didn't spend the twenty-some years after BroZone broke up just on his own in the Neverglades but instead hopping around from place to place looking for new experiences and new people to meet. He'd always go back to the Neverglade Trail, though. Just in case someone needed him.

-> It was still really lonely but he never thought too much about his brothers or the Troll Tree. He's an expert at denial and avoidance.

-> He's pushy with Branch because he wants to try and help Branch be more open and direct with him but he doesn't really know how to sit down and have a serious conversation about it.

-> He's not stupid. He can be unobservant and a bit full of himself but he has a good head on his shoulders.

-> He and Branch bond over survivalist tips.

-> He was worried he was going to be a bad father. He still had a lot of stuff he was working on when he and Brandy had their first kid and he was old enough that he really didn't remember his dad. He certainly didn't want to emulate John Dory. He knew they'd be okay the second he saw his son in Brandy's arms for the first time.

-> Brandy helped him get over the toxic mindset BroZone gave him and while he can still struggle sometimes he's never been happier.

-> Amazing cook. His food is amazing. Cooking, baking, it's all divine.

-> He cooks for Branch a lot when he visits. At first it's because he couldn't get the image of his baby brother out of his head but then it was because Branch had confessed that no one really cooked for him before and he just couldn't have that.

-> Clay chose the admin building as his room back when he was still desperate to be anything other than the fun boy. He regrets it.

-> He and Viva have bonded a lot about their family traumas, especially over how much they missed their siblings. He never wanted to stay away as long as he had but after they found refuge in the Golf Course he never got the courage to leave Viva behind to go find his brothers.

-> Clay's hair just naturally changed color with age. It wasn't stress-induced or anything, it just happened. Like how some blonds change to brunette when they get older.

-> He really likes crossword puzzles and sudoku. It has nothing to do with his desire to distance himself from his fun persona. He's just a nerd.

-> He really enjoys Branch's input. Branch is an incredibly handy, if not a bit paranoid, realist who isn't afraid to share his opinions. It's really helpful when it comes to safety measures or even trying to avoid complicated emotions.

-> Floyd may be alive but he doesn't recover fast. The effects of the diamond vacuum (exhaustion, weakness in the limbs, a chill in his bones, dizziness, etc.) linger with him for years afterward and he finds it incredibly frustrating.

-> Floyd is such a smug little shit. He will give you shit and tease you to hell and back and then give you the most innocent smile immediately after.

-> He moves into Pop Village after he's rescued. It reminds him a lot of the Troll Tree when he was a kid and it's bittersweet.

-> He finds out about Branch's puzzle tradition and the two of them start doing daily puzzles together.

-> Floyd's pod is in the clearing where Branch's bunker is.

Surprisingly I don't really know what to put for Branch here but I think I'll reblog this later with additions for Branch and Poppy.

I hope you enjoy the holidays, thanks for the fun question.

#{ the sensitive one }#{ the leader }#{ the fun boy }#{ the heartthrob }#| branch answers |#| branch rambles |#( 🦦 )#dreamworks trolls #trolls floyd #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls brozone #| Clue Board |

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galaxycunt · 7 months

Text

I Can’t Keep Crying pt 3

Pt 1 Pt 2

Quick lil note to say I love every comment I been getting on my stuff and ilysm kissing u all mwah mwah it really makes my day

Story under the cut: angst only rn

You shared a cigarette on the deck with a crew mate, watching Buggy from afar. Sometimes if it was cold, he used to lend you the coat he was wearing right now. What a fool he made you out to be.

”Captain’s let his bird fly out the cage finally?”

”Oh, shut the fuck up.”

He only laughed, “Cabaji gets his sloppy seconds, you could do worse.”

You flicked the butt in his face, storming off below the deck. Before all this, Buggy was teaching you how to throw knives. You decided it was perfect time to imagine the empty barrel was his face.

You could think of a hundred reasons for why Buggy was bad for you, but the good times popped up. His laugh, the real one he seemed to save just for you. The way he’d protect you during a raid, shoving you downstairs in a hurry yelling at you to hide. Letting you watch his shows from the catwalk, his eyes shining brightly in the spotlight as he looked up at you.

It wasn’t romantic for most people, but things were different on the sea. After a raid on a village, he kept a small box close with him. He hid away from the crew, only coming out when you said you didn’t want to eat dinner alone. He had his moods, he was soft around you. He never told you what was in there, only his mood giving a hint to what it was. Closer than what anyone else got.

”Needs work, thank god you’re not my first wave of defense,” said a voice behind you.

”Is there more to be done, captain?”

He smiled, “nah. Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

You looked him up and down, “nice necklace.”

”Eh, gonna hock it next time we dock somewhere. Can’t figure out what put in it anyway.”

You forced a smile, “I thought even pirates loved their mama.”

“Now that’s funny.”

You nodded politely, turning to leave. Buggy stopped you, his brows furrowed like he was struggling what to say.

“I didn’t…know that..well, I don’t have to really explain myself do I?”

”Excuse me?”

”Lemme make it up to you, steal a table at Baratie, dine and dash. Something fun and exciting!”

”What? No, I’m not doing that.”

He frowned, “aw come on, you’re not turning legit now, are you?”

You smiled, “I’m not doing that with you.”

Hurt flashed across his face for only a moment, “you did it first you know.”

This confused you, having no idea what he was talking about. You sized up your captain, he was a stubborn bastard.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, so I doubt it.”

”Go clean the head.”

”You’re seriously giving me cabin boy duty?”

He nodded, causing you to groan. He smiled satisfied, he was going to make you regret sleeping with the boss. If that was how he was going to act, you were going to make him regret it too. Cabin boy was easy to pay off for shit duty.

”I’m sure there’s a way to convince your captain differently, if you wanted to be persuasive.”

Buggy stepped closer, bumping into your chest. His breath smelled of whiskey, his aura pulling you closer. It was like that when you joined his crew, amused instead of angry that you tried stealing from him. Buggy had a way with people, making them stay. You knew better.

”You don’t like me Buggy, simple as that. You made it clear more than once.”

He was at a loss for words, letting you walk away as he stood there. You held in your tears until you reached your room. The worst part about being on a ship was the lack of privacy. In your dreams, Buggy would proudly proclaim his love for you, in front of the whole world. Instead of letting you hover around him, the crew would judge you, yet you didn’t get special treatment when it came to chores.

He did give you his cabin to be alone in, and that was something you wished you had now. You cried softly, face down in your pillow. What did he mean earlier? What did you do first?

You heard your name called, ignoring it.

“You okay?”

It was your friend, petting your head softly. You gave a thumbs up, rubbing your face like nothing happened. She smiled, giving you the mug of coffee in her hand. The ship was set to sail for a small village, peaceful and full of gold. You chatted about the show, what your friend had planned.

“So what’s your plan?”

”I’ll probably still run the lights and curtains.”

”No, about him.”

You sighed, “he’s a grown ass man, he won’t apologize and I’m not gonna coddle him. We’re pirates for fuck’s sake.”

Surprisingly, Buggy still allowed you to run the lights. In the middle of the ring was the mayor, bound and gagged as Buggy made his grand entrance. He was nicer when the show ran smoothly, a little more willing to let people live.

And your mother had much bigger plans for you and your life.

Buggy glanced up at you, winking as he tortured the mayor for the key to the bank vault. He was still very handsome, sexy when he exerted his power over others. The gasps from the audience reminded you of the first time you saw his powers, it was intoxicating.

You used this opportunity to sneak away, heading towards his cabin. You weren’t sure what you wanted to find, his room was messy as always. You had some clothes left behind, deciding to take a pile. You searched around for your locket, not remembering if he kept it on today. The accordion was still in its case, you took that one too. If he was going to punish you for stealing your own things, so be it.

Realizing you never had the whole ship to yourself, you pushed your luck, snooping in his personal items. Sealed letters from someone, the name sounding familiar. Under a pile of scarves was a small box, you wondered if the locket was inside. Were you still willing to steal that damn thing from him?

You decided against it, running to your room and back to the tent before anyone noticed. You stood in the back, watching the show. The crew was probably going to stay here another couple of days, Buggy loved his adoring fans. You could escape if your luck ran out.

The show ended, Buggy noticing you near the entrance, he smiled and let you go on your way with the rest of the crew to drink. His words entered your mind again, what imagined transgression against him was he thinking of?

The crew liked putting on a small show for themselves, your friend waving as she flipped through the air. You’d miss this crew if you had to leave, Buggy couldn’t ruin this for you. You smiled, hoping to let this whole thing blow over.

You heard your name bellowed out from across the tent, Buggy marching straight toward you. The rest of the crew adverted their eyes, he was on a warpath.

You stood up straight, “yes, sir?”

”You were in my cabin. What did you take? Treasure? A map? Money?”

“My clothes. I had clothes there,” you stuttered.

He glanced around the room, “my cabin. Now.”

You nodded as you’re hurried past the crowd, embarrassed and slightly afraid. Thankful he wasn’t about to air out your relationship failures in the open. It didn’t mean anything good either way.

Buggy spun around as soon as the door closed, angry to the brim.

”You stole from me.”

”I…didn’t.”

”Yes, you did.”

”The accordion? I only took my things back.”

He waved around his room, “oh! Is that all? Nothing else? Nothing in that desk?”

You shook your head, of course he’d find out. You didn’t take anything, your only saving grace.

”I was looking for my locket,” you held up your hands, “I’m not stupid, Buggy. I only take what’s mine.”

He searched your face, the wind blowing out of his sails, he believed you.

With a laugh he shook his head, “you’re gonna be the death of me. Swear to god.”

With a nervous smile, you tried to leave. He still stopped you, lightly grabbing your arm. His eyes were filled with an emotion you couldn’t place, unsure if he could either.

“I would like to hear a song, if you’re willing to grant an audience. That’s how I’ll forgive you.”

You smile, “I’ll be right back then.”

The words slipped out so easily, the way your body moved too. You played in your youth, something you did to pass the time on long voyages. On your last ship, it was lost in the wreck. You couldn’t find a reason to get it replaced, feeling like you had no need to. You only told him about it once, in an inn months ago while you bathed together. He liked your singing, not surprised that you always been some sort of artist your whole life.

That day was when you realized you were in love with him.

“Captain?”

”Come in, I was just uh, setting the mood, I guess.”

The cabin was dimly lit, a sheer red scarf placed over a lamp. He held up his hands, motioning you to sit on his chair. You giggled, covering up your nerves.

“Any requests, captain?”

”Oh you can call me Buggy, and uh. I dunno, dealer’s choice.”

You could only remember a song partially, singing a song of a woman left at the altar on her wedding day. The notes were fumbled, your foot tapping next to his, he hummed along not knowing the lyrics.

You had a good time despite yourself, smiling as you made up a song on the spot. You could remember simple chords, singing about the woman from the previous song taking to the sea to cut her fiancé’s head off. Buggy laughed hard at that one.

“Beautiful!”

You smiled, “thanks, Bug.”

You got up to leave, Buggy stopping you again. He held his breath, thinking of something to say.

”You don’t have to leave so soon do you?”

He looked so sad, so lonely. You were certain it had to be projection on your part. He held out a hand, letting you place your fingers gently on his palm. You were in love with an image, one he displayed in full before you. You had doubts, and that was reason enough to leave.

”I can’t. I really can’t.”

He only nodded, letting you take your things with you. As you closed the door you hear him release a shuddering breath, matching the sob you were holding in yourself.

#buggy the clown #one piece #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

Note

Hello, Sleppy! There is one thing I have always wanted to know about Jade but did not dare ask. Tell me, please, what happened to Jade and Simon in the original CoD universe? I saw a sketch of crying Jade, was it her reaction to Simon's death or in your universe he managed to survive? P.S. - I am sorry if you do not like this question at all.

Okay so since I rarely post about the OG!MW2 anymore, I'm just gonna reveal the whole plot to you guys (ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ)

Be ready cuz this is kinda long - these are the canon divergence that I constructed in the events that my OC's are inserted into the OG!MW2 plot.

So, Jade was actually sent by the MI6 to track down what actually happened that made Russia attack US out of nowhere. Because that Zakhaev Airport massacre sounded and looked FISHY as HECK. Being the MI6 she was, Jade had to report regularly to her handler in MI6 (141 didn’t know this. It’s her personal gig). She met Soap Ghost and Roach there, but her first meeting with Ghost was bad and blab la blaaa SHE OPENED GHOST'S MASK. She also met Ellie (another OC I had for Gaz who’s a medical corps leader in 141. Gaz died in the OG!MW, she was still saddened but she’s very glad to have Jade in the base).

There’s also another OC that I have named Bara. He’s a lone Indonesian Denjaka sniper lieutenant that got sent by the country to capture an Indo defector among Makarov’s cause. Because of political reasons, he’s not a 141. Bara’s like an ally that pop out sometime somewhere like a spirit. 141 themselves were still very suspicious of him, but when Bara saved Meat and Royce in Rio, he gained their trust, and 141 would help him find the defector as Bara would help them on their missions.

Now, sometime in the middle, Jade was captured by Makarov and got tortured by him. Jade intentionally didn’t escape and held the pain in to gain some info herself from anyone inside the room or from Makarov himself. And that’s where the (How about you check who you surround yourself with) and Jade’s gears started turning inside her brain. She released herself and ran amok around Mak’s place, and found some data about “anonymous source” that said there’ s mole among Makarov’s group in the massacre (we know it is Joseph Allen) and she SENT THAT STRAIGHT to MI6. Ghost and the boys found the compound and rescued a badly injured Jade.

So like, along the story, Jade found bits and pieces, put two and two together, and by the end, Jade’s 90% sure that Shepherd’s onto something shitty.

NOW HERE’S THE CANON DIVERGENCE IN LOOSE ENDS MISSION.

As Jade, Roach, and Ghost went to Makarov’s base at the Georgian-Russian border, Jade actually took the time to read the posts, notes, and all the info that were sticked to the boards, tables, and walls. In fact, as Ghost and Roach was busy fighting off Makarov’s goons, Jade READ that shit (because at that point she didn’t trust Shepherd AT ALL).

And you guessed it, she found out that Shepherd is the mastermind behind every damn thing.

So when Roach transferred the data to the DSM, she did her magic and unbeknownst to everyone, she SENT ALL the proof to MI6 on the spot.

Jade then told Ghost and Roach about everything, and they did NOT trust Shepherd anymore. So when the general told them to go the fields, they declined and decided to hold the fort inside the house. Shepherd knew something was wrong, so when he kept pressing the three to get out of the house, but again, the three didn’t oblige, the general and the shadows decided to finally go to the house.

Shepherd and the Shadows cleared the whole area from enemies and tried to find Ghost, Roach, Jade,and the others in the house. One by one, the SC people got killed with stealth. Things led to another, and chaos ensued inside the house. Shepherd could’ve burnt down the house with the 141 in it, but Shepherd’s paranoid that Jade had done something, and he NEEDED that DSM.

Shootout happened, and Jade got one of the SC as a shield with a gun to his head. Shepherd told Jade to give him the DSM, and convo happened, Shepherd finally revealed his motives. And now he had to get rid of the three of them.

AND THEN, MI6 contacted Jade, saying that the proof about Shepherd’s doing had gone public. The whole thing was his doing all long, and now the world had turned all their forces towards finding Shepherd. Russia, US, now began their search on Shepherd! WOOHOO

Panicked, Shepherd yelled at SC as reinforcements came, along with Price and Soap who came straight fom Kazakhstan to the place, Meat and Royce (who survived Rio), Archer and Toad, everyone came to help.

CLIMAX ENSUED, and Ghost got shot twice protecting Jade from Shepherd’s bullets.

As Jade held Ghost on her arms, Price and Soap, with Nikolai’s help, chased Shepherd who’s desperately tried to escape and killed him. Minus the Soap getting stabbed.

Don’t worry, Ghost survived because ELLIE WILL NOT let him leave Jade like Gaz left her too fast. So Ghost survived WOOHOOO.

The Jade crying sketch was, indeed, a cry of relief as Ellie told her that Ghost was going to be fine (❁´◡`❁). She wore Ghost's jacket to comfort herself during the times Ghost was unconscious, and this sketch came out!

Everybody lives, no WW3, no MW3. This is REAL MOVIE ASS SHIT but it’s what’s in my mind!

I have the whole ass fic about the post-Loose Ends angst at the ready if y'all want it.

#if the demand is high I'll consider posting the post-Loose Ends fic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #sleepy answers #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost x jade #call of duty canon divergence #sleepy's thoughts #sleepy's OG!MW2 plot

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rhoorl · 10 months

Text

Working Title - Chapter 5

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Chapter 5 on AO3

Chapter Summary: It’s time for the party! We meet a couple more side characters. Plus, more best friend vibes happening with Belle and Indy. Toward the end we go through a more rapid fire of alternating POVs, I hope it translates the way I pictured it in my head!!

Warnings: This chapter has some swearing and allusions to smut.

Indy could tell you were starting to get in your head about the party and knew just how to get you to loosen up.

“Ok, pick a playlist,” she calls over to you as she tosses her phone.

“Jeez, you know I can’t catch for shit,” you say as you barely grasp her phone in your hands, looking through her Spotify to find what to listen to.

“You thinking champagne or a mixed drink?” she asks over her shoulder as she saunters into the kitchen.

“Isn’t it a little early?” you ask and before she can retort you follow it up with, “And don’t say it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, for the love,” you chuckle.

“We aren’t going to pregame hard, B, just a little something to sip on while we get ready!”

It had been a while since you both had gotten ready together to go to a party. When you lived in New York you’d spent many a night crowding into your tiny bathroom fighting for mirror space as you got ready to head to a club or bar. You’d sing and dance to whatever mix CD Indy had burned. Sometimes it still makes you gag to think you both used to rip cheap vodka shots straight without chasers.

Although the location is different, the energy is still the same with you two – giggling, reminiscing about old times, and sipping on the champagne Indy popped open.

She’s been on her phone off and on texting, smiling at herself when she didn’t think you were looking. At one point you both decide to Facetime Rhys.

“Hey! How are you two doing?” he picks up on the second ring, sitting on his couch presumably watching a hockey game or whatever other sport was on TV.

“Hi Rhys!” you wave. “Thank you soooo much for upgrading my flight, that was clutch!”

“Yea and this fucking room?! Rhys, you’ve outdone yourself!” Indy chimed in.

“Ha, well I’m glad you both like it, you deserve it, both of you.”.

“Oh Rhys, you’ll never guess what happened this morning!”

“Shh, stop it he doesn’t want or need to know about that,” you chide her.

“Know about what?” he smirked.

“So I walk outside to the balcony this morning, which is huge by the way,” she says as she puts down the phone against the mirror and keeps putting on her eyeliner. “I was looking for Indy so we could have our coffee together and I walk out there and see her staring at the balcony next to us where freaking Dieter was standing – without a shirt on! Her mouth was practically on the floor drooling over him.”

“Oh my gosh Ind, my mouth wasn’t on the floor,” you roll your eyes. “Rhys, I was behaving myself.”

“Oh, you were behaving yourself when you moaned about how good a fucking cookie tasted?” she laughed.

“Wait, what?”

“Ugh, never mind Rhys. It was nothing.”

Rhys starts to smile, laughing when he says “So I guess you met your neighbor then, huh?”

“It was so funny Rhys, she was so flustered it was so cute!”

You kind of paused for a bit at his reaction. He was trying to act surprised, but he was a terrible liar. What is he up to?

By this point, he and Indy had moved on to another topic you barely even heard, still lost in thought.

“I should be there in about a week or so. I haven’t booked my flight yet, but I’m excited to visit my two favorite girls!”

“We can’t wait to see you!”

“Yea both owe you a big hug,” Indy added.

“Ok ladies, have fun tonight, but not too much fun,” he winked.

Indy hangs up her phone and you both finish the last touches to your makeup. You offered to do it for Indy, but she refused. She had watched you so much over the years, studying your techniques, and eventually picked up a few basic things. And honestly, with her, it didn’t take much to still look stunning.

Putting on one last spritz of hairspray, you give yourself a final look before heading to your room to get dressed. You slip out of your t-shirt and shorts and walk over to grab a bra out of the dresser. As you open the drawer to look in, your mind wanders to Dieter. You were nervous to see him. Presumably, tonight was going to be the closest you’ve both been to each other physically. The first time you were separated by a couch and this morning you were separated by the balconies.

Indy’s voice is coming through loud and clear in your head, if you want to feel confident wear something that makes you feel good. Spurned by that thought and the champagne, you rummage through the drawer and decide on the black bra that makes your boobs look amazing. You also decide to change into a skimpier pair of underwear figuring if you felt sexy, it may help you feel flirty.

You head over to your shoes and slip on a pair of sandals. Your finishing touches were your watch, a bracelet Indy got you for a birthday, and a pair of diamond earrings. Grabbing your purse, you head out to the living room where Indy is texting and smiling at her phone.

She sees you and starts to whistle, “Ok sexy mama! I see you!”

“Oh my god, Ind,” you laugh.

“Alright, ready to do this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Oh c’mon, you’re getting good at going to these!”

You’ve been accompanying Indy to these types of parties for more than a decade now. They’ve run the gamut from boring to wild – the stories you both could share! By all accounts, tonight is going to be pretty chill; some of the cast and crew traveled with their families and were bringing them over. The only part that always made you nervous was when inevitably you and Indy would get separated. At least this time around, you will have some friendly faces in the crowd.

Indy shoots another quick text, smirking at her phone.

“Ok, let’s do this!”

Dieter had spent the afternoon looking over scripts and chatting with the writers. He was a TV and film nerd and loved the process of making the art. Lizzie always told him he should write or direct something of his own, but he had never followed through despite the countless notes of ideas on his phone.

He’s lost in a daydream, thinking of the morning and what he should have said, or wanted to say when his PA Danny walks in. In his early years, Dieter went through PAs like nothing. Over time he realized they only ever wanted the drugs he could score, or to fuck him. And, frankly, he saw them the same way too for a while.

Danny had been with him for the past couple of years. He was young and a hard worker, no job or task was too small for him. Dieter liked his work ethic and respected his hustle, so he looked out for Danny. When Dieter wasn’t working, he would make sure to find Danny a gig with a fellow actor friend. They’d grown to have a bit of a brotherly relationship.

Danny sits down across the table from Dieter, unwrapping a package and pulling something out.

I know that packaging.

“Danny, what is that?” he pointed at Danny’s mouth as he was mid-bite.

“It’s…uh…a cookie,” he mumbled out with his mouth full. After he chewed and shallowed he added, “Did you get one in your welcome basket? They’re so fucking good and it’s from a local company too. Want one?” he offered Dieter the other one.

“Uh. Yea. I mean. No, I don’t want one, knock yourself out. Wait, did you say they were a local company?”

“Yea,” he continued to chew. “I’ve been talking with the other PAs, apparently they make them here on the island and there’s like a fuck ton of other flavors. It’s been like Pokemon trading cookies with everyone today,” he laughed.

“Dan - how close is this place?”

“Uh, I don’t know, let me look,” wiping his mouth and grabbing his phone. Once he pulled it up he turned the phone to Dieter, “Looks like it’s 20 minutes away!”

Looking down at his watch, Dieter does some quick math. “Danny, you up for a little adventure?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Ok, phone, wallet, room key. Check, check, and check! Let’s go do this!” Indy said, slapping you on the ass as she walked by you and opens the door.

“Hey, ouch!”

As you close the door behind you, you hear her yell “Hold the elevator please!” Your heart skips a beat at who could be waiting for you in the elevator.

You look down the hallway and see an arm pop through the closing elevator doors, stopping them and opening them back up. As the elevator doors open back up, you hear a deep voice call out, “Indy?”

“Hey Sam!” she gushes as she hustles over to the elevator.

You exhale but also have a tinge of disappointment come over you. You hurry so you don’t keep them waiting, glancing over to the door to Dieter’s room as you walk by. I wonder where he is.

“Oh my gosh, Sam you haven’t met Belle yet!” Indy said as she ushered you into the elevator. You could see why Indy was into Sam. He was tall, fit, with a great smile, and he had the most piercing blue eyes you’d ever seen.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you! Indy has been talking about you non-stop,” he laughs and goes in for a hug, which you reciprocate. Wrapping your arms around his back you add another reason to the “why Indy is obsessed with Sam” list – the guy was made of pure muscle. “She said you were beautiful, but you’re even more stunning in person,” he says in his low, Southern drawl.

Okay. I can see why she’s all googly-eyed now. This guy is a charmer. Normally this shit would be a red flag, but he seems sweet.

“It’s nice to meet you too Sam. You’re even more handsome than she described,” you winked at him. For as awkward as you could be, there was something about playing a wing woman to Indy that made you a little bolder.

Looking over at Indy she is beaming. She sidles over to Sam and you look down to your phone to give them a little privacy. You stop on a floor to let a few people in when you hear him whisper in her ear, “You look absolutely stunning, baby.”

They were practically eye fucking each other the whole ride down, which made you wonder how far Indy had gone with him.

You make it down to the first floor and the elevator empties into the lobby. Ari is getting out of another elevator and you wave to her so she can join headed to the front of the resort. Along the way, Ari tells you that Mitch organized a few shuttles to help get people to and from the party.

Getting to the entrance, you see a full shuttle leaving as an empty one pulled up. Sam let you and Ari go ahead before letting Indy board ahead of him. Ari takes a window seat and you scoot in next to her, Indy taking the window seat in the row behind you, Sam following closely behind.

Sitting at the front of the shuttle, you are practically the unofficial greeter, saying hi or at least smiling to everyone who boards. You look to the outside of the shuttle where a line was forming, looking for that distinct mop of fluffy hair above the crowd. He said he was going to be there, maybe he already left. Or, he’s not into this kind of stuff and is going as late as possible to still make an appearance. You battle back and forth with yourself and suddenly realize the shuttle closed its doors and is starting to move.

Behind you, you could hear Indy giggling as Sam whispers to her. Oh, they’re fucking. Making a mental note to ask her long that’s been going on. You smile to yourself, happy that Indy seems to be head over heels for the guy, but a little concerned seeing as filming hasn’t even started yet – what if something happens? That would be awkward.

Ari makes small talk with you on the way to the party and before you know it, the shuttle is coming to a stop.

“Holy shit, this place is nice,” Ari says under her breath.

“Seriously. I’m totally going to get lost,” you chuckle.

You all file out of the shuttle and are greeted by servers with glasses of champagne. Add another glass to my tally. You follow the crowd up the stairs and across the threshold of the house which opens up into an open-air living room overlooking a huge backyard with a fantastic pool.

“Wow, this is nice,” you hear Indy come up next to you.

“Seriously. So … who is Mitch?”

Looking around, Indy spots him. “Hey Mitch!” she yells, waving at a man standing by the bar in the backyard. She grabs your hand and ushers you over to him, Ari and Sam trailing behind.

“Indy, great to see you,” the man says going in for a hug.

“Thanks so much for having us, it’s so fun that we get to start off the shoot this way!” Oh, she’s on her schmooze game. “Oh, I need to introduce you to one of the most talented hair and makeup artists I know, and she’s my best friend,” she beamed motioning over to you.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, thanks for having us!”

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you, glad you’re joining the crew. I hope you all have fun tonight, make yourselves at home. If you want to get in the pool go ahead, we have towels. There’s a bar and food,” he motions over to the bar and the full buffet set up. “Otherwise, just have fun!”

“Thank you!” you all chime in.

“Indy, Sam, could I steal you both?” he asks as he guides them to another group of people standing around a high-top table. They look a bit more dressed up than everyone else. They must be from the studio.

Poor Indy, these types of events seemed so exhausting. She had to be “on” for most of the party trying to make sure she talked with the right people and said the right things.

You take a second to scan around the party. Another shuttle of people had been dropped off by this point. Hmm, I don’t see him. You tried to not let your disappointment show. Besides, it’s not like even if he was here he’d talk to you. Look at Indy, she’s going to be busy all night, so he will be too.

You and Ari head over to the bar to grab a drink. A few of the other PAs were hanging out at a nearby table so she heads over there. You manage to find Meredith and some of the other stylists and grab some food and talk. She gets you all to play two truths and a lie as an icebreaker to get to know everyone. You all end up laughing to the point of tears at how ridiculous some of the lies were. After a while, some of the group decides it’s time for a cigarette so they get up to leave.

With the sun starting to set, you take it as a good opportunity to sneak away and try and take some photos of the spectacular sunset. And also recharge your social battery. You liked being around people, but you didn’t get energy from it like Indy did.

As walk around, you hope to catch a glimpse of Dieter. While you didn’t see him, you did see Indy. She was in the pool leaning against the side, talking to Sam who was sitting on a nearby lounger. You gave her a wave and as discreet of a thumbs up as you could as you weaved your way through the crowd.

Exploring the backyard, you head down a path and find a little secluded spot with a perfect view of the ocean. You see a little bench right next to a small pond with some beautiful koi fish swimming along. Sitting down, you take out your phone and start snapping photos and taking some videos to post on your Instagram stories. You lost track of time and almost didn’t hear the rustling and footsteps behind you. Turning around, you see that Dieter is coming your way down the path.

He sees you and gives a lopsided grin, one of his dimples peeking through.

“Hey! I was looking for you,” he waves with his left hand, rubbing the back of his neck with his right as he approaches. “Mind if I join you?” he motions towards the bench.

Looking for me? Ok, breathe. Remember to breathe. Shit, he looks good.

He was wearing light gray chino shorts, a plain, black t-shirt, and sneakers. You couldn’t help but linger over how tight the sleeves of his shirt were over his biceps. His hair was a bit more tamed than it was this morning, but it still had gorgeous curls and waves.

“Oh, h-hi Um, yea be my guest,” you bow towards the seat. Why are you bowing, that’s lame. “How long have you been at the party?”

“I, uh- I just got here, a little while ago. I had to take care of something and then Danny drove us over.”

“Danny?”

“Oh, uh, my PA. Good kid,” he smiles. “Um. Y-you look beautiful,” he whispered as he looked down at his hands.

Wait, he’s nervous too, right? Holy fucking shit, just remember to breathe. But also, girl, take advantage of this.

“You look nice too. You put on a shirt for the occasion,” you winked at him.

He laughed, “Touché, but I can’t tell if you mean that’s a good or a bad thing.”

You bite your lip and look down. Ahhhhhh.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat. “Did you have a good day today?”

“Uh, yea. Yea, it was busy but fun,” you said turning towards him. “Did you?”

He seemed to be taken aback that you asked him such a simple question and seemed to care about the response. “Y-yea. I’d say it started off pretty well,” he winked.

“Ha, yea. Although it did take me a while to actually get a hot cup of coffee,” you laughed.

“Maybe we can make up for it tomorrow morning,” he said a bit lower.

You breathing hitches.

“I- uh. I mean from each of our balconies. Not from the same one. Unless. Uh- shit, sorry” he starts to ramble shaking his head as he rubs the back of his neck.

You don’t understand how this man could ever be flustered, let alone around you, but you had to admit each time it happened it was really cute.

You laugh and then softly say, almost as a whisper so he doesn’t hear, “I actually would like that.”

His face softens, “You would?” You nod. “Yea, I would too,” he smiles.

“Only one problem though,” you replied.

He furrows his brows together, “and what’s that?”

“We only had that one package of cookies in our basket, and I need something sweet with my first coffee of the day.”

“Oh that is a dilemma then isn’t it,” he laughs. Leaning further into your space he whispers “I think we can figure something out,” with a wink.

You let out a nervous laugh, biting your lip again. Holy fucking shit.

As if she knew you needed help, you suddenly hear your phone ring and look to see a call coming in from Indy. You usually kept your phone on silent, but in situations like tonight, you both kept your ringers on. It started when you used to go clubbing, that way in case one of you needed to help the other would be able to hear their phone.

“Oh, sorry, I have to get this. She would only call if it were an emergency.”

“Of course!” Dieter looks concerned, clearly hoping everything was ok with Indy.

You give him a small smile and answer, “Hey, Ind, are you ok?” furrowing your brows in concern.

“Y-yea, yea. Um, pineapples.” Over the years, you both developed a series of code words to help get each other out of bad or awkward situations. Luckily, this one was not a serious one, but she still needed your help.

You let out an exhale and smirked, “Ok, where are you?”

Dieter looks a bit confused, looking at your face to see what’s going on. “She’s ok,” you mouth to him and he nods.

“Second-floor bathroom, it’s to the left when you walk up.”

“Ok, be right there.” Hanging up the phone you turn back to him. “Sorry, I have to go find her. We’ve got a wardrobe malfunction,” you laugh.

“Oh shit, yea let’s go so you can take care of that.”

He gets up from the bench and lets you walk in front of him, lightly touching the small of your back as he leads you around the path. You’re thankful that your back is to him because you blush at his touch and also curse yourself for being so affected by something so small – a simple courteous gesture.

He keeps his hand there until you reach the party again, bringing both hands into his pockets. “Do you know where to go?”

“Yea, she said she’s on the second floor. I, uh, I’ll see you around?”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

You hate to turn away and leave, but you’re also so curious as to what situation Indy has found herself in.

BELLE: Headed upstairs

INDY: THX 🙏

As you make it to the stairs, you see Sam hurriedly making his way down. He has a sheepish look as he sees you, trying to avoid your gaze.

“Hey Sam, do you know where Indy is?”

“Uh, y-yea, she’s the second door on the left,” he glances away trying to avoid eye contact.

Confused you keep heading up the stairs, You know nothing bad happened because she used pineapples but Sam’s demeanor was a far cry from the confident swagger he had earlier. He seemed embarrassed.

You made it to the door and gave your customary three knocks so Indy knew it was you. She opens the door slightly poking just her eyes out. Confirming it was you, she opens the door the rest of the way and pulls you in. Then you see her and let out a laugh.

“Hooooly shit Ind! What the fuck happened?” pointing to the huge hickey on the left side of her neck with one hand and covering your mouth in shock with the other.

“Can you fix it?” she asks nervously as she looks in the mirror, trying to tame her mussed-up hair.

“Well, I left my special effects make-up at home. Ow!” she punches you in the arm as you laugh. “But I do have a small kit with me so we can make it work. Here sit.”

She gets up on the counter extending her head back, exposing more of her neck so you can see the full brunt of what you have to work with.

“Sooo…care to share with the class how this happened?”

She rolls her eyes, “I think you know how this happens, B.”

Pulling back and putting your arms up in surprise, “Hey! I’m the one helping you remember. I can walk out and leave you to work the room with that gigantic mark on your neck,” you tease.

She lowers her chin looking at you with a smirk, “You wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” She lifts her chin again as you start to mix some of the concealers.

Knowing you weren’t going to drop it, she finally caved, “So, Sam and I came in here.”

“No! I’m shocked!” you say sarcastically as she gives you another stern look. “Ok, ok I’m sorry!”

“We were fooling around and next thing I know I glance in the mirror and see this,” motioning to her neck, “and I freaked out. It's too big to cover up with just my hair. So, that’s when I called you. Sam was still here, he felt really bad. He stayed the whole time, but left when you texted.”

“The guy could barely look at me when I came up the stairs,” you chuckled, applying the makeup to the area. It wasn’t going to be a perfect cover-up job, but between Indy's long hair and your rushed handiwork, you both could leave without anyone being the wiser of her romp in the bathroom.

“So, how long have you guys been hooking up?”

“Um, it’s been … a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?! And you didn’t tell me!”

“I was going to, I swear. I just … I don’t know. He's younger, you know. I really, really like him, but I wanted you to meet him first.”

“Well, he's not that much younger," you wink. "And seems lovely and he’s clearly dicked you down well enough that you didn’t even notice him doing this on you. Seriously, Indy this is like the biggest one you’ve ever had!”

You both giggle, Indy noticeably relaxing now that she’s clued you into how involved she’s become with Sam.

As you were finishing up, she asked how you had been enjoying the party. You tell her about some of the two truths and a lie the other stylists shared.

“Oh, did Dieter ever find you?”

“Huh?”

“He was looking for you. When he got here I could see him looking around and when he saw me, he made a beeline over. He was trying to play it cool, asked where my ‘sidekick’ was,” she gave air quotes. “I saw you walk down toward the path, so I sent him that way. Did he find you? Wait, were you with him when I called?”

You nodded.

“Shiiit, I’m sorry!” she smacks her the palm of her hand to her forehead. “I feel like a jackass. You were getting some alone time and here I am messing it up!”

“It’s really fine, Ind. You actually called at a perfect time because I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going.”

“Oooo go on ….” she waggles her eyebrows.

“We were kind of starting to talk about repeating our coffee and cookie thing tomorrow morning…I think.”

Indy hops down from the counter and grabs your shoulders.

“Holy shit! So, are we talking like from his place? Or ours? If it’s ours please let me know so I can put in earplugs.”

“Indy!! Not like that,” you shake your head and look down. “Me on my balcony and he would be on his.”

Arching her eyebrow and tilting her chin down she gives you a lopsided grin. “Ok, Belle, ok. But I’m sure he was thinking it.”

“Oh stop it,” you laugh and then start to yawn. The jet lag and excitement all starting to catch up with you.

“Oh shit, you’re probably tired, huh? I keep forgetting you came from the East Coast. Wanna head back? It’s getting late anyway and we want to make sure you are well-rested for your coffee date!”

“It’s not a date, he probably won’t even show up.”

She rolls her eyes and grabs your hand as you both head out of the bathroom. You make it downstairs and see a group starting to make their way to the shuttle so you shuffle in step with them and head back.

The shuttle ride was uneventful and you made it up to your room. Indy unlocks the door and you both file in. You start to head over to your bedroom, but stop when you see a giant box sitting on the kitchen island. You both look at each other confused as to who left something in your room. You figured it was either Rhys sending you both a surprise or maybe even Sam as an apology.

Indy skips over to the box, snatching the note to read it. She stops and looks up at you with a smile and doesn’t say anything, she just extends the note to you to read.

Turns out they have a bunch of flavors. Pick a few for tomorrow! - D

“Holy fucking shit, Belle, this is the cutest thing ever!”

Getting a gift from a man was a pretty foreign concept to you. The only gifts you had received in recent years either came from your dad, Rhys, or Indy's brother. Ryan had forgotten your last several birthdays and anniversaries.

You step around Indy to see exactly what was in the box. The company that made the cookies from this morning apparently makes several other flavors. It looks like there are about 12 different varieties in this box, but you notice a few boxes of the macadamia nut flavor, which makes you blush.

“He had to have done that earlier today! I saw him talking with Danny, his PA, and then they grabbed some car keys and left.”

You started pulling out the boxes, unsure what to even say or think.

“Umm. Earth to Belle? Dieter surprised you with a cute gift. He wants to see you tomorrow morning. Honestly, babe, if I were you I would just knock on his door and invite yourself in right now.”

“You know I’m not doing that. Besides, we don’t even know if he’s back yet.”

“I know, but could you imagine? He would absolutely flip.”

You wanted to smile, but something stopped you. You felt like there had to be a catch. There’s no way this was happening to you.

“I can’t meet him tomorrow,” shaking your head at the sheer ridiculousness of this situation.

“What?! Why?” Indy mumbled as she stuffed a cookie in her face.

“Because this is probably some big elaborate joke or something.”

“You and I both know that’s a load of bullshit you’re telling yourself. Don’t build that wall up. Stop it.”

She knew you better than anyone and knew exactly how your head was spiraling. You felt like you didn’t deserve to have someone, especially a man, do nice, sweet things for you. And if someone did, it was with a catch or out of obligation.

“I am setting my alarm and dragging your ass out of bed myself.”

“Please don’t do that. Besides we both know you will sleep through that alarm,” you smirk.

“Fine. But please promise me you’ll go outside and have coffee with him. This,” she gestures to the sampler box of cookies, “is too fucking cute. Rhys said he hasn’t heard of Dieter dating or even being interested in someone in years, so he’s probably just as nervous as you are.”

Is that true? I mean, now that I think of it I haven't read about him being linked to someone in years. Also, why are Rhys and Indy talking about Dieter's dating life?

Taking a deep breath you straighten up and look over at Indy who has opened up another box to try. “Ok, I’ll try.”

“Ooo you should text him thank you!” You give her a look. “Before you say ‘I can’t do that I don’t have his number’ yes you do!” She grabs her phone from her purse and starts to go through the contacts. “Here, I’m texting you his number.”

Her text comes through and you stare at your phone. I mean, he did get you a gift, the proper thing to do would be to acknowledge it.

Indy comes around next to you as you both lean over the kitchen island, looking at your phone. It brought you back to when you both used to sit in front of the computer, trying to compose the perfect AIM message to your crushes. You keep staring and Indy grabs the phone, “Ok I’ll just do it. ‘Dear Dieter, let’s skip the coffee and I’ll give you my cookie instead’ winky face.”

You snatch the phone from her, realizing she didn’t actually type any of that and she was fucking with you. “Oh my gosh, Indy! First of all, no. Second, the cookie pun, really? I am just going to say ‘Hey it’s Belle, thanks for the cookies, that’s sweet’. Simple and I still get a pun in,” you chuckle.

“Come onnnn. The guy got something for you, you made plans to see him tomorrow morning. Be a little flirty! Let’s speed this shit up!”

Rolling your eyes you look back at your phone and start to type with a smirk. When you were done you hand her back the phone, “This ok?”

“Do it!”

Dieter wasn’t one for parties anymore, although this one sounded like it would be pretty tame and safe. He knew he would have to make an appearance, but it definitely made it more appealing to see you and hopefully get a chance to talk.

He was relieved when he finally saw you, his breath catching. Wow, she’s beautiful. He thought that this morning when he saw you with no makeup, a messy bun, and glasses. Now, your hair was down and he could see your eyes better. He was nervous to talk to you, but excited, trying to turn on some charm to see how you’d react. Every time you bit your lip, he could feel his shorts get a little tighter. All he wanted to do was reach over and kiss you.

When Indy called he was concerned, but then a bit frustrated. He felt you were maybe starting to reciprocate some of his advances.

Knowing that you would be occupied with Indy, he decided to head out and drive himself back to the resort. On his way, he called the front desk agent to let them know to proceed with the plan. After he hung up a wave of nerves washed over him.

That was probably too much, right? Like who the fuck buys someone cookies? But, it gives me an excuse to see her again. You’re going to see her on set every day though. I wonder if she’s back yet. No, she and Indy are probably still having fun. Am I coming on too strong? I always come on too strong.

He makes it back upstairs and starts pacing around his room, his insecurity and anxiety starting to spike. He sits on the couch and does some breathing exercises. In … two … three … out … two … three .. four … five.

After doing this for several minutes, he feels himself calming down, deciding to go lay down on his bed. Shrugging off his shorts and grabbing a pair of basketball shorts, he pulls off his shirt and slides under the covers, and grabs the remote. He’s honestly not sure what’s on the TV, he finds the noise comforting as he zones out.

Then, he hears his phone ding.

“Ok, sent. Shit!” you bury your face in your hands.

“It’s a pretty innocent text.”

You both stare at the phone screen waiting. After a couple of minutes, you see that the message has been read. Shit. He’s not typing. Wait, yes he is. Ugh, then he stopped.

“Aww, it seems like he’s nervous too,” Indy teases bumping your shoulder with hers.

Dieter sees a text come in from a random number. Normally, he would just ignore it, but the timing was coincidental so he unlocked his phone.

I’ll bring the cookies, you bring the coffee?

He exhales and smiles. Although the text is from a random number he knows who it’s from and goes to immediately save the number.

His stomach does a flip as he decides how he wanted to play this. Ok, breathe.

Indy shrieks when the phone dings again.

DIETER: Oh, I think that can be arranged sweetheart.

DIETER: What time? I want to make sure the coffee is hot for you…

“Ohhh shit!” Indy grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “See, I fucking told you!”

“Shit, what do I say?”

Ugh. Was that too much? That second bit was too much, right?

Ding. Dieter unlocks his phone.

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Hmm. Like 6? Is that too early?

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Also, any requests?

Ding.

“Oh, this is so fun!” Indy giggles.

DIETER: 6 is perfect.

DIETER: Macadamia nut please. 😉

Indy gets up and starts running around the kitchen island giggling. You couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly you weren’t tired anymore, this interaction giving you a little burst of adrenaline.

🍪 ☕ BELLE: I think that can be arranged.

🍪 ☕ BELLE: Good night. And thank you, by the way. 🙂

“Was the smiley too much?”

“He sent you a goddamn winky face, so no I don’t think a smiley is too much.”

Ding.

DIETER: Sweet dreams, Belle.

“Fuck, I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: Eeek! I hope you liked the last bit alternating between them receiving texts from each other. Our poor, flustered babies! They’ll get it together, I promise. I'm honestly a little intimidated of writing the smut, but these two need it dammit, so I'll get over myself :)

If you’re still here, thank you so much for reading. For those who have commented, reblogged, or liked any or all of the chapters so far THANK YOU. It really makes my day whenever I hear your thoughts or encouragement.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or if I inadvertently left you off or added you by mistake. :)

Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fic #working title fic

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carolmunson · 2 years

Text

not givin' it up (rockstar!eddie x actress!reader)

h, smack, dope, horse, snow, persian, white, brown -- no matter what someone called it, he was using it. sometimes the promise of things getting better is enough to keep you coming back for more.

warnings: active drug use, addiction, drug mentions, withdrawal symptoms, manipulation, fighting, swearing, no happy ending, no makeups, just like how shit like this goes down, syringe mention, partying, angst, angst, angst, more angst

The first time you saw Eddie in withdrawal you thought he just had the flu. You had just started getting serious, still like giddy teenagers playing house together. You fawned over him, bringing him soup and crackers, orange juice, ginger ale. New symptoms popping up by the hour: sweating, shakes, aches, running nose, watery eyes, vomiting. “My poor baby,” you’d coo, while he’d whine and toss and turn in his water bed. He’d wake up hyperventilating, pale, vibrating – and it didn’t get better. He would cry at night, while you slept on the couch at the window, thinking you couldn’t hear him. You thought it was just from the pain – you’d shush him and hold him to your chest thinking 'He can’t be contagious at this point’, but he wasn’t contagious at all. After you called him out of rehearsal for the second time, the boys came over and sat you down in the living room. “He’s not sick, the way you think he’s sick,” they tried to explain, but you didn’t wanna believe it. “No, no, I’d know. It’s just the flu, it’s just…” tears welled in your eyes, “It’s the flu, right?” Gareth shook his head no, tapping his foot nervously.

“He – you know he wasn’t using for a bit, he got off it for a while when you both started seeing each other. He was doing really good,” Jeff said, “But you know how things are. In this industry? It’s everywhere.” “He’s so impulsive, and when he’s already in his moods y'know, he just wants to start the next party,” Gareth continued. “It’ll probably be another week, we’ve done this with him before,” Jeff said, putting a hand on your shoulder trying to make you relax. “He’ll be okay, just another week – we promise. We’ll help you.” They did, the whole band moved in for a week and a half – all half ready to call 911 at any sign of a turn for the worse. He recovered, slowly but surely, finding energy to get out of bed the following Tuesday. You’d repeat this process a few more times over a couple years until he finally decided he needed to go to rehab. It was all over the news: CORRODED COFFIN’S BAD BOY GETS CLEAN. As clean as he could – at least he wasn’t doing opiates (for now). It was the time after rehab that sent you over the edge. When he came back from the hospital, he saw you in the Hollywood house at the door with your bags packed. Two full sets of Louis Vuitton luggage filled the foyer. “Baby?” he asked, “You goin’ somewhere?”

“I gotta go, Ed,” you said with a sniffle, “Can’t do it anymore, I just – I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“Whaddaya mean? Can’t do this with me?” he asked with a smile like he didn’t know what you were talking about, but his face was pained. He shut the door behind him, pulling you in so you hips were on his, his hands lacing over your lower back.

“I’m done with it, sweet thing, I promise,” he said, “This time, I’m done.”

“You said that last time,” you cried, “And the time before.”

“I know,” Eddie admitted, his voice low, “But I mean it. I’m done.”

“If it happens again…” you sighed, “I’m done, okay? It’s me or its her.”

“Heroin’s got nothin’ on you, baby,” he smiled, you didn’t smile back. He pulled you into his chest, rocking you slowly while you rode out the rest of your cry.

“Let me help you unpack, pretty girl,” he muttered, “Just relax. I’m here now, I’m with you.”

He got your name tattooed on his hip the next week just to prove he meant it. He’d never touch opiates, as long as you were in his life, he had no reason to do it again.

You left for Canada to guest star for a few episodes of a new TV show feeling confident, a couple months out there and then you’d be home. He’d be touring anyway, shows and press – the boys would be with him the whole time. You had nothing to worry about – he called every day, he sounded lucid, bright, aware. He told you about the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that.

It was okay. It was gonna be okay. You were so excited to surprise him at home a day early that you left your luggage a mess in the foyer, hearing him moving around in the main living room.

“Baby!” you called out, “I’m home! I’m –” but it wasn’t your 'baby’ on the couch. Ed was in the center, bent at the hips low, straw in his nose finishing up a line on the table. A pill bottle opened and empty, Oxy or Dilaudid you guessed, four lines neatly lined up behind the one he just finished. At the end of the table, a tied off baggie, a syringe in its packaging, his old tourniquet and a spoon. “Were you just gonna do it all in one go?” you asked, unsure how the question even left your lips. “Oh shit, shit, fuck,” Eddie said, holding his nostril with his knuckle, “Baby, baby no this isn’t–” “What is it then?” you interrupted, your heart was racing, “What the fuck is it? What the fuck is it, Eddie?” “Tour was gettin’ hard, baby,” his face contorted, his eyes watering, “I missed you.” “Missed me?” you asked, your voice starting to shrill, “Looks like you missed someone else.” “No, please, no,” he said, rubbing his eyes nervously, tears pouring down his face, “I didn’t mean to, you know it’s hard for me. You know how it gets, baby, I swear I–” “I told you,” your voice was low and grave, “That you had a choice. It was between me or her, and you picked her.” “I–I didn’t,” he said, realizing what you meant, realizing he was gonna lose you, “I didn’t choose–I’d never choose heroin. B-baby please believe me. It’s always you, I prom-promise.” “You chose, you chose what you wanted!” you started yelling once the hurt kicked in, kicking the edge of the table, the glass jumping out of place. The left over lines he had perfectly curated fell apart, the syringe and spoon clattered to the floor, the tourniquet bouncing under the couch.

“So get out! Get the fuck out! This is my house!” your voice was strong but you were shaking inside, refusing to cry, “You made your choice!”

“GET. OUT. Ed,” you hissed, your eyes bulging while he sat on the couch. He hid his face, hair shaking with his body while he cried into his hands. “B-baby please, no, I’m sorry,” he sobbed, “I didn’t even–I didn’t–I didn’t even do it. I didn’t shoot up, I–”

“You didn’t do it because YOU GOT CAUGHT,” you yelled, “Do you think I’m fucking STUPID? This was all here and set up by accident?!”

“N-no, I d-don’t,” he said, lifting his head to face you. His head slipped down and then back up as he caught himself slipping under, his brown eyes shining with tears and guilt, “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“You really did, you really fucked up, Ed–” “I messed up, please p-please let me fix it, I’ll go–” he stumbled to find his words, starting to slur, slowly standing up, “I’ll go back t-t-to rehab, just p-pleasedon'leaveme, don'leaveme. Please, I’ll do'nything.”

He moved slow towards you, his head dipping, bending at the hip, his breath getting ragged.

“Ed, sit down,” your voice got small while you watched him start to nod off, he looked so sick, “Sit down, Eddie.” You stopped him from coming towards you, guiding him back towards the couch. He sat back, his head turning to the side, his eyes half lidded. “You with me?” you asked him, taking his head in your hands, “You with me right now? Should I call an ambulance?” He took a sharp intake of breath, stretching his eyes open, only for them to become half lidded again. It hurt him to be honest with you, more tears spilling out while he fell in and out of the moment, “J-just did two, just did two.”

“Two what? Two pills? Two lines?” you asked. “Two lines,” he said, his face relaxing into the high, “Just gonna sleep. Gonna sleep it–gonna–gonna sleep it off.” “Ed?” you said, your voice was far away and fading, “Eddie?” — Eddie woke up with a jolt, drenched in sweat – he felt like shit. The living room was dark, light shining in from the chandelier on in the sprawling foyer. He inched his way up off the couch, coughing into his elbow, smacking his tongue against the top of his mouth thickly. He looked down at the table, still covered in powder, the little baggie of Persian still sitting there, goading him. He picked it up and put it in his pocket, guilt pouring over him while he remembered your face when you came in. So disappointed, like he did it to hurt you. “Baby?” he called out hoarsely – but it was a big house. The likelihood of you hearing him was slim. It was likely you had gone to bed anyway. He shuffled slowly to the kitchen, having to stop every few steps to dry heave, the cool sweat starting to pour from him now. He really fucking did it this time, christ. He cursed himself for not being used to it by now, the aches, the pains. He flicked on the light, squinting at the harshness. The white of the marble counter top offending whatever headache was starting to brew behind his eyes – but by the grace of whoever left it, there was a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol already out for him. His heart swelled, he knew it was you. Your little ritual, he gets fucked up, you fix it better.

But as soon as his heart swelled, it sunk. Next to the glass was a small plate with your engagement ring on it. The stone sparkled brilliantly, like you had cleaned it before you left it there. Under the ring was a single line note scrawled on your stationary in curly script.

Call me when you choose yourself.

Eddie took a harsh breath in, and started to cry.

#rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie au

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arazialotis · 1 year

Text

Get Him to the Con - Part 3

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 3800

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Language

I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

The night crept up on you faster than you knew, and you would either have to kick him out or call off work tomorrow. But how could you help it? There was an empty pizza box to your right and a Bowie record spinning on the entertainment stand. Both of you sat on the floor. Jensen backed up against the couch and you against the chair, your feet barely nudging against one another. You were dangerously close to playing footsie like a giddy middle schooler. If this night never ended, it would still be too soon.

“Okay, okay.” He settled a chuckle, completely oblivious to the time. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

You scoffed. “Easy. A paleontologist.”

“Really?” He popped an eyebrow, surprised.

“Truly. Second grade. Everyone was a princess, an animal, or a ghost; I went as Alan Grant.” Jensen’s confusion was clear. “Jurassic Park!” You exclaimed.

He scoffed. “No.”

“Swear to God.” You put your hand to your heart.

Jensen threw back with laughter. “Man, I need pictures of that.”

“I’m sure my mom has them in a scrapbook somewhere.” You swirled the remaining beer in the glass before yawning.

Jensen looked at his watch. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.” He stood up. “I didn’t mean to keep you so late.”

Your heart sank, but you got up to match his stance. “Oh please, no. It was worth every minute. Like I said before, truly a dream come true.” You met his eyes and blushed, breaking away again. “Um, do you have a place to stay? I have a guest room that could be made up….”

He cut you off. “No, that’s okay. I have a room booked at the Marriott downtown.”

“Right, of course.” You tried to hide your foolishness. “That’s a really nice place. If you have time in the morning, check out the waffle place across the street. Will not disappoint. Do you need a ride?” You offered.

“No, I’ve kept you long enough. I’ll get a cab or uber this time.” He lightly chuckled. He blushed and looked down at his hand, fiddling with his thumbs. “I’d, uh, like to stay in touch, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’d be,” You tried to contain your composure and settled on a word. “Cool.”

“Awesome.” His smile beamed. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

*** Three Months Later ***

Jensen stayed true to his word. The two of you occasionally chatted on the phone but mostly texted. Afraid to take advantage or worse, afraid to come off as annoying, you mainly waited for him to initiate the conversation. But every time you saw his name come across your screen, your heart raced and fluttered, and you couldn’t deny you longed to see him again.

Your phone chimed, and your toes curled with excitement seeing his message. ‘You free to talk.’

You stepped away from your desk, popping your head up above the cubicle wall, and looked both ways for lurking supervisors. You shot him back a quick ‘yes’ before sneaking away to find an empty office. His call came through as soon as you shut the door behind you.

Your heart fluttered. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Y/N. Hey, morning. Or is it afternoon? I can never keep track of the time difference.” He mumbled as you chuckled. “Anyways, how are you?”

“Oh, pretty much the same. Waiting for that clock to strike five so I can get outta here.”

“Right? My day’s just begun, and it’s already dragging.” His voice matched your sentiment.

“You filming?” You asked.

He yawned. “Yeah, eventually. In costume and makeup, but apparently, there is a lighting issue, so just running over some lines until it gets sorted out.”

“Hopefully, they figure it out soon, so you don’t have to pull another all-nighter this week.”

He scoffed. “Man, I hope not.” There was a brief silence. “So, I was thinking….” He paused.

“Yes?” You urged him to continue.

“Well.” He sighed, almost as if he was afraid to continue. “I have a proposition.” Silence again.

“What?” You tensed with anticipation. “What is it?”

“Okay, this might be totally crazy, and I understand if you can’t cause its last minute. But I was, uh, thinking, what if we redid our trip?” Jensen nervously stumbled through the proposal.

Your mind froze, unable to comprehend. “Uh… trip?”

“Yeah. You know, like the road trip to the convention. But we’ll plan it out this time, and I’ll be sober.” He softly laughed. “There’s one in Denver just over two weeks.”

You had trouble finding the words. “You want to drive together. To Denver?”

“Yeah!” He exclaimed. “I just got my schedule and have a few days off beforehand and was thinking it would be fun to redo our adventure but where I actually remember most of it.”

“You want to go on a road trip? To Denver? With me?” You couldn’t believe it. He had to have lost a bet.

He mistook your confusion for disinterest. “Yeah. I mean, if you can’t get off work or don’t want to, I understand….”

“No!” You interrupted. “I… I’m just a little shocked, but I’d love to!”

Jensen softly chuckled. “Awesome. I will be out to pick you up next Thursday. That way, we can split the journey into two nights and arrive by Saturday evening.”

You were still breathless, trying to comprehend this reality. “Yeah, okay. How can I help plan?”

“Hmm.” He thought about it for a second. “How about you handle the snacks and get a good playlist or podcast going, and I’ll have the rest taken care of.”

After the call, you held your phone to your heart, not entirely believing your reality, trying to piece together what would have prompted such an outlandish suggestion from him. Regardless of the questions swimming in your head, it would be impossible to focus on anything other than next Thursday.

Jensen ended the call with a beaming smile on his face. He had been dying to see you again and couldn't think of a better way to get to know you more. Over the phone was one thing, and you stayed friends, but perhaps this trip together could further the relationship and open up the possibility of something more. He sat down from his pacing, waiting for the lighting issue to resolve itself.

His co-star was not as enthused. As soon as the call ended, he abruptly dropped the script he was pretending to read as he shamelessly eavesdropped. He leaned over the side of his chair.

"Are you out of your mind?" Jared said in a low whisper.

Jensen brushed his knuckles against his lips, lost in thought, before realizing Jared had asked him a question. "What?" Only then did the words process, and he understood what had been said.

"She's a fan." Jared shifted, hoping to keep this conversation as private as possible for Jensen's sake.

"She's a friend." Jensen corrected.

Jared could barely keep from rolling his eyes. "Someone you've known for less than three months and only have met twice." He attempted to make his friend see reason. "And one of those times doesn't even count because you were blackout drunk."

Jensen's eyes narrowed. "I remember what happened." Most of it, he added only in his thoughts.

"That doesn't change the fact that you don't know anything about her." He said through gritted teeth. Jared was attempting to remain calm, to let his frustration not show, yet the very person he was trying to look out for was making that difficult.

"I know a lot about her. I know that she is loyal. I know she is selfless for not only saving my ass but the entire convention and asking for nothing in return. I know that she is honest. I know she has never once taken advantage of me or my status. Though she very well could have. Hell, I think she goes out of her way to ensure she doesn't." He paused. "Most importantly, I know how I feel about her."

Jared leaned back and scoffed. "How you feel about her?" His eyebrows raised. The inflection in his voice conveyed everything he thought about such a ridiculous notion.

"Don't look at me like that," Jensen said.

"Like what? I'm not…." Jared started.

"Like a condescending asshole. I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you do; you've been spiraling downward ever since Elena. I thought things were finally starting to look up. That is until you lost all sense of rationality…."

Jensen stood up and threw the unreviewed script in the chair. He was close to finished with this conversation. "I hit rock bottom three months ago, and Y/N pulled me out. I'm finally feeling like myself again after everything Elena put me through. Y/N's a big part of that. I know… I know you're just trying to look out for me, but once you meet her in Denver, I know you'll come around."

Jared crossed his arms, unconvinced. "If she takes one out of Stephen King's playbook and Misery's your ass, I'm not coming to save you."

Jensen's mouth hung in a horrified expression. "Thank you so much for putting that in my head."

He turned to leave, hopeful of getting an update on the lighting situation and if they'd be out before 3 AM this time.

"Was it enough to kick some sense into you?" Jared called with a smile.

Jensen shook his head but didn't look back, pressing forward. "Not in the slightest."

***

Once Thursday rolled around, you quickly learned that Jensen did not have the rest of the details taken care of. Late morning rolled, and he had texted you he was on his way from the car rental. You waited anxiously on the brick stoop with your suitcase and a snack basket ready to go. He soon pulled up your drive in the newest model Chevy Impala, painted black, of course. He stepped out of the car, sunglasses already in place, and flashed you a wide grin. You tried your best not to be starstruck, but you couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that this was happening. Sure, you talked occasionally, but it wasn’t like the two of you were on best friend/traveling buddy status.

“This is insane.” You muttered under your breath before matching his cheery expression.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed your name with arms open wide.

You met his embrace and squealed when he picked you up and spun you around.

“Ah! It has been too long.” You remarked once back on your feet. “How are you?” You squeezed his shoulders and then grew embarrassed from the contact. You withdrew your hands immediately and smoothed down your shirt.

“So much better now, you have no idea. A long weekend with nothing but driving is exactly what I need.” He beamed. “You good? You look good.” Jensen smirked.

You nervously laughed. “I’ve been good, but I'm glad you called; I've needed a break myself. Looks like you upgraded?” You pointed towards the Impala.

“Oh, not at all.” Jensen feigned heartbreak. “Nothing will ever be as good as baby, but the studio would never let me take her, so this is the second-best.”

“Well, I, for one, will appreciate the Bluetooth connection and modern AC.” You teased.

“That’s fair.” He agreed with your analyses. “Though I still think it’d be fun to get a ‘67 out on the road someday. Got everything you need?” He gestured towards the suitcase.

“And more. I’m a chronic over-packer. Never know what situation will arise or when you might need fifteen pairs of underwear for a long weekend.” You blushed when he chuckled. “Let’s get this show on the road before I divulge any more embarrassing tidbits.”

Jensen went for your suitcase. “I’d very much like to hear more embarrassing tidbits.”

You followed along with the snacks in tow as he brought your luggage to the trunk. “Seeing as we have a few days together, I’m sure you will be privy to several.”

As he put the suitcase in the trunk, you stuffed the snacks in the back seat within easy-reaching distance.

“Whose taking first shift?” You asked. “I’m happy to drive; you’ve probably been traveling quite a bit already.”

He swung around to the front. “I still got plenty of energy in me.” He flipped the keys once in his hand before settling in and starting the engine.

You slid into the passenger seat and got adjusted. “In that case, I’ll navigate.”

He put the car in gear, braced his arm on the passenger seat to get a good view out the window despite the rearview camera, and backed out of the driveway. You took a deep breath and tried to focus on anything but the flexing arm so close to you. Loose bits of gravel crunched underneath the weight of the tires.

“Just gotta head west, I assume.” He said once out on the road.

“Roughly, I guess.” When he didn’t elaborate further, you attempted to clarify. “Is there a hotel address for our first stop I can plug in?”

“Oh, not at all.”

He lifted his hand off the top of the steering wheel to check his speed as your heart beat a little faster, trying to understand what he meant.

“Thought it would be fun to do things the Winchester way.” He looked at you and grinned brightly.

“The.. . the Winchester way?” You tried to envision Sam and Dean driving down the road but came up blank, feeling like you missed out on an inside joke or something.

“Yeah, just driving ‘til we reach our destination and figuring out details along the way.” He explained. “Course with us; if we see something we want to stop at, we’ll stop, and maybe once we are ready for dinner, we can find a local motel or something. An old school single-level building, doors straight out to the parking lot, no vacancy signs.”

Your eyes went wide with panic, but you tried to contain it. “So just to confirm, when you said you’d figure out the details, the plan was to have no plan.”

“Yeah, I mean, I got the flight here and the car, but I was thinking how fun it would be for some spontaneity. See where the road takes us. And uh, based on what happens, I could channel the experience for some character inspiration.” After pulling up the ramp onto the highway, he looked you up and down, and realization dawned on him. “Oh god. You hate it, don’t you?”

“No. It’s great,” Your voice cracked. “If you’re into bed bugs and Norman Bates.” You mumbled the last part, but he still caught it.

Jensen chuckled. “If you hate it that much. We should have no trouble reaching Des Moines today. You can call and reserve us a spot at a Hilton or something.”

You took a long breath in. “No. It’ll be fine.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself. “Spontaneity, as you said. I can be spontaneous.”

He bit his lip. “Are you sure about that?” He teased.

You shot him a deadpan look as has he changed lanes to pass a semi. “Driving strangers to Tennessee on a whim. Not spontaneous at all.”

He raised a free hand in surrender. “Fair. Fair.” He agreed.

After a few moments, you broke the silence. “So what are we listening to?”

“Oh, I don’t care. You pick.” He offered.

You smiled, setting up the Bluetooth. “That is not the Winchester way.” He glanced at you, confused. “Driver..”

It hit him, and he joined you in saying, “Picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole.”

“Uhhh…” He racked his brain. “TV Girl.” He finally settled on a band.

You brought it up on Spotify, starting with their first album. And let the music settle in. “Interesting. Not what I expected.”

“And what were you expecting? Despite mine and Dean’s persona, it's not country and rock n’ roll 24/7.”

“Blasphemy.” You interjected.

Jensen chuckled. “I change up my listening patterns quite a bit to help stay sane. But don’t look so distraught; plenty of Zeppelin will come.”

You passed the time with ease, conversing with things like books, shows, hobbies, work, and family. Though you were glad Jensen was in a better place than when you first journeyed with him, you could tell this time around he had a better filter in terms of disclosing too much personal information or continuous flirting.

“So, uh, what did you tell your friends and family about this trip?” Subtly Jensen was hoping you’d divulge what you’ve shared about him to those closest to you.

“That I got the spontaneous urge to go hiking.”

Jensen shook his head, pressing his lips together containing a grin, knowing you were still salty about his earlier comment. “Were they shocked 'cause that’s so unlike you?” He teased.

You nudged him with your elbow, and the car swerved slightly in response, but he only chuckled.

“They were excited that I was braving out on an adventure on my own, trying new things, and hopeful that a handsome man would save me when I inevitably twist my ankle miles into the trek.” You defended, trying to morph their initial concern and worry into something positive. “Sometimes it is hard being single when everyone around has their somebody.”

He nodded his agreement and understanding.

“Sometimes it makes life more exciting too.” You added, knowing you would never have stumbled across this opportunity if you had been tied down.

Jensen wrung the steering wheel in his hand, lost in his thoughts. It seemed everyone around him had already found their someone, while he jumped from one relationship to the next. He thought he had found the one with Elena, but as soon as that dick with bigger star power swept her up, he quickly realized she was using him to get ahead and make a name for herself.

He cleared his throat, breaking the thought. “So you didn’t tell them you were already traveling with a handsome guy who will be sure to save you if anything should arise?”

“No, no, no. That would have brought about way too many questions.” You were horrified at the thought of explaining it all to them and breaking Jensen’s privacy.

“Do they know about us at all?” He asked, and you gulped, the phrasing as if you were in a relationship.

You stretched out the words, uncomfortable with how many truths you had skirted around them. “They know there’s a guy I occasionally talk to, but nothing serious or details or anything like that.”

Jensen huffed out a laugh. “Just so you are aware, that could quickly change if we are spotted together. I try to keep a private life, but it's not always guaranteed. You might want to consider if they’ll take it better finding out from Instagram or directly from you. Coming from you would also give you a chance to dispel potential rumors or gossip.”

“Yeah.” You thoughtfully considered. “I guess being spotted together is such a slight chance, and if it did happen, it would just give us more time before I turn into another leech asking you for favors cause this person will want an autograph, and this person will want a meet you.” You raised your hands and shook them, exasperated. “Ah! This dynamic between us sucks.”

“Hey,” It was his turn to nudge you. Not teasingly but meant as encouragement. “It’s not that bad, I promise. It’s part of the job that I’m used to. And leech? That’s a pretty harsh word. I think I’d recognized if you were a leech by now.”

You laughed defeatedly. “Leech was one of the kinder words you used to describe everyone around you last time we were in a car together. And you were inclined to be more honest in that conversation.”

He sighed and thought about it as he passed another string of cars. The yellow fields around you broke way into a dense forest and then back again.

“I was in a bad place, Y/N.” As if driven by instinct, he reached over, about to nestle his hand on your thigh but caught himself. He placed it on the gear stick instead. “I don’t know what I told you or what you already know, but I had recently been dumped. I thought Elena was the one. Even went out looking at rings once. But she told me she wanted to be in the movies and that I didn’t have the talent or status to get her there. And so she found someone else who did. That, combined with The Family Business, conventions, and everything else, I let the stress win. I’m in a much better place now and would never think that of you.”

Though you were grateful he was being open with you, you still found it hard to buy. “Your rational mind says that, but in your subconscious….” A loud gurgle cut you off.

Jensen laughed as another rumble, even louder than the last, practically echoed through the car. He was relieved that the serious tone had been interrupted.

“Good to know. You get hangry.” He concluded.

“You have to be angry to be hangry.” You corrected.

“Well, hangry is a lot easier than combining hungry and despairingly pessimistic.” He joked.

“I’m not that hungry.” You tried to defend until your stomach betrayed you again.

He tried and failed to hold in another chuckle. “Well, I am. So let’s put all those snacks you brought to use.”

You caved easily. “Fine. What do you want?”

You turned around in your seat to start fishing.

“Whatever you're having. Just to tide us over until we can find a decent spot for lunch.”

“Fuck.” You cursed. The basket had slid to the driver’s side at some point during the trip. “Hold on a second.”

You unbuckled, causing an annoying beeping to start sounding as you crawled over the console, half of you in the back, and your ass, unbeknownst to you, at an optimal angle for Jensen’s viewing. As you reached for the basket and sorted through the choices, Jensen did his best to keep his eyes on the road. He failed when he caught a glance in the rearview mirror and automatically turned over his shoulder for a better view.

Quickly he snapped his attention back to the road, then looked up as if there was a god in heaven that could deliver him. He licked his bottom lip and pressed them together, unsure if he wanted to be saved.

Shuffling, you returned up and clicked the seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about that.” You said, completely unaware of his dilemma. “Cheezits or granola bar?”

His mind was still elsewhere. “Yeah, um, sure.”

“Course there’s more back there those don’t satisfy.” You offered, your mood already lightened with food in hand.

“No, no.” He objected. “A granola bar sounds great.”

You unwrapped the top half and handed it to him.

“Thanks.” He said before taking another slide glance at you.

His heart pounded against his chest, like a caged bird flapping its wings. He chuckled to himself once more before taking a bite. A blood-sucking parasite was the farthest thing from his mind when thinking about you, subconscious or otherwise. He desperately hoped he had the strength not to fuck this up. TV Girl was still playing in the background. The track Every Stupid Actress came on, and despite the chill vibes, he loathed the lyrics.

"It's time for Zeppelin." He announced.

"Finally!" You exclaimed, shifting focus from snacks to changing tracks.

---

Part 4

#jensen ackles #jensen x you #jensen x y/n #jensen x reader #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #spn fandom #get him to the con

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hybeboyenthusisast · 28 days

Text

➺ nineteen (the end)

prev | masterlist |

a/n: not too happy with this smau and how it turned out, but you can look forward to the teacher!babydaddy!soobin smau that I will begin working on soon. My permanent taglist is open, so if you would like to join, send an ask/message/or comment! Thank you so much for the support, I hope to see some of you lovely readers again in the future!

With college parties, the concept of being late was almost nonexistent. If you showed up at 8 pm, 12 am, or sometimes even 3 am, you'd find your chosen party stuffed full of sweaty bodies, loud music, and alcohol spilling all over the place. Parties on this campus seemed to never end, but maybe that was because you tended to not remember how they ended.

While you were aware that arriving at 9 pm to the party at whatever-whoever fraternity house was not considered late, you knew before Beomgyu even opened his mouth that he would spout some nonsense about you being so late that the party was over.

He was right, as you had promised you were right behind him when he left for the party at 7. You lied.

As soon as you left your dorm, you went straight to the Alpha Phi fraternity house. Seeing as most of the members were already at the party or busy doing their own thing, there was a semblance of privacy for you and your new boyfriend.

Two hours later, with your makeup and hair redone, dress put back into place, you were hoping your brother would be tipsy enough to not notice the blue and purple splotches along your collarbone.

"Everyone's gonna see," You had reminded Soobin in a whiny tone while he sucked on your skin. He had popped off with a wet sound, smirking at you.

"That's the point," Soobin practically growled. "Want everyone to know you're mine."

Now as you entered the party, Soobin's arm around your waist, it was obvious that he had accomplished exactly that. You found yourself musing over the fact that even at a party, nobody had anything better to do than whisper about the two of you.

"Hey, you made it!" Jay patted Soobin on the shoulder, pushing a red solo cup in his hand. "I don't know what Han put in this, but it's nasty. Enjoy."

You laughed as Soobin sniffed the drink, scrunching his noise up at the smell. You took the cup from his hand, bringing it to your lips with no hesitation. Jay barked out a laugh while Soobin's jaw dropped, the two of them watching you drink whatever was in the cup.

You shrugged, "Better than half the shit Beomgyu mixes together. He's a shit bartender."

Soobin shakes his head in wonder, Jay having wandered off already. "You're crazy, baby."

You grinned, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the middle of the house. The kitchen had to be somewhere, after all. While you were able to drink the crap Jay had pawned off on you, you and Soobin both deserved a good drink.

Beomgyu's screams instantly had your attention, turning in the direction they came from. Even if the music was blasting, you could unfortunately hear your twin far easier than others. Twin thing, perhaps, or maybe survival instincts. One moment you were holding Soobin's hand, the next you were squished up against Beomgyu's chest as he cradled you.

"What the fu-" You began saying before he fully smushed your face against his chest. You swatted at him, pushing him away so you could breathe.

"I missed you, where were you? Why are you so late? Did you get lost?" Your brother had definitely consumed more alcohol than you expected.

Soobin stood awkwardly to the side as he watched you and your brother interact. He and Beomgyu still weren't super friendly, but both had begun making the effort to get along. "Can I have my girlfriend back?"

Beomgyu shook his head, trying to hold onto you as you untangled yourself from his grasp. "Gyu, you need to learn how to share," you flicked his nose.

Soobin snickered at Beomgyu's loud cry of protest, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I'll grab us some drinks, baby, I'll be right back."

The entire time Soobin was in the kitchen, refusing to try anything mixed together by Han, you and your brother were squabbling like children. You hadn't even realized Soobin was taking longer than it took to get drinks, not until he returned to your field of vision with a girl hanging onto his arm.

Soobin was incredibly uncomfortable. He had only left you to get drinks, preferably ones not mixed by Han, and found himself cornered by two girls he had never seen in his life.

"Soobin, what are you doing all alone? Did your plaything leave you?" One of the girls pouted in fake sympathy, placing her hand on his arm.

The other girl joined in, "We can keep you company, Soobinnie, doesn't that sound fun?"

Soobin eyed the scantily clad pair cautiously, trying to think of a way to run away and return to you as quickly as possible. He didn't want to push them out of his way in case one of them accidentally got hurt, but he really just wanted to be back by your side. "You're in my way. My girlfriend is waiting for me."

The girls both laughed, moving closer to Soobin. "Be real, she's not your girlfriend. You hate her, everyone knows that," one of them said with an eyeroll.

"Why did you lie about her being with you? We all know that isn't true," the other chimed in.

Soobin sighed, feeling his frustration building. They had a point; it did seem like a lie that he had slept with the one person he so publicly hated, even coming to her defense. But it was true, and Soobin only cared if you knew that. "My relationship is none of your business. Yn and I had a difficult past but we have been able to work through it and move onto something better. It's really sad that the two of you have such empty lives that you have nothing better to do than attempt to ruin someone else's. Good luck with that."

Soobin had broken free, leaving the girls stunned as he pushed past them, frustrated by their comments. He was fine if people wanted to gossip about him, but he wanted you to be left out of it. Drinks in hand, he was finally on his way back to your side.

He was sipping his own drink as he approached the arguing twins, quietly wondering what you were fighting over now, when one of the irritating girls returned. She latched onto his arm, walking alongside him as he moved.

This is when you noticed, a frown instantly forming on your face. Beomgyu's whines quieted as he noticed the shift in your behavior, turning to see what you were looking at. His frown matched your own, watching as Soobin spoke to the girl attached to his side.

You had no idea what was going on; surely Soobin wasn't running off with another girl, so what was going on? The girl looked far too cozy, fluttering her eyelashes as she stared up at Soobin. You and Beomgyu made your way over, pushing through the groups of people in the way.

"Hi baby, what took you so long?" You asked Soobin cheerfully, completely ignoring the girl on his side. Soobin was still tense, trying to pull his arm out of the girl's grasp, but he looked more relaxed with your presence. "This one mine?" You pointed at one of the cups, taking it from him before he could respond. With one of his hands finally free, he pried the girl's grip off his arm, instantly moving towards you.

Beomgyu stepped in, immediately questioning the girl in a way that he knew would annoy her and get her to leave. Soobin grabbed your hand, leading you to the backyard.

"You alright, honey?" You asked him, cupping his cheek and gently rubbing your thumb against his cheek as he leaned against the side of the house.

Soobin sighed, leaning into your touch. "Yeah, I was cornered by that girl and her friend, asking me the stupidest questions. Guess people are gossiping about us, but we shouldn't care what they say. You know how I feel about you, you know this is real."

You stood on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "I know, baby. Whatever happens, we face it together, yeah?"

Soobin nodded in agreement, pulling you in by your hips. "I won't lie, though, the idea of really showing off that you're my girl, is really hot."

You laughed, kissing his cheek. "Let's go put on a show, then."

Loser Taglist : @yangwaa @izzyexe @reiiydained @mackjestic @yawn-zzns @browniestraykidshiteu @n034sy @ladyartemesia @shenquanruii @vixensss @marshmallowywine

Permanent Taglist (open): @junnmizz @ashxxgyu @igotkpoops @xiaoderrrr @alyssajavenss @mintxts <3

#hybeboyenthusiast #txt smut #txt social media au #txt hard hours #soobin smau #soobin fluff #soobin smut #loser #txt soobin #choi soobin #soobin x reader #txt choi soobin #soobin hard thoughts #soobin series #soobin social media au #soobin hard hours

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tragiclilb · 2 years

Text

☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ YOUR NAME ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

(Alex can’t get your name out of his mouth)

(Warnings: fluff, lots, horrible amounts, drinking)

(A/n: Yes I know this should have been more than a oneshot unfortunately i’m a little bitch who refuses)

(Words: 1858)

“Please I swear it will be fun!” He said pulling me into his room.

“Alex, you said that the last party. And we know how that turned out.” I said giving him a telling look.

In the past 4 months he’s had a track record of bad party experiences. He for some reason couldn’t leave a party with out making a girl mad. Each girl seemingly not only furious with him but me as well after. I just have learned to assume it’s because I’m his best mate but, it still always felt a bit odd.

We would go to a party, he would get shit faced, and 2 hours later I would have a girl storming up to me, saying I should deal with him. And I was not looking forward to spending my Friday like that this time.

“Please I’ll do anything. I just need you there.” He said giving me a pouty look. His dark, shoulder length hair falling in-front of his face. Sometimes he’s just so exhausting.

“Oh fine. But this is the last party, I swear.”

“Thank you! Well, we better get going, we’re already late.” He smiles wide and drags me to the car.

“So you sleeping over at mine?” I make sure to ask ahead of time. Knowing I’ll be driving home.

“Yeah, sounds good.” He nods pulling his jacket back in place after the buckle tossed it around. He starts the engine and rolls away driving down a few streets to the house party.

We pull up and immediately I can see it’s already packed. We walk in, the music pounding are ears. It’s some trashy pop song that came out last year. We both looked at each other and laughed a bit at the sound.

“I’ll go get us some drinks, okay?” He yells over the noise.

“Okay sounds good.” I say and he walks away to the kitchen.

I wander around for a while looking to see if I could finds anyone I know. Old friends from when we where in school always tend to show up at these things.

I search around till at the stairs I see Emma, one of my said school friends. She meets my eyes and runs down the stairs her long blonde hair swaying behind her. She was still as gorgeous as ever. She was the type of person in school who everyone was drawn to. She was insanely popular, but kind as well. It’s almost annoying.

“Hi, how have you been.” She smiles.

“Pretty good actually, I’ve been traveling around with the boys for a while. Where back in town for a break though.” I explain and she nods smirking to herself.

“You still hopelessly in love with turner?” She laughs and I fight the urge to smack my hands over her mouth.

“Shhhh, he’s somewhere around here, also we don’t talk about that. It was years ago.” I say looking around panicked. Hoping he didn’t overhear.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry, it was a sweet crush though, you where head over heels.” She giggles, just then I feel a tap on my shoulder.

“For who?” Alex asks innocently, obviously already multiple drinks in.

“No one, just an old school crush.” I say covering for myself. He looks at me with suspicious eyes. He probably noticed he was staring to long so he shakes his head looking down. The drinks obviously getting to him.

“Hey come on, let’s do shots.” He says getting out of his momentary funk grabbing my shoulders.

“Alex, I’m staying sober tonight, you know this. I have to drive you home.” I say and he sighs loudly.

“Your no fun.” He runs his hands through his hair letting go of me and walking to the counter. He takes 3 more shots and scoffs. I feel bad so I walk over to him leaning against the counter next to him. He puts his hand out for me and I grab it. He fiddles with my fingers. Picking at my nail polish which I’ll just have to re apply later.

“I’m sorry for dragging you along, I know you don’t like this stuff.” He says turning to look at me.

“It’s okay, I’m pretty sure I go anywhere you go anyways.” I say jokingly and he smiles to himself getting pink in the face. Probably the alcohol heating him up. He looks back up to my eyes.

“You…. You have really pretty eyes.” He says looking dazed. He makes it so hard to forget about my feelings. He loves to say horribly sweet things when he’s out of it. It’s another reason I didn’t want to come to the party. It hurts hearing him say things I wish he actually felt, only for him to go try and make out with random girls a few minutes later.

“Yeah yeah okay, I’m gonna go get you some water.” I say and go to the back yard looking for a cooler.

Much to my dismay the cooler happened to be In the front yards for some reason. So after 10 minutes of traveling between people and searching for it, I found it and grabbed a few waters. I’m about to walk back in the kitchen when Emma walks up to me.

“Your not gonna believe this. Alex just tried to make out with me. I mean he didn’t hide how insanely drunk he was so his oddness makes sense.” She says looking uncomfortable.

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” I apologize for my best friends behavior.

“You know, he said something weird.” She enquirers.

“Huh?”

“He asked if He could call me your name.” She says funnily.

“Are you kidding?” I say shocked.

“No I swear. I mean he seemed so upset when I walked in the kitchen. He was downing a drink and I asked if he was okay. He kept asking where you had gone.”

“He so dramatic, I told him I was getting water.”

“He was probably to out of it. But I swear he sounded like you used to in school. Him getting all gushy about you.” She laughs. “I swear he’s just as infatuated with you as you where with him. Asking to call me your name and such.” She explains and my eyes go wide. I mean that’s insane right? We’ve been best friends since children.

“Why wouldn’t he just say something to me about it then?” I ask tuning my hand across my face, stressed. I wouldn’t be lying if I said I still felt the same. Watching him over these past few years. Performing the way he does. Getting to sit on the side and watch him. The way his hair fell as he played the guitar. Or the smooth sound of his voice ringing through my ears. He’s entrancing really.

But he always seemed so out of reach when it came to my feelings. He was a star. Who had all the options he wanted. Groupies and such. Why would he want me? So I never acted.

“Well, why didn’t you?” She says giving me a knowing look. “I think you should go speak to him.” She pats my shoulder and sends me into the kitchen. I walk in and I see him hunched over the counter fiddling with an empty shot glass. I walk over taking the shot glass out of his hands, setting it down. I grab his hand and lead the pouting man through the crowd, back out to the car.

“Why are we leaving so soon?” He asks slurred.

“Sweetheart, your drunk of your ass.”

“That’s beside the point.” He rolls his eyes, a big yawn taking over a few seconds later.

He leans his head on my shoulder and without answering his question I drive back to my place. Somehow I get him upstairs into bed without him passing out.

“Darling…” he says his hair falling over his eyes as he lays down.

“Yeah.” I say in the doorway about to head to the couch.

“I wrote a song about you.” He softly grins.

“Oh yeah? Can I hear it?”

“Maybe one day.” He giggles to himself and I can tell he’s to far gone.

“Goodnight Alex.” I say closing the door and going out to the couch.

When I woke the next morning I saw Alex sitting in the chair by the couch. He was drinking something hot as I could see the steam from the cup. I sat up and rubbed my eyes yawning.

“Morning.” He says softly as I get up and walk to the counter boiling some water, and grabbing a tea bag.

“Morning.” I respond in the same soft manner.

“Could we talk about last night.” He asks as I sit back down.

“Yeah I actually wanted to speak about that.” I say and he seams nervous.

“Alex… why did Emma from school tell me you asked to call her my name, before kissing her?” I said being quite blunt with it. If I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

“I- oh god, I’m a mess when I’m drunk aren’t I?” He says trying to laugh it off.

“Alex, be honest with me here, cause I don’t understand how you can say all theses complements and being dare I say flirtatious one minute, and then going and asking to call girls my name if you don’t feel some way…. About me.” I say cautiously. If this goes wrong I’m losing my best friend.

“You’re not wrong.” He says awkwardly.

“I’m not?” I say a bit flabbergasted. But mostly relieved.

“You just… hypnotize me. I can’t explain it. I don’t even know why it took me so long to realize it to be honest.” He says tucking his hair behind his ears. His dark eyes where big, almost surprised at the fact he was saying what he was saying out loud.

“But these past few months, I keep trying to tell you, but I would say something and you’d shoot me down. I would go find some girl to take my mind off you. But it never works. Cause….. cause there not you.”

Oh.

“I’ve loved you since I was thirteen.” I say and I don’t think I’ve ever seen his face flash into a smile so big.

“Well that’s bloody good to hear.” He says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, it’s just, you could chose anyone you wanted. Girls fawn over you. I just didn’t think it’d be me.” I say honestly and he gets up walking over to me.

“You daft woman.” He says scanning my face. I was confused for a second till he placed a hand to my cheek. His fingers ruff from the years of guitar. His eyes bore into mine making my knees week as he pulled me up. He placed a innocent kiss to my lips. It was almost like an apology for lost time we could of had if we where smarter. It was slow and sensual. His finger tips ended up in my hair as we pulled away.

“I’m infatuated with you.” He grins and I smile wide.

#Spotify #alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #alex turner fluff #alex turner angst

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lexa-griffins · 9 months

Note

Accidental stimulation trope between Alpha Clarke and Omega Lexa

Maybe Clarke goes to the doctor for her physical where Lexa is her nurse/doctor. During her checkup, Lexa brushes against Clarke's crotch and gives her a boner underneath her hospital gown. They're both embarrassed so Lexa offers to help Clarke get rid of it

👀

Clarke has kind of been putting out going to the doctor for her physical for... months now. Its not that Clarke dislikes doctors but frankly having lived with one most of her life, she just doesnt have the patience. However she finally decided to drag her ass to the doctor and get it done.

And then immediately want to leave when her usual doctor isnt in and some doctor Woods is the one to see her.

Clarke's doctor is this older beta who always looks unimpressed with just about anything, constantly reminding Clarke that nothing looks bad but that it could look much better if she had a healthier lifestyle. Its nice, predictable. Always the same old.

As she sits on the medical table playing with her thumbs she hears the door opened and she didnt really expect a hot, 30 something omega to be the one to greet her. She doesnt smile particularly but she isnt rude either, which is already a nice change of pace.

Clarke admits she has to hold her breath anytime she touches her somewhere during the exam. Which does seem to cause some confusion for the doctor who asks her if she caused her any pain and seems to doubt Clarke when she answers no.

Its when Clarke is laying on her back and the doctor is pressing on her stomach that disaster strikes. Clarke's been doing great at not staring at the small hint of cleavege dr woods open coat shows through her shirt, or the way said coat clings to her ass when she bends over to pick anything. Or just how nice and pillowy her lips look and or she wonders how they must look like around-

Oh. Something... something brushed her. In her little alpha special place.

"Oh, sorry."

"Its fine."

It isnt. And she knows the omega knows it isnt. Because horny smells like horny and if the doctor didnt catch the scent, the obvious tent is Clarke's jeans is more than a dead give away.

"Oh." Its all the doctor says when she catches the very obvious boner.

"Oh my god, im so sorry." Clarke wonders is she can just grab her shit and run away. Well, she isnt sure she can run right now. Maybe waddle away?

"Does this happen often with you? Getting erect this fast?"

Jesus fuck "I mean, I guess. Its pretty sensitive most of the time."

The doctor looks very pretty when she's thinking this hard. Christ Griffin.

"May I?" The dr Woods hand go for her zipper and Clarke wonders is this is actually happening.

"Hm. Sure?" Real stellar confident alpha energy there.

Her bone pops out of her pants, standing full mast proudly. Fine day to go commando.

"Do you have hard time making it go soft afterwards?"

"Sometimes. I usually need to... go at it for a bit."

The doctor nods, staring at her dick, "Given your size I'd say is expected, rather impressive."

Weirst mental high five of Clarke's life really. Thats all Clarke expected. The doctor turns away, leaving Clarke on the bed with dick fully out and the alpha is trying to gain the courage to ask if she can put it away. That is until the doctor turns around. Her coat has been discarded on the chair, and her hair is being pulled up in a ponytail. Her blue gloves are also gone.

"It would be of very bad hospitality of me to let you go outside with a boner I provoked in the first place. So I'm just gonna ask to relax and take a deep breath for me, could you do that, Clarke?" The doctor explains and she sits on the small rolling bech right by Clarke's crotch on the bed.

What the fuck is she supposed to do? Say no to the hot doctor who wants to turn her dreaded physical into a damn porno?

"Go ahead?"

Clarke has had some wild ass fantasies. But watching her very very hot doctor grab her dick and lick the tip of her head was definitely not one she thought would come true. And really, all Clarke can do is watch and fucking /feel/.

Because oh is this woman good with her fucking mouth.

"Ah, dr-"

"Lexa."

"Hm?"

"Lexa, my name's Lexa. Might as well have you know my real name." Lexa says with a smirk and Clarke nods. Smoothly, the doctor drops her head again, this time wrapping her lips entirely around Clarke's head.

Damn, what an omega.

Clarke is sure she'll wake up at any time now. But she doesn't. And the doctor keeps on taking more andore of her dick inside of her mouth, up until the point she clearly cant anymore, and her hand comes to stroke the few inches she is unable to keep inside.

She is a fucking professional, Clarke will give her that. Clarke cant recall ever being this ready to cum in so little time.

"Fuck, Lexa, I'm gonna... ah"

Lexa brings her head up, continuing to stroke the base of Clarke's dick, "Go ahead. Id rather you do it in my mouth so its a easier clean up."

Clarke truly wants to say something that makes her sound hot and confident. Instead all she does is nod and moan as Lexa's mouth wraps around her again.

She feels the soft tonguenof the doctor lick her head once more and Clarke cant hold it anymore.

The sight of the woman swallowing her cum without any trouble could make her cum again. And yet, she doesnt feel fully satisfied.

"Is it normal for your knot to form when you arent in rut?"

Oh yeah. That makes sense, "I think I am in rut."

Lexa chuckles and for the first time aince she got here Clarke sees her smile. In her post nut alpha brain. She swear she looks like an angel.

"You are... quite impressive." Coat back on, Lexa sits in her chair typing something on her computer as Clarke sits awkwardly on the chair, dick safe and soft back in her pants, "Very girthy for an alpha your age and height." Theres a pause as if the doctor is trying to collect herself, "you are also very healthy, I no real pointers for you. You may need to drink a little more water. You talked a obout feeling a little cooped up even when you go outside so joining a gym might do you somd good, some alphas tend to find it helps them manage adrenaline. Other than that,"

Clarke watches her scribble something on a small piece of paper and sign a few papers for Clarke's suppressants.

"You're good to go. Your regular doctor should be back in next time you come here. I do hope to see you again tho."

Clarke isnt really sure what to say. Thank you for sucking me off, it was great meeting you?, "yeah you too. And thank you. For... you know..."

Lexa bites her lip, "my pleasure."

Clarke is already in her car when she looks down at the small card Lexa gave her.

Dr Woods. Primary Care.

Underneath theres a number that Clarke assumes to be her professional one scratched out. Next to it, with a hand writting far too pretty for a doctor, is a newer number with a heart beside her.

Guess Lexa isnt expecting to see her again as a patient.

#letter opened #wanheda's dagger #🫣 this one is awful im so sorry

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youmarin · 1 year

Text

Carved Into Our Hearts | Minho x Reader!

A/N: Is The Maze Runner fandom dead? Turns out not as much as I thought it was (as I go through the Minho tag. There are posts from last yr so let's see if I'm not wrong). I watched the movies again after so long (I’m still traumatized by Newt’s death so that keeps me from watching them often) this weekend and as a result my obsession with this story returned. Whatever this is that I just finished writing down popped into my head today and I had to get it out. It is set before the maze so I made a bunch of shit up (I haven’t read the prequels so if we have more details of stuff before the maze they’re unknown to me). Also I don’t know how it never occurred to me to write for TMR during my strong phase as a fan. It’s my first time writing for it since I know about fanfics, Wattpad, Tumblr, AO3 and all that - and I know about this since looong ago xd-. But here you have it. Surprises even me that I started the year by bringing this to my blog. And we’re starting with none other than Minho! Pls forgive me if this ain’t that good *covers her eyes*. Seriously, the toughest part was naming this T-T.

Word count: +3.1K

Summary: After spending most of your childhood on a WICKED facility, you start to question your place in there once you reach your teens. This only increases when people start disappearing. Things turn even worse when you and your closest friend (and the boy you like) try to look for answers and come too close to uncover their objectives.

Genre: sci-fi, mystery, thriller. A dash of romance sprinkled there. It's angsty.

tw (Do I really need to put these if you know what the story is about? But just in case): Mental and physical abuse, drowning (?), death mention, cursing. idk if left smthn.

You stared at the little boy across from you as you both sat in the small waiting room. Dressed in white, just like you, his black hair nicely trimmed covering his forehead. His arms crossed in front of his chest, he looked around, seemingly unhappy to be there. He noticed you looking, then looked towards the men in uniform that stood near every door and back at you.

“Hey.” He whispered.

“Hey.”

“What’s your name?” he asked you.

“Y/N. What’s yours?” your big, curious eyes looked over at him expectantly.

“I’m Minho.”

“Nice to meet you.” Your dad had taught you that was what you said when you met someone. That, and to shake hands, but you didn’t dare to stand and walk over to him in case that would make the guards mad. You exchanged a smile instead.

Then, the door to the lab opened and a woman came for you, taking you into the room. You looked over your shoulder as she nudged you inside and waved back at Minho.

After that, he met with you in the equally white common room. He called you over to the table he sat on with other boys at the time of your meals and presented them to you. When he didn’t feel like sharing the attention of his new friend he’ll tell you to sit somewhere else and both of you would go to a separate table. One of the boys, the blonde boy, would stick out his tongue at you when Minho did that, making you giggle and as a result he’d grin before turning to his other dark haired friend and leaving you two alone. He’ll sneak into the girls section to get to your room sometimes, and you’ll talk and make up games. Before the guards made their rounds, he’ll hurry to sneak back to his room but not before wishing you a good night.

As you grew, your relationship with Minho did too. You two were rarely away from each other, apart from when you slept, when they called you to the lab to run some tests or while you completed your assigned tasks - and even then, you’d glance at each other through the holographic screens and share a knowing smile.

The thing was, Minho had always been quite the problematic kid to the people who ran the place. It wasn’t a surprise when he reached his teens and got more rebellious, non-compliant and impulsive. You understood him, for each time things started to turn more and more suspicious.

One day, you watched as he was pulled in by a guard into the common room. His eyes immediately searched for you, and when he did he smiled yet seeing the worried look in your eyes he hurried over to you.

“What’s wrong?”

Another one of your friends was missing. You had asked one of the guards about it, but they just said they had to take him somewhere else.

“It’s obvious they want something from us. The tests, the stupid stuff they make us do everyday. I’m getting tired of people pricking and prodding at my skin and all the beeps from machines.” He said, and honestly, you were too.

“But what can we do?” No one would tell you anything besides the same words: what you were doing there will someday help the entirety of humanity. But what the hell were you doing? What was going on outside? And where the hell were they taking the others? Would you end up there too?

First, you tried entering into the information systems during the time you were supposed to work on your daily assignment. You eyed the guards subtly and Minho kept watch for the woman who supervised you. You thought some of the others were staring at you while you worked but told yourself maybe you were being paranoid.

“I couldn’t find anything. There’s no access from our stations.” You told him later that night when he snuck into your room.

He muttered a curse, looking down as he thought of something else. Then the idea popped up in his head.There was a room where you saw the men and women dressed in white gowns disappear into every day. It was labelled with bold, white letters as ACCESS TO PERSONNEL ONLY. You will sneak inside. But you needed a key.

Before he could tell you, the heavy door opened and a guard was pulling Minho to stand up from your bed.

“What the hell are you doing here, kid?”

Minho shook away from the guard’s hold harshly. “Get your hands off me.” Then he pushed him.

The guard didn’t like that, and smacked Minho with his baton. That was the first time you saw a guard actually hit one of you, “Minho!” you rushed to his side as the boy stumbled. “What is wrong with you?” you sneered to the guard as you noticed the small cut on Minho’s temple. But the guard pulled him away from your grasp and out of your room.

Ever since that day, the guards grew more aware of you two, surveilling your every move and doing everything to keep you apart. But Minho noticed how fatigued you looked each day when they brought you to the common room from the labs. He frowned, worried and frustrated to not be able to reach you. You weren’t even looking at him anymore. They had done something to you.

Finally, one night he snuck inside your room again. Since they had taken away your “privilege” of having the doors unlocked, he had to look for another option: the vents.

Startled by the sound of the lid of the vents hitting the ground and sliding on the floor from under your bed, you looked down from your position, your head upside down and your hair touching the floor.

“Minho!” you exclaimed surprised and almost smiled before your expression denoted your concern, then it appeared to go blank, “You can’t be here.” you warned him as he slid out from under your bed.

“Are you okay?” He ignored you, grabbing your face in his hands.

“You can’t be here.” he followed your worried gaze to the door.

“It’s alright. Hey, hey, what have they done to you?” He kept inspecting you. You had dark circles under your eyes, and a far look on your face. When your gaze focused again on him, tears were threatening to fall from your eyes.

“I thought they’d hurt you, but then I saw you back in the common room and you were alright.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t make out what was real and what wasn’t. I tried to protect you.” He didn’t understand what you meant.

“I’m right here.” He tried reassuring you. “Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m right with you. I’m okay.”

You brought your hands up to his face much like he had done earlier. It was real, he was okay. You noticed the small cut on his temple and brushed your thumb gently over it. Looking at him in the eye you smiled and he gave your forehead a kiss.

“Listen. We’re going to find out what’s happening here, okay? ” He explained to you his plan. “And we’ll get out of here. We’ll get our friends, everyone out.”

The next couple of days, Minho behaved himself, which got the guards and everyone pleased and as promised, he reached you again when he had succeeded in getting his hands on a key.

You snuck into the vents and the corridors during the night, ducking to avoid the motion-activated lights placed every few meters on the walls. When you reached the end of the hall, you looked around to find the door you were looking for. Minho was about to lean to look when you extended your arm to prevent him from doing so. You placed your index to your mouth telling him to keep it quiet. Someone had come out of the room, the door locking after them. Thankfully, they went down another hall. Next you were both dashing towards it. Minho grabbed the key and slid it on the door lock. When it gave you access, you pushed it open carefully.

The room was dim litted, glowing a pale blue. There was more strange equipment inside, more holographic screens with pictures of people with records and stats at their sides, an entire wall of what looked like small safes, all of them locked. There were a couple of tables. You walked towards them as Minho glanced at the screens.

The table you loomed over was a smart table, displaying what seemed like the blueprints of a large building. More like a maze. You frowned, then heard Minho speak up, stealing your attention, “These are some of the guys that are gone.” He turned to look at you, confused over the discovery.

“Are they okay?” You asked and went over to his side. Inspecting the screens, you were relieved to see most of them were, until you reached the last one and saw written in bold red font: DECEASED. You looked at each other, horrified.

“Where do you think they took them?” He asked you and you turned to look at the smart table. He followed your gaze, “What-What the hell is that?”

But as he started to make his way over it, you heard the boom from the door unlocking. Quickly, you grabbed his arm and pulled him with you to hide, cornered between the wall and the control panel under the screens.

Minho crawled until he reached the other corner of the control panel, seeing a bigger screen appear at the end of the room, holograming a woman dressed in all white just like them, who spoke to the person that had walked in, another woman.

“How is the transfer process?” the woman asked.

“We’ve reached halfway and have sent a considerable group already.” She tried to make it sound as if everything was going perfect. But the other woman, who seemed to be the one in charge, knew better.

“I’ve heard there’s been a couple of setbacks.”

“Oh. yes. One-one of the subjects died this morning in an accident. Nothing to worry about. He wasn’t one of the brightest nor of the immune ones.”

“What about y/n and the Minho boy?” You both grew even more wary, if possible, at the mention of your names.

“We’ve dealt with it. In fact the situation turned out to be beneficial. The tests we’ve run on her have come with promising results. Once she’s transferred I’ve no doubt the odds on her will increase. The boy is brilliant too, although he keeps growing more suspicious and uncontrollable ever since we avoid letting them be together. They influence each other too much.” She paused, thinking, before suggesting, “Should we send him next?”

She considered it, “Not yet as long as he doesn’t create more trouble.”

“We’ve been more cautious these past weeks in order to prevent any more incidents, but I assure you we’ll gradually resume to operate as usual.”

Your eyes met, terrified.

Managing to sneak out without getting caught, you started to panic once you reached your room safely. Transfer? The image of the building you saw on the smart table was brought back to your head. Minho. They would send Minho away.

“Y/n?” He called for you for like the fifth time, shaking you a little, and you finally snapped back.

You choked out. “They can’t send you away.” Closing your eyes tightly and shaking your head refusing the sole idea, that’s when you noticed you had started to cry. What if you never see him again? What if he ended… You didn’t dare finish that thought.

“Calm down. If they’re taking me anywhere, we’re both going. I’m never leaving you.” This time, he didn’t exactly believe the words coming out of his mouth. Judging by what they’d heard, they would send him to whatever that place was sooner or later anyway. Just thinking of being separated from you was killing him. Ever since that day when you were little kids and you had greeted each other, you’ve turned to be his entire world, the most important person after being separated from his family. He loved the friends he’d made here though, but it wasn’t the same type of love he felt for you. Minho realized as those thoughts flooded his mind, that you were more than a friend to him. He was in love with you. And this just terrified him more for what your futures would be like. A tear had managed to escape him. Seeing as you weren’t consoled by his false reassurance - he knew you were smarter than that- , he tried something else. He cupped your face as you sniffled, and you slowly looked up from the floor to his also teary eyes. He looked down at your lips. You noticed and nodded at him, giving him consent. Your eyes shut as your lips met in a tender kiss, as if he was scared you’ll both break, or that you would disappear when he opened his eyes.

“I love you.” you said breathily once you pulled back and rested your forehead on his.

“I love you.” Minho said back, “I love you.”

“Promise me,” you started, “That if we get separated we’ll find each other again.”

“They won’t separate us.” He tried again, stubbornly.

You pulled back and when he opened his eyes he found you already looking at him, serious. “Promise me.”

“Of course I promise.”

“You won’t forget me.”

“I’ll never forget you.” He kissed your forehead.

The guards had stopped escorting you both away from each other a couple of days ago, but you still acted like you didn’t acknowledge each other. Minho had told you he would tell the others what you’ve seen and what you had heard. You needed as much help as possible if you planned to get out of that place.

But one day all hell broke loose. You and Minho had noticed that it took them longer between each of the guys they took away. That’s what the woman was saying back in the room you sneaked in.

They had started again. Today, Newt was missing.

As Minho entered the room, you saw him throw a subtle glance over at you before getting to his table. “Where’s Newt?” He looked around, stranged. None of the boys could answer that for him. He scowled, standing up and so did you. No. no. no.

“Where’s Newt?” He hurried over to one of the guards and stood up to him.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, kid.”

“Oh, you don’t know?” he let out a dry chuckle. “You know, a blondie, about this tall.”

“I said I don’t know. Return to your seat.”

“I don’t want to. I want you to answer my fucking question.” Another guard came and tried to pull Minho away and back to his table. “Don’t touch me!” He punched the guard.

“Minho!” you ran over to him as one of the guards punched him on his stomach making him double over. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” You threw yourself at the guard that was about to hit him again. Another one pulled you away at the same time the other two grabbed Minho by his arms.

“Let her go!” He struggled in their hold. They began to drag you out of the room going separate directions. You weren’t headed to your bedrooms. You knew what this meant.

“Minho!” you screamed in a panic. You heard more struggle and grunts. Then he was punching the guard holding you. It was no use. More of them came.

He was just able to grab your hands, frantic, before one of them hit you in the head and dragged you away, as he screamed and pushed and punched everyone in his path before he felt something sting him. The fight started to leave him, as his vision became spotted. Then his consciousness left him.

You didn’t see him or any of the others the following day, nor the next, and the next, and the one after. They kept you in your room, bringing you meals you hardly touched, escorting you out to the showers, to the labs. They didn’t even give you tasks to do. Clearly they were assessing how bad the situation was. They sent a man to ask you some questions, wanting to know if you knew anything about their schemes. You gave them nothing and in return, they gave you hell. Only one thing came out of your mouth: What had they done to Minho.

You saw him once as you got out of the labs, as they guided him out of one room to another, and you shrugged off the guard’s hold on you, sprinting and yelling his name. Drowsily, he raised his head and when finally your voice and the sight of you registered in his brain, he struggled to break free from the guards, yelling your name back. But they got to you before you could reach a section of the building you’ve never been to.

You both had been put through so much, yet the worst part until then was soon to come. Given your uncooperative behaviour, they came up with the idea of giving things a twist, something they’ll exploit to their benefit. That night when they fetched you from your room, you didn’t know what was happening, what they were going to do to you now.

They took you to a room with small compartments in which a person could fit, its doors made of glass. And there you saw him inside one of them, “Minho? Minho!” they had let you go, and you ran towards it. He couldn’t see you, nor hear you as he banged his fist on the door. It was a one way mirror. “What are you doing to him?!” You shrieked and then you both looked down, water coming up from orifices on the floor. Minho started screaming louder as dread took over him, and you helplessly watched and banged at the damn door, shouting for them to stop whatever they were doing. They were going to kill him. This wasn’t one of those illusions they made you go through before. They were going to kill him out viciously and you could only witness, unaware of why these horrible people were torturing you, why they were using all of you. They started to drag you away as the water reached his chin. You thrashed, screamed and cried for them to stop. And that was your last memory of him, and of you, before all of it vanished, ended, only to start again differently.

Part 1? (Edited 1/16/2023: Part 2 is out).

#minho #minho the maze runner #minho tmr #the maze runner #maze runner #minho maze runner #maze runner fanfiction #minho x reader #tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr fic #tmr minho

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