#i’ll edit the post if anyone can help w the lost words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koinotame · 4 months

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your (househusband) roommate, ajax

word count: 1.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, childe gets called your house husband but you’re not actually married, generally gross stuff (he sniffs your used shirt), it's implied of childe scares away someone else

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! i lost the original post w/ the basic idea but essentially this is a side au of sagau/self aware genshin where the characters (in this case childe) find their way into your world, but in the process you lose all memories about genshin. i'll be reposting all of the series, but it's also on ao3! part two is here!

when you first learned who your roommate would be, you were exasperated. you’d heard about him before, and you were well aware that he's amassed a reputation of being a trouble maker. you had no interest in getting into trouble, especially not during your first year.

...so you were pretty pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a total sweetheart.

you’re reminded of that when you enter the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. the smell of pancakes wafts through the air, and you can’t even get out a small 'good morning' before ajax is grinning at you and sliding you some pancakes. "don’t wait for me and eat up, okay? I put plenty of love into them, so they should taste great."

you ignore his banter (insisting on waiting for him is a lost battle, you’ve learned) and take a bite. you don’t finish chewing before you sleepily nod.

he laughs good-naturedly. "I’m glad, I’m glad. do you want more?" another drowsy nod has him piling most of the remaining pancakes onto your plate.

he continues chatting with you while you eat and he finishes the batch, though he does most of the talking. as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much. once he’s done, he turns the fire off and props his elbow on the counter to stare at you. you don't pay him any mind.

he slides the platter to you the second you peek at it. after having eaten well over two servings you’re not really interested in more though, so you shake your head. "I'm full. aren’t you going to eat any?"

he beams. "aww, were you thinking about me? don’t worry, I already ate." you’re almost certain he didn’t. avoiding the judgemental look that crosses your eyes at his response, he laughs in a way that’d be awkward if it was anyone else. "I’ll put the rest in a tupper then, okay? have them whenever."

he’s taking your plate and putting it in the sink before you can even stand to move it to the dishwasher. you sigh and stick out your tongue at him when he turns to you. "you know you really don’t have to go out of your way do all of this."

he smiles at you. "why not? I enjoy cooking, and you can be my taste-tester." the amounts he feeds you go well beyond that, and he's avoiding the rest of your question, but okay. you should've gotten the message—that it's futile to ask him this kind of question—by now.

while you you face plant into the couch to avoid thinking about anything else, ajax stays in the kitchen, cleaning up and humming some lullaby as he washes the pan and plates. it’s too early to think on this saturday morning. the cushion feels nice and soft against your cheek and you can’t help but burrow yourself further into the pillows.

wait.

you lift your head up, peeking your head out behind the back of the couch.

"the apron is cute."

he nearly drops the pan.

it’s not often that you bring over friends, so ajax insists on cleaning beforehand and serving your group snacks much like a mother hen would throughout their stay.

their two, maybe three if you're pushing it, hour stay. all you’re going to is chat, it’s not like they’re going to be staying overnight or anything.

you sigh but let him do what he wants.

some cookies are laid out by the time they arrive, and he’s hovering around pretty much indefinitely to serve tea or juice.

it’s cute, in a way, but your friends’ teasing is not.

"you know, he’s kind of like your house husband, isn’t he?" your friend comments, leaning over and biting into a powdery cookie.

you try to ignore the way ajax beams. you try to ignore the way he cheers to himself even harder.

"not really..." your weak attempts at rebutting their words make your friends laugh.

the rest of the session goes by normally; you talk about the kinds of things you’d regularly talk about with friends. someone in your group recently received a promotion, and somebody else got fired. somebody gained a boyfriend, another realised she didn’t have the time or energy for relationships not too long ago.

the longer the conversation goes on, the more the chatter becomes background noise as the you retreat to your own world. the drink in your hands gets lukewarm long before you finish it despite your frequent sipping.

when they finally leave, you feel more relieved than you should.

you see them off with a smile, but your head is pounding by the time you sit back down and your ears can finally rest. now that you’re (mostly, ajax is always just kind of there) alone, you can finally have some peace and quiet and relax.

or that’s what you think until ajax leans over the couch, head hovering above yours. "now that they’re gone… would you prefer dinner, a bath, or me?"

you stare at him. he doesn’t move, clearly eager for your answer. eventually, you sigh and gently push his face away. "dinner would be nice."

he laughs, something warm and domestic dancing in his cold eyes. "of course! it’ll be ready soon."

he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving.

you whine, but the space he touched feels tingly even against your own hand.

"ajax."

he drops your wallet, not even attempting to take back the couple hundred bills peeking out. his response is nonchalant, even at his supposed surprise at having been caught by you. "ahh, I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. look at what I found!"

you stare. at him. at what he’s holding. at your wallet on the floor.

you’re certain you did not have that many hundred bills. you’re going to cry if you find him trying to stuff his money into your wallet again.

"you mentioned liking this, right? I was out earlier and I thought I could get it for you. you know, as a sign of goodwill and all, for being such a great roommate."

a couple months ago, you would have been perplexed. he insists on doing all of the chores and most of the cooking, and he pays most of the bills. is the 'great roommate' status because you’re quiet and don’t host loud parties, or…? you don’t question it anymore at this point.

"ajax."

a couple months ago, he might’ve gotten unnerved by your silence. instead, he pushes it into your hands, a wide grin on face, ruffles your hair and saunters out.

you have yet to find his wallet. despite that, all the cash (and then some) that you’d left on his bedside table or bed has always managed to find a way back to your wallet, so there would probably be little point anyway.

"ah, that reminds me!" he peeks back into your room a couple minutes later. "what would you like for dinner?" the nerve of him to ask this right after he calls you a great roommate…

"maybe some soup?" you say instead.

he smiles, bows, and takes his leave. the apron you called cute a few weeks ago is already fixed onto him.

you sigh, sliding the bills in properly.

wait a second. is that a credit card…?

you were expecting many things when you finally caught him, but him sniffing only your shirt—out of all your available laundry—wasn’t one of them.

"…what are you doing?"

you have never seen him jerk his head as quickly, nor have you ever seen him so red. or speechless.

you both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he blinks rapidly and his breathing becomes ragged. "it’s not—I—it’s not what you think, I swear—"

"okay, whatever." you wave him off. somehow, this doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. "I don’t care what you were doing, don’t do it again."

he nods quickly, considerably less composed than he usually is, and shoves your shirt back into the basket briskly. "also… can you stop leaving your stuff in my wardrobe. I know you know the difference."

"ah, that was…" he’s clearly at a loss for words, not sure how to justify himself after having been caught committing not only one transgression, but two.

you set the clothes of his you were bringing to him down, tempted to just throw them at him.

you swallow your nerves, almost nervously meeting his eyes. "look, I don’t really care, but can you at least leave me stuff like your jacket or sweater? your shirts aren’t really my style."

his breathing hitches again but he gives no response otherwise, so you shake your head and turn to leave. the laundromat room is thankfully empty save for the two of you, something you’re glad for.

as you pass through the door, it occurs to you that the guy who’d been smoking in here hasn’t shown up in a while. now that you think about it, that was the reason ajax had offered to take over laundry duty too...

oh well, it’s of no concern to you, you think to yourself as you make the journey back to your room.

#yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #self aware au #self aware genshin #childe #tartaglia #repost #i think that's all the tags i used last time #HOW DID THE EDITOR GET WORSE IN MY ABSENCE...

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

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trouble (matthew gray gubler/fem!reader)

Title: trouble

Request: requested by anon

Couple: matthew gray gubler/fem!reader

Category: smut (*gasp* i know...) w/ a side of fluff

Content Warning: sexual content (penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe buddies), fingering, car sex, choking kink, daddy kink (But as a joke), masturbation, slight edging (i guess that’s what it’s called)), kinda sub!reader, kinda dom!mgg, swearing, sexual innuendos, teasing, pissed off matthew

Word Count: 4369

Summary: Reader and Matthew are going out to a dinner party with the cast of Criminal Minds. After some suggestive comments and innuendos and actions (done by reader). Matthew teaches Reader a lesson in the back seat of his station wagon.

A/N: in celebration of hitting 200 followers, i decided to pus my first smut here :) although it was a request and i was going to post it either way. this was the request i got and when i saw it i got more than excited and my mind ran wild with it! matthew 10/10 calls his partner princess in this one-shot. it’s a little bit rougher than i was expecting, but i kinda lost track of my thoughts and just went for it. thank you so much to that anon that sent this in! if you have a request or an idea, send it in! and check out my masterlist!

6/1/2021 Edit: I no longer write rpf smut. this was written before I made that change.

~*~*~ THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT! ~*~*~

{***}{***}{***}

Oh boy, it was just one of those days… I could just feel it in my body that I was going to be an asshole today and nothing anyone could do could stop me from that. My sassy mood would be the one thing that gets me in trouble today, and I think I’m honestly okay with that.

I walked into the bedroom, wearing nothing but my undergarments (which consisted of my personal favorite black/mint lingerie), and tan stockings. Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes. I walked over to the closet, right past him. We should and are getting ready for a dinner party with his friends from Criminal Minds. Should being the key-word there. I loved messing with him like that.

“Woah,” he spoke ever so softly. I stayed facing the closet, but a smile grew on my lips. I gently swayed my hips as I went through the dresses I had hanging. He was staring, I knew he had to be staring. I pulled one dress out, not really thinking it’d be the one.

“What should I wear,” I asked out to the room. The sounds of his shoes hitting the wood flooring was the answer I got instead of his voice. I pouted as I dropped my head to my shoulder, my hair hitting my arm. I jumped as his icy cold hands and arms wrapped around my middle. His face was pressed into my neck. He exhaled deeply before kissing the base of my throat. I smiled as he swayed with my movements.

“I think you should go like this. Show you off to all my friends,” Matthew hummed as he dragged his hands to the front of my hips. My hands stopped on two separate dresses and clenched the fabric in my fingers. “I think they’d enjoy that… I know I would,” he added, his thumbs playing with the lacy edges of my panties. I took a deep breath and stepped back, so I was flush against his body.

“Matthew, obviously I can’t just go in my underwear.” I scoffed as he pushed me so there was a small space between us. I sighed deeply as he stepped away from me. “I’ll figure it out,” I rolled my eyes as he retreated to the bed. I filed through my dresses again before pulling out a black cocktail dress that I knew would drive Matthew crazy during the night. I dashed off to the bathroom to finish getting ready. “Zip me up?” I asked as I stepped back into the bedroom and stood behind Matthew. Shuffling came from behind me before he zipped my dress up.

“Ready to go?” he whispered. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to swallow roughly.

“Almost. Let me get my things together and I should be ready,” I sighed deeply. It’s going to be one of those nights, I just know it. Matthew pressed his lips to my cheek before walking away from me, again.

And that was my cue. I was quick. I’ve never been so fast to get ready for an event. He was probably getting out into the car as we speak. I grabbed a tube of lip gloss from the bathroom and tossed it into my bag before slipping a pair of plain black heels on. And then, I left the house.

And, as per my guess, Matthew was already sitting in his station wagon, waiting for me. I shuffled to the passenger’s side of the car and pulled the door open.

I looked over at Matthew as I slipped into the car. He was looking at himself in the mirror of the visor. I swallowed roughly as my eyes trailed from his perfectly sculpted face (lingering for a moment on his lips), down to his neck (where I would love to leave love bites), down his chest (and even though he was wearing a suit, I wanted to push off his dress shirt), and finally, down to his lap (a lap I would just love to sit on). And he was just there… Sitting there, doing his thing like I wasn’t imagining wanting to rip his clothes off to have sex with him right now.

He dropped his hands from his face and rested them on his legs. I stared for a moment at his hands and their placement on his legs. I could feel my heart pick up and my head getting mildly dizzy. I took a deep breath and shook my head as I looked up at his face.

“Mm, now that’s a lap I could sit on,” I grinned at Matthew as I buckled my seatbelt in. The thought of grinding my ass into his crotch made me giggle lightly as I stared at him.

Matthew gawked as he looked over at me, his hands resting low on the steering wheel. I smiled as I folded my hands over my lap. I could feel Matthew’s eyes still on me as I looked out the window.

“What did you just say?” he asked as he slowly started the car. I hummed before looking over at him. He was still staring at me with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Hm? Oh! I said are you ready? I can’t wait to see Kirsten and AJ.” I smiled as I looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, but his expression was now amused instead of shocked. At least he’s amused now…

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you said, Princess,” Matthew glanced at me as he started his car and pulled out of the driveway. I couldn’t tell if he actually meant to call me that pet name, or if he was just teasing. Either way, he knows it gets me going.

“And, Aisha! Oh! I miss her!” I clapped my hands together. Matthew seemed to enjoy my excitement at seeing his friends and co-workers. It’s been a while since the wrap party for the show, so it’s been a while since either of us had seen them. “I still owe her $10 for that prank she helped me play when I visited the set that one day,” I grinned at Matthew.

“Yeah, sure, because stealing and hiding my fruit roll-ups is a prank,” he rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded. “Finding them a month later though was quite a pleasant surprise. I will admit that,” he laughed lightly.

“Listen, Matthew, you were the one who invited me to set. It’s not my fault I got bored while you were filming. Someone had to keep me entertained. I’m sorry it was Aisha who took that job. We had fun that day,” I laughed as I turned to face him. I crossed my legs as I looked at him. I pulled my purse off my body and put it in the backseat, accidentally hitting Matthew in the face. “I’m so sorry.” I looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at me with a playful irritation on his face.

“Accidents happen, just don’t let it happen again,” he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded.

“Won’t let it happen again,” I looked out the windshield.

The drive to the restaurant was in a comfortable, yet somehow tense, silent. I couldn’t help myself when it came to making a comment or innuendo of some sort. Matthew didn’t seem too crazy bothered by it, if anything it looked like he enjoyed it. Of course, I knew I needed to stop before we went in. So, I stayed silent when he pulled into a parking spot.

“You ready?” Matthew asked as he pushed the visor down. I reached back for my purse and pulled it in the front. I “accidentally” hit Matthew in the back of the head with my bag as I pulled it onto my lap. Oh, no, the first time was definitely an accident. The second time was 100% on purpose. No accident this time.

He dropped his shoulders and looked over at me, annoyance on his face. I looked down at my lap and bit my lips to refrain from smiling. Oh boy, I wonder what he’s going to do. Surely he won’t yell at me.

“Choke me, daddy,” I very jokingly teased as I looked at Matthew. He looked at me with shock on his face. I smirked as I began digging around in my purse for lip gloss. When I looked back up, Matthew threw his hand over my neck and pushed my head against the headrest. I widened my eyes and looked at him. I was relieved that he was just holding his hand there, not applying any pressure. But part of me really wanted him to do it. “I was joking,” I stated in a tone that said I wasn’t sure of myself.

“I’m not so sure you were… Princess,” Matthew smiled at me before removing his hand and turning back to the visor. I pouted at the lack of his touch and looked at him. I moved closer to him and looked up at his face. “Can I help you,” he looked away from the tiny visor mirror and down at me. I smiled and nodded before puckering my lips.

“Please,” I whispered and batted my eyelashes at him. He laughed before kissing my lips lightly. I pouted as I turned back in my seat. I glanced at Matthew and noticed that he was still fixing his mess of hair in the mirror. I turned back to face him, grabbing his hand again. He glanced at me for a moment before looking back at his reflection. I slowly brought his hand back to my throat and looked at him.

I swallowed roughly as I stared at him, keeping his hand on my throat. Matthew just continued to mess around with his hair. “Are you busy with my hand,” he asked looking at me. I pouted and pushed his hand away from me.

“No, I’m not,” I muttered before looking down at my phone. I looked at Matthew and pouted. “But I’d like to be,” I glared at him as I placed my hand high on my bare thigh.

“Hold on, what do you think you’re doing,” Matthew asked as his hand shot out to grasp my wrist. I smirked and looked over at him, pushing his hand off mine.

“Well, I wanna have fun before we go in and you won’t have fun with me. So, I’m gonna do it myself. Unless you want to change your mind,” I snipped back as I brought my hand to my panties. I honestly should’ve just forgone the underwear tonight. I don’t know why I didn’t. I could feel through the thin fabric that I was wet. He didn’t even do a damn thing to get me as wet as I am. But here I am, nearly sitting in a puddle. I suppose he just has that effect on me.

I looked at Matthew as I slid my hand into my panties and pressed a finger into my center, collecting some wetness on my finger. I gasped and lightly closed my eyes. I slowly moved my finger around my clit as I looked back at Matthew. He was silently watching me for a minute. The way he looked at me told me he was pissed. I've never seen him so mad before. I let out a soft moan as I pressed my head into the headrest.

“Matthew,” I whimpered as I looked at him. He shifted slightly in his seat as he looked back at me. I slowly circled my finger around my clit as I locked eyes with him. My breathing grew labored as I brought my free hand to my breast, kneading it over my shirt and bra. Just as I started to pick up speed, Matthew’s hand grasped my wrist and stilled my movements. I looked at him, alarmed and frustrated. He seriously did not just do that.

“Get in the backseat, we’ll have to be quick,” he muttered as he yanked my hand from my panties. I looked at him with wide eyes. He was looking at my wet finger before putting it in his mouth. I took a deep breath, feeling more overwhelmed by the second. “Go on,” he half-ordered as he nodded to the back seat. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered when I stayed frozen in my seat. I nodded before getting out of the front seat and trying to move fast to the back.

I sat in the middle of the bench seat and shimmied out of my panties. Matthew was quick to sit beside me in the backseat. He didn’t even give me time to understand what was about to happen. That’s okay, I just know I’ll get what I want.

He gently pushed me so I was lying across the bench and he hovered over me and in between my legs. One of his knees stayed between my legs, making it so I couldn’t press them together for any sort of pleasure. Part of me hated it when he was like this, but another part loved it. He knew that too.

“You are being such a bad girl,” he whispered, bringing his hand back to my throat. I gasped and pressed my head into the seat. I looked up at him and nodded, telling him it was more than okay to do this. He gently and carefully put pressure into his grip as he stared down at me. I struggled slightly to breathe as I locked eyes with him again. “Touching yourself in the parking lot before we go into a dinner party… With my friends nonetheless,” he kept his voice low. Matthew brought his other hand down between my legs, resting it at the top of my thighs.

“I’m sorry,” I struggled to speak as I threw a hand over his one on my neck. He cocked his head slightly as he stared at me.

“You’re sorry, Princess?” he questioned, slowly moving his hand closer to my center. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he moved my panties to the side. I tried to swallow roughly and nodded. “Sorry just isn’t going to do it,” he spoke, causing me to open my eyes.

I tapped my fingers on the back of his hand, silently telling him that I really needed air. His eyes flashed slightly with concern as he removed his hand. I took a deep breath like it was my first time breathing. It was like fire in my lungs as I inhaled and felt like I was mildly high as I exhaled.

“I won’t do it again,” I whispered as I looked up at him. We both knew that I was clearly lying when I said that. Any chance I get to act like this, I’ll do it. A small smile twitched on his lips as he inserted a finger into my center. I gasped and closed my eyes as he pumped his finger in and out of me.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered, pushing his hand into my hair. I stared at him, shock on my face. “You know you’ll have to be punished for that. Right, Princess,” he asked as he rubbed my clit with his thumb. I whimpered and bit my lips together before nodding. “Mm-hmm, use your words,” his words were low. I swallowed roughly and stared at him.

“Yes, yes, I know. I know,” I spoke fast like if I didn’t speak fast enough I wouldn’t have words to say. I brought my hands to his belt buckle, going to undo his belt. I yelped when he grabbed both my hands with his one free hand. He held my hands above my head and smiled down at me.

“I’m in charge here, Princess, you know that,” Matthew moved his thumb faster. I wiggled and nodded. He leaned down close to my ear before whispering, “You don’t get to come till I tell you you can. Okay?” his tone was mildly teasing. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver slightly. I took a deep and shaky breath as I stared at him, a certain excitement setting in my belly. I was okay with it, honestly.

“Matthew,” I whined as I inadvertently bucked my hips to his hand. He pulled his hand away from my center, causing me to whine loudly. I stared at him in protest. “Yes, I understand,” I cried as I stared at him. He smiled before sticking his fingers between my lips. I sucked them clean, free of my arousal, as I stared at him. He smiled at me before pulling his fingers from my mouth and placing his hand on my jawline.

“Good girl,” he whispered. But the way he said it told me I wasn’t really a good girl. No, I knew I wasn’t a good girl. However, I was getting what I wanted, so who’s really winning and in charge? I just needed to be like this more often.

Matthew removed his hand from my face and down to his belt. Somehow, he managed to get his belt buckle undone with one hand, and managed to undo his pants. I looked down as he pulled himself out of his pants and boxers. I whined and tried to pull my hands. My hips ground into the seat beneath me to get some sort of pleasure.

“Wanna touch you,” I cried as I pulled my hands from his grip. He laughed as his grip on my wrists got a little tighter. “Please,” I whined looking between his face and down at his length. “Matthew, please,”

“You should have thought of that before that stunt you pulled,” he whispered before stroking himself a few times. I let out a loud whine and wiggled in my spot. He groaned slowly before lining himself up to my entrance.

I’ve never wanted to touch this man so badly in my entire life. I wanted to run my hands in his hair, tugging at the hair on the back of his head. I wanted to drag my hands all over his chest, leaving red scratchy marks in their wake. And I wanted to wrap my fingers and hands around his cock. He is killing me right now.

The head of his cock was pressed against me, causing me to inhale deeply. He smiled before slowly entering me. I struggled to stay still and quiet as he slowly bottomed out. I swallowed roughly as my breathing became ragged.

“Oh, Princess,” Matthew mocked as he looked down at me as he slowly started moving his hips. I whimpered as I continuously tried to pull my hands from his grip. A smile twitched on his lips again, further frustrating me. Bastard knows how to mess with me and I hated it more than anything in the world.

Matthew slowly, and carefully, picked up the pace of his hips. The way he brought his lips to mine made me feel dizzy. He knew how to kiss, with lips like his? Of course, he knew how to kiss. He carefully bit my lower lip before kissing his way down my jaw and to my neck. He left a small love bite on the nape of my neck, making it difficult to breathe. This level of excitement would kill me.

“Fuck,” I cried, throwing my head to the side. Matthew laughed and shook his head. A moan so loud, I swear it came from the pit of my stomach, came from my lips. He laughed again as he looked down at me

"You need to be a little quieter," he whispered into my ear. He clamped a hand over my mouth and nose to silence me. I whimpered against his hand and nodded.

He has to know how close I’m getting. I was about to be in more trouble than I already am. He keeps playing me the way he is. If he did anything else, I would be screwed. No, no wait. I already am screwed, or being screwed.

“You getting close,” he grunted. I sighed and nodded, trying to hold back a moan. His face twitched as he smiled at me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look too long at him. I knew if I kept my eyes on him I’d break. I can’t break now. He’s right though, I am getting close.

I nodded, as if my answer would give me what I wanted. He smiled before pressing his lips to mine in a rough way. When he finally pulled his hand from my wrists, I pushed my hands through his hair and kept them firmly placed on the back of his head. He groaned as I tugged lightly on his hair.

“Mmm,” I looked up at him as he pulled his head away from me. I bit my lips together and nodded. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer to me. My heels dug into his lower back as I gripped his tie with one hand.

Matthew hooked his arm under one of my knees and lifted my leg slightly to get a better angle. I cried when a burn started to grow in my hamstring, but also when he pressed deeper into me. I closed my eyes and pressed my head into the seat. I could feel myself getting closer. Maybe he forgot what he said?

And then he stopped his movements. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, feeling anger grow suddenly on my face. Matthew was looking down at me with a smile on his lips. Although, I knew it must’ve been hard for him to stop. He was just happy to see me suffer.

“I hate you. Please, please,” I pulled on his tie to bring him closer to my face. Matthew smiled at me before pressing his lips to mine. I whined against his lips. He laughed before slowly moving his hips again. “I’m so close,” I managed to get out through pants.

“Yeah,” he asked the obvious. I screwed my eyes shut and nodded. I’m sure if I had it in me, I would have been more than sarcastic. But I couldn’t even begin to try. I’m sure he would keep teasing me if I was sarcastic, so my best bet was to either stay quiet or let out a grotesque sound. I went with the latter. That seemed to please Matthew.

“Promise you won’t do that again,” he brought his hand to push my hair away from my face, before resting it on my cheek. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “Uh, use your words, Princess,”

“I… I promise…” I spoke, my voice was soft and shaky. I pressed both my hands flat on his chest as I looked up at him. He smiled softly and nodded.

“Come on, come for me,” he whispered, keeping his hips moving at a steady pace. After a moment, I felt my body snap and tighten around him. I threw my arms back around his neck as I buried my face into his body. I shouted his name when I reached my high. My body arched up into his, and he held me close.

Matthew’s movements faltered slightly and a groan fell from his lips. I could feel him release inside me as he rode out his orgasm. Oh, that bastard.

He gently rested me back down on the seat. I looked up at him and laughed, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. He looked down at me, smiled before laughing.

“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he mused as he moved away from me and sat at the way opposite end of the seat. I stayed lying down, watching as he tucked himself back in his pants.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” I smiled at him, watching as he went to the front seat. He moved a few things around before coming back to me with a handful of napkins and a pack of wet wipes. “I think I might have to break my promise and do that again,” I laughed at him again.

“Well, now we’re late, so I hope you’re happy,” he mumbled as he cleaned between my legs. I flinched at the coolness of the wipes. When he finished cleaning me up, as best he could, he grasped my hands and pulled me so I was sitting up. I looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, I got my fun,” I kissed his lips. I reached upfront for my bag and pushed Matthew out of the car. I quickly fixed my hair in the reflection of the window before following close behind him.

Of course, when we entered the restaurant, loud chatter came from the far side. Everything told me that it was Matthew’s friends doing all the talking.

“There he is!” A familiar and friendly voice shouted as we got closer to the table. I stood beside Matthew and smiled at him. “With his lovely girlfriend,”

“Kirsten! It’s great to see you,” I smiled at her when I saw who was talking. I walked around to embrace her. Shemar whispered something to Adam before looking over at Matthew, then at me, and then back at me.

"So sorry we're late," Matthew spoke as he pulled a chair out for me. I glanced at him before sitting. He sat beside me and smiled. "I forgot something at home and had to turn back to get it. And then the traffic here was awful." The lie he told was so easy. I'm impressed he told it so easily.

"And I needed to change. There was a stain on the front of my dress." I looked down at my dress that I’ve been in since we left the house. I did not change...

“You’re both walking like you just had sex,” Shemar looked between Matthew and I. I looked up at Matthew before looking at the table. I could feel my cheeks warm up. “You didn’t,”

“Yeah, we… we just had sex.” I muttered.

taglist: @boiled-onionrings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @spencer-reid-enthusiast

#shadow posts stuff #shadow writes stuff #masterlist #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut #doctor spencer reid #doctor spencer reid imagine #doctor spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spence reid fanfiction

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mrskurono · 3 years

Text

a/n: this is the first installment(?) of the Nori brain rot from ages ago w/a Studio Ghibli vibe, idk man this just happened word count: 2.2k tags: post!Shibuya arc, possible spoilers, blood, violence, cursing(?), heavily Hoizer inspired, kinda edited character(s): Noritoshi Kamo, fem!sorcerer reader pt ll

Curses stank.

In a metaphorical sense yes. But also in a literal sense for you.

These twisted beings permeated your senses like a rot that you could never rid. Unless exorcised they stuck around in your nostril for days. Each one a different smell but all of them stuck in your craw all the same.

Beasts of rancid nature in behaviors and looks. Nothing more than to be exorcised by sorcerers. You learned quickly that exorcising the curses was no different than taking out week old trash.

What you hadn’t planned on was someone doing more than dumping trash on the world. Whatever had happened. Suddenly you were faced with more than just dutiful tasks of keeping non sorcerers safe. A monsoon of trash had been dumped not only on you. But every human in this world.

Your nostrils burned. And you couldn’t be rid of these things quick enough. Each one you exorcised only meant two or three popped up in their place. Never ending. You couldn’t stomach this smell though. It wouldn’t kill you before you got a breath of fresh air.

Glancing around you take a deep breath. Mountain air on the outskirts of Kyoto during this time of year always meant a refreshing break from the city stank. What you smelled wasn’t refreshing. It was that same vile smell you could clearly recall.

A curse. One that was close too.

To thread carefully was to perhaps save your life. Every aspect of daily life ripped from you. As well of millions of others. You had done your part to try and protect those around you. Soon finding it in slight vain as you sought out some place to find your own breath of fresh air in this madness.

‘It’s close....I feel like I’m gonna hurl.’ Thoughts toying with where the curse might have hidden itself. You keep a firm grip on your hilt with every intent to draw it the second the creature made the mistake of slipping up.

Where you could smell it lurking. There was something else. Almost metallic in scent. You ignored it though. Nothing over powered the scent of a curse. You longed for just the sight of these things. Told over and over again how handy it was to have more than one sense open to curses. Each and every time you took a whiff of one, it made you wish nothing more than to just be able to see these creatures instead of smell them as well.

‘Wait-’ Every alarm in your body went off. Snapping around you couldn’t smell the rancid putridness of the curse anymore. That same metallic scent hung around though. You couldn’t identify it. It was something you’d never smelt before but also so familiar.

Each hair on the back of your neck rose. This was an old deserted Buddhist temple. No one should have been here except you and the curse ransacking the place. A safe haven or so you thought. When your instinct told you to step behind one of the structural beams. You were suddenly glad you did.

Mere inches from your face, the gust of an arrow whistled past you. Weapons were not used by curses. Now you understood. That smell was human.

Quick to defend yourself, with sword drawn, you didn’t expect the same arrow to make a hard one eighty back in the direction you were. No wooden pillar to save you now. You raise your sword just quick enough to sheer the object in half. Rendering what ever power it was imbued with useless. As it had sped past you though the faint smell of iron suddenly became strong. Whatever it was from had a source. Likely human.

Not ready to give up your ideal hiding place to some interloper. You take only a second to focus on the unfamiliar smell. Faint. And not like a curse. There was something towards the back of the temple though that hinted that they were lurking where you couldn’t see them.

With an idea of where the attack would come from. When another arrow came flying by you from a faceless source, you were ready. Smacking it down before the enchanted weapon could turn on you like the first had. This time though you’d seen what angle the projectile was fired from.

‘Gotcha,’ No shortage of ways around a deteriorated temple like this. You duck down through a few broken beams and make your way up to where the attack came from.

Expecting to have but a lowly sniper sitting with no way to guard themselves. You find no one. But the scent lingered. Scrutinizing it closer you decided maybe to use a different sense, “...Hey, I know you’re not a curse! Neither am I! Maybe if you just-” Words cut off by another arrow whizzing past you. There was nothing ruder than being interrupted. Glowering in the direction that the arrow came from now you tightened you grip on your sword, “Ok! I get it- Strangers we might not-”

Another arrow. This time too close to your head for comfort. You lost your patience with the third one.

Recklessly charging towards the assailant was clearly enough to throw their game off track. Swinging your weapon before seeing what it was to lie before you. It was a surprise when your blade met with the dull thud of the wooden limb of a bow.

“What the-” You attack deflected for the moment being. Your first instinct is to jump back from whoever deflected your attack. In close enough range you thought you had the upper hand to avoid the bow. But that was purely lazy thinking on your part as the cause of the stank of iron became clear.

“Slicing exorcism!” This nobody who reeked of iron shot what looked to be a shuriken made of blood at you.

No time to be disgusted. An overwhelming scent of blood made it apparent what you’d been smelling. It wasn’t a simple metal. It was blood.

“Oh- Oh!” You raise your blade up in the nick of time to just get the splatter of cold liquid on your cheeks. Disgusted in passing you have no time to dwell as the stranger before you makes to dart away. With their head of dark hair in your line of sight, you weren’t ready to try and re-find them once again in this maze of debris.

Lurching forward you feel the upper hand stall when they stopped your attack once more with the brute of their bow. Clear view of them now. The man who’d clearly fired the arrows was all but composed when shaking off your attack. No way to not suspect another sorcerer caught up in this giant trash heap of curse attacks. You still have no time to play nice when they hurl another blood conjured weapon at you.

In such suddenness you are less lucky than you have been. This one catching your cheek and causing a sting to spread throughout the skin of your face. Fed up with this game you don’t care if he’s a sorcerer or not. This was a one for all situation now that you intended to win.

Firm foot hold found. You realize the man has cornered himself at this point. Range attacks out of the question. Undoubtedly giving you the upper hand now. With a hefty swing of your sword and the first time you’d channeled any energy into at all. You bring it down like a guillotine. Ready to strike flesh. Instead the snap of the bow is your first sign of an upper hand.

All but trash the man throws it aside but too slowly. You’re on him before the range attacker can pull that weird blood trick again. Slight intent to kill as if he were a curse. You swipe your foot down and knock him down to the temple floor with a hard thud.

You waste no time between the moment his head hit the ground and your above him. Tip of your blade pressed to his neck. One breath too deep from him and the sharp tip would pierce his pale skin. Eyes fixated down on him you realize in the moments after your adrenaline fades that he’s staring right up at you.

Sharp tongue your words come out curt only to be interruped right away, “Who are-”

“Another sorcerer-” His eyes open from the slits they’d remained in the skirmish, “What are you doing here? How did you-”

“I get to ask the questions!” You snarl, jabbing his throat with your sword just enough to watch a crimson bead peak from under the tip of your weapon, “You attacked me, what are you doing up here? Why were you-”

“...you’re so pretty-” Suddenly his eyes open wide realizing what he said, “Wait I didn’t-”

“Shut up or I’ll cut your throat out!” Your sword pressing uncomfortably into the side of his neck now, “I asked you a question! Why are you up here!?”

“Kamo-”

“What? What are you-”

“Kamo family!” He quickly sputtered, “Head of the Kamo family!”

The name rang a bell somewhere in your frazzled brain.

“I’m the head-” He suddenly registered really the blade to his neck, “I’m looking for stragglers-”

“In an abandoned temple?” You weren’t buying it.

“My people live just down the hill,” He spoke earnestly, “I had to keep the stragglers safe when the curses released from their seals in the keep. Some where up here but-”

“I killed them,” You glared down at him, “I killed all but the one you shot. How long were you up here? Were you following me?”

A shake of his head even as he stared at the glimmer of your sword, “No. I was looking for anyone who came up here. I didn’t expect to find another sorcerer. I felt your cursed energy and assumed you were a curse.”

Eyes narrowing you didn’t like the sound of something so simple to this pretty face, “...I don’t believe you. Give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now or else-”

“Noritoshi-” He blurted out, “Noritoshi Kamo. Head of the Kamo family. I can give you some place safe to stay. I don’t understand what’s going on but-”

You lift the blade from his throat. Something about the diligent tone in his voice. Like he’d introduced himself like that a million times. You could kill him but it seemed a waste. Weapon retracted but no offer to help him up. You stand above him with a confounded glare, “...do you know what’s happening?”

His head shook and your stomach dropped. Noritoshi didn’t get up. Only propping himself up slightly when he realized the back of his head was thumping from the impact, “....A special grade curse released a powerful seal in Shibuya about two weeks ago...I saw but....” His face became somber and he shook his head once again, “...I don’t know what’s been going on. I just know things are in disarray and it’s my duty to protect my people.”

Once more you were skeptical but with how little rest you’d gotten in the past few days due to the tremendous increase in curses. This man’s words seemed as solid as any other theory you’d heard. More so than the plea of non sorcerer’s you listened to day in and day out about the end of times.

“...Has the Jujutsu elders said anything?” You step off him completely. If he was speaking the truth maybe he knew what was going on as an actual heir to one of the clans.

Noritoshi looked up at you a moment longer, “No...there’s been a wide emergency notice to do what you can but our numbers....” He grew quiet, “...as many sorcerers seem to be dying as the rest of Japan.”

Perhaps the end of times were coming. You grip your sword hilt tight and take a deep breath, “....seems a angel of death is coming then whether we like it or not.”

“You’re a sorcerer.” He began to get to his feet, “Please, come with me. If anything to stay away from here. There is a grave yard on the other side of the thicket. More curses will come. No one should be here even as a sorcerer yourself.”

First hand you’d seen the influx he spoke of. From every direction. While out of the city provided some safety you knew that this place left you as vulnerable as any other if you stayed alone. With no words to be spoken of from the elders. And an age of curses threatening to crowd out humans. Like a trash pile reaching it’s capacity. You didn’t see much choice in this one.

“...I will kill you if I find out you’re lying to me.” Voice firm without breaking eye contact with him as you sheath your sword, “I smell one curse in this safe space of yours and I’ll-”

“Kill me, yes,” Noritoshi nodded with both busted ends of his bow in his hands as he looked on at you, “I am not lying but if you see fit, I’ll accept you as my angel of death then.”

a/n: I have one wine cooler in me as I finish this. This might be a multi part if the inspiration finds me. Anyways, um, yeah! This is an old idea coming so pls let me know if you liked it!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #jjk noritoshi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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galaxxiwrites · 3 years

Note

Heya! =D so you can decide if you wanna do it, but can you do a headcanon reaction of how Akira, Zakuro and Mizuki would react to their darling protecting them like a shield when they noticed that someone was about to try and hurt them and ended up getting badly injured from the hit. Again completely fine if you ignore this request.

Angst? *cracks fingers* Hegg yeah.

warning: these ended up being super long

edit: I forgot to mention, it has mentions of blood and shot!!

prompt: You and your lover were merely enjoying your date together, until you noticed a glint of something hiding in the shadows. It wasn't until you heard a loud bang did your mind register it was a gun. Despite your confusion, your body moves faster than your mind processes anything and you shove your lover away from the bullet's path—unfortunately leaving you to take the bullet in his stead.

Taking a hit (ft. Mizuki, Akira & Zakuro)

Mizuki

Mizuki is stunned. His mouth agape as he stands there, unsure of what to do first.

His mind wrestles with thoughts of getting the bastard who shot you or helping you, but when he sees the pool of blood slowly growing bigger, his body moves by itself.

"Hey...hey...! (Y/n)!"

Mizuki screams and shakes you, but your lack of response makes his heart drop.

He's racing to grab his phone, and his hands were too shaky to properly work the touchpad, but despite the odds he was able to properly pick out Kokuyo from his list of contacts and calls the one man he looks up to.

"Mizuki, what is it? We're in the middle of practice—"

Kokuyo sounded annoyed, but immediately fell silently when he heard Mizuki's sobs.

"Kokuyo...what do I do—?"

Mizuki can't talk properly, but does his best to explain the situation to him.

Kokuyo tells Mizuki to wait there with you while he calls an ambulance. Not like Mizuki had much of a choice anyway, as he didn't want to leave you alone.

The ambulance arrives after what feels like forever, and Mizuki's sobs that finally dried a while ago start up again as he sees you being whisked away into the vehicle on a stretcher.

For the remainder of what happened, it was all a blur to him. All Mizuki remembers was crying in front of the ER while they worked on stabilizing your condition.

After those gruesome hours of worrying, the doctors finally leave the ER. They tell Mizuki they did what they could—and that your chance of survival was 50/50 at best.

Mizuki was about to beat the doctor for not doing a better job of saving you, but Kokuyo stopped him before he could grab the doctor by the collar.

Mizuki asked for a few days off Starless, and even asked Sotetsu to dig up some information on your the attacker.

"Don't worry, (y/n). I'll make sure whoever did this to you is gonna pay."

He says, though not really waiting for a reply. After all, how could a person in deep slumber ever answer back?

Akira

Akira immediately calls the ambulance, and tells them everything despite his shaky voice almost failing him multiple times throughout the duration of the call.

Akira also tells Kokuyo about what happened, and excuses himself time off from Starless until he was assured that you were no longer in critical condition.

He stayed up all night outside of the ER, unable to even sit down despite his feet almost giving out from the fatigue of him pacing back and forth.

"We tried to close the shop as fast as we could. How is (y/n)?"

Takami asks, shocking the daylights out of Akira who was too focused on his thoughts of you to even realize that they arrived.

Akira's voice failed him. All he could was stare blankly back at the doors leading to the ER room, where you were.

Some time after, some doctors and nurses finally left the ER room. The one handling your operation told Team W that your condition has stabilized, and that you should be fine soon.

Finally, Akira was able to calm down. He just dropped to the floor, his whole body trembled as a murmurs of relief could be heard.

Taiga on the other hand, decided to dig up some information. After all, the world now revolved around the internet—it wouldn't be surprising if some wackjob ended up posting whatever schemed they had on their social media, especially if it was a throw away account.

Luckily, this sort of thing was childs play for the tech expert, and after a few hours of searching, was finally able to trace the fake account to its real owner—one of Akira's delusional fans.

The singer is mortified to see the latest post on the person's social media.

"Soon, he'll be mine."

Again, Akira's nerves tensed. Kokuyo smacks Taiga for showing them such information when Akira hasn't rested yet, but the singer thanks his team member. He even commits the person's face to memory, despite his mind feeling light from all the stress and lack of sleep.

In the early morning after her surgery, a nurse was scheduled to come in to monitor on (y/n)'s condition.

Akira stands to greet the nurse, but stops himself when he recognizes the face. This woman was no nurse, it was his fan.

He absentmindedly mumbles the person's social media handle, staring at them wide-eyed in disbelief.

Hearing her name being called out excited the fan.

"Yes! That's me! Don't worry Akira...once I get rid of this pest, we can finally be together. Like how it's supposed to be!"

Akira couldn't fathom the words that came out of this deranged fan's mouth. Without realizing it himself, Akira had his hand clenched into a fist, ready to punch this lunatic and hopefully fix whatever brain wires needed repair.

"Oi, give it a break. Jeez, a man can't even enjoy a smoke break."

Kokuyo came just in time to stop Akira from beating the woman in front of him to death, meanwhile Sin held the woman down. Akira was about to ask how they knew, but Taiga waved his phone to show hom some kind of gps app.

"It's a tracker. I had a feeling she would be making a move, so I decided to track her phone. Sorry not sorry for invading on your privacy, miss stalker fan." The tech master announces proudly.

"Takami's gonna give her over to the police. Meanwhile...you should sleep. Those eyebags don't suite you, pretty boy."

Kokuyo says, before leaving with the rest of Team W to give the two of you some silence—one that Akira desperately needed as he finally dozes off to sleep on your bedside.

Zakuro

Zakuro has a menacing look on his face—it's a smile, but so distorted with pain that he looks like a maniac.

He shakes your limp body and calls out your name.

"O—ya...? (Y/n)...?"

Zakuro's voice cracks as he realized your body remained unmoving. Zakuro's mind is blank— for the first time he's never felt so lost.

It wasn't until he received a text message did his mind finally managed to start working again.

"Good job on luring her out, ×××"

Read the text message from the unknown number. It doesn't take a genius to connect two and two together, after all, no one should have known his real name. You were targeted by Black Card—but why? What did you have to do with any of this?

Zakuro, instead of directly calling the ambulance, texts Qu to do it in his place, as he knew their number two would ask later rather than sooner.

Zakuro hides himself among the crowd, but he feels his heart drop when he sees you out on the stretcher.

He wants to be there with you, at least holding your hand while they take you to the ER. But now was not the time, not when someone from Black Card might still be monitoring his movements.

He returns to Starless, and it was only until Kei asked Zakuro about the source of the bloodstain on his clothes does he realize his garments were soiled—with your blood.

Quite ironic, considering how this is the perfect literature imagery of a person's blood on one's hands. So ironic that Zakuro breaks down into a chuckle.

Team C's singer asks Kei for some time off on Starless. Naturally, Kei can't just give anyone time off, they were employees in an industry that requires one's constant presence to remain relevant.

Kei tells Zakuro that of the latter would explain, then he might consider it.

"(Y/n)...She was shot."

Was all Zakuro utters before taking his leave from the building. All the others who were in close proximity were shocked, not just at what he said but how he said the news. Zakuro sounded absolutely broken, his voice lost all hints of mischief he once had.

Zakuro wished he was able to visit you and give himself some peace of mind that you were going to be alright, but he can't.

He refused to rest, not until he learns everything. About your connection to Black Card, or why you were specifically targeted. He knows it won't be easy, but he's willing to risk it all for you.

"If you bastards think I'd choose my memories over (y/n), then you're dead wrong. All of you are going to regret this."

#thank you for the request!#bsts #blackstar theater starless #bsts headcanons #bsts akira #bsts mizuki #bsts zakuro

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geniusgub · 3 years

Text

north//chapter fifteen

genre: angst

warnings: prison, mentions of solitary confinement, mentions of physical abuse, spoilers for The Good Doctor, spoilers for Lucifer, alcohol, drugging

word count: 7.1k

summary: spencer gets used to life in prison in the worst ways. amelia goes through a rollercoaster of emotions and tries to cope with spencer being out of reach. she tries to stay positive and convince others that she is okay.

i’d like to say once again that having a good understanding of the prison arc is helpful in reading this fic. i don’t explain every single detail (because it’s unnecessary to) and if you’re not familiar w the storyline, it’ll be harder to comprehend.

school is over so i’ll have more time to edit and post!!!! yay!! enjoy the chapter :)

SPENCER

"Is that clear?"

"Yes, yes, it's clear!"

My heart pounds against my chest and that's all I can feel. Absolute fear and absolute helplessness. I can't do anything here. I've accepted that but maybe I've just been lying to myself. How can I ever accept that I can't do anything to protect myself or protect others? I’ve spent my life protecting. I need to protect. I need to.

The fear and the panic are overwhelming and I'm thrashing around. I can't do anything to stop it. I wish it would stop. The panic is overwhelming. It's consuming. It's eating me alive. It’s too uch. It’s way too much. I need to go and protect. I need to protect.

"Help! Help!"

I jerk awake, drenched in sweat and my hair matted to my forehead. The images of my dead friend are still flashing in my head and as badly as I want to forget, I know I never will. My back and bottom ache from the metal cot I’m on, my limbs stiff in the smaller-than-twin, poor excuse of a mattress.

I twist my body and reach under my pillow, pulling out the journal that my counselor had given me and the pencil, scribbling down my stream of consciousness as quickly as I possibly can. It's barely readable in my chicken scratch writing but who cares enough to read what I have to say anyway? No one. Nobody cares here. Nobody cares about me. I’m nothing.

Getting more and more intense. Got to fall deeper in to beat them. I've lost friends before, but not like this. Not in a box where I have no control. Or do I? Starting to think like them, starting to survive like them. I'm here because I made a choice. What if that means I don't get out alive?

My blood runs cold as I dot the question mark with my trembling hand. I swipe my hand across my dripping forehead and grimace at how wet my hand comes back. I throw my journal onto the floor and lay back down, forcing my eyelids closed.

How could I expect myself to sleep? I'm foolish to think I will. But I keep up the illusion for a while and keep my eyes closed, hoping that sleep will draw me in, but it never does. I just keep replaying the events that plague me every night, and eventually, my eyelids snap open again. The gory images were too much. Then the beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed images became too painful. I scrunch up my eyebrows when I feel a headache forming between them.

My eyes immediately land on the journal, and red hot flames replace my brown orbs. That journal is horrible. It's filled with depressing content and it's falling apart and it's a disgusting brown color. It doesn't have my name in beautiful calligraphy on the front, and perfect drawings of beakers and coffee cups and strawberries and books and records players and decks of cards, and my confessions of love for my girlfriend inside. It doesn't have any of that beauty on the inside. No, this journal contains my deteriorating mind and my disappearing conscience.

Barely having control of my tired muscles, I roll off the bed and land on my hands and knees, holding in my grunts of agony. The cell block is almost silent, aside from the fans blowing around stale, warm air, and I don't intend to piss off anyone by disrupting their sleep. I keep my mouth shut after the initial impact sound.

I make the bed. I fold the corner of the sheets, so they are absolutely perfect. I fold the blanket and tuck it under the mattress. I smooth my hands over the top of the bed to make it perfect. It has to be perfect. If the bed isn’t perfect, it will get torn apart by the officers. They will rip up my bed and take away my blanket and pillow and humiliate me in front of the whole cell block. I don’t need that to happen again. I experienced that on my first week here and I vowed to never let it happen again. I make the bed and then I make it again, then fix it, then arrange it perfectly one more time. Finally. Perfection. It has to be perfect.

I push my journal against the wall and lay on my back, setting my feet flat against the floor and tucking my hands behind my head. I keep count in my mind as I lift my chin to my knees, ignoring the burn in my abs and the sharp pain in my spine from the concrete I'm rolling my bones against.

Once I've reached my goal number, twenty higher than yesterday’s number, I roll over onto my hands and lift myself up, and start my press ups. I begin a new, higher count in my head as I continuously bring my nose to the concrete, and with each time my biceps flex, the anger flares up. I clench my jaw and my stomach bubbles and my head gets light.

Fuck prison. Fuck it. Fuck the fact that I have to be here. Fuck Frazier and fuck his gang and fuck his shank and fuck the fact that he killed Luis. Fuck this whole situation. This is madness.

I'm becoming them. I am them. I either become them or I die, and I refuse to die in here. I refuse to die without curing Alzheimer's and getting married and having children and spending my life hunting the very people I'm locked in here with. I refuse to die knowing that there's a whole life I could live if I keep fighting. I refuse to break law after law in here like my life doesn't matter in the free world. I refuse to lose the person that I was, even if he's slipping further and further away by the second. Even if every time I try to recall the person I was, the images of my own face get more and more blurry. They’re hard to make out.

And maybe he's already gone and I've already sucked in the traits of the felons around me. Maybe I just refuse to accept who I am now. That's more likely than the lies I feed myself.

I work my muscles until the sun peeks in through the tiny window across from my cell. I'm drenched in sweat, even more than before, and my muscles are aching, but it's easy to forget. And if I can't forget, then it's easy to revel and bask in the intense pain.

The correctional officers bring us to the chow hall and we all collect our disgusting food and eat as quickly as possible. We usually only have three minutes for meals. Three minutes. That's it. It was horrible at first. I had to sit at a table, alone, with my shoulders hunched, shoveling food into my mouth. If you don’t eat at chow, you don’t eat at all. I always used to go back to my cell and curl up in my bed, thinking I was going to throw up. The combination of moldy, rotten food and a three-minute time crunch to eat has horrifying results. But now, three minutes is child's play. Three minutes is eating leisurely. I could eat my entire meal in exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. Three minutes, now, is generous.

After breakfast is visitation and, to no one’s surprise, my name is called. I wonder who's on Garcia's list for today. They haven't managed to stick to a set schedule yet, due to cases and traveling, so I have no way of predicting who I'll see. I’m always left to wander into the visitation room and come up with lies on the spot.

I stick my hands out and allow Wilkins to slap cuffs on me, but I never meet his eyes. I wouldn't dare to. No amount of crunches or push-ups will ever prepare me to take him. I keep my eyes down and, shamefully, let him push me towards the visitation room.

I scan the little tables for a familiar face and smile the tiniest bit when I see Rossi sitting and waiting for me. He hasn't come to visit me yet, and out of the two people I don't want to visit me at all-- my girlfriend and my mom-- I've been waiting to see him. I resist the urge to push the person in front of me to get as much time with Rossi as possible. I wouldn’t dare risk pushing someone. I don't need a fight to send me to solitary confinement. Huh. Actually, solitary confinement doesn't seem too bad right now. I could get away from all these other inmates who want to hurt me. I could relax in solitary.

I sit down and just give Rossi an expecting look, utterly speechless. I've had so many questions to ask him. I've needed so much advice, but now I have nothing to say. My voice is stuck in my throat. His facial hair is longer. The bags under his eyes are a shade darker. Luckily, he speaks first. "You haven't slept." Okay, not what I wanted or needed him to say.

I just shrug nonchalantly. "It's been a while." What else can I say?

Rossi just nods. What else can he do? "I heard about your friend, Delgado. I'm really sorry, Spence," Again, not what I wanted or needed him to say. I don't want to hear or talk about Luis anymore. I'm tired of dwelling on that. I feel guilty enough. I don't need to see his slit throat every time I close my eyes and then open my eyes and talk about him. I don't need that. When I'm unresponsive to this, Rossi continues. "Is there anyone you can talk to?"

I roll my eyes to the back of my head. If my mother were here, she would warn me that if I do that long enough, my eyes would get stuck there. "We have group therapy once a week. The counselor wants me to keep a journal. So I am, but I don't really think it's helping."

Rossi's furrows his eyebrows. "How come?"

A scoff escapes my lips before I can stop it. "Because no one in here is honest. I mean, not a single person can admit that they're terrified," my cuffs rattle as I move my hands as if to hone in what I'm saying. "If we can't agree on that one basic truth, then it doesn't really matter."

"They could just be numb to it all." That's what Rossi offers up. It could help. It would help if I was in the free world.

"Well," my voice softens and even though I know there are gang members around me and people who want to hurt me, I let my guard down, "I'm not. There's," I drop my head the tiniest bit, "there's a helplessness in here that causes people to do things they'd never consider."

Rossi sighs, and this was what I was scared of. I open up and he has nothing to say to me. He has no world-class wisdom to offer. I'm prepared to do what I did to Garcia and practically ignore him for the rest of the visit, but when he reaches into his jacket, my intrigue beats out my disappointment.

I recognize the calligraphy on the front of the envelope as soon as I see it. It's on the front of every single one of my journals that still lay in my desk drawer. It looks as beautiful as ever in black ink, outlined and accented in a yellow pen. There's a lump in my throat that I try to swallow.

"I had to flash my badge just to get it in here so you better read it. I'm not letting you refuse to read this like you refuse to see her," Rossi moves the letter closer to me, directly in my eyesight.

I swallow the thick lump and slowly raise my cuffed hands to grab the envelope. I carefully, without ripping my cursive name, make a slice in the top with my finger and pull out pieces of paper that I recognize to be paper ripped out of Amelia's journal.

"Did you read this?" I ask Rossi as I place the envelope down.

"It was still sealed, wasn't it?"

I nod and stay silent as I drop my head again. I could cry just at the sight of Amelia's handwriting. She touched this paper. This specific piece of paper. This piece of paper was in her hands, in her apartment, and now it’s in my hands. She sat and put pen to paper and wrote this out for me to read. And with one final breath, I finally bring myself to actually start reading it.

To my love dove,

Hi!! How are you? I'm only okay, but there's something I need to tell you can it can't wait any longer.

I started watching this tv show called The Good Doctor a few weeks ago and I've finished the entire series. Honestly, Spencer, it's so amazing. I think you would love it so much.

I know you don't watch that much tv, unless I'm around, so I'll tell you what it's about. The show is about this resident surgeon named Shaun Murphy who is fighting to get a job at a hospital, but the administration of the hospital won't give him a job because he has autism. But then he saves a child's life in an airport or something (I can't remember exactly, it’s been a while) and does a procedure that is really innovative and outside the box and it floors everyone and the hospital hires him.

The show follows him navigating adult life and relationships and his job and him learning how to be less dependent on older people telling him what to do. He gets a girlfriend and loses his virginity and then starts talking about sex at work which is fucking hilarious but also stupidly inappropriate, and he has a friend who's a girl who his girlfriend has a problem with.

And then (I'm sorry, baby, but spoilers are coming!!) they kill off one of the main characters at the end of the third season! How dumb! Melendez was one of my favorite characters and he was just about to admit to Claire that he's in love with her and then they killed him off for such a stupid reason. The season ends on a cliffhanger! You know how much I hate cliffhangers. And that plot of Claire and Melendez falling in love was teased at for so long and they gave it to us just to take it right away!!!! Cruel!! Do I have grounds to sue for emotional distress? I think there is. I should get on this.

Okay. I've calmed down now.

Fine. You caught me. I haven't. I'll never calm down from my heartbreak over Dr. Melendez. But I can move on for now.

I think you would really like this show and I'd be willing to watch it again with you. I think you'd enjoy it. They talk a lot about medical terms and medical procedures and there’s diagrams and everything. And whether they're accurate and precise or not, I'm sure you'd enjoy picking out mistakes in the procedures or telling me why the procedures are revolutionary. And no matter which option it is, I'm ready to listen and learn.

Before I watched The Good Doctor, I finished watching Lucifer, but I know that you hated that show. But he went back to Hell!!!!!!!!!!! He really did That!!!!! He left Chloe and went to Hell!!!!!! So fucking rude. I screamed out loud when he said he was leaving. Thankfully, there's going to be a season five and maybe I'll make you watch that with me so we can see what happens with Lucifer and Chloe. I debated on watching Star Trek or Doctor Who because you're always talking about how much you love those shows, but I know I won't understand it. I'll need you to explain it to me. I think I'll just wait to watch those with you. Sounds like a good date night to me.

I love you more than words can even express. I miss you more than I will ever be able to say (or in this case, write). I know you're not doing well and I know you don't want to see me but I hope that hearing from me helps you in some way. I don't know how it would but I hope it does.

I love you. I promise, I'll see you so soon.

With all the love in my tiny body,

from your pretty girl,

Amelia <3

ps. idk if you're shaving your face in there but... I'm curious to see what you look like with a mustache and beard... that's a sight I never thought you'd let me see. Hmm. I shouldn't let my mind wander. Sorry. I love you. Kisses.

I read over her letter once, twice, three times. Every time I read it, I notice something new. Every time I read the letter, I notice a teardrop beside a word, of a subtle smudge of a pen, or another hesitation in her pen stroke.

I read it again. And then I read it again. But then I read it one more time. And just when I think I've had enough, I read it another time. I’m on the tenth read before the wheels actually start turning in my head, slower than usual. This letter has distraction written all over it in Amelia’s pretty writing. I don't like medical dramas and I hated Lucifer. She knows that. She acknowledged that in her letter. But this is the kind of thing she would tell me as we're eating dinner when I get home from a case, or as we're laying in bed, or when we're showering, or when we're sitting on the balcony of one of our apartments. This serves that purpose, except this time, it's in letter form. She's distracting me. God, I would give anything to break out of here and drag her to a courthouse and marry her right now.

"Reid?"

My head snaps up when Rossi speaks, and when I force our eyes to meet, he's holding out a pen. I know for a fact that pens aren't allowed. Pens could be considered a weapon in the hands of the wrong inmate. He snuck this in, and I'm not sure how, but I don't want to know how.

I snatch the pen out of his hand and rip the sides of the envelope so there's more room to write, scribbling down my thoughts as fast as possible. I don't want to get caught. If I do, I can't imagine the trouble I'll get in, especially if Wilkins catches me. When I'm pleased with what I've written, I fold up the envelope and hand that and the pen back to Rossi. But I keep the letter, tucking it into the waistband of my pants so it's completely out of sight.

Rossi smiles, putting the envelope back in his jacket pocket and flattening the lapels. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her--" I'm cut off by a sharp alarm going off, a guard screaming about a lockdown, and for all the inmates to return to their cells. I sigh, rising to my feet. "It's all there. Just give that to her."

///

AMELIA

///

"Hi, Jeannie," My voice is only a mumble as I greet the receptionist. She gives me a pitiful smile, another new tradition that has only formed in the last few weeks, handing over a visitor's pass and watching as I clip it to the pocket of my jacket.

I drag myself to the elevator and hit the up button, drag myself inside, and when it opens on the sixth floor, I drag myself to Penelope's office. My mood is lower than it has been lately. I didn’t really think it could get any lower. But here I am with a heart heart, hunched shoulders, and the inability to smile. I'm not sure why I feel like this on this specific day, as opposed to any other shitty day, but maybe it's because I know that Penelope went to visit Spencer today. All I know is that I barely wanted to drag myself off of Jenna's couch this morning and get dressed and show up here. I could barely pay attention to the new episode of The Good Doctor that Jenna coaxed me into watching with her last night. I could barely get myself to come through the front doors of the building, but I show up to the BAU every single morning like I work here.

I plug in the code to Penelope's door and push it open, and I’m welcomed to a sight that I didn't think I'd see for a while. Luke is kneeling in front of Penelope, and at first, I think that he's finally confessing his feelings for her. My first intention is to silently back away and let them have their moment. His hands are on her knees and she isn’t insulting him, so nothing about this interaction could be bad, right? But then I notice that she's crying, and my heart drops. I don’t back away.

My hand slips off the doorknob and it slams shut, making me flinch on impact. The two stare up at me like deer caught in headlights. I see this expression way too much for my liking nowadays. And judging by the sheer fact that there are still tears dripping down Penelope's cheeks, this isn't good. Nothing is ever good anymore.

"What happened?" I don't step closer, I don't grab Penelope's hand, I don't touch Luke's shoulder. My heart is pounding against my chest and my hands are starting to shake.

Luke glances at Penelope before rising to his feet. "Garcia went to see Reid today."

"I know," I snap faster than I intended to. "What happened to him? Is he okay? What--" my voice betrays me and I can't choke out another question.

Luke sucks in a breath, keeping a stony, emotionless face. "He got beat up."

"Beat up?" I regurgitate the disgusting words that have just been spewed at me, backing myself against the wall. "He got--"

Penelope stands up and moves towards me, lacking her normal finesse. "His face had bruises and he seemed agitated but he seemed fine otherwise--"

"He's not fine if he got beat up," My anger, somehow, quickly dissipates and turns to heartache. My heart pounds against my chest at an alarming rate. My eyes flood with tears and my knees start to give out from under me, and I go sliding to the ground, curling into myself. "He's trapped inside with the people who beat him up and there's nothing he can do."

"Listen," Luke kneels in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder, but I can't bring myself to shake it off or even look up at him, "I'm gonna get an extra set of eyes on Reid. He's mentioned something about another inmate that sounds like an ex-FBI agent, and I think I know how I can get him to protect Reid. Amelia, he's gonna be okay. I'm gonna go to the prison right now and figure this all out. You call me if you need anything at all."

Luke stands again and smiles at Penelope, quickly leaving the room. And once he's gone, Penelope takes his place on the floor beside me, sitting with her legs straight out. She's silent, but I'm not sure why. Is she giving me space? Is she waiting for me to speak? Is she figuring out what to say? Is she too scared to say anything? I wouldn't blame her if she was. I'm not the person I was anymore.

I reach into my pocket and pull out Spencer's medallion, passing it between my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whisper, keeping my gaze on the metal circle. "I haven't exactly been a best friend lately, or a friend at all. I've just been a bitch."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Penelope insists, scooting closer to me. "This is a really hard time for you. It's understandable. I don't expect you to want to be listening to my guy problems or wanting to drink wine. I mean, I don't even want to be doing either of those things. It seems too...cheerful for right now."

My lips quiver and I try to hold back my tears, but no matter how hard I squeeze the medallion, my tears won’t retreat and my pain doesn’t disappear. "I just really miss him, and I'm really worried about him."

"We all are," Penelope sighs, patting my leg. "But we're working as hard as we can to get him out."

"I know you are," I flip the medallion over and stare down at the compass. "I just hope he comes home soon because I don't know how much longer I'll last without him."

///

The snapping of my pencil against paper shakes me back to reality, and my head pops up. I find that I've been jamming my pencil into my sketchbook, creating a hole in the paper that has effectively ruined my drawing and maybe even ruined my entire sketchbook.

A groan leaves my lips and I drop my sketchbook to the floor, my pencil following. I shouldn't be upset. Whatever it was I was drawing was horrible anyway. I haven't drawn anything good since Spencer got arrested. My art revolves around joy and happiness and the good things in my life and if I don't have any of that, how am I expected to make art?

"Hey," Jenna comes and sits beside me, placing a cup of tea on the coffee table. I don't touch it. She never makes it as good as Spencer. She picks up the sketchbook and lets out a sigh. "It's a shame there's a hole in it now. I liked what you were drawing."

"It was bad," I respond, letting my head fall onto her shoulder. "Nothing in there was any good."

"I disagree," Jenna drops the book and slings her arm around my shoulder, drawing me into her embrace. She’s not nearly as warm as Spencer. "Sometimes, our best work comes from dark places. You know, like comedians. A lot of comedians have depression and--"

"Jen, I appreciate it but I'm not in the mood for this," I murmur, eyelids feeling heavy. I rest my head on her lap and stare up at her, resisting the urge to purr as she starts to brush her fingers through my hair, but it's nothing like the way Spencer does it. Spencer, somehow, doesn't let his fingers get caught in my curls and he doesn't tug on knots. His hands are big and veiny and strong and not dainty and tiny like Jenna's.

"I'm sorry," Jenna apologizes with a heavy sigh.

"No, I'm sorry," I catch her hand in mine and intertwine our fingers, squeezing tightly. "I've been horrible lately. I've just-- what I'm going through with Spencer is no reason to be acting like a bad friend to you. You've been so generous and so helpful and so--"

"Hey, listen," Jenna cuts me off with her sweet smile, "when everything with Spencer is resolved and he's settled at home with his mom and with you, then you can take me out and throw me a Jenna appreciation party. But for right now, don't worry about me. Just worry about you and staying healthy and trying to stay happy, and focus your energy on your happy memories with Spencer."

"You're the best, have I ever told you that?"

"Hey!" Jenna exclaims. "Save it for the appreciation party."

I smile back up at my best friend, nodding slowly. "Okay, yeah, I can do that. Once I get my shit together, I'll throw you an amazing party."

"And I look forward to it," Jenna quips, and then looks at the time. "Okay, I've gotta get to a meeting but you're welcome to stay here if you want. My apartment is all yours."

"No, I think I'm gonna go home for a bit. Probably shower and then get to the BAU with fresh clothes. I feel all," I sit up, brushing my fingers over my cheeks and grimacing, "greasy and oily."

Jenna returns my ruined sketchbook and ushers me out the door, watching me get into my car to make sure I get there safely. I wave goodbye to her before driving off, not even bothering to turn on the radio. I never do anymore.

Trudging up to my door, I unlock it and toss my keys aside, throwing my bag down on the floor and kneeling down to take off my shoes. I pull out my hair tie and drop it to the floor, then leave a trail of clothes to the kitchen. First my denim jacket, then my socks, then my crop top. I'm left in my bra and sweatpants in the middle of the kitchen, reaching into the fridge for something to eat. It’s nearly empty. Of course it is. I haven’t had the energy to go shopping lately.

I reach my hand out but I pause and scrunch up my nose at a strong scent. Why does it smell like bubblegum in here? Again. I don’t even like the scent or taste of bubblegum, and I obviously didn’t buy any gum recently. I roll my eyes, wandering over to the window to open it further and let out the smell. I breathe in a bit of the fresh air and sigh, stepping away and going back to my original plan of getting something to eat. Maybe the older woman next door has a bubblegum candle that she likes to light whenever I’m home.

But the smell is persistent and it's filling my lungs and my brain and my tongue. I start to walk towards the window again but my feet don't let me. It's like there's someone telling me not to go and breath in the fresh air outside, and so, I don't. I stand in the middle of my kitchen like a floundering fish, gripping the island with white knuckles. My head feels fuzzy. My eyes feel like they should be rolling into my skull. It’s that familiar feeling of not having control over myself. That sickly familiar feeling of someone standing right behind me, whispering in my ear and telling me what to do.

But then I feel the urge to shut the window completely, so I do. I rush over and slam it closed with so much force that I think I might break the glass. But I'm confused. I'm so confused. The bubblegum smell is nauseating so why am I closing the window? What is telling me to close the window? Who is telling me to close the window?

I feel my feet walking over to the couch and I lay down. My eyelids feel heavy and I don't stop myself when I feel an intense need to lay down and close my eyes, to rest. I curl up and drift off comfortably, into the best sleep I've gotten since I had the privilege of sleeping in a bed with Spencer.

When I finally wake again, my head is pounding. I whine out loud, curling my knees into my chest and tossing my arm over my eyes, trying to block out the lights above me. But nothing works so I roll off the couch, falling onto my knees in a pathetic heap. I lift my head, finding an empty bottle of white wine on the coffee table. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. I didn’t drink wine today. The bottle is empty but I didn’t drink. I mean, I feel hungover but I know I didn’t drink. The smell of bubblegum is gone.

I reach around for my phone, but after groping the couch and the coffee table, I come up empty. I conclude that I've left it in my backpack which I dropped beside the door. I grind my teeth as my muscles pop when I stand and walk over to the foyer, rubbing my eyes and letting out a dramatically loud yawn. When I get to the foyer, I find that my backpack is nowhere in sight. That's odd. I could have sworn that I left it here when I got home from Jenna's apartment, but I guess in my blackout, I moved it.

I turn on my heel to head back to the kitchen, and the first thing I notice is that it's not morning anymore. It's dark out. My head whips towards the clock and I find that it's almost midnight. I must have gotten drunk. I must have finished that whole bottle myself and the alcohol made me forget. I drank the entire day away, somehow. That's not like me. That's never happened before. I drink wine all the time, I know I can hold my wine. How did one single bottle of wine do this to me?

Shaking my head at myself and pushing away my pathetic tears, I move on to my kitchen. Surely enough, the contents of my backpack are strewn across the island and my phone is right there. What I need it for? I'm not sure. But despite the fact that I've just woken up, I'm exhausted. So with my phone in my hand, half dressed, belly button ring falling out, hair tangled, head pounding, and my brain swirling, I drag myself up the stairs and collapse into bed.

The sheets smell like him. They always do. They always will. The pillow he claimed as his own will always be stained with the scent of his cologne, and no matter the amount of times I wash it, it was always smell like him. I roll over and hug his pillow to my chest, and this time, I don't stop the dam from breaking. I let the tears flow down my cheeks relentlessly and I let the sobs rack my body and I let myself succumb to the depression I've barely been fighting off.

But I don't let my mind succumb too much, not to the bad thoughts that are hounding me. I stumble off the bed and into my bedside table, pulling out my journal and holding it in my lap. My pen moves faster than my mind does and before I know it, I'm signing my name at the end. I don't even proofread it. I don't check for spelling or grammar errors or try to dry the tear stains or fix any pen smudges. I just rip out the pages, fold them up, put on some clothes, and jump in my car.

The doors the the sixth floor open as I fiddle with my visitors pass on my hip. I see Stephen first and he smiles at me, stepping out of the way and gesturing me for me to go past. I thank him softly and go tiptoeing by, pulling open the bullpen door and stepping in. JJ and Tara are talking with Anderson and Kevin by the coffee machine and I send them a wave, but I don't go over to talk. I haven't been in the mood for small talk lately. And besides, it’s midnight. Everyone is here incredibly late to work and small talk would distract them from their obvious mountain of work. They don’t need the extra worry of me showing up hungover and confused. I keep my head down to avoid everyone.

I pass Emily and get to Dave's door, knocking much softer than I have in the past. He calls for me to enter, and when I do, I give him one of the fake smiles I've become so accustomed to lately. "Hi," I state gently.

"Hi," he gestures for me to sit, and when I do, he closes to door. "Are you okay?"

"I am," I nod quickly, probably way too quickly, and bring my backpack into my lap, digging through the contents. "I saw that--"

"Are you drunk?" He interrupts me, narrowing his eyes at me as he takes a seat again.

I fiend surprise, shaking my head. "No! Of course not! Why would you--"

"Your eyes are bloodshot and you're not speaking properly, you're slurring your words," Dave points out bluntly.

I don't move my gaze from his as my hands finally land on what I was searching for, and I pull it out, holding it to him. "I saw on Garcia's board that you're the next to visit Spencer. Could you bring that to him? It's just a letter."

Dave takes the envelope from my hand and admires the calligraphy on the front, the same I always use to label Spencer's sketchbooks. He nods and tucks it into his jacket pocket. "I'll bring it. The prison checks everything and--"

"If they confiscate it, I don't wanna know," I tell him, standing and putting my backpack on again, heading towards his office door. "Just-- everything I have to say is in that letter. I've gotten it out and even if he doesn't get to read it," I shrug my shoulders up to my ears and laugh pitifully, "whatever. I just hope he's safe now."

I go home. I leave with my head down and tears in my eyes. Dave is going to think I’m a crazy drunk who can’t control herself. The reality is, I don’t even know what happened today. I’m just confused and sad. I’m missing Spencer, I hate the smell of bubblegum, and I can’t do my job anymore. Everything is fucking horrible. Everything has gone to shit.

Like clockwork, I bring myself to the BAU the next morning. Freshly showered and in presentable clothes, looking better than I have in months. An obvious overcompensation for what Dave said to me yesterday. I need to show him somehow that I’m okay. Well, I’m not okay but I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I should have practiced my fake smile in the elevator.

"Hey, you," Penelope smiles softly as I walk into her lair, dropping my backpack on the empty desk. "Feeling okay?"

"Meh," I shrug, sitting down in a free chair and drawing my knees to my chest. "I'm trying to keep my spirits up. It's hard, you know? It keeps getting longer and longer since I've seen him and the longer it gets, the harder it gets. I’m trying to keep it together. It’s hard, P."

"I think I may be able to help with that," Dave's voice at the door makes the both of us jump. Neither of us had even realized he had come in right behind me. But I jump to my feet and smooth down my skirt, adjusting my nose ring so it’s perfect and brushing my straightened hair behind my ears.

"Help with that?" Penelope repeats, glancing between us. "Help with that how?"

Dave reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the envelope for the letter I'd written for Spencer, and my heart drops to my feet. Why was I thinking? What made me think he would be able to bring my letter in? He's in a maximum-security prison. Spencer can barely take a shower without prison guard eyes on him. He's not going to be able to get a letter from a visitor without it being checked and rejected first.

"I told you I didn't wanna know if he could see it," I whisper, looking down at my lap and hating the way my eyes instantly burn with tears. I’ve cried too much lately. "You should've just thrown it out. I don't want it back, just--"

He drops the envelope onto my lap to shut me up, but now, it's unfolded and there's writing on the inside. My body jerks ungracefully when I recognize Spencer's handwriting and I snatch it up to read what he's written for me.

To my pretty girl,

The Good Doctor sounds like a great show, and even though you've basically spoiled the whole show for me, I'd love to rewatch it with you. Medical dramas tend to be incorrect with their facts so I'd like to see how much of the show is accurate. And no, I will not watch Lucifer with you. But I will absolutely watch Star Trek and Doctor Who with you. It would be my pleasure to explain them to you.

I think of you every single day. You are the reason I'm pushing through and you are the reason I'm still alive. You are the reason I get out of bed and you are the reason I'm sane at all. You're still my north. Don't forget that. I’m going to come home to you.

Like you said, words cannot describe how intensely and how badly I miss you. Things are hard right now but I promise that I'll see you soon and I promise that everything will be okay.

Listen to some Brahms or Mozart for me. I love you so much.

With all the love I have left to give,

Your Dove

ps. There are no razors here and I haven't shaved in months. Enjoy.

pps. Thank you for distracting me. It worked wonders. You're truly amazing.

I read his letter over and over and over. I examine every single word on the page and I barely even notice when my tears start to fall on the paper. His writing is messy, it always has been, but it's so beautiful. Maybe I think it's so extraordinarily beautiful because I know he touched this piece of paper and now I'm touching it. It's from his heart. It's from him. It's from my Spencer.

"Penny," I whimper out, and she is at my side in a second, placing her hand on my shoulder. "He—” I sniffle and hiccup, “he promised."

"He promised?" She echoes, her voice sounding hopeful but like she's talking to a child. "What did he promise?"

"He promised that everything is gonna be okay," I clutch the paper in my hand, admiring its beauty and counting the strokes that Spencer made with the pen. "And he told me again that I'm his north and-- that's good, right? He's still there, you know, mentally."

Penelope nods at me, reaching down to wipe my tears. "Yeah, Amelia, that's really good that he said those things."

I drop the letter to the floor and throw my arms around Dave, crying into his shoulder. "Thank you so much. Thank you for doing this for me."

He hugs me back tightly. "Anything to see you and the kid happy. Anything for you two."

TAGLIST

@babybloodstonebones @bxnnywriting @blameitonthenight21 @feralreid @anepiphany @reidscardigan @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @stxrrywildflower @penemily @whollytaciturn @thegingerfairchild @yasminwashere @shrimpyblog @anamelessfacelessnerd @wonderlandhatter @whxt-to-write @inkandexchange @just-call-me-non

#nikos north fic #spencer reid #dr reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction

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bnhasimpgirltm · 4 years

Text

Meet Me in the Stars (Bakugo x Reader)

Pairings: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

Warnings: Character Death, Blood, Knife, swearing

Genre: angst, a tad bit of fluff if you put this oneshot under a microscope

Word Count: 2221

Type: oneshot

A/N: I feel like this isn’t as good as my other A N G S T, but I think I wrote Bakugo decently in character for him turning villain. Unedited because I got so excited. I’ll probably edit it after I post. As always, enjoy!

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

Katsuki had been missing for months.

You two had been fighting a group of villians, and not realizing how many of them there were, you two had gone in opposite directions in an attempt to divert them. He told you not to come to save him if things went south, and stupidly, you agreed because you thought that he would be okay.

You didn’t even know anything was wrong until you saw the large explosion cloud rising over the city. You waited to see if another one would rise, signaling that Katsuki was fighting off the villians, but it never came. The air calmed around you and everything was quiet, but you were anything but calm.

Did they kidnap him again? Or worse, was Katsuki dead? Tears came to your eyes as you thought about your life without your explosive boyfriend.

No. He’s strong. He’ll come back to us. I know it. We’ll be back at our apartment tonight laughing over how dumb the villians are and watching a movie while eating soba.

Trusting Katsuki’s abilities, you went back to the agency and hoped that you would see him there when you came back. As you searched for his blonde head in the crowd, you got increasingly worried.

“(Y/N)!” You heard. You turned towards the voice and saw Midoriya pushing through the crowd of heroes and towards you.

“Midoriya!” You call back. “Do you know where Katsuki is?”

He’s silent and avoids your eyes.

“Midoriya! Where is Katsuki!” You grab his shoulders and shake him. “Did he come back?”

“(Y/N), Kacchan isn’t here,” he says and then shakes his head.

“No!” You yell. “Stop lying to me!”

“We’ll find him. I promise you,” Midoriya hugs you.

“We better,” you say.

You and Midoriya dedicated all of your time to trying to find Katsuki, and went back to where his explosion was last seen to see if anything was missed.

It was like he was never there.

The search continued and every hero gave their condolences, but life had moved on without Katsuki, and you had been forced to move on with it.

As less and less resources were dedicated to helping find the number two hero, you worked harder than ever, wanting nothing more than to bring your Katsuki back.

After a month and a half of searching, they declared him deceased and completely stopped looking for him.

You had begged them to keep searching, but they refused saying it was a waste of time and resources looking for a dead hero. You were about to give up too, exhausted and lost.

Until today.

It was like any other night for the past months without Katsuki. The apartment was too quiet and the sweet nitrogycerin smell that usually wafted through was gone. You microwaved the leftovers of your lunch and started to eat dinner alone. Ashido, Kaminari, and Kirishima had asked you if you wanted to go eat with them, but you declined politely, saying that you didn’t feel up to it today.

You hadn’t felt up to anything since Katsuki went missing. Midoriya and Momo said you needed to get out again, constantly texting you and checking up on you and trying to get you to leave your apartment for something other than work or grocery shopping in your sweatpants and t-shirt.

You hear the door creak open and you assumed it was Kirishima again. He often dropped by after the Bakusquad had ate to give you some leftover food.

“Just put it on the coffee table Kirishima,” you tiredly say. “Thanks for bringing food by again.”

You drop your plate in the sink and get up to talk to Kirishima. Then you smell it.

Sweet and warm.

Katsuki? No that’s impossble. It can’t be.

“I’m not Weird Hair,” the voice says.

But it was.

“Katsuki?” Disbelief plagues your voice.

He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and is unscathed aside from the bandage that covers part of his arm.

“Where were you?” Stepping towards him so you could get a closer look at him, your hero training kicks in and you realize that he has something holstered at his hip.

A gun? No, it’s too skinny.

“I was captured again,” he whispers.

“I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry,” you look at him and silently start to cry.

“Don’t be,” he snaps at you.

“How can I not be sorry when I caused you so much pain?” You ask him.

“They didn’t even touch me,” he says.

“W-what? How?” You questioned.

“Well, now is the time to ask what I was going to ask,” he grabs your hand and looks at you with those red eyes that you loved so much.

Katsuki, now isn’t the time to ask me to marry you! You aggressively think.

“Come with me and join the League of Villains,” he says.

A shocked look takes over your face and you’re speechless.

“What? Katsuki, you’re joking right?” You plead, hoping that it wasn’t true. “They’re villains! Bad guys!”

“Villains is a very subjective word! Why the hell are they villains? Is it because they don’t have the same beliefs as these fame hungry people we call heroes?” He scoffs.

“How could you do this? You wanted to save people and be a good hero!” You cry out.

“And I am. I wanted to be a hero because it aligned with my goals. They used to want to save people! Now they don’t care!” Katsuki yells in anger. “Come with me, because I know that you want to save people too!”

“Katsuki I can’t just join the League of Villains! I’ve wanted to be a hero for so long and that dream came true. You want me to give up my dream so I can join an illegal villain organization?” You’re angry at him now too.

“We don’t have to be the villains anymore,” he says, reffering to the League.

“We? Katsuki you’re so far down this hole of righteousness that you can’t take your head out of your ass to see how awful the League is! They kill people!” You grab the sleeve of his t-shirt and look him in the eye. “You’re okay with that? That they kill to get what they want?”

“They’re just moving toward a goal,” he says. “I did awful things to get to where I am too! How am I any different?” He shrugs you off of his arm.

“You never killed anyone!” You angrily say.

“Are you sure about that?” Katsuki looks down in shame.

“Who?” You yell. “Who was it?”

“Raccoon Eyes,Tape Face, Weird Hair, Dunce Face.” He quietly admits. “They were in the way. All of them were coming to the apartment and they were in the way.”

No. Your friends. His friends. Dead. All of them.

“Oh my gosh.” You start to cry. “It’s not too late Katsuki. You can still escape this and be a real hero,” you try to convince him. “We can tell the cops that the League made you do it!”

“What if I don’t want to escape?” He slams his hand on your living room table. “This is exactly, what I want!”

“No it isn’t, and I love you too much to let you throw away your life like this.” Silently, you wrap your arms around him and naturally, he leans into your embrace, then he tenses up and shifts. You shrug it off at first, blaming it on nerves, and then you feel a sharp, stabbing pain on your upper abdomen.

Katsuki pulls back and repeatedly says “I’m sorry.”

You realize that you were stabbed. By the man that you loved more than anything in the world. By the man that is your world. The knife that he plunged into your flesh was stained dark red by your blood.

So it was a knife. You bitterly thought. How fitting, that the person who took my life is the one who I trusted most with it.

Suddenly, your legs felt weak and you started to fall towards the ground. Katsuki caught you and cradled you against him.

“I had to do it, I’m sorry,” He sobs and holds your weak form close to him.

“I still love you,” You weakly say, and it breaks him.

How could you still love him? He had stabbed you! He didn’t ask you however, he just voiced how he felt back.

“I love you too,” he says. “I love you and I had to take you from this awful world because it doesn’t deserve someone like you to save it.”

“I hate that I have to go so soon,” you stop and take a breath. “I hate that I’m going to die knowing that you’re throwing away everything you worked for.”

“I’m not throwing it away. I’m just going on a different path to get to the same goal,” he explains.

“I always loved that about you. You do anything it takes to reach a goal.” It needed to be said, but you felt your energy deplete and run out of your body faster than ever. You knew that the end is near.

Closing your eyes, you smile, because you don’t fear death. You don’t fear the next adventure that is to come, even if it won’t be on this Earth.

Katsuki holds your hand as you take your last breath, and sees your closed eyes and smile. He knows that you are braver than he will ever be, and cradles you against his chest, watching as you leave him behind.

Then, everything is over.

For a moment, Katsuki’s world stops spinning, and he wants you to come back and jump into his arms. He wants to be with you for the rest of his life, but it’s too late. What’s done is done, and the only thing he can do is gently lay your lifeless body on the tile of your kitchen and wash his knife in your sink.

As he watches the vermillion red of your blood wash down the sink, he’s reminded of how you always told him how much you loved the color of his eyes, and he breaks down all over again.

You were a real hero, and nobody deserved you, not even him.

Katsuki walks out of the room, making sure to avoid looking at your body, and leaves the apartment, locking it up behind him. He knew that someone would find you eventually, but he would be long gone once that happened.

Leaving the complex, he realizes that it’s around 1 AM, and the stars are still high in the sky.

You had always talked about how once you died you would live among the stars, watching down at Earth and laughing at the stupidity of the humans that were living. He always laughed when you said this, thinking that it was ridiculous to think that the dead lived among the stars, but right now, he hoped to God that it was true.

Stopping at the gate, Katsuki turned around and sat on the grass in front of the apartment complex. It was cool and soft, and when he laid his head down on it he remembered when you two went stargazing in the bed of his truck.

And that’s Cassiopeia, “The Queen”, just like me! You had joked. He wished that you were here with him now, watching the stars and in his arms.

As Katsuki laid in the plush grass, he knew that one day, he would join you in the stars and see you again. He knew that everything horrible he did in his life would all be worth it, because he didn’t know when it was going to happen, but he would someday rise up and be taken up to the stars, just like you had said.

Katsuki looked up at the Cassiopeia constellation and framed it with his fingers. He imagined you up there, sitting on the “L” shape, and for the first time in months, he smiled. A real, genuine smile.

This world was so awful and evil, with so many disgusting people that you had worked until the end to save everyone from.

He owed it to you. He was going to make the world a better place. The place that you had wanted to create when you had become a hero.

Bakugo Katsuki had a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it.

But the world and all of its inevitable evil could wait.

For now, he would watch the stars, just like you had, and hope that when he saw you again, whenever that was, you would find it in yourself to forgive him for everything he did.

He hoped that you would forgive him, because once you did, he would finally be able to forgive himself.

And so it goes, Bakugo Katsuki looking up and watching the stars, pressing pause on his life for just this short moment. He imagined you smiling down at him, and smiled back. Katsuki knew that until he came back to the sky, you would watch him succeed in doing what you always wanted.

And the knowledge that you would always be with him as long as the stars were there was enough to finally put his restless soul at peace.

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fruiitycas · 3 years

Note

Hello, I would love to know about the dtscu; can you please enlighten me? ❤️️

oh of course i love spreading the good word of our lord taylor swift. the dtscu refers to the “destiel taylor swift cinematic universe” and is a collection of songs that ms swift has written that I think directly apply to destiel (its okay ms swift i saw your lyrics you can come out as a destiel shipper). i also tag destiel edits that use taylor swift songs/lyrics to make a whole collection of works that ppl have made that combine t swift w destiel.

this is the link to the playlist with all the destiel songs in my dtscu. (more details under the cut)

some notable additions to the playlist:

dont blame me (Echoes, love your name inside my mind / Halo, hiding my obsession // baby, for you, I would fall from grace / Just to touch your face // Don't blame me, love made me crazy / If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right / Lord, save me, my drug is my baby / I’d be usin' for the rest of my life)

peace (And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences / Sit with you in the trenches / Give you my wild, give you a child / Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other / Family that I chose now that I see your brother as my brother / Is it enough? / ‘Cause there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west / I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best / But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me / But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm / If your cascade ocean wave blues come / All these people think love's for show / But I would die for you in secret / The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me / Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?)

false god (Remember how I said I'd die for you? // They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith // But we might just get away with it / Religion's in your lips / Even if it's a false god / We'd still worship / We might just get away with it / The altar is my hips / Even if it's a false god / We'd still worship this love)

sparks fly

safe and sound

ivy (How's one to know? / I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones In a faith forgotten land / In from the snow / Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow Tarnished but so grand // Oh, goddamn / My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand / Taking mine, but it's been promised to another / Oh, I can't / Stop you putting roots in my dreamland / My house of stone, your ivy grows / And now I'm covered in you // How's one to know? / I’d live and die for moments that we stole / On begged and borrowed time // it's a war / It's the goddamn fight of my life / And you started it / You started it)

this love (In silent screams / In wildest dreams / I never dreamed of this // This love is good / This love is bad / This love is alive back from the dead / These hands had to let it go free, and This love came back to me / This love left a permanent mark / This love is glowing in the dark / These hands had to let it go free, and This love came back to me)

cowboy like me (You're a bandit like me / Eyes full of stars / Hustling for the good life / Never thought I'd meet you here / It could be love / We could be the way forward / And I know I'll pay for it / And the skeletons in both our closets / Plotted hard to mess this up // Now you hang from my lips Like the Gardens of Babylon / With your boots beneath my bed / Forever is the sweetest con / I’ve had some tricks up my sleeve / Takes one to know one / You're a cowboy like me / And I'm never gonna love again / I’m never gonna love again)

there are also notable subsections:

The Divorce Arc:

i wish you would (I wish you would come back / Wish I'd never hung up the phone like I did / I wish you knew that / I’d never forget you as long as I'd live / And I wish you were right here, right now It's all good / I wish you would / I wish we could go back / And remember what we were fighting for / Wish you knew that / I miss you too much to be mad anymore)

my tears ricochet (I didn't have it in myself to go with grace / ‘Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave / And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? / Cursing my name, wishing I stayed / Look at how my tears ricochet / And I can go anywhere I want / Anywhere I want, just not home / And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones / And I still talk to you when I'm screaming at the sky)

i almost do (And I just wanna tell you / It takes everything in me, not to call you / And I wish I could run to you / And I hope / you know that every time I don't / I almost do)

all you had to do was stay

death by a thousand cuts

story of us (This is looking like a contest / Of who can act like they care less / But I liked it better when you were on my side // Now I'm standing alone in a crowded room / And we're not speaking / And I'm dying to know / Is it killing you like it's killing me? // And the story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now)

the other side of the door (tell me why you couldn't see That when I left I wanted you to chase after me? / I said leave but all I really want is you / To stand outside my window, throwing pebbles, screaming I'm in love with you / Wait there in the pourin' rain, come back for more / And don't you leave 'cause I know all I need is on The other side of the door)

come back…be here (this is when the feeling sinks in, I dont wanna miss you like this / Come back… be here)

The Widower arc/ Post 15x18:

haunted ( I know, I just know You're not gone, you can't be gone, no // Come on, come on, don't leave me like this / I thought I had you figured out / Can't breathe whenever you're gone / Can't go back, I'm haunted / You and I walk a fragile line / I have known it all this time)

marjorie (What died didn't stay dead / You're alive, you're alive in my head / What died didn't stay dead // You're alive, so alive // If I didn't know better / I’d think you were still around / I know better / But I still feel you all around / I know better / But you're still around)

Cas to Dean:

tied together with a smile (no one knows / That you cry; but you don't tell anyone / That you might not be the golden one / And you're tied together with a smile / But you're coming undone // I guess it's true that love was all you wanted / ‘Cause you're givin' it away like it's extra change / Hoping it will end up in his pocket)

innocent (Wasn't it beautiful when you believed in everything / And everybody believed in you? / It's alright, just wait and see / Your string of lights is still bright to me / Oh, who you are is not where you've been / You're still an innocent // Did some things you can't speak of / But at night you live it all again)

enchanted (This is me praying that this was the very first page / Not where the story line ends / My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again / These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon/ I was enchanted to meet you)

everything has changed (all ive seen since 18 hrs ago is green eyes and freckles and your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like i just wanna know you better now)

mirrorball(Hush / I know they said the end is near / But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes / Spinning in my highest heels, love / Shining just for you // I'm still a believer but I don't know why / I've never been a natural / All I do is try, try, try / I’m still on that trapeze / I’m still trying everything / To keep you looking at me )

Dean to Cas:

untouchable (I know you're saying / That you'd be here / But you're Untouchable / burning Brighter than the sun / Now that you're close / I feel like coming undone)

mine (You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded / You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes // Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? / You put your arm around me, for the first time / You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter / You are the best thing, that's ever been mine )

state of grace (So you were never a saint / And I've loved in shades of wrong / We learn to live with the pain / Mosaic broken hearts / But this love is brave and wild / And I never saw you coming / And I'll never be the same)

this is me trying (This is very specifically The Trap!Dean) (Pulled the car off the road to the lookout / Could've followed my fears all the way down / And maybe I don't quite know what to say / But I'm here in your doorway / I just wanted you to know / That this is me trying / I just wanted you to know / That this is me trying / They told me all of my cages were mental / So I got wasted like all my potential / And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad / I have a lot of regrets about that)

the archer (Combat, I'm ready for combat / I say I don't want that, but what if I do? / ‘Cause cruelty wins in the movies / I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you // And all of my heroes die all alone / Help me hold onto you / I've been the archer / I’ve been the prey / Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? / But who could stay? // Who could stay? / You could stay)

#ask #theirprofoundbond #dtscu #destiel

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pcprminibigbang · 3 years

Text

PCPR Mini Big Bang Fic Claiming Time!

Today’s the daaaaay!

Under the cut, you will find the summaries of the fanfics our Writers have been working on. They have been posted anonymously, labeled only by number.

Artists, go through the summaries carefully and figure out which ones you’d like to work on the most! Please pick three choices and then hop on over to your email to send your fic claiming email to [email protected]! If you are confused as to how this process goes, please check your email inbox for emails Mod has sent concerning the full details on how to claim a fic.

For those not participating in this event, please feel free to read through the summaries as well to get a sneak peek of what our Writers have been working on!

Okay, that’s enough talking from Mod. Here are this event’s fics!!!

FIC #1 : CLAIMED!!!

He shuffles to the door, reaching for his gun just in case before he pulls it open, startling the short man who was waiting on the other side.

"Goddammit, Burger!" Vang0 hisses, leaning a little closer, eyes darting to the sides. "Can I come in?" He asks bluntly, as if they had been talking just a couple minutes ago and this wasn't their first chat in about a week. We're not that codependent.

"Wh- why are you out this late? And with a bag?" He frowns when he sees the uncharacteristic plain green duffle bag hanging from Vang0's shoulder, completely contrasting with the man's clothes, even if this time he went for more subdued colors.

"Let me in and I'll tell you," the blonde retorts as he puts a foot in the corner, ready to push himself inside as soon as Burger gives him room for it.

And Burger can't say no, has never been able to say no to Vang0, so he just rolls to the side and lets Vang0 in before slamming the door closed again.

"Why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate ya visiting, just... it's late and yer carrying a bag," he points out, tilting his head a little. "Y’know you can talk to me, Vang0, right?"

"Y-yeah, that's why I'm here, I-" he pauses, taking a deep breath "I got in trouble, I hacked into something I shouldn't have and I need to lay low for a while"

Vang0 Bang0 messed up, big time, he needs help to get off the radar for a while, and of course that his best friend Burger Chainz would help him, and a road trip seems to be the best way to make him drop from the face of earth until things have quieted down. But the empty roads bring nostalgia and an unearths feelings both of them thought deeply buried. They say that road trips change you, why should that be different in the cyberpunk future?

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, getting together fic, Teen rating, no ao3 warnings needed, maybe some minor canon violence. It's a slightly introspective fic, more focused on how Burger realizes some stuff and how he deals with it.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #2 : CLAIMED!!!

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:15 PM …… did u just ping me to ask if i wore heals

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:16 PM *heels yes i did and do you?

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:17 PM not usually?? ill wear em if its like a big thing or w e i guess (Edited) i mean i havnet really had the oprotuntiy to wear em

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:19 PM are you intentionally misspelling words to make yourself seem cooler to me?? Vang0 I watched you lick a stranger’s nose

Vang0 doesn't remember his birthday. Or his age. Or his interests, his likes, his dislikes, the password to his CollegeBoard account.

(Well, one of those is less important than the others.)

That being said, Burger wants to throw him a birthday party. Dasha is interested, despite herself. A series of assumptions are made, some feelings are hurt, and some lessons are learned.

Ships: Vang0/Dasha/Burger if you squint but pretty much a gen fic

Rating: Probably G, bordering maybe on T for swearing

Sensitive content: Canon-typical amnesia, a little bit of angst, some oblique canon-typical gun mentions, maybe a panic attack later in the fic- I haven't quite decided if that's gonna happen or not yet?

Other info: It's a pretty lighthearted fic focusing on the relationship between the three of them! No AU, pretty much just comedy and fun all the way through. I haven't ironed out all the details of what's going to happen yet, but that's gonna stay pretty consistent- there'll be some angstier/less funny bits here and there, of course, though.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #3 : CLAIMED!!!

Vang0 chewed his lip, feeling uneasy.

“What’s up, friend? You’ve got a big ol’ frown on your face.”

Vang0 blushed. “I’m not- I’m just- thinking. I mean, Joltik usually travel with their mother Galvantula, and it’s unusual for them to be seen without one, so these ones might have been separated from their mother.”

Burger frowned. “Well, that ain’t good.”

Vang0 nodded. “And Galvantula can get very angry when separated from their young.”

Burger opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone yelling loudly.

“BURGER! Burger, where the fuck are you!?”

Vang0 watched as Burger spun around and started towards the basement door.

“Burger!? Are you down here? There’s a huge fucking-”

“No, don’t come down-”

Burger was cut off as the door flew open, and someone catapulted into the basement.

Vang0 stared, eyes wide.

“Burger,” he said, “why the hell is Dapper Dasha in your house?”

Seven months ago, Vang0 woke up in a half-destroyed laboratory with no memories of his life before that. He's made something of a life for himself fixing people's technology, because he somehow knows how to do that really well.

And Burger Chainz is just another one of his clients. That is, until it turns out Burger's hiding ex-Pokemon Contest star Dapper Dasha in his house - who hasn't been seen in two years and just so happens to be Vang0's role model.

Vang0 definitely isn't freaking the fuck out. And he definitely isn't falling in love with Burger, either.

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. A Pokémon AU where Burger owns a farm, Dasha is an ex-contest star in hiding, and Vang0 has no clue what's going on. Rating: Teen. Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, nothing explicit

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #4 : CLAIMED!!!

clink!

Vang0 Bang0 jumped in his seat as the van hit a bump in the road, speeding upon the old, graying highway. The trinkets they had collected over their various traveled crashed and banged, one almost hitting the window. The loud trinkets and music blaring from the car stereo didn’t phase Vang0. They weren’t sure where he was going, but it sure wasn’t home.

Vang0 wasn’t focused on the road, he was focused on something...else. It wasn’t the other cars; there weren’t any. Most people stayed in Night City, so the roads weren’t full a lot, he knew that. But this road doesn't have anything, anything that would ever prove that anyone had ever existed near here. Not even a bottle.

After an eventful drive, Vang0 Bang0 finds themself on a beach with no discernable exits. No stairs, no ladders, not even a boat. Confused, Vang0 comes to terms with what he’s found in Night City, and what they’ve lost along the way. (Also they/he pronoun Vang0 rights)

There are no ships in this fic. I am likely to rate it Teen and Up audiences, since while there is no explicit or intentionally upsetting content, it might get a little sad at times. I’m not 100% sure about the exact direction my fic is going to go, there might be a car crash (not to graphically described, Vang0 is not hurt very badly, since this is [spoilers] a dream or metaphor about Vang0 coming to terms with memory loss). And since it is a dream sequence with no clear exit, this may be an unreality situation.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only minor Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 5 : CLAIMED!!!

Upon Burger barging into Dasha’s bedroom and announcing that he got tick- stop screaming Vang0, it’s just me, got tickets to a film festival tonight, are you guys in, Vang0 informed him that they had “a job tonight, Burger, did you even check the zoogle calendar, we’ll go tomorrow or something,” and no, of course Burger hadn’t checked the calendar, that’s Dasha’s job, and sure we can get tickets for tomorrow too but the Winston Rider film is only showing tonight and I thought you guys might be interested -- “Winst- do you mean Winona Ryder?” -- and after about five minutes of schedule comparisons Dasha simply shoved Vang0 out of the bed and declared that she was going to the movie with Burger, Vang0 was finishing their job, and Burger was going to make her some coffee because “it’s too fucking early for this” even though personally, Burger thought 11:00am was a perfectly reasonable time to be awake -- he was probably missing something, or maybe Dasha had just been up late, Vang0 was definitely a blanket hog and Burger knew from experience that sharing a bed with them would be more likely to result in a semi-conscious tug of war than a decent night’s sleep -- so Vang0 got up to do their job and Burger went and made some coffee and Dasha relocated to the couch, where she downed the coffee and some eggs and promptly fell back asleep for another three hours.

Burger loved Dasha, of course he did, he loved spending time with her and he thought she was beautiful and the idea that they might be dating -- might have been dating for a while -- sat warm and comfortable in his chest, but, except, it just was that, he hadn’t realized that how they interacted might be how two people that were dating behaved, he was just hanging out with his friend, he did stuff like this with Vang0 all the ti- -- now wait, wait a second, now hang on just a second --

a.k.a. 5 times Burger missed the point +1 time he caught a clue

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, Rating: Teen, content warnings for implied violence, drinking, implied sexual content

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 6 : CLAIMED!!!

“What is this? What’s going on? Why am I dressed like I’m straight?” Vang0 hisses, gesturing to everything around him and the wrongness of it all.

“Seriously?” Candella rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “You couldn’t have scheduled your existential work breakdown until after our shift? You don’t see my lesbian ass complaining while I’m on the clock, do you?”

“I—What? Am I speaking another fucking language? You answered none of my questions!”

“Yeah because it’s 9am and the morning rush just ended so I do not have enough energy to indulge just,” Candella gestures at all of Vang0. “whatever is going on with you right now.”

“What’s going on with me right now is that I’ve found myself in a bougie caffeine establishment fever dream that just so happens to have the shittiest store playlist in the history of ever.” Vang0 says, bordering on manic as he looks up at the ancient speaker up in the corner of the shop. “Seriously, what is this terrible song?”

“Hey, Soul Sister by Train.” Candella still, amazingly, does not look alarmed or worried.

Or the one where Vang0 is a barista at Zero and One’s Cafe...except he’s not.

This isn’t his fucking job, this isn’t his fucking life, and it takes a quick look around the horrifyingly low tech coffee shop he’s in and the fact that he’s missing a USB port on his neck to be painfully aware that this isn’t his fucking universe. This is a 2010s over idealistic portrayal of adult mundanity that he and his friends are stuck in and Vang0 has to get them all out of this nightmare before he commits customer service acts of violence.

Bring it on, Coffee Shop AU. Bring. It. On

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. An absurd existential romantic comedy where the trio somehow get transported into a Coffee Shop AU against their wills. Rating: Teen. Content warnings for slight absurd horror and canon typical violence.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 7 : CLAIMED!!!

“That guy in my english class,” Dasha could hear through the speakers the distinct sound of combat boots stepping on cement. What was Vang0 doing outside at this time, alone? “The one I told you about! Burger-” “The one you’ve been crushing on for months and you’re too much of a coward to ask out?” Dasha already knew everything about this guy, Vang0 saw him on the first day of senior year in his english class and he hadn’t shut up about him ever since. 5’10, large and muscular shoulders, nice to everyone and just dense enough that everytime he said something you would automatically think “wow… thank fuck you’re attractive,” but not in an irritating way, you know? Vang0 exhaled, which Dasha interpreted as a yes. “Well I couldn’t ask him out even if i wanted to,” “Huh?” Dasha could hear the cogs in her own brain turning, trying to process what was being said to her. “Because he’s dating a blonde g-” she heard Vang0 stop on his steps and his tone becoming more dry, “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Dasha yawned audibly and tried sitting up again. This time she succeeded, “yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. How did you find out about this and why did you decide to call me at nearly 2 am instead of just waiting until tomorrow?” “I followed them and I saw them talking.” “You’ve lost it.” - Dasha received a call from Vang0 at 1:47 am one saturday night, and everything went downhill from there. They were not friends, she couldn’t understand why Vang0 acted like they were, but they weren’t, because Dasha didn’t have any friends. Except that, when she sees Vang0 struggling, for the first time in 18 years of life she decides that maybe this one idiot is worth getting soft over. And so she helps him bleach his hair over a cup of coffee and a can of Spunky Monkey. Because why the fuck not. - Main pairing is platonic Vang0/Dasha, background ship is Vang0/Burger. The whole story is from Dasha’s POV. Genre is just a very typical teen romance story except that it’s focused more on platonic bonding rather than the actual romance. Vang0 calls Dasha late at night, tells her he wants to bleach his long dark curly hair and cut his bangs after seeing Burger with a blonde girl, and he goes to her place. She helps him do the deed in her bathroom (she’s still elite) as they realize how much they care about each other. Initially inspired by that one scene in Scott Pilgrim where Knives Chau dyes her hair. Rating: general audiences, content warnings: lots of swearing, implied addiction/addiction enabling, shoplifting mention. CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 8 : CLAIMED!!!

vang0 officially disappears on march 23rd, 2040. exact time unknown, but whatever conspires that morning takes place before burger wakes up.

if he’s being honest with himself; he’s seen it coming for a little while now. vang0 isn’t the routine type, he’s young and whip smart and drinks so much redbull that the stuff must pump through his veins.

burger’s an old dog. older than vang0 by at least 2 years, he’s sure. he doesn’t have much, and god doesn’t that sound cliche, but he’s stupid and optimistic- and really. he must’ve known somewhere that the kid wouldn’t stay. he’s got a nasty drug habit that burger cant support and a look in his eyes like he wants the world- burger cant even buy him a fake ID.

this happens sometimes, the coming and going. vang0’ll disappear for a week if he’s lucky, a month if he’s not, but never longer than that.

no use crying over spilled milk.

vang0 goes missing, burger velmently pretends nothing is wrong until he doesnt, and dasha has to pick up the pieces.

missing person fic, burger/dasha/vang0 implied, but nothing explicitly mentioned or talked about, drug use mentioned, mature, canon typical violence, kidnapping, and other canon typical shit- it is night city after all lmao, kind of introspective, alot of burger just thinking back on his relationship w vang0 and shit, but there is some plot as well ig

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 9: CLAIMED!!!

“Anyway, dude, what’s up? Or did you just come over for a cola because you ran out of your own?”

“Oh, right,” Vang0 says. He is still thinking about the man, and Dasha, and Dasha and that man, and Dasha’s long fingers and Dasha’s hair falling over her face as she purses her lips and blows upwards, her breath scattering strands of brown hair around her sharp cheekbones. “Um, there was something on the forum, I think - I think there’s a thing. For us. Should we call Burger?”

“Oh, Burger’s here,” Dasha says. “Somewhere. Burger!” she yells.

“Burger - but he spent the night?” Vang0 says, brain processing too slow somehow.

Dasha doesn’t respond.

“Did you -”

“Have a threesome?” Dasha asks, in her usual blunt way. Her face is pretty expressionless, eyes severe under the liner and blinking less than a person should, but Vang0 knows her pretty well, he can see the corners of her mouth turning up. That means she thinks something is funny. “I don’t think so. Burg!” she calls over her shoulder. “Did we?”

When Vang0 sees a JumpTrash post about vandalism at a club down town, he figures it will be an easy job for the trio - find out who did it, have Burger intimidate them, done. But things are more complicated than they seem, and the gang ends up drawn into a complex scheme involving the Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss, conspiracies and hit men, and people from their past they thought were long gone. Along the way, they'll have to decide what they want out of this job - and what they want from each other....

This is basically an elaborate CAPER, with a bunch of feelings and shit thrown in. It's a job and then it's a crime story! Its kind of a noir? Can I write a noir? WE"LL FIND OUT. It's gonna be fairly long assuming I can get my act together and put in all i want to put in. Like every good story, it's got plot and whatnot but the plot is just a fulcrum around which to wrap some found family polyamory shit, baby. It's Vang0/Dasha/Burger, duh and it takes them a minute to get there but they'll get there! Its gonna have canon-typical violence, basically - none of the trio die or anything, but other people do, and there's blood. There's gonna be a sex scene because I'm not an AMATEUR. Drug use, too, but mostly in happy fun ways. I haven't fully sussed out some of the flashbacks, but probably some oblique references to past traumas, probably Vang0. Nothing explicit, no reliving events or anything. Also i'm 1000 years old, be warned!

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

#polygon #polygon cyberpunk red #pcpr

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001jsngprk · 3 years

Text

━♡ guess the 20 YEAR OLD MAY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because PARK JAE-SUNG is just as SUNNY as the month of MAY. wait, why do they remind me of LEE WOO-JIN ( TARGET ) ? beyond that, they seemed SPIRITED and PATIENT upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of HAREBRAINED and WISHY-WASHY though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX # 2 / APARTMENT # 5 / FLOOR # 3 ; HE seems to have a lot going on with HIS job as STUDENT. ( qiu, 18+, they/he/she, est. )

hello hello everyone !! i’m qiu and any pronouns are cool w me !!! this is my first krp (tbh first rp in a solid bit) so i might get confused here and there but the admins here are sososo helpful so hopefully nothing will throw me off too bad !! im happy to be here and my dms are always open !! though tbh i do prefer to use discord bc sometimes tumblr likes to commit crimes and eat messages </3 just hmu and ill give you it or add you!! if i dont reply to an im in like a day pls send an ask !!

i have an about pg that ill work on a little more but ill just write out a short little thing here to get the blog going !

! SUMMARY/TRIVIA ! [⤍ park jae-sung ● 20 yrs old ● uni student ]

- likes to be occupied ;; fully the type to be cooking a full course meal at four am just because he was studying and just needed to do anything else. also the type to let anyone in to eat it ! - non-native ;; from the u.s.! it’s actually his first year in korea ever so his korean can be odd-sounding a lot as even though it’s his native language, it’s not actually the one(english) he knows best !! when speaking in english, he has a southern accent - money-saver ;; buys things in sets exclusively to save money!! he’s more of the frugal type tbh when it comes to things other than bills !! if he recognizes you pls expect him to have random things on him that he’ll offer you like a grandpa offering his grandchild twenty dollars - skillfully independent ;; after living majority of his life mainly on his own, jae-sung can do housework fairly well as well as cook !! not super well, but it tastes better than worse most of the time !!! - hug-bug ;; if you give him the go-ahead, he’s incredibly physically affectionate !! it’s to the point sometimes he doesn’t even notice, like placing a hand on someone’s back or their own hand ! though, since he’s in korea now, courtesy of his parents’ advice, he’s been trying to rein it in a little ! but no matter w who, he likes to hold hands or hug or link arms or give a bro kiss or anything similar !! - romance averted ;; it’s not that he’s trying to avoid thinking or anything about it, it’s that it honestly doesn’t have much place in his life at all, so it’s never the first thing to come to mind. unfortunately, he’ll gal-pal everyone, assuming everyone are just friends up until people tell him explicitly otherwise - indecisive ;; there really is no choice he feels 100% on. as soon as anyone suggests anything else, he’s quick to switch over, even if he already had a position. the things he can’t change on are things he’s always been mulling over - reckless ;; jae-sung loves to do whatever to distract himself, and it’s pretty obvious in how he literally leaps from building to building away from home. he has a deep love for freerunning, and he’s good at it too (even has a yt channel where he posts a lot of it!), though it doesn’t look it; he always has some bruises or cuts on him. he also loves to try out any sort of trick w any sport such as skateboarding or iceskating!! falling is just part of the fun to him - responsible ;; yeah, it’s a little weird to follow w this, but he really is !! he’s responsible in the ohhhhh crap i have to start on this essay now if i want to be done in time pls learn from me everyone :pensive: type of way. he more so encourages and helps other people to be able to manage themselves, however, sometimes he should really follow his own advice when it comes to self-care.

! WANTED CONNECTIONS ! [ heres the pg for it but it’s all the same prompts word for word tbh ]

- family first ;; you’re family ! it tbh doesn’t matter what branch of the family you are or anything else, you’re family that maybe met jae-sung over a whatsapp or fb messenger videocall when y’all were young once ! or they can be super close, tbh i dont mind whatever !! - lending a hand ;; jae-sung has a habit of taking care of others first before anything else. whether or not your muse is consciously taking advantage of that, to your muse, jae-sung helps out by giving food or doing chores w you or letting you stay over or any other small job !! this can also work the other way around ! - opposites attract ;; yeah <3 maybe your muse is cold or the rebellious type or anything !! - guide ;; jae-sung is new to the city and your chara helps jae-sung go out and learn the areas around !! - buddies ;; i am already running out of ideas </3 but !! this is just someone (or multiple people!!) who jae-sung is constantly over at their place or they’re constantly over at jae-sung’s !! while they don’t have to enjoy every death-defying stunt jae-sung attempts, they still come along ! y’all are just buds who hang out !! - internet friend ;; the two of you have a history that’s mostly written !! we can work out details !! - lost and found ;; he dropped a notebook and when you saw it on the ground, maybe you picked it up, maybe not, you saw a bad drawing. the highlighter is not even in the pencil lines. he’s sort of embarrassed about it at first, but offers to draw a portrait of you anyways just to find anything to move onto - brother figure ;; to jae-sung, you’re a sibling figure. what that entails is up to you !! - wait what? ;; jae-sung learned something he wasn’t supposed to and is now paying the price genuinely :pensive: major f but it rly just be like that sometimes - anything !! ;; we can come up w anything or combine these or whatever !! im open to anything !! ^^ everything above is open to all genders !! [04:13AM EDIT] omg this is so embarazzing but i completely forgot to add if youre more comfortable being dmed than dming, just like the post !! i’ll hit you up !!

#ooc #dallyeog:intro #the way this was not a short little thing </3 #if something looks weird feel free to tell me !!

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

Text

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol.

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down.

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway.

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli.

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done.

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve.

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this.

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago.

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows.

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol!

Lauren x

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lihikainanea · 4 years

Text

The Dangerous Forest Excursion Part 2

Author’s note: I kept very, very quiet about this. I didn’t mention to anyone that I was working on it--I was sneaky, sneaky, sneaky.

Partly because I really was completely fucking devastated when Tumblr deleted the original and I stupidly didn’t have a back up copy, and partly because it was such a daunting task for me--I really, really did think that the original was perfect. And the more I thought about attempting to re-write it, the more I broke out into a cold sweat.

Eventually, though, I decided that I just...couldn’t leave this part unwritten. It’s too important of a juncture in their relationship--it’s the first time tiger realizes what she needs from Bill and asks for it, it’s the first time they incorporate punishment into their dynamic, and it’s the first time Bill starts to understand tiger much better. It was too pivotal to not have still around.

Ultimately, though--I also decided that it was too difficult for me to re-write it as it once was. Because in my brain, my tiresome little perfectionist brain, it would never be on par with the first version--I really do think it was probably my most favourite thing I have written, ever.

The original was posted back in August, and 3 days later--when I was just editing a stupid tag for it--Tumblr just up and deleted the entire thing without a trace. If you were lucky enough to read it while it existed, then I’m glad. It was my peak. But for everyone else, I hope this slightly different version lives up to all of the hype you might have heard about it.

You can read part one of the dangerous forest excursion here. If you have trouble with it, or if you need some hindsight as to where my mind was at, you can read my director’s (author’s?) commentary.

I love you guys. Thank you for your enthusiasm for this two-parter, and your very kind demands that I take another stab at this piece. ***

You hadn’t meant to run, to leave. You hadn’t meant to do the very same thing that had gotten the both of you into this mess to begin with. But it was too much, all of it was too much and it was more than you could handle. It had been days since you had gotten lost in the minefield that was that forest, days since the first promise you ever broke to Bill, days since you were on the receiving end of his fury—fury that was still too fresh in your mind, still weighing on your psyche, still ripping you apart. You didn’t know what was happening, how to make sense of what you were feeling, why his anger was still crushing your chest. Why the guilt you felt from it burned like acid through your veins, why you couldn’t reel your emotions in.

Bill, for as passionate as he was, never carried things for long. He would feel an emotion intensely, let it ruin him for the moment, but when it was done…it was done. He had been furious with you that night, enraged enough to ignore your need for his help. His own emotions had exploded, clawed their way out of him until he was yelling at you… until you used your safe word. He had paused, horrified, stepping outside to regain his composure before coming back in. It was the maddest you had ever seen him, but within a few minutes—after exchanged apologies, softer words—it was done. You were forgiven, and the chapter was closed.

For him.

You still needed more. It weighed too heavily on your mind—his anger, his disappointment in you. You couldn’t put words to it, this feeling of dread still nagging in the back of your mind, this lack of closure over it all. The lack of feeling forgiven.

And maybe that was it, maybe that’s what this ache burning into your mind was. A lack of feeling forgiven. You had done something wrong, put yourself in danger, broken a promise to him, and after a few exchanged words…it was done. You were forgiven. It lacked the depth that you needed, it lacked all of the components that you didn’t know you needed in order to feel forgiven. It lacked…consequence. Your actions had only merited his anger, his disappointment with you, and just as suddenly as they appeared, they had vanished. Without a single consequence.

It felt fake. And even though he told you that he forgave you, even though he made sure you understood, it still somehow lacked the validity you needed. Consequence, you realized, was what you were after. Wrong doings and punishment. Action and consequence. It was the balance that had lacked, and what had played on your mind to make you believe that you still didn’t have his total forgiveness.

You struggled with it, wrestled with the idea. You wanted to bring it up to him, you wanted to ask for his help, but you didn’t know how.You still couldn’t articulate the feeling properly, or tell him what you needed that would help. You wanted consequence, wanted a little absolution, but you didn’t know what that looked like. His words weren’t enough, you needed something a little more…concrete. Physical.

Punishment, you realized, but in that exact form: physical. He had spanked you before but it was strictly under the guise of pleasure, as part of something you both enjoyed, and you didn’t know how he would react to your request to use it as a form of exoneration.You struggled with it, struggled with how to ask for what you needed, and the more the days wore on, the more you withdrew. The more your mind got away on you. And it culminated one night as you were both reading on the couch, when Bill suddenly shut his book and turned to you, taking yours from your hand and placing both on the coffee table.

“Tiger, what is it?” He asked with a heavy sigh, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You feigned confusion, but it didn’t work. He rested his hand on top of yours in your lap.

“You know what I mean,” he coaxed, “Something still isn’t right with you. And I need you to be honest with me, so that we can fix it.”

You squirmed, avoiding his gaze and fidgeting. Taking both of your hands in his, he ducked his gaze until he caught your eye.

“Please kid,” he pleaded, “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

You let out a long sigh, meeting his eyes when he brought your hands to his mouth and kissed them.

“I don’t feel forgiven,” you whispered.

“What?”

“What happened between us. I don’t feel forgiven,” you said, “Bill, I can’t even explain it. I don’t know how. But there is just this….this weight on me, this nagging in my brain. This nagging that needs closure. Somehow. I need something that will just…something that will confirm to me, beyond shadow of a doubt that I’m forgiven. Because right now, I still feel like you’re mad at me. I still feel your disappointment, your anger, I feel everything except your forgiveness and it’s just very…heavy.”

There was a long pause, a lingering silence as he took in your words.

“Tiger,” he started gently, “I’ve forgiven you. It’s done for me. You’re forgiven. You need to know that.”

“I do know that,” you interjected, and he grabbed your face in his hands.

“Say it then,” he ordered. You sighed.

“I’m forgiven,” you mumbled.

“Not just that,” he implored.

“You forgive me,” you clarified, “You forgive me. Bill, I can say it as much as I want. For whatever reason, I don’t feel it. And I need to feel it, for me to be able to put this behind me. I need something to help me feel forgiven. Some form of absolution.”

“And do you know what that is?” He asked. You bit your lip and tried to take back your hands from his, but he held on, “Kid, it’s me. You can ask me for anything, I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you to spank me,” you whispered.

“Okay….is that it? Because tiger, we do that already. If you want more of it, just—”

“Punishment,” you interrupted, “I need you to punish me.”

He went still, releasing your hands from his.

“What?” He asked.

“I need you to punish me,” you repeated, “Action, and consequence. I let you down. I disappointed you, I broke a promise to you. And even though you’ve told me a million times that I’m forgiven, I don’t feel forgiven— because there hasn’t been a consequence. And I need you to give me some proof or confirmation, some kind of consequence to my actions, that cuts through this mess in my head. So that I can move on from it.”

The silence was deafening, and you glanced up from your lap to see his eyes boring into yours.

“No,” he said definitively, “Tiger, no.”

Your chest constricted, your lungs tightening as he stood abruptly from the couch. He paced the living room, raking his hands through his hair as you fought the urge to cry.

“No?” You whispered, and swallowed hard, “Why no?”

“Because,” he spat, “Because just no, tiger. You’re forgiven. I’m not going to hurt you just to prove that to you.”

“You spank me anyway, what’s the big difference? It’s the same thing,” you argued.

“I spank you because you enjoy it, because it gives you pleasure. What’s you’re after is not pleasure kid, it’s pain.”

“I thought I could ask you for anything,” you murmured, and the sob in your throat was threatening to break. You felt humiliated, embarrassed, and foolish for even asking.

“You can,” he stopped his pacing, turning his attention on you as he rubbed his hands over his face,”You can ask me for anything. But this— this isn’t anything. You’re asking me to hurt you because you think you deserve it, all to get confirmation on something you already have. Tiger, you have my forgiveness.”

“I’m asking for absolution,” you tried.

“No, you’re asking for penance. You’re asking for pain,” his voice was thick with barely controlled emotion.

“It’s not pain, Bill,” you tried again, “At least not more than what I can handle. And it would help.”

“No,” he shook his head definitively, “It’s no, tiger. Find some other way to repent, some other way to get the penance you think you need.”

You sniffled, nodding your head as fat tears rolled down your cheeks. The hot flash of embarrassment crept up your chest, burning its way into your mind to join all the other feelings of shame and disappointment you had felt crushing you for days.

You heard him take a deep breath, felt the couch dip under his weight as he sat down beside you and took your hand in his.

“Tiger,” he said softly, “Hurting you is a hard limit for me. I can’t.”

You nodded, swiping at your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. You shrugged and tried for a half hearted smile, but you knew he saw through it.

“Limits are limits,” you told him, “We both have them. I won’t push yours.”

He nodded, still looking a little unsure, but leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to yours.

And that’s where you had left it. But when the next day felt even heavier, and the one after that was worse, you shut down. You needed…distance. You needed to clear your head, to forget the conversation, to get over your humiliation, try and deal with the mess in your head by yourself. So you sought solace the only way you knew how.

By running.

And so, you fled. You waited until he stepped out for groceries, knowing it was at least an hour there and back each way, giving you enough time to pack up the few things your had taken with you, and be on your way. Not wanting Bill to panic when he couldn’t find you, you took a second to scrawl a note on a torn piece of paper, leaving it on the kitchen table for him to find.

Gone in search of penance. Need space.

I love you,

Tiger

And you grabbed the duffel bag you had packed, and left. The area was remote, no cabs available, but over the course of a few days you had become friendly with some of the fishermen by the harbour. They left in the early afternoon to ride back into town with their haul for the markets, and you planned to hitch a ride with one of them. The wharf was 2 miles from the house, a slightly winding road, but one that was impossible to get lost on. You heaved the bag over your shoulder, and set out.

It took two hours for the calls to start coming in, his name popping up on your screen. You ignored them every time, but the texts followed soon after.

Tiger, where are you?

Are you okay?

Come back, kid. We need to talk about this.

You ignored those too. And once back on the mainland you headed to his apartment for the rest of your things, before getting a cab to the airport to change your flight home for the soonest one available. The texts continued and you ignored them as best you could, but a last desperate plea came in before your plane took off.

I love you, kid. But you can’t keep running.

With a heavy sigh, you shut off your phone.

You only let yourself break when you unlocked the door to your apartment, inside the comfort of your own home it all came crashing down onto you and you let it. You cried as you started a hot shower, kept crying as you brushed your hair out, and cried just that much harder when you pulled one of his shirts on over your head and curled up to try and get some much needed sleep. You hesitated when you reached for your phone, wondering if you should turn it back on and worried at what you might see, but with a deep sigh you caved. The messages were no surprise.

Please kid, come back.

I love you tiger, and I’m sorry.

Sniffling, you shoved the phone under your pillow and tried to sleep. It was in vain and you had a feeling it would be, the night dragging on as you held onto your pillow, your eyes barely closing for longer than a blink. It was too much, it was still too much, and now the added weight of Bill’s refusal to give you what you told him you needed just drove you further into your head. You couldn’t escape it anymore.

You tried to get comfortable, tried to relax enough to just get an ounce of the rest you needed, but it was completely futile. So when the first hints of dawn broke on a sleepless night, you rubbed at your eyes in frustration, wincing as they burned. Resigned to your fate, you threw back the sheets and stood. You eyed your phone as it dinged with a new message, but you left it there on the bed as you went to get a pot of coffee on.

You heard it ping with a message—then again a second later, and on the third one, you sighed and gave up. Reaching for it, the message tugged at something in you.

Tiger, please. I’ll give you space. Just please, kid—send me something to let me know you’re safe. It doesn’t even have to be a word. Just something. I need to know you’re safe.

You knew he meant it, and you knew that he was probably still going out of his mind with worry even though you left a note. You started typing out your response—a brief, curt sentence of just barely two words—but a noise from the front porch stopped you dead in your tracks.

A key. In the lock. The door opening. There was only one other person in the world who had a key to your apartment.

“Tiger!” You heard him bellow, and your blood ran cold. His footsteps thundered up your stairs, taking two and three at a time, and you raced to the front door just in time to slam the deadbolt across. He jammed his key in the lock, turning it and throwing your door open—only to have it come to an abrupt halt when the chain for the bolt caught.

“Tiger, open the fucking door,” he growled, squeezing his hand through to try and undo the chain.

“No, I’m not ready to see you,” you said meekly.

“I don’t give a fuck what you’re ready for kid, we’re going to talk,” he pulled the door forward before pushing it again, trying to jimmy the chain loose.

“No,” you said sternly, but he wasn’t having it.

“We tried it your way kid, now we’re going to do it my way,” he snarled, “Open the fucking door.”

“Go away, Bill,” you pleaded.

You heard his deep breath, followed by the sound of his footsteps retreating down the stairs and the front door slamming. You thought—just for a brief moment—that maybe it worked. Maybe you had convinced him.

Until you heard a commotion from the kitchen.

He had taken a running leap up the side of your apartment, balancing his foot on a drainage pipe for just a second to gain enough height to latch onto the stone ledge beneath your kitchen window. Tossing your screen open, in a feat of incredible strength—God, you forgot how strong he was sometimes—he pulled himself up. You ran to the kitchen just in time to see half of his upper body coming through the window, a leg following close behind and landing in your sink as he folded himself in half, squeezing through the frame. His limbs tangled and he couldn’t get a good angle so you watched, eyes wide, as his other leg came jutting through and he tumbled to the floor in your kitchen.

You stood there, stunned.

He looked up at you from the floor, his eyes blazing, as he slowly pushed himself upright. He didn’t break your gaze, didn’t even blink as he slowly advanced on you. His shoulders square, stretched up to his full height, he towered as he took slow strides towards you. You took one back for every one of his forward.

“Why do you run?” he growled, “Why do you. Always. Run.”

You were powerless, and as if to emphasize his point— because your mind was on survival mode–you turned and bolted. Tried to make it down the hallway but you barely got two steps away before his hand closed on your arm and he hauled you back with a force, slamming your back into the wall. He leaned down to be in your eyesight, placing his palms flat on the wall on either side and glowering at you.

His jaw ticked, and you gulped.

“Tiger, enough,” he growled, “Look at me.”

When you kept your eyes downcast, he took your chin in one of his hands and tilted your head up roughly.

“Look at me, and tell me why you ran,” he said, and it was that tone of voice—that authoritative, commanding tone of voice that even thick with emotion, had your knees almost giving out. The knot, that pit of fire that had been burning in your stomach for over a week, was starting to uncoil. Just barely.

“Because I was scared,” you mumbled, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why?” He demanded, and you looked down for a second before he was wrenching your chin up again “Look at me.”

“Because I asked you for something,” your voice shook and your lip quivered, “Something that I needed, and you told me no.”

“Why did I tell you no?” His eyes bore into yours.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled pathetically, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Tiger.”

“Because you didn’t want to hurt me,” you sniffled. And for the first time, you saw him soften. You felt his warm breath fan over your face as he sighed, releasing the vice grip on your chin to cup your face instead.

“Tiger, do you understand that?” He asked gently, “Why I said no? Why I didn’t want to hurt you?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, “Even though it wouldn’t hurt me. You spank me anyway, and I—”

He placed a finger over your mouth, and you stopped.

“Punishment is different. Punishment implies that I’m inflicting pain on purpose, hurting you on purpose. And I didn’t want to do that,” he said. You huffed, trying to push him away but he didn’t move.

“We had this conversation two days ago Bill,” you snapped, “I’m not having it again.”

“I’m not done,” he put his knee between your legs, placing a flat hand on your chest and keeping you pinned to the wall, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I still don’t. But I…I looked into it a bit more. And I understand a little better now, why you might need this. Some kind of punishment to set your mind back right again. I understand you a little better now.”

“What?”

“Tiger, I don’t need this. I forgave you a long time ago. But I understand why maybe it’s more…complicated, in your mind. Why you’re having more trouble with it. And if you still need what you asked me for, then I’ll give it to you.”

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze as you struggled to find words.

“You will?” You asked.

“Yes,” he said, and he took your cheek in his hand, “Do you still need it? Will it help?”

“Yes,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, “Please, Bill. It’ll help.”

He nodded once, bending to press his lips to yours in a lingering kiss.

“Go wait for me on the bed, then. Clothes off,” he took a slow step back, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

It took you a second to realize that he was serious, but then you got your feet under you and pushed off from the wall. You stopped on your way out the kitchen, turning around and walking back to him to pull him in for another kiss.

“Thank you, bud,” you whispered. He nodded again, jutting his chin down the hallway to get you moving again before he lost his nerve.

Once you were out of his sight, he took a few calming breaths—deep and steadying, before heading to the cabinet where you kept your liquor. Finding the Swedish one you never drank, he popped the cap off and downed a gulp right from the bottle before shaking his head to clear the fog. Swiping his thumb across his lip, he headed to your bedroom.

You were sitting cross legged on the bed, waiting for further instructions.

“Come here,” he called you over as he stood at the foot of the bed, “Get on all fours, kid.”

You did as you were told, and his hand stroked up your back. Knowing he’d ask for it, you turned to meet his eyes before the request left his lips.

“Tiger, this is for you. I don’t need this but I understand why you do, and I want to give you what you need.”

You nodded.

“But once it’s done—it’s done. You’re forgiven, and we’ll both put this behind us, okay? Promise me.” He continued.

“Yes,” you agreed, “I promise.”

“You’re going to get 5 kid,” he explained, “Count them out loud. What do you say if you want me to stop?”

“Pineapple,” you said, and your heart was already tripling in beats. You could feel it there—the absolution you needed, the one you craved, right at your fingertips.

“Or?”

“Red,” you replied obediently. He nodded, pushing your top half further into the mattress before reaching for a pillow, placing the corner near your mouth. You looked back at him in confusion.

“To bite down on, if you need to,” he explained, “Ready?”

You nodded. Gritting your teeth, you waited—and when the first strike hit you, your mind went blank. It hurt, it stung a lot more than when he would do it for pleasure, but all you felt was….relief.

“One,” you counted out. The weight, that devastating weight that had been crushing you for days was suddenly….dissolving. Disappearing. His hand pulled back, landing another hard strike on the fleshy part of your ass and you inhaled sharply, melting more into the mattress. You felt all of it—the guilt, the disappointment, the heaviness of the last few days just dissipating, replaced with the sweet resolution that punishment brought. The absence of thought. The quietness of it all, and the lightness of finally feeling forgiven.

“Two,” you squeaked out through gritted teeth. He pulled back, landing another hard one and you gasped, biting into the pillow that he had put for you. The absence of that guilt was giving way to something else, something you hadn’t felt since before you wandered into that forest alone—it was giving way to arousal. To the thrill, the feeling of finally getting what you need from the person you needed it from, the freedom of it all.

“Count, tiger,” his loud order broke through your thoughts, when you failed to call out the following strike.

“Three,” it was a deep groan, pain mixed in with pleasure as you wound your hands in the sheets. It was building, deep in your gut. Coiling tightly as every bad feeling, every bit of anxiety you had struggled with gave way to something much more intense, much more pleasurable.

His hand retracted, landing the hardest one yet as you tensed. Your entire mind was blank, pulsating with nothing but the absolute absence of everything that had been crushing you for so long, the thrumming of pleasure building. He knew, and he marvelled at it—he could smell your arousal, see the sheen of it between your legs as he brought his hand down hard. He saw the blush creep down your back, felt your muscles tense as you writhed slightly before him, saw the way you inched your legs closer together.

“Four,” you mumbled. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you had started to cry. It wasn’t out of pain, but out of just…relief. Tears soaked the pillow and you winced, but the pain brought the peace that you knew it would. The peace that you needed, the pleasure you craved, the relief.

He pulled his hand back a final time, landing it with a resounding slap as your back arched.

“Five,” you breathed out, and then you were being gathered in his arms.

“Good girl,” he murmured, “We’re done kid, we’re done.”

Wrapping you up in his embrace, he gently flipped you onto your back as you cried openly. He waited for your move, tried to see if you would reach for him or if you needed distance, but your hands immediately sought him out—grabbing at him until you had enough traction to pull him forward onto you.

“Bill,” you pleaded, grasping onto him as hard as you could, “Please…”

He knew what you needed, what you were asking for. He watched you as he glided his hand up your inner thigh, taking his time to gauge your reaction to make sure it was what you wanted, what you needed. You inhaled sharply when his fingers passed over you, stifling a moan as he ran them through your wetness, spreading you wide.

“Tiger, look at me,” he whispered as he kissed a few of your tears away. He ran his hand gently over your slit, pushing two fingers into you as you groaned. You opened your eyes to his.

“It’s done kid,” he pumped his fingers gently, “You’re forgiven.”

He crooked his fingers and you stifled a cry as he pressed them to the front of your walls, rubbing gentle circles. You were so wet, your arousal soaking his hand as he ground his palm into you. You were overwhelmed, every sense on fire—you could feel his fingers, long and slender, moving inside you. You could hear the obscene sound, wet and warm, as he moved his hand against you. You could smell him, feel his lips on your face, his warm breath on your cheek. You felt everything good, everything that had nothing to do with the emotions that had crushed you before.

“Bill…” you croaked, and he shushed you lightly.

“I know, sweet girl,” he praised. You cried out as his thumb found your clit, pressing down softly as his fingers continued to work you over.

“You did so well for me kid,” he purred, “You took it so well. And it’s done now. I forgive you.”

You sobbed as his fingers quickened just barely, hitting all the spots deep in you as you writhed. But you wanted more—you wanted to be greedy, ask for just a little bit more, to throw you over the edge.

“You can come for me, tiger,” he murmured as he kissed you, “Any time you need to.”

But you grit your teeth, tried to stave it off as you grabbed his hand between your legs to stay it.

“With you,” you begged, your voice cracking, “Please Bill, I want to come with you.”

His eyes flicked over you, his gaze intense and searching—but then he kissed you again, all tongue and teeth and passion, before gently removing his hand. You whimpered as he brought it to his lips, sucking both fingers into his mouth as he groaned at your taste. He raised up on his haunches, undoing his pants and shoving them to his knees before he made a move for you again, but you rested your hands on his chest.

“All of it, bud,” you pleaded, “Please, I need to feel as much of you as I can.”

You didn’t have to ask twice, he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and lifted a bit to pull his shirt over his head before he was reaching for you again. You kissed him hard, grabbing hold of his length and lining him up at your entrance as he pushed in slowly. Moaning, he grabbed your hand as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Tiger,” he moaned against your lips, “You’re forgiven.”

Your other hand raked down his back and he jerked forward, as your abdomen tightened in impending release.

“Yes,” you sighed against his mouth, keeping his gaze.

“Do you feel it now?” He whispered, “Is it more clear now?”

He kept his pace, his hips slowly rolling into you before dragging back in delicious friction, then pushing forward again.

“Yes,” you whimpered, closing your eyes for a brief second to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“Say it,” he urged, sucking his breath in through his teeth when you clenched around him, “God you feel so good. Say it for me, kid.”

“You forgive me,” you cried, bringing a hand up to rake through his hair. His eyes stayed on you the entire time, green orbs bore into you as your muscles started to tighten, your breath started to hitch.

“Good girl,” he praised. He rolled his hips with a bit more force, burying himself deep inside you as you gasped. You tilted your chin up, shutting your eyes briefly as the pleasure slammed into you.

“Keep looking at me, tiger,” he pleaded, and with a gentle hand he brought your face back to his, “I want to see it, when you come for me.”

You whined, a pathetic whimper as you felt everything start to clench. You were so wet, so warm around him, and every time he pushed forward he rubbed further down on your clit. The pressure was building, your stomach tense and tight as everything started to go blank.

“Let go, sweet girl,” he coaxed, “Give it to me.”

And with your chin in his hand, his forehead on yours and your eyes locked with his, you let it slam into you. The white, hot flash of extreme pleasure, building for a few days and culminating in an intense release. It was emotions, it was physical, it was everything you had held way too deep inside for a few days. You cried out, clenching your teeth and eventually closing your eyes as you spasmed around him, surging forward. You bit into his shoulder to hold back a scream, your hand squeezing his as you let out a guttural groan when all of your muscles released. His own resonated in your ear soon after as he pitched forward, driving you hard into the mattress as his hips worked against yours. He moaned, his breath coming in rasps as he held onto your hand, the other one gripping the sheets. A few more thrusts, slow and lazy but deep enough to still have you pleasure drunk, and he collapsed breathless on top of you.

You laid there for a long moment, all of your limbs wrapped around him as tears flowed freely down your face. It was silent except for your cries, small sniffles and whimpers that you couldn’t control, as you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you, kid,” he murmured in your ear, “It’s done now. Yes?”

“Yes,” you nodded emphatically, kissing any part of him you could reach, “It’s done.”

He raised slightly, kissing first your ear, then peppering them along your jaw eventually resting his lips on yours for a soft kiss.

“You feel forgiven?” He asked.

“Yes,” you sighed, tilting up to kiss him again, “Yes.”

“Good,” he rested his forehead lightly against yours, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You reached your mouth for it, kissing it lightly and nipping the pad of it playfully. He laughed, pulling you into his chest as he rolled over onto his side. But then you remembered something, something you had wanted to ask him about, and your brow creased with confusion.

“Bill,” you started, his thumb still resting on your mouth and warbling your speech, “Before, you said that you…looked into this more. And that you understood it better now. What did you mean?”

His lips pursed thoughtfully as he contemplated his response.

“I just read up on some stuff,” he murmured.

“What stuff?” You prodded. He sighed.

“I just read up on…subs. Submissive dynamics,” he explained cautiously, “And what they need. How guilt and punishment comes into play, and why it’s sometimes necessary. For them to feel better.”

“Oh.”

He eyed you carefully, tapping his thumb against your lips and you opened for it readily. You took a second, sucking on the pad of it and looking up at him.

“But…I’m not a sub,” you said, your words muffled as you sucked on it. A wry smile quirked up the tips of his mouth.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. You adjusted his thumb in your mouth, using your tongue to push it into your cheek as you glared at him.

“Bill, I’m not a sub,” you insisted. He nodded, his lips twitching as he fought to conceal a smile.

“Right,” he said, “You’re not a sub.”

Satisfied with his response even though it was slightly insincere, you moved forward to tuck your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you, bud,” you mumbled. He kissed your head, stroking your back.

“I need to check you over kid,” he murmured, “Make sure you’re okay.”

“We have a lot of time,” you mumbled, your eyes getting heavy, “Right now, just keep holding me.”

His arms tightened around you, a hand weaving its way into your hair, as you finally exhaled for the first time in days.

#BFF!Bill #sub tiger #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard drabble

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pastelgoogie97 · 4 years

Text

Wish You Were Gay ~jjk

Hey y’all! This is my first official post here on Tumblr, so I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader (f), Bestfriend!Jimin x Bestfriend!reader (f)

Genre: Angst, fluff

Friends To Lovers!

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, arguing, Jeongguk is oblivious and doesn’t know that you’ve had a crush on him for SO LONG, kind of slow burn???? But like not really??

I apologize if there’s any mistakes in the writing, I’ll probably go back and edit this post just in case i see something off, but i really hope you enjoy!

“How’d that date with that girl from last night go Jimin-ah?” Namjoon queried as Jimin looked up from his lap and smiled widely.

“It was so amazing! I really like her,” Jimin’s lips turned upward into a shy grin, his cheeks dusted with a tint of pink.

All of his band members smiled and started to tease him, making the boy giggle and wave them all off with his hand. Y/N giggled and sat back on the couch, looking at Jimin before she heard Jin speak.

“And you Y/N? Anyone caught your eye?”

Y/N snapped out of her hazy daze and looked up at Jin, her calm expression faltering into a slightly doleful one. She gave a weak smile towards Jin and then flashed her gaze towards his band member Jungkook quickly before looking back at him.

“Um, I-I like someone, but he-he doesn’t really like me,” Y/N admitted, looking down at her lap to play with her fingers nimbly.

“Well who is it? Maybe we can help you!” Jeongguk offered with his dashing smile, Y/N feeling her heart rip itself out of her chest at the sight of him.

“O-oh, no you don’t know him. It’s okay, thanks though!” Y/N tried to sound more cheerful to lie to everyone, making them think that this guy was some mystery man who they’d never met before.

The truth was that it was actually Jeongguk. Jeongguk had been her crush ever since she’d first started hanging out with the boys. The youngest member had always been so nice to her, always giving her advice and inviting her over whenever she was bored or needed someone to talk to, he’d even helped her when her anxiety was acting up and got her through a panic attack. Plus, he was really attractive and that was enough to make Y/N slowly wrap herself around his finger without him even knowing it.

The conversation steered away from love lives into dance practice for the boys, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Namjoon standing up to go and practice their dance routine for their next show. Jimin, Jin, Tae, Suga, and Y/N were the only ones left in the room.

“Y/N, you have to stop doing this to yourself,” Tae admitted, looking into her eyes in a grief-stricken manner.

She looked up and acted like she didn’t know what he was talking about, turning to Jimin who was looking at her the same was as everyone else in the room.

“He doesn’t know about it and maybe it’s better if he doesn’t. I don’t wanna ruin what we have right now anyways,”

Yoongi shook his head disapprovingly, sighing as he rested his head into the palms of his hands at her response.

“Y/N, you can’t keep lying to him. It’s going to build up until you just burst and it’s going to be too overwhelming for him to comprehend it and it’s gonna make you feel worse than you do now!”

Jimin nodded and held his friend close to him, the tears that fell down her cheeks blankly making him pull her in for a hug. Y/N sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, looking up at the four boys sitting in front of her.

She wanted to admit her feelings for him, it’s all she’s ever wanted to do. But he’d always talk about some girl he’d met at the MNET music awards. He’d gotten her phone number after they bumped into each other while he was walking back to his seat and she was all he’d talk about nowadays. It broke Y/N’s heart but she didn’t want to say anything since he seemed so happy when he’d talk about her.

“There’s no point in telling him anyways, he’s too obsessed with Mina to care about my feelings,” She spoke hoarsely, all of the members frowning at her answer, their hearts filling to the brim with pity.

“But, I will at some point I guess, before it gets too serious with him and Mina. I don’t want him to be in a relationship and then I tell him,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was going to tell him about her feelings today. She had finally decided to put on her bravest face and rehearsed what she was going to say nearly a hundred times. She was at his bedroom door, her hand reaching up to press her knuckles against the wood of his door. When she heard a soft hum from behind the door she opened it, but the sight was too much for her to bear.

“Y/N!” Jeongguk jumped, pulling his lips away from none other than the woman of the hour, Mina.

Y/N’s breathing picked up and she could feel her heart shatter into thousands of shards, cutting the inside of her body that now burned. She looked at Mina and then Jeongguk, both of them sitting on his bed with messy hair and swollen lips, the two of them looking at her like she'd just murdered someone. Y/N muttered a soft apology before sprinting away from his room, the sound of the front door getting thrown open making Jeongguk sprint outside right behind her.

The hard rain pounded against her head, but it didn’t hurt half as bad as seeing Jeongguk with Mina did. Her tears blended in with the droplets of cold water splashing onto her skin, her flushed face relaxing at the feeling of the drizzle of cool water surging down her cheeks. She stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulder, the sound of Jeongguk’s tired breaths ringing in her ears.

She turned around and faced him, his face red from running after her as he doubled over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He took one look at her and everything came crashing down for him, his heart breaking at the sight of her crying in front of him.

“Y-Y/N you weren’t supposed to see that,” Jeongguk stuttered out, still slightly out of breath when he spoke.

“No. I-it’s fine. I should’ve waited for a more forward answer,” Y/N replied, furrowing her eyebrows as she let more tears fall down her cheeks when she blinked.

“W-What were you going to say? Did something happen?” His hand caressed her cheek and instead of nuzzling into it like she always did, she ripped her face away from his warm palm, the skin feeling colder than ever without his touch.

“Y-yeah, you-you know what? Something did happen, Jeongguk. And I was supposed to fix it right now by telling you, but this just proved my point.” She snapped. “I was stupid for thinking that I should take everyone’s advice,”

Jeongguk wore a confused expression on his face as Y/N rambled, her voice cracking with dysphoria. She met his gaze and he could see how puffy and bloodshot her eyes were, her hair damp and dripping wet, the sounds of her tears and the beads of rain falling onto the concrete making the same feeble sound.

“What advice? And what were you supposed to fix Y/N? I don’t understand,”

The girl scoffed and looked down at her feet, trying her hardest not to embarrass herself by wailing and screaming. She already drew enough attention to herself, she didn’t need more attention drawn to her. Before she could open her mouth, Mina came up from behind Jungkook, one of his hoodies draped over her head. Y/N’s favorite hoodie of his to wear. Actually, it was the one he reserved in his closet for her. Whenever she was feeling sad, he’d designated a specific hoodie of his for her to wear, and now Mina was wearing it.

That was when Y/N realized that there was no going back on her anger now. She looked up at the boy in front of her and furiously wiped her tears, letting out a loud hiccup as she tried to speak, sniffling and closing her eyes as she leaned down slightly, her body racking with sobs before she made eye contact with him again.

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX THIS JEONGGUK, I WAS SUPPOSED TO FIX WHAT I DID WRONG,” Y/N wailed, Jeongguk’s expression softening when he heard her start to yell.

“DO YOU JUST LET ANY GIRL WHERE THE HOODIE YOU SAID WAS FOR ME? DO YOU TREAT EVERY GIRL THE SAME?” She shouted. “Maybe I just misunderstood,”

Jeongguk turned around to see Mina in the hoodie he’d given to her and he felt his heart wrench with guilt. He asked Mina to go back inside and put the hoodie away, not wanting her to wear it when Y/N was the only girl who’d ever worn it.

“Y-Y/N, no. No, I don’t treat every girl the same. I swear, whatever I did with you was genuine, and-and special, I swear,”

“You don’t have to lie to me Jeongguk,” Y/N whimpered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands once more.

She was shivering, she was so cold, but she didn’t even care. She just wanted to run away and get away from him, to just leave and never have to see him again. He took note of her shivering and reached his arms out to her, wanting to warm her up with his touch. She ripped herself away from him once more and let out another cough.

“DON’T TOUCH ME JEONGGUK,” She screamed. “BECAUSE THEN I WON’T BE ABLE TO FIX ANYTHING, YOU’RE JUST GOING TO RUIN IT AND I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO TELL YOU WHAT I WANTED TO,”

Jeongguk was so confused, he just wanted to know what was wrong and the fact that she was being hysterical wasn’t able to help him help her.

“What do you want to fix Y/N? What’s making you so angry?”

She’d completely lost her cool at that mere comment. Why was it so hard to confess feelings for someone? Why did she have to fall for him when he clearly didn’t like her back? She just wanted to shrivel up and crawl into a ball.

“YOU. YOU, JEONGGUK! YOU’RE THE PROBLEM,” Y/N bawled, her voice raw and hoarse. “YOU MADE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AND YOU’VE COMPLETELY RUINED ME,”

Jeongguk’s eyes widened and he nearly fell backwards, the reality of it all finally hitting him. She had caught feelings for him. She was in love with him.

“AND ALL YOU TALK ABOUT IS MINA RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE SHIT FOR EVEN THINKING THAT YOU COULD EVER LIKE ME BACK! I WANTED TO TELL YOU, I-I TRIED SO HARD BUT I COULD NEVER BRING MYSELF TO DO IT,”

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU RIGHT NOW AND SEEING YOU WITH HER MADE ME WANT TO GAUGE MY FUCKING EYES OUT! I DIDN’T WANT TO CATCH FEELINGS BECAUSE I KNOW YOU DON’T LOVE ME, BUT I DID AND I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT,”

Y/N stopped to catch her breath, her comments coming out of her mouth so fast that she was scared she’d lose air from how fast she’d spoken to him. Part of her was wishing that he hadn’t understood her so she could’ve said how she felt and he wouldn’t have said anything and they could go back to normal. But he’d heard every word, and it sucked.

“JUST-j-just say something, p-please,”

She looked into his eyes to see him wearing the same expression as before, his dark brown doe-like eyes widened in fear and his mouth agape, his arms in an awkward position when she finally asked him to answer her.

“Y-Y/N, I-”

She knew it. He didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t know why she followed the boys’ advice. She knew it was too stupid of her.

“Just forget any of this happened,”

With that, Y/N walked all the way back home in the rain, part of Jeongguk yearning to go after her to talk to her, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete, his hair falling in front of his face, blocking the view he head of her walking away with her head down and her arms crossed over her chest.

He wanted to speak. He had so much he wanted to tell her, he wanted everything to come out but it wouldn’t, it just got caught in his throat. Standing in the rain gave him time to think to himself finally, the sound of it against his ears and pounding against the top of his head making him finally realize,

He was in love with her too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week since Y/N had confessed and she looked horrible. Jimin had tried everything in his power to get Y/N out of bed to do something productive, but he was always met with her being asleep or too buried in the tissues on her bed to pull her out.

“Jin-hyung I don’t know what to do, she won’t move, she won’t eat, I’ve had to force feed her so she doesn’t starve, I’m scared for her,” Jimin’s head was nuzzled into his hands, Jin rubbing his back comfortingly as tears fell from his eyes.

“Don’t worry Jimin, she’s going to be okay. As long as she has you she’s going to be just fine,”

Jimin nodded and continued to hug Jin.

The next morning he woke up and Jin was gone, his eyes shooting open as he rushed into Y/N’s bedroom to make sure that she was okay. When he saw that the bed was empty and heard the toilet flush, he realized she’d finally gotten out of bed. The bathroom door opened and out came Y/N, her messy bun unkempt with hairs sticking up in every direction, dark purple bags under her eyes, stains from her tears resting on her cheeks as dark red lines.

Jimin stopped Y/N on her way back to her bed and Y/N tried to move herself out of his grasp, but once she felt Jimin’s arms wrap around her figure, she couldn’t help but hug him back as he rubbed her back comfortingly. The two best friends cried in each other’s arms, not wanting to move from their position.

A knock at the door made both of their ears perk up, Jimin grabbing hold of Y/N’s arm as he yelled for whoever was at the door to come in while he cleaned his best friend’s face up.

“You really worried me, you know,” Jimin stated quietly. “I didn’t know if you were alive by the fifth day of you being locked up in there,”

Y/N looked down as Jimin placed a cold washcloth on her face to bring down the swelling under her eyes and on her cheeks. Y/N looked up through slightly damp eyelashes, apologetically glancing at Jimin’s tired and worn down expression.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked, some parts of the words fading into silence when she spoke.

Jimin smiled softly and rubbed her arms, fixing her hair as a final touch before he took her out of the bathroom. The two friends walked out of the bathroom to head into the kitchen to order something to eat when they saw Jin. He wasn’t alone. From behind him came Jeongguk with a bouquet of lilacs, sadly looking down at his shoes.

Y/N stared at Jeongguk and felt her heart break once more, the same way it had that day, if not even harder. Jimin grabbed Y/N before she could leave and pleaded for her to stay with his eyes, Y/N sighing as she looked into Jeongguk’s eyes. Jimin hugged her tightly and walked into the kitchen to order some food.

“You can come to my room to talk,” Y/N grunted lightly, Jeongguk nodding as he followed behind her into her dark room.

The room was almost completely dark, the small bit of sunlight that shone through her black curtains being the only thing that lit up her room. Y/N grabbed her trashcan and picked up all of the dirty tissues and tried to somewhat make her bed look neater before Jeongguk sat down. He handed her the flowers and Y/N softly smiled, the darkness hiding it from his eyes.

“Y-Y/N I wanted to apologize… for-for not saying anything when you told me how you felt,” Jeongguk began.

“It’s fine, Yoongi warned me that if I waited too long it would happen and it did, guess I should’ve just listened to him,”

Jeongguk looked down grimly, wanting to cry himself from how horrible he felt for causing Y/N to be this way. She met his gaze through the pitch black of her room and he felt himself buckle under the pressure, letting out a shaky sigh before grabbing her hands.

“Jeongguk if you just wanted to apologize then it’s fine, I’ll get over it. I know you don’t like me, you don’t have to remind me,”

He cut her off by smashing his lips onto her own, the skin of her lips still soft despite the seven days she’d gone just letting herself cry in bed. The second he felt her kiss back he found himself grown antsy, throwing his right hand behind her neck to pull her closer while the other gripped onto the material of her shirt tightly, grabbing a fistful of it into his palm.

They pulled away and Y/N was out of breath, not even noticing Jimin spying on them from the crack in her bedroom door. She didn’t know what to say. Now she was the one breathless as Jeongguk panted.

“Y/N, I love you,” He said it so quickly that Y/N asked him to say it again.

“Y-you what?”

“I’m in love with you,”

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She looked up at him to see that he didn’t look too hot either. Maybe not as bad as she did, but he did have bags under his eyes and his eyes were a bit bloodshot; he’d been crying over her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when you told me you loved me, and that I didn’t go after you even though I knew I should’ve. I was just so shocked a-and scared,”

Y/N nodded and listened to him ramble, wanting to just reconnect their lips again and forget about everything that had happened before this moment.

“I just want to be with you, I realized that you were the only girl who’d ever shown me the same amount of care I’d shown to them and it really made me think about how much I care about you,”

He gulped, blinking back a couple of tears.

“P-please, please let me love you. I really want to be with you, p-please tell me you still feel the same way,”

Y/N was crying again, but not with her knees tucked into her chest under the covers this time, no, she was crying while holding Jeongguk’s hands, listening to him admit his feelings for her, begging her to be with him.

“I-, y-yes. I want- I want to be with you. Please,”

Jeongguk nearly screamed, a scoff leaving his lips as he jumped up, lifting her into his arms as his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his figure before he reconnected their lips once more, closing the gap between them a second time.

They pulled away and rested their foreheads on each other’s, looking into each other’s eyes before smiling at each other, soft giggles protruding from their lips as they closed their eyes, finally able to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. She never expected it to happen like this, and neither did he, but they were so glad to be in that moment.

And that was more than enough for them.

#bts #bts x reader #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop idol x reader #jungkook #jeon jugnkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reade #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung

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darawonplease · 4 years

Text

trauma. ch3 - it could’ve been anyone.

The more Jiwon avoids getting involved, the more he’s captured by the woman he considered just a bubbly hoobae.

characters. Eun Jiwon x Sandara Park

warnings. swearing

a.n. I’ve been working on this chapter as soon as I finished posting the previous one and I seriously had too much going on so I heavily edited it to make it more manageable.

Thanks to another poll on twitter I finally decided the title for this chapter!

“it could’ve been anyone” was the most popular choice.

chapter 3, it could’ve been anyone.

[dara pov]

The tent bar in the distance started blurring out, my vision started to spin before my very eyes. I tried hard to walk straight in front of me, in the attempt to reach Jiwon-oppa who was distanced himself to have a call with my phone.

“P-please don’t call Wonjun-ssi…”. I pleaded him, tugging the fabric on his sleeve to catch his attention.

“Wonjun-ssi? Who is he?”.

“M-mana-".

“Is he your manager?”.

“N-ne..my manager-nim… I’ll be in t-trouble and I don’t want to bother him, it’s late”.

He glanced at me, furrowing his brows. It felt as if he was debating whether to help me hide this unscheduled night outing or just call Wonjun-ssi and get over it.

Lately I started to avoid riding the company’s car, I had proof they monitored me 24/7 and it bothered me so much. I was already locked up in my flat and having them control my every movement just made me feel suffocated.

“I’ll call a cab for you then, is that okay?”.

My heart overflowed with gratitude; I couldn’t believe he’d accept to do that so readily, even going to the lengths of calling himself when I could’ve done that myself.

oppa is so kind...

He probably felt pity for me, knowing how much my manager would scold me for bothering him at this hour because I was drunk.

i’m such a bad girl huhu~

sneaking out from wonjun-ssi kekeke~

chaerin-ah, look out for the new gizibe in town!

I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus on Jiwon-oppa’s figure.

“Yes, we’re in the street in front of the market”. He gave instructions on the phone.

why is everything moving in front of me?

I could swear I was standing perfectly still but, If I closed my eyes, I’d be almost sure to be the passenger on a rocky boat ride.

“A-ah!”. I tripped onto seemingly nothing and crashed against Jiwon-oppa, who immediately held onto me.

My face slammed onto his chest; I couldn’t help but inhale the musky cologne he wore, as I buried my face in his hoodie.

♥ kung kung kung kung kung kung ♥

His heart beat incredibly fast, I could hear it pounding in my ears. Anything else muted as I focused on the sound hammering in his chest.

omo? what am I doing?

why am I being like this?

i shouldn’t fall for him

don't fall for him dara.

just don’t.

I swallowed up, the soju still intoxicating my body. I knew that the liquor gave me the courage I honestly didn’t want to possess.

I hated falling so hard for him when he didn’t even look at me.

I hated the fact that he gave me courage.

don't be a fool.

The guilt I felt for making him feel uncomfortable because of my stupid feelings. But then again, why did he invite me out if he wanted to avoid me so bad?

What if he was yet another man to play with my innocence?

Guilt, sadness, rage and soju mixed up inside my stomach, coming out of my mouth as incomprehensible murmurs as I tugged on his hoodie.

I’m so foolish, please forgive me.

I’m so foolish for falling for someone who doesn’t even look at me.

“I-I’m sorry Jiwon-oppa…”. The words I locked deep down came out as I thought of them.

“W-what do you mean?”. His husky voice lurked in my ears because of our bodies being so close together.

“I’m sorry for liking you this much”.

My entire being was invested in discomfort, dizzy and dazed, my mouth moved by itself.

“I-If you don’t like me back just say it!”. I tried screaming at the top of my lungs, but the dryness in my throat prevented me from doing so. A croaky whisper came out of my lips instead, as I buried my face in his clothes even deeper, to hide my tears.

“I…”.

I slammed my fist onto his chest, one time, two times, stronger after every attempt; he did not move an inch.

“D-DON’T PLAY ME, JUST BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!”.

My fist flew in the air once again, ready to hit him out of frustration, but he swiftly blocked my arm with his right hand, holding my wrist firmly.

“w-why’d you bother me if you don’t want me...?”. I muttered under my breath.

“Stop it”.

I looked up at him, trying to find his face in the blurry mess I saw through my eyes.

“y-you s-stop playing with me…”.

My pleading was blocked by the urge to cry, tears were already spilling from my eyes, not matter how hard I tried to keep them locked away.

“That’s not it”. He stated, still holding my arm.

“THEN WHY, S-STUPID EUN CHODING! WHY WOULD-“.

Jiwon-oppa suddenly let go of my hand, pulling me into a tight embrace instead.

I could hear it again, his heart pounding like crazy, even if he looked perfectly calm.

“m-mwo…?”.

He rested his chin onto my head, caressing my back slowly, like a father that is trying to calm down his own kid.

“I’m not”. He repeated.

I broke the embrace and stepped back, still uncertain of his sincerity.

He stepped towards me, slowly, before looking away for a second and biting his lips.

what is he doing?

His hand gently cupped my cheek, his gaze slowly moving from my eyes to my scrubbed lips.

No matter how chilly that night was, his skin against mine felt feverish.

He bent down slightly, never diverting his gaze from me. His face became closer and closer towards me, I could feel his slow breathing.

[jiwon pov]

~ H O N K ~

The taxi driver honked, startling Sandara, who stepped back with her wobbly legs.

way to ruin the moment, huh?

It was fascinating how that girl made me lose control over my actions.

first, she makes me flee from the studio and then she brings me to kiss her when really, I wanted to reject her?

this girl is really something else.

I was debating myself whether it was the soju in my bloodstream moving my body or the hormones. Deep down I knew those were just petty excuses.

No matter how lonely and drunk I was, I never managed to do those sorts of things, even when beautiful women tempted me. I just couldn’t.

All I could see was Sooyeon’s face. Even quickly peeking at other women made me feel unfaithful, even after years and years had passed from our divorce, the moment our love withered.

That was the first time the memory I had of her didn’t interrupt me from getting closer to another women.

no way.

i'm fucking tipsy.

It may have been for the best. It would’ve been wrong to do anything since she was so wasted, I didn’t want to take advantage of Dara in that way.

I shook my head and walked towards the car while the driver slowly rolled down his window. Dara closely followed me, stumbling on her feet.

“Ok so this is the address-…”.

I instructed the taxi driver to take care of her until she arrived home safely, he nodded after I handed him a decent amount of money for the ride, he really couldn’t hide the joy on his face as soon as he reached for the bills.

“T-thank you… -“. Dara mumbled, looking at me with watery eyes.

“I trust you to go back home safely, can you do that?”.

“N-ne oppa”.

“Take care”.

The driver got out of the taxi to help her get into the backseat as I waved them goodbye. It was for the best, separating prevented me from doing anything I could regret tomorrow morning.

was I really going to kiss her?

what's gotten into me?

i must be crazy.

With the task at hand handled I started walking the other direction, wondering what time I’d be home.

I knew I had another day of recording ahead of me and drinking and smoking weren’t exactly the best preparations for that, added to the fact I was still in the centre of Seoul, 30 minutes away from my apartment.

I sighed as I headed towards the main street; I could stop a taxi from the side of the road because calling one wasn’t a choice. My phone was dead, that’s why I lent dara’s to call her a cab.

~ parararing parararing ~

“What?”.

I reached inside the pocket of my coat, grabbing the phone that was vibrating in it.

Manager-nim ~

7 missed calls.

this must be Dara’s phone.

sandara's phone.

ack- what a fool, I haven’t returned it yet.

“Aish- how could I forget that?!”. I panicked on the spot.

I was so focused calming her down that I totally forgot to give her back the phone.

I rushed back, hoping with all my being for the cab to still be there.

“AAAAAAAAH!”.

A terrorizing scream almost made me shit in my pants, stopping me in my tracks.

“What the hell is going on today?”. I thought to myself.

“STOP IT!”.

I quickly scanned the street for the source of noise, the sidewalk was deserted, all I could see were two figures in the distance.

oh no.

“DON’T TOUCH ME YOU PIG”.

It was Dara who was struggling, trying to take the driver’s disgusting hands off of her with all of her force.

I immediately bolted towards the piece of shit, my blood boiling with rage as I witnessed him wrapping his arms around her small figure.

“SON OF A BITCH, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?!”.

“I-I didn’t do a thing”. He excused himself, removing his claws from the poor girl after seeing me come back with such speed.

“PERVERT!”.

I was ready to make the fool spit his own blood, ignoring all of the consequences that would’ve come with that but Dara stepped back as soon as he released his grip on her body and slapped him so hard that the sound reverberated in all of the plaza, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

yeah.

i should remind myself not to make her angry.

The driver fell on his ass, his face badly distorted by the pain.

Shocked by the whole situation the coward crawled to his seat, starting the engine of his car and quickly leaving the scene, still holding his cheek in pain.

“GET LOST YOU BASTARD!”. I yelled like a crazy person, in the middle of the road, as the car drove away.

I turned my attention back to Dara, her body trembled as she hugged herself.

how could I leave her alone with that dirty ajhussi?

how could I do that?

I felt sorry for letting her go so easily, for letting her become a prey of the night. Had she been assaulted? Had she been molested? I wouldn’t had forgiven myself for being so reckless.

Dara dropped to the floor, crying her eyes out. Her sobbing only increased the guilt I felt.

“W-why do I always have to be men’s prey?...” she sniffled, uselessly trying to dry the tears that were cascading down her face.

She probably experienced that kind of harassment quite often. I could see why wolves would prey on such an innocent bunny. The fact she wasn’t great at drinking being another reason why she probably looked so appetizing to those animals.

had I payed attention…

had I been more careful.

i’ll become a lion and protect you.

no.

It’s not my business.

but it’s my fault…

I knelt to the ground to approach her, hesitating in patting her back. I sucked at comforting people.

I couldn’t believe I almost gave her away to a dirty bastard. I couldn’t forgive myself after seeing her break down like that.

“A-are you okay?!”.

She ignored my questions and rubbed her eyes only to get back up, wobbling towards the bus stop.

what is she trying to do?

“Hold up, I’ll call another taxi”.

“D-don’t, oppa”. Her voice was still so croaky for crying so much, both times being my fault.

“W-wait!”. I yelled, following her as she stumbled around.

She tripped on her feet, landing on her ass.

“I’ll go call another taxi, stay here, ok?”. I signaled her to stay where she was with my hand while I walked the opposite way.

She simply nodded.

I rushed to the main street, hoping that she’d be okay for the few seconds I felt her alone. A taxi approached me as I called one at the end of the sidewalk.

I instructed the cab driver to drive into the inner venue as he stopped his car near me to listen.

I then sprinted back to Dara, who was still sitting in the same spot I left her. I heaved a sigh of relief as she wasn’t kidnapped in that small window of time I didn’t check up on her.

“Come on up, grab my hand”. She extended her arm and grasped my palm, helping herself stand up again.

“What if it happens again?”, she whispered in my ear.

“That won’t happen”.

“H-how can you be so sure?”.

She looked at me with her swollen eyes.

“Because I’ll be right here”.

[…]

I kept attentive all the way, I couldn’t let any other accident happen. I was focused on the road, making sure we were going in the right direction when her head dropped on my shoulder suddenly.

I turned to look at her who fell asleep peacefully. I couldn’t wrap my head around how pretty she looked in such a vulnerable state. People usually look their worst when sleeping. The night lights illuminated her small and delicate face.

I spent the entire way trying to stay perfectly still, not to interfere with her nap, no matter how incredibly uncomfortable I felt in that position. That was the least I could do for her after making her experience such a terrible night.

[…]

A couple of turns and I saw the arcade on my left; that was the sign we were near her flat.

I looked back at her, it was so hard to bring myself to interrupt her serene slumber.

“…hey…we’re here”, I gently whispered while tapping on her shoulder to help her wake up.

[…]

The condo she lived in was a tall building, certainly fit to a celebrity. I lived in a similar structure too.

I fished out the keys out of her bag and opened the gate to the building, she held my arm tightly, trying hard to walk at my speed.

A tall guard stood by the door. He glared at me as he recognized Dara by my side.

The lobby looked like the entrance of a hotel: it wasn’t pretentious or decorated with statues and gold chandeliers, however I could tell each and every piece of furniture was very expensive. How? Just trust me.

If I leave her here, she’d be capable to sleep in the hallway.

She barely stood up by herself, i just couldn’t shake the guilt out of my body. I needed to take her to her bed myself. I wasn’t going to leave her alone again.

“32th floor”. She mumbled as we got into the elevator.

She kept resting her head on the wall; I could tell how exhausted she was. It was a miracle she was still standing on her own two feet. Or kind of.

The floor we landed on had a long-ass beige carpet running all through the hallway. I looked around, not sure If we were in an actual hotel or something.

my condo doesn’t look as nice as this tho.

Dara pointed at the last door on the right. She was so tired she barely opened her mouth since we hopped on the taxi.

I opened the door to her flat with the keys still in my hands.

She crawled inside, only to flop onto the floor. Carefully removing my shoes, I entered the apartment too, remembering to lock the door after me.

An herbal smell filled my nose, she probably had an aroma diffuser somewhere in the living room.

maybe I should get one too.

I turned on the lampstand beside her couch and helped her take off her sneakers, they were those kicks GD customized.

they sure are close, without a doubt.

I quietly looked around; somehow the interior of her flat perfectly suited dara’s bubbly personality. There were many cute displays and colorful frames all over the walls.

~ meeeow ~

A cat approached me, it looked more like a miniature tiger.

“You must be… what was your name again?”.

I paused, scratching my head and trying hard to remember her pet’s name.

“Dadoong-i? Was it Dadoong-i?”.

I knelt to the ground to scratch his head as he kept circling my leg, purring and meowing.

“I stole your owner for a couple of hours, aren’t you mad at me?”.

He kept purring, ignoring the conversation I was trying to have with him.

“You don’t understand me, right? It’s okay”. I chuckled by myself.

I knew it was incredibly rude of me to explore her house without her consent, but I couldn’t restrain myself from giving in to the curiosity.

What struck me the most was the presence of multiple frames which contained old photos of 2NE1. I could recognize some of the live performances they were taken at. I remember bumping into them on music show back in the day, when I still used to do the MC.

she probably misses those days.

“S-so hot…”. I heard her whining and turned my attention towards her. She was removing her jacket; the warmth of the alcohol probably giving her a hard time.

“Let me help you”.

I grabbed her jacket and laid it onto the side of her couch.

I looked back at her as she struggled to remove her sweater, the shirt underneath stuck to it revealed her fit belly and chest.

“W-WAIT!”. I stuttered, covering my eyes to give her privacy.

“I’m still here- don’t remove all of your clothes yet!”. I reminded her before she could actually strip.

She crawled towards me and started tugging on the sleeve of my coat. “… p-please bring me clothes”.

“E-eh? How am I supposed to find those?!”.

She slumped back onto the floor, ignoring my questions.

Resigned at my caretaker role I opened various doors in search for her bedroom or closet.

bingo.

I quietly entered the bedroom and scanned it thoroughly to find her dresser. I couldn’t help but notice the rabbit plushie laid on her bed.

“What was his name again?”.

I remembered from watching a couple 2NE1TV episodes on the tv back in the day, that bunny plushie was Dara’s favorite one.

I started opening every drawer one by one until I stumbled on some cute pink panties with a cartoon hippo on the front.

“Cute…”, I giggled.

I opened the next one only to find some red lace panties.

“U-urgh...”.

I felt my cheeks become red like tomatoes. I closed shut the drawer and brought my hands to my face to contain my embarrassment.

“W-what am I doing?”. I mumbled.

she’s a grown-ass woman, it shouldn’t be surprising if she wore stuff like this. right?!

does she wear this on a daily basis or for special occasions?

can it be that she-…?

I removed the coat and hoodie I wore as I felt sweat dribble from my forehead, my body was getting hot at those less than holy thoughts.

whoo.

what am I thinking?

I resumed my mission and opened the next drawer to find a bunch of t-shirts folded up neatly. I took a random one and immediately rushed back to the living room.

She extended her arm to grab the shirt.

“P-please turn around …".

I quickly faced the wall to give her the privacy to undress. I could hear her fumbling with her hoodie, her bracelets clinking as they touched the ground while she was removing her clothes sitting on the floor.

“Are you okay?”- I slowly turned around, still covering my face with my palms.

With the corner of my eyes I noticed the sexy line running down her slim back, as she was inserting her head in the large white tee I threw her a couple of seconds before.

I swallowed my saliva and shook my head to remove those thoughts from my head. It wasn’t right for me to have those kinds of thoughts. I was just tipsy. That was all.

“Are you good?”. I faced her again

She started shivering while staring at the slightly open window; the curtain was flowing because of the small breeze that the small gap let in.

I got up and calmly walked towards the window, closing it after checking the view of Seoul’s night that was hidden behind the white curtain.

so that’s what she admires every night before going to sleep…

“I shall go then-“. I hurriedly tried to get to the door.

“p-please…”.

She tugged on the leg on my pants, signaling to stay.

Taking care of others when they were drunk wasn’t my forte, it was usually the other way around. I was the heavy drinker of the bunch. I refused to take on the role of the sober friend who takes everyone home. It wasn’t my style at all.

what am I going to do?

The guilt for the taxi driver accident motivated me enough to stay and take care of her. I felt like it was all my fault: the sudden date, her getting too drunk, the disgusting pig driver. It was only right to check up on her for a while but part of me wanted to run out of the door as soon as possible.

i’m a wolf too.

this sudden urge to put my claws around you…

aren’t you scared?

can I really take care of you?

Dara kept shivering; her small figure trembled under the dim lampshade light.

I rushed to her room again, keeping my feet light not to disturb her, and grabbed the blanket at the end of her bed, kidnapping the bunny plushie in the process too.

Meanwhile, she climbed on the leather couch, struggling a bit. She curled up as I put the blanket over her. I decided to place the rabbit by her side, which she immediately hugged.

A slight smile appeared on her face as she snuggled up in her new sleeping spot. I sat at the end of the couch, right beside her. I couldn’t help but stare at the sleeping beauty, expecting her to come up with some ugly expression.

It was unreal, she was indeed too pretty to be sleeping so peacefully after drinking so many glasses of soju.

I peeked out of the window, wondering what I was going to do.

Was I supposed to spend the night there to look after her? Did I need to cook some hungover soup? We were barely friends, yet I entered her house. Wasn’t that so inappropriate?

I thought of Suwon, Jaeduck and Jaijin’s faces and immediately wanted to smash them for putting me in such a hard spot. They were the masterminds of that disastrous night.

fucking idiots.

It suddenly struck me.

“I don’t really like drinking”.

She mentioned it that day we ate tteobokki together on our YouTube date. I felt so dumb for remembering that statement a little too late.

she could’ve stopped me tho.

She never once refused a drink I poured her.

impossible.

can it be?

“Dara-yah, you didn’t have to do that…”.

I moved a rogue strand of hair that was dangling in front of her face out of the way, admiring how incredibly tranquil her expression was.

It looked as if she had no problems in the world.

That’s what I used to think before that night. A bubbly and carefree girl.

Who knew that a couple of drops of soju were able to unlock her worries and unexplored thoughts? In a night I had discovered the same things others found out in a year. She was a reserved person, just like me.

That night she made me hop a rollercoaster of mixed emotions.

what is even this girl?

I thought I had figured her out already.

She was just a talented hoobae, nothing more nothing less. I told myself not to get involved but there I was.

In her flat.

I brought both of my hand to my face, trying to make out the situation I was in.

“Ayt...”.

A deep sigh left my mouth, yet again.

i’m here just because she’s drunk.

what kind of man leaves a poor girl drunk on the streets?

It’s because she’s a girl, not because she’s dara.

of course. that’s why I’m here.

i’m not a heartless bastard.

It could’ve been anyone.

“Stop playing with me!”.

I could not remove her cries and pleading from my head. That’s why I wanted to avoid her in the first place. Not to disappoint her. I blamed those three pricks for trapping me in that situation.

She was begging me not to play with her feelings and yet I was so close to kissing her, even if I my purpose all night was to reject her.

really...what had gotten into me?

maybe i’m a bastard after all.

[...]

A ray of light shyly invaded the darkness of the living room, hitting my eyes.

I woke up, startled.

i must’ve passed out on the couch.

I rubbed my eyes, refusing to believe I had spent the entire night at my hoobae’s place.

fuck. what time is it?

I turned to my left; Dara was still sleeping peacefully.

I still had a hard time believing that the same girl who was yelling at me the night before was the same one sleeping so peacefully on the couch.

Ack-

The hangover was always the worst part of every drinking experience. My head felt a thousand pounds heavier just resting on my shoulder.

~ bzzzz bzzzzz bzzzzz ~

The loud buzzing of the doorbell ringed in my head like a tennis balls bouncing in an empty room.

I stood up and dragged my whole body to the entrance.

“DARA-SSI DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I’VE CALLED YOU? HOW COME YOU DIDN’T REPLY TO NONE OF MY CALLS-…”.

huh?

A man appeared right behind the door, his brows furrowed, creating a multitude of wrinkles on his forehead.

“And who the hell are you?!”. He shouted, expecting someone else to open the door.

I stepped outside and closed the door behind me, not wanting his yells to wake up the hungover girl still sleeping on the couch.

“Why the hell are you yelling at this hour of the day?”. I whined while checking if the hallway was empty, pretty annoyed by his sudden presence.

“I’m her manager. What are you doing in her apartment?!”.

I tilted my head at the man, who kept stomping his feet. Everything sounded muffled, as if a mine had just exploded right beside me. His words came out of my ears without being registered.

“W-what are you talking about all of a sudden?”. I blurted out.

He ignored me and proceeded to quietly opened the door; probably spying on the inside of the flat only to find Dara passed out on the couch.

“What have you done to her?”. He struck me again with a fulminating gaze but all I could do was raise my eyebrow, ignoring his banters.

He got closer to me, probably sniffing my stink of alcohol mixed with Dara’s scent, it was so strong I could smell it too.

“I KNEW IT! YOU DISGUSTING ANIMALS ALWAYS LURE HER LIKE THIS!”.

“What-“.

He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and slammed me against the door with full force.

“YOU’RE A DISGUSTING ANIMAL, LEAVE HER BE”.

“I BROUGHT HER HERE SAFELY, WHAT NON-SENSE ARE YOU SPOUTING?!”. – I defended myself.

“YOU BROUGHT HER HERE TO SATISFY YOUR DISGUSTING EGO”. The dude clenched his teeth, as the rage inside him boiled up to the limit.

“I BROUGHT HER HERE BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T WANT TO CALL YOU!”.

He slowly released his grip.

His eyes opening wide at the sudden revelation.

“W-what?”.

A look of disbelief appeared on his face as he stepped back from me.

“That’s right, why are you getting so worked up for?”.

He remained silent, still processing the information I gave him.

“Why do you care about her private life so much, anyway? Just focus on your work”.

I rolled my eyes at him, who felt betrayed by his own confidence.

“Tsk- Stay away from her”.

He shoved me aside, with his hand, making me crash against the wall on the other side.

this bastard-

He didn’t lose a second and quickly got inside the flat, locking me out of it.

this did not just happen.

for fuck’s sake.

“MY JACKET YOU BASTARD!”.

I smashed my fist onto the door repeatedly, the blood going to my head.

I dropped onto the ground as the door opened and smashed against my nose.

My coat and hoodie were thrown away out of the door.

“NOW GET LOST!”.

His annoying voice came out from behind the door before closing shut again.

p.s. this chapter is so short compared to the other ones because of me being indecisive over the plot. because of uni i’m hella busy but i’ll try to update as much as I can. thank you for being so patient, kind and also interested in my work! It’s not much but it’s fun to create something that can be enjoyable for all of you dara/jiwon/darawon stans ~

feedback is always welcome!

thanks for tuning in!

previous chapter. ⋆ next chapter. ⋆ masterlist.

#SECHSKIES #EUNJIWON #SANDARAPARK #2NE1 #FANFICTION #IMAGINE #DARAWON #YG #YGFAMILY

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Convince Me To Go {4}

AU Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Slow Burn

Words: 2.5k

Summary: When we run away, we’re usually running from something. This time you may have run toward it instead.

Note: Welp. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I hope you enjoy this.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Oh my god.” Your jaw was dropped and you were spinning around gawking at the two additional stories above you.

“Yep.”

“Oh my god. Are you serious, prince puppy?”

“As serious as bad head.” Your head snapped to him before you kneeled over and laughed your ass off.

“Oh wait, you found that funny?”

You couldn’t stop laughing long enough to get an answer out, all you could do was nod your head. He smiled and chuckled along with you.

“Oh wow, that’s—great. The last woman I told that joke to said I had a crude sense of humor, told me to grow up.”

You laughed louder and tried to catch your breath. He didn’t mind the eyes of the people as they walked around the two of you. After almost two minutes you finally stopped and stood up.

“Oh my god. Wow. I’ll tell you a secret, I love crude jokes, it’s a naughty habit.”

“Naughty? That’s what you call naughty? Wow, I think we should part ways here fancy, I think I might taint you.”

You snorted and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I can’t tell you the last time I was in a candy store.”

“This is not just any ol’ candy store. This is three levels of sugary heaven. They have every single candy under one roof,” he boasted.

“Every candy?”

“Every candy,” he confidently repeated

You looked to be contemplating something as you wandered further into the store looking around at the shelves that held different kinds of candy. You looked like a kid in a literal candy store.

“The best part is you can try every candy here, but you have to try only one piece,” he informed.

You took up one of the tongs and dipped into a clear container of pink and orange sherbet colored gobs. You placed it into your mouth and moaned.

“Oh my god, this is good. It tastes like pink lemonade and rainbow sherbet all in one.” You moaned again and he smiled and took one of the sugar balls and chewed. He nodded his agreement; you were right about the taste.

“Good taste buds.”

“Not your favorite huh.”

“Nope.” He walked off leaving you to follow behind.

“Tell you what, let’s play a game,” he suggested.

“What kind of game prince puppy?” He smiled again. You knew he must have been tired of the name and it brought you joy.

“Find my favorite candy and I’ll find your favorite.”

“Uhh—in a store of thousands of different candy?” He nodded with an even bigger smile.

“Ummm, well that sounds like torture. Why would I do that? What’s in it for me?”

“Wow, silly humans and gratification,” he teased. You rolled your eyes but smiled.

“Three guesses, the winner gets to choose what they want.”

“So anything I want?”

“If you win yes, anything within moderation. You can’t say a million dollars because honey I just don’t have that kind of cash.”

“Eh, money is overrated,” you muttered.

“Spoken like a woman who’s had too much of it her entire life.”

Your eyes locked and neither of you dared back down. After almost a minute he was the one to look away.

“So, do we have a deal?” He held out his hand and you thought about it. looking down to his hand you wanted to touch it even if you didn’t strike the deal. You bit your bottom lip and peered up into his cerulean eyes that held a hint of seductiveness and flirtation. As you stared you took his hand and shook it.

“You have a deal prince puppy.” You then walked off and carefully assessed the contents of the store. “Meet you on the top floor in thirty,” you called out over your shoulder.

He smiled warmly, he loved a challenge and you were a challenge, a mysterious challenge. As he roamed aisle after aisle he thought about your tastes all night. You liked coconut rum, a lot and just now you liked that sweet fruity candy. if he were a guessing man he’d guess you preferred things with a fruity flavor, that narrowed things down but not by much when he thought about the fact the store housed thousands of fruity choices. He wasn’t going to give up though or let on that he was a little lost. With fruity in mind, he decided hard candy was probably a good place to start, so that’s where he went.

You, on the other hand, went right to the soft candy, the chewy stuff. For some reason, you thought this was the right way to go. There was nothing from the night you could use as a good estimated guess. Gin didn’t taste like candy, it tasted like gasoline to you. His breakfast food choices didn’t give anything away either until you stopped and remembered he poured the syrup that was a mixture of two. You didn’t remember what the mixture was though. Without an idea, you perused the shelves and scanned them all thinking of what he may like.

After fifteen minutes you had two possible choices, sour candy straws otherwise known as Sour Powers, and nerds. Who didn’t like Nerds, you thought? Before you knew it your thirty minutes was almost up, and you still had one more to pick. You nonchalantly took a few pieces of the butterscotch hard candies, paid for your assortment and hurried to the top floor.

When you got there, you saw him standing there watching you climb the last step. He tapped his wrist and shook his head.

“Fuckity, fuck.” Everyone around you looked at you as if you were insane.

He let out a loud laugh that echoed throughout the floor, it was a contagious one and soon you were laughing with him. The two of you laughed as if you had not one care in the world. When you finished you slid to the floor and leaned against the glass encloser for the stair railing. He slid beside you and sighed out. “Wow.”

“It’s not my fault I’m late, I don’t have a watch and you made me turn off my phone.”

“Oh whatever, there are clocks posted around this place and you could have easily asked anyone you passed. You’re late. It’s a clear forfeit.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him. his eyes dropped to your mouth and he licked his lips. It was a nice mouth.

“Not fair prince puppy.” You pouted and crossed your arms like a child and waited for him to change his mind.

“I’m not going to change my mind. Fair is fair, fancy.”

You groaned and sighed out.

“So, I’m the winner by default,” he announced.

“You’re the winner by bullshit fine print which is technically cheating. You’re the bullshit winner.” You didn’t mean for it to sound salty, but it did, and he picked up on it and laughed again.

“Wow. You’re a sore loser.”

When you didn’t respond he caved. “Fine, I am the winner, it’s established and accepted but I do want to see the candy you picked out, go on present.”

You rolled your eyes and peeked into one of the three white confection bags you held. You decided to go with the Nerds first. He took the bag and took them out and smiled.

“Nerds, yess. I love Nerds.”

“So they’re your favorite?”

“No, not my favorite, but loved all the same.” He opened the box and took a palmful and tossed them into his mouth then moaned. “So good. It’s been a minute since I’ve had these.” He looked at the box and nodded his head before he looked to you. “What’s next?”

You handed him one of the bags without looking. When he dug in it he produced the package of Sour Power. His eyes lit up.

“No way. Do you know what these are?” You nodded and smiled at his excited demeanor.

“Oh my god, I haven’t had these since middle school. I used to bring these to trade on the playground. My dad could always get the good flavors so I’d produce them, and the other kids would give me really cool stuff in exchange. The clincher is my dad is a dentist, so he was giving me candy.” His smile was wide as he played through the nostalgia. You smiled with him and felt some sort of pull to him. Right now, he seemed relatable.

“So you were the quintessential definition of a drug dealer in middle school.”

“Drug dealer?”

“Uh yeah, drugs don’t have to be just the illegal kinds. A drug is a substance that is addictive and can cause maladaptive health concerns. So Sour Powers, diabetes, obesity, cavities, you name it. It’s the best-known gateway drug.”

He laughed loudly again, and you smiled and leaned your head back against the glass. His laugh drew tens of eyes, but you didn’t care because it was doing other things to you.

“Wow, yeah. I guess I was a drug dealer. The fluffy white stuff.” More eyes flew to you and you couldn’t help but laugh. They probably thought he was talking about cocaine.

“Not coke people, the other white stuff.” He laughed again and dropped his head onto your shoulder. The action was unexpected but not unwelcomed.

“You are a bad influence,” you added. He looked at you and you met his eyes.

“Are you complaining?” thinking about his question you looked over his face until your eyes landed on his lips. The air between you felt heavy and supercharged, almost electric.

“No,” you whispered. His eyes fell to your lips also and his head moved half an inch toward yours. It was almost missed but you caught it and the sweet smell of his breath, it smelled like the Nerds he’d just had. you knew his mouth would be sweet.

“Attention shoppers, we’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.”

With the start of the announcement the two of you pulled back and looked away until it was finished. He took a straw and held one out to you.

“Thanks.” You chewed it and savored the sweet and sour taste. You loved Sour Powers as a kid too. “I’m guessing it’s not your favorite.”

He smiled and shook his head. “No, but again, loved all the same.” you nodded feeling like you’d struck out.

“Don’t be discouraged, you have one more try. Let’s see it.” you handed him the last bag and he dug out the hard butterscotch candy. a smile tickled his lips but for the most part, he was unreadable.

“Butterscotch. Interesting choice.” He popped one in his mouth and looked off to the shoppers who walked before you. He didn’t speak again, instead, he held out one of the white bags to you. You took it and pulled out skittles. You smiled warmly.

“You seem to like fruity flavors; skittles are the epitome of fruity flavors.” You tore open the bag and dropped a few in. they were good.

“I like skittles.”

“Ah, like, not love. Okay. Next.” He handed you another bag. This time you took out a blow pop. Your eyes lit up. you loved blow pops. You ripped off the wrapper and smiled as you tasted the cherry goodness.

“Mmm, I love blow pops. My god, I used to put these in my buns going to school. At the start of the day, I’d have four and by the end, I was left with one. Lots of memories with this thing.” When you looked at him you saw his eyes on your mouth as you twirled the sweet treat between your puckered lips. You had an idea where his mind was, men were easy. Playing up the fetish you pulled the lollipop from your mouth and produced a “pop” then you stuck your tongue out and licked it. his eyebrows shot up and you caught a sultry look hidden in his eyes.

He cleared his throat and looked away and looked as if he were struggling for a minute.

“You okay?” Smiling he nodded.

“So, favorite?”

“No.” He nodded again and handed you the last bag. You held the lollipop in your mouth at your cheek and the imprint produced a bubble under your skin. When you put your hand in you took a peek and smirked. Pulling it out you held a soft caramel chew. He’d actually found it.

“Caramels.” You took the lollipop out and put one in your mouth and moaned a little too loudly and heartily. You could feel his smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen we have a winner!” he stood and did a victory dance that was atrocious. You laughed and shook your head.

“You’re ridiculous. How did you know?”

He shrugged and held his hand out for you. Taking it he easily pulled you up. “I don’t know. It—seemed right. Who doesn’t like caramels?” You smiled and sighed.

“Fine. You got it.”

“Don’t be a sore loser. You would have won too.”

Your eyes shot to his, he was smiling again like the Cheshire cat.

“What? I found it didn’t I?”

“Butterscotch.”

You grunted and pushed him. “Oh my god, I would have won anyway.”

“If only you weren’t late.” He shrugged but didn’t look as if he felt any sympathy for you.

“All right, I will take this technical lose like a woman. What do you want?”

He stared at you contemplatively for a few moments then placed another butterscotch into his mouth. “I want a new name.”

It was your turn to laugh loudly.

“Of all the things to want and get that is what you wanted the most?”

A caddish look washed over his face and he took a step to you. “What exactly did you have in mind?” You rolled your eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. You chose a new name. Okay. What name do you want prince puppy?”

“You pick it, but I have to like it.” The two of you began walking down the steps as you thought about all the possible choices.

“Candy ass?”

He snorted and laughed again. “Definitely not, there is nothing candy about my ass.”

“Hmm, Candyman?”

“No, no, no. My god, I was terrified of that movie when I was a kid,” he exclaimed.

“Oh my god, me too. That and the other one that should never be named.”

“Which one? The one with pins—”

“In his face? Yes!” He nodded along with you and you could have hugged him. No one in your circle felt the same. they just laughed and teased you about it. He was you and you were him.

You walked down the remainder of the steps in silence. When you stepped outside once again you sighed and looked at him.

“Okay, okay, okay, fine. You win. White prince.”

His eyes widened and you could have fallen to the ground laughing.

“Wow.”

“What? You wanted prince back in the bar, I gave it to you.”

“And the white part?”

“Sugar, the other white stuff.” He smiled then rubbed his bearded chin and jaw.

“Oh man. You’re not going to make this easy for me are ya?”

You looked him right into his eyes and shook your head. “I’ve never been easy, white prince. If easy is what you want, you’ve got the wrong one.” He slowly licked his bottom lip and gave you a flirtatious smile.

“Good thing I like torture.” He walked away down the street. “Come on fancy, there’s still hope.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

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TagList:

@chaneajoyyy @firedolphin04 @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @vannahvannahhh @academic-glowup @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @disneysdarlingdiva @toniilaney @areubeingserved @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @southerngracela @bellaamor88 @mack-jay@queenbetter @zaddysqueen7 @ben-wyxtt @dangerouslovefanfic @alyxkbrl @heladoom @angrybirdcr @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @twinx007 @a-dizzle777 @rynabarnesrogers

#convince me to go fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans au

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fire-emblem-drabbles · 5 years

Note

For the monster requests, what about vampire timeskip Dimitri who's been starving himself of blood or something like that?

Pairing: Vampire! Dimitri x Reader

Prompt: Vamp Dimi but is idiot and won’t drink blood

Description: Friday, September 13th, 2019. The moon is full and the evening is full of magic. And yet, you’re stuck in a basement masquerading as an Italian restaurant. As if sensing your boredom (or perhaps the lack of customers) your manager sets you free. So, in the cool air of the upcoming fall, you walk home, deciding that the gross bandage covering your unfortunate cooking cut had to go, not realizing, in the dark of night alone, you would begin to bleed. Profusely. Still at least a half-mile from home and all alone in the dim light of a street post all you can do is attempt to stop the bleeding lest if get all over you and your uniform…

Content Warning: Vampires, blood drinking, mentions of stalking/attacking, dubious consent (I swear this is cute though)

Rating: sfw

Word Count: 2090

Notes: Me, walking home from work today: Damn how tragic that a mysterious, attractive vampire isn’t here to help me deal with my bleeding thumb. also me, now galaxy brained: Hey wait a fucking minute

Oh before I forget if anyone cares for it I might make a part two bc ya girl is always touch starved!!!

Edited: 6/7/21; holy shit I’m so glad I don’t work there any more lmao

_______________________________________________________________

“Just when I thought this night couldn’t get slower,” You sighed, looking down at the tablet before you. It was hardly even 9 pm yet you barely had any reservations left at the restaurant despite it being a Friday. At this rate, your manager was going to cut someone loose soon; either you, or your co-worker.

“Oh, hey John” You looked up as your co-worker greeted your manager.

“Hey you two,” He grinned weirdly wide for the situation. “It’s pretty slow right now, so it looks like one of you is free to go,” He smiled and watched as the two of you looked at one another.

“Ahh well, I don’t have many hours this week…” She frowned. You nodded, remembering earlier in the evening she had explained needing to pay for court fees.

“Ah damn, guess its me then.” You frowned but weren’t all that upset. You would have loved more hours but if someone had to leave you would take it.

“Cool, cool!” Your manager grinned. “You’re free to go then, _____, enjoy your evening.”

“I’ll try” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. It was a nice evening out but you would have to walk a little over a mile home by yourself. You hummed softly to the cheesy old pop music, going about clocking out and gathering your things to leave. Your roommates were busy tonight and the bus would be at least another half hour, so it looked like you were walking home this evening.

Finally out the door after giving your goodbyes, you supposed it could be worse; autumn was coming, offering its cool evening wind to the word and you could feel the magic in the air. The moon was full and bright as you stepped up and out of the basement the restaurant you worked at up to the busy plaza around it. It was a Friday night after all, a special one though, since it was Friday the 13th! People seemed cheerful to be out on such a pleasant evening and you decided if you had to walk any day, you were glad it was this one.

The walk went about as it usually did for the first half, you keeping to yourself as you walked out of of the busy plaza towards the apartments outside of it. Your left thumb pulsed, sending you an unfortunate reminder of the cooking accident you had yesterday; while cutting potatoes for homemade chicken noodle soup you were careless and sliced right into your thumb. Luckily, none of it got on the food and you ended up being fine but it was deep enough and on a weird part of your thumb that band-aids usually couldn’t stop the bleeding alone and felt weird on it. Not only that, it made I hard to text or play games. With much joy, you realized now that you were off work, you could rip the weird blue bandage that covered it off. So you did just that, ripping it off and throwing it in the nearest trash can. You walked a bit longer, where the streetlights got further between one another and the roads a little quieter. It was then, you realized, your thumb had decided to bleed; profusely at that. With a sigh, you held the offending digit in your mouth as you dug through your purse, stopping under a street light to find the tissues you kept in there. With one hand it was hard to look and even harder to dig it out but eventually you did, wrapping the tip of your thumb and around with the tissue and applying pressure with your pointer, hoping to stop the bleeding. While you did get it squared away eventually it refused to stop bleeding; you weren’t too worried about it, it would have to soon enough but it was sure annoying to keep the pressure on it. Bleeding while walking alone on a Friday evening wasn’t your idea of fun. Still, you marched on in hopes of reaching your apartment to properly take care of this stupid cut.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t quite alone this evening. Ever since you had begun bleeding he had been following you. Stalking you. He knew better than to attack some poor defenseless human; he had sworn to himself never to do it again. But dark forces were at work tonight; the pull of the full moon, the magic of Friday the 13th and you, stumbling down the street bleeding and none the wiser. It all worked against him and Dimitri couldn’t help himself as he slinked ever closer towards you looking for the opportune moment to strike.

You were in that little gap of darkness between streetlights, where anything could happen. No cars lit you up and no sound broke the slight tapping of your shoes against the concrete. You lifted your hand and paused a moment, hoping that your thumb had stopped bleeding. To your great chagrin, it had not and was, in fact, bleed more than it usually did when you upset it. With a sigh, you lifted your hand preparing to press your thumb your lips, preparing to keep your thumb in your mouth while you once again dug for your tissues. But you never got that far because your wrist was caught in someone’s hand. Your breath hitched as you were pulled against something solid, yet cold. A chest, you could infer, because soon after a sultry voice was whispering in your ear.

“Forgive me for what I’m about to do,” You were left unable to reply as you were spun to face your assailant; the light from the streetlamp behind you did little to show his features, merely crown his tall figure in a glow of old yellow light. He was blonde you could see, his hair up in some sort of half ponytail. Unable to fight his strength and finding yourself unable to scream you could only gape in shock as he lifted your hand, now dripping with your blood as you left your cut uncovered, and licked the blood freely flowing down your palm and the side of your thumb. He licked the cut and an involuntary shiver went through you as your eyes met; strangely, you noted he wore an eye patch. After that unprompted lick, he spoke once more, keeping your gaze as he spoke again. “May I… continue?” There was a hunger in his gaze, a look in that one baby blue eye you couldn’t say no too. Not trusting your voice to stay steady in this situation, you merely nodded dumbly watching in amazement as he held your hand to delicately and brought your thumb to his lips. His gentle touch was in stark contrast to the grip he had on your hip, holding you snug against him as he did… whatever it was he was doing. The situation was beyond strange, you had to admit but a strange sense of euphoria washed over you as this even stranger man drank your blood. Soon, the long moment passed and with a small hiss as his lips rose, you realized that where your cut was was clean. The only thing that remained was a strange, warm feeling and a little pink scar where it once was.

“Uhh,” The words lamely left your mouth as you looked from your hand back to the man, who was licking his lips and trying his best to look like he wasn’t blushing. Vaguely, you got the sense you knew what was happening here but not wanting to seem or sound as crazy as you felt you stayed silent, hoping your assailant, err companion? Whoever he was, you hoped he would have some sort of explanation. Things were too crazy for you right now and rather than dig yourself deeper into the pit you were in you stood silent, watching the many emotions pass through his face.

“I…” His voice was so soft, so low, it was hard to catch even in the still of the night. “I apologize, I was so rash and I-I…” The blush on his face seemed to deepen, for reasons unfathomable to you but you dared not question them. Despite not trying to be intimidating, due to his sheer size and power you were effectively intimidated and let him continue. “I shouldn’t have done that and yet… I find I cannot stop.” He brought your hand he still held to his cheek, pressing it against his cold skin. It was funny how the most intimate you had been with someone was a mere stranger but you supposed nothing bonded two people together like bloodletting in the city suburbs.

“I’m sorry but… I’m so lost…” You hadn’t even noticed your free hand was trapped between the two of you until now, curling loosely against his nice dress shirt.

“I… am Dimitri,” Lovely, if you ever got out of this situation you could tell the police the name of the attractive man who drank your blood and stole your heart. “And I… normally don’t do this but tonight just made the perfect storm for me to come and…” He shivered at the thought of his own actions “…attack you.” He shook his head, looking distraught. “Even now, the taste of your blood stains my tongue, the smell of you burns my nose…” Dimitri leaned in as if to confirm this, his lips hovering just above the junction of your neck and shoulder “Please, stop me.” His words were so low. You held your breath, unsure what to do, what to say.

“V-vampire?” The word tumbles out of your mouth, uneven and rough. He sharply pulled back and you gasp, looking at his face once more.

“Are you that surprised?” His smile was wry, his chuckle dry.

“Right, right,” You didn’t know what you were doing or why but you laughed awkwardly, using your free hand to brush back some of your bangs in any attempt to find some control in this situation. “I’m uh, _____.” You added, suddenly unable to look his way. He still held you close, as if he didn’t know any better or any other way. “So um… I’m guessing you err, didn’t get your fill?” You smiled but Dimitri was quick to notice it was forced.

“Don’t feel obligated to me out of fear.” He frowned and made move to let you go but decided against it and decided to instead give you a small squeeze. “What I did was wrong and should be treated as such…” You cut him off.

“No I… don’t think its that.” You frowned, a blush covering your face as you come to terms with the real reason you wanted this to continue. “It’s just um… well, it feels nice. You feel nice holding me.” The both of you stared at one another wide-eyed, shocked at the words that left your mouth. “And um well, you know… it’s dangerous for a girl to be walking alone at this time of night.” You giggled a bit. “So… maybe you could help me home and in return, we could do this in a more comfortable setting?” Once more shocked, it took Dimitri a moment to process the words you said and even longer to find a proper reply to them.

“You… want me to walk you home?” He said softly.

“And come in, if you’d like.” You smiled.

“After what I did…” he began but you stopped him.

“Well, you actually helped me.” You laughed. “That cut was super annoying at best and now that it’s gone I feel a lot better.” You smiled warmed him possibly more than the first taste of your blood did. “So, help me again… and maybe I can help you in return?” You said. Dimitri wasn’t one to simply let a woman go when she asked for his help but he still felt wrong you were so freely offering him what he had long since denied himself. “Please?” The hand you had pressed against his chest fell as he went to move away but he paused at your mumbled please, giving you the chance to catch his hand in your own.

“I… suppose that would be alright.” Dimitri had blushed countless times this evening but not so much as he was now as you lead him down the darkened street towards your apartment. The night was still young and he didn’t know what it would hold but he found that for once, he was looking forward to this.

#dimitri x reader #feh #fe3h #dimitri #vampire dimitri #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #yes I have been writing this all night #it had to be tonight!!#and yes most of this is just #what I did tonight lol #my thumb is... still bleeding on and off :(#dimitri come save me #anyways I cut it cutting potatoes yesterday #anyways take this #its fucking bed time bitches I have work tomorrow #at like... 5 pm but go off

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