#i need to stop trying to draw conclusions. she's fucking weird. like whatever
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okay. so that was. okay. so ill give a little (unfortunately long) update here ig.
-this conversation was prefaced by me being like hey can i talk to you abt something and she was like yeah and i instinctively said slay and then stalled by going ‘do you ever say slay’ and she was like ‘no i dont feel like it’s my place’ and i was like ‘oh why’ and she said ‘because im a straight woman.’ so we’re back to that. and i was like ‘oh yeah ok sometimes i feel funny saying it actually im trying to stop.’ whatever
-started out SO strong just being like whew. okay. remember when i asked if something was up last week. lol this feels weird. okay anyway so i like you,
-went on to say we seemed to click so well when we first met (she was like yeah!) and i guess there was a point where i thought she might’ve felt the same
-but didn’t know if she was straight/eventually found out abt Bf and then ran into them and things seemed weird
-she cut in at this point about Hammock day and was like oh im sorry we were really drunk and i knew i needed to get stuff to u so im sorry if i was being awkward. and i was like sick well i didnt know that but it was awkward because he was being a little rude to me
-and then when you BLOCKED ME FROM YOUR STORY... didnt know if something happened or if we just didnt get along as well as i thought.. and i didnt know how things would be this year
-but you were cool and i like talking to u so i decided to just get to know u
-and we hung out and that was cool but i feel like i make u uncomfortable (she shook her head) i feel like maybe you felt more for me and things were confusing and weird and scary and that all came to a head that friday we went to that party
-or i feel like you know that id had feelings for you and im seen as this like pseudo homewrecker or whatever
-and im sorry if im misreading all of this but i needed to say it. i dont want to make u feel weird but i just dont know how else to read this situation, i dont feel like im being treated like a normal friend
-so she goes. um. honestly i dont even fucking remember how she started she was just like i felt really bad i was being a bad friend to you
-like sorry i wasnt answering your texts i then felt bad about it and i think it translated to me being awkward in person and whatever
-and i was like it’s fine, i just feel like i was getting mixed signals and i was maybe seen as like. an ego boost or someone that’s maybe making your bf jealous. sorry if that sounds presumptuous
-and she just kinda managed to swerve past that and only said she tends to be really oblivious and didn’t realize i liked her and w/e
-and that im just like. good at fostering relationships with people?? and like. we do get along so well and she was also surprised by how long we hung out alone yk
-and she said she got in her own head about only hanging out when we weren’t sober bc people have said stuff to her about that and i was like. but we have hung out sober. and she was like yeah. so i was just like?? null point
-and she like. said she appreciated me bringing this up to her and it must have taken some guts i was like yeah yk i mean i respect you and just felt like things got weird and whatever
-and then i was like ok ill get out of your hair now cause she was going out to dinner w her roommates and she was like ok. would you like a hug
-and i said yes <3 because i am so fucking smart. so i got a hug
-and basically just yk see you monday. but im walking away from all that like okaaaaaaayyyyyy.... and?????
-like. is she so far in denial of potentially maybe liking women (along with boyfriend’s gender journey) that she just. refused to even touch any of that part of the story
-yeah speaking of she did not say Anything about him. and how he played into this
-i mean im still glad i said it and it’s out there and not just rotting away in my brain. u know. and i know i needed to go in with no expectations
-and it’s nice that she still apparently wants to like be friends? but i expected at least Something. she pretended. sorry. she said she didn’t remember blocking me from her story
-and i said Yeah well. you unblocked me in time for boyfriend day. and she said ‘oh well i can see how that would have looked’ and i said ‘yeah. nice pictures’ LOL
-i did interview her for a film project and i feel like i sounded so fucking funny like such a bitch or just Weird bc i was going insane internally. or maybe im just always that annoying talking to her.
-idk guys. so i guess that’s that for now. chapter over?
#at least i got to ask her. 'are you lying to yourself about anything' and she said 'yes' and then didnt elaborate#thats not gonna help me draw conclusions at all.#i need to stop trying to draw conclusions. she's fucking weird. like whatever#i guess. i WISH there was a fight or something slightly more dramatic. but either was was extremely unfazed#or just. blindsided and refused to even acknowledge the rest of what i said#maybe she wanted to be friends with me so she ignored if boyfriend ever said anything about me and tried to be like Noooo#so me confirming i had feelings for her was like. oh shit. yk?#whatever. she's weird. everything is weird.#film girl saga#so ig im like officially officially friendzoned. is that what happened? i guess by nature of the straight thing and the bf thing one could#argue i shouldve been a while ago but u know.
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Superhero Stranger Things AU (1)
Sooo. A superhero Stranger Things AU (Steddie will be included in next posts, yeah, sue me). But nothing Spider-man-esque or in a large city. Just a small town trying to contain its villains, heroes and unchecked superpowers. Hear me out. I have way too many ideas but I need to sleep, so I will be splitting this into parts.
The toxic spill from the Hawkins lab is real, there was an experimental substance involved and all effects are not fully explored. Sure, the resident lab rat/kid, subject Eleven, seems to develop powers of telekinesis, but a single result is hardly conclusive. Except then Eleven accidentally damages one of the liquid containers, causes the leak and runs away while Papa and his science buddies try to contain it. And guess who are the two people who happen to live nearby and suddenly start feeling different after taking a stroll in the woods. Yep, Will Byers and Steve Harrington.
Will develops a weird connection to the spilled chemical, the more it spreads, the more he feels what is happening in the town. When someone steps on a contaminated area, he shudders and feels like ants are walking on his skin. He has no clue what's going on, but suddenly he just knows that his mom is driving home and what route she is taking, he knows that Jonathan is staring at Nancy Wheeler in school like she was the newest model of a camera and he's very quietly freaking out because he doesn't want to know all of this. He knows that Lucas has a crush on the new girl in their class with ginger hair and he knows that Dustin found a weirdly colored lizard and named him after nougat and he just wants some peace and quiet to draw, but it's just so loud in his head!
Steve, the King of Hawkins High, develops the gift of disastrous precognition. More like a curse, because where his main concern used to be how to get around his dad's demands and how to be on the top of the high school social ladder, he now has responsibilities (Steve Harrington Trademark). He sees a random kid from middle school, carrying something small in his palm, and suddenly there are huge red letters flashing in his head, screaming DANGER. He catches up with the kid - Dustin Henderson - and with very poorly hidden panic, persuades Dustin to show his discovery to the science teacher. Lo and behold, the small lizard may be cute, but its color is caused by some strange goo sticking to its skin, scales or whatever and it should definitely be examined before being handled barehanded. A bit too late for that. The warning signs now go off nonstop in Steve's head and he goes from Mr. Popular to Mr. What-the-fuck-are-you-doing-wait-for-that-green-light-little-shithead in a few weeks.
Steve meets the Party when he sees them heading to the woods and the radar in his head nearly explodes. He asks them where they're going and they very unwillingly inform him they're off to the junkyard to play. He tries to stop them, comes off as an absolute lunatic, but the smallest boy looks very nervous and tries to get the others listen to Steve, in vain. Of course these brats would rather pull their teeth out than listen to an (almost) adult. So Steve just swallows several choice words, grabs a baseball bat from his trunk ("for practice, not to beat up people! I swear to god, Wheeler, you little shit, it's not like that-!") and follows the kids, just to keep an eye on them because he can't relax anyway. When the small boy (Will Byers, Steve learns) shudders and suddenly announces there is a black bear nearby, others don't believe him, but Steve's danger radar is going off and he drags the kids to the abandoned bus, barricades them inside and watches over them until he is sure it is safe to come out. He and Will don't talk then, but they share a few meaningful looks. And when Will says it's fine to leave the bus now, Steve immediately accepts it as a fact.
The rest of the party is not fully sure what happened, but Dustin's eyes sparkle when he looks at Steve now. And Steve starts liking the boy too because hey, he saved his health/life or whatever two times already and the kid is really smart, even though too cheeky for his own good. So when Dustin and Will pound on his door two days later, explaining (too quickly and in a very confusing way) that there was probably something wrong with Dart ("the lizard, pay attention, Steve!") and that Dustin is gradually becoming something akin to a human radio, hearing various frequencies in his head and being able to flip through them at will, Steve just sighs and lets them in because sure, a human radio? That's new, but not surprising.
(Dustin also tries to give them superhero names when they share that they might have some powers, but Steve vehemently objects to Danger-man and Will just says "no" to Sludge Boy, so the jury is still out on that one)
#stranger things#strangerthings#stranger things drabble#strangerthingsdrabble#stranger things au#strangerthingsau#steve harrington#will byers#dustin henderson
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Con Man's Daughter
Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.
[Masterlist]
(Part 2)
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I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.
So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.
John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.
“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”
And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.
He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.
“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”
“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.
“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”
“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.
“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”
“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”
“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”
Swears on the other end.
“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”
“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”
“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.
And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.
Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.
She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.
“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”
“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”
More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.
Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.
Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.
He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.
Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.
Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.
The Constantines stop arguing.
“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”
“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.
Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.
“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”
Mari made to follow them.
“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”
“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”
“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”
“yes. crystal”
“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”
Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”
“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”
“Hey!” Both father and daughter.
Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.
Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.
“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”
“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.
“I hate you sometimes.”
“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”
John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.
He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.
“So...I have one question.”
“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”
“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”
Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.
“I am going to take that as a yes.”
Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”
“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”
“Father must know about this.”
“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”
His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.
One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.
After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”
“I am in.”
“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”
“Yes.”
Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.
Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.
“At least, the kids are staying put.”
Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.
They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.
“Why am I not surprised?”
Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.
They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.
Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.
Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.
“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”
“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”
-----
Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.
As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.
John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.
-----
After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.
They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.
It’s summer break so no missing school.
John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.
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Right. how this all started...
John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.
John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.
And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.
When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.
They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.
Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.
He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.
That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.
The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.
At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.
Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.
Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.
The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.
He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.
It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.
After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.
Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.
------
When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.
Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)
Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.
John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.
That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.
His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.
Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.
Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.
During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.
Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)
------
When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.
With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness
Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.
Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.
They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.
The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.
Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.
“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”
Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.
Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.
“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.
She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.
“Dad, what’s happened?”
John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”
John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did
Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”
The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.
“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”
Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.
He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.
Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”
It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.
But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)
Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.
Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.
The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.
It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.
John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.
It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.
After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.
He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)
He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.
Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.
----
(Part 2)
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Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B
Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader
Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst
WC: 5.1k
Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder
Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia
summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.
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"Excuse m-me, sir."
Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.
You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.
"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.
Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.
When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.
What the hell is this?
"Uh-"
"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.
Jungkook swallows thickly.
On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.
He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.
But you aren't outright telling him that you know...
What the hell does he do now?
You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."
He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.
"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.
"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.
You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.
Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.
He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.
You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.
"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.
Damn, she's nosy.
Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.
"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.
After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.
The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.
"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"
Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.
He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.
Shit, she's fast.
Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.
"What?" He snaps.
You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.
"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.
Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."
"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.
You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."
Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.
You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."
I know.
"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.
"What's y-your name?"
Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?
"Jungkook."
...
...
...Fuck.
Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?
He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up.
You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think.
"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.
You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind.
Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home.
_______________
Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.
When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.
There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.
He's never been caught.
Not once.
He's never even been close to getting caught.
In and out, one and done.
That's how it's always been for him.
Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.
"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.
Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.
"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.
It's impossible.
He can't quit.
He just needs to get it over with tonight.
No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking.
It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.
Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.
He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate.
When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall.
_______________
When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip.
Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt.
When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina.
You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^
Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play.
After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you.
Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO
You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately.
"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.
"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.
"Is he cute? Is he single?"
"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that."
You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity.
"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear.
She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"
"Yup!"
"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?"
You nod, then remember she can't see you.
"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"
Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"
"Jungkook."
"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?"
You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute."
"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head.
"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin.
You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"
You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."
You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon.
You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched.
You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg.
You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow.
You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you.
Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs.
_______________
Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul.
He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head.
A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid.
Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it.
He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home.
He's going to finish this.
Tonight.
When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure.
He slides the last bullet back in, then-
"Jungkook?"
The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment.
Gosh fucking damn it all to hell.
You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him.
You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash.
"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.
You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"
Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."
You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?"
Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk."
"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best."
"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea.
"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags.
You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him.
The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.
"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger.
"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"
He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley.
"Miss ___! Is that you?"
Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now.
You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"
Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."
You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!"
Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"
He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse.
"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."
Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good.
Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you.
Great, just great.
"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh.
Jungkook forces a smile onto his face.
He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely.
"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away.
But he remains stoic.
You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"
"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away.
"Of course." He mumbles.
This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted.
"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___."
"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile.
Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time.
"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street.
The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more.
When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath.
"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh.
Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging.
You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."
Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.
When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles.
"W-Wait!"
He turns back to you, biting back another sigh.
"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.
"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner.
You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day.
It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him.
You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger.
_______________
Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly.
He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed.
Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness.
"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly.
His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by.
Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.
The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world.
Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex.
A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.
He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.
When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door.
_______________
Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear.
It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you.
You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you.
"Good morning, ____."
"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet.
Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly.
Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work."
"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later."
He waves as you turn and hurry into the school.
Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it.
_______________
"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home.
A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day.
The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door.
The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there.
You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses.
You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away.
Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook.
You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.
Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it.
"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in.
You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"
He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"
"Um..."
What did he say last week...?
Oh...
"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."
"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps.
You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"
Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off.
"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."
The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me."
You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it.
When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before.
The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina.
You blink a few times, then you start making your way home.
"Going home so soon?"
You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.
A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly.
He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."
You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"
Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious.
"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."
At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine."
"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to.
"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong.
"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?"
Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"
You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."
Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."
The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food.
Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line.
She acts like a kid.
He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway.
You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink.
"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."
"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.
You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag.
"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly.
Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"
"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little.
"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food.
You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first.
"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly.
You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year."
Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"
You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"
"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite.
"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely.
Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff."
You smile, "That's a g-good job."
He nods, finishing off his last bite.
"It pays the bills."
Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is.
No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.
Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.
This is gonna be easier than I thought.
______________________________
a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one
#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#bts fluff#bts reactions#bts#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts jungkook angst#bts angst#jungkook scenarios#BTS jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fic#hitman!jk#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#bts x reader#bts x y/n#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#kim namjoon
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@inukagfluffweek
August 11, 2021 - Touch
Lewd
For the life of him, Inuyasha could not figure out why people were staring at them more than usual or, more unnervingly, why Miroku kept giving him some very uncomfortable glances filled to the brim with amusement. Per the norm when the things made him uneasy, Inuyasha had taken to sticking a little closer to Kagome than he traditionally would have in a clearly hostile village. Not because he couldn’t protect himself, okay? He was perfectly capable of protecting himself and had for over a hundred years. And, to be clear, being around her didn’t make him feel safe. Definitely didn’t need to feel safe when he could defeat these assholes with one hand behind his back. He absolutely did not need Kagome to protect him and she wouldn’t be able to do much on that front in any case. It was just that he felt a little more secure near her. Secure was not the same thing as safe. Not at all. He didn’t need her to feel safe. Just…a little more confident when he was admittedly a little anxious people were staring. At first, it actually wasn’t that bad but the stares just kept getting worse and so…
But he was not staying close because he was scared. He wasn’t scared of anything. Except, well, losing her so…so that was probably why he felt the need to stay close. So he could protect her if shit hit the fan. Knowing that she was safe made his chest less tight and his stomach stop churning. Sure as hell wasn’t because…
Letting out a controlled exhale, Inuyasha distractedly flicked at some crust that had somehow lodged itself in the corner of one eye before letting his hand drop again.
“What a beautiful public display,” Miroku hummed as he sidled up to his companions and gave Inuyasha a mischievous grin, “It’s almost heartwarming to see two young people so in love.”
For some unknown reason, Kagome choked as her heart started beating so fast from fear Inuyasha’s instincts nearly went into overdrive. Why the hell was the wench so terrified?
Glancing around, amber eyes widened at the realization that Kagome might be just as worried about the stares they’d been receiving. Maybe she was staying close to him for….similar reasons he’d been staying close to her.
“You need to shut up,” Inuyasha hissed quietly before lowering his volume more so as to not be overheard - somehow making the monk look even more amused, “This ain’t the place to say shit like that. The villagers have been watching me like a hawk.”
“I absolutely cannot imagine why,” Miroku snickered as he pointedly glanced down and set his jaw to keep his shit eating grin in check, “In any case, Sango is almost done buying provisions so why don’t we move on ahead, hm?”
“Fine by me,” Inuyasha huffed as he began walking forward only to realize - when the thing in his hand jerked once to keep him in place - exactly why people were staring. Amber eyes widened in mild horror as they darted to the hand clasped securely in his own which was attached to the miko herself.
When did they start holding hands? He sure as hell didn’t do that and yet his palm was slightly sweaty indicating he’d been holding her hand for some time now.
“We should wait for her,” Kagome chided nervously as she gave Inuyasha’s hand a light squeeze making butterflies erupt in his stomach, “It shouldn’t be much longer.”
Mentally going over their day, Inuyasha tried to pin point when exactly the hand-holding started. They’d been walking side by side most of the day but he…he didn’t remember…
She must’ve started it.
“Why are you holding my hand?” Inuyasha asked - even though he took no action to cease the contact.
Giving him a strange look, the miko gave him an answer he did not like.
“Because you kept putting your hand in mine?” Kagome replied slowly - her worried look morphing into an amused one, “Wait…”
Some flashed behind her eyes and the melting look on her face made his stomach churn.
“Aw, you didn’t…”
“No ‘aw’. There is no ‘aw’ here,” Inuyasha huffed as he pulled his hand back and tucked both hands into his sleeves, “You did this. Not me.”
The melting look increased and Kagome gave him an affectionate smile.
“Awww….”
“What did I say about no ‘aw’!” Inuyasha huffed desperately, “I didn’t start this.”
“Yes you did,” Kagome sing songed and much to Inuyasha utter shock, a nearby elderly human woman chuckled softly to herself while looking between the pair with something akin to strangerly affection. Which disturbed him as much if not more than whatever was happening with him and his wandering hand.
Breathing heavily, Inuyasha’s mind continued racing down every moment of this fateful day. Trying to find the moment or apparently moments where he’d been the one to instigate the offensive touch but no matter how hard he tried, he had no memory of it. None whatsoever. Every minute of that day had felt natural. Normal even.
“D-do I do shit like that a lot?” he finally asked - his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to keep his composure.
“No but I liked it,” Kagome admitted with a hum before taking a step closer and giving him a shy smile that had his ears pinning back against his head.
And then she did something that absolutely crashed his mind…
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek.
“You can hold my hand whenever you…”
“Are you insane?! You can’t just kiss me like that in strange villages,” Inuyasha hissed as his mind finally caught up - his hand desperately trying to wipe away the perceived sin. Kagome’s grin only made his anger and discomfort grow hotter.
“To be clear then, it’s okay if I do that in familiar places?” came her teasing retort and for a moment, Inuyasha was almost very, very stupid. He almost said something along of the line of forbidding kisses entirely. Something he most certainly did not want to forbid. Especially considering she was pretty much saying she’d give him kisses if he wanted them.
Blushing faintly, Inuyasha decided the best course of action was to react normally. Brush her off and declare her stupid…
Thankfully the old woman watching saw the incoming relationship bomb coming before it landed and for some unknown reason, felt inclined to defuse the explosive before it detonated.
“Be bold boy and say yes,” the elderly woman chuckled softly, “A girl like that won’t wait for you forever and the monk is right. Anyone with eyes can see you love her.”
“Stay outta this” Inuyasha snapped irritably - a reaction to which the old woman thankfully seemed amused by, “What makes you so bold?”
Miroku’s hand flew to the top of his head - hoping his friend didn’t just incur someone’s wrath and also…didn’t Inuyasha just say they shouldn’t draw attention to themselves? Was this just how he coped with fear and anxiety? Antagonize people? If so, how was Inuyasha still alive?!
“Well this was my husbands village and now it belongs to my son. Everything that happens here is my business,” the old woman hummed - giving the somewhat nervous trio a reassuring smile, “And seeing as how you’re in my village, what I say goes.”
“Crack pot,” Inuyasha huffed - earning a full blown facepalm from the miko - and the old woman, to her credit, simply smirked. Not at all afraid of the teenager even with all his fangs and demonic energy. Mostly because he was obviously domesticated and in the presence of equally powerful friends who could stop him from doing any real damage but also because this demon clearly had a good heart and therefore, she reasoned, wouldn’t harm her.
And while that was all mostly true, that didn’t mean Inuyasha wasn’t seriously considering punching her.
“Inuyasha, you need to be nicer to people.”
“Fine. Fine,” Inuyasha huffed as his blush deepened. Glancing at the old woman to make sure she wasn’t upset by what he’d said, Inuyasha turned his gaze back towards the miko who was clearly expecting him to apologize to the old woman. Which he wasn’t gunna do but he could fix one thing that probably needed fixing for a while now.
Squaring his shoulders, Inuyasha cleared his throat and…tried…
“It’d be annoying but if you…you want to kiss me sometimes, I won’t stop you.”
Kagome blinked once then twice.
“Come again?”
Quickly reaching over to push Miroku away face first before he could add in his two cents, Inuyasha tried to look like what he’d said wasn’t awkward as hell.
“I said if you want to kiss me, go ahead. Old bat was right,” Inuyasha hufffed before his eyes widened in horror at what he’d impulsively implied, “I mean, you already j-just do shit. I c-can’t really stop you.”
Kagome made a bemused face and wrinkled her nose at this bizarre admission. That was at least twice now that Inuyasha hadn’t shot someone down after they announced he loved her. Which was unusual and for someone as easily triggered as he was, that left her with a most wonderful conclusion.
One that he apparently realized she’d come to and so Inuyasha did what Inuyasha do.
He tried to protect himself. Poorly.
“I see that look. Don’t be stupid. I mean…yeah, she was right about…about the love part…I do, um, love you, ya know, as a friend. A good friend. And, um, sometimes friends they kiss I think.”
“Well if that is true I must inform San…”
With a soft groan at his own cringeworthy awkwardness, Inuyasha once again necessarily pressed his hand against the closer than usual monk’s face and gave it a light push. This was already nerve racking enough without the monk making it more weird on purpose. First he was holding his woman’s hand without realizing and now he’d all but admitted how he felt. Something he’d been denying himself because he didn’t want to force someone to walk beside him as he faced the constant pile of shit being thrown at him. Add to that he didn’t deserve to be happy when Kikyo was suffering and it was just…wrong to feel like he did.
What he wanted didn’t matter. It never mattered…
Kagome smiled and his stomach turned into pleasant knots.
Except it did. Hell did it ever. He couldn’t even go more than a day without this woman before he lost his fucking mind. What was he going to do if she knew and didn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if a chance at a relationship ended badly?! If she left him, she’d take the only friends he’d ever had with her…
He’d be alone…
“Uh….huh…”
Panicking now, Inuyasha decided to rely on old faithful and go for an insult to force her back into friendship lane. This was getting into dangerous territory. She knew. Mainly because he told her but he…he could fix it.
“W-why are you so s-stupid, huh?” Inuyasha added a little desperately and much to his horror Kagome’s knowing smile only grew, “I’m just saying you just do shit and…I mean, what am I supposed to do, huh? You just throw yourself at…”
The old woman snickered at the scene and threw in her thoughts with a bemused laugh, “Please just kiss him young lady and put us all out of our misery. He talks far too much for his own good.”
“STAY OUTTA THIS YOU OLD…” Inuyasha began to bellow before whimpering softly when Kagome sealed his mouth with her own. Before he knew it, his arms were pulling her up and against him to give her the best access. It was beautiful and pure and everything he’d hoped a real kiss would be like. While she had done that before, this was the first time she’d done it for a reason other than saving his sorry ass. She’d done that only because she wanted to and that fact that she’d done it just because nearly brought a tear to his eye. Did she…did she love him back?
“You know,” Kagome panted lightly as she pulled back and nuzzled her man’s nose, “I love you too.”
Visibly wilting in relief, Inuyasha gave Kagome the most affectionate look anyone had ever seen on his face. A look that crumpled and turned to annoyance when Miroku made another comment about ‘public displays’.
The old woman simply rolled her eyes and continued on her way - mentally chuckling to herself about how the youth of today could be so foolish and how life was far too short.
A short distance away her middle aged son was watching his mother with a weary smile while the pair of mercenaries seemed to discuss something of great magnitude.
“That’s a dangerous thing you just did.”
“I did nothing but nudge those two down a path they were already on,” the old woman chuckled softly - reaching out to pat her son’s arm, “Love is love sweetheart. It’s one of those funny things in life that just is.”
For a long moment, the son watched the newly formed couple as they resumed holding hands before sighing and turning to follow his mother.
“I meant you meddle far too much” the son continued - glancing over his shoulder to make sure they went being overheard, “They’re mercenaries by trade. You saw their weapons. Probably fresh from some war and…”
“Mercenaries deserve love as well…”
The son let out a long exhale and rolled his eyes.
“Mother. That boy had claws…”
“Claws deserve love…”
The son stopped mid step and groaned that kind of exasperated groan only a child with an embarrassing parent would understand before glancing over his shoulder to watch the little band move on towards their next bounty. One day his mother was going to try to play matchmaker with the wrong two people…
But thankfully, it would seem she always managed to pick the right ones.
#inukag fluff week#inukag fluff week 2021#inukag#inuyasha#kagome#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#kstewdeux
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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 17 | S.R.)
Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |
Summary: Spencer is concerned about Reader’s growing impulsiveness, but Reader is the one who gets a call from JJ asking if she can come get her boyfriend.
Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Content Warning: Discussions of drugs, death/dying, suicide, overdose; Alcohol, addiction, oral (male receiving), handjob, fingering, Daddy Kink, fights, PTSD, hospital talk, drunk smut w/ blanket consent
Word Count: 12.5k
MASTERLIST
—————————————————
When I opened the front door, I realized that I had returned to an empty home. I wasn’t sure which was weirder; the realization that the house was empty, or the fact that I was referring to her apartment as my home. It certainly had started to feel that way.
It never stopped being a shock that I would find a home in someone so quickly and with such little self-awareness. I'd certainly never suspected that the house we’d be in would also be shared with several other people, all of whom were significantly younger than me and shared almost no similarities with me beyond our love for (y/n).
And even if it wasn’t the weirder of the two realizations, the fact that she wasn’t there was definitely the more troubling one. I tried to gather at least a little evidence before I called her; I wasn’t exactly excited about being blindsided again. Judging by the red solo cups that were scattered in the kitchen, I had an idea of how her friends had spent the night. The fact that no one was here led me to another conclusion that I desperately hoped was inaccurate.
Her phone rang four times before she picked up, which was strange in itself. When she did pick up, she sounded like I expected her to. Tired. Groggy.
“Hello?”
“Hey little girl, where are you?” I hoped she couldn’t hear the fumbling of my keys in my pocket, or any other sign of just how anxious I’d gotten in the last three minutes. “Oh. I’m sorry, Spencer, I forgot I was supposed to see you today.” She mumbled, sounding genuinely apologetic if not a little confused.
“You… forgot?” I repeated, quickly making my way over to the calendar hung on a bulletin board outside the kitchen, noting the nothingness over both the current and following week.
“Yeah, I guess I got carried away with school.”
She was lying. I couldn’t be for sure about what, but it was obvious. If she was really having that much trouble with classes, she would have told me. We’d gotten past the whole insecurity over me thinking she was stupid thing a long time ago, and she knew I would always let her learn it on her own if she didn’t want my help.
“... What are you not telling me?” I tried to make the words playful, although my hand was now nervously patting the side of my hip at an alarming rate.
“Nothing! I just got distracted. I’m... a little busy today so we should just meet up again next weekend.”
“A week?” I knew she was probably getting tired of me parroting her words, but that just seemed like a ludicrous amount of time. Usually, we went barely a day or two without seeing each other when I was in the city, cherishing the time together when I wasn't called away to attend to crimes halfway across the country.
“What’s going on?” My voice was quickly falling into that register that warned her I was about to start profiling her, whether I wanted to or not. And unfortunately, she chose the worst possible reaction to that warning, further tipping me off to the fact that something wasn't quite right.
“Spencer, stop being weird.”
But I wasn’t. I knew that I could be weird; it’s kind of my thing. If you looked up weird in the dictionary, you wouldn’t find my name, but you’d definitely find a description that perfectly characterized my personality.
“You’re the one being weird. Turn on your camera.”
“I can’t. It’s dark in here.” She shot back her answer so quickly, I knew that she had already anticipated the request.
“Then move.” I ordered more than suggested. She understandably didn’t take kindly to my reaction, but I know she also knew why I was doing it. The excuses she was giving weren’t even well thought out.
“What is this? An interrogation?” She scoffed, “Do you think I’m cheating on you with barely dissolved stitches in my intestines?”
I took a deep breath, sitting down at the kitchen table still sticky with leftover sugary liquor and turned the phone onto speaker. “Turn it on.” This time, my voice broke with the order. As much as that didn’t make it sound authoritative, it did make her feel guilty.
As the screen lit up, it all made sense in the worst possible way. She was forcing a fake smile, her other hand resting against her face in a failed attempt to draw attention away from the the mottled skin of her left eye.
“I’m not cheating on you. Happy?” The words were sharp on her tongue, an anger in her features paired well with the understanding that I wasn’t wrong to be worried. I honestly think that was what bothered her the most – that she wanted it to be nothing, for me to be overreacting, but knew that it was a little more serious that she let on.
“I’m definitely not happy. What happened?” I was already at the door by the time the sentence ended... She shut off her camera just as quickly, hearing the commotion from my side. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”
She sighed, and I could see it clearly despite the fact that she wasn’t on my screen anymore. “I don’t want you to come here. Spencer, I’m fine.”
I might have believed her. I might have honestly given her the benefit of the doubt – let her lie to me a little, and just accept that a black eye wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. Eventually, she would tell me how she got it, so I wouldn’t need to worry about it.
But it became very obvious very quickly that it was not just a black eye.
“Ms. (Y/l/n)?” A third voice announced in the background, accompanied by the distinct sound of an alarm sounding in the distance.
“... Are you in a hospital?!”
“For fucks sake. I hate dating a profiler.” She grumbled, implicitly admitting that my conclusion was right. She wouldn’t let me have another word, speedily slurring her goodbye. “I have to go, Spencer. I’ll call you later. Love you!”
—————————————————
Anyone who has spent a long time in inpatient knows that nosy nurses are both the best and worst kind of people to be assigned to your stay. They were the best because they always had the best gossip and would spend their precious little free time sharing stories about their lives that were always more entertaining than whatever poorly budgeted gameshow was on the old, staticky television.
They were the worst because one wrong move meant that you were the subject of gossip. And boy, were they good at getting it out of you.
“Trouble in paradise?” She sweetly hummed as she pushed my bed down the hall.
I wanted to tell her that there was trouble, and that it was through no fault of my own. If the other people in the hospital didn’t have the audacity to be sick at the same time that I needed a CT scan, then I wouldn’t have even still been here. I could have been back at home, where… well, I guess Spencer would have figured it out either way.
“Yeah, I guess.” I sadly admitted, playing with the string of my gown. “He’s just a worrywart.”
The woman had that glimmer in her eye, the kind that came from years of seeing the same stories over and over again. Although, I had a hard time believing she’d ever been in this exact scenario, I guess they were all kind of the same after a while, semantics aside.
“Well, that makes sense considering your current state.” It was more of a reprimand than anything else, and I audibly groaned to try and get her to stop there. She didn’t, though, having spent enough time with me to know I needed to hear it. “You were very lucky, you know. If things had been even just a little bit different…”
Couldn’t you say that about everything? If things had been even just a little bit different, I never would have met Spencer in the first place. We never would have fallen in love or fought or done any of it at all.
I didn’t like thinking about that. I didn’t like even considering a life without Spencer. No matter how much pain I’d been through, or what traumatic memories were dug up, they were worth it.
That’s what she wanted me to realize, and she had succeeded. Suddenly, as we turned into the room, I was overcome with guilt at the way I’d ended my conversation with him.
The nurse knew it, too, because as she transferred me onto the scanner, she smiled. “I’m just saying, sweetheart. If he woke up next to your hospital bed last time, I understand why he’d be scared.”
Chewing on my lips, I thought about the last time I was in a hospital. I thought about how Spencer had curled his giant lanky body onto the bed and barely slept for 2 weeks. I could see the way his eyes got more sunken by the day, but never stopped shining with relief. I could hear him chewing on ice because he didn’t want to leave to grab food until after I’d woken up, and the cold would distract him from just how hungry he was.
“He must love you an awful lot to be that worried.”
I hated when they did that; when they read my mind and said exactly what I was thinking.
“Yeah, I know.” I tried to smile. It was hard with the stabbing pain in my stomach and the aching in the entire left side of my face, but I managed. It was just one of those things where if I thought of Spencer, my body had to react. It was as natural as breathing.
Which, speaking of…
“Take a deep breath in.” The technician alerted me from the speaker.
The high pitched whines of the CT scanner weren’t as obnoxious as the MRI machine. I was silently grateful that they were still too scared to use the giant magnet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be stuck in a confined space, listening to loud banging that sounded too much like gun shots for my comfort.
Even just the thought made me nauseous. I felt like a baby, to have such a strong reaction to something so stupid. I’d been in an MRI before. I was a in a hospital. Nothing bad was going to happen to me, and I knew that.
But even now, in a machine that made virtually no noise and barely covered half my body, I wasn’t able to hold in a breath. Each time I tried, it felt like I was choking on Spencer’s lap again. The stinging in my stomach felt so much stronger, even though I knew it was healed.
The world felt like it was closing in on me, and every second that passed felt like days. I couldn’t even trust myself to guess how long it took for them to get images that should have taken no longer than 5 minutes.
I felt like such a burden. Like I was in their way. Like I was doing it wrong. Like I was a little kid, thinking that she knew what she was doing and could do it on her own.
I wanted Spencer.
That was the only thing I could think, and although it should have been comforting, it just left me feeling empty. The thought of him wasn’t enough to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. The hands of the nurses trying to calm me down didn’t help, either. They felt wrong. They felt cold.
I just wanted Spencer. I wanted him to be there to hold my hand and distract me from my own thoughts. I wanted him to replace them with other things, like he'd promised me. I wanted to make new memories far away from here.
But I couldn’t. I was an idiot and I’d gotten myself back in the hospital, and he wasn’t here because I told him I didn’t want him to be. Why had I told him that? There was no reason that made any sense.
Once we finally did get out of the damn radiology department, I could still only barely function. The ride back to my room was much quieter, and the nurse didn’t meddle anymore. Gossip was only fun when it didn’t hurt like this.
Again, I couldn’t trust myself to guess how long I’d been in the CT scanner, but as we crossed back into my room, an overwhelming sensation of relief washed over me when I saw his satchel in the seat beside my bed. I hated the knowledge that I’d wasted 45 minutes of the technician’s time, but I was just so fucking happy that he had actually come.
Being alone in my room wasn’t a big deal anymore, because I knew it was only temporary. So as soon as I could, I sat up and waited patiently for my favorite mop of curly brown hair to peek around the corner.
He didn’t disappoint. He rarely did.
“Hey little girl.”
All the tension melted from my muscles, my head finally resting against the pillow with a dopey smile on my face. “Spencer.” I sighed, holding my hand out to him to usher him closer.
He gladly took the invitation, taking wide steps so he could be with me sooner.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I grumbled, flicking him on the arm while I locked our hands together. “But I’m glad you are.”
It was obvious from the way he let out a deep breath that he was also relieved to see that I wasn’t angry at him for coming. However, that’s also where his relief stopped. Because he’d seen me an hour prior and knew that I hadn't been crying then. But now, on top of the black eye, he saw the red rimming my sclera.
Taking my hand into both of his, he pressed a hard kiss against the back of it. Without looking up, he muttered into the skin a sad plea.
“Talk to me.”
“About what?” I asked, pulling back on my hand so he would stop with the shameless display of romance in such an awful place.
“Whatever’s going on.” He paused, but was clearly unhappy with the open ended question, and just as quickly specified, “What happened last night?
Unfortunately, I still wasn’t in the giving mood, even when it was information, and even if the person begging me for it was the boyfriend that I’d just cried for in the CT Scanner. If anything, that almost made it worse.
I hated feeling like this. Vulnerable.
“Nothing.”
Spencer was getting fed up, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself from fighting with him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell him that I needed him to take care of me and ask him to hold me while I cried on his shoulder about nothing at all, but I couldn’t. He would do it in a heartbeat, but I couldn’t ask him to. I couldn’t ask him for anything.
I couldn’t need anything without feeling too horribly guilty.
“Please don’t lie to me.” He was begging again, looking up at me with those impossibly warm amber eyes. He smiled when he saw the way my lips curled at the sight of him, unable to be angry for too long.
“Am I not allowed to have any stories for myself?” I joked, reaching forward to poke his face. Instead of moving away to avoid my hand, he leaned into the touch.
“You can. I just...”
“I know. You’re worried.” I responded with an exasperated sigh, rolling my head back. I could still feel him watching me, though, with a precarious smile, happy to see my spirits relatively high while also being deeply unhappy about the circumstances.
Wanting to see that full, confident smile again, I realized I didn’t have much of a choice. I’m sure that whatever he’d come up with in his head was much more sinister than what had actually happened.
“Fine. Stop looking at me like that.” I mumbled, gesturing to the childlike pout and laughing when he sucked his lips into his mouth in an attempt to follow my direction. I was glad he was still in a joking mood, because I had a feeling it would disappear as soon as I started talking.
I took a deep breath, looking up and away before I began my explanation of the stupidest night.
“I went out for drinks with my friends–”
“Drinks?!”
It hadn’t even been five seconds and he’d already cut me off. I couldn’t blame him, but it was so freaking annoying. This was exactly why I hadn't told him. Well, that and the fact he could get in serious trouble.
“I didn’t have any! Geez. Chill out.” I yelled back, chuckling a little bit at the conflicting looks of terror and relief. Because while he obviously believed that I didn’t drink any myself, it gave ugly context to the nightmarish guesses his mind had concocted.
“And everything was fine. We were on our way home. But then some asshole started messing with my friend. And she was way too drunk and started crying.” I was groaning internally the whole time, thinking about all the different ways this whole situation could have been avoided. Honestly, I don’t know why she had decided to try and square up with a cat caller when she knew damn well that she would start crying the second he raised his voice.
Which, of course, he had.
“So, I told the guy to fuck off. And he did not like it.”
There was a powerful rage boiling under the surface of Spencer’s skin, which was only betrayed by his clenched jaw and the sheets scrunched under his hand. “Did they arrest him?” He said, trying to calm the trembling in his voice. He wasn’t angry at me for being a victim, even if he was probably a little annoyed that I went out without telling him.
Not like he was even in the state, anyway.
“I didn’t press charges.”
He took a deep breath, clearly about to tell me that I was stupid for not holding him accountable. That I could’ve gotten hurt and he would’ve gotten away with it. That I could’ve died if he’d hurt me the wrong way.
I didn’t want to hear it.
“Stop. I didn’t want to go to court, and I’m fine. I didn’t even need invasive surgery again.”
Spencer was still angry but trying to settle himself down before he spoke. He could hardly even look at me, his hand leaving the bed to run through his hair and shake his keys in his pockets.
I wanted to tell him that the tension of silence was worse than if he’d just raised his voice at me, but I couldn’t even gather the energy to do that. My body and mind seemed resigned to their current state; they’d just given up.
“(Y/n)...” He started, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the use of my name. They didn’t retreat, especially not when he dragged a chair over to my bedside, sitting down and placing a gentle hand over mine again.
“Are you okay?”
It was so sincere. So pure, so unforgivably kind. My hand that had felt paralyzed seconds earlier twitched under his. “I just told you.” I shrugged, fighting the urge to pull my arm away again. I wanted him here. I wanted him to touch me.
So why did it hurt? Why did everything hurt?
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His voice broke, and I saw the way he was holding back tears with his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth. He was biting back so many things he didn’t want me to know.
But again, I was too tired to fight it. So instead, I said nothing.
“It doesn’t take a profiler to see you’re hurting.” He continued, urging me to give him anything to work with. “How can I make it better?”
He just wanted to help. Why couldn’t I let him help?
“I’m fine. Nothing even happened to me.” My throat tried to reject the words, my brain screaming at me that they were fundamentally untrue. But my heart hurt, pounding louder in my chest to tell me that the logic was wrong. Because I was a big girl, and I shouldn’t be scared by things that already happened.
I’m safe, right? I don’t need to be scared, right?
Spencer could see the panic on my face because I couldn’t even have hid it if I'd wanted to. And my brain was telling me to not to. It told me that I needed to talk to him, to let him listen.
“That’s not true. You’ve been through a lot.” He bargained, trying to locate that little voice in my head with his offerings. He wanted to pull that small part of me out and force it to talk so that we might finally be able to start to move on.
“You go through worse every day.”
‘It’s common for patients suffering from PTSD to minimize their suffering or compare it to others. It’s a completely normal response, but I want you to try to resist belittling your own feelings. They’re yours, and no one else’s. Okay, sweetheart?’
The voice was so clear in my head, my body jerked in response. I looked around the room, looking for any sign of the man who’d told me them first. But he wasn’t here; he hadn’t been here for some time.
“Do you know how many profilers I’ve seen leave in my time at the bureau?” Spencer distracted me from the thought. He probably figured my flashbacks were more sinister than what they actually were. As upsetting as they had once been, hearing my dad’s voice in my head was usually oddly soothing.
“No.” I answered blankly, trying to pay all attention to the man who was still here.
“Four. And I’ve considered it myself.” There was a soft chuckle to hide the guilt in the admission.
I didn’t know why he felt bad for it; his job was so ridiculously difficult. On top of constantly having to rearrange his life on account of the various inextinguishable evils in the world, he had to face those evils every day and try to figure out their inner workings in order to thwart them. The only time I'd ever done that, I'd killed all three of them. Not the best track record.
“The first one, she... she reminds me a lot of you.” The soft twinkling in his eyes, much like emotional music in the movies, alerted me that a backstory was coming. Based on the extent of just how nostalgic he was coming, I guessed that whatever he was about to say was deeply important to him.
However, I was fragile enough as it was, and I didn’t need to add jealousy to my current emotional repertoire. “Is this another JJ origin story? Cause I don’t think I can handle it.”
He laughed, shaking his head at the frustrated pout that formed on my face. “No,” He said quietly, taking a pregnant pause to formulate the story. “Her name was Elle.”
The story he told was woven well, although I expected no less. He told it passionately and with absolute sincerity. He told me about the woman who was one of the first people he'd bonded with on the team. The playful relationship he described was painted so vividly in my imagination.
I wanted to meet her. But by the end of the story, it was obvious that it wasn’t an option. He didn’t say anything about it, but from the far off look I could guess that he hadn’t seen her since that last day.
“She was like a sister to me, and to see her fall apart and not be able to do anything to help her... it was one of the worst feelings in the world.”
And I understood then, why he was worried about me the way he was. He was projecting his previous experience on me, but things were different with me. At least, that’s what I told myself. Realistically I should have been reminding myself that she'd had the training and resources to overcome her obstacles, whereas I was basically still a stupid kid. The prospect of facing the reality was too difficult though; I just shrugged it off.
“Well, I already killed the people who did this to me.” I chuckled.
Spencer did not appreciate my humor. There was an even stronger concern that flashed over his features, worried by my flippancy over the death of three human beings.
Fuck, I should feel worse about it than I do, shouldn’t I? But if I thought about it, then it hurt so badly. If I had to pick one, I would pick apathy every time. I would choose the emptiness before the ocean of remorse.
“I’m not worried about them.”
I had drifted away from him again, and the sentence forced me to look at him.
‘I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about you.’
I’d said that before. Those were my words.
I pulled my hand back from Spencer, rubbing my forehead with both hands before wincing at the sharp pain around my eye socket. It took me a minute to focus on the sentence and dive deeper into its implications. But once I remembered why it instilled such a visceral reaction, I nearly gagged on the words.
“Wait, you think I’m going to kill myself?”
“I didn’t say that.” He quickly responded in the most defensive manner possible. If that was his attempt to calm me down, it did not work. It only pissed me off even more.
Because there was only one reason why he would think I was going to kill myself. I hadn’t given him any reason to believe that was a risk. Yeah, sure, I was being reckless and impulsive, but I was a teenager!
“Why would you think that?” I demanded an answer, and he was immediately hesitant to provide one. It was all the evidence I needed to reach my conclusion. “Don’t lie to me, Spencer Reid. You asked Hotch, didn’t you?”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair now that it was obvious, I wasn’t going to want him to touch me. “Yeah, I did.”
“You told me you wouldn’t, Spencer! You promised!” I ground the words out between my teeth, hoping he understood just how much I was holding back my volume.
He looked over at the screen monitoring my heart, noting the way the spikes appeared at an exponentially faster rate. “I know.” He whispered with an evident guilt.
“What did he tell you?” I hated the way my voice shrank with my shoulders, my body insisting that I assume to the smallest position I could. Because as much as I hated that Spencer had asked when he told me he wouldn’t, I was desperate for the information.
I’d always wanted to see the files, to hear the story as they knew it. I wanted to know what happened, and this was probably the closest I’d ever come to that, unless that whole Ouija board thing is real.
“Probably the same stuff that you already know.” He knew he was disappointing me. He shouldn’t have felt as bad about that as he did, but I’d take the implicit apology for what it was.
“Tell me anyway.”
Spencer should have been delighted to have the opportunity to talk at me for such a long time, but I also understood why he wasn’t. They weren’t the best topics of conversation, your ex-best friend and your girlfriend’s dead father. But he was a trooper and a skilled conversationalist, despite people not being able to understand that.
“He told me that there were several missions your father was a part of that ended controversially. That… he reported several violations that were never followed through on.”
The words so easily unlocked memories I had tightly and resolutely locked away, it was unsettling. I could hear my parents arguing about the philosophy of blame and responsibility. My dad always arguing that he couldn’t stand aside and let innocent people get hurt. My mom reminding him that he couldn’t save everyone.
‘We also get to see a lot of good.’ Spencer had said on our first not-a-date.
‘Yeah, but which do you see more of?’ I’d asked, and he’d avoided the question. I remembered seeing the question dance across his vision before he shut it out. He'd wondered why I was so confident in my conclusions.
“And the last mission…”
He didn’t have to wonder anymore.
“I saw the report.”
My breath was knocked from my lungs by an invisible fist to my damaged gut. I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart that was at risk of setting off the damn machine next to me. “What did it say?” I whispered, clutching onto the sheets and my gown, hoping it would be enough to keep me grounded.
“Killed in action.”
“That’s fucking bullshit.” I barked, my brows furrowing regardless of just how badly it hurt to contort my face so badly. “He didn’t– H-He wasn’t–“
“I know.” Spencer responded, a note of pity in his voice that made my face twitch in annoyance.
I turned to him with the same snarl, years of repressed anger resurfacing and wreaking even more havoc on my already destroyed life. “Do you? Do you know?”
“I mean, I can’t ever know for sure but… You weren’t the only one who felt that he...” He couldn’t say the word suicide, and for once, I was grateful. “It seems like all of his team had the same concerns.”
He was trying so hard to calm me down, to placate my fears and rage. He was sympathizing the best he could, but the truth was he would never be able to understand just how fucked up it was. He hadn't been there when it was happening, so the only thing he could do was try to slap a band-aid on a well-settled scar and hope that my not being able to see it made it hurt less.
“I’m sorry.” He uttered the two words cautiously, his heartbreak clear in his eyes. He had nothing to apologize for, but there he was, doing it anyway.
“For what?”
“That you’ll never have your answer.”
I don’t know what I expected him to say, but his answer took me by surprise. Of all the explanations I’d heard after an unnecessary platitudinous apology, I’d never heard that. And even worse, I’d never heard it in such a broken way, sounding for all the world like he believed he'd failed tremendously.
“I’m sorry that... that I couldn’t find it for you.”
I couldn’t stand the sight, and my hand found his cheek like it did so often, returning home to find that it was just a bit more stubbly than I remembered it. “It’s not your job, Spencer. We’re not one of your cases.” I assured him, running my thumb over the rough skin and remembering that he’d only just gotten home from exactly that: a case.
He did so much for me every day, but in the past few months he’d had to do so much more. And as much as I tried not to, I took him for granted so often. It was never as obvious to me as it was in that moment, when a tear slid down his cheek at the tenderness of my touch. He always expected anger and pain. I didn’t want him to feel that way with me.
“But thank you for trying. I appreciate you.” I tried to throw my soul into the words as they formed on my tongue, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper. “I love you very much.”
“I love you, too.” He sighed into the small embrace, leaning his weight more heavily into my hand. Still holding back, he grimaced at the words he shared. “If I’m going to be honest, I looked something else up myself. Not on any FBI database just... old school research”
I wanted to act surprised, but it was the least shocking thing I’d heard in a while. So instead I just stared at him, with the closest I could come to boredom while still being interested in what he had to say.
“Yeah? What’d you find?” Finally settling into the inevitable resignation, I moved my hand up the side of his face to tangle in his hair. It was so soft despite not having been washed for a few days. I could tell he hadn’t slept much. I wondered why he'd bothered digging into my past in the precious little free time he had.
But then he said it, reminding me of the pain of the cemetery and the events that both preceded and followed it.
“Trent Loughton.”
My fingers stopped in their exploration of his curls for a second, but eventually continued. “I see.” I hummed, trying not to push the conversation any further than he wanted to take it. As emotional as the topic was for me, it must have been harder for him. After all, he was the one who shared the nasty habit with Trent.
“I-I saw how he died... and I think I can fill in the rest myself.”
“Mrs. Loughton did give a lot of clues.” I laughed, mostly to stop myself from crying. That woman didn’t deserve any more of my tears. It was because of her that I’d spent years trying to convince myself that Trent’s death wasn’t my fault. Deep down, a part of me still believed her.
But honestly, it wasn’t my opinion that really mattered to me. It was Spencer’s. If he thought I was a failure, or that it was my fault for what happened, I wasn’t sure we’d ever be able to move past it. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to move past it.
“The drugs he overdosed on... they weren’t yours.”
Relief washed over me, but my mind told me not to get too comfortable, yet. “No, they weren’t.” My body had such a strange reaction to the words being said without an argument. I didn’t need to convince Spencer; he already knew. He not only believed me – he had come to the conclusion himself.
“So why did you say they were?”
It was such an easy answer, I knew he had to know it already. His hesitance to come to conclusions on my behalf, while appreciated, wasn’t necessary in this situation. “Pretty little girl with no record and a batshit war hero dad stood a better chance in the criminal justice system. I didn’t ask my dad to protect me, but he did.”
Spencer clearly sympathized with my father more so than me in that moment, which made my heart flutter in a remarkably inappropriate manner. I just couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that those damn psychologists were right – We really do sometimes pick men that remind us of our fathers.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Spencer said under his breath, and I wondered which one he was even talking about. It honestly could have applied to my whole life. He would have meant it each time, too. Because to him I couldn’t do anything wrong. I tried to take solace in that, but it honestly caused another voice to creep into the back of my mind.
I’d never be as good as he saw me. I’d never be worthy of his love.
Shoving those anxieties away again, I nodded in solemn recognition of the years I spent working to come to that same conclusion. “I know. It just took me a while to figure it out.”
My hand finally fell away from his face, although he grabbed my wrist to stop it from going too far. There was another hesitancy in his body language. His face turned down and his leg bouncing so gently I almost missed it.
“Is he the one you were talking about? The one you loved?”
Ah, nothing like a subtle hint of jealousy to boost a girl’s ego. I chuckled at the sound, swaying a bit in place to let him suffer a millisecond longer. “No. Not exactly.”
But then I genuinely couldn’t figure out how to say it. How could I describe what we had shared, when I'd spent so long trying to forget it? Had I loved him? Probably. No, I'd definitely loved him, just not in the way Spencer was thinking. Not like I loved Spencer.
“It was like, he always liked me, and I always thought we’d end up together because that’s how it happens in the movies, right? I was supposed to fall in love with him.” I ranted, trying to move my hands that were currently wrapped up in Spencer’s. “But I didn’t, and then he was gone and...”
We both stopped, his eyes trailing after me with questions he didn’t voice yet. He wanted me to finish before he decided whether or not they were worth it. I wanted to explain to him that they weren’t. As important as Trent was to me, he was gone.
“It’s fine. I’m sure he would be glad I found someone who makes me happy.” I was confident in that, at least. Because as I stared into those big hazel eyes, forcing themselves to stay open just to listen to me talk about my life, I was glad, too. “Even if that someone snoops too much for his own good.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
There were many reasons, most of which I didn’t want to go into. But the way he was looking at me shattered my heart into a million pieces, and I knew that if I lied to him now, it would only make it harder to put those parts back together.
He just wanted to help. I knew I should let him help.
“I didn’t want to think about it.” I admitted for the first time out loud. “I didn’t want to consider all the similarities. I didn’t want you to think I was just looking for a man to replace the ones I’ve lost.”
I couldn’t tell when I started to cry, but it was even more exhausting and painful than normal. Which is why I didn’t hesitate to accept Spencer’s offer when he stood up, wrapping his arms around me just tightly enough that it wouldn’t hurt.
“I didn’t want to lose you, too.” I whined, the comforting scent of his cologne filling my lungs and reminding me of all the beautiful moments we’d shared so far. We had so many more to go.
“You won’t lose me. I’m here to stay.” He said, reading my mind like he always did.
“I know.” I started to laugh, but this time it wasn’t held back by secrets. “You’d think a girl could lose you by getting in a bar fight an hour away and going to an unnamed hospital but nooo...”
He laughed too, although his was much more reserved. Spoilsport.
Spencer’s arms tightened around me briefly, holding me closer to him before he backed away, his hands finding home on my cheeks. I anticipated a kiss, which was usually what happened when he held me like that. But he didn’t kiss me, instead giving me a gentle instruction.
“(Y/n), look at me.”
My eyes, bruised and dry, still opened at his command.
“No jokes. No lies.” He asked, clearly enunciating each word. “Should I be worried about you?”
All I could hear was the sound of my heart and the humming of the machines. I was brought back to the CT scanner, the way it felt to be choking on air. Flashes of other men I loved were racing through my mind. I couldn’t save them, I remembered, before my eyes landed back on Spencer.
My stomach twisted at the memory of a wooden box, a check, and suddenly all I smelled was the pine of the forest.
“(Y/n)?” He asked again, although I saw he’d already received half of the answer.
“No. I’m fine.”
The most terrifying part about it was that I believed what I said, but the look on Spencer’s face told me that I was lying. And I believed that, too.
—————————————————
The thing about coming back from a gunshot wound to the stomach is that it takes a ridiculously annoying amount of time. Like, yeah, the pain is something awful, but the wait for things to return to normal was even worse.
I didn’t even know how long it’d been, my brain blocking out anything that reminded me of that day. If I ever really needed to know, Spencer could tell me. I was basically only keeping track of the days by deadlines for school and the dwindling prescriptions I had left.
My follow-up appointment was next week, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Spencer told me he would come with me, but I hadn’t really heard from him in a couple of days. He didn’t even have time to tell me about the case, although I could tell it was one of the “bad” ones – not that there were really any “good” ones.
But still, it was almost 11pm and I was about to go to sleep, but I wanted to wait a little bit longer before I called it a night. I was just hoping that I’d be able to talk to him, even if it was just to say goodnight. I missed his voice like crazy.
So when my phone lit up, I didn’t even look at the caller ID. There weren’t many people who would call me this late on a Friday – my friends were all already out for the night.
“Hello?” I sang into the receiver, already excitedly spinning around in my chair.
But the voice that responded was decidedly not Spencer.
“Hey, (y/n), right? It’s JJ.”
Her voice rang like a record scratch through my head, and I halted in my chair. “Oh, hey JJ... Why are you calling me?” Suddenly, my enthusiasm morphed into an overwhelming anxiety and darkness that threatened to crush everything in its path. “I-Is everything alright?”
But then I heard it. The sound of terrible music, loud laughter, and the general bustle of a restaurant. It was followed by an even more nervous JJ, “Uhh, yeah. Everything is fine. I was calling because Spencer might have had a few too many drinks and—“
Above the chaotic noise that I just described, I heard Spencer Reid loud and clear. Well, maybe not the clear part. His inaudible slurring sounded vaguely like a rant I’d heard before. Then again, hadn't I heard them all at this point? ?
I hadn’t put it together yet, though, and once I did, I couldn’t help but laugh. “My boyfriend is drunk? Cute.”
I was already standing, gathering my things and tossing my jacket on to head out when I asked, “Do you want me to come get him?”
“Please.” I’d never heard a more relieved woman in my life. The very thought of him driving his best friends insane with his drunken lessons was enough to combat my exhaustion. The poor thing was probably humiliating himself one sip at a time.
But for every chuckle, I was really just hiding a deeper concern. Spencer wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Spencer wasn’t allowed to drink, and he knew that. Out of the two of us, he was the one who put himself at risk more often, and I had a goddamn bullet wound.
“Sure thing. Just send me the address.”
It dawned on me somewhere along the 20 minute drive that Spencer had not only finished his case, but also come home and gone out for a drink with his team. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but the fact that he hadn’t told me about any of it...?
I tried not to think about it, knowing that talking to him about it tonight would be a waste of time, anyway. From the way he'd sounded over the phone, he wouldn’t be in any state to talk about the deep nuances of addiction and our relationship.
So I pushed it away, trying to enjoy the fact that I’d be able to see him again. Now that we’d cleared the air about my past, things felt strangely calm. I told myself it wasn’t just the eye of the storm because I wasn't sure I could handle much more excitement lately.
Showing up at one of the bars I used to frequent didn’t do much to convince me otherwise, either. The stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit me like a freight train as soon as I stepped out of my car. How did I do this every other night before?
As I approached the door, I didn’t even recognize the bouncer’s figure in the shade of the dim porch light. I recognized his voice, though, that’s for sure.
“Hey Jailbait, haven’t seen you around.”
Shit. Slower now, I hesitantly approached him with the most innocent and well-meaning look I could muster, knowing full well that another part of my life was going to be exposed tonight. At least this time, Spencer was the story and not the listener.
“Hey Tom...” I nervously laughed, drawing out the words while I came to a stop.
“Heard some pretty crazy shit went down to keep you off the scene. Must be bad if it keeps you away from me.”
It was weird to think that they talked about me. But I guess it was to be expected; we were all friends before Spencer Reid. And when someone in those friend groups goes missing suddenly, there’s usually reason to be worried. But in my situation, the worry wasn’t really necessary (aside from the whole being shot thing, I guess).
“Crazy is a good word for it.”
He leaned forward, beckoning for me to move in even closer with a wave of his hand. I complied, although I was a little confused as to why we were being so secretive.
“Hey, sorry, but... I can’t let you in tonight. You know I normally would, but the place is swarming with feds tonight.”
Then I remembered that I actually had to explain the reason for my absence, rather than just think about it in the abstract. “Oh no, I know.” I peered around him, trying to spot the man past the door. It wasn’t hard, considering how goddamn tall he was.
I pointed to him, causing Tom to turn with an amused grin before I explained, “I’m here for the drunk noodle man.”
The look on his face – hilarious, and a little insulting.
“What? Jailbait’s picking up a fed? Damn girl what’ve you been into?” He laughed, barely able to control himself. He laughed so hard, in fact, I’m surprised there weren’t tears in his eyes.
“Stop that.” I whined, but he didn’t listen.
“Does he know who he’s dating?”
The question hurt more than he could have anticipated. I didn’t want to confront those messy feelings, so I bundled them all into an annoyed exclamation. “Yes, he knows!” I huffed, crossing my arms and turning away from him as I stepped towards the door. “So can I go get him?”
He composed himself rather quickly after that, shaking his head and unhooking the rope that blocked off the door. “Please do. If I have to hear one more fact about Ancient Rome, I might quit.”
With the last obstacle gone, I happily skipped through the door, the excitement returning in a bubbling wave through my chest. “Thanks, Tom!” I chirped, barely giving him a glance as I raced through the door.
The only person more surprised to see me than Tom was Spencer. Although, to his credit, I did practically launch myself at his side. We both nearly toppled to the ground thanks to our lack of coordination, but we were luckily stopped by the bar he was leaning against.
“Boo!” I shouted in his ear, hearing a small, surprised gasp from my boyfriend.
“(Y/n)?” He turned towards me now, stars quickly forming in his eyes as a big, goofy smile spread across his face. It took him a minute, but eventually he recognized me in the dim light.
“Hey old man.”
Hugging me back just a little too tightly, he began to gush, “Oh my gosh. What are you doing here?” Of course, before I could answer, he came to several other conclusions. “Wait! This is a bar. You can’t be here! You aren’t twenty one!”
He thought he was whispering, but he definitely, definitely was not.
“I’m here to pick you up, not party.” I actually whispered back, turning to see JJ practically hiding at the table. I’m guessing he hasn't wanted her to call me, although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t care at this point. He seemed pretty happy I was there.
“You can’t pick me up. You’re hurt.”
I didn’t even know where to start with that, so I just chuckled. “Smart as a whip, Dr. Reid.”
I ran my hands over his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkled dress shirt he'd either had no time to iron, or had worn to bed the night before. I didn’t like either of those options. Spencer must have noticed me analyzing the fact, because his hand came up to stop me.
Trying to quickly change the subject, I blurted out over the terrible music, “Even when I’m hurt, I can probably still pick you up. You probably weigh the same as me.”
He scoffed, looking down at his lanky body compared to mine before shaking his head. “That’s hurtful, (y/n).” He attempted a puppy dog face, which only made laughter burst from my pursed lips.
Grabbing hold of his wrists and pulling him away from the bar, I turned and waved to the few team members I could spot among the crowd before returning to my drunken idiot of a boyfriend. “Come on, love. It’s time to take you home with me.”
When the cool autumn air hit him, I felt the goosebumps ripple over his arm. He leaned a bit closer, resting too much of his body weight on me for my comfort, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop.
“How did you find me?” He mumbled, trying to touch me more than he currently was. Pushing him away from me was supposed to serve as a gentle reminder that we were in public, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all.
“JJ called me.”
“They all like you a lot. So do I.” His fast responses were a little less impressive considering how spontaneous they seemed, but I let it slide. As long as he was saying nice things, it was fine by me.
Guiding him as gently as possible, which is to say not gently at all considering he was essentially a human giraffe, I sighed. “I’m glad to hear it, Spencer. Maybe I can actually hang out with them one of these days.”
The guilt appeared before I could stop it, but it was the least of my worries at the moment. More concerning would be getting him into his house and in bed without either of us doing something stupid. After all, he was usually the one who stopped me from being stupid. And so far tonight, he’d already done something pretty damn stupid.
As I pulled the driver side door closed, a silence filled the car. Spencer was stuck between staring at me with a lovesick smile and looking away, probably because of his pink cheeks making him look a perfect combination of embarrassed and plastered.
“So what had you drinking, Spencer?”
“A case.” He shot back with that voice he usually reserved for the bedroom. It was the voice that told me not to press, to take his answer and let it die.
Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that this time, concerning this particular topic. . “Good thing or bad thing drinking?” I asked quietly.
I think he wanted to snap at me, to tell me that it was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t. The way my hands and words trembled told him that I was just as scared as he was that the answer might be the wrong one.
“I don’t know,” was what he said, instead.
“Okay.” I accepted that answer, understanding that it meant we could talk about it later, when his blood went back to normal and his mind was where it should be. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
And there we were, me sitting and staring at the indicators on the car as the engine turned, and him staring at me in the little light provided. After staring back at him for a moment, I had to ask the glaringly obvious question.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
That’s when Spencer Reid let out an honest to god giggle, his hands reaching out to massage my face that no longer showed any signs of the black eye I'd received a few weeks prior. “You’re sooo pretty.” He drawled, slumping over in his seat so he could rest his face against my shoulder.
I couldn’t help but laugh back, petting his hair for a second before returning my attention to the wheel. “Oooh, I like this.” I whispered, letting my heart skip a few beats as he nuzzled into the warmth that only I could provide him.
“I love you.” He mumbled against my shirt, letting out a deep breath before apparently trying to fill his lungs with the smell of my laundry detergent.
The sensation of his breath hot against my neck caused a familiar desire to stir in me, just barely beaten out by the even more powerful adoration I had for the puppy-like man who was already practically asleep on my shoulder.
“I love you, too, darling.”
He didn’t hear me, his soft breath indicating that he would be out for the drive. Taking my time to avoid the roads with potholes and curves, I managed to keep Spencer on me the whole way back to his apartment. Once we were there, though, I didn’t have any option but to wake him up. Unlike him, I definitely could not carry him out of the car.
It took him a surprisingly long period of time to realize that we were not, in fact, at my place. As soon as he did notice, he rubbed his eyes like it would transform the door in front of him. “Why didn’t you take me home?”
“This is your apartment, babe.” I explained, digging through his pockets to find his keys. He jumped at the contact before letting out a sound that was way too close to a moan for him to be making in the hallway.
“Yeah that’s not home.” He answered, swallowing down other noises that threatened to erupt by the time I withdrew my hand. “But home is–“ He hiccuped, patting his finger on my nose as he tried to stabilize his feet. “Home is where you are.”
“Mmm, so smooth.” I hummed, unlocking the door and shoving his drunk ass into the apartment before he could do something else that made me question whether I should just turn around and go home.
But he just looked so proud of himself, spinning around on his feet and crashing into the table beside the door. “Thank you!” He chirped, reaching forward to grab my hand and pull me closer.
When our bodies pressed together, the first thing I noticed was the fact he was clearly much more excited to be home with me than he was letting on. The thin fabric of his slacks left little to the imagination, and when my hand slid over the tent in his pants, there was nothing left to wonder.
“I brought you here... because I didn’t want to have to be quiet.” I purred, palming his erection over his clothes.
Through his broken moans, he still managed to ask the silliest question: “Why are you going to be loud?”
He was so fucking cute; so remarkably innocent in his drunken stupor, it was hard to remember that he was the same man that once finger fucked me on the metro.
“Why do you think?” I asked just as sweetly, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.
Spencer still just stared, mesmerized by the way the buttons slipped from the fabric between my fingers. Once they were all open, I ran my hands over his chest before wrapping my arms around his neck.
He was the one to close the gap, coming down to deliver a feverish kiss against my lips. He tasted like honey and whiskey, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in him. His hands were on my lower back, sneaking under my shirt and spreading goosebumps all over my skin.
I moaned into his mouth with the utmost desperation, murmuring words against his lips. “Take me to bed, Spencer,” I begged.
The words awoke something in him, and suddenly, his hands were off of me and raised in the air.
“Wait— I can’t.” He concluded, drawing in heavy breaths.
“Why not?”
I wasn’t sure which part of this situation did him in, although I had my suspicions. As much as I wanted him, I would suppress those urges if he was really, truly uncomfortable. I almost felt bad for a second, but then he spoke again.
“I have a girlfriend.”
With a few slow blinks, I tried to figure out how the hell I was supposed to return a serious answer. Deciding that was impossible, I deadpan replied, “I am your girlfriend, you absolute idiot.”
I took his stunned silence to be permission enough to start leading him into his room. He honestly looked like I’d just told him all the answers to the universe, and he trailed after me like my hand was a leash. Still, once I sat on the bed and pulled his body against mine, he paused again.
“My girlfriend can’t— she’s hurt. She can’t have sex with me.”
I got the impression he was trying to reason with himself more so than with me, which explained the third person. But it was deeply unsettling, because I really needed to know he was here in this moment with me.
“Stop saying 'she'. It’s me, babe.” I gently reminded, and I watched it dawn on him again, his eyes lighting up in the darkness. Sliding my hand up his arm, I pulled him forward to hopefully convince him to climb into the bed with me. “And we don’t have to have sex.”
Funny enough, Spencer was the one who had enough sense to strip off most of his clothes before he stumbled onto the mattress after me. His lack of coordination was even worse with the alcohol, and it reminded me of the virginal teenager I’m certain he once was.
It was strange to consider, that if we’d met each other under different circumstances, at a different time, our roles might have been somewhat reversed. To picture him as an innocent little thing was... kind of exciting.
But he was anything but innocent now, his face hanging over mine while he helped me disrobe, trying to focus his analytical abilities on me in his haze. Finding no pain or hesitancy, he crashed his lips over mine with an energy I hadn’t seen in some time.
And it was so invigorating, to feel his skin against mine without him having to constantly worry about whether or not he was hurting me. It’d been far too long since we shared a bed together like this, and now that it was happening, I could hardly breathe.
“God, I love her.” He whispered against my skin, before quickly correcting himself, “I love you.”
I laughed, the kind that sputters from your lips when you try to hold it back. Pushing the hair from his face, I ran my fingers over his scalp. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.” He replied with a cheeky smirk, diving back down to kiss me again. I wasn’t going to argue with the brilliant Spencer Reid, even if the point he was making was that he was, in fact, stupid.
Maybe it was stupid, the two of us tangling up in his sheets despite the fact that I hadn’t been cleared for it yet by my doctor. I knew that it was coming soon – probably at my appointment in a couple weeks, actually – so why wait? I knew that Spencer would never hurt me. Even now, his hands were gentle in their insistence, raking over my hip and stopping just short of the place where I really wanted him.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groaned, his hips rocking forward and pressing his erection against my leg.
“Touch me.” I ordered, louder and more forcefully than I intended. I was expecting an argument, but I didn’t get one. In fact, Spencer’s finger had already breached my folds before I even finished talking. Unwilling to let him be the only one to enjoy himself, I reached down to grab his cock.
“Shit.” He hissed, biting down on his lip while he rutted against my hand. “I just want to hold you down and fuck you until you cry.” The restraint was obvious in the fingers slowly sinking into me, his jaw clenched and his eyes barely able to stay open. “But I can’t.”
Through my heavy breaths, I panted out another request. “Tell me more about it.”
He immediately realized why I’d asked, and his fingers began to pump in and out of me faster and with more force, his lips trailing kisses over to my ear. While I tried to keep up the pace of my strokes, it became more complicated when his breath fanned over my ear.
“It’s been so long since I bent you over and had my way with you like I did that morning over your kitchen counter...” He moaned, and I could almost feel the sensations as he remembered them. Although his fingers would never be the same, just having him inside me in any capacity felt like pure bliss.
But he wasn’t done, continuing to speak his thoughts into my ear. “I just want to—fuck, I want to fill you up.” I went to respond, but I choked on a sob, instead. The lewd sounds between us only aided his descriptions.
“God, I love the way you feel. You’re always so wet for me.” He whispered, beginning to make small thrusts with his hips. The movement essentially allowed him to use my hand to stroke himself, and he let out another unsteady moan at the contact. “Think about what it feels like, little girl.”
“I-I am.” I could barely make the words come out; my body too sensitive to his touch after being starved of it for so long. And Spencer was ready to take full advantage of that.
“I still have so much planned for you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that little stunt you pulled when you got all riled up.” He growled, using his free hand to grab a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head further to the side, laying sloppy kisses along my jaw. “I told you I’d give you triple the marks you left on me, and I can’t wait to cover you with me.”
“Fuck. Please, Spencer.” I hoarsely begged, my hand on his shoulder tightening so that my nails dug into his skin. If his grip on my hair wasn’t so tight, I would have thrown my head back. Instead, I just squirmed underneath him, crying out, “I’m so close, Spencer, please!”
He did not disappoint, his fingers curling inside of me with each thrust, and by some grace of God, he was able to coordinate his thumb over my clit. As if that wasn’t enough, he pulled back to look me in the eyes.
“I want to feel you come on my fingers.” It was more of a demand than a desire, as evidenced by the way his hand tugged on my hair. “Come on, little girl. Make daddy proud.”
Just like that, my body responded to his call, my muscles trembling from the tension as my orgasm hit me like a fucking freight train. It was such an overwhelming experience, to remember exactly how Spencer was capable of making me feel.
And he knew it, too. “Oh, good girl,” he cooed, continuing his kisses against my neck and murmuring the words as they came to him. “That’s my pretty little slut.”
After taking my time coming back to earth, I struggled from the overstimulation still burning between my legs. Spencer hadn’t stopped his fingers, which were diligently stroking inside of me while he continued to buck his hips against my hand.
“I want you to finish inside me.” I slurred in my delirium, withdrawing my hand from his dick while he whimpered.
“I-I can’t. I can’t fuck you.” He was asserting a necessary and understandable hard limit, and it was clear I wouldn’t be able to convince him to fuck me that night.
But that wasn’t the plan, anyway.
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I said between gasps, struggling against his fingers still inside me. “Come up here.” I whined, rubbing my hands on his shoulders while simultaneously trying to sit myself up.
The movement and the words made him withdraw completely. “(Y/n)...” He warned, running a hand through his hair while he sat up on his knees. “I could hurt you.”
“That’s always been a risk with us, Spencer.” My retort was both quick and persuasive, judging by the way he almost moved, but stopped himself yet again.
“Please. Please, do it. I want you to do it so fucking bad.” There was an obvious and deep desperation. I was literally begging him, to the point that I swore I almost cried. It felt stupid, but I needed him like I’d never needed anything in my life before. He’d spent months taking care of me, and I couldn’t do anything in return.
I just wanted to make him feel good, to give him something like we used to share.
Of course, I think those thoughts were also visible on my face, and they were obviously worrying him. With tender touches, Spencer’s fingers lightly trailed over the side of my face. The brief flashes of clarity alerted him of my struggle, and he let out a shaky breath at the war inside his own mind.
“I want to feel you inside me, and this is the only way.” I concluded, trying to lead him to the simplest conclusion. It was the safest, easiest way to solve both of our current problems. And although I could see how hard the decision was for him, my pleading eventually bested him.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, leaning forward to grab the headboard, staring down at me as I shimmied further up the wood.
“Fuck!” He repeated, rolling his head back with a light groan when both of my hands reached forward to grab his hips. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re so fucking cute.”
A giggle bubbled through my throat, and my body actually bounced in excitement as he slowly positioned himself in front of me. I wasn’t even sure which I was more excited for, my own orgasm or getting to finally give him one again.
As soon as my mouth closed around the head of his dick, I got my answer. Spencer’s moan filled the room, his hands holding so firmly on the headboard that the entire bed creaked. Although I figured he’d been taking care of himself in my absence, it appeared that wasn’t entirely the case. He seemed just as starved as I was.
“Holy shit.” He groaned, dropping a hand to the top of my head. I had to remind myself that he was drunk, which explained why he seemed so much more responsive than normal, with whimpers and pants flowing steadily through his mouth. He only got louder as he began to slowly push himself further into my mouth, stopping every few inches to retreat before pressing further.
“God, I need to do this more often. No back talk, no whining.” He said in a low tone under his breath, beginning to settle on a steady rhythm.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t think of anything except how fucking good it felt to be useful again, to feel him struggling to hold himself back as he started to more aggressively fuck my mouth. My eyes could barely stay open, but I needed them to. I needed to see him in the dim light of the streetlights that peered through the window.
He looked so beautiful, so perfect, and so mine. Feeling him slide back and forth against my tongue revived memories from long before and reignited my longstanding desire to do anything to please him. In all his caretaking, I was worried he might have forgotten how to control me.
But he hadn't. Thank god, he hadn’t.
“Come on, little girl. Earn your fill.” He whispered, burying himself in my throat and holding me against the headboard. I only lightly choked on the intrusion before my body complied, swallowing him further until my lips were pressed against the base of him.
Suddenly, Spencer withdrew, beginning a brutal, dizzying pace. Now, my eyes couldn’t stay open, rolling to the back of my head as I used my hands to steady myself against his thighs. The sobs trying to escape felt more like moans, and they shoved Spencer over the edge he’d been riding in his caution.
“That’s it. Take it.” He barked the instruction, looking down at me and smiling, “Don’t you dare spill any of it, do you hear me?”
My answer was stifled against him, just the way he wanted it to be. And with a few more rough thrusts, Spencer buried himself as deep as possible. I swore my heart synchronized with the pulsing against my tongue as his seed spilled down my throat.
I hollowed my cheeks, trying to drain every last drop from him as he finished. It had its desired effect, and Spencer grabbed my hair and forced himself deeper one more time with a growl. “Good girl.”
Once he had enough, he pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, waiting just a second before clumsily falling onto the bed beside me. I laughed as he hit the pillows, obviously too tired to even reposition himself in the disastrous sheets.
“Thank you, daddy.” I spoke in the silence, gingerly cleaning the spit that had dripped down my chin.
“Fuck.” The curse was muffled in the pillow, but I understood it well enough. He seemed more concerned when I started to sink down into the sheets again, reaching a tentative hand out to him.
Finally rolling over, he grabbed my arm and guided me closer. “Come here.” He said with the tenderness I’d grown used to over the past few months. He turned towards me, apparently not ready for me to sleep on my side just yet.
He brushed my hair from my face, lifting the sheets to look at the now mostly healed wound. I hated it when he looked at it. It just reminded me that I’d never be the same girl he first met. Every time he saw it, he would remember that day. I didn’t want to think about it.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
But even with the insecurity and anger in my gut, I wasn’t lying when I answered. “No, I’m fine.” My heart was so full, my body relaxing for the first time in so long. I was just so unbelievably happy to be together again. Even if it wasn’t like last time, it was still just as wonderful.
“I’m a little better than fine, actually.” I admitted with a bright smile.
Spencer hummed something in thought, but then winced. “Do me a favor.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes and wiping a heavy hand over his face.
“Anything.”
“Kick my ass in the morning.”
He was caught off guard by my response, which was a full-hearted laugh that was too loud for how close the two of were. But I couldn’t help it, it was just so Spencer to still be punishing himself despite the fact that nothing bad had happened.
Once I calmed down enough to talk, I turned to him with a devilish grin. “I don’t wanna.”
Then were both laughing, and Spencer pulled me close to him until he could rest his chin on the top of my head, curling up against my side. “Spoiled brat.” He whined, running his hand through my hair and down my arm.
When I smelled the whiskey on his breath, the guilt hit me just as hard as any of the pleasure. I'd been so excited to get to experience this with him again, I almost forgot the reason he didn’t want to do it in the first place.
He just didn’t want to hurt me. He just wanted to make me happy.
“I just wanted to be with you again... I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” I whispered, pulling the covers up so that I could hide my shame beneath them.
“I wanted to be with you, too.” He reassured me, half asleep and barely able to talk but wanting to get the words out. “I know it’s important to you, but I need you to know I would be with you even if I never got to touch you again.”
“Please never stop touching me.” I quickly replied, a genuine worry in my eyes.
But when Spencer glanced over, he just laughed, “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
“No? Even when I get pregnant and have a big ol’ belly?” I playfully answered, bringing his hand to my stomach and pressing it against the side that still remained intact.
The familiar position caused a shift in Spencer’s body language, and suddenly he was even more insistent on being impossibly closer. “You’ll still be irresistible to me.” He said against my hair, running his fingers lightly over the unmarked skin of my lower stomach.
“We’ll see, I guess.” I mumbled, not realizing that I said it aloud until I heard his confused reply.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” The defensiveness in my voice was terrifyingly transparent, and I hoped that if his drinking made him forget anything, it would be this conversation. “Go to sleep, drunk ass.”
“I need hugs and kisses first.” He complained, rubbing his nose against me in a way that should have been irritating instead of adorable.
“Spoiled.” I grumbled, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. I turned to kiss his cheek through the smile that was plastered over my cheeks.
Already half snoring in his sleepy state, he got out one more cringe worthy joke before he succumbed to his exhaustion. “What’s good for the goose...”
“...is good for the gander.” I finished for him, before taking the advice and following him to sleep.
—————————————————
| Part 18 |
#h2m#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid smut#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds smut#reid series#spencer reid series#spence reid#dr spencer reid#smut#angst#reid request#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#my gif
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@stephanieromanoff asked:
Hey! Could you write something like Natasha’s always thought she was straight but then reader joins the team and now she’s started questiong her sexuality? Fluff pls!
I wasn’t sure how exactly you wanted this to go but I did my best, hope I did your request justice lovely!! also, i noticed @thedevilwearsbeskar wrote something for a similar prompt and I’m sure theirs is better lol (haven’t read it yet so I could write this one first). gorgeous divider is by @whimsicalrogers, italics are for thoughts. Enjoy!
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: some curse words, apart from that it’s all fluff🥰
You were standing in front of all of your heroes – the Avengers. Your heart was racing, but the smile on your face didn't falter once as you introduced yourself warmly to your new team.
When you were asked to join the Avengers, your first thought was that this must be some kind of prank. No one, not even your closest friends, knew of your secret life, the powers you kept secret from everyone in your life to keep them out of harm's way. But apparently, Tony Stark is ever the know-it-all.
You were in the middle of stopping a robbery when suddenly, the big red flying suit bolted in, and you knew you were caught red-handed by the man himself.
So now here you were, standing in a briefing room in the Avengers tower, telling the other Avengers, your new teammates, how excited you were to work with them.
As you let your eyes pass each of their faces, you found nothing but warm smiles and welcoming nods. Well, except Black Widow, Natasha – her expression was utterly unreadable.
Thinking about how pretty girls are is normal, right? Like, everyone does that.
That pretty much summed up Natasha's mindset throughout her life.
Being trained in the red room meant being trained to seduce men. Natasha never questioned her ability to do that. She was good at it, the bowing of the head, the sultry looks, the bite of a lip and they were pretty much done for. To Natasha, these pompous men were easy, simple. That's what made her so dangerous for them.
Girls have always been more of a puzzle, and she included herself in this. But it's never once been a puzzle she'd been requested to solve, so she didn't. Do what you're told, and you'll survive.
It doesn't mean it was a puzzle she didn't want to solve, from time to time.
Natasha trained with girls, trained by girls. And sure, every once in a while, she'd check out a girl's ass as she passed by, or caught herself staring at another girl's lips for too long, but that was just… professional interest, you know? They were all made to look appealing, to draw you in. So, it was only normal it would work on her as well, it meant they were doing their job.
When Natasha left the red room and joined the Avengers, she didn't have much time to date, or think about dating, anyone. She simply didn't think about it.
But now you were standing in front of her, and Natasha Romanoff was absolutely captivated. The way you oh-so-elegantly held yourself, the smile gracing your beautiful lips, the glint of it reaching your eyes, illuminating them. You were stunning.
After the meeting was over, Natasha needed some time to think, so she opted to leave the room after greeting you as minimally as possible, for now.
She went to do what she knows would allow her to think best – go punch the shit outta some stuff.
Entering the training room, she rolled her neck a little, getting into position, and starting to throw hard, precise punches at the punching bag, letting her mind wander where it needed to go.
She remembered one training session, a long time ago. Her opponent was a girl about her age, Valerie. Natasha was confident she could beat her, since Valerie was known to be not the best at face-to-face combat, and Natasha was great at it.
Natasha had the upper hand the entire time, just as she expected. She had Valerie pinned under her, still writhing and not giving up, but Natasha was sure it was a matter of seconds, until—
Natasha looked at her, really looked. Her tousled hair, her wide eyes, the breath escaping in short spurts between her lips. And that was just enough time to allow Valerie to get out of Natasha's grip, flip them over and win the fight, just like that.
To her friends, she said she let her win because she pitied her. To herself, she said she slipped because she got too cocky.
She wasn't so sure of either of these answers anymore.
Seeing you knocked the breath out of her, your outside beauty reflecting your warm, courageous personality, reflected from both the stories of your acts of heroism and the way you told them. You were what it took to make her start connecting some dots.
Natasha was no stranger to the internet and it’s weird and wacky sides, but googling was clearly not going to solve her current problem. She spent hours browsing over the last few days, looking for a clear answer. The conclusion she arrived at – she is the only one capable of providing herself with such a thing.
She did talk to you a few times, but she didn't see you a lot, since you had your hands full getting familiar with the compound and she had her hands full with… well, trying to figure out who she wanted her hands full with.
She made her way to the kitchen to grab a snack – because if nothing makes sense, at least she has food. Making her way through the door, she froze at the sight of you and Tony, laughing and clearly in the midst of a discussion. Well, more at the sight of you, Tony was just kind of there.
"They were all so great, Tony! I was really nervous about meeting them all, but they're all so nice!" your voice rang clear in her ears. Her spy instincts kicked in, and she silently leaned next to the door on the outside, shamelessly eavesdropping.
"Nice doesn't matter," Tony answered matter-of-factly, "Who was the hottest? And there is a correct answer to this, so tread carefully."
Clearly you and Tony quickly became good friends, Natasha thought. The sound of your laughter rang through the room, making her smile without even realizing it.
"Well, I know what you want to hear, but I'm sorry, there actually is a correct answer to it, and it's definitely Natasha."
She could faintly hear Tony gasping in mock hurt, but her racing thought drowned it out. Maybe it was just a friendly compliment, she rationalized, tuning back into your conversation in time to hear you say:
"Seriously! Do the Avengers have a non-dating policy or something? Cause if we do, I am very tempted to break it," you chuckled.
Okay, so maybe not a friendly compliment… a blush crept onto Natasha's cheeks.
"We don’t, but good luck with that one, Romanoff's never gonna –"
"Never gonna what?" Natasha barged in impulsively, knowing whatever Tony was going to say about her probably wasn't going to be good.
"Never gonna let me take you out," you smirked.
"Well, it's your funeral," he told you, and picked up a donut from the counter, "I'm just gonna grab this… there you go, please don't destroy the kitchen," he said, leaving abruptly.
"So, will you let me take you out?" you asked Natasha once more once he left, a smile on your lips.
"Like, take me out with a gun? Unlikely," Natasha shrugged, "But to dinner… we'll see about that," she smiled, and your grin widened in response.
"But I should probably tell you something first…" Natasha hesitated. Normally, she would never do such a thing. But right now, she knew you were going to work together, and your dynamic needed to stay a good one. She couldn't fuck this up. "I'm not… a hundred percent sure I like girls," Natasha hurriedly said and then swallowed. "I, uh, never really thought about going out with girls before," she shrugged, "but I do know I'd love to go out with you," she smiled.
"That's okay," you said, and after thinking for a moment you added, "If you want some more time to think about it, that's really cool too. If not... I wouldn't mind figuring things out with you," you smiled.
"Thanks," Natasha smiled. "So, think we should destroy this kitchen? For good measure," she raised her eyebrow.
"Absolutely," you agreed, and before she could react you grabbed another donut off of the counter and shoved it in her face, the glazing smearing over her as she called out in surprise. She wiped the glazing from her eyes and glared at you while you burst into laughter.
"I hope you know this means war," she said, her tone threatening yet her lips still smiling, tongue darting out to lick the glazing.
"Bring it!"
I hope you liked it!! <3
Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000
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#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female!reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x avenger!reader#black widow x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff fluff
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I won't say I'm in love + Suit Saeran and in Suit Saeran's POV!??? I MEANNNNN??? And like the other believers singing the part of the muses??? YES? 😌 I love this prompt and this sounds sooo fun 😆
YES YES YES I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS AND THE BELIEVERS?! YESSSSSSSSSSS
Also a Jumin version is also incoming since two people asked for it hehe, but I just COULD NOT HELP BUT WRITE THIS ONE FIRST NANSSBBS ITS SO CUTEEE
Also I had a lot lf fun until the last part where I was editing and tumblr actually went fuck you and deleted everything so thanks for that
(also if someone idk wants to draw this or whatever hehe please tell me bc I will actually sell my soul to you.) I will try and uh draw a bit but as yall now, middle hands I don't rest know how to so PFT
Prompt from: give me a mm character and a song
I won't say I'm in love (Saeran x Fem!MC)
Song: I won't say I'm in love (Caleb Hyles)
"And don't you forget that you stupid toy." Saeran said, as he closed the door with a bang. "You all know the rules. Don't you dare touch my toy, and don't let anyone else come in here am I clear?" He told the believers, who stiffened and stuttered, "Yes Mr. Ra- Sorry, sorry! Mr. Saeran...."
Saeran scoffed at the believers but decided to go easy on them this time. After all, today he was in a pretty good mood thanks to his toy.
Or well, at least that what he thought before stopping in the middle of his tracks. Today he wasn't really able to see that scared, helpless look on her face. It was the exact opposite, today she was resilient, and actually fought back, and although he had to admit he liked the fiesty act at first, now it was getting really annoying. I mean, at this point she should be begging on her knees, asking him to please have mercy, that she love-
Wait.
Love??
Saeran's eyes widened as he realized what he has just imagined. He didn't want to hear her telling him how much she loved him. That she needed him, yes, the she was going to do whatever he wanted too, but that she loved him??
He didn't want anyone to love him. Angrily, screaming at himself (or well, at Ray, he had come to the conclusion that it was all that marshmallow's fault) he walked over to the garden. Nothing made him feel better than picking up flowers he knew Ray loved, and then destroying them immediately. It was a hobby of his to be honest.
As he walked through the beautiful garden, he had a mental conversation with himself, mostly about what he thought about....her.
Love....why would he want her to love him? It just didn't make any sense. Just why?
Because you love her.
A voice said, and Saeran immediately turned around, trying to find the idiot who said such a blatant lie.
Love her?
Love her?
In typical Saeran fashion, he scoffed and then tried to come up with a whole list of why his toy wasn't even worthy of his affection. Yet....when he tried to do it....his mind couldn't come up with anything.
Oh.
Oooh.
Oh fuck no.
Saeran ran a hand through his hair and sat on the nearby fountain. He noticed that it was right in front of her room, which still seemed to have the lights on.
Seriously what's that idiot doing awake still....and hey, why do I care?! Seriously, that airhead Ray might've fallen for her, but I'm definetly not going to follow the same path as that dumbass.
He sighed.
"Seriously....If there's a prize for rotten judgement....I guess I've already won that.
No girl is worth the aggravation
That's ancient history, been there, done that." He groaned as he buried his face in his hands and-
"Who d'you think you're kidding
She's the earth and heaven to you."
"HUH?!" Saeran quickly looked up, only to find....the gardener tending to the plants. Hm, the lack of sleep must be making him hear, and especially think, crazy things. He sighed and went back to placing his head on his hands but then-
"Try to keep it hidden,
Honey we can see right through you
Boy you can't conceal it
We know how you're feeling
Who you thiiiinking of!"
Saeran immediately stood up and looked around the garden once again. "Oi whoever is in here, you have three seconds to run before I go and rip your head off."
Silence.
Fucking finally. He thought, as he took a deep breath in and tried to go back into his mediative state.
He turned around to sit back on the corner of the fountain, when a believer appeared out of nowhere.
"The hell are you-" Saeran started, but the believed walked over to him with one finger in the air.
"Aghhhhhh" he said as he stopped in front of him. "Saeran....my boy....you're in love."
"WHAT!? NO WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, AND WHY ARE YOU EVEN- WHO DO YOU- I-' he stuttered, when anither believer came out of the bushes and placed a hand on Saeran's shoulder.
"Aw baby boy, why don't you just go and admit it?"
Another believer appeared from the other side and sighed dreamily. "It's a beautiful thing, so you shouldn't be afraid." The believer said, with a very high pitched voice.
"WHY ARE YOU-HUH!?"
"Love is a beautiful thing Saeran." Saeran heard a deep voice say in front of him, and he almost punched the believer in the face as he came out of the fountain, yes, wet robes and all.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!?" Saeram screamed, but the believers (?) Only laughed and then proceeded to get together and strike a really weird group pose.
"We are...YOUR OWN PERSONAL MUSES! AND WE WON'T LEAVE, UNTIL YOU FINALLY REALIZE THE TRUTH!" They all said.
Saeran, who was now pretty annoyed because of the self proclaimed 'muses' and also because he forgot to bring his gun so now he had nothing to threaten them with and let out his anger and insecurities, glared at the group of people and crossed his arms.
"And what is this so called truth?" He asked. The muses smiled even more
"THAT YOU ARE IN.....LOVE!!!!"
Saeran swore he could see confetti suddenly fall from the sky and he let out a sarcastic chuckle.
"Yeah right. With who? MC? Please. I'd never be in love with her."
"But you are!" One of the muses said.
"Just admit Saeran!" Another one chipped in.
He was taken aback for a minute before he went back to giving them muses a deal glare. "I'm not admiting anything. This is stupid seriously, just go away."
"No! We won't! Until you say that you're in LOVE!* The deep voiced muse said and Saedan raised an eyebrow.
"What me?! Seriously?! In love? Please. I'm leaving if you're not, I'm not dealing with this bullshit."
Saedan quickly walked over to another side of the garden, when suddenly the muses appeared in front of him. He turned around, only to find the muses once again.
Everywhere he went, he saw them, and everytime his patience kept running thinner and thinner.
"JUST SAY YOU'RE IN LOVE SAERAN!"
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, stomping his foot.
"NO! No chance no way I won't say it, no...no!" He shook his head side to side and glared.
The muses groaned. "You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Oh oh."
Saeran blushed. "B-because, it's too cliche! I won't say I'm in love!" He angrily walked over to a bush and glared at the flowers as if that would suddenly help him get rid of his problems. (It was a bush of forget me not's, one of Ray's favorite, ironically it seemed that's where his body took him, probably out of instinct.)
Angrily, he took one out and glared at it.
"Ugh...I thought my heart had learned its lesson...It feels so good when you start out. My head is screaming 'Get a grip boy..." He angrily threw the flower on the ground and stepped on it and let out an exasperated sigh. "Unless you're dying to cry your heart out...." He mumbled and then cursed as he saw the muses again.
"UGH BOY YOU CAN'T DENY IT!! Who you are is how you're feeling!"
"I don't even know what that means-! I-WHY ARE YOU SINGING- I DON'T LIKE HER!""
"Baby we're not buying!"
One of them (it also has to be the one that came out of the fountain due to the wet sleeves) poked Saeran's cheek and smirked.
"Hon we saw you hit the ceiling"
Saeran felt himself blush even more, a gasp escaping from his lips.
"Face it like a grown-up, when you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad!"
Saeran groaned as he saw the believersline up in a single file and then proceed to do that dance move where each jumps out one after the other.
"God!! No chance no way I won't say it, no no!!!" Saeran stomped his foot once again and shook his head, like a toddler, and the muses rolled their eyes.
"She's just...she's so annoying. I hate her, I hate her face, her hair, her smile, the way her eyes light up when she talks, or how happy she looked when I showed her the garden..."
One if the muses laughed, bringing Saeran out of his trance.
"Give up, give in, check the grin you're in love!" They teased him, which made Saeran gape at them as if he was very offended.
"This scene won't play I won't say I'm in lo-UGH!!
"We'll do it until you admit you're in love!"
"Leave me alone!" Saeran stomped off towards the other side of the garden and the muses followed.
"You're way off base I won't say it...." The muses glared at him with a skeptical glance and he glared.
"Get off my case I won't say it" he growled and say on a bench near by, crossing his arms with his face all red.
"Boy don't be proud it's okay you're in love."-
.
.
"Mister Saeran...Mister Saeran!"
Suddenly Saeran looked up to see the believer who was gardening before. "You fell asleep on the fountain...shall I get you anything?"
Saeran scoffed and pushed the believer's hand from his shoulder.
"Don't you dare to ever touch me again. Go away, I was just- just- ugh! Leave before I tell the others to prepare another cleansing ceremony."
The believer quickly nodded. "Yes sir, of course! I apologize!!!" He quickly left and Saeran watched as he ran away, and then he sighed.
Suddenly he found himself staring at....her room, and for some reason, he felt a very deep part of him glad that she was finally getting some sleep. Then, his eyes widened and he let out a sardonic laugh.
"Fuck....."
He looked back to the flowers and sighed a small, sad smile on his face. "Well....at least out loud....I won't say I'm in..... love."
The End
BONUS:
Believers: *Looking out from the window at the garden and Saeran.*
Believer N��643: Hey he's been sitting there for a while...
Believer N°262: yeah almost about 2 minutes and 32 seconds....
Believers:.....
Believer N°643: d'you recon we should wake him up?
Believer N°262: and immediately get massacred? Nah man, I have a wife, a kid! You wake him up.
Believer N°643: what no dude I don't want to die, I have dreams!
Believer N°262: *whispering but also yelling* YOU'RE IN A CULT YOU'RE NOT SUPPODED TO HAVE DREAMS WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!?
Believer N°643: THEY'RE IMPORTANT
Believer N°262: WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT!?
Believer N°643:....... *Looks at the camera*
Believer N°262:.....
Believer N°643: Iwsnsssnsnsns
Believer N°262: what?
Believer N° 643: I...I want to start a band! It's...it's a work in progress but Carol and Jimmy have already agreed. It's going to be...it'll be cult based... probably.
Believer N°262: you....YOU STARTED A BAND AND DIDNT TELL ME!?
Believer N°643: IM SORRY
Believer N°262: I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS! WHAT ELSE ARE YOU KEEPING FFOM ME!?
Believer N°643: THE CHILD ISNT YOURS IM SORRY
Believer N°262: THAT- YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO ACTUALLY ANSWE- wait... Bartholomew the Second isn't mine...?
Believer N°643: *slowly shakes his head* ...no
Believer N°262:....dude.
Believer N°643: IT WAS A SATURDAY NIGHT AND YOU KNOW WHAT THE SAVIOUR DOES ON SATURDAY'S, WE HAD WAY YOO MUCH ELIXIR. ALSO IM YOUR FATHER.
Believer N°262: what THE FU-
Announcer: Join us next week in The Cult, it's like The Office but it's actually a cult, made my someone who has been writing for about an hour non-stop and it's actually 1AM in her time zone so she's clearly already loosing her mind, GOOD NIGHT FOLKS
*audience applause*
*The Office theme but cult version starts playing as the credits roll, THE END*
(I'm sorry I don't know what the fuck this is but my fingers just started typing it on their own I'm sorry pffff
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Alejandro || S.M
Pairing: Song Mingi x Reader
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst
⚠ mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of cigarettes, violence, alcohol ⚠
Reblog the fuck out of this one please, it’s a big one. Enjoy xx
ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ x ʟᴀᴅʏ ɢᴀɢᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ || ᴘ3
ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀʟᴇᴊᴀɴᴅʀᴏ ᴍᴠ
You tried so, so hard for everything to be perfect. So why was everything shit!?
Sometimes, when the stress building up became too much you’d find yourself pathetically sitting in the shower, with the warm water running down your back and dripping from your hair while the black mascara stained your cheeks.
But you’d recompose yourself as quickly as you broke down. You had to maintain the pretty smile and the perfect front for all of the outsiders. You were ashamed, you didn’t want people to know about your situation, you dreaded that someday someone would understand the unbelievable amount of control going on inside those walls.
There was no love anymore. Unbeknownst to you, the romance would be gone the second he’d promised you his life.
Your husband had never gone as far as to hit you, but there were days that you felt as if it couldn’t get any worse. You were trapped and there was no sight of an escape.
The two of you were part of a very conservative community, therefore a divorce would only serve to put you under a bad light in everyone’s eyes, so you just stayed quiet and endured it, hoping that something would go well for you.
And it was a simple, stupid incident that set you on the road to freedom.
It was in your brother in law’s wedding.
Your head rested on your first while your index finger traced the curves of your fourth martini’s cup. You were beyond bored: the music was mostly slow and ballad-like, and unlike all of the other young girls or old ladies you didn’t feel like dancing with your ‘sweetheart’.
Alcohol-fueled tears brimmed in your eyes as you thought about your current situation, and how unfair it was, but before any of them could be spilled, someone spoke to you.
“You’re either too drunk or not drunk enough.”
Your gaze lifted to look at the tall man leaning against the bar’s counter. He had blonde hair (obviously not his natural colour) and shaved sides, which you thought was unusual, at least in a place like that.
“Somehow, both…” You told him with a sigh.
His deep voice was more noticeable when he chuckled. He sat down in the velvet stool next to yours and signaled the waiter to bring in two of whatever you were having.
You eyed him curiously. You could see some colour underneath the thin, white dress shirt. You couldn’t help but become curious about it.
“Do my arms pique your interest?” He asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow at you once he realized you were staring.
You cocked your head and looked him in the eye.
“I was just wondering what the colours were.”
The male quickly put his drink down to roll up his sleeves so he could proudly display his colourful, tattooed arms. He turned both of them so you could fully see the artwork, and you were truly mesmerized.
Just as you were about to comment on how beautiful they were, the groom came running in and pulled down the man’s sleeves to cover up the pretty drawings.
“Mingi you fucking idiot I told you not to show these. My mom already hates you enough!” The groom whisper-yelled, through gritted teeth as he smacked the back of you companion’s head.
Mingi raised his arms in defeat.
“I’m sorry man, I’ll keep them hidden.” He said jokingly.
The groom walked away as he signaled to Mingi that ‘he was watching him’. You laughed and took another sip of the drink he had kindly ordered for you.
“His mom hates you? Wow, you must be a nightmare…”
Mingi laughed and brushed his hair back with his hand.
Hot.
“Yeah… She kinda caught me smoking and she’s been trying to push us apart every since then.”
“Oh, a bad boy then?”
You winked at him playfully and laughed. After both of your laughs died down Mingi sucked in a breath and placed his hand high on your thigh. He leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“Are you into that?”
A weird yet pleasing sensation spread through your body, and an unwanted blush appeared in your cheeks.
He sat back where he was and brought his drink to his very appetizing lips once more, while locking his gaze with yours.
You snapped back to reality quickly. You raised your hand, showing the meaningless yet very real, gold wedding ring. You shrugged and gave him an apologetic look.
Mingi rolled his eyes and scoffed (much to your confusion).
“As if you’re content with your marriage.”
You looked at him, offended, as you couldn’t believe the nerve he had. You crossed your arms in front of your chest.
“And what could possibly lead you to that conclusion?” You asked, indignant.
Mingi smirked.
“Well, for starters, the love of your life left you by yourself in a bar while every other couple is being corny on the dance floor, second, because if you weren’t the slightest bit interested in me you would’ve already left, and last but definitely not least,” Mingi leaned dangerously close, so you could hear his victorious whisper “if you were really happy with him you would’ve swatted my hand away the second it laid on your thigh.”
You suddenly became very aware of his touch, and his fingers burned on your skin. You stood up abruptly and walked quickly towards the exit. You felt like the air was choking you and you needed some air.
Before you could walk very further, Mingi gripped your wrist for a second.
“The tattoo parlor in front of the mall, find me there.”
And just like that, he let you go.
“You fucking bitch! You’re so goddamn worthless! I swear to God the only reason why I don’t kill you is because I don’t want to go to jail over something as useless as you.”
You snapped. It had finally become too much to take on all by yourself. The shock and fright you felt prevented you from crying, or from doing anything really. You just stood in the middle of the living room, staring at him wide-eyed and frozen, not sure of what to do.
You were only able to turn around and start running when your husband stepped towards you. The fear enveloping you pushed you to turn around and run out of the house to the only destination you trusted: the tattoo shop.
How sad was it that the person you trusted the most was someone you had spoken to once?
Life isn’t always kind…
Your legs almost went numb from all the running, and the cold air hitting your face felt as if it was slicing your skin. When you eventually spotted the red, neon open sign shining in the dark street you stopped.
Was this even a good idea?
You were way past caring when you hurriedly pushed the heavy door open and entering the shop.
The little wind chimes hanging right beside the door announced your arrival.
“I’m sorry, but we’re closed now if you’d like you can return tomorrow at 9am.” The familiar, deep voice warned.
You were a little unsure of what to say. Fuck, what could you say? What, in this situation, would be acceptable to say?
“Mingi?” You called, simple and straightforward.
His blonde head quickly peeked from the back of the store. He revealed his whole body as he walked towards you.
“Wow, I didn’t actually expect you to show up, if I’m being honest I-”
You shut him off by standing on your tippy-toes and pulling him down to kiss you. It was a very rough and sudden kiss, and to say you were just as shocked as Mingi about your behavior was no understatement.
When you pulled away Mingi’s hands rested on your hips. You two shared the most intense staring contest as your faces were just mere centimeters apart.
“Please…” You begged “I just need to feel something.”
The man immediately kissed you, as if he was in a hurry, as if he’d lose you if he didn’t do it right then and there. It started slow and passionate, moving to a much rough pace soon after.
The kiss was messy and sloppy, a type of kiss that you had just found out you loved.
“That’s all you needed to say, doll.” Mingi told you as he caressed your cheek, once you pulled away for air.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him.
Mingi hit a button on the wall that turned off the big, shiny sign outside. He grabbed your hand and lead you to a small room in the back. It only had a red couch, a mini-fridge, a microwave and a dark-wood coffee table with a pack of cigarettes and a silver ashtray on top of it. The room reeked of smoke, but that surely wouldn’t be your focus.
When the door clicked behind the two of you, he pushed you against it. His hands roamed all over your body, hungry for every curve, as his lips worked on your neck.
You felt embarrassed at how quickly he got you moaning. All it took were a couple bites and a cheeky whimper had already left your mouth.
You slapped a hand over your mouth when his large hand found its way inside your underwear, but he was quick to remove it. He pecked your lips sweetly.
“Oh no doll, I wanna hear every little moan that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours, okay?”
He caressed your lower lip with his thumb, and all you could do was comply with his request. Mingi picked you up bridal style and threw you on the beat-up, surprisingly comfortable couch.
His lips devoured yours hungrily as he desperately undid your jeans. Mingi’s hair was messy from the way your fingers played with it, but you two were far from caring about appearances, you were too absorbed in each other’s moans to pay attention to it.
Mingi gripped the waistband of your jeans and pulled them down roughly. Your underwear came off right after, and you watched as he threw them somewhere in the room as he worked in undoing his sweatpants.
He noticed the way you closed your legs slightly, a little embarrassed about the situation. Mingi smiled softly and spread you with one of his hands.
The male leaned down and kissed the spot just below your ear.
“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
You blushed at the comment, more than you already were, and pushed away the thought that Mingi had made you feel more like a woman in twenty minutes than your husband had in your whole marriage.
Mingi lined up his cock with your entrance and waited for your consent. You gripped the cushions in anticipation, and nodded.
Once he had the green card, Mingi bottomed inside of you, and moved slowly. When your face started twisting with pleasure, Mingi sped up. He hovered over you, each hand on the sides of your head, accentuating how much bigger he was than you, how tiny and secure he made you feel.
He lost control over his body, and he could no longer regulate the way he thrust into you. It was wild and violent, something you’d never experienced before, something you now loved.
You gripped Mingi’s shoulder, leaving clear nail marks on him (but little did you know he loved them), as you moaned and whimpered underneath him.
“F-fuck I think I’m gonna cum Mingi-”
The way you said his name made his cock twitch inside of you, and he nearly came, but Mingi was focused on making you cum first.
He bit on your neck once more, carefully as to not leave any noticeable marks, and the mix of feelings combined the desperation you felt made you climax, and you didn’t hold back in the way you moaned his name as you walls tightened around his member.
Mingi immediately pulled out, releasing all over your stomach and inner thighs in the process.
You both didn’t move for a second, both trying to catch your breaths. And although it never took Mingi too long to regain his energy, he surely was enjoying the work of art in front of him.
From that night on, you had to pretend you were miserable. You had to hide your joy and glee from your husband so he wouldn’t catch onto your unbelievable happiness.
Mingi treated you like he only had eyes for you. He treated you like you were the only one in the world. He treated you like a human, he respected you. That’s all you could ask for in a man, and so your little tattoo shop visits became longer, and more often. It became hard to hide, but every bit of it was worth it.
You’d often find yourself smiling, at the thought of Mingi’s silly jokes or crazy antics that never failed to amuse you, and you’d been caught once or twice by your husband, but it was never anything significant for him to suspect something else.
Everything almost went down the drain when you and Mingi ran into each other in a café, justly when you went out with your husband. You tried to avoid him, because you were sure he wouldn’t remember how your ‘significant other’ worked, but it was no good.
The second he laid eyes on you, a wide smile spread across his face, and suddenly it was as if the sun was shining inside the café.
You wanted to run into his arms and kiss him as a hello, but you couldn’t. You maintained a serious expression and shook your head negatively, but it was no use.
“Y/N! Hi!” The man greeted you.
You immediately panicked, as the grip your husband had on you tightened.
“Y/N, baby” the nickname didn’t sit well when he said it “who is this?”
Although his voice was sweet in front of strangers, you could sense the undertone.
You rummaged through your head, trying to find a passable excuse.
“Well, Mingi was at your brother’s wedding and he approached me because he needed some legal advice concerning his shop.”
Mingi was a little confused, but he went ahead and fed the lie.
“Oh, well then I’ll let you discuss that while I go wash my hands, Y/N find us a table.”
He never said please…
You waited for him to be in an acceptable distance so you could comfortably talk to Mingi.
“Don’t call my name, Mingi!”
“What!? Why?”
You held the bridge of your nose between your index finger and your thumb.
“Listen-” you looked towards the bathroom door, and your husband was coming back “I’ll explain later tonight, okay?”
Mingi was visibly upset, but still agreed.
The clock on the wall ticked slower when Mingi waited for you, or so it seemed. A minute without you felt like an hour for him, he was absolutely head over heels for you, and most of the time of your face and your laugh was all that was present in his head.
You were just intoxicating.
When the wind chimes echoed through the shop, Mingi immediately peeled his body from the couch and went to meet you.
You both shyly smiled at each other, as if you were two teenagers in love for the first time.
Mingi grabbed your hips and brought you forward, pressing your lips together softly.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
They weren’t dry hello’s, no, but bashful ones instead.
You gripped onto his biceps and bit your lip, unsure of the correct way to approach him about it.
“Mingi, listen, you have to pretend you don’t know me in public…”
He furrowed his eyebrows together and cocked his head.
“What?”
You sighed, a little sad about having to explain the motives behind your request.
“We have to pretend to be strangers in public Mingi, you know how my husband gets and-”
“Then leave him! I don’t understand!”
You didn’t like the way he cut you off, to say the dumbest thing of all, on top of that.
“Do you think I wouldn’t have already if I could!? What would I do then!?”
“Live with me! Come with me! We still have our whole lives ahead os us Y/N! I love you and it hurts seeing you being mistreated yet still settling for it!” He yelled, gripping onto you as if he was afraid you were slipping away.
“I know that we are young and I know that you may love me, but I can’t live like this anymore Mingi, I have a life already built, I have a job and if I leave him everything will change and I will-”
Mingi shut you up with a kiss.
“And what, Y/N? Are you like them? Are you like those stuck up motherfuckers that side-eye me because I dye my hair and wear leather jackets, hm? Do you want to have a nine to five job, have kids, be stuck in a marriage and then die knowing that the most fun thing you ever did in your life was fool around with a tattoo artist for a couple of weeks!?” He exclaimed, visibly frustrated, as he stepped away from you.
“I want a secure life! I want the guarantee that tomorrow I’m not gonna starve! And if that means that I’m just like my parents then maybe I am!”
“Y/N you know damn well why you’re not like all of these people! Why won’t you let me have you!? Is it because I live in a flat, not a house? It is because I buy my clothes on Primark, not Tommy Hilfiger!? Is it because I have a bike instead of a car!?”
“It’s because I don’t fucking know what to do! The life I live is miserable but at least I know that I’m not gonna be struggling tomorrow…”
There was a long silence. A long, heavy silence. Mingi placed his hands on his hips and huffed. He looked around for a second, before laying his eyes on you again. It was like talking to a wall, he couldn’t understand how comfort won over happiness, and it stressed him out.
“Give me one reason, one good reason, that’ll make me walk out that door with no regrets of leaving you.” He said, pointing at the glass exit.
You looked at him. There was no reason. There was absolutely no reason as to why you should stay in that place. A comfortable life didn’t compensate for the fact that you had been threatened and mistreated almost every day.
Upon hearing your silence, Mingi stepped towards you and cupped your face, making you look at him.
“Exactly, you can’t, this plave isn’t for us. Run away with me Y/N, let’s leave, I promise I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life…”
You didn’t know if it was the rush, the adrenaline, the glisten in his eyes or the sheer adoration you felt for him, but you kissed his lips, and grabbed the extra helmet for his bike, with no further questions.
“Next you need to let me tattoo you.” He said, as you two got on the bike with whatever you had in your pockets.
You chuckled, encircling his waist with your arms.
“In your dreams, big boy.”
“I’m already living my dreams.”
#song#song mingi#mingi#mingi smut#song mingi smut#mingi reader#mingi x reader#mingi x reader smut#ateez#ateez smut#ateez mingi#ateez mingi smut#mingi ateez#ateez reader smut#ateez mingi reader smut#mingixreader smut#ateez scenario#ateez scenarios#ateez smut scenario#ateez smut scenarios#kpop girls#kpop smut#kpop scenario#kpop scenarios#kpop smut scenario#mingi smut scenario#mingi smut scenarios#mingi imagine#mingi imagines
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Lucidity (7)
☼ Pairing: BTS x reader (no pairing this chapter)
☼ Genre: vampire!BTS, succubus!reader, smut, fluff, angst
☼ Count: 4K
☼ Warnings: mentions of death (minor character), mentions of past trauma, blood, violence (there’s a physical fight at the end), depictions of injuries
☼ Summary: You’ve spent years jumping from country to country, starting countless new lives. Crafting new lives is as easy as breathing for you, lies flowing easily and people are charmed with a simple bat of your eyes. When you meet a witch who offers the idea of opening a supernatural club, using your powers combined with hers to ensure safety to those who enter, you decide to join her in an adventure that is entirely new to you. But your new life in Seoul is drastically changed when you’re forced to face something you’ve spent centuries hiding from. But just because you might be running for your life again doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun along the way, right?
☼ a/n: I’m sorry, this is like, all angst but with all different people lmao but we getting to some truths 👀👀 But is it the whole truth? 🤔🤔 As always, let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙
Yoongi has only just sat back in his chair for a moment when there’s a knock at the door. He wants to laugh that you’ve already had to come back, probably just because you forgot something but he’s definitely going to take the opportunity to tease you about it. He stands and makes his way to the door, tugging it open with a grin and a quip about you missing his cock already on the tip of his tongue, a remark that very quickly dies before it can even leave his mouth. The smile quickly drops from his face when instead of you, he’s met with Hoseok.
He swallows, something like dread settling in his belly. He thinks he manages a weak smile. “Oh, hey Hobi. What’s up?”
Hoseok frowns, eyes searching Yoongi’s face. Yoongi’s not sure what he’s looking for but it seems like he doesn’t find it. Instead, he pushes past Yoongi and into the studio, nose wrinkling as he does so, it probably reeks of sex. He gives Yoongi a look that’s full of accusation.
“Why?”
Yoongi flounders, he wonders if he could claim it was someone else. Hoseok would see through that lie. How much did Hoseok hear? See? “Why what?”
“Don’t play dumb Yoongi. I saw her leaving.” He looks so hurt, like this was a personal slight against him. “You claim to be Namjoon’s best friend. And yet here you are, fucking the one person, the only person ever, that he’s told us to stay away from. Why would you do this to him?”
Yoongi feels indignation rise in him at the accusation that he’s somehow betrayed Namjoon. This is nothing like betrayal, this is just… working with the information at his disposal. “Excuse me? Whatever Namjoon’s issue with her is, is entirely his problem. If she were a serious threat, she would’ve been dealt with by someone already. You don’t get to live for centuries being a shitty person who puts our existences at risk.”
“That’s bullshit and weak and you know it. Namjoon’s problem with her is all of our problems with her. We’re together for a reason. We’re a family.”
“If that’s true then why won’t he tell us what she did, huh? Don’t you think it’s weird that he won’t say anything about it? Namjoon’s never held information from us like this before.”
Hoseok sighs. “You know he has his reasons-”
“Yeah, reasons that he won’t share!”
Hoseok blinks at Yoongi’s outburst and Yoongi looks just as surprised. He doesn’t understand why he’s getting so worked up, but something about this whole situation digs under his skin.
“Are you seriously defending her over Namjoon?” Hoseok asks incredulously, like that’s the only conclusion to draw from his behavior.
Yoongi’s jaw works. “I’m not defending anyone. I’m simply pointing out the flaws in this blind belief in him. We’ve been around long enough to be able to think for ourselves. We’re not children. Not by a long shot anymore.”
Hoseok shakes his head in disappointment and pulls his phone out. “I’m sorry Yoongi, but I’ve got to tell him.”
Yoongi feels panicked as he stares at Hoseok’s phone. He wasn’t sure who he was more worried for, you or himself. “Hobi, please. Don’t do that.”
Hoseok hesitates for a few moments, something unreadable crossing his face before he’s pressing Namjoon’s contact name. “I’m sorry Yoongi.” He says as he walks out.
Nothing happens for a couple of days after that. Yoongi’s on edge the whole time. He tried to hole up in his studio but your scent lingered and it made his chest ache that he could possibly be putting you in danger. When Namjoon finally arrives back home, he calls a meeting. He doesn’t look angry and that sets Yoongi even more on edge, Namjoon’s default setting regarding you seemed to be rage, but right now he seems calm and collected. The others look confused as well, exchanging looks as they all sit around the table and wait for Namjoon to begin. The only time they have meetings in the dining room like this is when they’re having serious talks, but nobody can recall anything major that happened recently. Nothing that would warrant a dining room conversation.
Namjoon stands at the head of the table, waiting as Hoseok finally enters, the last to arrive. He takes a seat across from Yoongi.
“Thanks for coming home a little early from breaks. Hoseok said that we needed to have an emergency meeting.” A murmur ripples through the boys and Namjoon sits down.
Hoseok stands and Yoongi shoots him a look, trying his best to communicate how bad of an idea this was. Praying his hardest that Hoseok doesn’t do this. Hoseok stares at the table. The others are quiet as they wait for him to speak.
“Yes… Um… I know this will be hard to talk about…” He trails off, looking at Yoongi. Yoongi can see the indecision written across his face, he has no idea what Hoseok might say next. “I think it best benefits the group to know what your problem with that succubus is… with Y/n. Seoul is a big place, but it’s not that big for supernatural folks. We’re bound to run into her at some point. We deserve to know what to look out for so that we can protect ourselves.”
Yoongi only gets a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before the atmosphere of the room plummets. Namjoon’s face turns hard and Hoseok shrinks under his gaze.
“You think you know better than me about what’s best for the group?”
Hoseok doesn’t reply, head ducked like a child being reprimanded so Yoongi speaks for him. It’s the least he can do after Hoseok just covered for him. “Joonie, that’s not what he’s saying at all. He’s just saying that we can be better prepared for anything if we know what we need to look out for.”
Namjoon’s gaze snaps to him but Yoongi doesn’t let him intimidate him. He’s tired of being left in the dark like this. They deserve to know. “All you need to know is that she’s dangerous and you need to stay away.”
Jin pipes up. “That doesn’t tell us anything. In what way is she dangerous? Is it a matter of her using her powers against us? Will she use other people to do her bidding? Joon, if we don’t know, we can’t stop it.”
Yoongi hadn’t expected further support but he’s incredibly grateful for it. He doesn’t think he could’ve gotten through to Namjoon alone. “We just want to help you keep us safe. But you need to keep us informed too.”
The rest voice their agreement. All eyes turn to Namjoon. He looks a little like a cornered animal, like he’s trying to calculate an escape route. His gaze darts around to each of them like if he stares at them enough, they’ll back down. When the tense atmosphere doesn’t shift, Namjoon sighs in defeat.
“Fine. But I’m only going to give you just enough so that you see how dangerous she is. You don’t need to know everything.” Namjoon remains quiet for a long moment, gaze far off. “We knew each other when we were young. Like very young, less than 100. We had… another friend, Jaeho. He was a vampire too. We spent a lot of time together. She…” Namjoon looks like he’s about to cry and Yoongi reaches out to place his hand over Namjoon’s. Namjoon gives him a pained smile. “She drained him. Not enough to kill him, that would’ve been too kind. She drained him just enough to turn him feral. He ran to the nearest village and caused a rampage. The local werewolf clan put him down.”
Namjoon lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s not even the worst fucking part. When I confronted her, she had the audacity to act like it wasn’t her fault. Then she ran. I hadn’t seen her since until we saw her at the cafe.”
The room is silent when Namjoon finishes his story. No one knows what to say, emotions high as everyone tries to pair this version of you with what they personally know. Yoongi swallows, squeezes Namjoon’s hand. He should be the primary focus right now, pained as he is at the relived memories.
“Thank you for telling us, Joon.”
Namjoon shrugs in indifference and pushes himself up. He looks tired. “I hope you see now why I said to stay away. She’ll cause you nothing but pain.” With that he leaves the room.
You regret being at this cafe already. The ominous text from Jin and Yoongi about wanting to meet here was enough to have you on edge. The fact that they messaged you together is further proof that you shouldn’t be here. As far as you knew, they didn’t know that the other was seeing you too. Which means that something made them talk about you. And nothing good seems like it can come from that. Just like how nothing good comes from this place.
Your phone pings and you look down to see a text from Ari.
Ari: Someone just stopped by looking for you again? Said you were supposed to work today?
You frown. No one knew you were working tonight because you didn’t tell anyone. It was only written in the office on the calendar. And even so, you switched with Ari to have this meeting. Even more perplexing is the only people you can think of that would be looking for you there, are the ones who are going to be meeting you here very soon.
Ari: She said she’d catch you some other time.
You’re even more confused by that. Who could possibly be looking for you right now? But your musings of your mystery person are interrupted by the seats around you being pulled out as Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, and Yoongi all take a seat. They all look tense and your heart feels like it’s in your throat.
“Wow, you boys must be pretty desperate if you wanna have a go all together.” You attempt to joke but there’s no reaction. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Right, no jokes then, got it. Well, what did you call me here for if not that?”
“Why did you pull away from us like that?” Jungkook blurts.
Jin smacks his arm. “You idiot, that’s not what we were going for.”
Jungkook glares at him. “I don’t care. I want to know.” He turns back to you, face set in determination. It makes guilt well up in you. “I want to know why. And don’t give me that you needed time shit, we all know that was a lie.”
You don’t think you can do this. You don’t know what they’ve come for, but whatever it is it’ll be painful. Your gaze darts around, looking for a way out.
“Please…” Jungkook’s voice cracks.
“You don’t need to answer that.” Yoongi shoots Jungkook a look when he goes to speak again. “That’s not why we came.”
You chew your lip, alarm bells ringing in your head. “Then why?”
“What happened between you and Namjoon?”
You should’ve known this was coming. It was always bound to happen. There was no way they’d continue when being torn between you and Namjoon. They were bound to get too curious sooner or later. You give a shrug of feigned indifference. “We’ve crossed paths before. You know how it goes sometimes.”
None of them look like they buy it. “But what happened? I’ve never seen Joon act like that with anyone.” Yoongi presses.
“You can’t tell me you’ve never met someone you just didn’t like.” You can feel the panic rising. This isn’t good.
“Yes, but not with him. He sees the best in everybody. Why are you different?” Jimin this time.
You shrug helplessly. “Must’ve caught him on a bad day then.”
“What happened when you were young?” Jin says, then freezes as his own words register.
You stare at him with wide eyes. How did he know when you knew Namjoon? You glance at the others and they’re all giving Jin a dirty look. They knew. They all knew. Namjoon must’ve finally broken down and told them what happened. You blink away tears that are suddenly threatening to spill. You don’t even know why they bothered to want to meet you then. To tell you in person how terrible you are? How they want nothing to do with you and wish they’d listened to Namjoon in the first place? You feel like you're going to be sick.
You stand abruptly, your chair scraps against the concrete but you don’t hear it. You can’t hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. The boys all look concerned. And you can’t stand the thought of seeing their faces morphed with hate the way Namjoon’s was. The way it still is.
You do what you do best, you run.
Your days are rough after that, time blurs together as you try your hardest to keep it together. You hate how much the boys had managed to put themselves into your life, even after you tried to keep them at arm’s length. They slipped in and filled every little crack and crevice and you hadn’t even realized until it was too late. They were too rooted in your life to easily rip out. You hate how lonely you feel without one of them around. You get texts from them every so often. They take turns texting you; they all sit unread. You can’t even imagine what terrible things they might be saying.
Ari has noticed the difference too. You’re at the club more than you used to be, even before you met the boys. But as much as you try to throw yourself into the club atmosphere, the people here just do nothing for you anymore. It’s a poor replacement for Jungkook’s adorable smile, Jin’s laugh, the way Jimin clung to whoever was closest, Yoongi’s quiet way of caring. You sometimes wonder how Yoongi would’ve fit in with the other 3 if they’d all known about each other before. Before you pushed them away. Before Namjoon told them and ruined whatever idea they had of you. It makes your heart ache.
You know you can’t blame him. But after all these years, it still hurts. You’re really not sure what to do. Your apartment is half packed, not that you usually travel with that much anyway. You seriously think moving will be best, but you just can’t force yourself to do it yet. You know Ari is fully capable of running this place though, if you were to go. And you’ve got the money to be able to stop back in when she needs it. Ari’s been dating a siren, she’ll have capable help around after you leave. And you can easily work remotely.
You stare at the wall of your office. You can feel the beat from the main part of the club. The joy it used to bring you feels like acid in your chest. You wish the night would hurry up so you could go home and curl up in Jungkook’s sweater. It doesn’t smell like him anymore but the small amount of comfort it brings is still there. You wish you could tell him that you understand why he wore it on long trips.
You zone out until your closing bartender knocks at the door. You blink at him, a little startled that you don’t hear music anymore. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. He gives you a small smile and holds the cash drawer out to you.
“Everything’s all cleaned up. You just gotta do the drawer.”
You smile as you take it from him. “Thanks, D. You’re free to clock out and head home now.”
He thanks you and leaves. You set about finishing everything up, shutting the lights off and heading for the exit. You’re locking the door when you feel someone else in the small back lot with you. You’d assume it was Namjoon again, the scenario almost identical. Except when you focus a little more, you realize it’s not a vampire with you but a werewolf.
Worse, you know this wolf. You whip around, keys clutched tightly in your hand as you search the shadows for her, heart beating wildly. This can’t be happening. Not now, not again. She doesn’t remain hidden for long, stepping out into the small pool of illumination from the sole light source in the alley lot.
“Y/n. I finally caught you.” Her grin is malicious.
You swallow. “Taria.” You don’t know what else to say. You don’t know why she was here. You thought you were done with her after everything that happened.
She pouts mockingly. “Aw, is that all you’ve got to say to me? We have so much to catch up on don’t you think?” She takes a step towards you and your back slams against the building as you try to keep as much distance between you, trapped. Fear claws at your throat, looks like Namjoon might not have to worry about you for too long. “Like how the fuck you’re still alive.”
Your mind races, dozens of half ideas forming before you discard them. There’s no way you can take her in a fight, you’re strong but werewolves far outpower you and you haven’t fed recently. Your gaze drops to her hands, covered in gloves and tucked into the sleeves of the turtleneck she wears. Fuck, how did she know to cover her skin. You can’t do anything helpful if you can’t touch her skin.
She seems to be reading your assessment, adjusting the glove with a gleeful smirk. “Ah, yes. I know your little tricks, you whore. I’ve had lots of time to plan this out.” She starts walking slowly towards you. “You have no idea how thrilled I was when I heard your name again while visiting a friend here.”
Your gaze darts around the lot, empty and far too late for anyone to happen to pass by right now. You side step, trying to keep some distance between the two of you. She’s effectively trapped you here. She laughs.
“I should’ve finished you off to begin with. Who knew that little fucking vampire would be weak enough to just let you go.” She scoffs in disgust. “But it’s okay. I’m gonna have some fun now.”
You try to come up with a plan. There has to be something you can do. Something you can do to get out of here. Shaking your head, you push the memories of the past away. You can’t afford to think about them and the emotions that threaten to overwhelm you right now; you just need to get out of here. You know you can’t outrun her either.
You’re going to have to fight her, at least a little bit. Enough to either incapacitate her or to get a way to touch her and knock her out. You should’ve taken more self defense classes. You know enough that while you can’t overpower her, you are definitely more agile than her and that will be your biggest strength here if you want to make it out of this. Sudden panic of what she might do to Namjoon for letting you go, for not taking care of her problem like she clearly planned for has you more worried for him than for you. You have to make it out of this. You have to lead her away from the city. If she’s too busy chasing you, then she’ll leave him alone. He’ll be safe.
With the vaguest plan possible, you tuck your keys away, shaking your hands out to prepare for her to make the first move.
She wastes no time, lunging at you and you quickly duck under her arm, using her own momentum to push her face first into the wall you were just standing against. There’s a crunch. You dart a few steps away as she lets out a furious roar. She turns, eyes wild and glowing and blood dripping from her already healed nose. She comes for you again, this time low and you have no hope for dodging as her shoulder slams into your gut, knocking the breath from you as she forces you to the ground.
She rises to her knees above your prone form, fist connecting solidly to your jaw. You squirm beneath her, adrenaline pumping as you scramble for anything that might help as she lands another punch. Your hand finally finds a large chunk of loose concert, ripping it completely free even as the jagged edges tear at the skin of your fingers. You lift it, slamming it to the side of her head with all the supernatural strength you can possibly manage.
She slumps off of you and you don’t even wait for her to fully fall before you’re flipping over and pushing yourself up to run.
You make it two steps before your hair is grabbed and you’re pulled back against her once again. “Aw, you couldn’t possibly have thought it’d be that easy?”
Her other hand reaches up to wrap around your throat and you claw uselessly at her hand as she begins to constrict your breathing. You pull at her shirt, black ringing your vision when you get an idea. You tug frantically at the sleeve, trying to remain coordinated enough to pull her sleeve from her glove and expose the skin of her forearm.
She seems to realize your plan because as soon as the sleeze is tugged free, she throws you to the ground, sending you sliding a few feet away from her. You gasp, trying to regain your breath as you shakily push yourself back to your feet. Your arm and thigh burn where the rough ground scrapped against you. You feel blood trickling down, leaving your side wet and sticky. Your throat feels raw and you can already tell there’s bruises there ringing it. Your cheek feels swollen and there’s something dripping down your cheek and you can’t tell if it’s blood from your skin splitting or tears.
You can’t keep up for too long. Your body is already beginning to use your energy to heal and if you let it get too far then you’ll have no hope of getting away. Taria casually fixes her sleeve, the perfect picture of nonplussed aside from the blood that trickles from her nose and temple. She looks at you with disdain.
You have no choice but move to the offensive. You have to try to do something to get the upper hand, to give you a chance to get away. You rush her. You have no idea what you hope to accomplish with this, but you’re getting desperate and out of ideas. She pushes you away easily, like swatting at a bug, and sends you sprawling onto your back once again. She steps up to you, giving you a good kick to the ribs before she leans over you. She reaches out to choke you again and you’re too tired to do more than feebly grab at her arms.
You cough and gag, blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. You may as well give up. Your energy is basically at its end and she still looks completely unphased. You can’t do anything. Your vision is narrowing and you belatedly realize there is maybe one last thing you could do. Something that might save you, something that she forgot to cover. You steady yourself, gathering all of the power you can in you and quickly reach up to touch her face. She doesn’t seem to realize what’s happening right away but the second she does, it’s already too late. You release all your energy in one big burst and Taria instantly loses consciousness, collapsing on top of you.
You lie there for a moment beneath her, feeling a little delirious that it actually worked. Then panic because you don’t know how long it will work, you were nowhere near powered enough to do it for long. You manage to drag yourself out from beneath her, taking a moment to catch your breath once you’re upright before you’re quickly running away.
#bangtanarmynet#btsguild#kwritersworldnet#thebtstown#magicshopnet#bts x reader#bts vampire au#bts angst#vampire bts#bts au#bts fanfic#lucidity au
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commission 5: otiyr!hoseok
note: for anon who was so kind to help me back in November! I am so sorry this took so long to get out v_v;;; ........... I hope you enjoy ;_;!!!!!
note 2: U kno when person A be like *super tough on the outside AND has no Knowledge of baring themselves to someone AT ALL AND!!!!!! IS SOFT TO ONLY ONE PERSON BECAUSE THEY THINK THEY CAN BARE THEMSELVES TO THEM* and then person B be like *I am the only person they can bare themselves to so I try really hard to get them to come out of their shell ONLY IF THEY WANT TO this is a healthy relationship I like to poke at them sometimes, it’s fine*? Yea this is that but make it more pine-y. Best friends to lovers? It’s more likely than you think!
Coach Park blew the whistle. Obviously this meant that practice had finished, but Hoseok was convinced it’s what called upon the bad omen.
The hockey team’s time at the rink ended right at 3pm. This gave Hoseok exactly ten minutes to shower, three minutes to fend off a nagging Yoongi for practice again the next day, and twenty seconds to realize he had one minute to reject Soojin if he wanted to make it to class on time.
He had no idea how long she’d been there. She sat like a flower, right at the edge of the bleachers, cardigan wrought so tight around her shoulders as if to fend off the tundras. He wondered if she was waiting for Jeongyeon—the figure skaters got the rink for the next three hours now—and that is when he made the fateful mistake of catching Soojin’s eye right when he was about to slip through the exit.
“H-Hoseok!”
First, the freeze-up. Hoseok adjusted his gym bag for the sake of fidgeting; he didn’t even get the chance to pretend he didn’t see her, creep away unnoticed. She’s fast, anyhow, hopping over the bench and standing shy in front of him just as he’s turned around.
“Hey,” she greeted.
Hoseok nodded, only slightly pained. “Needed something?”
Behind her, Hoseok watched Jeongguk coming up, wiggling his eyebrows at him right as he passed by and out the door. Flaunting that exit like it was meant to encourage him to stay just a little longer. Hoseok felt threatened. Soojin took no notice.
“Yeah… it’s—well. How are you?”
“Fine.”
(Soojin most likely had no idea he had class at 3:15.)
“Oh! That’s… good. Well—I don’t want to keep you for long, and I-I know… i-it’s kind of sudden, but. We’ve been talking for a while now and I just—wanted to ask if you wanted to—just—hang out, someday. Like go out, or whatever.”
Ah, Hoseok thought sadly, I’m going to die, right here.
The first response he considered was to refute her claim that they’d been talking for a while—Soojin had offered help with chemistry homework when Jimin wasn’t available for tutoring anymore. He wasn’t aware that discussing the halogenations of alkanes over text qualified as the talking stage. That made him feel weirdly old.
Something else he considered: she was very pretty. He could admit to that. Soojin had eyes like raindrops, small ears with moon-shaped studs. An easy gait except for when she was nervous—and she looked very, very nervous.
Soojin was a nice person. Soojin deserved a nice answer.
“I don’t want to,” he said, which was not a nice answer.
He realized this the second Soojin’s gaze dropped to the floor. It reminded Hoseok of those sparkly cartoon girls, the teardrops that teased, never fell. She wouldn’t cry. No one ever cried for him like that.
“Ah—sure, that’s… fine.”
Hoseok never prided himself for being curt. He was just consistent at saying the wrong things, he remembered you saying, and he had lecture starting in less than a minute. Combine all these together, mix in the inability to read a situation properly, and you got the everlasting unease of being Utterly and Ridiculously Fucked. He felt very pained now.
Hoseok watched Soojin fidget again, shifting her stance. Contemplating that exit Hoseok just wanted to go through.
He was supposed to say something now.
“You can delete my number, if you want. I don’t mind. You don’t need it anymore, right? Since we already handed in that assignment.”
She was quiet. Slowly, Hoseok watched her face transform into what he could only guess was unabated anger. Her nose scrunched.
Then she slapped him.
Hoseok, holding his cheek (which did not ache at all, Soojin wasn’t strong like that), watched her stomp out, shoving the doors open with an animosity he didn’t think she had.
He was most definitely going to be late for class.
.
.
.
The astrophysics study commons is a quaint, aggressive space. There’s posters of Saturn and chalkboard lining the walls with confusing equations scribbled in white and at least five people arguing about velocity in the corner farthest away. This is where people find answers and actually make sense of situations. Hoseok discusses his tragedy here for this exact purpose.
You sit back in your chair, playing with your slide rule. “She text you after?”
“Nope.”
“Did you want me to give my opinion?”
“Sure.”
You slap him.
“What—!” Now Hoseok has had plenty of time to dwell on his follies last night. But a second time? He wonders if he actually deserves good things in his life. He rubs at the poor spot on his cheek. “You didn’t need to resort to violence!”
“You’re so stupid!”
It’s not unlike you to tell it as it is. He’s known you for seventeen years now, the nicest thing you’ve ever said to him was back in fourth grade when you’d called him a good co-parent of your pet caterpillar. “Damn.”
“I mean you’ve always been bad with these things but I didn’t think you’d do something like that.”
“Like what?”
“Be a complete asshole,” you deadpan.
“I didn’t think it was that bad—“
“You told her to delete your number!”
So it was a bad move. He recognizes this. “It’s not like I don’t feel bad.”
The silence lingers as you catch your breath, watch him pensively. Something about the speed of light is being discussed in the background. He feels weirdly exposed.
“I want to try something,” you say finally.
Hoseok’s eyes narrow at you. “What.”
You stare at him blankly. For a second he thinks you’re going to slap him a second time, but instead comes—
“Hoseok, I really like you.”
The coldest, startling feeling runs up his spine. He reflexively says, “That’s disgusting,” and comes to the conclusion that the universe hates him.
“See! You can’t just say that!” You squawk.
“Why not?!”
“What if I had secret feelings for you that had been festering for years and you broke my heart?!”
“Do you?” Hoseok says, slightly alarmed.
“Wha—would you be mad if I did?”
“I would be mad if you did.”
“See, that’s what I’m saying. You’re so mean about feelings.” He watches you focus on the chalkboard behind his ear. He briefly remembers drawing a loopy spaceship on it. “Look. I’m gonna pretend to be a girl confessing to you, and I want you to be more—sentimental. Okay?”
This is the weirdest thing about you. For someone so annoyingly logical about science, you still somehow kept in touch with romance. The dewy-eyed. Everything Hoseok didn’t know. He remembers junior year and the slow dance with Yubok, and how he accidentally fumbled his knuckles against her back—too low, she’d whispered harshly—and how you’d come back from hiding behind one of those big planters near the entrance, looking sparkly and gentle, mussed up, and somehow he knew you were having the best night of your life, and he’d just accidentally ruined his. He remembers that he has never been cut out for this.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Hoseok sneers, thinking about how the universe loved you.
“Too bad,” you say. “I’m gonna start. Hoseok?”
He might get smacked a third time if he doesn’t comply, so he replies, “Yeah?”
You feign shyness. Casting your eyes down, fidgeting with your shirt. “I-I… Well, I just wanted to… tell you something.”
“Sure,” he says.
Your timidness slips into anger in a blink. “I said be sentimental!”
“What—did you want to tell me?” He tries again, shrinking.
“I think—Well, I think you’re really cute—and—“ you cross your arms, and he so badly wants to yell at you to stop— “and… I was wondering. If. You wanted to grab coffee sometime?”
His answer rolls down his tongue too fast for him to catch. “No,” he says flatly, and instantly he flinches to block your slap against his arm.
“Hoseok!”
“I can’t take this seriously.”
“But I want you to be in tune with your feelings,” you whine.
“I’m plenty in tune with my feelings,” he argues. “And I’m feeling invaded right now.”
“There’s a good two feet between us right now.”
“You’re breathing in my direction, it’s enough.”
You ignore this, and reach for his hand lain flat on the table. “How does this feel?”
Surprisingly, the first word that comes to his mind is safe. But that is not a safe response. “Feels—like you’re holding my hand?”
“Ugh. Just—look into my eyes,” you urge next.
“Okay.”
They don’t curve into softness like Soojin’s does. Your gaze is hard, strikes him so hard it’s almost mortifying. Then your hand squeezes his. He discovers that he likes it.
“I really like you, Hoseok,” you say, oozing sweetness in your voice. Subdued, something you were not. Hoseok wants to throw up. “So please just consider me, okay?”
He nods, speechless.
You revert right back to your previous stance and let go of his hand. It’s almost like a betrayal. Hoseok wonders why his heart is leaping. “So how was that?”
“You’re so fucking weird,” he spits.
“I’m helping you. Look. Let’s make it a thing! I’ll teach you how to be romantic and all that stuff.”
“I’m not trusting the expert of Tiger Beat romance, thank you very much.”
You ignore his quip. “You’re a good guy, Hoseok. Soojin might’ve come on a little too strong and so did you but—really! You’re a good guy! Who deserves love and stuff because it’s just nice to have!”
Hoseok sighs. It’s not that he hated the idea of being in love, he just couldn’t help but be unavailable. Pre-occupied. He said things he didn’t mean. You know this about it him.
“Fine.” And before you can cheer, he adds, “But don’t… tell anyone about this.”
“But the big scary hockey man getting slapped by the tiniest person on campus story is so—“
“Don’t push it,” he says.
“Whatever.” You snort. “Yes, fine, it stays between us. Yay! Okay. Tomorrow I have a study group so we might need to meet up two days from now, let me check my schedule…”
You grab your planner from your bag, scanning the pages. Hoseok has the vaguest feeling that he’s in trouble.
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Accidental Happiness | Part Two
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Words: 3,035
Summary: Sams being overprotective and Y/N decides on a midwife.
Warnings: Pregnancy, non-graphic description of labor.
Betaed by @manawhaat. Written for @saxxxology's October Angel request.
---
You pause at the top of the kitchen steps, rubbing your palm against your belly, and then move to start down the two steps.
“Hey, hey, let me help you.”
You can’t help an eye roll as Sam appears at your side, one hand on your back and the other hand on your elbow as he helps you down into the kitchen.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asks, already steering you towards the nearest seat. “Here, sit down. I’ll make you something for lunch.”
You sink into the kitchen chair, more than happy to get off your aching feet. You’re only just starting to really look pregnant at going on five months but you’re definitely feeling it. At least the morning sickness is over. Now you’re getting into craving territory, though you haven’t been craving anything too strange - no pickles in ice cream or whatever weird shit people joke about pregnant women wanting. You know Sam wouldn’t stop you from satisfying those cravings if you had them, but he definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. While you love your boyfriend to death, he’s taking ‘protective father-to-be’ to a whole new level.
“You need to eat more veggies,” Sam is saying, rummaging through the fridge in search of something to make for you. “And of course we don’t have any.”
“That’s because you keep feeding them all to me,” you grumble. “I want a burger. With cheese. And bacon. And fries.”
Sam makes a face. “But you need good, healthy meals. Lots of leafy greens, lean proteins, you know. If you’re craving red meat ‘cause it has iron or something, why not just eat spinach?”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I know. You’ve been telling me for months.”
He doesn’t seem to hear you, emerging from the freezer with a triumphant sound and a package of frozen salmon in one hand. You groan at the sight and he drops the fish onto the counter, rushing to your side.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, crouching beside you with one hand on your belly.
“Will you stop fucking touching my stomach?” you growl, knocking his hand away.
Sam flinches back with an expression like a kicked puppy and you immediately feel bad.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I just don’t want to be touched like that right now.”
Sam flushes, rising. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
You reach out one hand to grab his closest one. “Sam, baby. I love you but right now I also want to kick your ass.”
“I just want you and the baby to be healthy,” he murmurs.
You tug him down so you can kiss him softly. He braces his free hand against the kitchen table and returns the kiss. “I know and I love that about you. But I also would love it if you gave me a little room to breathe. I’m not made of glass. I can get down two steps on my own. I can walk across the kitchen on my own. You don’t have to hover over me every moment of every day.”
He starts to speak but you silence him with another kiss.
“You’re just stressing yourself out. I will let you know when I need help,” you promise him. “And one burger, cooked through, with some cheese, fresh lettuce and tomato, a few slices of bacon, and a healthy serving of fries isn’t going to do me or the baby any harm. I’m even willing to eat a salad on the side if you want to throw one together. Maybe something with Italian dressing?”
“We don’t have any of the veggies I would need,” Sam says quietly.
“Well,” you pat his cheek. “I don’t think we have any of the things for burgers, either. Sounds like you need to go grocery shopping. Have Dean go with you. Take your time. Go find a used bookstore, play a round of pool, something to get you out of the house for more than thirty minutes. Then go grocery shopping and come home so Dean can make me one of those delicious burgers.”
Sam hesitates and then nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’ll be fine here with Cas and Rowena?”
“You know I will be. Cas is too excited about being an uncle to let anything happen to me and Rowena wouldn’t dare, not if she wants to still have access to the library.”
He chuckles, straightening up. “Good point. Make me a grocery list, then.”
“Go get me something to write it on,” you respond, poking his hip.
“I thought you weren’t made of glass,” he teases even as he moves to fetch the notepad and pen Dean keeps by the fridge for grocery lists.
“Listen. My feet hurt.” You take the items from him. “Now that I’m sitting down, I’m not getting up until I have to.”
“Which means until you need to pee.”
You shake the pen at him. “Whose fault is that?”
He leans gently against your back, folding over you to see the list as you write it. “Last time I checked, it takes two to tango.”
“You’re the one with the super swimmers that beat my birth control.”
“I really didn’t need to hear that,” Dean grumbles as he enters the kitchen, making a face.
“If you don’t know how babies are made, that’s not my fault,” you shoot back, grinning as you finish off your list. “I’ve got a chore for you boys.”
You tear the list off the notepad and hold it up. Sam moves to take it but Dean gets there first.
"Groceries?" he whines.
"I want one of your burgers and we don't have any of the shit we need."
"Mmm burgers," Dean says, more to himself than anyone else as he leaves the kitchen.
"You're sure you'll be fine?" Sam asks, leaning down to kiss you one last time.
"I'm sure." You give his ass a smack. "Go get some air, and then come home and rub my feet.”
Sam laughs. “Deal.”
--
Eventually, you drag yourself to your feet and make your way down the hall to the bathroom, gently scolding your baby for sitting on your bladder. It’s as you’re sitting on the toilet that you realize you haven’t felt the baby kick in a while, which is really abnormal considered how active they’ve been since you were first able to feel them. You wrack your brains as you wash your hands, trying to remember when you last felt the baby and quickly coming to the conclusion that you don’t know.
Your stomach twists at the thought and you hurry to the library, calling for Cas. You only find Rowena, though.
“Where’s Cas?” you ask, trying to remain calm.
“No idea,” she says, glancing up from the book she’s buried her nose in. Her bag sits next to her on the table, open to reveal a variety of spell ingredients. “What’s wrong?”
You hesitate to trust Rowena with something like this but Cas is going to insist on calling Sam and you don’t want to worry Sam if it turns out to not be anything serious. That makes Rowena your best option.
“I can’t feel the baby,” you manage, curling your arms around your belly.
She immediately drops her book, rounding the table to guide you into a seat. “Oh, goodness. That’s always stressful. Here, sit. When did you feel the wee one last?”
You shrug, watching as she rummages through her bag. “I don’t know.”
“That’s quite all right,” she soothes, tossing a little of this and that into her mortar before grinding everything into a paste. “Lift your shirt a little, please. I need to draw a sigil on your skin in order to check on the baby.”
“And this is safe?” you ask, already lifting your shirt to reveal your belly.
“Perfectly safe,” she assures you, carefully drawing the sigil onto your skin just above your belly button. The paste is a little cold and you can’t help a shiver. “This is an old spell midwives have been using for centuries. I used it myself many a time when I was carrying Fergus.”
She finishes the sigil and wipes her hands clean on a cloth she pulls from somewhere in her bag. Then she lays her palms on either side of your belly and says a few words in a language you don’t recognize. The sigil glows purple and Rowena is silent a moment, concentrating on whatever the spell is doing. Then she draws a deep breath and straightens up, the glow of the sigil fading as soon as her hands leave your skin.
“Your baby is perfectly healthy,” she says with a soft smile. “Just sleeping.”
Relief floods your body as she gently wipes the sigil away and you slump a little in your chair. Of course the baby’s sleeping. Babies do that.
“Thank you,” you say, pulling your shirt down.
“It was nothing,” Rowena replies with a soft smile. “I’m more than happy to help an expecting mother. It’s been a long time since I was able to use my midwifery skills.”
“You were a midwife?”
Rowena pauses in cleaning up the spell ingredients. “I’ve taken that role several times over the centuries. I quite enjoy it and if I could do it permanently, I would. But it’s better to leave at least a few decades between. Keep people from being suspicious and all that.”
You nod. “That makes sense.”
The two of you settle into silence, Rowena cleaning and you watching while your mind rolls over this new information and you come to a decision.
“Rowena?”
She glances over at you. “Yes?”
“Will you be my midwife?”
--
“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam says through gritted teeth, dragging you into the hall outside the library. “She’s a witch!”
“A witch with several centuries of midwife experience,” you explain, fighting to keep calm despite your annoyance with Sam.
“So she says,” he snaps back. “We can’t trust her.”
“You’ve trusted her in the past!”
Sam tenses and there’s a moment where his gaze on you softens but it's only a moment. “I can’t trust her with this, Y/N. With you. And with them.”
With understanding eyes cast up at him, you can’t hold your tongue, no matter how sweet Sam’s objection is. “Don’t you think this is something I should have the final say in?”
“It’s our baby,” he sneers, all too possessive for something he can’t even touch, yet.
You stab him in the chest with one finger. “Yes, but they’re living in my body. I want Rowena as my midwife.”
His jaw clenches and he steps back, glaring down at you. “And if I say no?”
You return his angry glare. “You can’t, Sam. I’m doing this. Your choice is whether you’re going to be there for the birth of our child, or not.”
The corners of his mouth twitch and he takes another few steps away, clearly putting distance between the two of you and the emotions he’s clinging to.
He mouths your name and you know what he’s feeling - you know Sam. He’s terrified of the possible complications that you could run into in labor, in a hospital, let alone with a centuries-old witch overseeing things at home. You’re scared of those things, too. But you know what scares Sam the most is that the look in your eyes means you’re serious. If he walks away, you will do this without him.
“Okay, he sighs, voice weak but growing stronger as he approaches again. “Okay. It’s your decision and I’ll respect it. I don’t like it, but I’ll respect it.”
You lay your hands on Sam’s waist. “Thank you.”
He nods stiffly. “Yeah.”
You sigh and kiss the corner of his mouth. “Sam. I’m not doing this to make you upset. She really does know what she’s talking about and I feel safe with her. Plus, this means we can have the home birth I wanted.”
“I know,” Sam admits.
You smile and bring his hands up to press flat against your belly. “Give her a chance? For us?”
Sam’s expression softens as his thumbs stroke back and forth. The baby shifts to kick at his hands, pulling a smile to Sam’s face. “Anything for you,” he says quietly, kissing your forehead.
“Anything?” you lift a playful eyebrow at him.
“Anything,” he repeats.
“Good because I want a foot massage while Dean makes dinner.”
Sam chuckles but allows you to lead him down the hall to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t even complain when you choose a really flowery-scented lotion for him to use, just pulls your feet into his lap and gets to work.
If you’re going to be honest, you decide as you lay back against a pile of pillows, you could definitely get used to this.
--
Rowena is a dedicated midwife. Sam is still wary of her but he relaxes when he sees how comfortable she makes you, how attentive she is to the needs of both you and the baby. She teams up with him in making you eat a healthy diet but is willing to take your side when you’re craving something that’s not on the list of recommended foods. She introduces you to the wonders of red raspberry leaf tea. When she mentioned raspberries, you were excited to try it, but you were soon disappointed to discover it to be more of a green tea than a fruit one. Still good but not as good as plain raspberry tea would be.
With her help, the final months of your pregnancy are slightly easier to handle. She’s there to answer any questions you or Sam have, which lowers your stress levels immensely. Possibly the best thing she does, though, is show Sam all the ways to massage your aching body and actually make things feel better. Sam’s a quick learner and his hands are magical. So magical, in fact, that you almost don't notice you're in labor. Almost.
"Fucking hell," you grumble, rolling your neck when Sam stops rubbing your lower back. Nothing quite like a massage to get you ready for bed - though you're still aching. "I don't know why I've been so sore. It's worse than it was yesterday."
Sam frowns and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Want me to go get Rowena?"
You shake your head, tugging on one of Sam's shirts. “I'll talk to her if I'm still hurting in the morning. I’m just,” you sigh, “really fucking uncomfortable.”
Sam nuzzles softly into the curve of your neck. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. It’s late and she’s probably already in bed. I don’t want to bother her. Lemme up, I need to pee before we go to bed."
Sam pouts but lets go and you get up. You only make it two steps, though, before you feel what can only be described as a slight pop and then a small gush of liquid escapes your body. At that moment, everything - the discomfort and pain in your lower belly and back, the pressure on your pelvis - makes sense.
“Sam?” you say softly, reaching behind you blindly until you find his hand and lacing your fingers together.
“Hmm?”
“Maybe you should go get Rowena.”
He’s immediately on his feet, come around to grip your shoulders with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay?”
You nod, looking up at him with what you hope is a smile full of excitement and nervousness, but is really a grimace full of terror. “My water just broke.”
Rowena is by your side in minutes, bag in hand. She gives Sam a list of things to gather for her. He looks grateful to have something to do. Things develop slowly from there - much slower than you expected - and it isn’t until over a day later that things really start to pick up and you go into what Rowena calls active labor. Rowena and Sam are by your side through it all and when the time finally comes to push seven hours later, Rowena is there guiding you with her soft voice and Sam providing his hands for you to cling to. You know you’ll feel bad about cussing him out later but in the moment, the words are therapeutic.
After a total of about thirty-two hours of labor, including the time you were in labor but didn’t realize it, the room is filled with the angry cries of your brand new baby girl.
“Oh,” you breath when Rowena places her right on your chest, umbilical cord still attached. You’re naked except for some sheets, having ditched your clothes sometime earlier because they were drenched in sweat, and the press of your baby’s skin against your own sends a surge of warmth through your body and happy tears leaking from your eyes. She settles immediately once you offer her a nipple to nurse at. It takes a moment for you to get the angle right and for her to latch on properly, but once she does, you’re filled with a maternal instinct you never knew could be so strong.“Hi, little one,” you murmur as Rowena works around your hands to clean her up. “Hi.” You’d planned for either a boy or a girl after deciding you didn’t want to find out until the birth, and now, looking at her, you know the name Sam picked is perfect.
Sam is watching in awe. He shifts to sit next to you on the bed, one arm around your shoulders as he tentatively reaches the other hand out to brush his fingertips over her cheek.
“Hi,” he says, voice trembling a little. “Welcome to the world, Rose.”
When you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes. “Sam?”
He sniffs and presses his cheek to the top of your head. “I just… I never thought I would get to have this. You, her. A home, a family. And now she’s here and we weren’t even trying to have her, but she’s perfect.” He squeezes your shoulders, drawing a deep breath. “Everything is perfect.”
You smile, fresh tears dotting your cheeks as you stroke Rose’s fuzzy head and lean into Sam’s embrace. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
---
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Got me losin' all my cool (Crygi) - Mar
A/N: First fic I’ve done in years! Any feedback is welcome.
The sun shone brightly through the window, directly into Crystal’s eyes. It fed the headache she could feel growing with every squeak of chalk on the blackboard, every droning word that left her teacher’s mouth. Ten a.m. and she was already done with school.
Crystal was holding a pen, but every time she thought she understood the lesson enough to reflect it on paper, the teacher moved on to a new concept and Crystal’s fragile understanding crumbled down. Three attempts later, Crystal gave up on the entire lesson and resigned herself to relying on someone else’s notes. She studied her classmates, trying to figure out who would be willing to help her out. She didn’t really have friends in the class, but maybe…
Crystal looked a few desks over to the girl sitting at the front of the class, hair gathered up neatly in a ponytail, face propped on her left fist. Her pen hadn’t stopped moving since class started.
Gigi Goode was not her friend. Up until the previous week, their relationship was limited to the moments when Crystal would feel brave enough to wave at her and Gigi would wave back, giving her a half-smile so pretty that Crystal had to look away every time. That was it. Crystal was pretty sure the girl didn’t even know her name.
But then.
Then, the class had got paired up for an essay, and God had decided to be funny.
“You’ll need to write fifteen hundred words, more or less, including the conclusion,” said the teacher. “Now, for the teams, uhh… left side of the class, write your names in pieces of paper, then put them in this jar, c’mon.” At that, he grabbed the chalk jar off his desk and emptied it, then handed it to the nearest student to pass around.
Crystal tried to be discreet, but she couldn’t stop sneaking glances at the front of the class, where Gigi Goode was ripping off a bit of paper from her notebook. Crystal knew better than to hope. There were twenty three people in her class, and she had twelve potential partners, which meant… eight percent? She had an eight-ish percent chance of getting paired with the girl she couldn’t stop looking at. It was a very low number.
Do I even want her as my partner?, she thought. At the time, Gigi was a nice distraction during a boring class, something to look forward to on Wednesday mornings. By spending time with her, by having their first real conversation, really, Crystal risked ruining a perfectly nice crush. What if Gigi was secretly mean? Although she didn’t seem like the type. Crystal had seen her happily chatting with Jan Mantione many times. Jan was too kind to befriend a mean girl.
God, what if she was boring? That would be depressing. If Gigi was the type to call everything a “meme”, or if she tried to show her a joke she found on Instagram that Crystal had seen on Twitter six months ago… Maybe they wouldn’t have anything to talk about, maybe Crystal would forget everything she knew about the subject and look stupid, maybe-
Her thoughts were interrupted by the kid behind her tapping her gently on the shoulder with the name jar. Crystal smiled her thanks and took the jar, and a folded strip of paper from it. It’s no big deal. It’s no big deal. She unfolded the name, and… oh.
Gigi had really pretty handwriting.
Crystal noticed that her classmates were moving around and finding their partners, so she stood up and walked to the front of the class, where Gigi was looking around, waiting to be approached.
“Umm, Gigi?”
“Crystal, hey!” said Gigi. Okay, so she did know her name.
“I got you. Your name, I mean.” Smooth.
“Oh, good! I was hoping I’d get you.”
“Really?” asked Crystal, a little shocked.
“Really. You seem cool, and I know you have a high grade in this class. You’re my perfect partner,” she explained, again flashing her million watt smile.
What the fuck… what the fuck…
“Oh, uh, great, then! Great…” Crystal trailed off, but she thought she deserved a medal for even replying, at all. She looked at Gigi and noticed the girl was staring at her, expectantly.
“What?” she asked, dumbly.
Gigi smiled and leaned in.
“The essay?”
“Oh my God, right. So, how do you wanna tackle this? Library after school?”
“Let’s go to my place, instead. My mom can pick us up and you can stay for dinner, if we need more time.”
Gigi didn’t ask questions, she just laid out plans and expected the masses to follow. And they did.
“Oh, sure, that sounds good. I, um, should I give you my number?” Nice, Crystal.
“Yes! Here,” said Gigi, handing over her phone.
Crystal typed her number under the name “Crystal” and saved the contact. Then, she went back and added “(from school)”.
The bell rang and Gigi started gathering her things. “Meet me in the parking lot at the end of the day, okay?”
“See you then,” said Crystal. There was really no denying Gigi’s smile and directness, her unwavering confidence.
In her defence, the plan worked. Gigi’s mom was funny and loud, throwing quips back and forth with her daughter and making Crystal feel at ease the moment she got in the car. The Goode house was big enough that the girls could discuss their ideas loudly when they got excited (which happened often), and play music at top volume (Gigi had an actual CD player, and The Cranberries’ entire discography, to Crystal’s delight.)
They ended up working together for five hours, which gave Crystal plenty of opportunity to make a fool of herself, and she more than delivered. But Gigi just kept laughing at everything that came out of her mouth, and after a while, Crystal understood that she was being laughed with, not at. Gigi genuinely found her funny.
Crystal did end up staying for dinner, even though their work was finished. Crystal and Gigi set the table in perfect coordination, as if they did it every day, and Crystal felt warm at the notion and dumb at the feeling.
You talked today for the first time. Calm down, lesbian.
But the Goode family didn’t make it easy either, with their welcoming attitude and the way they teased Crystal like they’d known her forever. She felt comfortable there, and once her dad picked her up, all she could think about was that she wished the essay had taken longer.
A week later, they were back at square one, like nothing had happened. Gigi still waved in the hallways and Crystal maybe held eye contact for longer but that was just scratching the surface of what Crystal wanted. Namely, to be asked out. But she’d fucked up monumentally by not getting Gigi’s number when she had the chance, and Crystal’s suave move of putting her contact in Gigi’s phone had gone to waste, because Gigi had not texted her. Crystal was not about to talk to her in person about the weather or whatever people talked to their crushes about. High school sports. Locker decoration or something.
Asking for notes, however, was a logical and not at all suspicious reason to approach someone. The bell rang, people started leaving. This mission had a ticking clock. She could do it, she could talk to Gigi as long as she had a goal and an opening line thought out. She was doing this, she was getting out of her chair, she was walking to the front of the class and it was a bad idea Crystal turn back turn back turn-
And she was at Gigi’s desk.
Gigi noticed her and slammed her notebook shut with a pencil still inside.
“Hi, Crys!”
Any weirdness Crystal may have noticed on the girl was completely swept from Crystal’s mind by that nickname.
“Hey, Geeg.” That’s good, that’s casual. Crystal leaned against the empty desk next to Gigi’s. “So, I completely blanked the entire class. I wanted to ask if you’d lend me your notes?”
Gigi’s face fell a little. “Oh.”
“Only if you want, of course!” Crystal was quick to add, “You totally don’t have to, you probably need your notebook, and- forget I asked.”
“No, no, Crystal, it’s not that. It’s just, I- I also didn’t take any notes, so. Seems we’re on the same boat, ha ha.”
“Oh, sorry!” Hold on. “I saw you writing a lot, were you just fooling Mister Crawley?”
Gigi looked down to her pencils and whispered, “No, I was, uh, drawing.”
“You draw?” Crystal asked, suddenly excited. “I love drawing, I draw all the time!”
“I know that,” whispered Gigi.
“What?”
“I said, I don’t like this drawing, really, so I don’t wanna show it.”
“I feel like that all the time about my drawings. I like to think it’s because I’m improving, but who knows!”
“You get it,” said Gigi.
“Well, do you wanna go get someone else’s notes? Since we both missed the class.”
Gigi visibly perked up. “Sure! Let’s go.”
When Crystal turned to go get her things, she kicked Gigi’s desk and her pencils and notebook fell to the ground, open at the page where Gigi had left a pencil. The pencil rolled under the teacher’s desk, but Crystal didn’t notice because her eyes were fixed on the drawings on the page.
She recognized those lips. She recognized that nose, she recognized that hair.
She recognized herself.
Gigi dropped to the floor and scurried to close the notebook.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clutching her notebook to her chest and not looking up.
Crystal lowered herself to the floor and laid her hand in between their bodies.
“Can I see?”
Gigi’s head shot up and she stared at Crystal in shock.
“You weren’t meant to see that.”
“I mean, you don’t have to show me, but from what I could see, you made me really cute,” said Crystal, smiling wide.
Gigi seemed to pick up on Crystal’s good intentions and smiled back. “I just draw what I see,” she said, handing Crystal the open notebook.
“Cheeky.”
Crystal studied the drawing, running her finger through the lines. It really was good.
“You got my hair exactly right. Even the color.”
“You’re being weirdly chill about this. Most people would freak out, I assume.”
Crystal shrugged. “No need to freak out over this. I’m honestly flattered, I didn’t realize you spend so much time looking at me,” she teased.
Gigi laughed and took her notebook back. “Shut up! I don’t, you just have a memorable face.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment!”
“It is.”
The girls stared at each other for a moment, until Crystal broke the silence.
“Although, you missed my freckles, and the eyes are too big. You should look at me some more, maybe after school at the milkshake place down the block?”
Gigi blinked a few times.
“That was smooth as fuck. I was hoping you’d have the gall to ask me out sometime this year,” she teased.
“You know, I was nervous to do it before, but you really showed your hand today, so I figured it’s my turn to embarrass myself.”
“Fuck you,” said Gigi, with the biggest smile.
“Sure. Not in school, though. We’ll see how this date goes.”
#rpdr fanfiction#crystal methyd#gigi goode#crygi#got me losin' all my cool#mar#lesbian au#high school au#concrit welcome#back to school 2020#day 1: notebook#submission
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animaniacs - s3e6: hercules unwound
yeah it’s season three now. sorry. season 1 had sixty five episodes in it and season 2 had..... four. i don’t understand it either. but none of those episodes had mice, so i guess we’re here now!! (if i’m wrong, and they did have mice, feel free to get back to me, but i definitely didn’t see any mice on the wikipedia page.)
episode summary: inexplicably existing in ancient greece, the boys plan to steal zeus’ lightning bolt. which is the source of his powers, i guess? i don’t know. this episode makes no sense.
the rundown:
so here’s the thing.
they introduce ancient greece.
they introduce hercules.
they establish he’s a crybaby who has twelve (12) chores to do today, which... seems like an excessive amount of chores, sure, but he’s literally just rolling around on the floor and having a tantrum about it.
zeus gets pissed off and electrocutes him.
and then the warners show up. “i’m lost,” says wakko, “is that our cue?” they have no idea. they’re confused. i’m confused. this short has gone in like eight different directions since it started.
still, they potter down to where hercules is crying, introduce themselves (left; yakkoles, right; wakkonemnon)
(above, the goddess of cuteness, aphrodottie.)
and then dot goes and lays on the floor and decides she doesn’t want to do it.
“you wanna just skip this cartoon?”
“yeah.”
“alright, see ya, pal.”
and off they go, i guess.
that’s.... as accurately as i can summarise it. none of what happens there has anything to do with the mice or the future plot, so i’m just gonna skip past it, if that’s okay.
poor hercules. having to clean out the stables all by his lonesome.
meanwhile, after a sudden jumpcut, we see aristotle desperately trying to teach his class the source of zeus’ powers. it’s the lightning bolt, you goofs! the lightning bolt equals unlimited power!
none of them care.
good thing someone does! so we can get the review started already, christ. this is how they’re arranged at first, but it’s only for a couple of frames, so i’m highlighting it because it’s very funny! and also very easy to miss.
“we, pinkus, shall steal zeus’ lightning bolt, overthrow the kingdom, and
TAKE OVER THE WORLD.” good thing they managed to squeeze another closeup in there, huh. just can’t have an episode without them.
“but how do we get to the tippy-top of mount olympus, where zeus lives?”
“i have that figured out, pinkus. behold, across the street, the agean stables, where legendary, famed and godlike horse pegasus spends the day.”
calm down, brain. jesus. i thought pinky was the one with the Horse Thing. brain goes onto explain that every night, pegasus flies back to mount olympus,
okay.
and they’re just gonna hitch a ride. climb on his back without him noticing. steal the minivan, except the minivan is a flying horse.
so off they go to do that, i guess!
it immediately cuts to them being chased by cerberus, with a “run, pinky, run!” from brain, which is cute. his name is pinkus, in this interation, but brain calls him pinky for short. did the writers intend that to be cute? probably not. do i find it cute? absolutely.
it’s very peatb-esque. still, they outrun it eventually.
“in future, pinkus, let sleeping guard dogs lie. especially when one has three heads.”
“funny. the middle head seemed so friendly.”
honestly? the animation here is cute. and it kind of sucks that they gave the good animators whatever this episode is. is there something i’m not understanding? it’s just been completely threadbare random throughout. they always seem to give the good episodes to the guys who draw them weird. it’s upsetting.
but the stables are there, so off they go.
so while hercules cleans out the stable and whines about it,
medusa gives pegasus a makeover. she is just dying to braid his tail, for no extra charge. this would probably be a lot funnier if i knew who they were trying to make fun of, here? but it’s all good. (that’s one of the problems i have with this show, sadly. all these celebrities stopped being quite so famous literally before i was born. hoo hoo. i’m sure there are like, 30-40 year olds who appreciate the humour far more than i do.)
the mice have found their target. soon, they will strike.
“there he is, pinkus. in all his wing-ed glory.” he puts the stress on the “ed” and it’s uncomfortable. nobody says words like that, brain! or i guess he does? whatever.
so they climb this conveniently placed shovel, ready to jump right on! because, yknow, it’s right there.
except hercules decides that, yknow, he needs a bigger shovel to... clean out the stables with, and--
look. guys?
i have so much anxiety, okay? real talk for a sec. you see my head? nothing up there makes sense. this is why i run a cartoon mouse blog. one of the ways that manifests is in incredibly nervous coprophobia. i don’t like to talk about it. it makes things difficult for me. this episode makes things difficult for me. i barely made it through the stupid... garden of mindy. you don’t want to see this, i don’t want to see this, i do not want my comfort characters to have to deal with this, and i do not want to put myself through the heart attack of trying to transcribe it like the... bad children’s tv jokes bible. okay? i’m skipping this section because it doesn’t add anything and i’ve had enough.
hercules uses the shovel. the mice get dirty. presumably, between scenes, they go take a bath. let’s just say that happens. whatever. cartoon logic.
but nobody takes a bath without hercules’ sayso, so he decides to beat them to death. this is just the first frame i skipped to. i assume this is what’s happening.
i’m not enjoying this episode.
homeboy decimates a wheelbarrow. it has good faces, i’ll give it that. this episode has good faces. is it wang? why on earth would they give wang this bollocks.
“be gone, manure sprites!”
yeet.
thankfully there’s nothing weird in this barrel. it’s whatever medusa was doing pegasus’ pedicure with. dish washing liquid, i think? whatever that means. i’ll be honest, too many gross things have happened in this episode and i’m not sure i could handle anything e--
ah.
what.
thankfully, pegasus decides this is a good time to get the fuck out of dodge.
the mice agree.
hercules grabs bucket girl and also gets out of dodge.
that was weird and random and not needed.
but like, it’s fine. it’s good. they’re on the horse. the horse is flying directly towards mount olympus. yknow. it worked out.
conclusion:
as zeus mopes about his son’s work ethic, the mice get on with their own, tiny mouse jobs.
“upon that table, pinkus, is zeus’ mighty lightning bolt.”
“gee, i hope he has it charged up.”
with a LIGHTNING CABLE!! hoo hoo. hee. those were definitely not a thing when this came out.
brain doesn’t find it quite so funny, sadly, but he chooses to ignore it in favour of hustling his little mouse ass onto the table.
“all power is ours, pinkus. now to-- take over the world...”
bonk.
this is not the first time this has happened. (or maybe it is? chronologically? who knows.)
but oh no! zeus looks through his big old zeus telescope that he has and works out that the stables are worse than ever, actually, and hercules has no intention of cleaning them.
he’s off having a coffee break with medusa! typical. time to electrocute him.
so zeus reaches for his trusty lightning bolt.
pinky’s so chill about this. he’s just vibin.
yeet.
he just straight up throws the whole thing. does it respawn? y’all. i don’t get it.
“i sense the pivotal moment of failure quickly approaches.”
unfortunately - or perhaps it is forunate, depending on how you look at it - zeus just straight up misses.
the mice rebound.
aaaaand that can’t be good.
sploosh.
of course, whether or not this was zeus’ intention, the upshot is that the stables are nice and clean, finally.
so hopefully we never ever have to go through that again.
on the downside, the mice did drown, so i guess that’s the end of this blog.
brain: 3 ½
pinky: 5 ½
outside influence: 8
“as your reward, you get to marry a goddess.”
“the goddess of love? the goddess of beauty?”
“no!”
“the goddess of cuteness, aphrodottie.”
(so we iris out on child marriage. goodnight, everybody.)
#patb#a!#pinky and the brain#animaniacs#this review was not good. and for that i apologise.#i just didn't get this episode?? am i missing something? it just made no sense#but!!! we get the civil war tomorrow! which should be interesting C:
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sprung spring | cherry? popped. | xavier plympton {m}
PROMPT USED:
First time + permeate + “I need you. Now!” + rock in place + the steady creaking of the bed + supernatural being / human
NOTES:
Obviously, I am so so fucking awful at naming anything. And I tried my best to fuse ‘pre death’ Xavier’s personality with what he started to become before getting murdered and stuck in Camp Redwood. This is just my take. It’s probably not even remotely accurate, tbh. But.. It’s out here. I wrote the damn thing. I suppose I gotta own whatever consequence comes my way.
Fun fact... this is a small peek at a sort of story idea I have in mind that knowing me, I won’t ever write... So... yeah. Maybe if enough people bother me, I’ll think about writing the actual fic I have in mind. Hints of a soulmate au if you squint. Virgin sex. FYI, this is set in 2019. And the concept as I imagine it and would write it if I were to do a fic is a little... weird... twisty... idk mannnn...
WARNINGS:
unprotected sex - with a ghost, body fluids, heavy emphasis on biting and marking, oral / hints of orgasm denial, probably waay too fluffy / sappy Xavier, virgin ! human oc x ghost ! xavier... I think that’s it.
PAIRING:
Xavier Plympton x OFC, Cherie. American Horror Story 1984
TAGGING:
Oddly enough, there’s no one on my American Horror Story taglist. If you would like to be on my tag lists please go [ here ] and put yourself where you wish to be. Or dm me and tell me where you wanna be tagged and I’ll add you.
“You’re not down at the bonfire with your boytoy?” Xavier didn’t even look up from the magazine he was flipping through. He knew she’d be standing there, watching him. The air between them lingered heavily with words unspoken. Since earlier, when she’d seen the soulmate marking on his arm that matched her own, she’d been scarce. If they had run into each other, she’d been distant.
Montana was right. In a few weeks, they’d all be gone and things would go back to the way they’d been before. He’d been an idiot to think that he could just get close to Cherie and be fine with having to let go at the end of the summer. So when Cherie started to avoid him earlier, he hadn’t tried to fight it. He hadn’t gone out of his way to seek her out.
They were literally two ships passing at night, after all. He was dead, doomed to remain in the camp for the rest of time. She was alive and she had so much ahead to live for. Things he couldn’t give her, even though he realized now that he really wanted to.
If he were as selfish as he’d been on occasion in life, he’d be stopping at nothing to keep her by his side. But he wasn’t entirely that guy anymore, so maybe it was better this way.
In the time it took him to come to this conclusion, she’d wandered into the cabin, shutting the door behind her softly. Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, she sat there, staring down at worn floorboards.
“I was. But then I…” Cherie trailed off, going quiet. “Look, before I came here, everything was planned. I was fine with it. Then earlier tonight, Jake got drunk and high and he started acting like an ass like usual…” she trailed off again, taking a deep breath. “I broke up with him.”
Xavier sat up, letting the magazine fall to the mattress. Even though he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he found himself slipping an arm around her. “You alright, doll?”
“Yeah, no… I don’t know. Everything is changing. I wish I could just freeze time. Or rewind it. I shouldn’t have come here, this was dumb, what am I even doing?” Cherie went to stand, but Xavier’s arms snaked around her hips and he pulled her back down to sit on his bed. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he leaned against her from behind.
This went against everything. He kept telling himself that he could handle the fact that the one thing he didn’t even realize he wanted having an actual for good expiration date attached, but today, her seeing their matching marks at last and distancing… It had shown him that he was wrong and he’d been trying to distance.
“No, no.. Freezing time or going back is the last thing you wanna do, doll. Believe me.” Xavier’s voice was warm and breathy against the shell of her ear and as he started to massage her shoulders, her eyes fluttered open and shut. Her head fell back and Xavier’s eyes locked on her neck as he licked his lips. He pressed closer.
“What’s that got to do with you comin in here, doll?”
“Because everything just became crystal clear… Maybe everything I had all planned out was wrong. Maybe Winona’s right. Shit happens for a reason. Coming out here, meeting you, I… I can’t fight the inevitable, not when I want it so bad it’s all I can see when I close my eyes… Do you know how hard it is, being around him, trying to pretend nothing’s changed and wishing it were you?”
Xavier’s breath caught and he gripped her body, pulling her into his lap before he could stop himself. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Trust me.”
“No, I know exactly what I’m saying.” Cherie’s tone was firm and she settled in his lap so that she was closer, pressing against him. As usual, he was almost icy cold. She gritted her teeth but smiled a little, taking his face in her hands. “You won’t make me change my mind. Look… I’m not saying that when the summer ends, I’m not gonna just…. Go off and do everything.. I’m not saying I give up, I just… I’m saying that I can’t keep going through the motions now. I just wanna be free. I want to enjoy things.”
“Babe, you can’t…” Xavier trailed off. She rocked herself against him and he swallowed hard, trying to shift the way she sat in his lap so she didn’t feel him about to burst through the jeans he was wearing. His hands slipped down her sides, squeezing her hips to try and stop her from doing it again.
“Why not? Don’t you want me? I mean we’ve been…Flirting for a while now and I thought that...Nevermind.” Cherie trailed off, confused and shaking her head. Her stomach was churning and she was starting to feel the embarrassment of potentially being wrong. She went to wiggle out of his lap and she made it to the door.
Xavier swore under his breath because the last thing he wanted to do was let her walk out that door. Goddamn it, he thought to himself, don’t I deserve something after all this bullshit?
“Wait, doll. Don’t go.” Xavier pressed himself against her from behind, his hand covering her hand on the doorknob, removing it. He slowly circled the shell of her ear with his tongue as he muttered lazily, “You’re not wrong, okay? I want you. So fucking much.” he thrust his hips against her backside, rubbing the bulge straining against his jeans against her backside and growling when the littlest bit of friction just wasn’t enough.
Just feeling how hard he was already through thin bike shorts had Cherie hissing and taking a ragged breath as she turned to face him and stared up. Her arms slipped up, wrapping around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck as she clung to him and pulled him down just slightly. Enough that her mouth brushed right against his and Xavier growled quietly again, his hands gripping her hips tighter. Up into his arms she went and he stepped back over to the bed, dropping her gently against the lumpy mattress. He leaned down, pressing himself into her, his hands pinning her hands at either side of her head. “I need you. Now. We just… we won’t think about anything but tonight, okay?” the question came breathy and warm against her neck as his lips latched on and he rocked himself into her, drawing out a needy whine and a few ragged breaths as she nodded. “Agreed.” grinding against his lap, her breath hitching all over again as she felt the bulge in his jeans getting even harder. Her cunt was throbbing. Every single time he bucked into her, she could feel herself dripping a little more.
Xavier’s forehead pressed into hers, his mouth latching onto her lips, drawing her into a slow and lazy kiss. Her tongue slipped out, trailing lazily over the outline of his lips and one of his hands left her hand, drifting down between them and tugging the baggy crop top she was wearing up and out of the way, letting it settle on the cabin floor.
Cherie tugged his shirt over his head, throwing it next to her own and Xavier’s hands drifted up and down her body, lingering on her breasts, pushing them together, his tongue slipping over her teeth, tracing them and then slipping between them to tangle with her own tongue. She rocked herself up into him, a quiet series of urgent whimpers and begging moans making him chuckle and reach for the pull to the lamp on the table next to the bed, cloaking the room in total darkness. His mouth broke from her mouth, working down her neck after he’d pushed her hair out of his way.
The warmth of his breath against her ear sent a shiver racing through her body and when he muttered quietly “Gonna be a long night, doll.” smirking down at her when he felt her legs squeeze into his hips a little more. Her fingertips walked down his chest, toying with the button on his jeans as she stared up at him and bit her lip, giving a soft giggle when she responded quietly, “I hope so.”
Every part of him wanted to follow up with how he’d think of her as belonging to him after tonight, after they crossed this line, but he had to stop himself. He had to hold back. It was bad enough he was going this far. To delude himself -and most importantly, her, about a future they couldn’t ever logically have would be insane. Rather than do that, his hands caught in the waistband of her shorts and he started to pull them down her legs. She got his button undone, then the zip to his pants and Xavier rose a little too quickly, bumping the top of his head on the bunk above him and scowling while swearing about it, kicking his pants and boxers free at the ankle. Cherie’s eyes wandered over him slowly, lingering and even widening a little at the sight of his cock, standing at attention.
The thickness of his length had her swallowing hard and biting her lip as her heart raced erratically. Xavier knew exactly what she was staring at and it made him give a quiet chuckle as he lowered himself down all over again. Only her undergarments remained and those were quickly done away with, falling to the floor and settling on the edge of the nightstand and as soon as she was pinned beneath him, completely naked, Xavier’s eyes roamed over her body slowly and hungrily.
He licked his lips and centered himself above her, his body spreading her legs. Lowering his face to her face, he muttered smoothly, “Last chance to back out, pretty girl.”
“If I were going to back out, handsome… I never would’ve come in here to you.” Cherie admitted, going quiet when he stared at her a second or two as what she said clicked into place for him. He smirked, his mouth conquering her neck and throat, marking her up and not bothering to be careful or discreet about it at all.
Oh no, not him. He wanted tonight to be seared into her mind. If he was going to be stuck here, not able to forget her and knowing she was out there, away from him and living… If he were going to endure that torture, she was not going to forget tonight if he could help it. He wanted her to look back years from now and miss him. Wonder what might have been.
Maybe it was selfish. At the moment, he didn’t particularly care. It was already enough that he was going to do the right thing at the end of the summer and just let her go. That was already killing him. That was going to be enough selfless for him, right there. Knowing he had to let her go and that he’d never see her again, he’d never get to know what might have been.
“Fucking right you did, doll. You came to me.” Xavier’s voice was husky and low as he muttered into soft skin. Cherie took a shaky breath and gripped hold of his biceps, making him stop his mouth’s venture down her body and stare at her. “Just a heads up… I’m not exactly experienced at this.. Any of it… at all.”
Her words had him gaping a little but leaning down, capturing her mouth in a needy and bruising kiss as he muttered lazily into the kiss, “This is going to be fun, then.” as her fingers caught in his hair, threading through.
He reached down between them, wrapping his hand around his length, raising up to guide it along her folds, staring down at her with that devilish smirk as he licked his lips. When he teased the tip between them, he shivered and gave a quiet groan at the way she dripped already. “ Tell me something, doll..” he muttered , leaning down, pressing into her as his mouth moved across her collarbones, nipping and sucking. He stopped to look at her.
“Yeah?” Cherie breathed out, squirming, trying anything she could to get him inside her. She gripped his jaw, guiding his mouth back to hers, her lips clenching his bottom one almost greedily as she bucked herself against him, splitting her folds as her cunt dragged down the length of his cock. Xavier growled and gripped her hip tight enough to leave a handprint behind and chuckling, he finished his question, “Are you ready to get your cherry popped, doll?”
“Yes.” gasping, she gave her answer as she tried again to buck against the grip he had on her hip. She couldn’t, and just knowing that had Xavier smirking, his tongue dragging lazily over his lip as he rose up and then crawled down her body, settling himself between her thighs, holding them spread with his hands. His tongue rolled up the insides, lapping greedily at every drop as she dripped for him. He felt her hand drifting down, tangling in the top of his hair and tugging. “That’s it, pretty girl. Pull my hair. Move those fucking hips.” Xavier drawled against her cunt as his tongue trailed right between it, a broad stripe moving upward to circle her clit one, two, three times. When he sank his teeth into the edge of the bundled nerves, she cried out, her other hand gripping the faded blanket on his bed. Her hips rocked upward against his mouth and his nose bumped against her dripping heat as he inhaled and groaned at the scent of her. He could feel his cock getting harder at just the thought of burying inside, having her walls clench around it. Feeling her drip and coat it. Making her scream his name over and over and over again. When she whimpered and whined and begged him to go faster with his tongue after he’d buried it deep in her cunt, he chuckled and smirked against her. “Does this feel good? Because fuck… You taste so sweet.”
Cherie’s head fell back and she gripped the blanket and his hair tighter, angling her hips upward, rocking against his mouth like he told her to, harder and faster. The faster her hips moved, the more his tongue swirled. Xavier growled against dripping folds as the taste of her absolutely flooded his tongue and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he made his way back up her body, pulling her up, crushing her against him as he pulled her into a rough and bruising kiss.
He felt her tense beneath him as he started to sink into her and she whimpered, biting her lip as she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s not gonna hurt long, okay? I promise.” Xavier’s voice was almost a growl when he muttered the words against the shell of her ear. His hands drifted down, gripping her hips as he sank into her a little deeper, staring down at her the whole time.
“Fuck.” Cherie gasped, “So big.”
The words drew a pleased smirk and Xavier pressed his hips into her hips firmly, going still after he’d buried himself in a little deeper. She tried to move her hips but he squeezed them, holding her still and shaking his head. “You good?”
“Mhm.” Cherie muttered and Xavier buried his cock completely inside, slow and deep thrusts, his hips smacking against hers so hard that he knew there would be bruises. She met every single one of his deep and hard thrusts with her hips, moaning his name and whimpering, clinging to him from below. “C’mon, faster, please?” she managed to gasp, but Xavier continued at his preferred pace, hell bent on fucking her deep into the mattresses beneath them. She pouted up at him, frustrated tears stinging at her eyes because she could feel herself tensing and tightening, just like she’d been when he had his head buried between her thighs and he kept stopping then.
She wanted another orgasm.
He seemed to be hell bent on taking his time. As his cock struck against her throbbing g spot over and over, slowly and steadily, she moaned louder, her voice drowning out the soft smack of their bodies colliding and the slow and steady creak of the old iron bed frame. “C’mon, doll.. Scream my name. Let everyone know who’s got their cock buried deep in that dripping pussy.” Xavier urged, smirking when he started to go a little faster and Cherie seemed to get louder, her moans bouncing off the walls and drowning out all the other little background noises around them. “You’re so fucking tight, so wet. Fuck.” Xavier managed to gasp as he went still inside her, holding his finger to her lips, leaning in to steal a few kisses.
It felt so fucking good he knew if he kept going, he’d explode. Stopping was better than doing that. But he knew he couldn’t hold off much longer, either. And he could feel her tensing all over, practically shaking now, whimpering and begging him to be able to come.
“I’m gonna fucking fill you up, pretty girl. Do you wanna feel?” he asked as he drove into her deeper and harder, his hips snapping erratically as his mouth latched onto her neck, leaving a line of bites and bruises in his wake. Cherie moaned as her orgasm rushed through her, leaving her shaking and whimpering, rocking her hips against his thrusts greedily, gasping for air as she clung to him. Xavier fucked her through her orgasm and right into his own, the tightness of her cunt as it encased his length driving him right over the edge before he could stop. “Fuck… Fuck… here it comes.” he groaned as his cock throbbed, rope after rope of his sticky hot seed seeping into her deep, their juices puddling beneath them on the bed. He flopped down behind her, pulling her partially on top of him, raking his hand through her hair to push it back out of her eyes as he pulled her into a lazy yawn filled kiss.
“Sun’s comin up.” he muttered quietly, chuckling when she swore under her breath but then cuddled against him completely and muttered through a yawn, “Fuck it. I’m too lazy to give a damn what that overbearing woman could possibly have to say when she realizes I’m not in my bed.”
“That’s the spirit, doll. Just stay here with me a little longer.”
#xavier plympton fanfiction#xavier plympton fanfic#xavier plympton fic#xavier plympton oneshot#xavier plympton imagine#xavier plympton imagines#// fourseasonsofsm*tselfchallenge#// tw: body fluids#// tw unprotected s*x#// tw drug mention#// tw biting#// tw s*xual content
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Spill your heart out about Walter.
Okay so I basically got this question in what, January?? but I’m answering it now since I just rewatched the movie and have inspiration, sorry for the late reply Anon
Okay so, to start off this post with some keyboard smashing because that my primary go-to for expressing my emotions
sgklhfsgjksdlgdghkjlgjhOHUFLUSKHDGSLIDRGKJGKFSDHGlhjglksdhkglshglllllfa. knjcthxiudhusmnvsoidhéytbvonjyxclkkvbr. haeylicfvshdkgikc
HANDSOME BOY. HANDSOME. ‘NUFF SAID.
I could legit stare all day at his beautiful face… look at him. Enchanting sky blue eyes… fluffy, wavy brown hair, cute round cheeks, lovely smile… those hidden freckles that you can hardly spot and only in certain screenshots but nevertheless they’re there to raise the cuteness factor… ALSO HIS LASHES. MAYBE IT’S NATURAL?? MAYBE IT’S MAYBELLINE?? WE SHALL NEVER KNOW
Here you may be able to spot the freckles if you squint hard enough. I have 77 screenshots but this is the best example I could find.
Secondly… well, he’s a sticc. A short sticc at that (though still slightly taller than me bc I’m smol), but a sticc regardless! And that seems to be the most attractive cartoon body type for me. Don’t judge me, I just have a thing for twinks, I’m… twinksexual or whatever.
Look at him! He would fit through my doorcrack.
(Maaaybe the reason for me liking sticcs so much is partially the fact that I like the idea of a boyfriend I can protect and support, physically and emotionally. I’m mad at the universe for not letting me scoop him up in my arms bridal style and smooch the HECK outta him.)
I’ve encountered a few posts that claimed he’s got cake but, come on. That concept has canonically been proven to be false, even by Lance. This man is flat and you can pry this opinion off my cold, dead hands.
Speaking of hands! I like his big ol hands. Nice shape. They look soft. I wanna hold them.
According to a DVD commentary, and the visual facts, he has no shoulders whatsoever. Back in Venice Killian was able to restrain him effortlessly with only one foot on his chest, even as he kept struggling ans squirming and generally put in as much effort as he possibly could. Before then, he claimed the database was the first thing he has ever caught in his life.
Conclusion, our boi’s very much NOT athletic. Which makes sense for a scientist, braining all day and stuff, and because he probably barely even eats, or sleeps which are by the way both pretty concerning implications but anyway.
STOP BEATING UP THIS POOR FRAGILE LAD FOR GOD’S SAKE. Makes me want to protect him even more. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you get what I mean.
Now, on to the actual reason I’m so head over heels for him, a.k.a his personality.
He is one of the sweetest, kindest, purest boy characters I have ever seen in fiction, if not THE number one himself. (All my other cinnamon roll crushes are, or have been a villain at some point and WILL resort to violence if provoked.) Look at him, his pacifism… is unbreakable. He’s dead set on making the world a better place, by peaceful ways, and helping humanity. If that’s not a quality to be cherished then IDK what is.
And he’s just such a refreshing character. He likes pink, K-dramas, glitter, kittens, things that aren’t traditionally “masculine” (but is never made fun of those things in particular in the movie) and I love that. Nothing’s sexier than a man who’s, despite society’s shitty standards, openly and unashamedly himself!
His femininity is, if anything, just another turn-on. (This didn’t intend to sound sexual… but oh well.) I love his little hand gestures and mannerisms, dorky ramblings, the way he says “yep” popping the “p” at the end, all the small yet significant traits that were incorporated into his character. Bless you, SiD creators, bless you.
Have I said that he’s a genius?? Which is pretty obvious but c’mon, he graduated at 15!! He can modify human genes!! He successfully turned a man into a pigeon on the first try!! (The serum wasn’t the first prototype but we can assume he didn’t experiment on living humans with the previous ones.) And he’s still just 20!! Like what is that if not hella fucking impressive???!??
His inventions, to the untrained eye, may seem “stupid” or “childish” but alas! The observer couldn’t be more wrong! Because despite the odd designs and themes they’re all highly effective, as we have witnessed in the battle against Killian. And he is extremely creative for coming up with such ideas! Told you he’s brilliant!!
Which makes me all the sadder about how much they underappreciated him at the agency. In his words, nobody ever listened to him, or gave him a chance. They just left him and his “weird” ideas next to the men’s bathroom and called it a day. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they see the potential in his inventions? Oh well. Maybe I’m just being a smartass bc I have more knowledge, living outside that universe. But I’m totally right.
And I was honestly ready to throw hands with Lance for hurting the boi even further. (I’d stand no chance whatsoever, but still.)
Oh no baby please don’t cry.
He did cry in that scene though… you could see a tear rolling down his cheek and if it wasn’t for the machine beeping… He did have a pretty rough day afterall. But HEY, if we dwell on it too much the scene loses its comedic effect!! A guy gets sad over a stupid soap opera, har har har!! Now let’s move on, keep it fast and snappy for the kids, don’t let them overthink it!! Can’t have any emotional breakdowns onscreen. Keep it lighthearted y’know. Then let’s kill a random side character and have our dear protagonist almost die twice.
(Well jokes on you Blue Sky! I’m no kid, but a devoted fangirl who can and will overthink any material of my fictional faves at any given opportunity.)
You know what else I love about him though?? His love for animals!! And pigeons, especially Lovey!! He loves her so much, gives her gluten free breadcrumbs, nuzzles her, the first thing he does when he finds out Lance can talk to the pigeons is ask if she loves him too!! Like… That’s so pure and wholesome.
This here. THIS RIGHT HERE. BROTP forever.
(Not gonna lie, I used to be crazy for pigeons for like, an entire year or something. Not as in looking up all the facts there are about pigeons as I do nowadays with cartoons, but I’d feed them regularly and write my little observations on their behaviors. Did you know they sometimes scratch their neck with their leggies like dogs do?)
I think I’ve summed up mostly everything I love about this nerd. Oh wait, almost forgot the sass!! I love how sassy and smug he can be sometimes, in like, a really harmless way but it’s still a very nice characteristic.
Since I’ve ran out of coherent things to say, here’s an incomplete list of things I want to do to Walter Beckett. Put at the end of this post so those of you who were only here for the analysis part and not the selfshippy gushing don’t have to read further:
kiss he
like seriously
just kiss he a whole lot
cover his whole face in kisses
one kiss for each of his freckles. a finishing kiss onto the tip of his nose. then repeat the cycle
hug him. hug him like the world is ending. hug him so tight he can barely breathe
then ofc let go and apologize bc I would never hurt him on purpose
cuddle him
hold him close, let him lay his head on my chest
run my fingers through his hair
listen to his breathing
discover that he’s fallen asleep on me and smile fondly, then soon drift off to sleep myself so we can wake up entangled in eachother the next morning
fuck he
pin him to a wall and snog he
make him go cherry red
fluster he
compliment him. praise him. appreciate him. he’s a prince, a hero, an angel, a wonderful human being and he needs to know this
feed pigeons together
listen to his scientific ramblings and bird facts
write him love letters and give them to him. maybe read it aloud myself if I’m feeling brave so I can see his reaction in real time
serenade he
be the love of his life, and have him be mine
just… soft things, man
cook something for this malnourished sticc
make him small handmade gifts
they’re nothing like his gadgets but I tried
draw he
have him be my muse in general
not like he isn’t now but it would be lovely if he was real too
carry him bridal style
be the feral cryptid that lurks in his house when he isn’t around
sing along to cheesy pop-song together really badly
watch cheesy rom coms
flirt with eachother clumsily until we’re both laughing at our awkwardness
or, alternatively, shower him with compliments until he literally cannot handle it
have sleepovers together
give him hand kisses
be of emotional support
#picpost#fangirl#walter beckett#F/O#didn't plan to make an entire essay#though on the other hand I exactly knew this would happen
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