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inkskinned · 10 months

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no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

#spilled ink #writeblr #this is a real story lol #looking back i liked larry as a person SO much more than my ex hollyyyyy shitttt #compulsory heterosexuality will do you DIRTY #edit to correct effies name my apologies to effie and effies family

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morayofsunshine · 11 months

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*looks into camera and stares for a long time*

#not to be That Person and i understand the patterns people are talking about with kpop and vocalists #but if they're passing off generalizations as fact and saying not one 4th gen group with good vocalists can be named #then they have never listened to jongho sing ever. end of story.#plus . . . i think the attitude of 'idols aren't technically skilled enough so i think they're bad'#is someone's right to have it's their prerogative #but it also kinda contributes to the machinification of the kpop process and the pressure artists are put under #the kind that's like 'if their voice breaks once it follows them forever'#personally i focus more on if the music is composed in an interesting way and if the artists are super PASSIONATE about what they do #to me that's what makes Good Art #so i too don't like the way so many bg music is following patterns set by tiktok and nct #(mainly i don't like nct's genre no shade to the guys themselves)#and i think more vocal-heavy groups should debut #but i also think more credit should be given to groups that currently do have fantastic vocalists #(like jongho!!!!!!!)#and if u don't like the songs where he uses the top of his range there are also songs where he doesn't #but he should be allowed to experiment. i trust him to know what he's doing

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ineffable-gallimaufry · 5 months

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if they made a homestuck movie:

VOICEOVER: it's coming...

*two drum beats*

JOHN EGBERT: *puts the disk for sburb into his computer* i'm in

VOICEOVER: this summer

*two drum beats*

ROSE LALONDE: *rolls eyes* john, stop goofing around

VOICEOVER: prepare to be stuck...

*two drum beats*

JADE HARLEY: *wakes up and looks around*

VOICEOVER: at home

*two drum beats*

DAVE STRIDER: *spins record* woah, this is off the wall, yo

*shitty orchestral cover of sburban jungle plays*

ROXY: but you don't understand! this game is dangerous!

*cut to dave leaving his clone behind at his quest bed*

DAVE: i can't do it... i just can't kill another me...

*bec noir appears next to alt dave*

ALT DAVE: he's right behind me isn't he

*fades to black as bec noir slashes a sword at alt dave's neck*

*text on screen reads "ASCEND"*

*cut to rose in her shed*

JOHN: rose, the meteor's gonna hit!!

ROSE: *grabs computer* *rolls eyes*

*text on screen reads "DESCEND"*

*cut to scenes of the war on the chess field*

*text on screen reads "RISE UP"*

*cut to john, running out of his kitchen*

JOHN: these imps are everywhere!!

*text on screen reads "ABSCOND"*

ROSE: it's all over...

*cut to the various sprites being sprited*

*cut to jake kissing dirk's head*

DIRK STRIDER: *standing nearby* *coughs* awkward...

*cut to terezi and john after game over*

TEREZI: john, 1t's 4ll up to you now...

JOHN: *gasps*

*cut to john and dave hugging*

NEPETA: *grins* :33< i ship ittttt

KARKAT: *facepalm*

*cut to terezi and vriska facing off*

TEREZI: vr1ska, you c4n't do th1s!

VRISKA: watch me!

*montage of vriska doing a bunch of random and cool stuff*

VRISKA: i can do anything!!!!!!!!

*cut to grimdark rose and dave*

ROSE: to win... we're gonna have to blow up the sun

DAVE: awww snap

*text on screen reads "NIC CAGE"*

JOHN: and i mean, of COURSE con air is the best movie ever!! what other movie would you even suggest

*text on screen reads "LIL NAS X"*

DAVE: man, this isn't even the best song in obama's whole rap career

*text on screen reads "AMANDLA STENBERG"*

ROSE: *rolls eyes* whatever, mom! i'm summoning cuthulu!

*text on screen reads "ZENDAYA"*

JADE: *petting bec* oh, who's the best dog! is it you?

*a bunch more celebrity names on screen*

*text on screen reads "BASED ON THE WEBCOMIC BY ANDREW HUSSIE"*

ANDREW HUSSIE: *sitting in chair* wait, am i still in this movie? do i still die?

VOICEOVER: yes

HUSSIE: oh poop

*text on screen reads "HOMESTUCK: THE MOVIE"*

JOHN: we're gonna save the world... or die trying

*quick montage of every single death scene*

DAVE: i think we're gonna die trying

JOHN: daaaaveeee

*text on screen reads "COMING THIS SUMMER"*

*cut to dave beatboxing*

KARKAT: CAN YOU SHUT UP?!

DAVE: are you gonna make me?

NEPETA: :33< ooooh—

DAVE and KARKAT in unison: DON'T SAY IT

NEPETA: :33< ship it

*they both sigh*

*cut to black*

#homestuck #sorry this is horrible i didn't mean to bring it into the world #john egbert #rose lalonde #dave strider #jade harley #vriska serket #terezi pyrope #roxy lalonde #jake english #dirk strider #karkat vantas #nepeta leijon #this would be hilarious though because i don't even know HOW they would fit homestuck into a two and a half hour long movie #it would be impossible

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babyleostuff · 4 months

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౨ৎ voicemails kim mingyu leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, honey)

...one: you must've worn the hoodie i was wearing today right before i left because it smelled like you. it felt nice, kind of like you were here with me. wish you really were here though

...two: do you think it'll look weird if i put on some accessories for the encore today?

...three: i love you s'much. th's much (pause) wait you can't see. i swear 'm not that drunk jus' a bit. had a couple of drinks with the boys. jus' a couple. have i told you how much i love you? i love youuuu. mwah

...four: did you like the tik tok we posted with minghao today? i know you did. anyways, tell me about your day, i miss your voice

...five: i hope you're eating well honey, seriously you have to take care of yourself, and don't try to gaslight me into thinking that you're eating properly because i know you. i can't wait to come back and make a proper dinner for you.

...six: do you want to have a face time date tonight? i want to show you some of the gifts i bought for you

...seven: guess who almost fell off of the stage today. definitely not me (pause) definitely

...eight: is everything okay baby? you haven't called or texted today, i'm getting kind of worried. i know you might be busy, but please just let me know you're okay

...nine: i added some new songs to our playlist. i was listening to them on the way to the stadium and thought they would fit perfectly for our late night drives

...ten: do you miss me as much as i miss you?

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday

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formosusiniquis · 3 months

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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

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“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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reiderwriter · 5 months

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Please Accept My Apology

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.

You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)

You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.

“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”

You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.

Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.

For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.

“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”

“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.

“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”

You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.

He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.

You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.

He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.

He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.

Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.

“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.

You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.

You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.

You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.

“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.

“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”

He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”

“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.

“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”

He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.

“No, he doesn't, Agent.”

A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.

“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.

No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.

Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.

“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”

“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”

“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”

You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.

“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”

You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.

It was time to end this conversation.

“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”

He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.

“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”

He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.

Xxx

It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.

With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.

You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.

You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.

“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.

“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.

“I came to talk. May I come inside?”

“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.

You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.

Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.

“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.

You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.

Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.

“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”

Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”

“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.

“I was doing my job.”

“You almost got my brother killed.”

“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.

This was how close you needed him.

“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.

“You're enjoying this.”

“I'm not.”

“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”

His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.

It was more comfortable keeping him close.

“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”

“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”

“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”

“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”

“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”

“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”

“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”

“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.

You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.

“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”

“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”

You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.

Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.

He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.

“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”

“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.

“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.

You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.

“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”

His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.

His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.

You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.

“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.

As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.

His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.

His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.

“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.

“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”

His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.

“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.

“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.

“What?” You spat out.

“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”

His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”

“What about please?”

“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.

“No, shit, wait.-”

You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.

“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.

“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.

You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.

“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”

He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.

You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.

“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”

Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.

The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.

“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”

You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.

His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.

You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.

“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.

“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.

“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”

You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.

“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic

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harrysfolklore · 2 months

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Harry Styles Answers the Web's Most Searched Questions | WIRED

this was posted on my patreon a few months ago, enjoy ! MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hi I'm Harry Styles and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview."

Harry introduced himself to the camera and you smiled, you were currently at WIRED Studios for Harry's long awaited autocomplete interview that he finally agreed to do thanks to yours and his fans persistence.

You were sitting behind the camera with the rest of the crew, watching him with a small smile.

A crew member passed the first board to him, he looked at it confusedly for a minute before speaking.

"Okay so. I'm answering what I think or what?"

Everyone in the studio laughed and the director quickly explained to him how the game worked once again, you rolled your eyes with affection and he sent a wink your way.

"Alright, how is Harry Styles?" he said after taking the little piece of paper off the board, "I'm good, I'm really enjoying being home in London, I was away for a while on tour and I'm going to stay here for a bit so that's exciting."

"How did Harry Styles," he paused to rip the next paper and reveal the rest of the question, "Become famous? Well, when I was sixteen years old I auditioned for a singing show called The X Factor, I got put in a band with four lads and we didn't win but we put out a song called What Makes You Beautiful," he smiled for a second, "that one put us on the map, we released a bunch of albums and now I'm here."

"How did Harry Styles meet his wife?" at this, he turned his gaze to you to give you a big smile, you immediately mirrored his and nodded your head, signaling that you were okay with him talking about it.

"We could say that it was basically a blind date, we had a friend in common who thought we would be a good match and set us up, we had an amazing first date but then I had to travel to Los Angeles for work so we couldn't really see each other after that but once I was back in London we hung out all the time, and now we're married."

He smiled at you again and you couldn't help but feel your heart melt, you had been married for 6 months now but the married life was still new for the both of you, and everything he called you his wife butterflies made its way to your stomach.

"How is Harry Styles still alive?" his eyes widened in surprise and he looked around the room, making a few present laugh, "Um, that's a weird thing to search on the internet, but I guess, I don't know if I can answer that, I don't think anyone can answer that we're just lucky to still be around and enjoy life."

He gave the camera one of his infamous "frog smiles" and handed the board to a crew member who was ready with the next one.

"Does Harry Styles have tattoos?" he revealed the first question of the new board, "Yes, he does. I have a lot of tattoos actually, they're basically all over my body. The most recent one is right here," he pointed at the back of his right arm, "It's my wedding date, actually, everyone might call me a sap but I was reserving this arm for tattoos about my wife a and future kids, so I guess it's finally time to fill it."

It was safe to say that fans watching at home and everyone in the studio absolutely melted, especially you.

"Does Harry Styles have siblings? I do I have a sister, she's older than me and her name is Gemma. A lot of people claim she's cooler than me for some reason but I don't thing that's true," he shrugged and revealed the next question, "Does Harry Styles speak Italian? I would like to think that I do, I spend a lot of time there and I've learned how to communicate pretty decently."

"Is Harry Styles an actor?" he said after peeling the first sticker of the new board, "He tries to be an actor that's for sure," he laughed and everyone in the room did as well, "I mean, I've been in a couple of movies, I've auditioned for a bunch of roles and my agent has sent me scripts to go through," he shrugged "So I can say that makes me an actor."

"Is Harry Styles american?" he shook his head at that one, "He is not! He's Britain, born and raised okay? He's very proud of it."

"What's Harry Styles BeReal? I don't have a BeReal, but if I did I wouldn't tell you," he pointed to the camera jokingly, "What are Harry Styles fans called? I think they are referred to as Harries, but I don't like to speak on behalf of them, you should ask them."

"What was Harry Styles first song? My first song was Sign Of The Times, I wrote it with friends that I love, and that is my wife's favorite song I've ever written, right love?"

"That's correct." you said from your spot, pretty audible so you know it would make it to the final cut of the interview.

"What are Harry Styles songs about?" he peeled the last sticker of the board, "They're about a lot of things, life, friends, love, my wife," he shrugged, "I even have one about the female orgasm."

You quietly giggled, knowing that his fans would go crazy over that last sentence.

"Did Harry Styles go to college? He did not, he became a singer."

"Did Harry Styles win a Grammy? He somehow won Album Of The Year last year, which is absolutely insane if you ask him."

"Did Harry Styles finish high school? Oh I'm glad the internet asks," he laughed, "Contrary to popular belief I did finish high school, I completed my GCES and I graduated, I don't know why there's a rumor there that I didn't finish high school tho."

"Anyway, last one!" he comically threw the board to the floor and grabbed the final board a crew member was handling him, "Who is Harry Styles best friend? Um, I have a ton of best friends. Jeff who's also my manager, Mitch who plays in my band, my childhood best friend's name is Johnny, so yeah, I'm very lucky in the friends department, I love my friends."

"Who does Harry Styles look like? My mom, I would say. A lot of people point out that we have the same smile," he shrugged, "My mom is a beautiful woman so I'm flattered."

"Who did Harry Styles write Love Of My Life about? My wife and London."

"And final question," he slowly peeled off the sticker for dramatic effect, "Who does Harry Styles love? Okay, that's cute that people search for that on the internet, um, I love my family and friends, I love my wife that's for sure, I love making music and performing," he listed with his fingers, "And love love, yeah, love is great."

He smiled to the camera and put the board aside to say his goodbyes.

"I thought my Google searches were much more appropriate that I expected. I was fun to see what people wonder about me, so yeah thank you WIRED for having me."

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meangirls-imagines · 4 months

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Jealous, much?

18+ only. Smut ahead.

regina was pissed.

not mad, pissed.

she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

from her spot in the kitchen of whatever football player's house, she could clearly see gretchen grinding on y/n y/l/n.

it's not like she had the right to be mad at y/n. all she was to regina was a good hookup when aaron couldn't get the job done, which was 90% of the time. but regina couldn't help but feel anger and jealousy stir in her stomach. janis was right when she said regina was the apex predator of north shore, once she caught you, she refused to let go.

having become tired of seeing the two grind with each other, she decided to end it. finishing off her drink, she flipped her hair and made her way over to the pair. "gretchen, i heard jason was looking for you. you might wanna go find him." the girl gasped and ran off, looking for the sleazy boy.

y/n sighed as her dance partner ran off. "god, you can't let me have some fun?" regina took gretchen's place, smirking at how y/n was blatantly checking her out. she turned and began to grind her ass against y/n's front, making the girl groan. "you know, i'm no expert, but i don't think your boyfriend would like this gina."

regina felt heat shoot to her core at the sound of the nickname coming out of the girl's mouth. the blonde continued grinding on y/n, pulling the hottest sounds out of the girl's mouth. after the song ended, regina grabbed y/n's hand, pulling her up the stairs and into an empty bedroom. upon entering, y/n pushed regina up against the door, connecting their lips in a steamy kiss.

teeth and tongues clashed as the two made out against the door, y/n finally pushing regina on the bed, pushing the girl's dress up to her waist and burying her head in-between her legs.

regina ended up walking (limping) out of the bedroom and back to her boyfriend, who didn't even question anything.

the next day at school, regina couldn't stop thinking about y/n. unfortunately for her, she had no classes with the girl, only being able to see her at lunch. when she did finally see her, anger boiled up in her once again.

she was sitting next to gretchen when she finally caught sight of y/n. she was a few tables down from the plastics and saw that y/n was sitting awfully close to some girl named ashley, (according to gretchen). from what the blonde could see, ashley was running her hand up and down y/n's arm, purposefully pushing out her chest.

regina was steaming, no one was allowed to touch y/n like that besides her.

wait, what?

regina shook the thought off, getting up to get some cheese fries and a diet coke. walking back to her table, she would pass y/n and ashley. smirking to herself, she grabbed her diet coke and "tripped" spilling the can's contents on ashley, soaking her with the sticky liquid. the girl screamed and ran off to the bathroom, leaving a stunned y/n and smug regina behind. y/n looked up at the blonde and glared, before running off after ashley.

regina stood there, floored. why would y/n run after ashley when regina was standing right there?

later that day, after regina got home, she got bored and decided to text y/n to come over.

queen bitch👑: come over.

hottest person alive🥵: can't. hanging out with ashley.

queen bitch👑: ditch her and come let me sit on your face.

hottest person alive🥵: no.

regina was reaching her anger limit and decided to spice things up a bit. she unzipped the jacket she was wearing and pushed her breasts up with her arm, making them look bigger.

queen bitch👑:

please. i need you.

hottest person alive🥵: give me an hour.

regina fell back on her bed out of breath and sweaty. y/n kissed her inner thigh softly before standing to her feet, putting her clothes back on. regina watched with a pout on her face as the girl got dressed. "where are you going?" y/n sighed. "since someone was extremely demanding and needy, i have to make it up to ashley." regina scoffed at the mention of the girl.

y/n took notice. "are you mad or something?" regina scoffed once more. "no, why would i be mad that you're choosing to hang out with that skank rather than stay here with me." y/n looked at the blonde girl shocked. " ashley isn't a skank. she's actually really nice and i'm kinda excited to see where things go." regina sat up at that.

"what do you mean where things go? what about us?" y/n was the one to scoff now. "what do you mean us? there is no us. you have aaron, or did you forget?" regina rolled her eyes. "this isn't about aaron, we are talking about us." y/n shook her head. "again, there is no us. you're too scared to come out so there has never been an us. i'm not your property."

regina felt her heart break at how sad y/n sounded. the girl spoke up again. "you know what? this was fun while it lasted but i don't think we should hook up anymore regina. you have aaron and i am hoping to have ashley. i'm not going to let you ruin it because you're jealous over a relationship that was nothing more than fucking. and until you can come to terms with that, don't talk to me."

with that, y/n walked out of the door, and out of regina's life.

it had been a few weeks since the incident and y/n hadn't left regina's mind. the queen bee couldn't stop thinking of the girl and how much she fucked up. she had broken up with aaron the day after the incident. shockingly, he took it okay. he had his eye on someone else anyway and couldn't figure out how to break things off.

everything had affected regina's behavior at school, the girl being more bitchy than before, especially towards ashley. gretchen had been keeping regina updated with y/n and ashley and how they were progressing, but she did drop a bomb on regina one day at lunch.

"you know, i heard that ashley and shane have been hooking up behind y/n's back, ashley only got with y/n as a bet." regina's heart dropped at the news. she knew that bitch was slimy. y/n hadn't spoken to her since d-day so regina had no idea how to break the news to her. luckily for the blonde, she wouldn't have to.

an hour later, while sitting in her english class, regina got a text from gretchen.

gretch: y/n found out about ashley and shane. her and shane got in a fight and they both got suspended.

regina's stomach sunk reading the text. she immediately grabbed her bag and got up, ignoring the teacher's calls. she sent a text to the plastics group chat informing them that she was leaving and for them to drive themselves home.

she hopped in her jeep, heading towards her destination.

she pulled in to y/n's driveway, thanking the lord that she was home alone. she got out of her car, heading up to the front door and letting herself in. she found y/n sitting on the couch in her living room, staring at her hands. the blonde slowly approached the girl, kneeling in front of her and gently grabbing her hands. y/n seemed to kind of snap out of her stupor, looking at the blonde blankly.

"gina? what are you doing here?" regina's heart fluttered at hearing the familiar nickname. "i heard what happened with ashley. i wanted to check in on you and make sure you were okay." y/n shook her head chuckling. "since when do you take care of me?" regina sighed and kissed y/n's bruised knuckles gently.

"since i figured out i'm in love with you." y/n froze. regina was in love with her? the blonde noticed her silence and looked up at y/n nervously. she wasn't expecting to drop that bomb on y/n so soon. y/n took a shaky breath. "you love me?" regina nodded. "i think i've always been in love with you, but i've been worried about keeping up a certain image that i just denied those feelings for you. but then we started hooking up and the feelings got stronger."

y/n noticed a few stray tears running down regina's cheeks. she reached up and cupped her cheek, gently wiping the tears off her face. regina sniffled and continued.

"i know it's toxic of me to think this but i thought if i kept you close with the hookups, that i could have the best of both worlds. but then you ended things and i lost you and i realized that i didn't wanna go on without you. so i broke up with aaron and was going to go after you but then i thought you and ashley were happy. and i didn't want to take that happiness from you. but i really am in love with you. and i want to be the one who makes you happy. to be the couple that every gets jealous of. i'm so sorry for what i put you through. just please give me a chance."

y/n couldn't take it and pulled regina into a passionate kiss. this kiss wasn't like any kiss the two had shared. the other kisses had been more of a hunger, desire burning in the pit of their stomachs. this kiss they were sharing now, felt like a missing puzzle piece was sliding into place. the two poured their feelings for each other in the kiss.

regina got up, not pulling away from the kiss, straddling y/n, her hands automatically going to the blonde's hips. the two eventually pulled away to catch their breaths. regina began to trail hot, wet kisses down y/n's neck, leaving marks for everyone see. y/n threw her head back, giving regina more access.

the blonde began to slowly grind on y/n's leg, searching for friction. y/n noticed and guided the girl's movements, slowing her down. regina whined into y/n's neck, the girl shushing her softly. "shhh baby. slow down, i wanna savor this." regina turned into putty at the pet name, listening to the girl as she rocked her hips slower.

y/n thanked the heavens above that regina decided to wear a skirt today. she flipped the skirt up. y/n smirked at the sight of a lacy, black thong barely covering regina. she pulled the girl down directly on her thigh, the blonde letting out a moan. y/n guided regina to grind at a steady pace, the blonde letting out soft whimpers at the feeling.

"you're so beautiful gina. so perfect. and all for me aren't you?" regina nodded as y/n's hands guided her to pick up the pace. "yes. yes, all yours y/n." y/n smiled, beginning to kiss down the blonde's neck, leaving her own marks. regina felt the bubble of pleasure sitting in the bottom of her stomach grow.

y/n smiled at the sight of the queen bee being putty in her own hands. y/n slid one of her hands between regina's legs, gently rubbing her clit through the flimsy fabric. regina gasped at the feeling, throwing her head back.y/n smirked. "god, i wish you could see yourself right now baby, you look so perfect." regina sped her movements up, chasing her high.

y/n could tell she was getting close, so she began to help her out by applying more pressure to her clit. "i want you to cum for me regina. make a mess on my thigh." regina couldn't hold it anymore. the bubble popped and her orgasm washed over her in waves. y/n helped her ride it out, the girl gently shaking on her thigh.

"good girl. so beautiful. so perfect." y/n continued to rain praise down on regina as as she gently picked the girl up and headed to her room. she laid the blonde down on her bed and went into her bathroom to grab a wet cloth. she came back and gently cleaned regina up, shushing the girl's soft whimpers.

she then threw the cloth in her hamper before going to grab some sweats and a t-shirt for the blonde. after a few minutes of gently rag dolling regina into the clothes, she grabbed a water bottle from her mini fridge and a power bar, urging the blonde to take.

water drank and power bar eaten, regina laid on y/n's chest as the girl stroked her hair. y/n spoke up. "will you be my girlfriend gina?" regina sat up slowly, turning to y/n. "if you think i was leaving here without becoming your girlfriend, you are crazy. of course i'll be your girlfriend you dork. you can't give me that amazing of an orgasm and expect me to not scoop you up."

y/n laughed and pulled the blonde girl into a soft kiss, cementing the unspoken promise of love between the two girls.

#regina george imagine #regina george x reader #mean girls imagines #mean girls 2024 #regina george smut

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plasticferal · 4 months

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hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you��re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

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