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chrisevansmaid · 3 years

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Virginal

Summary: You go to a beach town in search of losing your virginity. The server at dinner is extra cute but it's also young Chris evans.

*this pic is from chris’s twitter*

MUST BE 18+!!!!

I see everyone saying this, so 18+ pleaseeeee. Begoneeeee youngins

Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader, Young!Chris Evans x minor!reader, (Name inserted but you can switch it to yours)

Word Count: 3393

Perspective: Reader

Warnings: SMUTTT, p in v, mentions of smoking weed / dab pen, oral sex (female receiving), FLUFF AND ANGST, high sex, lowkey rough sex, dirty talk, degrading dirty talk, EXPLICIT sexual content, age gap, minor having sex with non-minor (17F with 20M),

Authors note:

FIRST FIC YAY!!!!!! Don't be mean pls <3.

I’m really bad at tenses so if it keeps switching from present to past tense sorry. The only grammar corrector I’m using is grammarly so if something doesn’t make sense oopsie, I’m too lazy from spending a while on this fic to go anal and analyze every sentence for errors.

Okay so… I’m a pisces which basically means I can never stop daydreaming. Also the backstory is lowkey gonna be my backstory lol. This is how I wished I lost my virginity plus make it Chris evans.

*THIS IS NOT BASED OFF OF CHRIS ITS FULLY FROM MY IMAGINATION*

Idk I'm bored and it's summer so I have nothing to do. YES THIS IS ABOUT A MINOR BUT IN MY STATE THE AGE OF CONSENT IS 16 SO CHILL.

18+ PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR

So I’m a virgin. Not because I am a prude or anything, but it never worked. I like to self diagnose so my conclusion is I have vaginismus. That is basically rolled into my cervix/vagina clenches up whenever I try to have sex so no dick fits in and if anything does fit it's incredibly painful. It's not a matter of being turned on cus I could have Niagara Falls in my panties and it still wouldn’t work, trust me. Even being fingered was awful and I’ve been fingered like 10 times and none of them were enjoyable. My sister says I’m just really tight. Idk. I can finger myself and it's good-ish, I mean how far up can you reach with your own hand?

But I’ve had enough of being a virgin and I just want someone to blow my back out. Preferably some sexy older guy. And because I’m sick and tired of having an untapped pussy I’ve devised a plan. I am going to the beach in a week or so and I am going to find the guy who I had my first kiss with and have him fuck me. Or some other hot guy I meet. But to make sure my inhibitions are lowered and my vagina doesn’t clench from nerves I am gonna get a little high before.

1 week later.

My mom, stepdad, and I arrive at the beach and it is so pretty. I love this beach. It brings back so many good memories. I am rooming with my childhood friend, Sarah, and she knows I want to get fucked. We’ve snuck out before and we are so excited for this week. I take a picture of the beach and put it on my Snapchat story with my location tagged. This will let my first kiss know I’m near him so he can hit me up to fuck me.

The day goes by kinda slow because all I could think of was walking up and down the boardwalk trolling for hot men. Finally, night comes and all the families that are at the beach go to dinner. I was kinda bored but then our server came. He was something else.

“Hi my name’s Chris and I’ll be your server tonight.” Ugh. Even his voice made my whole body warm up. His greenish blue eyes stared into my soul as he took my order. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed and the way his black shirt hugged his biceps was absolutely sinful. Okay yes, he was probably in his early twenties but who said I was ageist. If anything an older man would know how to fuck a woman better than any stupid high school senior that I would meet.

I got up to go to the bathroom and saw Chris on my way. We locked eyes and didn't break contact until I went into the bathroom. As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him again. It looked like he was waiting for me. His body was leaned up against the wall across from the bathroom I had just exited. He stopped me and said “Call me.” and handed me a piece of paper. Before I had a chance to say anything he turned and I was watching his perfect ass walk away.

I went back to the table as if nothing happened. I don’t think anyone noticed my uncontrollable smile. Throughout the dinner, I could not tear my eyes away from our sexy server. I think Sarah noticed but I was gonna tell her about it when my parents weren’t right there. We finished dinner and all went back to the beach house. When we got back I told Sarah and she was so shook. We were racking our brains on what I should text Chris. I didn’t want to come off too strong but also I wanted this man to fuck me. So we settled on:

“Hey”

Yes. I know it's lame but he’s older defffffinitely older and I can’t act too young. Ugh, I am so scared of his response it's absolutely killing me. Sarah, two other girls that came to the beach, and I decide to go out for ice cream. At least ice cream would take my mind off waiting for a response. As we wait in line I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s Chris.

“I thought I told you to call me” His response is very bold but for some reason, it only intrigues you more. Immensely more. I show Sarah and she smiles.

“Guess who’s getting her wish tonight.”

“Oh my god,” I respond. “What do I say?” I am literally so scared that he will think I’m too young or too much of a child.

“Um, don’t say anything. Call him.” Sarah says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Do I actually call him? I’m literally getting the worst knots in my stomach and now I have to shit and I’m literally so nervous over a phone call. I am not a spontaneous person. AT ALL.

“Okay, I’m gonna call him.” I say to Sarah after literally pondering this for 5 minutes.

Oh god. This is so scary. I tell Sarah to get me a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and I step out of the line. I go to the walkway near the ice cream shop away from the crowd so I can hear better. I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.

It rings like 3 times and he picks up.

“Hey.” He says and his voice is even sexier than I remember.

“Hey.” I literally didn’t know what to say and I am pacing up and down the sidewalk.

“So you must be the hot girl I gave my number to.”

“And you must be the sexy server.” Some wave of confidence came over me and that was the best response I could come up with.

“So what’s your name?”

“Olivia and if I remember correctly, your name is...” I paused to let him fill in the blank

“Chris.”

“Chris, that's right.” I wanted to come off like I didn’t hang onto every word he said and so I played it off like his name wasn’t already filling my fantasies.

“So Liv, when am I gonna see you again?” He asks and this caught me a little off guard that he would jump straight to the point but I guess why prolong the inevitable.

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“Can I pick you up tonight around 12?” Ugh yes. My plan was filling out nicely.

“Sounds great.” I mean what else am I supposed to say?

“Send me where you’ll be and I’ll pick you up then.” His assertive tone was a panty fucking dropper.

“Okay. See you then Chris.” I’ve picked up from my previous male experiences that if you say a guy's name he’ll be more inclined to fuck you. I mean I totally pulled that out of my ass but I wanted to sound like a confident vixen, not some 17 year old virgin.

“Bye Liv.” The way he made up a nickname for me had me reddening in my cheeks and warming in my core. I say bye and hang up. As soon as the call ends I’m running back to Sarah and telling her every little detail. Okay, I really needed to get back home and shit.

Sarah, the other girls, and I go back to the house and hang out for like an hour, and then it’s 11 and all the parents are asleep. I need to start preparing. So I take a phat shit and then shower even though I showered before dinner but I need to wash off my nervous sweats. I shave everywhere and when I get out I lotion my entire body, put on my sexy lingerie, and douse myself with perfume. I do my makeup but it’s simple and of course waterproof. I text Chris the address of the beach house but tell him to pick me up a couple houses down. I tell Sarah she needs to sneak out with me so if we get caught I can pretend me and her were just hanging outside the house. Sarah and I sneak out the back and bring her cart. I take a couple hits to calm myself down because god forbid I tense up before he can get his dick in. It's like 11:55. God my stomach is in knots.

It’s 12. ‘Oh god’ I think to myself. I see a white range rover pull up at the end of the block. I say bye to Sarah and walk to the car. I see his face. Oh, fuck still sexy. I open his car door and jump into the passenger seat.

“Hey.” I say

“Hey, Liv.” He says back. Him saying that little nickname he gave me is so much hotter in person. So so so much hotter. I think he knows what it does to me because his lips curl into a smirk. “Let’s go for a drive.” Chris says.

“Okay, I’m down.” I say back and kinda rethinking saying ‘I’m down’ because he is definitely rethinking how old I am.

We start driving around and talking and thank god the radio is on to fill any silence there could be. It’s on the country station and him liking country music is literally another added bonus. Then When it Rains it Pours comes on and I say “Omg I love this song.”

“Really?” He says back. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you that actually likes country music.”

“Are you kidding? I love country music.” I say back not noting he just called me pretty. We mindlessly chat for like 20 minutes and Chris pulls the car into an empty parking lot that overlooks the whole beach town.

“This is so pretty.” I say in awe of the gorgeous view. I can see from the corner of my eye that Chris is just looking at me.

“Not as good as my view.” He says back in a soft tone that has me melting to the floor of the car. I look back at him and we sit in silence just staring into each other's eyes. I glance at his lips and they look so kissable. They are the perfect amount of plump without being too big. When I look back to his eyes he is still staring at me. His lips almost form a smile and he grabs and cheek and kisses me. It’s even better than each and every one of my fantasies. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him even harder back. Before I know it the kiss gets more rushed and Chris is running his hands along the curve of my back. Our lips are crashing into each others with fervor like no other. He pulls me into his lap and he ruts his hips upward. He takes his left hand and moves the seat back and starts kissing down my neck. His lips leave little bite marks and he reaches my bosoms. He pulls my tank top down and pulls my breasts out of my bra and sucks on my right nipple as he pinches the left. Soft mewls leave my lips and he stops to look at me and the rush of cold air sends goosebumps across my skin. He leans up and kisses my neck and leaves marks all the way to my ear lobe and whispers “Before I fuck you until you can’t remember your name, How old are you?”

Forming words is harder than I imagined so between pants I say back “17.”

“Perfect” he whispers back while still biting my neck. “Come here” he says as he opens the door. I hop off him and outside the car and see the tent forming in his pants. He picks me up and wraps my legs around him and pins me against the car door. He bites my lip and I can’t imagine anything better than this moment. While still mounted on his he opens the door to the backseat and lays me down. He gets on top of me and shuts the door behind him. He ruts against my core and his jeans rub against the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. Although my mind is completely fixed on his engorged cock a thought forms in my mind. What if he thinks I’ve done this before? What If I’m so bad he doesn’t even speak to me again? These thoughts completely cloud my mind and Chris notices.

“What's wrong?” he says as he pulls away. I glance at his bitten lips and pant trying to form words.

“Nothing just, I... I’m a virgin.” I blurt out. I am so scared I ruined the moment but his expression only intensifies.

“Oh well we just can’t have that now can we?” He says back and his lust blown pupils grow darker and he kisses me with such intensity my thoughts completely leave my mind. I could get drunk off the taste of him. Chris breaks the kiss and rips off his shirt showing his perfectly chiseled abs. I felt them through the cotton but seeing them right in front of my eyes makes my mouth open. My lips peak into a smile and he picks me up and places my back closer to the car door. He rips off my shorts and starts kissing down my neck to my navel and I run my fingers through his hair. My chest rises and falls quicker as his lips reach my red lace covered mound. His teeth grab the waistband and he pulls off my panties.

He inhales and says “So sweet.” His husky voice vibrating against my core. His kisses dance around my thighs. As more sounds leave my mouth Chris bites my skin. His hands hold my legs open as he licks down my folds. His tongue flickers across my clit leaving me trembling. I had never felt this way from anyone ever. My fingers run through his short dirty blonde hair and my nails dig into his scalp leaving crescent shaped indents. He slips his middle finger through my folds as he sucks on my clit. His fingers curl up hitting a spot I never knew existed. A feeling in my stomach starts intensifying and spreading through my entire body and I tremble in euphoria. Chris finger fucks me through my first ever orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly and when I open them Chris is staring right at me. I grab the hair on the nape of his neck and pull him back up to kiss me. I can taste myself still on his tongue as the material of his jeans rubs against my sensitive bud. His fingers pinch my nipples as he slips his tongue between my lips. I reach down and feel his throbbing cock through his pants. As I rub with the palm of my hand, throaty moans leave his mouth. Nothing was stronger than my desire to be fucked raw by this sex god. I pulled away from the kiss and say as I stare deep into his eyes “Fuck me Chris.” My words are efficacious to him.

He licked his lips like an animal locked onto his prey. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulls down his jeans and takes his cock out of his boxers. I have seen a dick before but never that big. My mouth almost dropped to the floor. He pulled a condom out of the back of the seat and wrapped it around his cock. He pumped his dick a few times before running the head along my sodden folds. “You ready?” I had never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Unable to form words I nodded my head. Chris pushes his cock into me slowly. I gasped at the feeling. I wasn’t as tight as I usually was but it still stung. Each inch stung a little more until he bottomed out into me. He stilled. His breath was hot on my ear as our breathing synced. I gasped again as he pulled his hips back. I reached down and pulled him back into me.

“Don’t hold back.” I said. I wanted this to be as enjoyable for him as it was for me. Chris pulled out and thrust back into me again. The groans that left this throat made my pussy clench around him. He picks up his pace and pain turns into pleasure. My legs wrap around his thighs and I’m pulling him into me.

“You dirty little slut. So needy.” He whispered into my ear. The sound that escaped my lips drew him deeper in like a moth to a flame. Chris drives his cock into me faster so that all you can hear is breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chris moves his hand to my throat and squeezes. I try to moan but they catch in my throat and I look back at Chris. His mouth is agape and he is staring deep into my eyes. He thrusts so deep my eyes roll back and I have to shut them. He grabs my chin and pulls my face to meet his. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see your face as I make you cum on my dick.” His cock is hitting places he didn’t even reach when fingering me. Another orgasm rips through me and my body trembles harder this time. Chris fucks me through my orgasm and just as I regained my mental awareness I could feel another one coming on. Chris squeezes harder on my neck as he sucks on my hardened nipples. He bites my skin and takes his hand from my neck and reaches between our sweaty writhing bodies and pinches my clit. A guttural moan leaves my throat as another excruciatingly intense orgasm takes over my entire body. I can tell Chris isn’t far behind because his thrusts become sporadic and he puts all his body weight into his last thrust and stills. The noises he makes me wish he was still fucking me. He leans down to meet my lips once again but this time it is slower and more gingerly. He pulls his dick out and lays down on top of me.

We catch our breaths and I say. “Wow, that was.. fuck.”

Chris softly laughs and says “Who knew a 17 year old could have me in the palm of their hand.”

“Who knew a however-old-you-are would take my virginity.” I say with a smile on my face.

“I’m 20, I probably should have told you earlier.” He says looking a little guilty.

“Don’t worry it would have only turned me on more.” I laugh back and our lips join in a soft kiss.

Chris and I look at the dashboard and see it's 1:30 am. “Shit I should probably get home before my friend worries too much.” I say looking back at Chris and he nods. We sit up and reach down for our clothes. I reach for my underwear and Chris snatches it from my hands.

“These are mine now.” Chris smirks.

“Fine.” I put on my shorts and pull my top back on. Sadly Chris covers his humongous biceps with his shirt. I lean in and meet Chris with a kiss. We get back into our respective seats and Chris looks at me with a dumb smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” I say with a giggle.

“Oh, nothing.” Chris says and his smile only looks more like a 6 year old who just stole a cookie before dinner. I mean technically he did just steal something but that's beside the point. Chris puts the car back into drive and turns around to back up.

As he drives me home there's more small talk but then he asks “How long will you be in town?”

“A week,” I say. Chris’s dumb smile returns. “Okay, what's that smile for?”

Chris looks at me and says “I’m just excited to fuck you every night this week.”

#chris evans #cevans #firstfanfic #yay #excited #chris evans fanfc #chris evans x reader #young chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #smut #fluff #beach #stranger smut

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phantomphangphucker · 3 years

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Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger). Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

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imjeralee · 3 years

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i request that you drink plenty of water and take care of yourself !!! ·o·b after thats done, came i pretty please get headcanons with link, Kaeya and maybe Childe about an s/o who draws them one day as a confession and gives it to them? :) (maybe they already knew and saw them drawing them before ? who knows) thank you in advance!!

Thank you anon! *looks at cup of green tea beside laptop* yep I think i’m doing well in keeping myself hydrated recently hehe but thank you :3

Anyway please see below for the ask! (it’s pretty long)

Link

He was grooming one of the ponies when he saw you standing behind a tent peeking at him curiously and when he turned round properly, you quickly scampered away and he got worried so he followed you to the room you share to see you sitting on the bed with a wine red book propped up in your lap but upon his return, you immediately hid it behind your back, smiling widely at him

He wonders what it was but decides not to pry, but he later discovers it was actually a sketchbook when he’s packing up for tomorrow and you’re taking a bath and the sketchbook drops out of your pack and onto the floor, opening at a random page

He picks it up with the intention to return it to your bag but then he sees the various drawings of him in his Ancient Armour set, Hylian and Snowquill set. They’re fully coloured and it looks like you’ve spent hours on them. He didn’t know you were this artistic and wondered why you hid this from him

The date you wrote on the bottom of the page indicates that you drew all this in one day! He’s super impressed

Then he sees the note you wrote below: “To my Dearest Link, I hope you like my drawings of you. All I can think about is how lucky I am to be able to be by your side, you’ve changed my life for the better and-”

Obv half complete so now he knows why you didn’t want to show him and he respects your privacy, so he puts the sketchbook away

Outside, he sees Beedle and goes over to see what’s new for sale. Beedle has some cool art stuff (well, it’s more like stuff that can be used for dye but can also be used as paint) so he buys some for you as a present which he will give to you later.

Next day, you get chased by a group of Bokogoblins and the book and all your drawing supplies drops out from your bag.

You didn’t see it drop and returned to the stable, ransacking your bag like crazy only to find your stuff missing

When you realise everything must have dropped out when you got chased, you quickly leave the stable to go back to the area but it’s thunder and lightning so Link chases after you

“Link, what are you doing? Go back, the weather’s awful.” You tell him but he shakes his head, unable to leave you alone in the rain like this

He helps you with your search and you end up locating your book and your supplies which are lying in the mud

The book has been trampled over and some of the pages have been torn out. The remaining pages are soaked with dirt and grime. Your pencils are snapped in half and your paints have been left to bleed all over the grass. All of your drawings are ruined, too. This is your worst nightmare.

Link observes you silently as tears begins to form in your eyes and you look at him, sniffling slightly.

You’re experiencing a mixture of devastation, frustration, anger and exasperation - from your carelessness to the stupid bokogoblins - and this incident infuriates you so much you throw the book to the ground angrily

Before you can march away, Link grabs your wrist

Turning round, your gazes meet and he looks at you softly, intently.

‘What’s wrong?’ he is saying.

“I was going to use those to confess to you!” you end up roaring out by accident.

Link looks at you, a little stunned

“N-Never mind! Everything’s ruined!!!!”

You’re about to storm off again when Link suddenly pulls you into his chest and gives you a hug

“!” you’re so shocked you can’t speak

He pulls away though, and leads you to the hollow of a nearby tree trunk where he gestures for you to sit down to shelter from the rain whilst he glances around, then sprints back over to where the ruined sketchbook is

He picks it up and holds it against his chest as if it’s dear to him. That’s not all, you watch as he begins to pick up the remaining pages that were torn out and once he’s collected them all he returns to you, clutching the pages tightly

"Link...” you murmur breathlessly as he he kneels down in front of you before he fishes around in his pockets to reveal a random bunch of paint pots in his hand.

You’re a little confused, but realise he has some spares which he must have bought from a merchant

it’s not much but...

he nudges it to you for your offering

You gawp at him for a few moments before you smile and chuckle and upon seeing you back to your usual self again, Link smiles and helps you back onto your own feet to stand

You thank him as you cradle the paints to yourself. You will need to restart from scratch from somehow it feels ok and something tells you you don’t need to hide it from him anymore

And you return to the stable, sheltering from the rain by sharing a large leaf together

Kaeya

Let’s begin with the fact that alongside you, there is a maid who also likes Kaeya as much as you do and she’s a bit of a sneaky bugger and you don’t show your drawings to anyone or watermark your artwork until they’re complete. You can probably see where this is going

One day, Kaeya finds out you are drawing a picture of him when he comes to your office to inform you that there’s a group of abyss mages outside Mondstadt so you hurry off to dispatch it and leaving Kaeya in your office

He accidentally comes across your drawing when he sees his face on a piece of parchment and his interest is piqued so he heads over to check it out

It’s a really good sketch!!! the amount of detail is insane! he had no idea you possessed such skill and who knew that you could create such beautiful art like this? He also finds some rough doodles and sketches you made earlier on some scrap paper you had also written on so he knows it’s you

Anyway, he puts everything back to join you in battle, but not before passing a maid along the way who is heading to your room to clean up

She comes across your drawing and she’s always fancied Kaeya herself, so for some reason other than just thinking she might be able to get away with it if she’s sneaky enough, she takes your drawing and sets off with it

Meanwhile, you return to your room after the battle, take off your coat and sit comfortably in your chair, reaching for your quill

“Ah, time to get back to my drawing of Kaeya.” you say with a smile, looking at your desk.

Wait a minute.

Something is wrong.

Very wrong.

It’s GONE!

After checking the rest of your office (and its clearly not there), you rush outside, wondering what happened to it when you see Kaeya and a maid talking in the corridor

they didn’t see you, so you quickly hide

“Please accept this, captain Kaeya!” gushes the maid, presenting your drawing to him. “I drew this picture of you to show how much you mean to me.”

What in the Samachurl shit is this?

You’re about to storm over when Kaeya takes the drawing with a delicate brow raised, studies it intently and goes, “Oh? But I’m not so sure about that.”

“W-what do you mean, Captain Kaeya?”

“There’s no watermark on it,” he points out, “....one could’ve taken anyone’s artwork and claim that it’s theirs.”

“T-That’s - ! Ah, Captain Kaeya, h-how could you think so lowly of me?”

“I’m only just stating some simple facts, that’s all. You won’t hold that against me, will you? And I’m certainly not accusing you of anything...unless you...?”

“Oh....uh....I...I-I’m so sorry, Captain Kaeya, you’re right! I-I....please excuse me!”

The maid’s too embarrassed to proceed any further and leaves, running away.

Indeed, what in the samachurl hell had just happened?

It goes quiet and you wonder if he’s still there; you step out of your hiding place only to go nose-to-chest with Kaeya.

He greets you with a smirk. “if it isn’t the little kitten, what are you doing here?”

“Um...uh, I....that....that drawing - “

What he said is right, there’s no watermark. How can you prove it’s yours? Would he believe you if you told him?

“Hm? Ah, yes, this drawing. I was going to keep it for myself.”

“No, wait! I mean...er...it’s not finished yet-”

“So you drew this then?”

“Yes, I did. it was me.” Though you wonder if he would believe you after everything you had just heard.

“Why?”

You lamely tell him you really like him and wanted to use it to confess to him.

He watches you for a few seconds, then hands the drawing to you. “I’ll wait until you’ve finished then.”

“Huh?” You gasp. He gave it back to you so easily despite what he said to the maid! “You...you’re not-”

“I knew it was you who drew it. I recognised your style.”

“Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“If I said so earlier, how else would I get you to confess to me?”

“KAEYA!!!”

(from then on he’ll want you to draw him more often)

Childe

Saw you sitting on the grassy hill near Qingxu Pool drawing earlier and because he is good at sneaking up on people, you didn’t hear him as he casually leaned over to peek over your shoulder and said, “Hey girlie, what’re you up to?”

You’re like “UWAGH!” and quickly close your sketchbook before turning round to see Childe.

“N-nothing!” you exclaim, before you get up and run down the hill, leaving a very amused Childe on his own

Later, when you’ve finished your masterpiece, you nervously approach Childe and tell him, “Um....this is for you, let me know what you think.” before rushing off in a blushing mess and Childe will open the sketchbook to see that you’ve drawn a very nice portrait of him in a battle stance, wielding his bow, surrounded by his hydro blades

Childe stands, staring at the picture

Then he sees the words ‘do you like me?’ scribbled at the very bottom

Childe staring hard now

He’s used to giving people gifts but now that he’s received something so thoughtful, he’s a bit overwhelmed. he can tell you put so much effort and hardwork into this. Ah, what is this feeling?

He closes the book without further ado and scrubs a hand over his face

he actually wasn’t expecting you to do this. he knew you were drawing him but the result is really....something else

You don’t hear him from Childe in a few days and you are so nervous and worried.

Is this a rejection? Maybe he didn’t like your picture after all...

You’re walking in the streets and sigh and sit on the stone steps of Liyue, staring at the sea, upset and dejected

But then you hear a whistle from behind and throw a glance over your shoulder to see Childe standing on a higher step, a hand in his pocket

“Hey girlie, heads up,” he tosses a paper plane into the air which makes this little loop before you stand to catch it

Looking up, Childe has gone

You unfold the paper plane to its proper size to reveal that Childe’s drawn a little sketch of you in return and he has written: ‘Yes I do’.

294 notes · View notes

matryosika · 3 years

Text

shoot me, chapter IV

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV

word count for this chapter — 4.5 k

warnings — masochism, choking, thigh riding, marking, humilliation, daddy kink, mild praising, kind of harddom!changbin, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of ownership and possessiveness... i think that's it!

note — i have so many ideas in my head that i think i'm failing to land on this series but today i decided to change the dynamic of the chapter a little bit and make the first part of it from changbin's kind-of-perspective so you could understand what's going on behind the actions of the man himself. the whole chapter is filthy smut honestly, i hope you enjoy it tho!

taglist: @cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh

[12:17 a.m. Changbin]

i don't think we should to that again

it was a mistake

i just needed to vent but honestly, getting with you can really damage my future and that's not something i'm willing to jeopardize for sex.

the dark-haired man held his phone to his chest as he thought about the words of the message that he just sent you.

it wasn't a lie though, the fact that he was afraid to fuck up his future for a night of sex, but his insides were on fire everytime he was near you, his soul aching for the same thing his mind wanted.

before you could even reply his dry messages, changbin got on his car and drove all the way to his place, contemplating on whether he should have a drink or two to try and deal with the mess of the decisions he was making.

he knew it wasn't going to be easy to have self-control around you specially because he was doomed to see you almost on a daily basis at arthur's house or the company, that being the main reason behind why he decided to send that message: because he didn't wanted things to get uncomfortable at places where the two of you should act like a couple of good friends, and nothing more.

he didn't went to your place because he needed to vent or fix his sexual frustrations with your body; he went there because, after the night of the bar, he couldn't forget the image of you as a goddess. he couldn't forget your taste, your skin, the way your hips involuntarily grinded while he was eating you out, your body following every order he gave you as if your only purpose in life was to satisfy him.

and as the days passed by, it was harder and harder for him to repress the idea of you in his bed. him owning your body, fucking you countless days and nights. the more he got the know you, the more his desires increased; even when you were talking about your childhood memories at seoul with changbin's parents in an attempt to try and avoid any kind of conversation with him, he couldn't stop thinking how attractive you were to his eyes.

Changbin's perspective

[9:54 p.m. Changbin]

i'm here

don't take too long

changbin rested his whole body weight on the drivers seat, ready to wait for -at least- another 15 minutes to be able to drive to chan's house. he was certain you were going to be there as ryujin told chan, and chan told him.

he knew all along that he wanted to have you in any way, but he also knew that his pride wouldn't allow him to make the first move after he was the one who cutted any kind of sexual ties between the two of you.

after 2 minutes, and for changbin's surprise, soyeon didn't took any longer to appear at the lobby of her complex, waving goodbye at the doorman.

"you didn't took long" changbin said, waiting for her to get inside the car.

"you were the one who made me wait" soyeon replied, getting comfortable at the car's seat.

"yeah i had things to do" the man replied as he started to drive towards chan's party that wasn't too far from the place he was at now. soyeon was changbin's best friend since highschool, something strange because he was never too fond of hanging out with women in a way that wasn't entirely sexual.

"so" the blonde one mumbled "you do realize that this plan is pathetic?"

changbin scoffed as his eyes were fixed on the road "if you don't want to help me just say so"

"it's not that" she replied "it's just that is ten times easier to just approach her than to try and make her jealous just to see if she approaches you first. not only is easier but more... mature"

"do you really want to talk about maturity, soyeon?" changbin teased "that's bold coming from the girl who breaks up with her partner every 3 weeks and then gets back together"

"you don't have to be mean" she pouted, giving changbin a soft hit on his arm. "i'm trying my best"

changbin exhaled harshly as he was looking for a place to park his car. "you don't have to do anything, just act like you are with me"

"you are so lame" soyeon said, getting ready to leave the car as changbin finished parking "i really hope she is with another man too so you can cut the crap and act like a man your age"

"whatever"

changbin left the car and opened the door for the girl to get out too. the party had started, at least, 2 hours ago so he knew he was late and everyone else was probably drunk already. not that he cared though.

soyeon entered the house grabbing changbin's left arm, her eyes dancing around the crowded living room trying to catch a glimpse of the girl that was making changbin act like a highschooler. "it would be very useful if you told me how the fuck does she looks like" she screamed, squirming and dodging the drunk people that were dancing around in the living room.

"don't act too obvious" changbin muttered in her ear "i'm not even sure she is still here, she probably left.

changbin and soyeon walked further into the house as they greeted chan and the rest of the boys, congratulating jeongin on his birthday who was too drunk to even reply.

"there's alcohol in the kitchen and the courtyard, if you want to start there" chan said, ryujin gripping his arm while she ocasionally stumbled on her place.

"you got a girlfriend?" ryujin asked without remorse, pointing at soyeon with her index finger "jesus christ i knew you were a dick"

soyeon looked at her and then at changbin, unsure of what to reply or say. not that she needed to, since ryujin started talking again right after she insulted changbin.

"i'm glad i was smart enough to convince y/n to come to this party, at least she met a man who is going to-"

"okay that's enough" chan said, him being a little more lucid than her. "she is drunk, i'm sorry"

"no worries" soyeon said, watching how chan and ryujin dissapeared into the crowd of people.

"do they know about your little obsession with her?" the blonde one asked, changbin's eyes scanning the whole room.

"i just told chan that i wanted to fuck her, i guess y/n told her the whole story to chan's date. it is her bestfriend, apparently"

"oh"

changbin and soyeon walked to the kitchen to grab a drink, since it was closer than the courtyard. after a few minutes, the search for you was usuccesful and changbin came to the conclusion that you probably left earlier with the mysterious man ryujin said.

"well, pathetic boy" soyeon mumbled "you are already here, you might as well have a little of fun, take a girl home... i don't know what you straight people do" she extended her hand to him, inviting changbin to join her at the courtyard for a dance.

as she guided him through the living room and into the patio, changbin's body was quick to react when she saw you with jisung. his whole body tensed up, making sure to grab soyeon as close as he could to pretend that he wasn't alone.

"hey man i'm not-" soyeon reproached as changbin's hand traveled to her waist, his body pressing against hers. she directed his gaze as to where changbin's eyes were fixed and it took her a lot of self-control to not start bursting of laughter. "fuck changbin, you have good taste"

"shut up" y/n was now looking directly at changbin and his partner while she danced against jisung's body. changbin couldn't see his face, but he knew immediatly who he was by the undercut and clothes the man was wearing.

"seems like my pleas were answered" his bestfriend whispered, getting more into the role of a straight-girl-crazy-about-changbin character as she rested her head on his shoulder. "better luck the next time i guess"

y/n eyes drifted away from changbin's as she turned around to stop facing the couple. her back was now against jisung's chest, her ass grinding on him slowly as the song progressed.

"this is so funny"

but it wasn't funny for changbin, his whole body ablazing because of the anger and jealousy he was feeling. watching you dance with another man was exactly what was needed for him to confront his pride, as the only thing he could think of was to drag you out of the party and fuck you mercilessly until the only thing you could remember was his name.

just a few seconds later, the image he was fearing the most was now presenting itself in front of his eyes. your sweet lips dancing around jisung's as his hands were resting on your waist eager to travel to other places.

"i think i saw hyunjin inside" soyeon mumbled, escaping the unpleaseant (but funny) scene of his best friend going completely jealous over a girl.

changbin needed to do something, and he needed to do it now.

y/n perspective

"please ruin me" you whispered, your soul immersed in arousal, guilt and regret.

"you shouldn't have said that, y/n" changbin growled as he gripped your hair to pull you in for a kiss. the touch of his hands burned on your skin deliciously, feeling the electricity traveling through your veins and into your core. the kiss was rough, and you couldn't help but whimper as you felt the fabric of his clothes against your naked skin, reminding you of how good it felt to be vulnerable in front of him.

his lips went from yours to your neck really quick, peppering kisses on the surface as he licked and sucked on the exposed skin. "if i'm going too far, you can stop me anytime" he exhaled, his teeth picking up the skin under your jawline softly.

you nodded as he worked on your neck, getting soft moans and cries out of you.

"can i please mark you?" he asked, with a broken voice as if he was running out of air, desperate to continue exploring your body. marking. the idea of being covered in faint bruises because of him only contributed to your arousal even more.

"go ahead" you moan "make sure they are visible enough"

changbin smirked against your neck as his grasp on your ass got harder. you couldn't help to flinch a little when he started to suck harshly on your neck, but he was quick to wrap his arms around you to keep you in place. the mere thought of him causing you this kind of pleasure, mixed with pain, made you squeeze your thighs together.

"god" you moaned, grabbing his hair and pushing him to keep marking you "fuck, that hurts" it did, but you didn't wanted to stop.

"it is supposed to hurt, precious" changbin said, his arms still holding you thight as he created a masterpiece on your naked skin "that's the only way you will remember who you belong to and who made you feel this good"

changbin's hands toured the sides of your body and your back, unclenching the piece of underwear that was blocking him to keep kissing your skin.

"your body is always ready for me" he mumbled, your nipples hardening at the mere sound of his raspy voice "look precious, you are so good"

you couldn't help but whine at the cold sensation of changbin's finger rings that were caressing and teasing your hardened buds. "you look so... fragile"

"you don't have to be gentle with me" you moaned in frustration, almost begging for his tongue to make contact where you needed you the most. "i don't break easily"

changbin looked at you with the darkest gaze he had ever give you. "you have no idea where you are getting into by saying those words, y/n"

changbin's mouth approached one of your nipples as he lazily dragged his tongue around it. his fingers traveled to the opposite side, caressing and playing with your other bud.

"fuck, that feels good"

finally, his tongue made contact where you needed it the most, giving small and quick licks that were starting to drive you insane. you always knew how sensitive you were, specially in that area, and now that changbin knew this it was kind of dangerous.

"who is making you feel this good, hm?" he hummed, his mouth alternating between places.

"i don't like you" you moaned, screaming the last word as changbin aggressively sucked on your chest leaving a faint mark.

"you don't? and you are this worked up?" he asked with a mocking tone, his senses intoxicated with your scent.

"matter of fact i hate you" you mumbled, trying to repress your moans "don't think you are the only person in this world who can satisfy me"

changbin planted a tiny kiss on your shoulder as he proceeded to rest his whole weight on the couch, manspreading for you. "take that off" he ordered, pointing out your panties.

you did as you were told, dragging your damped underwear through your legs and removing it in front of him. now being completely naked, his hand palmed his left thigh "come here"

you placed both your legs on each side of his thigh as your wet core made contact with the fabric of his black jeans, the sole movement making you whine and involuntarily grind against him. "show me how much you hate me"

you swallowed hard unsure of what to do next, his arms now crossed in front of his chest.

"how do... you want me to do that?" you asked quietly, feeling how your juices were probably making a mess on his clothes.

"ride my thigh" changbin ordered, giving you a condescending look "prove me that you can satisfy yourself better than i can"

you licked your lips nervously as your breath caught up on your throat. you knew perfectly that you couldn't do that, you needed changbin's help to cum and if you didn't, he would probably humilliate you for it.

"go on, precious. as much as i would love to stay here all night i have plenty of ideas to ruin that filthy pride of you" your core rubbed against his thigh almost unconciously, your hands traveling to his shoulders for support. "hmmmm" he hummed, grabbing both of your wrists and slowly placing your arms behind your back "you can do it by yourself"

the lack of help from changbin and the fact that your whole body had no support only made things harder. your hips grinded against him at a painfully slow pace while your hands were behind your back, changbin enjoying the view of your whole body trying to pathetically get any pleasure from him.

"i need to hold onto something" you cried, the frustration increasing as your clit grazed ever-so-slightly against him "please"

after that plea, you felt changbin's grip on your throat again "this should do precious" he muttered.

thankfully, changbin's hold on your neck gave you the tinniest bit of support, your hips moving now faster against his thigh.

"fuck da-"your breath got caught up on your throat, partly because of changbin's grip making it impossible for you to talk and partly because the petname that was about to leave your lips was rather embarassing.

"what was that, princess?" he asked, amused. he wasn't doing anything other than having you fucking his thigh, but he couldn't deny the painful bulge inside his pants that was driving him insane.

"it was nothing" you whispered in between broken moans.

"say it" he ordered, "say it and i might reward you with something"

you bit your lips attempting to refrain from saying anything else, your core clenching around thin air as your fluids damped his jeans. "fuck daddy" you whisper, almost inaudible.

"louder" he demmanded, his hands leaving your neck to place themselves on your hips, guiding your movements against his body while he flexed his thigh making the contact between your core 10 times deeper.

"yes, daddy" you whined, almost to the point of screaming at the feeling of his hands harshly guiding your whole movements "this feels so fucking good"

"my poor baby can't do anything by herself?" he grunted, admiring the image of your breasts swinging as your body grinded on his thigh "does daddy has to do everything for her?"

the way he used his own petname sent you to cloud 9, only making you wetter.

"i'm sorry daddy" you cried, your head falling slightly back as you followed changbin's grip.

"you should be, y/n" changbin's voice getting deeper by the minute "because you look so pathetic right now"

the words that were leaving his lips only made you needier and contributed to your arousal to increase, the knot on your stomach threatening to come undone any second.

"i think i'm close" you whispered, your hands still behind your back.

"keep your eyes open and look at me" changbin ordered "i want you to remember who made you cum this hard without even touching you"

changbin's gaze was all you needed to come undone on his thighs, closing your eyes at the minute you felt the highest point of your orgasm hitting you "what do good girls like you must say?" he asked, getting even harder by the image of your trembling body orgasming in front of him.

"thank you daddy" you cried softly, your voice broken. "thank you, thank you, thank you"

there was nothing in this world that changbin loved more than your duality. how you would act dominant in every aspect of your daily life, but not when you were with him alone. you struggled to hide your pride, but once you did, changbin knew that you were fully submitted to him.

and you knew that too. as much as you hated him, he knew how to make you lose your senses and drift into a completely different state, one more vulnerable. 3 times it was all he needed for you to show him the purest side of you: the needy one, the submissive one, the one who needed to be completely ruined and taken care of at the same time.

"such an obedient whore" changbin moaned, pulling you into his arms to give you a kiss "do you think you can keep going, y/n?"

your legs were tired, but there was something that you had been craving since the night at the bar and there was no possible way you would leave his apartment without getting it.

"i'm can, daddy"

"good" he said, getting up from the couch and driving you to his bed. he didn't bothered to turn on the lights as the whole room was lit up by the window.

you came closer to start unbottoning his pants, craving to feel his length inside your mouth just like last time, but he was quick to grab your wrists "today it's not going to be about me" changbin mentioned, undressing slowly in front of you. "as much as i want to put that pretty mouth to good use, i have other plans in mind"

you rested your whole body on your forearms as your legs spreaded in front of him, exposing your whole naked body for changbin.

he drove one of his hands to his mouth and slightly spitted on it in order to stroke his cock to lubricate it, mixing his own saliva with the precum that was already dripping from him.

"you look so good in that position" he praised "your whole body ready for me to completely destroy it"

your nipples hardened at his words, and he was quick to notice it "i don't think jisung would have been able to make you feel this good"

you licked your lips at the confidence he exuded, even at moments like this. changbin's body aligned with yours, the tip of his cock rubbing against your wet folds, slipping with easiness "you are always so wet for me"

the frustration building up again just by feeling his cock against your entrance. you would be lying if you said you didn't thought about how it would feel to have him inside you, even if the idea scared you. it was a while since the last time you fucked and, to be honest, you didn't think you had done it properly. the only times you actually did it, it was completely hard for you to feel anything but pain, and that thought crossed your mind right before he could even get inside you.

"can i?" he asked, noticing how your face looked slightly terrified.

"changbin i-" you stopped before you could say something else. you tried your best to build up this confident sex-appealing character who, in reality, knew nothing about the practice of sex. it was going to be embarrassing to admit that you were -barely- a virgin, even though you actually weren't, to the man who just humilliated the shit out of you a few seconds ago.

"mhm precious?" he asked, a faint smirk appearing on his face.

"i- it's been a while since the last time i did it" you confessed, his smirk growing bigger. "it's not my first time, but let's just say that i have little to cero practice on this area"

it was embarassing to admit such a thing, but you were not open to have more bad experiences with sex. you expected for changbin to laugh at you, or act all cocky, but the smirk on his face was rather confusing. "i'll treat you well, precious" changbin said, sliding the tip of his cock against your core "can i?"

with a hesitant gaze, you nodded, your whole body squirming under his as you felt his cock stretching every wall inside you. changbin was big and it was painful, you couldn't lie. "you are taking me so well, precious"

soon, the painful feeling became pleasure. changbin wasn't moving at all, letting you get used to him inside you, but you quickly found yourself moving your hips in circular motions signaling that you were completely ready to take him.

slowly, his hips thrusted in and out of you. he needed to ruin you, he needed to go fast and rough on you, but your comfort was a priority for him. as much as he wanted to make a mess of you and make you scream in pain and pleasure, he was determined to control himself and his impulses.

"you are so fucking tight" he growled, trying to repress any sinful noises that could escape his lips.

"don't hold back" you whimpered, feeling how the pleasure and pain were finally becoming one. "do whatever you want with me but don't hold back"

"you don't know what you are asking for, precious" he scoffed, the feeling of his lenght being hugged by your warm walls almost driving him insane.

"i do" you moaned, looking directly into his eyes with the needier gaze he had ever seen in his life "i need you to ruin me like you promised me to, i know you can"

changbin licked his lips as his forearms rested on both sides of your head, his breath coming closer to yours "you have so little experience in this but i already made you a masochist, didn't i?"

changbin thrusted hard into you as he said the last sentence, earning a whiny moan out of you.

and, following your plea, his pace rapidly increase without a warning. your eyes rolled to the back of your head with each thrust, changbin going completely feral at the sight of his good girl begging for him to hurt her.

"faster... daddy" you cried, almost out of breath. the feeling was as humilliating as it was powerful. there was some comfort in knowing that you submitted completely for him, and that now he was going to show you how good he could make you feel.

"you are such a whore y/n" he moaned, his raspy voice turning deeper as he thrusted inside you. "my whore"

your fingers traveled all the way to your clit, rubbing it with circular motions as changbin's length was satisfying your hole "does that feel good precious?"

"it does daddy" you reply, words broken as the whines and moans wouldn't let you form decent sentences.

"you look so good being ruined by me"

there it was that familiar knot again, starting to come undone on your lower abdomen. by changbin's heavy breathing and sloppy thrusts you knew he was close too. "you feel so fucking good, y/n"

you bit your lips, your voice not being able to emit any sound at all because the pleasure was starting to become slightly overwhelming. it felt incredibly nice having him inside you, ruining you, destroying you. you felt powerless and at his mercy, ready to do anything just for him to praise you with a few words.

"i'm close again daddy"

as you said this, changbin's pace increased. his lips attached into yours, his tongue fighting to get that intoxicating taste of you once again. your whole body started to violently shake as you came undone changbin's arms holding you right in place so you wouldn't move. "that's my good slut" he praised.

tears started streaming down your face as you were at the highest point of your orgasm. "that's my good fucking slut, cuming on her daddy's cock" he grunted.

the overstimulation by his thrusts was soon to appear, making you squirm into his arms but trying to hold on so he could chase his high too. "y/n"

"changbin" you cried, your half-lidded eyes looking directly into his, that were now filled with desire.

"let me cum inside you" he asked, biting his lips and trying to control himself waiting for your answer.

the overstimulation began to feel like pleasure quickly again at his words, your core dripping even more your own juices with each thrust he gave you. "cum inside me, please daddy"

those words were all he needed to release himself inside your cunt, earning grunts and moans from him. the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

"thank you daddy" you whined, feeling his hot cum dripping out of your pussy once he pulled himself out. "thank you so much daddy"

the mere perversed image of you with your legs parted, his own cum dripping out of you as your fingers traveled to your cunt to mix your arousal with his and then tasting it, was all he needed to convince himself that this was not going to be the last time to have you like this.

he needed to have the precious submissive girl who was in front of him, with her makeup and hair ruined, with her whole body dripping in sweat and his scent.

he needed to ruin you.

he needed to destroy you.

he needed to take care of you.

he needed to own you.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #smut #angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #changbin x reader #changbin smut #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #kpop smut #kpop angst

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notnctu · 3 years

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when the snow falls | j.jh

jung jaehyun x reader genre - angst first, fluff later details - childhood best friends!au, ghost!au, platonic relationship, genderneutral!reader, ft. boyfriend johnny warnings - grieving/mourning, mentions of death, lots of crying, explicit language (swearing) word count - 8.3k inspiration - A Christmas Carol synopsis - Jaehyun visits you every holiday season since his death to bring you out of your self isolation and hatred for the one season you both once loved.

a/n - this is for my first collab ever: a taste of winter collab hosted by @dearyongs & @pastelsicheng ! again, thank you for letting me participate and i hope this fic brings more warmth for everyone during the winter!! happy holidays everyone & i hope you can check out the rest of the fics in the collab as i will be, they’re written by such amazing writers! :)))

An iridescent frost covers the tall windows of the apartment and a bright white sky greets you this morning. The fallen sheets expose your bare shoulders to the bitter crisp cold air and goosebumps rise to remind you to wear a fucking sweater for once. However, the cold isn’t what bothers you this horrid day as you’re leaping out of bed to glance out at the world. It’s the first thing that you lay eyes on: it covers the streets, it’s falling from the blanket of grey sky, it’s others’ joy when it’s your trauma. What Mother Nature has brought upon this winter season, as she always does this time of the year, is snow.

The first sign of snowfall marks the first day of your self isolation period until the holidays pass. It marks the anniversary of your best friend’s death and an agonizingly long winter, but in spite of that, it also means the appearance of a rather special guest. A guest that is only visible to you and though resembles much of your passed friend, does not share the same memories as you do.

“The snow is just so comforting, isn’t it?” Though you live alone, a sudden voice erupts from behind you and has you turning rather quickly to face the truth of this season. Your greatest treasure, yet haunting demise. “Hello, y/n. How has your year been?” Jaehyun stands with a lean at your door frame, his arms crossed at his chest and hair full of fluff.

“Hello, Jaehyun’s spirit. I happen to hate the snow, if you have forgotten.” Your hip presses against the cold glass and you’re no longer afraid of being half naked in front of what this form of imagination possesses itself to be.

“Remind me why again.” Jaehyun casually sits on your unmade bed, looking as about your age now. There is a brief silence as you examine how he’s grown with you, you’d imagine this is how he’d look if he was still alive and well.

It would be his third year in college, same as you, possibly studying engineering due to his past fascination with the mechanics of roller coasters. With such a strong jawline and a definite lean built, girls would be running all over him. Not to mention, his dimples remain one of his charms.

Kicking off the icy window, you walk carefully and slowly up to Jaehyun. A hand reaches to caress his cheek, but it goes right through him and leaves your hand to hang in mid-air. This happens every time you see him again, wondering if you can get one last touch of his dewy complexion, and you simply can’t. Despite his ability to touch you, there is no possibility for your senses to travel through to the other side of the supernatural dimension.

Jaehyun gently rests your hand back to your side and repeats his request, “remind me again why you hate the snow.”

“It’s how you died.” A small croak gets caught in the back of your throat and tears well up to blur your vision. “So when the snow falls, it brings me back to the dreadful memory of me losing you, of you leaving me.”

“I died from snow? That is so lame.” Jaehyun grumbles and rolls his eyes.

You chuckle, but the tears roll down your cheeks as if they know no happiness. “You died from a car accident in the snow. Your tires slid, you couldn’t brake … and so, you crashed. Full trauma to the head, an instant death.”

“Where was I going?” He wasn’t this curious last winter, and so you’re unaware if it’s your mind playing sick tricks on you or if his unrest spirit is this forgetful. You wish it was the latter.

Choking on your tears, the droplets hit the hardwood floors below you. An overwhelming feeling of melancholy overtakes your chest and you’re suffocating underneath an unknown pressure. Your throat is drier than your mother’s gingerbread cookies, but you swallow the frigid air around you.

You’re so choked up by your sobbing that it’s too difficult to speak. Any words you say feel like thin ice, ready to crack at the lightest touch. “O-On the way to … my house. You were coming over to tell me a secret.”

“And I never got to tell you.”

“No, Jaehyun. I’ll never know what you wanted to tell me that day.”

when the snow falls.

There has never been a time before Jaehyun and all that you knew, all the memories that fill your brain, every growing pain you could possibly share, was with him and all until it wasn’t. Had there been a time after Jaehyun, you would not have expected it to come as soon as it did.

For the months following his death, you were in denial of his missing presence because every. single. thing. reminded you of him. Jaehyun remained in his assigned seat in school, although it was clearly empty. He lived through others’ mourning stories, where they spoke of fond memories that they shared and things he liked. The worst of them all, you still texted him every day in hopes to see the tiny three dots pop up that he was typing. And the warped reality in your head, the first stage of grief flooding every possible corner, was that he has always just been slow at replying back.

Then, his funeral rolled around and his parents asked you to share one happy memory of him. There were so many, how could you possibly have chosen just one? And so you didn’t. The moment the frame of the church entered your view, your legs stuck to the ground and refused to enter. There was going to be a point when you entered the building filled with crying people and a gripping, horrid smell of death and you wouldn’t be able to forget it. That scary thought, not only frightened you, but angered you.

The large attendance of people walked past you as teary eyes blinked up at the dark wooden frame of the door, but every one of them had never visited him for more than once when he was alive. His older cousins that had forgotten about him when they flew away for college, his acquaintances from piano lessons who never bothered to remember his full name, his old friends from primary school that he had lost connection with after graduation, they were all here.

And you can’t help, but fester a fueling frustration in the pit of your stomach and as it grew into your chest in the matter of seconds, you wondered the single thought that picked up your feet to run home: where were they when he was alive?

After a year and the appearance of Jaehyun’s ghost became less of a shock during winter, you were stuck in an odd and uneasy place of what if’s. Talking to him once a year was never enough, texting his old number was never enough. It was just never enough.

Missing him grew into a dark sense of yearning, longing, bargaining. Long nights of twisting and tossing in your bed, many thoughts and endless possibilities ran through your unhealthy thoughts. The description and police report of his accident played like a reel in darkest contemplations.

The first year of college had to be the hardest to go through without him and thus, aiding in your regrets of not cherishing him enough when he was around. A rabbit hole of universe paths drove you wild, wishing and hoping that you could turn back time and stop him from coming over in the middle of a blizzard. And the one lasting thought still haunts you to your present: if only you hadn’t encouraged him that night, he wouldn’t have died.

The saddest part has barely been acknowledged, even by yourself. That this one tragedy tainted the one holiday you two loved the most --- Christmas. Every year since his passing, you locked yourself in your room for two weeks before the holiday and waited through it all. Truthfully, there was nothing in the universe that was going to allow you to enjoy the holiday when it wasn’t with him. Even his ghost, who very randomly popped up on a December day and cluelessly never brings much comfort as the live him did during this season.

Jolly holiday music lost their joyous sound and became awfully low tempo. The bright red and green signature colors of Christmas became dull and rather grey; the long strings of colorful lights that hang from houses and around large trees were absolutely drained of their color. The warmth of the fireplace went cold. The cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies no longer entertained and lost their spark.

The Christmas themed decorations that covered the windows of shops, the city, your own house, became an overwhelming sore sight to look at. The love from your loved ones… you couldn’t feel anything remotely close to love anymore, just meaningless affection. The one gift that the Earth blessed your region with, snow, became the one petrifying thing that it had to offer. And your favoritism for the holiday, the so-called ‘Christmas Spirit’, slowly died out, along with Jaehyun.

Now that it’s been three years since his passing, you’re here spending your third lonely holiday season inside your apartment discussing your yearly recap with your ghostly best friend.

“That ridiculous final exam lowered my grade and I walked out of that class retaining none of the information. When will I ever need to know about pirates in the 1800’s?” The chocolate wrapper crinkles in your fist as you finish your overly passionate recollection of the most useless class you could have taken this whole year.

Jaehyun sits by your side, facing you as he hugs his knees close to his chest. A small grin dots the dimple on his left cheek when you peer over at the huddled boy and the sad reminiscent glisten in your eye does not go unnoticed. “You used to love pirates. Dressed up like one for Halloween and went up to every house yelling,” Jaehyun clears his throat and perks up, ready to perform.

A balled fist in the air, paired with a look of utter gusto and passion, Jaehyun speaks in an attempt to horribly reenact your once embarrassing pirate impression. “Argh! You scoundrel, give me all the treasures in your possession… preferably chocolate sweets.” He holds his stomach as he bursts into a fit of his baritone laughter. His wide mouth grows into such a big, open smile that his eyelashes dance on his glowing cheeks.

“For a ghost, you sure look like someone who’s very much alive.” Naturally, you’d swat lightly at his knee or arm whenever he would joke around. However, the pain of your hand passing right through him breaks this habit and you’re left scoffing at the way Jaehyun is consumed with laughter.

“You know, for someone who is alive… you sure look a bit … lifeless. When was the last time you were happy, y/n?” Jaehyun finally settles down and gently nudges at your elbow.

His question hits you like a wall of bricks. Unexpected and completely straightforward, but that’s just always been the way he is. “This past weekend when I turned in my last assignment for the semester.”

“No. The last time you were genuinely happy, not relieved. You mentioned a boyfriend, right?”

Rolling your eyes, you grow a bit silent and annoyed at his comment. “Listen, hopeless romantic. Not every relationship is perfect sunrays and gushy unconditional love.” Perhaps, your gaze drops down to your hands and the wrinkled wrapper between your fingers has worn out from your fidgeting.

Johnny Suh. If you could move mountains for this man, you would. It all started due to an accidental happenstance of you abruptly walking into your campus’ coffee shop to seek shelter from the rain and him, the attractive barista behind the counter, chasing after you in a stained apron and an immensely strong aroma of coffee beans. Jaehyun practically swooned over hearing how you two met, hearts in his pupils and a dreamy grin resting fondly as he attentively listened.

Jaehyun has always wanted a relationship, though he did have many admirers in high school, he never had the opportunity to experience one true love and to play out every sappy romantic thing rom-coms taught him. Hearing about your love life is the closest thing he can get to it, unfortunate for him, but fortunate that his best friend still has some romance in them.

Nevertheless, it’s only been a few months together. Though Johnny has seen intimate parts of you, he’s never experienced a winter with you and frankly, he won’t ever experience one with you if you keep this up.

“Johnny doesn’t make you happy, then why are you with him?” Jaehyun knows Johnny makes you feel something that is hard for you to put into words. He also knows the type of person you are, pushing your buttons to get you to defend something you love. Boldly. Loudly. Strongly. He knows how to get you to spit out words of truth, even when they’re difficult.

“My partner is the literal definition of happiness, okay?” The defensiveness drives your assertiveness further. “The last time I was happy was when…” your eyes are frantically examining the floor for any source of focus as a highlight reel of this whole year flashes through your mind.

“... On my birthday, he planned me a picnic. Bought me roses, the whole grand scheme of romance. I started to cry, out of happiness… it was the first time in a while that the reason behind my tears was something good.” There’s somewhat of an epiphany when you finish your sentence. Your voice gets lost in your train of thought as the blissful scene plays out.

“Why were you crying?” Jaehyun snatches the distracting wrapper from your fingers, it being unrecognizable from the wear and tear. It causes you to meet Jaehyun’s round eyes: empty, but not sad. They’re lost, yet filled with purpose.

Jaehyun has always been able to open up the darkest parts of your heart. “Because it reminded me of the time when you and I walked up that steep hill over on Fifth Street… and we forgot the picnic blanket. But it didn’t matter because after the strenuous journey, all we wanted was to sit down and enjoy some fucking sandwiches, along with some hot chocolate your mom packed us.”

“y/n, you cried over the memory of sandwiches and exercise? That’s so---”

“Before you insult me by calling me lame,” you bring your finger to stop him mid-way and narrow your eyes, “I was so happy to be able to share our same experience with someone else. Even though you’re gone, I can still have these happy moments with other people.”

Then, Jaehyun gathers both of your hands to hold and brings them to his soft lips. Everything about him feels cold, like a harsh chill that bites at your skin. In spite of it all, his delicate kiss on your knuckles somehow feel warm and slightly comforting. Jaehyun peers up with kind eyes, “you’re almost there. I will do everything I can to get you there.”

Blinking at him with confusion, your expression asks the questions for you. When he sets your hands in his lap, a soft pat on the back of your hand reassures you. “Can we bake Christmas cookies?”

Rolling your eyes, you tear your hands away from him. He leaves you with unspoken words and an oddly comforting feeling, but it’s not enough to dissipate your deeply rooted dislike for this particular holiday. “You ask this every year.” Getting up, you walk towards your bedroom to get away from feeling too vulnerable.

Jaehyun watches your back intently as you’re stumbling over your feet. He whispers to himself, “and I think this year is going to be the last year I’ll ask for it.” And a hopeful smile appears joyously as he anticipates the storm before reaching still waters.

The sound of the doorbell awakens you and Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen. He comes and goes as he wishes, however, he’d usually accompany you during the mornings. You’re particularly sluggish, finding it difficult to adjust to the blinding white sky outside as snow continues to drift upon the city.

“Good morning, gumdrop.” Your boyfriend is rather chirpy today. Johnny engulfs your fragile body in his long arms and you’re lost in his scent of peppermint bark.

“This was unexpected.” His shirt muffles your tiny voice and Johnny is setting down bags of groceries on your kitchen countertop.

“I texted you last night that I was coming over to do some grocery shopping for you. Did you sleep early?” Your very helpful boyfriend starts unloading all the parcels of fresh produce and your favorite snacks. However, there is a slight tinge of annoyance and possibly it’s due to the fact you weren’t expecting to see anyone during your isolation. Johnny couldn’t have known though.

A deep sigh escapes your lips and you walk over to stop his movements. A hand holds his arm and the other intertwines with his own, but you stand under him with the sweetest smile you could wear during the holiday season. “How is it that your mom invited me to your family holiday party, but tells me that you’re not going to be there?”

Your smile automatically falls from your lips and a hand retracts from his warmth. It’s the sudden truth that you must face, the confession of your sadness that you’ll eventually need to tell your partner. Wondering how he’s going to take the news, your mom probably gave him a brief breakdown about how you’ve been this way for the past few years now.

Nonetheless, Johnny has always been bold with his statements and though you’ve adjusted to his abruptness, this one is hard to give a quick answer back to. So as you’re racking how to present your dark narrative, Johnny sets you down on the couch with the utmost gentleness. You don’t even feel the cushion underneath you when the million different answers streamline their way into your brain.

Johnny notices your frantic eyes and unfocused gaze, growing a bit concerned at how cold your skin feels at his touch. Taking off his sweatshirt, he carefully slips it over your shaking figure. When the softness of the polyester cotton blend brushes upon your bare arms, you’re snapped back facing a worried expression.

And you say the one thing on your mind, the only thing you can think of in your scattered brain. “Jaehyun died during this time of year, so it just makes me very emotionally unstable to… participate in any festive events. I’d rather be alone, the whole holiday season.”

Johnny nods, but his face remains with his eyebrows together and lips pressed into a tight line. He’s well aware of who Jaehyun was and means to you. Though you don’t talk much about him, your eyes light up with a bright twinkle whenever you do. It’s like the world spins ‘round and everything feels restored. Johnny knows enough about your good friend to deduct how hard it must be for you during the winters.

“Can I help you in any way?” Johnny peers over at you with a small smile, and you wish there is something in your decaying heart to keep it up forever.

“I hate to say it, but please just leave me alone for the winter.” Flopping on his lap, you’re burying your face in your hands to cower away from seeing your sunshine hurt. There are no more sugar coated kind words for you to pick and choose from.

While Johnny can understand how difficult it must be for you, he still holds onto a sliver of hope that you’ll come around. “Come on, don’t be such a Grinch. No one should be alone for Christmas.”

Groaning, you sit up and roll your eyes at the familiar references. “Listen, Cindy Lou Who. Don’t call me that.”

“It’s still a cute nickname, you don’t think?” Johnny snickers lightly, but your expression turns rather grim and serious. A faint overcast of melancholy washes over your expression as you’re staring off into your memories again.

In a faint voice, your voice is barely above a whisper, “that used to be one of Jaehyun’s favorite movies.” Your arms drop from your puffed up chest, but Johnny catches your hand and kisses your fingertips.

“What was yours?” Johnny keeps the atmosphere as light and playful while he still can.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.” Ironically fitting and that’s one of the sole reasons you don’t watch holiday movies anymore. There have been too many parallels with your life and the wrenched holiday. As twisted as the joke may seem, you’ve lived your own nightmare before Christmas, except you never got the happy ending to it all. It’s like a nightmare that continues and you can’t escape it.

Having said, Johnny pulls you up to stand and draws you into the biggest hug. “I can’t leave you alone, even if I tried my very best. I still get butterflies every time you smile at me, so you think I wouldn’t be addicted to that feeling?”

“Johnny…” This man is in love with you until the ends of this Earth, until the horizon stretches so far that it’s unimaginable to see where it stops.

“I’ll respect your wishes as much as I can, but know that it’s not the best form of healing.” The final word causes a chill to run down your spine. It implies that you’re still hurting, although he’s not wrong, it’s rather disheartening to hear someone else speak it aloud. “I’ll come around less.”

“If I’m grumpy, then you’ll know why. And don’t try to shove the whole Christmas spirit act on me, I don’t want to hear a single thing about it! I can’t spend a Christmas without Jaehyun.” Johnny squeezes your shoulders at your bold declaration.

“You can’t or you won’t?” A painful tick at your heart leaves you speechless at his question.

For as long as you could remember, every Christmas was spent with Jaehyun. Picking out a tree for both of your families and getting lost together between the evergreens brought laughter and excitement. Baking cookies and drawing the ugliest faces in tacky colorful frosting always happened a few days before the holiday. Drinking hot chocolate by his family’s fireplace and watching Christmas movies were one of your favorite activities. Christmas Eve was always so special, where you and Jaehyun made it tradition to open your gifts from each other right when the clock struck midnight.

Then everything simply stopped. And when you tried to participate in those same activities, selfishness and guilt preoccupied your heart. What do any of those things mean without Jaehyun? Jaehyun was the reason you loved Christmas as much as you did. Then, his death became the reason you hated it as much as you do.

“I think that’s enough for today.” Johnny knows he’s hit a nerve, he can see it in your glossy eyes and subtle drop in the corners of your mouth. There is no protest from the taller man when he accepts his sweatshirt without a complaint. The bitter cold air bites at your bare shoulders again and you’re practically existing in its lack of warmth. Gathering the rest of his belongings, you two bid a kiss goodbye and shut the door.

It’s almost a relief that he’s gone and the tear runs down your cheek when your back hits the door. Suddenly, Jaehyun appears across the living room leaning on the door frame to your bedroom. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is.” There is a hang at the end of your sentence and Jaehyun walks toward you. A few sniffs fill the empty apartment, but you’re rubbing away any sign of sadness from your face.

“But?”

“But, he’s so optimistic about… everything. He lives by the sun and every waking day, he just lives it to the fullest. There’s nothing in the world for this man to possibly understand how sad I feel.” It’s the heaviness in your voice that has your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach.

Jaehyun’s freezing hands graze your chin and as he lets go, his stare doesn’t leave yours. “Learn from him.” Your best friend’s ghastly voice reminds you that he’s not real. He’s a ghost. He’s very much gone and not for a split second, should you be wanting to cave into his embrace or else, you’ll hit the floor hard. Nevertheless, you’re entirely vulnerable and the next few words that leave Jaehyun’s mouth causes your throat to close up.

“Keep him close. y/n, he is the sun.” It’s a moment you thought you’d never witness, your best friend complimenting your significant partner. Moreover, it hurts to think about how great of friends Jaehyun and Johnny could have been. “To be very honest, you need some heat this winter.”

“Then, what were you?” It’s the curiosity that nips at your tongue as it leaves no space for a pause. The thumping of your heart being so loud in the dead silence, but you know Jaehyun doesn’t have a heart to beat recklessly as yours.

Jaehyun smirks and chuckles fondly, despite how desperate and serious you may have sounded. “I was a pain in the ass.”

Scoffing, you break the immensely intense eye contact. “You still are. This whole haunting thing is very creepy.” Gesturing his entire being in front of you, he just looks so alive and breathing. Before Jaehyun, you always thought ghosts were floating entities with a white transparency. But your best friend stands before you, well aged and all together.

It still tosses you into shambles as to why Jaehyun exists, but you’ve given up on figuring out his purpose. He could be a form of your own imagination for all you care, perhaps you’ve grown so sad that you started to seek things.

Companionship from the one person you wish was still alive?

Like before, you’ve always spent Christmas with Jaehyun… alive or in ghost form.

It’s another one of those long days that seem to never end. The bright white sky seems unchanging, stark with a dusty and imminent endless overcast of snow. It’s blinding and you’re regretting the moment you overlooked the curtain blinds at the department store.

Your phone has already been lost somewhere underneath your bed and there isn’t a single desire to reach for it. Missed calls pile up, voicemails clutter your inbox, texts flood your messages, and your social media notifications fill your screen. Despite everyone’s effort to contact you, there is no sense of joyous cordial nature to even glance at them.

Jaehyun has been appearing more frequently and staying for longer periods of time. The conversations bring an empty comfort, most of the times you feel the need to remind yourself that you’re not actually talking to someone, are you?

“What’s that sad look in your eyes?” He startles you when you’re off looking vacantly out the window. Your mind has been completely distracted lately by meaningless thoughts and the sweetest reels of Jaehyun that have turned blue.

The more you wrap yourself in your white sheets, the less you can feel any source of warmth. And perhaps you haven’t realized that you no longer felt any heat the past few days, that you’re at a freezing point and it’s made you numb.

“Not sure what you mean.” Your voice remains dull and monotone, lifeless almost. Jaehyun takes a seat against the window and for the first time, you can see right through him.

“It’s not your fault, y/n.” Is he a mind reader too? The thought that always circles your mind when Christmas draws near is not only that Jaehyun is gone forever, but how you could have prevented it all. The guilt eats you up and no matter how hard you’re searching for acceptance, it slips away from you before you have a chance.

When you don’t answer, Jaehyun heads over to your bed and he’s alarmed at how cold your hands are. “It was never your fault.” Your best friend pulls you into a hug, but it can barely be felt. What kind of hug can’t be felt?

“I never said it was.”

“No, but you thought about it.” The chilly draft causes you to shiver and it’s hard for you to concentrate on anything else besides the night of his death.

“I should have stopped you from coming over.” Although you’ve confessed this many times to him before, it never gets easier to say. Jaehyun sighs and ultimately frowns at your tears slipping from your eyes again. Like the snow that drifts from the heavens, your tears know no end to their downfall. It’s become too natural for them to appear. The closer it gets to Christmas, the harder it is to stop from crying.

“It’s hard for me to speak about it since we don’t remember much of the same moments---”

“Jaehyun! I remember that night as clear as it was just yesterday that it happened.” There’s no reason to yell, but a strong sense of pain erupts from your chest.

He’s so calm at your sudden outburst, turning his head to face you with a deadpan expression. “You weren’t there, y/n. You were home, safe and sound as you should have been. I’m more than grateful that you’re the one alive.”

“I’m not!” But when the confession leaves your lips, you’re shaking and fearful. The entire room is stiff and silent. You couldn’t even believe what you had just said, wondering if that is anything close to truth. You look up at Jaehyun, who blinks at you with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. “I mean,” you clear your throat in the midst of the tense atmosphere. “I could have saved you.”

“You’re not a hero and I didn’t need saving when I was already gone.” He taps his temples lightly, “full trauma to the head. It was just my time to go.”

“The secret. I wanted to know so bad that I didn’t stop you from coming in a snowstorm!” Jaehyun pats your head in an attempt to soothe your aching heart.

“And I wanted to tell you just as bad that I didn’t care about the snowstorm. y/n, stop blaming yourself for something that happened to me. The universe is much more complex than that, give it some credit.”

“You’re even philosophical as a ghost? Give me a fucking break.” Groaning, you pull the sheets over your head to somehow run away from the conversation.

Jaehyun lies down next to you, smiling cheekily to himself and glancing over at the lump that you had become underneath the blankets. “Do you remember the time I taught you how to ride a bike?”

“I thought it was your dad who taught me.” You grumble, tossing away the sheets to glance over at him. It always puzzled you how Jaehyun never remembered the same memories as you do, and even if you did, one of you remembered it differently.

“He was probably there as supervision. I was the one who helped you take off your training wheels and strap on your impressively thick knee pads.” You’re lying on your elbows now, fists pressing into your cheeks and a fond attentive gaze upon Jaehyun’s resting figure. He’s staring up at the ceiling that protects you two above, yet can cave in at any moment.

Dimples dip into his round supple cheeks as his toothy smile comes into view, reliving the happy memory. “You rang your little bell so many times that day.”

“Because I was scared!” You protest, muttering something incoherent. “Didn’t we go downhill when I said I wasn’t ready?”

“We went downhill because you said you were ready.” His hair ruffles in your sheets when he turns to face you, and he just takes your breath away. It’s the stars in his dark eyes that sweep you off your feet, like the gleaming star on top of a tree. The color that oozes from his smile, like Christmas lights that line a rooftop, make it hard not to stare. Jaehyun looks just like Christmas, the most wonderful thing of the year. In someway, he resembled an angel or the soft sheet of snow ready to fall right through.

You’re encompassed by overwhelming effervescent emotions from listening and watching Jaehyun glow and gleam. “Then, what?”

Jaehyun’s low chuckle illuminates the room, dazzling the boring grey interior. “Little ol’ you, hurt yourself real bad that day, scrapes and wounds you thought you’d never heal from. You didn’t talk to me for a week, but you ended up learning how to ride a bike.”

“Is that right?”

Jaehyun rests on his side now, only an elbow supporting his body and he’s leaning in close to your face, you’re almost too sure you could feel a breath on your lips. “No matter how painful it gets, I’m always here to push you through it all.”

When your heart beats sporadically at his proximity, you didn’t realize that you are holding in a breath, being quite afraid that if you let it out, it would simply blow him away for the night. And you’re not ready for him to leave you again.

Christmas Eve;

It had to be a miracle that anyone got a hold of you this week when Johnny comes practically banging at your door. Though you are so close to ignoring his loud thumping, the sound of your boyfriend’s soft sniffles alarms you greatly.

“y/n, holy shit!” It’s deja vu when you’re in his arms again, a horribly warped version of it when the smell of peppermint bark tickles your nostrils disgustingly. “I thought something happened to you. You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”

“My one wish for Christmas was to be left alone and I meant it.” The attitude in your voice becomes jarringly evident and Johnny blinks back at you with a new found annoyance as well.

“Can you at least think of the other people around you?” He holds your shoulders lightly, but staring into his eyes seems to be harder to do lately. Jaehyun appears on the couch, lying flat on his stomach and a hand resting underneath his chin. This is no longer a private conversation, but you learned long ago that no one else can see him.

“Who are you talking about? My family? Because they’ve all given up on me.” This is the first time Johnny has seen you act so cold and distant, yet entirely vulnerable. You’re stripped of everything that you usually hide in --- oversized clothes, happy smiles, and a beaming warmth.

All Johnny ever wants is for you to be loved, not only by him, but by the world. And interestingly enough, he loved you for your vulnerability and your rawness. This is until he realizes, in this moment, that it stems from your trauma of losing Jaehyun.

“What about me, y/n? I’m still here.” Johnny is frantic, and by all means, hurt by your aloofness. Brushing off his hands from your body, you’re taking several steps away from him.

“And why are you still here when I kept telling you to leave me alone? Whenever I was upset, Jaehyun always gave me space! Haven’t ever thought about how that is something I need?” You’re saying nonsensical statements that are fueled by anger and annoyance.

He’s pushing your limits and for once, you’re pushing him away. But this isn’t new to you, in fact, you’ve pushed so many people away just like this and that’s why they’ve decided to just let you be.

Johnny is taken aback, “you know, I feel like I’m competing with Jaehyun and I’ve never even met him.”

You scoff and throw your arms in the air, visibly in disbelief at what your boyfriend is saying to you. May you lose your temper, you’re unsure about the future of this relationship. Yet, something in your cruel and painful heart no longer cared, snapping your wits and patience at your beloved.

“What are you saying?” You’re pacing back and forth, fuming with an inexplicable infuriation. Jaehyun catches your eye, and for a brief moment, you’re holding eye contact with him instead. “Jaehyun is dead,” facing Johnny now, you say words that jumble in your chest, regardless of their true meanings, “and even if he was alive, there would be no competition.”

“Because you were always going to choose him over everyone else in your life, is that right? Exactly like how you do now.” Johnny’s words sting like daggers at your skin, worse than the layer of frost that bites at you for the past two weeks.

“Please, don’t attack me for hurting.” With that, your voice breaks and cracks all over. Your tears hit the ground without you feeling them run down your cheeks.

Johnny is quick to wipe them away, not minding that his hands will now be wet from your salty droplets. He instantly regrets it all, the unwarranted questions, the fighting, the barging in unexpectedly. It pains him more to see you like this.

“I apologize. I’m sorry that I’m not saying the kindest words to you when you need to hear them the most.” Your partner is frowning, a true rare sight to see. “But, you’re still grieving and there is going to have to be a time that you move on.”

It’s one of those tip of the iceberg moments or when the ball finally hits the ground and a rush of cathartic enthusiasm washes over you. However, you’re not happy. You’re not even remotely close to happiness. You’re fucking sad, you’re aching with a pain so deeply rooted that it isolates you, that it rips apart anything that used to bring you joy.

And this causes you to scream your lungs out, sobs that choke you up. “I can’t! You don’t understand, no one understands! I just fucking can’t. He was my best friend and that night… he was going to tell me something.” Jaehyun can’t bear to hear your piercing wails, as he’s disappeared completely from the setting. When you’re panicked and searching for him, you only see Johnny staring back at you with a very concerned expression.

“And I will never know what he wanted to tell me.” Your tone grows soft and rather delicate, like a sad realization at the possibility that the secret died with Jaehyun that night.

“Some things are better left unknown. Do you really think you’ll feel better knowing?”

“Listen to him, y/n.” Jaehyun randomly appears next to Johnny’s stature. He stands a few inches shorter than him, but the sight of them together has you blinking in awe.

You’re darting between the two of them, “I don’t know what will make me feel better.”

“Come, tonight. Your whole family wants to see you for the one holiday that brings people together.” But when Johnny steps forward, you’re taking a step back.

“Please, just go.” With an assertive point to the door, your head does not lift up to watch your boyfriend leave. Despite every person you’ve done this to, Johnny’s hurts the most. His flame dies out tonight, providing no sense of security or heat. And with a toss of his arms of exasperation, he shuts your front door and leaves without a goodbye, without wishing you a merry Christmas.

Jaehyun calls your name, but you’re rushing to your bedroom and slamming the door shut. “Don’t you dare travel through the wall.”

Your apartment has grown so dark due to the shorten winter days. It’s pitch black all around you and the sky is no longer a deafening white. It’s the first time you notice the dark blue scattered clouds and the intricate snowflakes that drift carefully down to the streets. And, you’re all alone in the quietness. You truly are isolated every Christmas.

“y/n, let’s talk.” Jaehyun is beyond fed up with your behavior, that has to be the last straw. This is the first year since his death that he’s seen the evident spark in your eye, the hope that is hiding behind your depression. He sees it in the way Johnny looks at you, like you’re the greatest present he could receive in life. In your proclamation, as hard as it was to witness, is a spirit that wishes to be freed. There was a chance this year. There still is one.

“Jaehyun, you left me! You left all alone, and no matter how hard I try to stop thinking about you, it never works. In the end, no one is here for me like how you were.” Hands in your hair, you’re losing yourself at a rapid rate. It hurts to keep your eyes open, tears sting as they well up around the rims.

“Find a part of me in the people around you.” The door to your bedroom swings open and Jaehyun takes note of you by the window again. You want to leave, you want to be out there and he knows, before you can actually realize it yourself. You’re turning to face him and in the dark, he looks solid. He looks so real and whole.

“How do I do that?” It’s a genuine question that you’ve pondered before, but never feeling like you had the strength to do so. You’re always dwelling on your past with Jaehyun, indulging in the sacred memories only you two shared.

“What are things that you associate me with?” He is found leaning against your door frame again, hands are shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans.

You say the first thing on your mind, “snow.” When the words hit the air, your ceiling light flickers briefly. Jaehyun doesn’t flinch, however, still focused on your crying figure. Snow, the first sign of snowfall is when he appears for the winter.

“What else?” He encourages.

“Familiarity.” The light flashes again, for a mere second longer this time before it resumes darkness. Familiarity, for he grew up by your side for as long as you could remember.

There is an odd feeling that enters the room and you’re fearful of the unknown. But, Jaehyun’s cadence doesn’t falter, he’s not distracted by the random spurts of light. And if anything, it all could be his doing. “Keep going.”

“Comfort.” Flicker. “Warmth. Love. Excitement.” With each word, the light builds stronger and stronger. You’re speaking memories into existence now, “making snow angels until it got dark, laughing until our stomachs hurt, watching movies until the clock struck midnight, dancing until our legs gave out!”

Streams run down your face and you’re yelling until your throat feels raw, but you don’t wish to stop as the light glows brighter and brighter with each spoken word.

As you listen to every listed attribute and memory, you recognize a central theme in all of them and one thing that Jaehyun embodies, the one thing he’s always been associated with.

“Christmas.” A shaky breath exhales and a loud spark pierces your ears. The light illuminates intensely all around you, lighting up the darkest corners of your room and blinding you more than the sky has been lately.

“Jaehyun?” Closing your eyes, you can see the brightness through your eyelids and you’re beyond confused as to what is happening. When you mindlessly reach for his hand, you actually feel it and your heart is soaring due to strange unquestionable physics.

Jaehyun intertwines your hand in his own and caresses your face gently. For once, he doesn’t feel cold. He’s blazing hot, melting away the long days of isolation. “Open your eyes, y/n.”

What lies before you is an incredible, marvelous sight. Snow dusts the roof of your family’s house as green, red, yellow bulbs light the frame of it. Your parents really went all out; round snowmen sit perfectly together on your lawn. A decorative wreath hangs at the front door and a distinct chuckle catches your attention.

From the window that looks into your kitchen, your mother rolls a sheet of dough on the counter as clouds of flour erupt around her. Your father is preoccupied at the stove, with the silliest gimmicks for decorating the feast they’re about to hold. Silver tinsel line the dinner table with a festive table cloth draped upon it. The remarkable tree shines in the center of the living room, a glimmering star on top.

“I know we probably won’t see y/n again this Christmas…” The sound of your mother’s voice rings a bell in your yearning heart and Jaehyun is gazing at you with a wondrous look in his eyes. The grip on his hand is tight, your breath enters the night in puffs of smoke, and regardless of this all being real or imaginary, you’re so immersed in this reality that he knows you’re anticipating what your family has to say.

“... but something about this year really makes me miss them.” Your mother puts the rolling pin off to the side and rests her hand on the kitchen counter, trying to hold back any form of her own tears from falling.

“May Jaehyun watch over them tonight, our little angel doesn’t deserve to be alone.”

Your dad walks over to embrace your mother in a long hug, kissing the top of her head gently. “Merry Christmas, y/n.” Your father speaks into the air, without the knowledge of you outside, he’s thinking of you.

Something in your heart shatters, but it’s entirely different from the pain you’ve felt over the years following Jaehyun’s death. It’s a warm, bubbly feeling that spreads across your chest and you’re covering your mouth out of pure shock at the sight of your parents.

Your parents, who you’ve neglected every holiday season, still think of you. You recognize the ingredients that scatter the table, they make your favorite dish every year in hopes you’ll come join them.

Jaehyun whispers, “y/n, know that I’m always going to be here. I may physically be gone, but I live in your heart and the joyous memories we’ve shared together. I live through the many people who love you now, through Christmas. This spirit is also very much alive in the other people around you.”

When you peel your eyes from the scene of your parents, the vision suddenly disappears and you’re facing Jaehyun right back in your cold, empty, dark apartment. But you wish the moment lasted a little longer. For the first time in a long time, you wish to be with your loved ones. You wish to celebrate Christmas with the people who still care about you, the ones that are still alive and well.

“What if I’m not ready?”

“This signifies my final push down the hill. You’re all strapped up in your knee pads, y/n. You’re never truly going to be ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying.” Jaehyun pats your head lovingly and mimics the motions of securing a helmet on your head.

You’re letting go of his hand, running around quickly in search for the appropriate outerwear for the snow. It’s like a switch went off in your heart and a cathartic feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Every Christmas since his passing, you thought it was best to be alone. You thought it was selfish to live your favorite holiday season without your best friend, that you lost the spirit of Christmas.

However, this entire time… Jaehyun’s ghost has been a reminder that the Christmas spirit has always been alive. It’s not about the enthusiastic festive events or the cheerful themed activities or the distinct colorful decorations, it’s about the appreciation and love you have for the people who have made your year so special. You’ve associated the holiday so much with your best friend, that you’ve lost sight of it in your family, your current friends, your own boyfriend.

When you’re rushing out the door, you stop in your tracks and peer back at Jaehyun leaning against your door frame, just as he appeared a few weeks ago. He has the warmest, brightest smile on his face, “y/n, I think I finally remember the secret I wanted to tell you.” You’re afraid of the answer and the outside world, but your hand doesn’t slip from the door handle. Could it really be? The long anticipated secret that has been gnawing at your conscience since his death?

Nevertheless, he’s giggling and holding his stomach slightly from the immense amount of joyous laughter. “I wanted to tell you that I... finally learned how to shave.”

At first, you’re stunned at the simplicity of the beheld secret. All this time, you thought it had been something so meaningful, something so mind blowing, that needing to know practically destroyed your mental state. Then, a wholehearted and genuine laugh erupts from inside of you and you’re lighting up the darkest parts of yourself. Jaehyun looks at you fondly, like a beauty that he hasn’t seen in awhile.

“That’s fucking it? You came out in the middle of a blizzard to tell me you learned how to shave? How lame.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “when did I ever need an extremely valid reason to see you?” The laughter falls short at his confession and in the midst of all this enthusiasm, you bid him the softest smile. His purpose has been fulfilled, as the best version of you he’s always known and loved stands before him at last.

“I guess... you’re right. What’s going to happen to you now?”

“I’ll always be here for Christmas, even when you’re old and grey surrounded by the warmth of your loved ones in front of a large, extravagant Christmas tree. When the snow falls, I’ll be here.” Jaehyun’s dimple smile is the lasting image you see, the one you’ve always hoped to remember him by.

“Merry Christmas, Jung Jaehyun… I--”

“Love you too, y/n. Merry Christmas.” He ushers you out the door with a small kiss on your knuckles.

That is the last time you ever see him again. Now, when the snow falls, it marks the anniversary of your long awaited healing, the journey to acceptance, and the beloved memory of your best friend. May you never lose the spirit of Christmas and the warmth from your loved ones.

#nct scenarios #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #neothestars #kpopscape #nct scenario #nct #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #jung jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario

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lovethisletters · 3 years

Text

Poly MC! hc for the: Demon Brothers!

This is my first time writing anything about poly relationships! So I'm a bit nervous! I took the time to do a bit of research about the subject...however I still have a lot to learn; if you find anything that might be offensive please let me know! Just know I didn't do it with any ill intentions and I'll make sure to correct my mistakes!

Also I didn't knew if you refered to a poly MC who is in a relationship with all of the brothers or how each individual brother would react to MC coming out as poly to them and later starting a poly relationship and how they behave in said relationship...so I did the latter bc I found it to be a bit more easy to write and the first option would have been way too long and I was worried it might come off as boring because of it :c (but maybe I'll try to edit it and then upload it...some day...idk)

so...here it is!

Keys: MC = your main character name

Summary: MC comes out as poly to the Demon Brothers and how they behave in a poly relationship!

Additional notes: MC is gender neutral!

TW: small mentions or implications of jealous/possessive behavior (they're very minimal, but still...just in case)

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Lucifer

Lucifer is probably the one you're the most nervous to talk to.

But when you finally find the courage to do so it goes...to put it mildly, a bit... weird.

He stares blankly at you like you just said to him that water is a liquid or something, he's not very...responsive.

His reaction might come off as rude, considering you spend all this time trying to figure out the "best" way to come out and talk about the possibility of starting a poly relationship.

But the reason why he's not talking much is because he's trying to avoid saying anything he might regret later, you see... he's trying to process his own feelings towards the matter.

Lucifer is someone who has lived for a long, looooooong time, so it's more likely than not that he's already experienced being in a poly relationship.

thing is...such relationship was more experimentation rather than something serious.

And now he has you...someone for who he'll be willing to die for...

He won't say it but deep down he feels like his pride has been bruised.

He just doesn't want to "share" you, you're his and his alone!

But when he looks up at you, and see just how nervous you are, waiting patiently for any kind of reaction from him.

He realizes he's thinking of you as an object and not a person and mentally kicks himself in the face for it.

Lucifer reaches for your hand and offers you a small smile.

After a long conversation where you two express your own desires and worries, you two agree and decide to give it a try.

At first... I'm not gonna lie...it would be quite... difficult...

The man is possessive and struggles to see you giving any kind of affection to any of his brothers.

However I think he genuinely wants this to work, he wants to see you happy and knows that just because you also love his brothers doesn't mean you love him any less.

So he'll sit down and talk to you whenever he feels jealous, he knows communication is key and it honestly makes him feel a bit better.

With time Lucifer comes to accept it; He loves you and he loves his brothers and it makes him happy that they all can share such bond with you.

Mammon

I think he's the one who'll have a harder time adapting to a poly relationship.

I'll even go as far to say Lucifer's jealousy pales in comparison to Mammon's and I think this is due to his low self-esteem.

He won't accept it but he's jealous af when he sees you "getting cozy" with any of his brothers.

He'll even interrupt the moment by placing himself in the middle of whoever you were getting close to or think about some lame excuse to take you away.

This makes things more difficult and tense for everyone, so if Mammon continues his shenanigans expect a LOT more arguing from the brothers...(yes...more than normal...)

You'll have to sit him down and talk to him about his insecurities.

The first times he won't be very open with you, I think he might even get a bit angry if you even imply he's jealous and act all offended and walk out of the room.

Surprisingly the one who makes him understand how toxic he's being and how much this affects you is Asmo!

He'll have a serious talk with him, and just the fact of seeing his often bubbly and cheerful young bro being all serious is enough for Mammon to realize that what he's been doing and how he's been acting hurts you and his brothers.

He'll apologize...the Mammon way...

But ultimately he now makes an effort to respect whenever you're close to one of his brothers.

Just like Lucifer. Mammon will come to accept you love him and his brothers all the same.

He'll sometimes even suggest places you all can go together for a date.

Please, be patient with the avatar of greed with time he will come to accept that love exist in more than one way or form.

Leviathan

Surprisingly, unlike his older brothers, your favorite shut-in-otaku has an easier time adapting to a poly relationship.

Easier, however does not mean problems are inexistent...

He has a low self-esteem and sometimes might get the feeling that you're ""picking favorites""

However he won't tell you anything about it, and he'll just try to pretend like nothing is wrong.

Fortunately for you, Levi is quite easy to read so you immediately notice whenever he's feeling sad.

But all you have to do is have a little gaming session with him, and as the two of you "game" the night away he'll eventually open up to you about whatever is bothering him.

All it takes is a little reassurance and saying "I love you" to the avatar of envy from time to time and he'll be all good with you showing affection to the rest of his brothers.

Satan

Uhhhh...this is a tricky one...

You see...Satan is probably the second brother you came out to and perhaps you didn't even realized that you did because it just happened so natural.

The two of you were talking and it just slipped out of your mouth and he was like "hahaha, right?" And continued the conversation as normal.

He genuinely doesn't care, (don't get me wrong I don't mean that in a bad way) but all he knows is that he loves you and he wants you to be happy, and if expanding the love that the two of you have to his brothers makes you happy, then so be it!

However... remember I said this was tricky?

Satan has no issue with you being affectionate with his brothers...all of them except for Lucifer...

When he sees you getting close to Lucifer he won't say anything, he won't make a scene or a passive-agressive remark, he'll just excuse himself and exit the room. (Neither he will confront you about it later when the two of you are alone)He won't say anything at all; he'll just stay silent and pretend like nothing is wrong.

However you'll be able to notice Satan's true feelings whenever Lucifer has a small present or gesture with you.

Oh? Lucifer gifted you a $300,000 coat? Well, Satan will give you another coat but this one is $600,000.

Lucifer treated you to dinner at ristorante six? Well, darling... guess what? Satan will reserve the entire building just for you!

At some point he will notice how bad this makes you feel, since he's turning a relationship into a competition and that's no good...

He'll eventually take a step back and realize how childish he's being, how his behavior hurts your feelings and might have even made you feel guilty or responsible for his beef with his older brother.

Before you even decide to talk to him about it, he already knows what you're trying to say, so he'll be the one to sit you down and apologize for his wrongdoings.

You're someone who he values dearly and all that he wants is for you to be happy, so he'll be willing to make the effort to get along or at least be a little more tolerant of Lucifer.

There might be times where they still fight and stop talking to each other for long periods of time, but the two of them will take the time to let you know that this has nothing to do with you and that there's no reason for you tu feel guilty.

Because if there's something in wich both, the avatar of pride and wrath agree in... Is in how much they love you.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus (definitely) was the first one to know about you being polyamorous.

He probably knew before you even said anything, let's be honest here...

He's probably the one who you're more comfortable talking about it.

The brothers accept you, yes...but Asmo understands you!

He knows that the world can be quite cruel to people who love differently to what our society stablish as "normal".

Whenever he expressed his liking for more than one person he was shamed or labeled as someone promiscuous who'll never be deserving of "true" love.

It happened in the celestial realm, in the human realm, and even sometimes here in the devildom.

Angels where expected to only focus in the lord and nothing else, some humans are close minded and shame whoever is different from them, and demon's often confuse love with obsession and get easily tangled up in possessive behavior, often viewing their partners as objects rather than individuals with their own goals and desires. (his brothers are the perfect example of that)

So he just knows how difficult it might have been for you to find acceptance.

So he gives it to you; acceptance, reassurance, however many times you need to.

He'll be the one to encourage you to talk with his brothers, he'll be there to support you if you ever feel nervous, and he'll be the one to call his brothers out on their bs whenever they start to show any signs of toxic behavior.

He knows in all relationships communication and trust in your partners is key to a successful relationship, so he reminds this to everyone and even goes as far as to make plans where everyone feels included.

Overall the avatar of lust is the voice of reason in this relationship, because he knows better than anyone else that love is something that can't and should never be limited by what others believe or expect "true love" should look like.

Beelzebub

You weren't sure how Beel would react once you told him.

But still you were pleasantly surprised by Beel's reaction!

He was so accepting from the beginning and even thanked you for trusting him enough to share this with him.

He's happy that you want him to form part of this relationship.

He knows his brothers love you as much as he does and that you love them back, so he sees this as the perfect option for everyone.

He even thinks this relationship has brought everyone closer together.

Over all the avatar of gluttony is more than happy to be with you and share your affection with people he holds equally as dearly.

Belphegor

Belphie, much like Lucifer struggles to understand why would you want such a thing?

Is his love not enough for you?

It takes little more time for him to understand you, and learn that love doesn't just limits to one person.

He can be a bit insensitive some times, so he might accidentally say something hurtful to you about it.

And that's when Asmo has to intervene...

He'll have a talk with his younger brother and make him realize that there's more than one form of love and how his words might have hurt you.

He'll apologize...(much like Mammon) in his own way...

After thinking about it for a while, he realizes he's happy whenever you show affection to Beel, and wonders if it would be the same with the rest of his brothers.

Slowly but surely, Belphie it's more open to this new relationship.

There'll be times where he might try to monopolize your love, but he'll stop once you, Beel or Asmo call him out on it.

His favorite thing of this new relationship is whenever you spend time with him and Beel.

Please be patient with the avatar of sloth.

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If you find any grammatical errors let me know! I'm trying to improve my english and that would help me so so much!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would get to be as fond of her as much as I am!

Anyway, thank you for reading!

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jatphatones · 3 years

Text

Wish Upon A Star | One Shot (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

Wish Upon A Star | One Shot (Charlie Gillespie x POC!Reader)

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve/Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you are all happy and safe. This was my completely self-indulgent Christmas imagine. It’s based off of a few Christmas traditions that I celebrate. I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: swearing, typos, ddrinking, slight mention of smoking, FLUFF

Masterlist

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There’s a lot of things that remind me of why Charlie might be the one. Little actions, big gestures, daily reminders - all of it makes my heart grow a little more tender in the calloused hands that hold it. These beautiful moments were always prominent, especially during Christmas time.

“You nervous?” I give Charlie a sideway glance as we roll down the highway. He was lax as ever in the passenger seat, bobbing along to the Spotify playlist we always listen to. He looked so handsome in his maroon sweater and slightly messed up hair.

“C’mon baby, families love me. Look at me, I’m fucking adorable.” I watch him playfully roll his eyes when I scoff.

“I don’t see it,” I quip back. “And I’m asking for a good reason. Just because my parents love you does NOT mean the rest of my family will. Also, they can be a bit overwhelming. You obviously won’t know a lot of them. Hell, I might be meeting some of them for the first time too. I have no doubt that you’ll make a good impression, but it’s okay if you’re a little nervous.” He only hums in response.

“Are you projecting?”

“...maybe a little,” I admit lamely. Nothing more needed to be said once he places a hand on my thigh in comfort.

My heart swells at the silent gesture. I should be comforting him because he’s meeting the rest of my family and yet he’s calming me down. Maybe it’s how he’s able to know just what to do or maybe it’s honestly just him, but I’m okay within seconds. It’s scary how he has that effect on me, but it’s something I’ve embraced for a long time now.

I curse under my breath when I see that I have to park almost two blocks away from my own childhood home when I see all the cars surrounding it. Charlie can’t feel how clammy my hand is through my gloves but he rubs the back of it in comfort just the same. Trying to hide the shaky breaths, I squeeze his hand before walking through the front door.

Immediately, we’re hit with the loud chatter, soft Christmas music, and the aromatic smell of home cooked food wafting through the air. We just barely got our shoes off before my parents spot us from their spots in the kitchen.

“Y/N! Charlie!” My mom’s loud voice grabs everyone’s attention and all eyes flicker to us.

I beeline for the kitchen, dragging Charlie behind me and dropping off our presents at the Christmas tree. We weave our way through some of my relatives and stop right next to my mom whose hands were digging into the dough like mixture she created in a bowl.

“Hi Mom!” She leans over and we give each other a kiss on the cheek.

“How was the drive?” My dad comes around the counter and gives me a side hug.

“Wasn’t too bad. She wasn’t as fussy as she usually is,” Charlie answers as he receives a pat on the back from my dad.

“A Christmas miracle,” my dad jokes back, mustache lifting with the quirk of his lips.

“I don’t see you for a few months and this is the love I get,” I sigh while Charlie reaches over to give my mom a kiss on her cheek too.

“Charlie, help me out over here,” my dad signals, pulling Charlie away from kitchen. My eyes trail after him, worried that he might get ambushed by some of my aunts and uncles on the way to helping my dad out with whatever it is.

“He’ll be fine, anak. Don’t worry about him,” my mom snaps me out of my reverie. I look over and see her starting to pack the mixture into the little contraption. “You should worry about yourself,” she nods her head towards the people behind us.

“Is that your boyfriend, Y/N? Ang guapo nya,” my aunt speaks up from behind me. She gives me a kiss on the cheek and slides next to me with a raised eyebrow. “Nice of you to finally bring him around.”

I shrug, “He likes to spend the holidays with his family. He’s got a big one like ours. Less loud though.” My mom snorts at that.

A few more of my aunts make their way into the kitchen to hear more about Charlie. I was surprised that my mom hasn’t shared much about my boyfriend once I saw their mixed reactions after they learned he was an actor. It wasn’t long before our little group congregated to the living room where more of my family was watching tv. I start to freak out when I don’t see Charlie next to my dad but almost melt when I spot him chasing my little cousins around.

The twinkling in his eyes seem to sparkle more once he notices me and joins me. We wrap an arm around each other - I lazily rub his back while he idly plays with the hair falling down my back. He takes all the curious looks and nosy questions from my aunts in his stride, making them giggle with his charming smile and eagerness to learn more about my childhood.

I roll my eyes after he makes them giggle again with a story involving me, balloons on jatp set, and needles. I realized that I never had to worry about him. He was rowdy and liked sports just like my uncles yet charming but not trying too hard with my aunts. However, I grew a little nervous when my grandma slowly walks through the door. Once my dad helps her to the living room, we all take turns greeting her. She lets out a little laugh when all my little cousins give her hugs.

“Hi Lola,” I greet warmly, gently wrapping my hand around her fingers and quickly bringing it to my forehead. When I return her hand, I give her a kiss. “This is my boyfriend, Charlie.”

“Hello anak! And Charlie, nice to meet you,” she says sweetly, her accent the heaviest one out of all of them. Charlie towers over the small lady but doesn’t intimidate her in the slightest. I could tell that my grandma likes the way his eyes crinkle and how he warmly holds her hand. Once we finally greet all the adults, I drag him upstairs.

“Finally! We were wondering if you were ever gonna come up here!” My cousin MJ yells as soon as I open the door.

Her voice is joined in by murmurs of hellos and playful comments from the other eight people sitting around my old bedroom. Some of them greet Charlie warmly as they’ve met him before while the others meet him with kindness.

“MJ, for your sake, I hope you win,” I say after all the introductions. Charlie realizes that these are my cousins who are around our age.

“Oh fuck off, Y/N. I have a few years of college under my belt now. You better watch out!” MJ scoffs, “hope our aunts and uncles weren’t too mean to you Charlie.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” I smirk at my boyfriend’s pride and observe some of my cousins raise their eyebrows mildly impressed and others shake their heads at his smug demeanor. “What are you guys talking about?”

I plop down on the foot of the bed, pulling Charlie down next to me as Rob, the oldest cousin explains the reasoning behind our trash talking.

“Those of us who drink have a competition on who can drink two bottles of beer the fastest. The slowest person has to pass out the Christmas presents for the family,” Rob explains.

“That’s the worst job ever. Everyone’s always yelling at you because they’re impatient, especially the little ones. So we compete to get out of it. Plus, drinking helps the loser cope with the job a little better,” Paul, Rob’s younger brother, continues as he smokes a joint out my window.

“It’s not the classiest tradition, but when you have a family as big and as boisterous as ours, it’s a necessity for Christmas holiday,” I add. “By the way Paul, my mom is making polvoron so you might wanna avoid those with your dry mouth.” He nods in acknowledgement.

Since I was the last relative to arrive, Rob eagerly grabs the beer for us to drink. When he returns, he passes out the bottles. He offers a couple to Charlie and though he was moved by the gesture, he denies it because he was driving us back home. He also figured that he shouldn’t risk being a drunken idiot during his first party with my extended family (smart). Instead, he was tasked with keeping time for the rest of us.

It was hard for him to keep track because while each person took their turn, the others threw insults after insult at them. It was hilarious and Charlie almost cried with laughter each person. If he didn’t feel like he was welcomed already, his jabs at me when it was my turn earned quite a few cheers and a middle finger from me. I didn’t miss his proud smirk when he called out my time and realize that I beat a few of my cousins.

MJ loses for the second year in a row. Charlie is the only one who offers light comfort which MJ greatly appreciates. She, ever the sore loser, even goes as far as to disown the rest of us and claim Charlie as family. We all settle down and continue our conversations as the sun sets through the windows. MJ and I sandwich Charlie between us as we sit against the headboard. Conversation switches between all of us, laughter easily filling the bedroom. I take a moment to admire the man beside me. He kept up with some of the humor but sometimes my cousins were too quick. It didn’t matter though - he didn’t mind it when he would feel me squeeze his hand and my head rest on his shoulder.

“Y/N! Get your boyfriend to do karaoke!”

“The call of Tita Jess. C’mon everyone let’s go,” I sigh. Once there’s a call for karaoke, everyone knows that they’ll be summoned eventually. We all file out of my room and head downstairs. When everyone gathers in the living room, it’s almost hard to hear the Christmas music playing in the background over the loud chatter.

Never one to shy away, Charlie gladly grabs the karaoke microphone and lets a random song play. When “I Will Survive” plays, I let out an exasperated sigh, waiting for my boyfriend’s theatrics. My aunts and cousins were floored and shrieked of laughter at his ridiculous dance moves. MJ and I held each for support as we cried our way through his whole performance. He ends his performance with a classic mic drop. I hold my hand out for him to drag him away from the open space but he uses his strength to pull me into him.

Everyone cheers as he persuades me to sing “Man, I Feel Like a Woman” with him. He doesn’t understand that I never did karaoke, always too timid and prefer to watch and so my family was very enthusiastic as we fumble through the song. I don’t even realize everyone watching us too because the room melts away until it’s just me and him trying our best to sing without laughing too much.

Our cousins appreciated our lame attempt at incorporating High School Musical choreography into our song, so much that they genuinely asked us to sing another one. Everyone else joined in, but luckily Charlie’s phone started to ring. How he managed to hear that over everything else, I’ll never know.

Seeing his mom’s contact name flash across his screen, he excuses himself and heads back upstairs while I pull MJ up with me. Never turning down the once in a lifetime opportunity to do karaoke with her shy cousin, MJ bounds over to me in excitement. We sing one song before her little sister replaces her. Taking the chance to sneak away, I hurriedly run upstairs.

“Knock, knock,” I warn softly, “is it okay if I come in?” I hear Charlie say yes and quietly walk into my room where Charlie was standing by the window.

I wave hi to his mom and family when I notice that he was FaceTiming them. We catch up with them, making sure they received our presents and saving some food for us for when we go to them for New Years. It was a quick call, but an appreciated one. We wish them a merry Christmas and hang up.

Though we knew we should join my family downstairs, we knew that this was probably the only time we could get peace and quiet together. I curl into him and he wraps his arms around my shoulder as we admire the light snowfall blanketing the ground. The comforting silence gives way to the calm beating of his heart into my ear. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and let his woodsy scent wrap around me like a warm blanket.

“Thank you for spending Christmas with my family,” I murmur into his chest.

“Of course. They’re a lot of fun.” I hear the smile in his voice.

“That’s one way to put it. But yeah, they’re the best.” He feels me shudder when he drags his hand up and down my back and places his head on top of mine.

“You wanna head back down?” Charlie whispers after a few more moments of silence.

“Not yet, Rob will call us down when they start passing out presents.” I lean back and look up at my handsome man. I knew he didn’t want to shave, but he knew he needed to look clean for my family. I appreciated either look for many reasons. “Besides, there’s something I gotta do.”

He tilts his head with curiosity when I unwrap myself from him. I feel his eyes follow me as I walk a little closer to the star ornament hanging at the corner of my curtains.

“This is a parol star. My family and I make some a few days before every Christmas and then hang it. I never took it down from last year,” I look at the fraying tissue paper and admire the fact that the whole thing was still intact, “I don’t know how or when I started it, but every Christmas, I make a wish to the star that I make. I don’t even remember my wish after a few months, but I still wish for something. You wanna join me?”

“Of course.” I turn to him, seeing the look of endearment replace his previous curious expression. He gladly takes my outstretched hand and stands right next to me.

“Okay, now close your eyes and make a wish.”

I see him follow my instructions before I close my own eyes. My Christmas wish was easy - I wish to have this moment again for next Christmas and the next one and all the ones after that. Before I open my eyes up again, I feel warm lips softly meet my own. It took me by surprise but I quickly respond, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck and getting on my tiptoes. We exchange tender kisses, enjoying the little bubble we’ve created for ourselves. He cups my jaw in his warm hands and holds me close. It was probably the softest, most loving kiss that we’ve ever shared.

Pulling away, I place my forehead against his. Slowly blinking my eyes open, I’m met with his loving stare.

“Do we share our Christmas wish with each other?” he murmurs.

“I don’t know, I’ve never let anyone else join in on my little tradition,” I hum back. Just then, we hear Rob’s booming voice call everyone over to the Christmas tree for presents. We’re reluctant to pull away from each other and stay wrapped up for just a little longer.

“I’m ready to make our own Christmas traditions,” he says softly. My heart soars at his suggestion. “You okay with that?”

I gladly nod my head, softly bumping my head against his because we were still so close. Our resulting giggles get interrupted by Rob’s loud voice ringing out again.

With one last loving peck, Charlie takes my hand off his shoulder and guides me out of my room. He doesn’t hesitate to shout back at Rob, hollering when Rob heckles the both of us for delaying Christmas. I follow him without a second thought, feeling confident that my Christmas wish will always come true.

Filipino/Tagalog words:

Anak: baby (typically said by an older relative to a younger relative)

Ang guapo nya: he’s handsome

Lola: grandma

Tita: aunt

Polvoron: powdery shortbread (awful for dry mouth trust me)

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little Christmas imagine. I can’t wait to share this type of experience with my significant other lol. Again, I hope y’all have a happy and safe holiday! - Titi xx

#jatp #Charlie gillespie #Charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #Charlie gillespie fanfiction #Charlie gillespie fanfic #Charlie gillespie fic #Charlie gillespie imagines

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Angel’s Girl

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel wants everyone to know you’re his girl. Also, part of a request from @brownsugarcoffy/ Hi! I don't know if your taking any request, but I saw this picture of this necklace with Angel on it. I was wondering if you would write a imagine of Angel Reyes giving the reader a necklace with his name to claiming her as his old lady and now Angel now wants to only see her wearing his name as they make love. I really adore your writing and know you will do it justice. ❤

Warnings: A lil angst, a lil smut, a whole lotta fluff and cheesiness.

Here’s more of my work or if you would like to be notified here’s my taglist

At some point, you and Angel knew you had a forever kind of love. The kind of love where you get tattoos expressing that love. When it was your two-year anniversary, he propositioned the idea.

He showed you the sketches he drew of your name. He was so excited, that it physically hurt you to burst his bubble. “Angel, I love you, but there’s no way I’m getting your name tattooed on me.” Angel grabbed you by the back of your neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know, mi dulce. You’re too practical for that, so that’s why I drew you these.”

Moving his page of his drawing of your name Angel revealed a sheet of paper full of angel wings drawings. The one in the center, immediately caught your attention. “That one! That’s the one!”

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked nervously. Angel had only shown his drawings to you and EZ. He was too insecure to share them with to anyone else.

“Duh! And I’ll get ‘em on my fingers and go like this,” you flicked your wrist. “And tell them my super amazingly talented boyfriend drew them.”

“Handsome. Your super amazingly talented handsome boyfriend.”

“Oh, how could I forget!?” You smacked your forehead. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” He kissed your temple and listened to you plan when you and he would get the tattoos while he rubbed the ring finger you flicked at him earlier, thinking how well it would look with an engagement ring.

Angel just loved how you showed off your tattoos. Or better yet how you explained the meaning behind them. Club hang arounds? You flaunted that shit and in the next breath you threatened to punch them dead in the face if they ever disrespect you by flirting with Angel. Dudes hitting on you at the bar? You shot them down with the quickness and told them you only belonged to one person and fluttered your fingers like you were already married.

But one day the tattoos weren’t enough. Angel didn’t know what it was, but he knew he needed something else to say you’re his. An engagement ring was out of the question because he had yet to find the perfect one. Luckily, one day he stumbled onto a heart locket that had his name engraved in it and he knew that was it. That would show everyone you were his old lady.

When he brought the necklace to you, you were automatically in love, but you also had to tease him. He was practically going all caveman on you when he requested you always wear it. “Damn Angel, I might as well get your name tattooed on my forehead.”

“Angel!” You hit him as he was seriously mulling over the idea. “I’m just kidding, querdia. We want to take attention away from your big ole forehead not bring more to it.”

With your forgetful self, one day you forgot to put your necklace back on after the gym. That didn’t sit well with Angel, especially since you and him weren’t on the best of terms.

“Where the fuck is your necklace, Y/N?”

“In the car. I forgot to put it back on.” You set down your gym bag, went into the kitchen and got you a bottle of water.

“You forgot? Didn’t I tell you to keep it on at all times?” His insecurities were flaring up, driving him to be crazily possessive.

“Angel, I’m not your damn property! When you get that through your thick ass skull give me a call!” And with that you ran out the door with him calling after you was cut off by you slamming the door and running into your car.

That’s how you ended up at the bar, listening to some lame pickup lines.

“Angel, that’s a pretty name.” The guy pointed to your necklace.

Soon as you decided you were going to the bar you put the necklace back on. “It is.” You replied in a monotone voice, keeping your eyes straight ahead. He didn’t take the hint that you were not interested and continued to talk to you.

When you raised your glass to take a sip, he noticed your tattoos and made some corny joke. Somehow, he kept going even though that was like the fifth joke you didn’t laugh at.

From afar Angel was watching the interaction partly amused and partly jealous. He wanted you to tell the guy get lost, but he could clearly see your annoyance and it was funny to him. He decided he’ll let it go on for a little while longer to let you suffer some more unless it got out of hand.

“So, Angel what’s a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?” The stranger was about to put his hand on your thigh, but he finally picked up on some social cues and stopped himself. “I was enjoying my drink and my name’s not Angel.”

“What? It says it right there.” He pointed to your locket. Oh, this man was dumber than you thought. “Doesn’t mean it’s my name.”

“Then whose name is it?” He got defensive, he didn’t appreciate being made a fool of.

“Her boyfriend’s.” Angel finally decided to intervene when he saw the guy become agitated.

The sleazebag was about to be Billy badass, but then he saw Angel’s kutte and became a stuttering mess. “Sor-so-so-sor-sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girl. My bad.” He didn’t even give Angel time to threaten him. He ran off afraid of what could happen.

“Took you long enough off.” Halfway through your one-sided conversation with your unwanted suitor you saw Angel’s reflection through the bar’s mirror. “You knew I was here? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I thought you would.”

Angel took your glass and drunk the rest of your drink. “Nah, it was too much fun seeing you suffer.”

“Asshole!” You playfully shoved Angel.

He started to laugh but it eventually died down. “I’m sorry, querida.”

“For being an asshole at home or being one here?”

“At home. That shit here was too funny.” He backed away before you could hit him again. “Seriously though, I’m sorry. I don’t think of you as my property. Yeah this,” Angel moved in closer to grab your necklace, “it means you’re my girl, but the deeper meaner is that you own my heart.”

“So that means I’m not your whore you can fuck however and whenever you want?” You asked with a smirk.

“Check, please!”

—

Angel had you twisted up like some damn pretzel, but you loved it. As soon as you got home, he got on his knees and made you cum three times with his mouth and he would’ve gone for the fourth if you didn’t beg him to fuck you.

“Shit! Who’s pussy is this?” Angel was pounding into you, his eyes were focused on your locket swinging against your neck. “It’s yours Daddy!”

“Damn right it is.” He took your left hand and sucked your ring finger. With his hand he took a hold of your neck. “And next time some little bitch tried talking to you, you shit that shit down. You understand me?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered with tears streaming down your face. Angel was too good at this. You could feel another orgasm mounting up and it felt like it would be the most powerful of all.

Angel noticed you trying to hold back your orgasm because he didn’t give you the permission to cum. “Good girl.” He praised you, leaning forward until your foreheads met. “Daddy’s making you feel good?”

“Yes,” you nodded your head, “You’re so big, I can feel you deep in my tummy.”

He pressed a hand to your stomach. “You’re right, princesa. I’m deep in them guts. But can you do me a favor baby girl?”

“Anything for you.” Angel smiled against your neck. “Cum all over daddy’s cock.” And just like that you did. You screamed Angel’s name at the top of your lungs almost drowning out his own shouts of pleasure.

After that thorough round you wanted to bundle up and go to sleep but Angel made you get up. “Hygiene over comfortability,” he said.

As you went to use the restroom, he changed the sheets and started the bath. Just before you joined him in the tub, he handed you your shower cap. It was blissful silence as you two cleaned up.

Again, Angel was rubbing in your left ring finger. Ever since you got the tattoo there, he’s been obsessed, but he never gave the same attention to your middle finger with the other angel wing.

“Angel?”

“Yes, querida?”

“Why do you keep a hand on my ring finger?”

“Man, I thought you were the smart one of us two.” You splashed some water his way and he quickly apologized knowing you could start a splash war like nothing.

He brought up said finger to his lips and kissed it. “Because I can’t stop imagining how good it’ll look with a ring on it.”

His answer appeased you which led you to your conditions of your proposal. Angel listened eagerly and ingrained each requirement in his head. There was no way he was gonna mess this up.

He hadn’t been shopping for it, he just accidentally stumbled on it while at the mall. Weeks later, Angel finally found the perfect engagement ring for you. He was so excited that he planned to propose that night, but your nails weren’t done and one of your requirements were to make sure your nails weren’t ‘raggedy’ as you would put it.

Then another couple of weeks later the opportunity presented itself. You were on your lunch break and you came to the clubhouse to spend it with him and the guys. Your mouth was full of tacos like chipmunk cheeks while you yelled ‘No fucking way!’ at Coco and Angel thought there was no one he rather spend the rest of his days with.

He did a quick check of your nails and they still look good from the day before. Yeah there were people around, but it was people you and him consider family. Your hair was done, and you had a nice outfit on, so all the boxes were checked.

“Querida,” he called out to you to stop you from arguing with Coco.

“Yeah babe?” You turned to him and found him on one knee. “Oh my god!” You jumped up and started wiggling around doing some weird celebratory dance.

The guys turned to see what was happening and they all cracked a smile. “About damn time.” Coco slapped the back of Angel’s shoulders. The rest of the Mayans came out with their guns out when they heard your screams, but quickly put them away when they saw what was happening.

Each time Angel tried to say something you would just squeal and continue dancing, not giving him a chance to get one-word in. “Prospect, get her.” Bishop ordered, seeing how uncomfortable Angel was getting from kneeling on the gravel.

EZ wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other over your mouth. “I know you’re excited to be my sister-in-law, but you can’t say yes if he can’t ask the question. So, can you be quiet and be still?” You nodded your head fervently and EZ released you.

“Thanks, bro.” Angel cleared his throat before looking at you. He was getting nervous again, but then he saw how you had to contain your excitement and he was overwhelmed with love again. “You know I’m not good with words and shit, but I’ll try. You’re my everything, Y/N. You’re my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. I honestly can’t think of my life without you because it would be too depressing. God, I hope this isn’t too corny, but here it goes: what’s the point of an angel if there’s no heaven? So, with that being said, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Angel was lucky he started to stand up because you tackled him once he slid the ring on. He was attacked with kisses all over his face and he wondered how could he had been worried about you saying no at all.

“You know you’re gonna be stuck with me forever, right?”

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine with that. What’s the point of heaven if I don’t have my Angel with me?” Forever with Angel sounded like paradise and you couldn’t wait.

Tagging: @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @sadeyesgf @woahitslucyylu @starrynite7114 @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @richonne4life @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @brownsugarcoffy @thesandbeneathmytoes @fvckthisbxtchup @theartisticqueen

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fandom #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic

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sixteenthshen · 3 years

Text

i need help

I read a post on Zhihu last night - “How to evaluate the finale of Word of Honor?” The top commenter’s writing just killed me.

Heavy spoilers for episode 33/34. There’re no spoilers for the episodes after that, but I can’t guarantee this if there are replies.

The rest hidden behind a cut.

I don’t need help explaining the finale or the happy ending, bad ending whatever it is, I’ve found my own way to come to terms with it. But I can’t accept what happened in 33/34 and the lack of follow up on the core of the issue, and that’s blocking me from enjoying the “HE”. To be fair, I think I may be a bit hormonal? Because this is really making me feel like crap.

-----

This is a comment made by a Chinese user on Zhihu:

I only want to say; the show might as well have ended when A-Xu jumped down the cliff after WKX. Even though it's a bit lame, at least the soulmate feelings were still there.

The grand finale basically destroyed the soulmate bond built up over 20+ episodes. The essence of it is gone; all of the "candy" and "knives" feel like they've been stripped away.

I've written so much about WKX & ZZS and how they were both falling for each other, saving each other. And now it all looks like a big joke.

It turns out ZZS's soulmate is ZZH, not WKX. The mountains and rivers in the world can't compare to meeting my soulmate. Since my soulmate is gone, I might as well die. (Play on the quote from the drama, instead of why should I live, it becomes I should just die)

(The poster starts talking to ZZS directly - referring to him as you) You're really a mistreated (tortured?) concubine, aren't you? Once you decide to give your whole heart, whole person away, you somehow always end up meeting some fake evil bastard (reference to Farewell my Concubine, basically that ZZS always ends up being suckered)

When you first fell into Prince Jin's trap, it's because you were young and not yet wise to the ways of the world, and believed in the grand words of your cousin and got conned into the world of politics. Sinking into the dirtiest, muddiest of marshes.

You plotted tirelessly for 18 months, suffered through 18 months of pain from the 7 nails, and finally exchanged it for 3 years of freedom. But when you met WKX, you fell right back in again.

Heraclitus said, "You cannot step into the same river twice" <<(I think this person mixed up the meaning of this quote, cause it doesn't fit, but basically intends to say people shouldn't make the same mistake twice)

The first time you stepped into the river, you got away with only half your life. The next time you stepped into the river, you nearly lost your life 4x (under YBY's sword, when you jumped off the cliff to your death for love, pulling out your nails, exploding the mountain to cause an avalanche + suicide), in the end you became a living dead person on Changming mountain.

I don't know if I should call you a living dead man, anyway, in my heart, once you pulled out the nails from your body, cutting off any other alternative you had just to help WKX take revenge… while WKX came back from the dead, and worked with everyone present at the scene to give the performance of a lifetime, you were already dead.

What a mockery, a farce.

You gave up everything but in the end, you were nothing more than a spectator.

He wanted you to give him face, to let him go home to explain things. You quietly stepped aside and gave him the stage. He wanted your baiyi sword to demonstrate his family's sword technique, to prove his identity. You gave it to him without a second word. He cut Zhao Jing's arms and legs tendons, crippled his martial arts, finally took revenge. You were happy for him despite everything.

When Mo Huaiyang accused him of being the Ghost Valley Master, he openly admitted to it and said the entire first part was just an act. You stood in front of him, to protect him. Said he is your shidi, and stood with him without any reservations.

But he had secretly already reached an agreement with Ye Baiyi. He knew YBY wouldn't hurt him, but you didn't know and yet you still shielded him. So terribly afraid that YBY would hurt him because of his identity.

Everyone knew this was part of the scheme he laid out, everyone participated in his scheme. Only you didn't know. Only you foolishly believed that he wouldn't be alright without you, that he needed you to help him take revenge. That he had his difficulties so he couldn't confess the truth to you, as long as he did, then you would be the first to know everything. That he was your soulmate. This word "soulmate", if said enough times, it would even be real. In this life, right up until the end, we can't even fully understand ourselves, how do we talk about others?

-----

the source is the top voted answer here. I like this poster a lot, she shared some great things throughout the course of the drama, 3 of which were the base of poems-related posts I’ve made here. I was doing fine before, but in the course of translating this answer for a friend, I made myself feel worse.

She later forced herself to look at it from WKX’s perspective and wrote a piece on it as well, but it... was very forced and I’m not too sure she even believed it herself. She ended that part with - “this made her feel very keenly that no matter how similar two souls may be, in the end, they are still two souls. He isn’t you and he will never be you. You can work endlessly and tirelessly to be closer, but your souls can never meet.”

I... I’m too sad to translate the WKX part in order to be fair to WKX in this post (if I feel better about it, i will later? but it didn’t make me feel better at all tbh)

Can someone who can articulate well and believe that what WKX did was right, please help to make me understand episodes 32-34 from his perspective?

My main issues are:

We never got a proper 1-to-1 discussion between WKX and ZZS over the issue. At first, they were celebrating as a group, I can accept it. There wasn’t a time or place.

But when ZZS went back to his room early and sober, when everyone else was still drinking and having fun, I felt so bad for him.

When WKX came into his room, looking for ZZS when drunk, I know it isn’t supposed to be like this - but I can’t help but feel he didn’t dare to talk to A-Xu 1-to-1. Instead he went when he was drunk to spill his heart. It can be thought of as sweet, because the first person he thinks of when he’s drunk is A-Xu... but I can’t help but find it very selfish, because it leaves A-Xu with no way to talk about things. If you’ve ever talked to a drunk while sober, you would understand what I mean, it’s a one-way conversation, you can’t get anything through.

But that conversation left A-Xu with enough guilt that he can’t come clean to WKX about what he did. How can he tell WKX that he pulled out his nails, and is about to die. To take away WKX’s happiness, when Lao Wen just told him about how happy he was to have him in his life?

Lao Wen had 0 intention to be cruel, but it ended up being more cruel. And this lack of a proper discussion between the two of them, makes me call into question the whole thing about soulmates. I believe Lao Wen loves A-Xu the best he can (with his somewhat emotionally stunted self), but he’s not putting himself in the other person’s shoes to care for them.

Love =/= care. And by not caring enough in this matter, I feel it’s thrown him into OOC. Where is the WKX who cared so much for ZZS at the start? Where is the tenderness?

The drama never properly addressed why WKX faked his death and not tell A-Xu. The only reason they gave was that A-Xu was heavily injured (through Wu Xi). WKX just admitted he was wrong (and should drink). That’s all.

Thankssss.

Please don’t preach to me about the happy ending or talk about the finale. I personally can’t resolve 32-34, I have found a way to accept the ending as long as I can accept these 3 episodes.

I may not be able to immediately accept your POV but I will force myself to try to find something that fits. I want to keep shipping wenzhou :(

#i'm not even checking my own grammar cause this is making me too emo #WKX fans and stans #please help #i added a sad gif of a-xu #because he's sad

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blitzturtles · 3 years

Text

Title: Get What You Need (Ao3)

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Vento Aureo

Pairing(s): GioMis or Giorno & Mista (Platonic or Pre-Relationship)

Summary: “All of them,” Giorno breathes the words in a near rush of panic. His stomach turns at merely hearing the list. His resolve crumbles in an instant, and it’s only worsened when he makes the mistake of looking down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. He picks idly at the cuticle of one thumb with the nail of the other in a desperate attempt to keep himself calm. The more worked up he gets, the worse the cramps are, and they’re already rolling through him too often to be ignored.

Notes: Trigger Warnings: Dysphoria; Gio experiences quite a bit of it, and it's not very nice.

Guess who had a period from hell.

Trigger Warnings: Gender dysphoria! Giorno struggles with it quite a bit throughout the fic.

1. Bucci's also trans, 2. Polnareff is alive (so is everyone else for that matter.), and 3. Bruno being trans is not a secret/Mista isn't actually outing him here.

“I would like to rearrange a few meetings,” Giorno says, choosing his words carefully, so he can gauge Polnareff’s reaction.

Without missing a beat, Polnareff answers, “Of course. Which were you interested in moving? There’s the two after lunch, the one with Dura at three, and Abba-”

“All of them,” Giorno breathes the words in a near rush of panic. His stomach turns at merely hearing the list. His resolve crumbles in an instant, and it’s only worsened when he makes the mistake of looking down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. He picks idly at the cuticle of one thumb with the nail of the other in a desperate attempt to keep himself calm. The more worked up he gets, the worse the cramps are, and they’re already rolling through him too often to be ignored.

Polnareff looks momentarily surprised, but he schools his expression quickly and reaches underneath his chair to where he keeps a notebook safely tucked away. He pulls his pen from the spiral binding and looks to Giorno with sheer determination.

“Any-- preferences? On when I reschedule these to?”

“Two or three days from now at the earliest,” Giorno knows it’s risky. A bad idea at best and a great way to destroy several very fragile relationships at worst, but he’s reaching a breaking point. His eyes are already burning, and he can’t ignore the hopeless feeling gripping him any more than he can ignore the way blood continues to fill the pad he’s wearing. He’s too hyper-aware of both, and there’s nothing worse than showing weakness in front of a pack of dogs, most of whom were raised by the streets in some form or fashion. With the exception, of course, of the nepotistic sort, though Giorno doesn’t generally think much of them. They’re certainly not the threat that the others can be when left unchecked.

Polnareff, to his credit, only nods and makes a note of the request. He pauses a moment, clearly chewing something over in his mind, and it’s likely only their close relationship that allows him to ask, “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” which is a non-answer, but it’s the best Polnareff is getting from him when he feels like this: weak, vulnerable. Disgusting. Wrong. If he could tear the skin off his body, he would.

Polnareff nods again. There’s a lingering look in his good eye that Giorno thinks might be concern. Possibly displeasure at being blatantly left in the dark when it’s Polnareff’s job to be as informed as possible, though the man says nothing of it and simply wishes Giorno well before departing from the office altogether. He uses Chariot to open the door for him and wheels away without any actual protest.

It’s all Giorno can do to hold his breath until the moment the door clicks shut, and he deflates immediately over the edge of his desk. He slumps forward on the wood and tries hard to bite back the quiet, senseless sobs that bubble up in his chest. It’s ridiculous. The whole thing is ridiculous. He should be able to handle this, even if it has been awhile. He can’t fall apart the moment his period decides to rear its ugly head as one of the worst reminders of what he isn’t. What he fails to be. Yet here he is, crying over his desk like a child, though his sobs are silent. Even now, years later, he hasn’t shaken that habit.

______

Mista startles out of his light doze thanks to a text. He flails about uselessly, arms smacking into the side door of the car before he remembers where he is (and who he’s with, if the short-tempered, “Watch it!”, is anything to go by). It takes him another moment to figure out where he left his phone, and it’s only because of Five that he finds it at all.

“Thanks, buddy,” he says as he pulls the screen up for the last message he received. He blinks in surprise at the body of the first text.

Meetings are canceled.

Under any other circumstance, Mista would be hooping and hollering in delight. Meetings being canceled means that Mista doesn’t have to stand around pointlessly for hours while some morons try to talk circles around Giorno of all people, but there’s a gnawing worry that grows in his gut. Giorno doesn’t cancel meetings unless he’s physically unable to be there. Usually when a mission has carried over and kept them from home for too long. The next text does little to quail his anxiety.

You should check in on him anyway.

Mista doesn’t need to be told who ‘him’ is, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s already planning on it once they get back to the mansion.

______

Giorno extracts himself from his desk after a few more minutes of self-pity. There’s only so much of it he can stand at any given time. More importantly, he doesn’t want anyone to happen by before he has a chance to compose himself, which is exactly what he does. He pulls a small mirror from his desk and grimaces at the red, puffy eyes that look back at him.

He’s part way through fixing his hair when another cramp hits. Sharp and agonizing with the way it pierces through his middle and spreads outwards, toward his hips. He doubles over with his arms hugging around his middle. It’s instinct more than anything. God knows it doesn’t help alleviate the pain any.

It takes him a solid sixty seconds before he can work up the courage to unravel. He half expects the next wave to roll through him the moment he does, but there’s a blessed lack of follow up. For the time being. He doesn’t expect that to last. It never does.

His chest aches with the effort that it takes to keep his breathing even. The binder isn’t helping, but he’s not about to try to wiggle out of it in his office. His only option is to get himself up and back to his bedroom, but that sounds like a momentous task on it’s own. Somehow he has to get there without being brought to his knees by cramps or hit with another wave of despair or-- well, being perceived at all. One look at his face will give him away. Maybe they won’t know why, but they’ll know that something is wrong, and that’s bad enough.

He finally manages to get his hair to a presentable level again when someone knocks on the door to his office, and his heart drops down to his stomach. He glances back at the mirror one more time before shoving it in his desk. His eyes are definitely still puffy, though some of the redness has dissipated.

“Giorno?” Mista asks, poking the door open slightly when Giorno doesn’t immediately respond. It’s only then that Giorno realizes that his voice is caught in his throat, and he gets a second, far more concerned call of his name for his hesitance.

“I’m fine,” he says quickly. Too quickly. Mista might not read people as well as Bucciarati, but he’s still acutely aware of certain details (the ones that matter! Mista’s voice echoes in his head.)

“Uh,” Mista starts, a little lamely, but he quickly shakes off any reserves he has about being direct if his next words are anything to go by, “No offense, but you look like shit, so I’m pretty sure you’re not. Actually.”

Giorno falters slightly. He should have texted Mista after Polnareff left. Should have explained the situation in the vaguest possible terms. And definitely should have come up with an excuse. But he had done none of those things, and now he’s stuck with the repercussions of his own actions. Or inactions.

“It’s not important,” he tries. Pathetic as it is.

“You canceled all your meetings for today,” and Giorno supposes he set himself up for that. He hasn’t come up with an excuse yet, especially not one that adequately explains away his behavior.

Silence stretches between them. Giorno for lack of an answer, and Mista because he seems to expect Giorno to cave. To the Don’s great horror, he does just that.

“It really isn’t that big of a deal. I’m just--” only, before he can finish speaking, another cramp grabs hold and twists mercilessly until he’s gasping and leaning forward with both hands clenching at the edge of his desk. He closes his eyes, as if to shut out the pain, or possibly the reality of the situation as it registers in the back of his mind.

“Giorno!” Mista calls, loud and panicked. He lunges forward to close the gap between them, though he hesitates once he’s within touching distance. “Giorno?”

“I’m fine, just-- cramps,” Giorno confesses, grinding his teeth together as the next one rips through him. Equally as painful as the last and as impossible to ignore. He feels his cheeks burn the way his eyes are once again, and all he wants is to crawl under his desk and hide away from the world. It’s not often that he wishes he could be nobody again, but now is certainly one of those times.

“Cramps?” Mista asks with confusion evident in his voice, but then his eyes go wide. He scans Giorno over, as if that might give him the affirmative he needs. “Like Bucci’s?”

Giorno doesn’t actually know what that means, but he nods anyway. Close enough, and it means he doesn’t have to explain anything else.

“Okay, okay, shit--!” Mista sounds a bit more panicked now. More like how Giorno feels being flayed open like this in front of one of the people he actually cares about. Whose opinion actually means something to him. “God, he hasn’t had them in so long. Fuck, uh? Heat. Oh, and we should probably get you into something more comfortable. Have you taken anything?”

What?

Giorno’s mind skips and stutters into a complete stall. He’s not sure what Bucciarati has to do with anything, but he’s suddenly sure that the answer is more closely linked than he had originally thought.

“Gio?”

“Yes,” Giorno grinds out, because he did, though he’s nearing the end of the four hour period before he can take the next dose, and he’s tempted to swallow as much as he can fit into his fist. The damage is something he can deal with later. With his Stand, but he knows it won’t help. The efficacy of such medication is limited, but it hurts. It hurts, and he’s just outed himself to one of his closest friends with no warning. No preparation. Anxiety works its way up his throat, and he thinks, for a moment, that he might be sick.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” Mista says, bringing Giorno back out of his thoughts and back into reality. He tugs gently at Giorno’s upper arm.

Giorno lets himself be pulled up to his feet with a sort of numbness spreading through him. For all the panic that’s coursing through his veins, there is one, lucid thought: Mista isn’t upset. He’s taken the news and simply rolled with it like it means nothing. Like it doesn’t change anything, and Giorno doesn’t know how to handle that, so he just lets himself be pulled along. Out from behind his desk and toward the office entrance.

From there it’s a long, impossible trek to Giorno’s bedroom. One that requires breaks for the cramps that won’t let him off so easily. For a moment, he wishes it were a bullet tearing apart his insides. That, at least, he could do something about, but cramps are something else entirely. Using GE won’t get him anywhere. In fact, he’s pretty sure it’s made it worse in the past, when he’s tried out of pure desperation.

“I’m going to go grab a heating pad,” Mista starts once they reach Giorno’s bedroom, “You should get changed into something less-- tight. Got any stretchy pants?”

“My pajamas,” Giorno answers, more because it seems expected of him than because he’s actually paying attention.

“Perfect! I’ll be back in a minute.”

Giorno’s left standing there, a bit lost for what to do with himself, but the next shock of pain comes and fresh tears burn at the corners of his eyes, reminding him of the fact that he really doesn’t want to be in the middle of the hall, visibly crying for all to see. There’s a logical part of him that knows he wouldn’t be judged for it, but there’s a much louder part that reminds him that crying has never gotten him anywhere in life other than alone and miserable.

He turns the knob on his door and pushes it open after the agony subsides enough to allow him to move again. The first thing he does upon entering his room is seek out the pill bottle from earlier. A few minutes won’t make a difference, and he’s rapidly approaching the end of his rope. He can’t handle the pain on top of everything else.

Changing is a whole other problem. One that he hadn’t thought of as a problem until he’s standing there with his sleep clothes in hand and staring down at himself, realizing he’ll have to undress in order to redress (and is it really worth the effort? Worth seeing himself and his hips and his chest and--).

He peels out of his suit despite himself. He doesn’t want Mista to come back and push the subject. Then there’s the risk that Mista might not leave, which means Giorno will have to deal with an audience on top of having to suffer through his own self-hatred.

The binder stays on. Regardless of how uncomfortable and hot and painful he already is. He can’t handle the idea of taking it off right now, so he suffers for the little bit of mental peace that it brings him. The flattened chest makes up for the curve of his hips, though he finds himself flattening his hands over his waist anyway. Unable to stop himself from picking at every flaw when he’s already hormonal and all around having one of the worst days he’s had in awhile.

The knock at his door startles him into action, and he finishes getting dressed with a quick, “Hold on!”

A moment later has him opening the door to Mista’s grinning face.

“Found it,” Mista says as he holds up the box with a product image on it. Giorno doesn’t get a chance to observe more than the fact that it’s maroon before Mista drops it back down to his side and nods toward Giorno’s room.

Giorno steps out of the way to allow his (technically uninvited) guest in. Mista’s rambling on about something. Giorno isn’t sure what, though he catches ‘Bucciarati’ and ‘Trish’ in there somewhere, and there’s something about Abbacchio being unhelpful and half a dozen other things that fall on deaf ears.

“Oh, and you got changed, good,” Mista finishes with another one of his goofy smiles. The corners of his eyes pull oddly, giving away something else that he’s trying to hide under all the babbling and warmth. Worry persists, despite knowing the truth. Giorno can’t understand why. Cramps aren’t that big of a deal; even if he’s made them out to be in his own head.

“Yeah, it’s helping a little, thanks,” Giorno says when Mista looks at him with some sort of expectation in his eyes. Giorno’s usually better at reading people than this, but he feels like he’s moving in water. Too slow and with too much drag. He can’t keep up with the world around him, and it’s all overwhelming pressure and not enough time. Time to process, time to breathe. He loops back around to the fact that he came out to someone on the Team no more than ten minutes ago, yet Mista is unflinching and unconcerned. He hasn’t brought it back up, since he learned about it, in fact. Hell, he’s acting like all of this is completely normal, despite Giorno being almost completely certain that Mista is cis.

“Earth to Giorno,” Mista calls, voice soft with that same worry now seeping into his tone.

“Sorry,” Giorno says quickly, “I was--”

“Off in lala land?”

“Something like that,” though he thinks that sounds substantially more pleasant than all the thoughts racing through his mind.

Mista watches him for a long, uncomfortable moment. It’s times like these where Giorno gets reminded of just how much Mista likes to play dumb, when he’s anything but. He might not have the book smarts that Fugo has, but Mista is brilliant in so many other ways. Ways that are working against Giorno right now.

“You know, if you want to talk about it…”

“I-” Giorno cuts off and groans. He quickly takes a seat on the edge of his bed and sticks his head down between his knees, folding himself in half in an attempt to apply enough pressure to alleviate some of the pain.

“Oh, shit, here,” Mista moves to find an outlet and digs out the heating pad from its box. He hooks it up quickly and hands it to Giorno. The fabric of its exterior is surprisingly soft in Giorno’s hands, and he’s quick to tuck it between his abdomen and his thighs.

“Thank you,” he breathes out after several seconds pass and heat finally starts to spread across the pad.

“No problem,” Mista says quietly. More subdued than he typically is. He moves to sit on the bed beside Giorno and places a hesitant hand on his back, where he rubs gentle circles until he can feel some of the tension ease out of his Don’s muscles.

It’s quiet for a long while. Giorno basks in the relief the pad and pain killers offer. It’s the first time in over an hour that he’s been able to simply breathe through the worst of the cramps each time they hit. Though his chest continues to ache, the change is nonetheless a welcomed one. The sensation of heat spreading across his abdomen is enough of a distraction to keep him out of his own head. For a short while, at least.

“Earlier, you said something about Bucciarati,” Giorno starts, nervous and unsure of how to broach the topic.

“Oh yeah, Bucci used to get cramps real bad, too,” Mista says without hesitation. Without any hint whatsoever that he finds what he’s said to be unusual.

“Is he--?”

“Oh, shit,” Mista’s hand stills on his back, and Giorno gnaws suddenly at his lip, afraid he’s somehow messed with something he shouldn’t have. “Uh, technically that’s probably not my place to say? But he’s not exactly hiding it, Gio. He’s got scars and everything.”

Scars? Oh.

Oh.

Giorno feels his face flush, this time out of a different sort of embarrassment. Sure, he had seen the scars before, but they were light. Old and well healed, probably through the help of Sticky Fingers, and it’s not as though Bucciarati isn’t covered in dozens of others. Most of them silver from age, but there all the same. It had never once occurred to Giorno that the two on his chest, which peek out just a bit underneath the classic lingerie that Bucciarati always wears, are anything purposeful.

“I didn’t realize,” Giorno admits after a moment, when that little fact is probably very obvious and unnecessarily verbalized, but he doesn’t know what else to say to fill the silence. His own head is much louder. Full of racing thoughts and flashes of memories.

“Maybe you should talk to him about it sometime?” Particularly in moments like these; Mista spares his emotions by keeping that part to himself, but Giorno’s thinking it all the same.

To imagine that he’s been doing all of this in silence since meeting Bucciarati and his Team. To think that he could be so dense as to dismiss the signs that he isn’t alone. He only wishes he had realized sooner, even if he isn’t sure what it would have changed. He’s not sure he could have broached the subject then. He’s not sure he could do it now. Mista only found out because of circumstance.

Still. There’s someone just like him, and they live under the same roof. “I should,” he agrees, because he really should, hang-ups aside.

“Hey, you wanna try laying out? ‘Cause, no offense, man, but that looks super uncomfortable.” Mista asks after a beat of silence. He’s never one to let it go on for too long, and he’s rarely deterred by any uncomfortableness that might be lingering.

Giorno nods his head after a moment and slowly sits up. He moves his hands to hold the heating pad against his abdomen and breathes a small sigh of relief when the pain doesn’t immediately crowd in on him again. He carefully stretches himself out across the bed, despite how painfully aware of Mista’s presence he is. It’s weird to be laying out, so physically vulnerable, and it makes him acutely aware of all the things he wishes he could forget. (Is the outline of his binder visible? What about the shape of his hips? Does lying down like this make it that much more obvious how slight Giorno is?)

Once he’s lying back fully, he lets go of the pad, allowing it to rest on top of him on its own. The next wave of pain is far more manageable than the last several have been, and he merely winces in response.

“Those must suck, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“I really don’t,” Mista agrees, “Though Trish and Bucci make it out to be pretty shitty, so.”

“I think I prefer being stabbed.”

Mista winces at the thought, “For what it’s worth, I’d rather you weren’t.”

Giorno lets out a startled laugh, but he gets Mista’s point. He kind of wishes his bodyguard weren’t so prone to being shot with multiple bullets on a regular basis. Unfortunately for both of them, they can’t always get what they want.

The quiet that settles over them this time is much more peaceful. Giorno closes his eyes and relaxes into the mattress. It’s the best he’s felt all day. Physically, anyway. There’s plenty for him to work through otherwise, but he doesn’t want to think about that right now. Instead, he focuses on the lessening cramps until they’ve all but died off entirely. Exhaustion takes hold of him then. It’s still far too early in the day to sleep, but a nap is beginning to sound like a good idea.

Before he can think about drifting off fully, he cracks his eyes open to peek at Mista, “Thank you.”

Mista beams at him from where he’s gone and laid out next to Giorno, “Anytime, GioGio. Anytime.”

#giomis #misgio #giorno giovanna #guido mista #jjba #vento aureo #team bucci #jean pierre polnareff #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jjba part 5 #part 5 #golden wind #blitzwrites #blitz

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halloweenhoneylover · 4 years

Text

the closing shift

summary: coffeeshop au babey!! spencer and reader are nerds in love who also work at the campus cafe together (spencer reid x fem!reader)

word count: 2.7k

author’s note: this one’s for u, anon!!! sorry if this is lame, i normally don’t like coffeeshop au’s but here we are. also a warning: there is a lot of doctor who junk in here and also it’s incredibly self-indulgent but i don’t care :)

“So what you’re saying is you don’t like the power of love and human goodness?”

Spluttering frustratedly, Spencer frowned at you, “Of course, that’s not what I’m saying. I just think that the special effects were cheesy and the plot was sometimes a little silly!”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment before relenting with a sigh, focusing back on the counter you were wiping down. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit that the Slitheen really did not look good, and that maybe ‘Love and Monsters’ was one of the stupidest episodes of television I’ve ever watched, but you have to admit that Ten’s monologue in ‘The Satan Pit’ was one of the best pieces of writing in the whole show. ‘If I believe in one thing, I believe in her?’ How were you not screaming at your TV when you watched that!”

Spencer lips curled into a small smile as you continued rambling and absent-mindedly cleaning the counter. You were not doing a very good job, but he wasn’t about to stop your spiel. It wasn’t often he was on the receiving end of a ramble, and as someone who was frequently told to shut up, he would never interrupt, especially when it was about his favorite show. Especially when it was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. No, he’d sit quietly and listen, thank you very much.

“Okay,” she brought her full attention back to Spencer. “I’ll forgive you for your horrible offence. If you take back what you said.”

She looked so intently in his eyes, so sincerely his knees wobbled a little. The full force of her attention was like the sun. He felt warm inside and out, but he might be burned from the intensity of its direct glare.

“Fine, season two of Doctor Who is not a complete abomination.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up in a satisfied smirk. “Well, thank you, Dr. Reid. I appreciate the kind words.”

He nodded, turning to the back room. He’d almost made it through the doorway before he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “But season eight is better.”

A melodramatic gasp, and he felt a rag hit the back of his head, and he chuckled.

“You take that back, Spencer Reid!”

Making his way further in, his fingers found the knot behind his back, quickly untying and shrugging off the apron. “(Y/N), I only speak the truth. I’m a man of science, and science says that season eight is simply superior.”

You laughed along with him, murmuring grievances against this idiot genius. You reached behind yourself, fingers fumbling with the knot. After a couple unsuccessful attempts, you huffed and asked, “Hey, Spencer, do you think you could help me with my apron? I tied the stupid thing too tightly.”

He gulped, mumbling a sure thing in a way he hoped was nonchalant, but knowing himself, was anything but. Walking up behind you, he felt himself involuntarily shudder at your proximity, and he said a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in to try to keep his cool. You felt his fingers brush against your lower back, and you tried, gosh, you tried so hard to not audibly gasp (you’re not sure you succeeded). The brief contact unfortunately flooded your mind with thoughts about his long fingers that you had often admired (discreetly), and you thought about what it’d be like for him to touch you and for him to mean it, and you nearly passed out. The silence was deafening, which was funny because it seemed like you two could never shut up around each other, and the one time you needed to fill the tense air with something, there was nothing.

Finally finished with the knot, Spencer softly tapped your back twice with his index. “All done.” It came out as a whisper. He couldn’t have managed more.

“Thanks!” You spoke at normal volume and tried to put you back into regular conversation, but breaking the eerie quiet, it sounded like you were shouting.

He shot you a tight-lipped smile. “Are you all good to close up?”

“Yeah, I can hold down the fort,” you said rather breathlessly, returning his smile.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he pushed open the back door and waved. “See you Thursday!”

“See ya.”

As soon as the door shut, you heaved a sigh of relief and let the tension out of your shoulders, staring at the ground. You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes. Why did you freeze up like that? Why was it weird when he left? Why did you like him so much?

———

Thursday was Spencer’s favorite day of the week. The dining hall stocked chocolate donuts with rainbow sprinkles on Thursdays. He had his chemistry seminar with his favorite professor on Thursdays. Caltech’s chess club met on Thursdays. He worked his shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.

(You worked the same shift at The Campus Grind on Thursdays.)

Did Spencer really need a job? No, his education was entirely paid for by the school because when you have a child prodigy on your hands, you should try to keep them. And he lived in on-campus housing and ate on campus, and he didn’t have a lot of other expenses. But his advisor told him that he might get something out of doing a job that didn’t require 100% of his brain power, might get to rest his mind for a couple hours every week. He might also make a friend.

What he had not anticipated when he started at one of the various campus cafes was meeting you. He showed up to his first shift and nearly choked when he saw arguably the most beautiful girl he had ever met in the backroom putting on an apron. Your eyes lit up when you saw him. “Hey, you must be Spencer! I saw our names together on the schedule a couple times, looks like we’re gonna be work buddies!”

By the time you turned back to speak to your guys’ new manager, he noticed his jaw was completely slack, and he hoped his mouth had not been hanging too long. He also blacked out too long to ask for your name, which he was internally hitting himself over. And he hazily drifted through the training, his mind barely focusing on the coffee. To say he was distracted by the girl next to him and the way she smelled like coconuts and cotton was a major understatement. Times like these were humbling for a twenty-year-old with two and a half PhDs.

He could barely recall anything that happened until they were cleaning out the espresso machine together silently, and he was struck with a sudden need. “Hey, I never caught your name…”

“Right! My name is (Y/N),” she answered, offering him a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

Neither spoke after that, both working quietly next to each other. Spencer sighed internally, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he hoped they wouldn’t spend the semester in silence. And like some higher power was listening to his wishes, you turned to him, “So, Spencer, what are you majoring in?”

Hesitant to scare you off, he tiptoed around the subject. “Right now, I’m studying chemistry.”

“Right now?”

He glanced over at you, and despite knowing you for the entirety of ten minutes, he couldn’t deny you or the inquisitive gleam in your eye even if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to. “I’m working on my PhD in chemistry. I already have two in mathematics and engineering. Oh, and I have two BA’s in psychology and sociology.” He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the dumbfounded look on your face, and he swallowed harshly. “Um, uh—what uh, what are you studying?”

You let out a brief laugh, and for a moment, he cringed, wondering if you were laughing at him. But just a look at you and the tenderness of your features, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Blowing a puff of air out, you grinned gently, “Well, your PhD’s are putting my bachelor’s to shame, so I’m not sure I want to say.”

“No, I’m sure whatever you’re studying is cool,” he reassured you.

Pleasantly surprised by the humility of your new genius coworker, you continued, “I appreciate it. I tend to err on the side of the humanities, not much of a STEM gal myself, and right now,” you both chuckled at your little joke, “I’m studying history and political science.”

“So am I standing in the presence of a future lawyer, or maybe the next president of the United States?”

“Good question, but I’m not sure. Would you vote for me?”

Squinting at you for a moment, he nodded slowly, “Yeah, I think I would. You’ve got a kind face.”

You raised your eyebrows at that, trying to suppress a blush. “A kind face?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, eyes flicking over your face. You felt shy under his gaze; it’s not everyday a hot genius boy stares you down and tells you you have a ‘kind face.’

Ducking your head, you fought a smile. “Alright, I’ll take it.”

And from then on, something clicked. You and Spencer talked for hours and hours during your shifts, joking and teasing (and grinning and blushing). He looked forward to working because that meant a chance to see you. (Except for Mondays, that was the one shift you didn’t have together, and it made Spencer want to scream. The dude he worked with, Andy, was nice enough, but the hours seemed to drag on when he didn’t have you to discuss weird sci-fi movies with.)

He was particularly looking forward to this Thursday because he knew you had a big presentation in your class about African revolution, and he wanted to hear all about it. In the brief moments of spare time at the cafe, he had helped you prepare and had listened to bits and pieces of it. This morning he’d sent you a quick good luck! text, to which you’d responded with thanks!!! and a stream of various heart emojis. He had learned early on that you were very fond of emojis, but it never stopped his heart from skipping a beat when you’d send him little hearts and smileys.

Entering the back room, he set his backpack on a hook and started to get ready for his shift. He gave a quick wave to the people from the last shift as they left, and he felt a little worry boiling in his gut because if they had left, that meant you were late, and you were never late. He wondered if something had happened in your presentation, and he was filled with dread. Solitarily manning the counter, he was ensnared in his thoughts; he couldn’t stand the idea of something going wrong and you being upset, so upset that you couldn’t come to work. He shifted uncomfortably, hand itching to grab his phone and send you a text to see if you were okay when he heard a door slam and a shriek from the backroom. “Spencer!”

Immediately, he ran to the back, expecting the worst, and he nearly fell over when you ran at him full-speed to launch into a hug. “Oof—” He recovered though, catching you, and he wrapped his arms around you so tightly and cradled the back of your head in his hand. His heart stuttered. He could get used to this.

You buried your face into his neck. “Oh, Spencer, you won’t believe it. My presentation went so well! My professor held me after class and told me I was one of his brightest students, and oh, I just don’t believe it!” He felt your face warm against him as you gushed.

“I believe it, I don’t doubt it for a second. You are so smart, (Y/N). I’m so proud of you. You deserve it.”

Breathing him in for just a moment longer, you finally released him, and both of you thought how everything feels a little emptier now that you weren’t holding each other. He couldn’t help but beam at you, though.

“Really, (Y/N), I’m so proud of you.”

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit! It’s all thanks to you being patient enough to hear me blabber on and practice, so thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He got incredibly flustered at the title and hesitated over his next words before settling on a soft anytime. And he meant it.

———

The rest of your shift that day was less eventful. You recounted some of the highlights of your presentation, to which Spencer listened with rapture. There was some discussion of who was at chess club today and if anyone there was a true match for Spencer (no one was). You played your favorite game called “Who Can Make the Most Disgusting Drink Out of Four Ingredients?” (You won with a mixture of coffee, coffee grounds, an excessive amount of salt, and raspberry syrup. (Ew, (Y/N) why is it grainy?)) And now nearing midnight, you sat at one end of the bar reading your textbook while Spencer cleaned up various mugs and napkins. He snagged the broom from the backroom and began sweeping. With a quick glance up at you focused entirely on your book, he smiled softly. Pieces of your hair had drifted out from behind your ears and framed your face, and the apples of your cheeks were flushed. To put it simply, you looked ethereal, and Spencer didn’t think it should be possible for someone to look so beautiful at the end of a long day, but here you were, always defying expectations. He thought you looked like someone from those Renaissance paintings you loved so dearly, but he knew that even if someone tried to commit your grace to canvas, it’d be to no avail. He was sure no one would be able to do you justice.

Looking down at the floor he was supposed to be sweeping, he let his thoughts wander farther. He thought about what it would be like to hold you everyday like he did today. He’d be the luckiest man on Earth, that’s what. For so long he thought about asking you out, but then he knew that someone like you would never be interested in someone like him. But then again, you were the impossible girl. You never did quite what he expected. And he never expected you to be into him. So maybe for once in his life, he’d go out on a limb and ask you if you wanted to go get dinner with him sometime. He’d take you to the Indian place on 12th that he knew you loved, and you’d sit in the oddly formal, always empty restaurant and laugh and giggle together because that’s what you always did together, and then maybe, he’d invite you back to his place, so you could watch Doctor Who, or maybe do other things (like hold hands), who knows?

He found himself praying to that god he didn’t believe in once again to find the courage as he finished up sweeping, and after he put the broom away, he walked up to you with butterflies running rampant in his stomach, so he could barely muster a glance at you. But he was going to finally do it.

“(Y/N), I —”

And that’s when he noticed that you had fallen asleep on your book. It had been a long day for you. He felt his heart grow tender and soft and if someone poked it, it very well might explode. His thoughts strayed to your conversation the other day and the quote you loved so much. I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi-gods and would-be gods, and out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing, just one thing, I believe in her. He takes a step or two closer, and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear with the gentlest hand, he thinks, yeah. I believe in her.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #do people read things at 2 in the morning?#lets hope so!#bc that's the only time i write :)#my sleep schedule is not :) good :)

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