#3 months ago i was just gonna keep my bullshit contained to the tags on my shitty blog only lurking in the tag to save gifsets to reblog

[hiirunakaarchive]

– to act in haste (pt. 4)

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Dr. Sakurai, between acknowledging her company and putting on a smile for the press, let her eyes flit away momentarily from whoever it was she was shaking hands with at that moment. Her lips were pursed in a tight smile in an attempt to keep herself collected amongst the overwhelming attention, and her eyes wandered outside of her immediate surroundings.

And he recognized it. The moment her face fell and her smile faded, he realized that Haruna’s eyes had already met his. 

Her lips parted slightly and then back shut at the sight of him, as if to stop herself just before reacquainting with the feel of Dr. Ramsey’s name on her tongue. 

“Ethan...?”

↳  (pt 1), (pt 2), (pt 3)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: angst, a lot of yearning, maybe a little break in between :/

◇ word count: 3.3k+

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms, @perriewinklenerdie, @jooous​, @senseofduties​, @moteestro​, @haesselnut​, @princessfuzzy12​,

◇ author’s note: to the very limited audience who actually enjoy this fic: thank u for ur patience!! this chapter was so mf hard to write and FOR WHAT. after a couple months of sitting on google docs at 4am trying to update this fic instead of doing my schoolwork like i was supposed to, it turns out this chapter is not the finale at all🤡 ive considered incorporating smut into this since those seem to get notes but that’s one of my literary shortcomings so im gonna refrain and save face✨ feedback appreciated, yall know the drill xoxoxo luv u guys

chapter four

Diamonds. Oh, how that woman loved diamonds.

Carbon atoms arranged in a tetrahedral structure. The hardest natural substance on Earth. Yet another natural phenomenon upon which mankind had imposed their shallow, materialistic beliefs. 

But he bought one anyway; kept that damn two carat, marquise cut ring in the bottom drawer of his bedside table for five years. The velvet box sat in the dark that entire time, unworn and collecting dust, thus Dr. Ramsey couldn’t help but wonder if it was still suitable for the hospital heiress it was intended for. 

“Dr. Sakurai will be present as the keynote speaker.”

Harper regarded Ethan carefully when she said it, far too aware of his and the younger doctor’s history. Ethan met her pensiveness with a simple nod of his head.

“I see. She’s made quite a name for herself.” 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.” Dr. Emery observed, raising a brow, “I was expecting a bit of protest in attending, but you seem fine.” 

But Dr. Ethan Ramsey was not, in fact, fine. 

“Have you seen her?” Harper continued, 

“Aurora ran into her in Manila, doing some philanthropy it seems. She looks different, might be the afterglow of success. Might be that boyfriend she brought along too.”

That what? 

It didn’t necessarily come as a surprise, but he still stopped listening. He’d tuned Harper out, something about the boy being on Haruna’s research team in Japan, a prodigy that interned at the WHO when he was only fourteen; Harper said they were a good match, but Dr. Ramsey, as a final form of consolation, hoped he’d heard her wrong.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, because Dr. Ethan Ramsey was far too old and far too calculated to rely on something as subjective as a “marriage pact”. Blurted on a whim, didn’t keep in touch, hell, he wasn’t even sure if he still remembered her face. That shallow promise they made five years ago came with too many uncertainties, and far be it from him to be bitter over her newfound happiness.

So his silence spoke for him, living a life of 52 seconds before Harper noticed he’d gone quiet. He earned a glance from his colleague, Dr. Emery trailing off and sparing him a thoughtful look. Her gaze softened in realization, and she bit her lip regretfully.

“Oh, Ethan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you still-” 

“I don’t.” He snapped. 

Bullshit. 

He released a long, drawn out breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting himself. But the damage had been done, and nothing he could say would wipe the suspicion off Harper’s face. The rueful shake of her head and the sympathetic pat of his arm told him all he needed to know. 

“I mean it.” Ethan said, the excessive sternness of his tone taking away the credibility of his statement.

“Dr. Sakurai is…”

A pause. 

“She’s nothing to me.” 

–––––

And he was so damn wrong.

Ethan and June boarded a flight to Kyoto two days later, and for the entire duration until the conference, Dr. Ramsey was concerned at his own indifference. 

Concerned, but desperate to believe it.

He wasn’t sure what to expect out of seeing her again, but some sick part of him wanted to have fallen out of love with her. Then that meant he wouldn’t have to care at the blatant reminder that she was with someone else. He wouldn’t have to admit that she was probably better off with someone that wasn’t him. Most of all, he wouldn’t have to pretend that the idea of them never getting a second chance didn’t absolutely shatter him.

But it wasn’t that easy. It was never that easy. 

Because there he was, standing on the outer circle of a ring of reporters and conference guests that demanded the young doctor’s attention. Like the crowd, Ethan was completely and wholly entranced by her and it was in the moment that he realized–

Haruna Sakurai still meant everything to him.

Her hair had been cut short, its length reaching her chin and dyed a shade alike to walnuts. She wore glasses now and on the bridge of her nose rested thin circular frames that accentuated her ovular face, Haruna’s features fixed in a permanent smize as she charmed the crowd with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The woman trickled in ivory and quartz from head to toe, and Ethan’s breath caught in his throat at the memory of how much he loved her.

How much he still loves her.

Dr. Sakurai, between acknowledging her company and putting on a smile for the press, let her eyes flit away momentarily from whoever it was she was shaking hands with at that moment. Her lips were pursed in a tight smile in an attempt to keep herself collected amongst the overwhelming attention, and her eyes wandered outside of her immediate surroundings.

And he recognized it. The moment her face fell and her smile faded, he realized that Haruna’s eyes had already met his.   

Her lips parted slightly and then back shut at the sight of him, as if to stop herself just before reacquainting with the feel of Dr. Ramsey’s name on her tongue. 

“Ethan...?”

She looked at him like he was some figment of her imagination, breathing his name like saying it was an anchor to keep the man from disappearing. Dr. Ramsey could almost feel himself unravel if not for the deadwood that entered the scene.

Satoshi Date.

The boyfriend.

God, her fucking boyfriend.

He was stuck to her like glue, a hand protectively encased around her shoulder as Haruna caught herself and resumed in indulging the crowd. She smiled proudly and crossed her arms, everything but her wrists and beautifully manicured hands hiding underneath the cape of her white pantsuit. Her male company, just as charismatic and smartly dressed, entertained the representatives of Big Pharma. 

From what Ethan could see, Date was young. Bright. Approachable with an award-winning smile that was almost too friendly for his liking. Together, the doctor and scientist looked invincible and Ethan found himself for admitting that they actually complimented each other.

“What a tool.” He couldn’t help but scoff. “...Spit it out, Hirata.”

Beside him, June’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter. She brought a hand up to her mouth and turned away, responding between giggles she tried to suppress. Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I apologize, it’s nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t let it bother you, you and Sakurai were always the better- pft.” 

Dr. Hirata failed to contain herself and released a snort, shaking her head as she walked away to scout for their seats in the lecture hall. Ethan’s irritant gaze followed her retreating form and his chest bubbled with annoyance as he remained clueless towards the reason behind his colleague’s laughter.

He looked over his shoulder one more time to where Haruna and Satoshi stood, close as ever, and the jealousy weaved knots in Dr. Ramsey’s stomach to the point that he settled in looking for his assigned seat instead. Ethan glanced at his watch; fifteen minutes before the official start of the conference, and from his peripheral vision he could see Haruna beginning to make her way backstage to prepare for her speech. 

Finding his spot beside Dr. Hirata, Ethan looked up to the stage, sat in the very front row and directly in front of the podium.

Fuck.

The lights finally began to dim at ten o’clock, and Dr. Sakurai, clad in white, appeared on stage. 

The woman’s presence commanded the attention of the room as she made her way to the centre in a powerful stride. The anticipant stillness of the crowd broke and Haruna’s entrance was greeted with a light smattering of applause as she enveloped the audience in warm welcome and a dazzling smile. Ethan watched her with bated breath, wondering when she had become this beautiful. 

“It warms my heart to see so many familiar faces.” She began. 

Her kind eyes scanned the audience and Dr. Sakurai’s gaze fell momentarily on Dr. Ramsey, conflicted, before getting to the punchline of the joke.

“Forgive me when I say I wasn’t expecting so many of you to still have a full head of hair the next time we met.”

–––––

The next 45 minutes passed that way, with Haruna completely and wholly engaging the crowd as she shared knowledge and humour, establishing a pleasant tone for the remainder of the conference. Ethan could sense the nearing end of her speech as Haruna began to smoothly transition from the central theme to her concluding words.

“A very important person to me once said that as doctors, all we do is delay the inevitable-” 

Ethan leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and with a valiant effort, careful not to let his emotions betray the nonchalance in his face. The reminder of that lesson he taught her so long ago revived something in the older doctor that he thought had died when Sakurai left for Japan. 

Then he remembered her obsidian hair dipped in red. Her long delicate fingers that he held in his when they first met, steadying the tremor before saving a life. He remembered her downcast eyes when he reprimanded her over a patient, and the embarrassment in her voice when she admitted to crying in the storage room.

Now here she stood, six years later. Confident. Unshaken. A poetic opposite of the young intern he once knew.

“—to healthcare professionals,” The sound of Haruna’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “one word immediately comes to mind when discussing the inevitable.” She said the words with air quotes.

“Death. Mortality. Demise. I always found it ironic how we, doctors who so value life, were the very crowd who imposed such negative connotations on the word.”

“We follow the paved path of the Inevitable because it’s the only one we know. It provides a definitive answer. But inevitably, we grow tired of this tedious destination. We inevitably seek more, strive for more and thus deviate from that paved path and become drawn to the unexplored dirt road; you find that it leads to so much more. My research team has offered me invaluable guidance on this road to the unknown, which is why I’m proud to officially announce that the Sakurai Medical Centre has discovered a cure for multiple sclerosis.”

And a stunned silence instilled itself into the audience. 

Ethan stared at her in silent disbelief. Hirata’s jaw hung open before she threw her head back in proud laughter and clapped. Suddenly, a frenzy ensued with the commotion of the crowd, the entire room suddenly engulfed in cameras and flashing lights and the vocal disbelief of the fellow doctors around them. Haruna held up a hand and the guests, still buzzing with excitement, toned down to audible murmurs. 

“I will answer any questions anyone might have about this medical feat throughout the day, but as I conclude this speech I’d like you all to do one thing–”

“Question yourself. Question the world. Challenge the things thought to be set in stone, and when all is said and done, ask yourself-”

Haruna looked meaningfully at the hundreds of people seated in front of her, a sharp tension emanating in the room as her cat-like gaze scrutinized the crowd. Her eyes finally fell on Dr. Ramsey, and the hold of her stare made it clear that this was no accident. She directed her query at her former lover and in a voice dripping with purpose demanded an answer.

“Is the inevitable really as dreadful as we might think?” 

And he could do nothing but applaud. 

–––––

The continuous ticking of the clock in Ethan’s hotel room was the only sound that intercepted a dead silence. Alone yet with his thoughts, he packed his luggage in preparation for his flight the next morning, pondering his weekend in Japan. 

They met at the evening reception. Purely coincidence. She stood alone at an accent table, her back to him with a flute of rosé, and he approached her in an honest mistake. 

“June.” Ethan sighed exasperatedly. “It wouldn’t have killed you to wait two minutes instead of making me scout you out in this crowded room for your damn blue dress-“

“Hey, I happen to like this damn blue dress.” 

Then he found himself met with pearls and a gown of charmeuse silk. She came to him in the shade of blue orchids, her gown pooling at the floor like a blossom at its prime and Dr. Ramsey remembered just how perfect she’d always been. 

They spoke. Briefly. Awkwardly. Watching their words like untested waters though the two were the furthest thing from strangers. 

“Hi.” 

Was what she said.

“...Hi.” 

Was how he responded. 

Then he couldn’t look at her. She was within arms reach, too easy to pull towards him and trap against his chest. Too easy to blurt out something he’d regret with her just close enough to hear it. Too easy to meet her eyes and remember that she was with someone else.

So he brushed past her, putting as much distance between himself and Dr. Sakurai before he lost himself. Before the crushing weight on Ethan’s chest pressed on until the words piggy-backed the next breath he released.

I still love you.

And he should have let it, because he hasn’t seen her since. 

Zipping up his luggage and setting it upright, the sudden sound of Ethan’s default ringtone reverberating through the room made him jolt. He snatched his phone off the bedside table, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, only to relax as he saw Naveen’s name flash across the screen for a FaceTime call.

“You have work.” Ethan observed, unimpressed upon recognition of Naveen’s office from the background. 

“Which starts in an hour, I’m simply early! Speaking of work, administration wants you to bring back souvenirs.”

“By administration, you mean yourself.”

“Humor me a little. Dr. Tanaka tells me they have exclusive KitKat flavours and I’m absolutely beside myself with curiosity. Pick up a pack or two, your retirement gift to me.”

Ethan sighed in surrender.

“...What flavour do you want.”

“Dr. Tanaka recommends Hokkaido melon with mascarpone cheese, but I also recall June mentioning sakura matcha latte. I’ll leave it up to you.”

“What? You can’t possibly expect me to find such arbritary— hello?”

So fate let him out onto the Kyoto streets, into a grocery store, towards the snack aisle and right in Haruna Sakurai’s line of fire. She was on her way to the cash, he was still searching for those fucking KitKats, and they lightly bumped shoulders before meeting each other’s eyes for a polite apology. 

“Ah, I’m sorry-“

“My apologies-“

And they both froze.

At first, they refused to acknowledge the familiarity in each other’s voice. She spoke in Japanese, but he recognized her assertive tone. Firm but pleasant, like running your hands across a velvet seat. She had a unique accent given her history of travel, and Ethan remembered how much he used to love hearing her talk. 

It was the English for her. They weren’t too far off from the hotel where the conference was held, so Haruna immediately deduced that the stranger was one of the guests. But she knew Dr. Ramsey’s voice. All too well. His words uttered in low timbre, deep and rich like fertile soil that only further nurtured her adoration for him. The articulate nature of his speech that would substantiate the validity of his advice. Intimidating delivery of his words that grabbed her attention in fistfuls. It wasn’t until Haruna had her own intern that she became aware of how much she had begun to sound like him, and it was then that she realized she loved hearing him talk too. 

“Dr. Ramsey.” Haruna didn’t bother to mask the surprise in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” 

The collectedness in Dr. Sakurai’s voice almost irked him. She looked nothing short of amicable, pretending like Saturday evening never happened where he fled from her after a one-word exchange. And her nonchalance, amidst Ethan’s struggle to find words, rapid heartbeat and sandpaper-dry throat, was only further confirmation that she moved on from their past. 

“We’re on the same boat, Dr. Sakurai. I wasn’t expecting to be here but you know how Naveen is.” He struggled to maintain the apathy in his voice. 

“Let me guess, KitKats?”

“Right on the nail. He’s looking for–” 

Ethan stopped himself as Haruna turned to the shelf on her right, dragging a finger across the plastic wraps before swiftly plucking several packages out from under each other and tossing them into his basket. He peered into his bin of potential expenses and looked up at Dr. Sakurai as she tossed one more his way. 

“Rook- Dr. Sakurai, Naveen is going to end up with diabetes.” 

She retracted her hand from another pack and glanced at him once, then to his near-full basket in something alike to realization. Then she laughed. Like, really laughed. Her disciplined features melted into a toothy grin, replaced with something youthful. Something real. Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose to hide his own smile beginning to form. 

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Haruna gathered herself as she breathed out a chuckle. “You know how much of a sweet tooth he has.”

She tilted her gaze up to meet Ethan’s eyes, an almost distant look brewing on her face until she caught herself and her smile faded. 

“But it wasn’t all for him.” 

Ethan raised a brow, and the female doctor’s attention flickered to the pack she last threw into his basket. He looked down, and his forehead creased with inexplicable conflict. 

“That one’s for you. Didn’t you really used to like those back then?���

Yuzu flavoured KitKats. She used to love those, and he wondered if she still did. They were saved for special occasions and only shared with special people, but those “care packages” Haruna’s doting parents sent every once in a while from Japan never lasted. The original five that shared the penthouse used to come with snack sized versions, and Dr. Ramsey had to hide his in the drawer of his desk. 

She would loiter in his office sometimes during her break, sitting across from her mentor as they passed the time talking. 

“Snacking in my office? I’ve grown too lenient with you, Rookie.”

She popped a piece into her mouth and grinned with full cheeks. 

“So you have.”

“Yeah… your influence– don’t get ahead of yourself.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly as Haruna pressed a hand to her chest in faux flattery. He failed to suppress a smile and she returned her own, the awkwardness and the tension slowly alleviating between the two of them. 

They grew silent, but it was a comfortable silence. The two doctors shifted on their feet, waiting for someone make the first statement, and Ethan racked his brain for words to say. What could he say?

“I meant to congratulate you,” He settled.

“These past five years have been good to you, Haruna. You’ve accomplished something great.”

Her smile widened at her ex-mentors praise.

“Thank you, I had an amazing team behind me.”

And as if on cue, the shrill marimba ringtone sounded in the air and made them both jump. Dr. Sakurai’s recognized it as hers and patted around her sweatpants, fishing her phone out of her pocket. Looking at Dr. Ramsey apologetically, she accepted the call and pressed her phone to her ear. 

“Toshi?”

And the bitter reality settled back in. She turned her back to him, mumbling in rapid Japanese and Ethan breathed in deeply. Starting towards the cash register, he snuck past Haruna quietly, squeezing her shoulder in goodbye. A subtle alarm weaved itself into her features, and her gaze followed his back, unable to leave the call. Ethan rushed through the payment and took long strides out of the grocery store, pulling on the collar of his sweater as his throat began to constrict. 

Get back to your damn hotel and finish packing your things. You’re going to get on that plane tomorrow morning, start work the day after and start forgetting about Haruna Sakurai. 

He exhaled in a long breath. He could do this. 

“Dr. Ramsey…?”

He could do this. 

“Didn’t you really used to like those back then?”

He could do this. 

“Is the inevitable really as dreadful as we might think?” 

He couldn’t fucking do this.

Ethan slowed to a stop, and he cursed at himself. For developing feelings towards the one person he shouldn’t have fallen for. For being the root of the cause in this mess they entangled themselves in. For loving this woman so damn much that his own medical expertise couldn’t suffice in explaining the tight feeling in his chest whenever he missed her. Whenever he saw her.

Dr. Ramsey looked up to the sky, met with a streetlight hovering above his head and despite himself, he laughed. 

He just couldn’t forget about Haruna Sakurai. 

“Christ, I’m too old for this.”

And back towards the direction he came from, he began to run.

#choices #playchoices #open heart fanfiction #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc

[1soos]

Works in Progress Tag

I was tagged by @wenotes Ren, you’re my favorite Sailor Scout. 

It took me so long to do this.

I’ve only done 6 wips here because it got too long and some of my other wips are too embarrassing to expose rn.

Series

Magnets: untitled chapter 2 – jikook – mechanic!jungkook, dance major!jimin…sort of

Rated: M

a/n: the first chapter was for a fic exchange on ao3 and this chapter is because I found I had more to say. I literally just started writing this the other day. I’ll post this one on ao3 once it’s done.

Dating is a concept with which Jungkook is wholly unfamiliar. He’d dated briefly in high school, but that had been more camouflage and self-preservation than an actual relationship. He has no first-hand experience, no idea how things like this are supposed to progress. Of course, he’d seen fictional relationships play out on television, but right now they seem thoroughly unhelpful. Jungkook wasn’t an assassin who vowed to protect Jimin from a contract killing or a supernatural being who learns what it means to be human through Jimin’s attention. He’s utterly himself.

 Just Jungkook. Who avoids all conversations that revolved around colleges or a future that he can’t afford; who works as an apprentice mechanic in a family friend’s garage most of the week and paints houses with his dad during the days left over and danced or drew at night; who is so painfully shy and in his own head that he would have never talked to the boy he’d wanted from afar for so long if he hadn’t spoken to Jungkook first.

 He feels horribly inadequate beside this boy that people wanted to be around; who goes to college; who is in an actual dance troupe; who has a future outside of this city; who managed to make himself so precious to Jungkook in so short a time.

 Jungkook is terrified that it’s only a matter of time before Jimin realizes how much he’s lacking. He’s been trying to prove his worth from the moment Jimin woke up with a raging hangover the morning after their impromptu field trip.

  Tentative title: A Fish Tale – mermaid!yoongi part 1 – Yoongi x reader

Rated: PG-13

a/n: I’ve been working on this since June (?) and I keep getting stuck. Tbh looking at it now, this will probably turn out to be more of an info sheet for me to use while writing the actual thing.

Watching Jungkook had always been your job; to make sure he was safe while he discovered the outside world. Had been your job since he was a baby just learning to splash in the little pools of ocean water, learning to love the water and the life in it’s great blue depths from the relative safety of the tide pools. It was necessary for the young to be assigned protectors. To make sure that he stayed in your sight always, too many children had wondered too far out and been lost forever to those who loved them on land. Elders in the community, not wanting everyone to be afraid of the water that surrounded them on all sides and brought them joy as well as despair, tell stories of a race of liminal creatures that would find the lost children and raise them as their own. A fish tale, really, that no one believed past their tenth year.

You are well past your tenth year and so is Jungkook, but the watching had become a habit. After all, death by drowning didn’t only happen to children and just moments ago, he’d dived under the crystal waves to scavenge who knows what. And though you trust him to resurface, flipping his hair back, gulping air like his lungs were going to burst if he’d stayed under a moment longer, you still hold your breath with heart beating fast. It’s better than when you counted the seconds, though; every mounting moment an illustrated and numbered anxiety.

You don’t go in the water. You won’t. That’s why Jungkook started scavenging in the first place, to bring the ocean to you, he’d said. They were always beautiful, always the best of what the ocean had to offer. It’s a rule of the island that you aren’t allowed to fish individually, for food, but especially not for sport. It is a rule that you and Jungkook know all too well with a council member for a mother and a fisher for a father. So, when the thing is living, Jungkook won’t leave the water with it and you must get as close to the water line as you dare to view whatever miraculous creature he’d discovered that day.

You’re thinking of a particular day when Jungkook was young and brought back a horseshoe crab. You called it ugly and he scolded you, saying that he was sure that to other horseshoe crabs it was very appealing. You’d smiled and agreed and Jungkook set it free, giggling as it scuttled away.

 Prequel: The Wrong Girl – vigilante!au – Hoseok x OFC

Rated: M for thematic elements, action, cursing, and future smut

a/n: so this is kind of a cheat. I’ve posted this elsewhere, and I haven’t touched it to work on it in 7 (!!!) months, but I suddenly got inspired to re-write some of it and continue to write in this au, so I’ll probably start posting these soon. Here’s a bit of the prologue.

“You’ve got the wrong girl.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think you’re exactly who I want.”

“You don’t want to do this.”

“I really, really do though.” He steps toward her with his hands out, ready to grab at whatever part of her body he can reach. “You thought you could take what’s mine and I would just let you? Is that what you thought?”

She doesn’t say anything; she just lifts up her hands in front of her, palms facing the thickly muscled man approaching her.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, voice dripping with condescension, “are you going to beg now?” A terrifying toothy grin spreads its way across the man’s face and he takes another step toward her. “If you give back what you took, I promise you’ll make it out of here alive.”

She makes her eyes go wide and her mouth tremble and pout. “You promise?”

He smiles like he knows he’s got her. He raises his right hand and looks skyward and says, “I promise.”

She swallows, but she sets her jaw and her eyes narrow. “Bullshit. I’m not telling you where they are. They’re people, not objects. And even if I did, there’s no way you’d let me live. You’re gonna have to kill me.”

“Baby, baby, baby—“he accents every ‘baby’ with a shake of his head—“I’m not going to kill you. First, I’m going to make you tell me where they are—“he laughs wickedly, eyes still running over her slowly—“oh, it’s going to be so painful, I honestly don’t think you’ll last very long, and then I’m going to add you to the squirming pile of peddled flesh before I send it to my buyer.”

She wants to vomit. Why did he have to be one of those grossly verbose bad guys? She wished he’d hurry up and make his move, mostly so this cliché exchange could end. She was getting tired of waiting. She can’t attack, not when she’s so much smaller than him. She needs to wait, keep surprise on her side and then use his own momentum and weight against him.

His steps forward are slow, like he’s trying to lull her into a false sense of security. He wants her to stay where she is so when he decides to grab her she won’t be quick enough to get away, but that’s exactly what she wants. She wants him close.

God, I almost wish I believed in guns. This shit would be over so much faster.

Suddenly, he’s so close to her she could probably see her reflection in his enormous white teeth if such a thing were possible. Her heart speeds up and she can feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She’s careful not to tense too soon; she doesn’t want to telegraph her moves, but it’s a delicate balance. If she waits too long, he’ll be on her and then there’s not much she can do.

Then she sees the look in his eye. From the very beginning of their encounter, he’d been carefully controlling his face and eyes, it was almost terrifying how calm and affable he’d been about the whole thing (the ‘whole thing’ being a random woman showing up and freeing 20 people from a metal shipping container and a life of sex slavery and then leading him on a merry chase at the shipyard where shit like this always seems to take place). Now, she catches a glimpse of the evil bubbling underneath and for the first time that night, she is truly afraid. He comes for her and she hesitates.

A shot rings out and the man crumples into a pile before her.

 Power!au – EXO – Yixing x Reader

Rated: M for thematic elements, action, cursing, and eventual smut

a/n: I’m going to be really honest and say that I don’t really like this. I’ve re-written it 3 times and I can’t manage to get it the way I want it and it’s super frustrating. This is from the first draft, because I tried to switch it from ‘reader’ to first person limited and wow, I suck at that.

When your friends told you they were planning a trip to the mountains and asked you to come along, you were hesitant. You got that feeling in the pit of your stomach. They called you afraid and scared-y cat and chicken shit, but that’s not it. Not all of it.

How do you explain that you know something bad is going to happen, that you have always known when something bad is going to happen? It was like an extra sense or a heightened Fight or Flight response or something.

But then your brother was going and there was no way you were letting him go without you.

“You never do anything fun,” he’d said. You’d argued and begged him not to go, but he’s one of those people that you don’t want to say no to. He’s always chasing the next rush and you are almost always beside him when he does it, just in case.

  Series? One-shot? Who knows??

 Ghost!au – BTS all members vs. a ghost investigation team

Rated: ??? probably PG-13 unless something happens and I change the way this is going before I get too far.

a/n: I started this while I was sick and all I wanted was to watch Most Haunted and sleep. I have another ghost!au idea that’s totally different and will be with a different group, but I haven’t written anything down about it other than notes, so. Also, this is literally everything I’ve written for this one.

“Hello? Is there anybody here that would like to talk to us? One for yes and two for no.” The woman tells the people around her to stop talking as she cocks her head to one side to listen for an answer.

Several knocks are heard from several areas in the room, but the woman hardly bats an eye, other members of her team are not so composed, before saying, “One at a time, please. Can one of you tap out how many people are in this room?” She tucks her hair behind her ear and assumes a look of intense concentration as the rest of the crew tense up to count.

The scene is almost comical, five grown adults standing in a loose circle, looking everywhere but at each other, all mouthing along to a barely audible tattoo. It’s the kind of atmosphere that breeds the nervous laughter that is usually found at funerals and weddings and other functions where you are expected to observe a level of reflective decorum, if only the tension would break.

But it only builds alongside the ascending number of knocks.

The woman finally lets out a breath and looks to another woman beside her. “Twelve. I heard twelve.”

The other woman, with wide eyes and hand gripping a chunky metal cross around her neck, agrees.

A man with a camera speaks for the first time since entering the room. “Including us?”

One knock.

“Oh jesus, okay, so seven.” He wipes the sweat that’s gathered on his forehead and giggles along with his camera carrying companions.

It’s infectious and soon everyone is snickering and poking at their neighbor, each telling another that they should have seen the look on their face.

Finally, the woman in charge says, “Seven is a lot, especially for a house that isn’t very large or even very old, but we can work with it.” She rubs her hands together, more warmth than anything else before she asks the most important question: “Do any of you want to cause any of us harm?”

The knocks that had been so forthcoming previously were eerily absent. The group waits, but after a few minutes of silence, they decide that the whoever was there before must have moved on to different rooms.

However, the air of indecision presses down on them, like the spirits might hurt them if they felt like it. That feeling has the woman shaking in her boots, not that she’d let them see that, not yet anyway, when there hasn’t been any action beyond basic communication, but if they started throwing shit, showing poltergeist activity, then she’d be perfectly willing to lose her shit in front of everyone, she’s not about to open the door to real harm.

  Drabbles

 Vampire!jinyoung 4 – Jinyoung x Reader sort of.

Rated: R for cursing and thematic elements

a/n: so I’ve only posted one of my vampire!jinyoung drabbles, but I have a few planned out and there are 2 between this one and the first one where I know what I want to happen, I just haven’t written them yet.

 You were lying lazily across your sofa. The book you’d initially been so excited to read, had suddenly lost your interest and you are moments away from slipping quietly into sleep.

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in total darkness. You groan as you stretch. That was definitely more of a sleep than a nap.

You get up and stumble your way to the light switch, putting your hand over your eyes before flicking upward and bathing the room in sharp, white light. You slowly move you hand away from your eyes, letting it reach you in manageable bits.

Blinking and squinting rapidly, you barely register the top of a dark head of hair peeking over the top of your favorite chair, but then that head moves and you let out an undignified shriek.

He turns and looks at you quizzically while you rub your hand over your heart.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” In the dark…with me? You add in your head.

“Were you watching me sleep? That’s…actually really creepy, Jinyoung. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“The thought did occur to me.” And that’s all he says on the subject. You know because you wait for him to give you some kind of explanation or even a half-assed apology, but he remains silent.

You rub your hands over your eyes trying to rid them of residual sleep. “Whatever. Why are you here? I didn’t think you’d come back after last time.”

“Why would I not come back? I like our talks.”

“Really?” he could have fooled you. When he wasn’t talking down to you or sneering at humanity in general, he was standoffish or at best indifferent. He never asked you questions about yourself which hadn’t bothered you at first because you were so caught up in unravelling the mystery of the vampire, but now you’re getting pretty tired of how one sided whatever this is, is.

“Of course. It’s the highlight of my existence.” You can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not and to be honest, you’re kind of fed up with the whole thing.

“Did you need something, Jinyoung?”

 Honorable Mentions aka stories that I know I’m going to write, but haven’t started yet:

 70s New York City power outage!au – crossover fic – will be told from several perspectives

 A slice of life, domestic!jennie one shot for my girl, Lex. I have a ton of notes for this fic, I honestly don’t know why I haven’t started writing it?

 Ghost!jongin – Jongin x Reader – reader is a single mom and Jongin protects them from evil spirts in their home.

I’m sorry, I know I said that I would do this yesterday and I totally planned on it, but I forgot my laptop at home. 

Anyway, I tag: @boymeetsweevil, @jeonalis, @94hixtape, @sugasweetsubs, @denouemin, @hobijoon, @lilyjhs, @minmelly

#works in progress #tag #about me ish? #exo fanfiction #bts fanfiction #blackpink fanfiction #got7 fanfiction #idk why im tagging all that but w/e #as always feel absolutely free not to do it

[thepsychicclam]

Hi love! What would you say the top ten sterek fics you've ever read are?

This was REALLY HARD. Mainly bc it’s hard to choose only 10. Because I’m leaving off some great fics (which is why there are more than 10 on here :3)! And some I get mixed up bc I read them so long ago and near each other. (You can always browse my fave fic list here) But I’ve narrowed it to this list. These are the fics that really left impressions on me. They’re all amazing and deserve to be read and loved!!! So…have a TOP 27 FAVE STEREK FICS list :DDDD

1. Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah

In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha’s mate back, and peace talks can begin.

2. Where the Inevitable Isn’t by Survivah

Stiles has a magical thingamajig that’s supposed to get him out of danger. Trouble is, it took him really, really far out of danger. Like, to the point where he isn’t in the same universe anymore.

“A part of Stiles had been thinking that he’d come home, and just go, ‘hey, Derek, are we mates and you just haven’t said anything about it?’ and Derek would reply, 'now you mention it, we are indeed! Now come to my bedchamber, where we will have super hot sex and then cuddle after!’”

3. Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

4. Our Memories Are Numbered by rufflefeather

Stiles’ Jeep grinds to a halt, he sees someone running through the rain, he’s not expecting it to be Derek. He’s not expecting a Derek without any memories either, or an Alpha pack that’s coming for all of them. He probably should’ve, because lately nothing goes the way he expects.

5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum by morganoconner

Space contains a multitude of different species, and Derek has seen and helped a lot of them in his time taking down branches of the slave-trade organization. But this is the first time he’s seen an Aloshrivnik. It’s not the tentacles that draw him in; it’s the goddamn eyes that stare at him without backing down.

“Stiles,” it says to him. “My name is Stiles.”

6. Part of My Melody by hayesgeneration

Derek is a professional classical musician who has found himself lost without a muse, without goal and without even a hint of spark. He’s almost settled nearly contently (if not slightly unwillingly) on having to live his life as a recluse, when his sister finally grows tired of his antics, giving him a Christmas ultimatum.

7. Littlest Alpha by triedunture

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

8. Holding Your Own Weight by zjofierose

Stiles Stilinski is the best trapeze artist west of the Mississippi, but that doesn’t do him much good without a catcher. Enter one quiet roughneck who calls himself Derek and knows maybe a little too much about circus arts for someone who was hired to schlep tents. But Derek has his secrets, and so does the new girl, Allison. Who’s being hunted and who’s being haunted, and will Stiles ever be able to convince Derek to help him fly again?

9. And You Say You’re Alone by taelynhawker

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter’s untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

10. DILF by twentysomething

“Today is Scott’s first day of kindergarten and Derek is terrified.”

Okay - so here are some other favorites that I COULDN’T LEAVE OFF because they’re also my faves I just have more than 10???

11. Make us laugh (or nothing will) by rohkeutta

When Derek Hale left Beacon Hills at 18 to become a kickboxing champion, he thought he would never return. But here he is, seven years later: trying to salvage something from the ruins of his life, eighteen months after the house fire that killed his parents and left him limping and without a future. Enter Stiles, a college dropout Derek might or might not have been friends with in high school, and the unexpected interest he manifests towards the love of Derek’s life. 

12. Caged Humanity by ember

The other factors sounded like complete bullshit. Like about Companions having certain dispositions for submission, and a personality built around wanting to please. Fuck that, Stiles was a strong independent man who didn’t need no wolf. Submitting was straight up taught in classes. Don’t talk back, try to reason not argue, never run away when your Mate was in heat. Mate? More like owner. There was a reason Companions were called pets. God Stiles hated it all, the hypocrisy. It was an honor? More like a life sentence.

An AU where werewolves are given humans as pets called Companions, and a very begrudging Stiles is taken in by Derek Hale, much to both their displeasure. And then pleasure. Very, very sexual pleasure.

13. Ain’t Nothing So Good  as the Cake and Eating it by sofonisba_found

Derek thinks he’s doing alright in life, with his family at his side and a job he loves. Despite his family’s concerns he remains adamant that he doesn’t need a mate, afraid to take the risk of letting anyone close enough to try to hurt his family again. That is until he realizes that his true mate has been right under his nose for years, and that now through his inaction he may lose him.

14. The Boy and the Beast by dsudis

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

15. The Moon’s Gonna Follow Me Home by turningterrific

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

16. Sell Your Body to the Night by dsudis

“No,” he repeated impatiently. “I’m not a cop. I’m someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work.”

“I, uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up–the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. “Yeah, I am. I do that.”

17. Constantly on the Cusp by alisvolatpropiis

Stiles is gay, out and proud, and a Beacon Hills deputy. Derek is a firefighter and war veteran who thinks he’s straight; or, Derek and Stiles have lots of semi-public hatesex on the road to Love.

18. Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy

Stiles can’t remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he’s there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

19. Important Things by suzvoy

Stiles learns that even with werewolves, giant lizards and psychopathic hunters on the loose, life can still find other ways to screw with you. Case in point: everyone keeps assuming he and Derek are a couple. What the hell?

20. According to Plans by eldee

Five times Stiles and Derek pretend to be boyfriends, and the one time they didn’t have to pretend at all. (Or: in which Stiles’ plan for senior year is completely ruined by a supernatural creature stalking him.)

21. The Road to Self-Actualization is Littered with F-Bombs by blue_fjords

It’s Stiles’s final Spring Break of his college career, and he’s got plans to do a whole lot of nothing. But Derek has other plans for him, and before he knows it, Stiles is joining Derek to go undercover at a couples’ retreat in a bid to catch a ring of thieves. It’s the world’s most perfect plan! Nothing could possibly go wrong!

22. In This Twilight How Dare You Speak of Grace by secondstar

Zombies. Stiles always knew the world would end this way.

23. Time to Begin by triedunture

Stiles learns some heavy-duty magic, and Derek convinces him to send him back in time to fix all the mistakes he’s made. But Derek ends up making things worse, and Stiles has to think creatively to save him. And everyone else, including their younger selves.

24. Losers by stilinskisparkles

Where Derek is new to college, eager to spend his time learning, and Stiles is everything he didn’t want in a room mate. He’s loud, he’s into sports, and he keeps trying to make Derek do things.

Or, the one where Derek falls for a jock, Erica will cut you if you disturb her studying, and Jackson is a closeted romantic who pretends to hate everything.

25. That Unfortunate Situation by 74days

Derek Hale, 3rd Duke of that name has an unfortunate run in with the young Baron of Stiles - accusing the young man of being a fortune hunter. Regency Romance meets Sterek.

26. Reach Out by weathervaanes

Or, In Which Stiles Falls in Love Twice…With the Same Person

-0-

Stiles sees the flyer on his very last day at Beacon Hills High School. It’s hanging, unassuming, in the hall near the front entrance along with bulletins and other flyers, advertisements, posters for free student concerts, but the fact that the word “sex” is written in a font two times larger than the rest of the page catches his attention.

It’s an advice hotline for a whole range of things, from teenage angst to how to deal with your parents telling you you’re adopted and a whole mess in the middle. Stiles thinks it’s funny, though, that they offer advice on sexuality and sex education. It makes sense on the one hand, since high school sex ed does jack shit for actual learning, but anyone who really wants to know stuff has an infinite source of knowledge right on their phone—the internet.

So it starts off as a joke.

27. Between Men and Lions by standinginanicedress

“I thought we could be friends,” Derek offers, to which Stiles gets an odd smile on his face.

“Friends,” he repeats, an odd inflection.

“Yes, friends.”

Stiles laughs, just barely. It’s more of an exhalation of breath than it is genuine mirth or anything else, and then he smiles. “I’m pretty good at friends,” he says with a tilt to his head, and Derek clears his throat and has to look away.

#sterek #eternalsterek #fic rec #sterek fic rec #sterek fic

[pinknerdpanda]

Bad Blood - Part 1

Characters: Reader x Roy, Sam, Dean

Summary: You stop at a small cafe in Louisiana on your way home from hunting with the Winchesters. There is something about the man behind the counter that makes you hungry for more than just the pie.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Pre-Smuttiness

Word Count: 2262

A/N: This is the first part of a series I am working on. Part 2 is already done and I am starting part 3 next. Future parts will be NSFW and I will be sure to put that in the warnings. The gif is not mine - thanks Google.

Your feedback is so appreciated! :)

Thanks to my Soul Sister @wheresthekillswitch for beta’ing this for me and for always encouraging me. Also thanks to @emilywritesaboutdean who kinda pre-beta’d this like a long time ago when Lee was working on her 400 celebration and I needed help moving forward. You are both incredible writers and I am privileged to call you my friends. The support and love you guys and @arryn-nyxx give me on a regular basis is beyond words. I love my squishes.

Tags are below - please send me an ask if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list! :)

Bad Blood

Part 1

Guidry’s Cajun Cafe - Carencro LA

You have seen your fair share of shady places, but this one - with its battered walls and rickety tables and mismatched chairs may well top your list. You eye the empty barstools lining the counter to determine the one least likely to put your ass on the floor. You decide on the one closest to the cash register, perching gingerly upon it.

The run-down cafe is nearly empty, unsurprisingly so at 12 am. The smell of coffee makes your stomach growl and you immediately turn over the chipped stoneware mug in anticipation. The sudden squeak of a swinging door is soon followed by soft melodic whistle, both sounds cause your head to jerk up from the menu in your hand. A man wearing a green apron appears behind the counter. He approaches you holding a pot of coffee in one of his large hands.

“Evenin’ ma’am,” he drawls, his voice is warm and intoxicating. One side of his mouth quirks in a grin as he fills your cup.

“Thank you.” You return the smile as you meet his gaze. His brilliant blue eyes are mesmerizing.

“Can I get you anything ‘sides the coffee t’night?”

“Uh...yeah...actually. Do you have any, uh...pie?” You groan internally as you stumble your way through your reply. Get your shit together. What is the matter with you?

“I believe we got one slice left.” The grin on his face widens, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle slightly. “How d’you feel about cherry?”

“Sounds great. I’ll have that.”

“Comin’ right up.”

He turns on his heel to get your pie, offering you a glimpse of his back. This man is huge, though definitely not freakishly tall like your friend Sam. The thought of Sam and his brother Dean makes your eyes roll.

Those crazy sons-a-bitches nearly got you killed. Three days ago, they’d called, asking for your help to take out a nest of vamps in Baton Rouge. What could go wrong?

Well, as it turns out, everything.

According to their research, the nest had contained no more than half a dozen bloodsuckers. They’d been keeping a low profile in the area, but the signs were all there; seven missing in the last eighteen months and four bodies, all drifters, with their throats ripped out and not a drop of blood to their name.

The Winchesters tracked them to a run-down shack out on Highway 61. The dense foliage obscured the building from the road, providing a prime spot for the vamps’ homebase. The sliver of moonlight in the inky sky gave off little light making it impossible to discern distinct shapes.

Dean found a secluded spot to stow his Impala and the three of you exited the vehicle quickly. The elder brother popped the trunk and you stifled a giggle as he propped it open with a sawed off shotgun.

You’d only been hunting with these boys a few other times and each time you’d found something new to be intrigued by.  Sam and Dean had battled and taken out every kind of evil thing you’d ever heard of and a handful that you hadn’t. Their reputation was known far and wide in the close-knit community. In your few encounters with the handsome brothers, you’d grown to appreciate their trademark cunning and intellect and they’d quickly earned your heartfelt respect. Dean’s cocky attitude and confident swagger, however, had the innate ability to frustrate the shit out of you and this was no exception.

In the hours leading up to your arrival, you’d tried and failed multiple times to get the green eyed man to share his strategy to take out the nest, each time receiving the same self-assured grin.

“It’s simple, princess. We go in, chop their heads off and celebrate with a beer for a job well done.” His use of the nickname “princess” annoyed you, but you chose to let it go for the moment.

Dean turned, passing a machete each to you and Sam, his own gripped tightly in his large hand, before slamming the trunk closed.

“Ok, we good?” His tone was determined and focused.

“What’s our play here?” you asked again, hoping for a proper answer this time.

“I told you, get in, get out, beers. Any questions?”

“That’s it?” you barked, frustration sharpening your tone.

Sam glanced at you empathetically. He seemed to understand your need for detail, but you assumed that his years on the road with Dean had helped him learn to cope.

“Oh I’m sorry, princess, do I need to draw you a diagram?” Dean retorted as he stepped closer in an attempt to intimidate you with his large frame. He gestured vaguely toward the highway. “Look, there’s the road if you want out, but I suggest you start walking now if you want to make it back to town by morning.”

Your blood boiled as you squared your shoulders and your eyes narrowed. You stretched your neck to meet his gaze.

“Listen here, Winchester, call me ‘princess’ again and it WILL be the last time.  You called me, remember?” You jabbed your finger into his chest to emphasize each word. “You need me, so you can back off with your badass male-dominance, ‘I’ve got a big dick’ bullshit. All I want is a plan. You wanna waltz through that door and get your ass ripped to shreds, be my guest, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let your over-confidence put me in the ground.”

A muffled sound made your head whip around. Sam’s eyes glittered with suppressed laughter and his scruff covered dimples threatened to emerge. The sight was infuriating.

“What’s so funny over there, Sasquatch?” you growled through clenched teeth.

“Nothing.” he said. His attempt to wipe the smile off his face failed. “Nothing at all. I just love watching you refuse to take Dean’s crap. It is just so...refreshing.”

Dean grunted and you looked back at him through slits. “Well, what’s it going to be, Dean. You gonna keep up this asshole schtick or are we going to do our job?”

“Fine. Y/N.” He spit out your name like a curse as he leaned back against the car and sighed. “Sam and I will take the front door, you go round back to catch any trying to make a get-away. Chop chop and we are out of here. Capisce?”

The half dozen vampires turned out to be 15 and the “shack” - an expansive abandoned motel. When everything was said and done, you were all three bleeding profusely, each needing an indeterminate number of stitches, but the nest was eliminated. You limped back to the Impala in silence, chucking your blood-coated blade in the trunk before falling into the back seat and slamming the door.

Dean slid carefully behind the wheel, letting out a deep breath as Sam took his seat.

“Y/N…” Dean’s tone was soft and tinged with remorse but you cut him off.

“Just...don’t. OK? They are dead, we are breathing. Let’s just be done. I need a shower and you promised me a beer.”

Dean nodded, throwing the car in reverse before tearing off down the road.

The soft rattle of a plate against the counter draws you out of your thoughts. You smile appreciatively at the man. “Thank you. This looks delicious.”

“Bon appetite. The name’s Roy,” he offers a large calloused hand and you reach to shake it instinctively, your brain entranced by the sparkle of his eyes and his perfect white teeth.

“Y/N,” you manage, swallowing hard, the feel of his hand wrapped around yours sending a current down your spine.

“Nice to meet ya, y/n. What brings you to this part of Louisiana this time ‘a night?” He releases your hand and leans on his elbows, crossing his arms on the counter in front of you.

“Passing through on my way out of Baton Rouge.” You tug at the collar of your jacket nervously, wincing at the sting of fresh stitches near your collarbone. His eyes follow your movements, pupils widening briefly as the edge of a bandage peeks out from under the collar of your t-shirt. You drop your hand to the steaming mug. “I just needed to stretch my legs a little before I settle in for the long haul back to Texas.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat grabs Roy’s attention. “‘Scuse me, darlin.” He straightens and winks at you, scooping up the pot of coffee and heading toward the booth in the far corner.  

You shake yourself, a voice in your head scolding you for being so awkward. The last few days with the Winchesters have done a number on you. It’s not that you’re attracted to them, but damn are they attractive. You don’t usually go for the pretty-boy, straight from the cover of the plaid-appreciation edition of GQ type. But between the adrenaline of the past few days and the close proximity of the brothers, you are more than a little worked up, and the way Roy is looking at you isn’t helping matters.

Roy makes his way back up to the counter, placing the pot of coffee back on the warmer and grabbing a towel while whistling softly. You study him carefully out of the corner of your eye. His hair is cropped short and his carefully trimmed beard is peppered with grey. His neck is thick and his fitted white shirt hugs his broad chest. The sleeves are rolled up exposing his massive forearms, muscles flexing as he wipes down the counter. You have the sudden image of being pushed against a wall, that muscular chest pressing into yours as one of his thick hands winds into the back of your hair, his lips crashing into yours in a heated kiss.

“How’s it taste, cher?” Roy’s sultry voice breaks your thoughts, making you yelp in surprise. You look up wide-eyed, finding him much closer than you’re expecting and you suck in a quick breath.

Roy raises his hand in front of him, quirking an eyebrow. “My apologies. I wasn’t tryin’ ta frighten you.” You notice his a tinge of sadness in his eyes and a part of you wonders what put it there.

“Sorry.” You smile, shaking your head. “Sorry...it’s just been a long couple of days.” You scoop a forkful of pie and place it in your mouth, closing your eyes in delight as the sweet taste hits your tongue. “This is amazing,” you practically moan.

Roy’s face brightens and a wide smile graces his lips. He seems to enjoy watching you savor each bite as much as you’re enjoying eating it.

The sound of footsteps from behind you is soon followed by the squeak of a hinge and a dull thud as the customers from the far booth head outside. Roy makes his way to the door, flipping the switch on the open sign.

“Oh shit, you’re probably needing to close down…” You try to stand too quickly, but lose your balance as the stool begins tipping over, your foot still entwined in the bottom rung. Roy’s strong arms are on you suddenly as he deftly steadies you and the barstool in one motion. Leaning into his firm chest for support, you untangle your foot from the offending furniture. Your breath hitches as his scent fills your nostrils and your gaze shifts slowly upward to meet his. Roy swipes gently at your parted lips with his rough thumb.

“You had a lil’ som’thin’ on your lips there, cher.” His voice is strained.

He wets his lips and the sight of his tongue sends a heat coursing through your body. Slowly, his hand slides to the back of your head and then his lips are on yours, a feather-light touch. Winding one hand around the back of his neck, you press into him. Your eagerness granting him permission, his tongue dips into your mouth and you moan into his kiss.

A growl vibrates through his chest as his hands slide down the length of your body. One hand lands on your ass, squeezing firmly and you arch your back. Roy kisses a trail from your mouth to your throat and his tongue stops to trace the vein in your neck, the sensation sending waves of heat straight to your core. You swivel your hips and press your thighs together, searching for some kind of friction.

You quickly untie the strings of Roy’s green apron from around his waist, pulling back just enough to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He releases the grip on your body, reaching a hand behind his head to grab a handful of his shirt and yank it off as you shed your jacket. His fingertips fall to trace the hem of your shirt before hooking his fingers under it and removing it from your body. The look on his face as he drinks you in is almost predatory.

His eyes lock onto the patch of white just over your collarbone and he goes completely still, the color draining from his face. You study him, glancing down self consciously to note the blood that has begun to seep from your wound, a bright red spot beginning to spread through the fibers of the bandage.

There is nothing human about the sound that escapes Roy’s throat, and your eyes shoot up to meet his. Pupils dilated, chest heaving, mouth agape as he turns around on his heel. It takes your lust-drunk brain half a second to put the pieces together.

Read Part 2 Here

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#spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #benny lafitte #benny x reader #roy!benny #roy x reader #spn reader insert #bad blood series #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #panda writes