#it’s usually when I’m doing new things
Text
The Three Commandments
The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.
Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And
The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.
1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say
What’s your book about?
I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?
The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).
Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)
Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?
2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment
Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.
Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.
Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.
The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.
But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.
If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.
3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting
This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.
“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?
Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?
If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.
Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?
Hopefully these can help you, too.
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3
ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k
“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.”
“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.”
“I understand, but–”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.”
You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?
“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself.
The door opens while you’re looking through your bag.
“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?”
You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.”
“Did you call them?”
Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden.
Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull.
“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks.
You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top.
Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ?
“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly.
You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.”
“We really don’t have time to waste.”
“I know, but my blood sugar–”
She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”
“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”
“Clearly not!”
“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.”
The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed.
You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.”
If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.”
Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?”
“You want to chew it for me?” you ask.
He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.”
He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick.
“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.
“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth.
He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut.
In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?”
You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.”
“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?”
“No,” you say apologetically.
“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.”
Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”
“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”
“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.
“How did you get so low?” he asks.
“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?”
“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.”
“Don’t usually get so dizzy.”
“When was the last time you were below seventy?”
“Don’t know,” you mumble.
Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?”
He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke.
You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard.
By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her.
You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.”
“I understand.”
You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.
He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.”
“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble.
He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.”
“What do I get in return?”
He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
737 notes
·
View notes
Text
numbers up: sim jaeyun
part three of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist
pairing: jake x afab!reader
word count: 15.3k
synopsis: with the imposter ghost face on the loose and your life being threatened, jake makes preparations to keep you safe and track down the copycat. you also make preparations with the heads of the film and investigation departments to bring down the imposter. trust no one and remember…everyone is a suspect.
genre: established relationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.
warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane (as always), blood & m*rder, dry humping, reader gets stabbed, multiple unprotected sex scenes, shower sex, hair pulling, if I missed everything please let me know!
You’ve never seen Jake this paranoid before, or well, paranoid ever. Paranoia wasn’t an emotion Jake had ever had to feel and deal with, that was until you. Until this copycat ghost face made threats to your life and drove Jake to hold you close and always double-check over his shoulder.
That phone call made Jake scared—truly, genuinely, scared. Which was another emotion he’d never felt. Jake usually lived on the thrill of it all. The thrill of someday being caught by law enforcement. The thrill of someone finding out his identity and challenging him. But he has you now. You changed everything.
Which drove him to make this decision. To move himself and you across town into another apartment, leaving everything behind.
You sat on the brand new couch you and Jake just finished moving up the stairs and into your new apartment, looking up at him on the ladder he stood on, drilling the new security system and camera into the corner of the living room.
Your eyes wandered around your new home, to all the boxes and new furniture and new bags of clothing. You thought Jake was joking when he mentioned moving out and leaving every single thing in your old apartment behind. He clearly wasn’t.
Jake paid for everything, the new lease for this apartment. Bought you and him new phones that had new numbers on a completely different phone plan than your previous ones. New bank accounts. New laptops, new emails, and new tablets. Books, journals, clothes, cameras, watches, literally everything. Jake even ditched his previous car and got a new one. Jake’s paranoia wasn’t a joke, and he fully went through with everything.
He even tried to convince you to move into another town, hell a new country even, but you refused. The two of you were way too close to finishing your majors to just up and leave. You had duties here, the major one being to catch the imposter ghost face. It surprised you at the desperation Jake had to up and leave this life behind, all in the name of keeping you safe.
Jake glanced down at you for a split second, seeing how you took in the new apartment. The blank stare on your face as you looked over every inch of this place. It hurt Jake, honestly. Up and dropping his old life wasn’t easy on him either. But it was all for you. For you, he’d do anything. That’s why he buckled and agreed to stay at the same college and town. He truly wanted to catch the imposter as much as you, but nothing was more important than keeping you alive. Keeping that pretty blood of yours flowing through your veins and keeping that heart beating. Jake wouldn’t know what he would do if something happened to you, and he honestly didn’t want to find out.
He finished screwing in the last screw of the new security system and let out a sigh. He glanced back down at you to already see you staring back up at him, “What’s up, honey?”
You softly pouted, debating if you wanted to ask the question that’s been making circles in your brain, “Where did you get all this money from? To do all this?” guess you decided to ask it anyway.
Jake leaned on the ladder, smirking down at you, “I’m a serial killer, baby, you think I didn’t save money up in case something like this happened?”
You figured that was what his answer would be and you didn’t want to admit you were terrified that he went and robbed a bank or random people. Or stolen from his victims. Jake did have a job, way before you even met him. He saved up every penny from each paycheck into a savings account that wasn’t connected to his main account and was under a different name. Jake wasn’t stupid to keep all his money in his main account. It would raise way too many red flags. That account wasn’t just his money from his job, but from earnings he got growing up. Money from birthdays or when his parents felt like handing him money. He would use some of that money to donate to charity, to make that bank account look less suspicious.
You shrugged up at him, and made yourself comfy on the couch, laying down and stretching out. Jake climbed down from the ladder and walked to your side, “What are you thinking about, my love?”
You sighed, staring into those beautiful brown killer eyes, “That I want to catch whoever is making our lives difficult.”
Jake smiled, climbing onto the couch and laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “We’ll catch them, don’t worry baby,” he placed a few kisses to your neck, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, “And once we do, we’ll have a guaranteed spot in our respective fields after graduation.”
You knew he was right. If the two of you managed to catch the imposter you would no doubt have no problems getting your detective jobs. It would be so easy and the town would be stupid to not give you and Jake those positions. You sigh then, realizing that once the imposter is caught, they would be trialed for every crime they have committed—including Jake’s.
Jake and you never discussed it, about what would happen to whoever it was behind the ghost face mask and what crimes they would go to trial for. But deep down, you knew they would take the hit for both theirs and Jake’s. It only made sense. You refused to let Jake go down. You needed him. You’d…kill for him.
His kisses on your neck deepened, his teeth nibbling at the skin and tongue licking up your neck. His hand now made its way up to your breast, squeezing the plush between his fingers.
You softly moaned, tilting your head to give him more access to you. Your eyes fluttered closed and back open, spotting Jake’s duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen.
“Thought you were going to get rid of that?” you asked with a shaky breath, too deep in the pleasure of his touch to sound serious.
Jake chucked against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps and chills down your body, “I will tonight baby,” he pressed his hips to yours, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your heat. He removed his face from your neck and brushed his lips against yours, “How about we stop talking and break into the new couch, shall we?” His hand slid from your breast to the band of your shorts, slipping his hand inside, “Have to make sure the couch won’t break from how hard I am about to pound into you.”
You pushed his duffle bag off to the back of your mind and embraced his lips to yours.
Needless to say, the couch indeed held up from the rough sex Jake gave you.
—
Jake dropped the duffle bag to the ground with a sigh leaving his mouth. He pulled the matches from his back pocket, debating if this was something he even wanted to do. But it wasn’t up for debate, he knew it. This was for you. All for you and the future he wants and will have with you.
Plus he didn’t travel out to this small shitty countryside town for nothing.
Jake has traveled here before to take care of some…things. He knew the town and knew how easily he could slip in and out without a trace.
The town had a small farmer's market and an alleyway where they kept barrels of hay to sell to customers for their farm animals. Jake was in luck to see one was still here and had enough hay in it to catch fire.
He pulled a match from the box, striking the red tip to the side, watching how the flames rose and lit up the alleyway then tossed it into the barrel. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread.
Jake looked back down at the duffle, kneeling down and opening the bag, his ghost face mask staring right back at him. He smirked, rubbing his fingers over the curves of the mask, “It’s been a hell of a ride.”
Without another thought, Jake tossed the black cloak, gloves, and then the duffle bag into the barrel. He took one final look at the mask before tossing it in.
Jake didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the barrel, watching the flames tear a part of him into pieces. He wasn’t sad, no no, he stood there with a smirk on his wash, watching how the white of the mask burnt and crumbled away. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his crazy smile only growing wider.
He finally walked away, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, “I’ve always loved playing with fire.”
—
“Absolutely not!” Jake said with a stern voice, his eyes glaring at you over the top of his laptop.
You shift your weight to one side, crossing your arms, “You know I am the head of the journalism department, right?”
Jake raises a brow at you, “Okay, and?”
You thin your lips in a line, narrowing your eyes, “Excuse you?”
Danielle sat diagonally from Jake to his left, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two of you, “I hate seeing mom and dad fight…” she whispered before standing up quickly, “I’m going to head to my next class…” without another word, Danielle slowly walked out of the office.
Jake waited until the door fully closed before darting his eyes back to his laptop screen, “I said no, end of discussion.”
You understood Jake’s worry, you really did. But without the other department's help, you wouldn’t catch the imposter. Earlier this morning, the dean of your college sent you an offer to pair up with the film and investigation departments to cover more ground for the ghost face cases. It would benefit you to have that help so it’s not just on your and Jake’s shoulders. Mostly with the recent cases.
The imposter went on a killing spree over the course of a week, killing six students on campus, and two random strangers on the street on the edge of town. That’s EIGHT victims within a WEEK. What made these cases so major was the imposter started leaving specific items at each crime scene, clearly in a way to taunt Jake. Another ghost face mask was found at one scene, then a glove at another. The cloak was found at the next crime. A pair of bloody shoes at the next, the exact same knife type Jake has used was found at another. Then another ghost face mask. The other crimes were repeats of gloves and other items. The case was growing bigger and becoming too much for just you and Jake to handle, so when the dean gave you that offer…
“Well, I already said yes, so…” you hummed, not taking your eyes off your boyfriend.
Jake chuckled, “Well, again, I said no. Cancel it, tell them you changed your mind,” He didn’t look up from the screen, typing something. You roll your eyes, slamming the laptop closed. Jake glared at you, “You’re on thin ice, honey.”
You placed your hands flat on the table, leaning towards him but still being far enough away, “I run this department and you’ll deal with this choice whether you like it or not, understand?” he narrowed his eyes at you, “And you can look at me like that all you want, I’m not scared of you Jake.”
You lifted yourself off from the table, barely turning to face away from him before he was on his feet and in front of you, hands on your waist and lifting you onto the table. He pushed between your legs and brushed his lips against your ear, his hands now flat on the table on either side of you, “It turns me on when you talk like that to me, baby,” he rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear, “It’s so fucking hot when you put me in my place.”
He kisses your neck, one hand lifting to the other side to tilt your head, giving him more access, “It’s all true though,” you mumble, barely being able to get the words out.
Jake chuckles against your skin, pressing his growing hard length to your cunt, “I could kill you at any moment, honey, don’t forget who I am.”
You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at you, “You wouldn’t,” you smirked, moving your face inches away from his, noses touching, “I don’t care who you are, Jake Sim, you can’t live without me.”
Jake smirks, pushing his tongue past his lips and licking a stripe against yours then taking your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft pull before releasing it. It was true, he couldn’t live without you. “Keep running your pretty mouth and I’ll take you right here on this table.” He bucked his hips against yours, brushing his lips over yours, “I’d fuck you so nice and slow and hard,” he whispered then connected his lips to yours.
You don’t know how much time has passed, but Jake had pulled you to the edge of the table, rocking his clothed hard cock against your heat in a slow but hard motion, his hands running up and down your back as his tongue pressed in and out of your mouth. Jake was so ready to unbuckle his belt and tear your jeans apart to feel that sweet pussy of yours wrapped around him, that was until a knock on the door sounded, and the door was opening.
Jake dropped his face into your neck, backing his lower half away from you and releasing a groan, “Did I interrupt something?”
You quickly push Jake away and drop to the floor, “No, Jay. Everything is fine.”
Jay stood in the crack of the door, his laptop in hand, eyes darting over to Jake, “Nice seeing you again, Sim.”
“Woof.”
Jay rolled his eyes, looking away from him and back at you, “Put your dog on a leash, ya?”
Jake took a few steps forward but you stepped in front of you, “Jake, we aren’t doing this,” you snapped, “Sit down, please.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off Jay as he pulled the chair out and sat down.
Jay smirked, letting a whistle escape his lips in a way of saying “Good dog.” Jake wanted to growl and bare his teeth and bark, showing him what kind of dog Jake could really be.
“Please, come in,” you said, waving your hand to the free seats, “Is Jungwon coming too?”
Jay was the head of the film department. His team mostly covered sports and weather, but occasionally would show up and film crimes, sending your department the footage later to write the articles and publish both to the campus’s website. Jungwon, Jay’s second, as if on command, popped out from behind him, carrying their camera, “I’m here, just fell behind.” You could tell the younger was nervous, giving him a small smile as he walked in and set the camera on the table.
Jake kept his eyes on Jay, studying his every movement. Not liking the way the blonde-haired male would look and smile at you. Jake was against teaming up with the other departments for more than just not wanting Jay around you. He didn’t trust him. Or anyone, for that matter. Jake didn’t care if having extra people around made finding the imposter easier, having these people around put you in danger.
You pinched Jake’s bicep, giving him a look to behave and relax. Jake just shrugs, leaning back in the chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him, resting his head on your hip. You ruffled his hair, loving how cute he looked as he scrunched his nose and batted your head out of his hair, fixing what you messed up. It still amazed you how this man was a serial killer. This soft puppy sitting in front of you was secretly insane and committed so many murders but was so soft when it came to you. It was cute, truly.
Another knock and the door slowly slid open, “Am I late to the party?”
You smiled, “Nope! Just in time.”
Heeseung slowly walked into the room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Good, was worried I might be.”
Lee Heeseung, the head of the investigation department. The poor guy was appointed the department head because the previous one was murdered last week…a victim of the imposter. You’ve met Heeseung a couple of times before, or well, have seen him a couple of times before. Anytime you went to the investigation office for results or photos of the crimes he always sat in the back with his lab coat and goggles over his glasses, as he worked on pieces of evidence the police department let the school borrow.
You could tell he was also nervous, but he had plenty of reasons to be. One was the daggers Jake was sending at him, second, the man was just appointed the department head after his was murdered, and lastly, this was his first major job as the head, having to completely take over the ghost face case and deal with you and Jay on top of it.
Heeseung sat down across from you and beside Jay, running a hand through his hair, “Sunoo should be here soon, he was printing off some extra photos from the murders a few days ago.”
You nodded, finally sitting down beside Jake, “It’s nice to finally talk to you,” you said, leaning your elbows onto the table, “You were always so busy in your little corner anytime I was on that side of the campus.”
Heeseung smiled, “Yeah, I’m in my own little world sometimes. You could probably have imagined my surprise when I was picked to fill in the shoes. I basically had to beg Sunoo to be my second for these cases.”
Sunoo you’ve worked with a few times before, he was shy but such a beautiful ray of sunshine. Had a sparkling personality and always brightened the room with his smile. He was super smart and would make a killer investigator one day.
Jake listened as you, Jay, Jungwon, and Heeseung spoke back and forth. Eyeing their movements and facial expressions, noticing how Jay and Heeseung kept their eyes on you a little too long. Jake knew you were the department head and they were more than likely just being respectful, but Jake couldn’t forget the crush Jay has on you, or clock out Heeseung was basically undressing you with his eyes.
Or maybe Jake was just getting jealous he had to share you with other people. That was probably it.
Sunoo finally showed up, handing everyone their own folders of the photos. Jay opened his laptop up, connected the camera then blue toothing the laptop to the projector in the office to show footage they’ve taken along with footage from the security cameras around campus. You passed along articles and pulled the corkboard out.
Hours passed as the six of you discussed the cases and exchanged information each department had. It surprised you how calm Jake was for the most part. Only getting sassy during specific topics. Jake was all-knowing of ghost face for his specific cases, knowing next to nothing about the imposter.
The meeting finally came to an end and you were very much ready to go home and take a warm shower.
Jake and Jay sat at the table still discussing one of the murders, meanwhile, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung prepared to leave.
You held the door open for them, thanking Jungwon and Sunoo for attending, ready to do the same for Heeseung but he stopped in front of you. Jake clocked it immediately.
“Thank you for welcoming us into your space,” Heeseung said with a tilt of his head, “It was finally nice getting to work with you.” Heeseung was trying to keep himself calm, shoving his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see how badly he was shaking. He found you extremely cute and incredibly smart. He was blown away at today's meeting because of you.
“Likewise,” you smiled at him, “Hopefully this partnership does all of us some good and we catch this ghost face.”
Heeseung pushed his glasses back up, “We are the department heads for a reason, we’ll catch them.”
Jay noticed how clocked out Jake was, pulling his eyes over to you and Heeseung, “You going to bark at him like you did to me?” Jay teased.
“Just might fuck her in front of both of you so you’ll be reminded who she belongs to.”
Jay rolled his eyes, “She’s allowed to have friends, you know.”
Yeah, she is, just not friends with males who want to fuck her and look at her like I do. Only I can look at her like that. Only I can fuck her. Point blank.
Jay signed, crossing his arms, “Listen, Heeseung is a good guy, a little shy, but he’s new to this, don’t bark at him.”
Jake patted Jay’s shoulder, “Okay, buddy,” and with that, Jake was walking towards you.
Heeseung pulled his phone from his back pocket, “I was thinking since we are all working together, we can exchange phone numbers,” he smiled awkwardly, his glasses falling down his nose and him quickly pushing them up, “We can have a group chat as well.”
Before you could answer, Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, “We don’t exchange numbers.”
Right…because you both had to get new phone numbers. No one had your new numbers, not even Sunghoon. “Everyone is a suspect,” Jake said once you got your new phones, “trust no one.”
Heeseung glanced over at Jake, “I’m n-not trying to steal her or anything,” he stuttered, “I just figured it would be easier for us to contact each other so we aren’t running across campus.”
Jake smiled, “We can exchange school emails and our school chat IDs, that should be good enough, ya?”
Heeseung looked at you and all you could do was shrug, apologizing with your eyes.
“Jay,” Jake called, “Come over here, the four of us are going to exchange chat IDs.”
You knew Jake was doing this to protect you and him. He wasn’t going to just hand over your phone numbers that easily. He was playing smart, having to be one step ahead in this game he’s playing with the imposter. The chat IDs were Jake’s only plan to not make it seem suspicious completely, mostly since the IDs were from the college and connected to the college emails. Your numbers were safe.
You all exchanged the IDs and made the group chat, Jay saying he’d add Jungwon later and Heeseung agreeing to the same for Sunoo.
Once the boys left, Jake slid the door closed and locked it, staring at you with hooded eyes, “I’m fucking you on this table like I said earlier.”
You giggled as Jake picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the table. Jealousy was cute on him.
—
You tied red strings around the pushpins on the corkboard and then took a few steps back, resting your body against the kitchen counter. You crossed your arms and let your eyes wander the board. Stopping at each photo of the imposter's crime scenes, and at each item they have left. Looked at the school’s articles and the official news articles that were pinned by each photo. Your laptop sat on the kitchen table, replaying the videos Jay filmed and was kind enough to send to you.
Trying to wrap your mind around these cases was making your brain hurt. Mostly since Jake was stuck at soccer practice for the next couple of hours, you’ve been taking this head on by yourself.
You rubbed your fingers to your temples, needing a much-needed break. So you splash some water on your face from the kitchen sink and gently dab your face with a towel. You pulled a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, sat on the couch, and propped your feet onto the coffee table. The apartment was quiet and you honestly hated it, wishing Jake’s laughter was echoing off these walls. Jake hasn’t left your side since all this bullshit started happening and the only time he wasn’t with you was his soccer practice. You always offered to go with him and sit in the bleachers, but he always refused. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. He barely was able to focus when you were at the apartment alone, but he knew you’d at least be safer there than at the campus. You’re just instructed to not leave the apartment at all if he wasn’t with you. Which was fair. Jake was able to hold his own because ya know, being a serial killer and all. But you? You were barely a challenge for Jake when he had you pinned to the floor and a knife to your throat after you figured out he was the ghost face. You could barely dominate Jake in the bedroom, he could hold his own. You?? Ehh.
You finished the apple and water, threw away the trash, and got back to work. You sat at the table, flipping through more photos Heeseung sent over and rereading some of the articles Danielle had written. The more you look over everything, the more your brain hurts and that small break did nothing. You sigh, reaching for your backpack in the chair beside you, digging for the documents and articles Jake has created and written, only to not find them there.
“That’s fantastic,” you mumbled, standing from the table and walking to the bedroom, finding Jake’s backpack on the floor by the closet. You bent down and opened it up, digging through his textbooks and folders but not finding the one you were looking for, “Fuck!” you sat on the floor, covering your face with your hands, “This is so fantastic.”
You wanted to call your boyfriend, but you knew he was busy with practice and wouldn’t answer. But you doubt he would even have the articles to begin with. You shot back to his backpack, thinking hopefully his laptop would be in there and sure enough, it wasn’t. Meaning he left it in the office on campus, where the extra copies of the articles would more than likely be. You debate leaving the apartment, knowing you shouldn’t and Jake would be pissed off if he finds out…but he would be gone for hours and wouldn’t even know you left unless he checks the camera footage in the apartment. You tuck your lip between your teeth, ultimately deciding to leave. You’d be there and back before Jake even returned home.
You slipped on your shoes and threw on a hoodie, pulling the hood tightly and comfortably over your head and double checking the door was locked before rushing down the stairs and making your way to campus. Thankfully it wasn’t a far walk.
You quickly made it to the campus, unlocking the door to the office and closing it behind you. The campus was empty and quiet, being that it was the weekend. Made it perfectly for you to slip in and out quicker. Jake’s laptop sat on the table in his spot, just like you figured it would be along with the folder of the copies sitting on top of it. You grabbed both and hurried back out of the office, locking the doors.
You made it to the first floor of the building when your phone started ringing. Your heart sank. He’s going to be so mad. You pulled your phone from your shorts pocket, expecting to see Jake’s name on the screen but instead seeing Unknown Caller. You tucked your lip between your teeth, locking the phone to ignore it. It’s probably just some spam call. You walked out of the building's doors, your phone ringing and the same caller ID popping up.
You looked around the campus, not seeing anyone in sight. You dismiss the call, taking two steps down and your phone rings again with the same ID. You quickly dismiss it and with shaky hands, you dial Jake’s number.
The caller you are trying to reach is unavaila—
“Shit!” you curse, redialing the number and getting the same message.
Fear filled you, hands trembling as you stared at your boyfriend's number then the screen showing the ID calling again.
You locked your phone and quickly went down the rest of the steps, making it halfway away from the building and parking lot when your phone once again rang. You stopped walking, looked around the campus, and finally answered the phone.
“Hello, YN,”
You gripped your phone as it was pressed to your ear, “Hello, imposter.”
“It’s been a while since I last spoke to Jake.” they chuckled, “I wonder why that is?”
“Yeah, crazy.” you whipped around behind you, looking back at the building you came from, then turned back towards the parking lot and looked at the buildings beyond it.
“Isn’t it rude to change your numbers without telling anyone? Jake must have been desperate. Mostly after the very attractive photos I’ve taken of you at your…old apartment.”
You swallowed. Whoever this was, they knew your numbers had changed and that you moved. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone near only to find no one.
“What do you want?” you asked, starting to quickly walk again.
“Like I told Jake, you’ll know soon enough.”
You scoff, picking up your pace.
“Where are you going in such a hurry, YN?” You stopped walking again, heart nearly stopping, “Don’t you know it’s rude…”
You had a bad feeling, body shaking and trembling, “Rude that what?” you asked, but then the line hung up.
You barely had time to realize what was about to happen. They had their arm wrapped around your neck and their knife piercing the skin at your waist just above your rib cage.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you?”
You tilted your head to the side and up, seeing the ghost face mask you were all too familiar with.
You swallowed again, trying to form words but nothing came out but gasps.
Jake slouched against the bleachers, taking his towel and wiping the sweat from his face and hair. Sunghoon sat down beside him, “Practice was hell today.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “I’m ready to go home.”
Sunghoon glanced over at his best friend, “You still not going to tell me where you both moved off to? Or your new number?”
Jake sat still, not looking at his friend, “I have my reasons.”
Sunghoon moved closer, “Did something happen? Jake, this isn’t like you.”
Jake wanted to snap at him that he didn’t know anything about him besides what Jake allowed him to see. He loved Sunghoon, truly did. But with the imposter…he couldn’t trust anyone. Not when his girlfriend's life was on the line.
“Let’s just say it’s a long story, one you’ll know soon enough.” Jake hoped he would accept it and leave it alone. And thank god he did.
Sunghoon sighed and just stood up, “Time to head home, see ya tomorrow?”
Jake stands up too, reaching out for his friend's hand, “Yep, see ya at the skating rink at two pm.”
Sunghoon took his hand, “Make sure YN joins too!” he said as he walked away.
Jake nodded and picked up his bag, heading for the changing room.
Once he was out of his sweaty soccer clothes and cleaned himself and in cleaner clothes, he left the locker room, finally pulling his phone from his duffle, seeing your few missed calls. Jake waited until he was in his car and heading back home before calling you back. The line didn’t even ring and went straight to voicemail. Jake raised a brow, “Okay, weird.” He redialled your number, and it once again went straight to voicemail.
Jake at this point was parked at the apartment, calling you one more time, it rang twice and then ended. Jake quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs, stumbling with his keys to unlock the door and stepping inside.
“YN!” he yelled, seeing the apartment in one piece and no sign of forced entry. He rushed to the bedroom, still not seeing you. “YN!!” he shouted, still no answer.
Jake was starting to panic. It wasn’t like you to ignore his calls. To leave without telling him or to even just leave. He paced around the living room, pulling up the camera footage on his phone, and seeing you leave the apartment.
“Goddamn this woman!” he bite his tongue, redialing your number once again, “Fucking pick up…please god let her pick up…”
Your phone rang again, and you didn’t have to look at it to know it was Jake.
“Kind of rude to keep ignoring your boyfriend’s calls, isn’t it? Answer it.”
You took a deep breath, feeling your knees going weak, continuing to ignore the imposter.
“I said fucking answer it!” he yelled into your ear, pushing the knife in further.
You grunted out in pain, praying someone was on campus to witness what was happening to you. It was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, where was everyone?
You didn’t want to answer the call. Didn’t want Jake to hear what he was about to. Didn’t want the imposter to kill you and have Jake hear it. You knew what Jake would do…
The imposter hisses and pulls your back to their chest, removing their arm from your neck and reaching for your phone, accepting the call and putting it on speaker.
Jake nearly dropped to his knees at hearing the call answer, “YN!” he snapped, “Where the fuck are you?!”
“Hello, Jake.”
Jake’s heart stopped, almost stumbling to the floor before catching himself on the kitchen counter, jaw clenching at the sound of the voice changer, “Where is she?”
The imposter chuckled, “Right here in front of me, say hi, honey,”
Jake tensed at hearing the imposter use the pet name he’d given you, using it as a taunt.
“It’s rude to not say hello to your boyfriend, don’t you think?”
They pushed the knife in further, you gasped in pain.
Jake was already out the door at the sound of your pained gasp, “I swear to god if you—“
“If I what, Jake Sim?” he taunted, “If I kill her? What will you do?”
Jake ran a head through his hair, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.”
They laughed, “Sounds about right coming from a serial killer.”
Your moans filled Jake’s ears, the way you were gasping for air…he needed to get to you. Jake placed the call on speaker and with shaky hands opened the app he installed to find your location, “That makes two of us doesn’t it?” he said, stalling time to find your location, finally pinpointing you at the school.
“I know you’re stalling, Jake,” they whispered, “To find our location.”
Jake snarled, “What do you want?”
Silence, and then, “To see you suffer.”
They pulled the knife out of your side and shoved it back in, creating another wound. Your cries filled Jake’s ear and now he was sprinting to the school.
Your body was shaking, feeling your blood pool out of your skin and down your body and to the sidewalk, “You look even prettier with your blood leaking out,” they laughed, “Jake might be too late.”
Jake ran faster, “Leave her alone!” he screamed completely out of breath.
“Goodbye, Jake Sim.”
Then the call ended.
The imposter tossed your phone off to the side, twisting the knife deeper, pulling it out and back in, making another wound.
Your hands became weak, letting go of the laptop and folder in your hand, dropping to the ground beside you. Your head flung forward, too dizzy from your blood loss to stay upright anymore. You barely felt the knife being removed from your body and their hands letting you go.
You fell, your temple hitting the edge of the sidewalk, blurring your vision even more. The imposter knelt beside you, lifting the knife and wiping your blood on their cloak, the black sleeve falling down, revealing a watch at their wrist. They chuckled, staring at the now clean knife, “It was fun, YN, this time we spent together today.” You stared at the mask through your blurred vision, watching as they stood and walked away. Leaving you to bleed out.
You blinked a couple of times, too weak to try and move, eyes looking up at the blue sky. This was it. This was your end. You thought about Jake and how you wanted to feel his touch, hear his voice. Kiss his lips for the last time. You felt your heart slowing down. It would be any minute now.
“YN!!” you heard from a distance but muffled. “YN!!” it was closer now, still muffled. You closed your eyes and then felt hands on you, “YN, baby, please open your eyes.”
It was Jake. He was here.
You forced your eyes open, barely being able to keep them open for long, but it was enough to see him leaning over you, tears filling his eyes.
Jake pulled you off the sidewalk and into his arms, resting your head on his chest, panicking at the wound on your head, “Oh my god, baby, please speak to me, keep your eyes open.” His warm hand wiped the dripping blood from your face, starting to rock back and forth, “YN, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay baby? Say something to me. I am right here.”
You fluttered your eyes open, but closed them again, opening your mouth to speak, but only gasps coming out.
Jake saw your blood staining your hoodie, carefully lifting the fabric to see three stab wounds and the blood that continued to pool out. Jake pressed his hand to the wounds as hard as he could, feeling you jolt against him, “Shh, I know baby,” he cried, the tears finally falling, panic rising more and his rocks becoming faster, “I am so sorry my love, please stay with me. Hey, open your eyes please, YN. I can’t live without you, please.” You were fading, you knew it. Jake’s cries became more muffled and everything went black.
—
Your eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a heart monitor echoing in what you were assuming was a hospital room. The last thing you remembered was hearing Jake’s screams before passing out. You looked down at your body, seeing all the IVs connecting to the veins in your arms and the hospital band around your wrist. You looked to your right, seeing the hospital door boarded up with chairs. You looked to your left, seeing Jake sleeping soundly against your bed in the chair he pulled up close. His hair had fallen over his eyes, lips parted slightly, hearing his breathing. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was under his head.
You swallowed, feeling how dry your throat was. You tried to sit up, but Jake felt you shift on the bed, waking him up. He slowly sat up and stood to his feet, standing closer to you and cupping your face, “YN, honey, how are you feeling?”
You blinked a few times, once again trying to sit up, “I’m thirsty,” you said, struggling to speak.
“Here, hold onto me so we can sit you up, okay?” Jake rested his hands under her arms and you gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, pulling as he used his strength to help you shift up, “Be careful,” he whispered.
Once you were sitting up, Jake helped balance you so he could raise the head of the bed and then help you lean back. He adjusted your pillows helping you feel more comfortable.
“Thirsty,” you said with a raspy voice.
Jake nodded, cupping your face once again, and rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. His eyes glossed over, trying hard to not let the tears fall again, you were okay. You were safe and alive and breathing. You were here with him. He glanced up at the bandage atop your head, “Does your head hurt?”
You nodded, the pain in your head and your waist fully kicking in, “Both do.”
Jake placed a kiss on your forehead then went to the bedside table, grabbing the bottled water and the pain meds the doctors said to give you once you woke up, “Here, my love.”
He handed you the meds and water. You swallowed to the best of your ability and chugged down the water, handing the bottle back to him. He set it back to the table and sat back down in the chair, pulling it closer.
You stared back at him, watching as he reached for your hand, his fingers twisting at each of yours, before finally clasping his hand with yours, the other covering the top of your hand, “What do you remember?” he softly asked, trying to keep his breathing steady.
“Everything,” you sighed, looking away from him and to the door, “Was that necessary?”
“Of course it was,” he scoffed, “I’m not risking you getting hurt again. Trust no one.”
You tilted your head at your boyfriend, reaching up with your free hand and cupping his face. Jake leaned into your touch, eyes getting glossy again.
“I was scared I lost you.” Jake didn’t ever want to feel what he felt ever again. Seeing you almost lifeless on the sidewalk, your skin cold and your blood staining the grass and concrete. He screamed as loud as he could until finally another student came out of nowhere and called an ambulance. He didn’t leave your side. He paced the halls back and forth at your room until the doctors came out saying you were stable and your wounds were stitched up and bandaged. “I don’t want to ever go through that again.”
You slid your hand down to his shirt collar, pulling him towards you, or well attempting to. You were still too weak, but Jake knew what you wanted. So he carefully stood and inched his face closer to yours, pressing his lips to yours.
He kissed you a couple more times, then sat back down, “What were you doing at the campus?” he finally asked, “I told you to stay home.”
You softly smiled, “I wanted to get your laptop and the articles you wrote.”
Jake sighed, looking down at the bed, “Baby, I had a flash drive at home in the drawer.”
You felt stupid, not even thinking he had other backups, “I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes.
“Shhh, no,” he said, cupping your face, “Don’t cry, it's okay, I am not mad. I was worried about you.” Jake was more than worried. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he would have done if he found you dead. He’d probably hunt down the imposter, get revenge for what he did to you, and then kill himself. This world wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t living in it.
You leaned into his face, kissing the palm of his hand, “I shouldn’t have left.”
Jake just smiles at you, “Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish.”
So you did. Giving him every detail possible.
—
“YN,” Jake sighs, pushing your hands off him, “You need rest.”
All Jake did was come into the bedroom to check on you and give you the pain meds the doctors prescribed to you and you didn’t waste a chance to jump his bones.
You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes and pouting. Jake smiles and tilts his head at you, “Stop pouting and take your meds.”
It’s been a week since the incident. A week of laying in this bed and Jake taking care of you while also doing what he could to piece together and solve the imposter ghost face cases. The imposter has been quiet since you encountered him, no phone calls to either yours or Jake’s phone, or even any more murders. Whoever they were, they weren’t radio silent.
Except for Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jay of course. Sunghoon arrived at the hospital after hearing the rumors being spread around campus of Jake crying and screaming for help because you were hurt. Heeseung and Jay spammed the group chats you all had for the investigation, asking if you needed anything and of course Jake answering for you saying no.
Sunghoon now officially knew where the two of you lived, Jake forcing—and threatening—him to keep his mouth about the location of the apartment and to never come over unless he was told to. Sunghoon finally understood now why Jake was being the way he was, all to protect you.
“I’ve been resting for a week,” you scoffed with a click of your tongue, “I can walk perfectly fine and even use the bathroom and shower on my own.”
Jake blankly stares back at you, refusing to answer until you take the water and medicine from his hand. So you did, swallowing the pills down with the water. You set the water bottle down on the nightstand, glaring at him.
He glared back, “If I give you a kiss will you rest?”
You relaxed your face and nodded. To say you’re deprived of sex would be…silly to say in the least. Jake normally fucked you any chance he could get. But after you got hurt…he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your stitches coming out. He’s told you this, but the more time that passes, the more you crave him.
Jake sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down and connecting your lips together. Jake held your lips a bit longer, giving you a few more kisses then slowly standing up. You sat up reaching your hands for his shoulders and pulling yourself to your knees and reconnecting your lips to his, pressing your body to his chest.
“YN,” he said between kisses, hovering his hands over your hips and then shoving you back down to the bed. He was quick to put his hands on your shoulders and push you back down in a lying position. He kept his hand on your shoulders as you glared up at him. Jake wanted to fuck you, oh how badly he wanted to fuck you. He was tired of fucking his cock with his fist the past week, but you needed rest. At least until your stitches were safe to be removed. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight against the hold he had on your shoulders.
“YN,” he sighs, “You’re fucking insane,” he slowly removed his hands from your shoulders, “You were stabbed three times and hit your head, stay the fuck down.”
Hmmm. Nah.
You grabbed him by his shirt collar, using your slow returning strength, and pulled him down onto the bed and climbed into his lap, “Funny how you call me insane,” you start to tease him, removing your shirt from your body, exposing your bare chest, “When you’re literally a serial killer.”
Jake was hard. His hands settled onto your hips and looping his fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, “You’re dating a serial killer, my love. Doesn’t that make you just as insane as me?”
“What makes you insane,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt and lifting the clothing up, “Is not giving your insane girlfriend what she wants,” you pulled his shirt off his body, running your hands down his broad chest and abs, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. You brush your lips against his, watching how lustful his expression was becoming, “Fuck me, Jake.”
Jake tore his fingers into your panties, tearing them in half and tossing them to the floor, “Lift up for me, baby.”
You held onto his shoulder as you lifted yourself up, your breasts now eye level with his face. Jake leaned forward, placing his face between your breasts, kissing them down the middle, his hands cupping them, squeezing them to his face, and taking your skin between his teeth and sucking gently, slowly working his way to your nipple and taking it in his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive nub, hands flying to his shorts and pulling them off him. Jake bit your nipple and pulled slowly, letting it slip from his teeth. He reattached his lips to it, licking and giving it one final kiss before looking up at you, “I need you on my cock, honey.”
Jake lined his tip to your entrance, one hand on your hip as you slowly slid down him.
“Fuck,” Jake breathes, resting his head on your shoulder as his tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you feel so good.”
A week without your pussy was a week too long and it took everything in Jake to not fuck his hips up into you, letting you completely take control.
You started off slow, letting yourself adjust to his size and working up your speed. His cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls. You’ve craved this, craved him and his touch. You were already losing yourself on his dick, bouncing on him as if it were the last time.
“Jake,” you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Oh, fuck, Jae.”
He bit his lip, flinging his head back and squeezing your thighs, using every ounce of self-control he had to not fuck you senseless, “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “Keep going, oh fuck please keep fucking yourself on my cock.”
You bounced faster, his tip hitting all the right spots.
Jake groaned, sliding his hands carefully to your waist, trying to be gentle to not irritate your wounds more than what they probably already were. He was starting to lose himself to your cunt, becoming a moaning mess each time you clench around him, “YN, I’m going to cum if you keep clenching me like that, honey.”
You kept moving, sliding up and down, up and down, rocking your hips as fast as you could go to chase your climax, “I wa-wanna cum,” you gasp, legs getting tired but still pushing nevertheless.
“Yeah?” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm carefully around your waist, “Baby wants to cum?” You nod, biting your lip. Jake pressed you to him, flipping you over and lying you down on your back, “I’ll make you cum, honey, make you feel so fucking good.”
You gasped as he fucked into you, using his knees to push your legs further apart, giving him more access.
You dug your nails into his back, moaning his name repeatedly each time his tip hit your g-spot. You are nearly a second away from cumming. Jake pistoned his hips against yours, hands gripping the bed sheets between his fingers, “Cum for me baby, let it go.”
Jake thrust hard into you, pushing his cock as far as it could go the moment he felt your cum wrap around his cock, “Jae,” you breathed running your hands up into his hair, “Jaeyun.”
He kept pushing into you, groaning when he finally pulled out and pushed back in, rocking his hips so fast, “Going to fill this pussy so full of my cum,” he places his lips onto yours, “Fuck, going to cum so deep in this cunt.”
Jake’s movements got sloppy, breathing becoming uneven as he kept his lips pressed to yours. Jake wanted to cum so bad, it’s been a week since he’s been able to pump his load into your sweet cunt, to feel you clench around him at the feeling of his cum filling you whole. Oh, he couldn’t wait, knowing he could burst at any moment…
“I’m cumming, oh fuck I’m cumming,” he moans against your lips, thrusting a final time and painting your walls, his cum leaking from your pussy.
Jake rode out his high, slowly catching his breath. He pulled out of you with a grunt, shifting to your left and lying beside you, pulling your face to him to kiss your cheek.
You smiled and softly laughed, feeling satisfied and so full. Jake was happy seeing you smile, his eyes rolling down to the bandages on the right side of your waist. His smile slowly faded, his fingers tracing over the bandage. He almost lost you. Almost was never able to see your smile and hear your laugh ever again. His blood boiled.
“Jake,” you whispered, seeing him lost in thought, “Babe,”
Jake looks into your eyes, “I’m going to kill them, for doing this to you.” You frown, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into your touch, “I’d set this world on fire for you, ya know,” he whispered, his facial expression relaxing, “I’d let it burn and tear apart into ashes and nothingness. Let it completely burn for you.” You leaned into him, laying your head against his chest, his arms pulling you tighter to him. Jake kissed the top of your head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m going to end that fucker for what they’ve done to you and burn this fucking world down.”
—
Jake stared down the other two males in front of him, burning holes into their bodies.
Jay stared back, brows furrowed. Heeseung only glanced up every few seconds, trying to keep his eyes glued to his laptop, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
“Say some shit,” Jay said with a cool calm with irritation.
“Some shit,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.
You just roll your eyes, “Can we not today? We have work to do.”
Jake’s smirk turned into a frown, body relaxing and leaning into you, resting his head on your shoulder.
“He really is like a dog,” Jay scrunched his nose, “No wonder he barks so much.”
“Woof.”
You drop your head into your palms, rubbing your eyes, “Jaeyun Sim, please.”
Jake has been overprotective of you ever since returning back to campus. Your stitches were removed, but the scar and irritation were still present. It hurt to breathe at times or move certain ways, but you wouldn’t let it affect you. You needed to catch the imposter, after all.
“Anyways,” Heeseung mumbled, eyeing Jake one last time before looking at the laptop, “The police report finally came back from your case, YN. And the photos my team took are pulled up here as well.” Heeseung sent both files to the group chat.
“I’m uploading the…” Jay started saying, quickly glancing down at his phone, his jaw flexing then flipping the phone over on the table face down, “Anyways, I am uploading the news report we filmed on top of the official news report from the town,” Jay typed away at his computer, the files popping up in the group chat.
The four of you looked over the files and reports. Five minutes turned into an hour, and an hour into two. Yet nothing stood out in your case.
The imposter didn’t leave or take anything at the scene of the crime. They even left Jake’s laptop and folder. Which was odd, considering the imposter would want to take that information? Right? Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Whoever this imposter was, they were thorough, and clean, only left behind what they knew couldn’t be traced back to them. This was a game to them. And they are somewhere laughing their ass off right now.
Heeseung leaned back in the chair, flinging his head back and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head, pulling his dark hair up with it. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, “Is there anything any of you can think of that we are skipping over?” he sighed, “Not just with YN’s case?”
Jay also sighed, his phone buzzing and him looking back at it, carefully lifting it up, then setting it back down, “Not that I know of,” he looked at you, “Is there anything you remember that happened when you were attacked?”
Jake traced his eyes back and forth between you and Jay and Jay’s phone, tuning out your story, not on purpose, of course, he’s heard you retell your attack multiple times now. The more he hears it, the more pissed he gets. Jay’s phone buzzed again, “Are you going to answer whoever it is that’s spamming you?” Jake said, tilting his head, “It’s been going off nonstop since you’ve been in here.”
Jay thinned his lips, “I apologize, there’s stuff going on with my family and the arcade.”
Jake chuckled, “Ahh, the fun arcade.” Jay glared at him, clearly remembering what Jake did in his arcade.
You rolled your eyes again, tapping your fingers on the table, “This is irritating.”
Heeseung sat back right in his chair, looking over at you and giving you a small smile, “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours, making Jake’s blood boil, “We’ll catch this guy, yeah?”
Jake swatted Heeseung’s hand off yours, “Hands off.”’
Heeseung blankly stared at Jake and gave a soft nod, pulling his glasses back to his nose, “I apologize.”
Jake held both your hands in his now, protecting them from being touched again. Eyeing the fuck out of Heeseung.
You pushed aside your boyfriend's jealousy, staring at your laptop screen, looking over every piece of evidence, “Wait!” You said, pulling your hands out of Jake’s and typing away at your computer.
“Find something, honey?” Jake asked, peeking over to your screen.
“I forgot I put in a request for some specific reports and evidence from all the ghost face cases from start to now,” you could feel Jake shift in his chair, not because you are pulling his murders, but all of them combined. It was genius. It would be an easier way to read each of them and find the differences instead of just looking at the pictures and the news reports and articles or trying to piece each puzzle together on your corkboard. This all-in-one combo could give the advantage needed. Jake could fuck you right here in front of everyone and not give a damn. “I put in the request while in the hospital, they should be ready by now.”
Heeseung was now towering over your laptop to get a look, but quickly sat down after a glare from Jake. He’s way too easy to fuck with. Jake smirked.
“They are ready!” You stood from the chair, going to take a step.
“Woah,” Jake said, grabbing your arm, “Where are you running off to?”
You looked at your boyfriend, then the other two males, “The police station?”
“Like hell you are!” Jake snapped, “You aren’t going anywhere!”
Heeseung looked up at you with pleading eyes, “YN, he’s right. You literally got attacked two weeks ago, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.”
“Heeseung gets it!” Jake pointed a finger at him, “Sit back down.”
“We need those papers!” you retort, trying to pry your arm out of his grasp.
“I’ll go get it,” Jay said, looking back down at his phone again, “I have to stop by the news office anyways and get something from Jungwon before heading out, I’ll bring the reports here right after.”
You wanted to protest, but with the three of them, you knew you’d lose. So you just nodded, giving him a small “Thank you, Jay.”
He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled back at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair and walk to the door, “No problem, stinks.” Then he was out the door.
“Stinks?” both Jake and Heeseung said in unison, both side-eyeing you.
You shrug, “He said I reeked of dog—aka Jake—the other day before Jake’s cologne was strong and rubbed off on me, then he started calling me stinks.”
Jake scrunched his nose, “I don’t ever want him calling you that again.”
Even Heeseung scrunched his nose, “It’s an odd nickname to give someone.”
You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a big brother, kind of.”
Jake shook his head, “Nope. We aren’t doing this.”
“Anyway,” Heeseung said, looking at you with his heart smile, “Want to get some lunch from the cafe on campus?”
“Absolutely! I’ve been craving their coffee and wanting to try that new raspberry pastry!”
You pulled out of Jake’s grasp and piled your belongings together and shoved them in your backpack, tossing them over your shoulders. Heeseung did the same, noticing Jake’s glare, “Are you coming as well or?” Heeseung asked.
“Oh? I’m invited?” Jake scoffed, “You weren’t trying to just get my girlfriend alone with you?”
Heeseung’s glasses fell down to the bottom of his nose as he continued to pack up his things, looking away from Jake, “Considering you don’t let her have any friends, yeah guess you’re invited too.”
Jake stood to his feet, not liking that Heeseung was talking back to him right now, “Considering my girlfriend had her life threatened and was stabbed three times, excuse me for not letting her out of my sight,” he counters.
Heeseung pushed his glasses up, “I get it, but I wouldn’t hurt her. But I get it. That’s why I am extending an invitation to you too. You also could use some friends besides Sunghoon.”
Jake raised his brow. You looped your arm with Jake’s and Heeseung’s, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Come on you two, let’s just get some food. We can invite Jay and Jungwon too, even Sunoo! Where is he by the way?” You asked, “I know Wonnie had an exam and project to work on from what Jay said, what about the sunshine?”
Heeseung smiled and shrugged, “Sunoo had class and work later, but don’t worry I’ll get him caught up on everything we talked about today.”
You nodded, pulling the two boys with you towards the doors, “I’m starving!”
Jake and Heeseung glanced at each other, allowing you to pull them both towards the cafe.
—
Jake crossed his arms, staring up at the corkboard here at the office. It’s almost two-thirty in the morning, and nothing but the moonlight peeking from the windows lit up the room. Jake was thankful you had two exact copies of the corkboard for both the apartment and the office, making it easier than carrying the big damn thing back and forth all the time.
He glances down at his phone propped on the corner of the corkboard on the railing, all the cameras in the apartment pulled up on the screen. His eyes shift to the one in the bedroom, seeing you fast asleep in your shared bed. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you up and drag you here either, all because he couldn’t sleep and needed to wrap his head around this case.
Jake pulled the papers you requested from the police station earlier out of his backpack, reading over it. It’s been the fourth time he’s looked at this, rereading over his ghost face cases and the imposters, trying to find the fine line that would point to who this imposter was. But the more he looked over it, the more his brain hurt.
He tossed the papers to the table, running his hands through his hair. Jake had a mental list of suspects, trying to match each person to the cases, but nothing added up.
Jake assumed it was someone close, not specifically close to him, but close in a way they’ve known about his crimes for the longest time. Known who he was. Jake’s first suspect was Sunghoon, since his best friend was the one who planted it into your mind of the possibility Jake was the ghost face. But Jake continued to keep tabs on Sunghoon, and he hasn’t done or said anything out of the ordinary for Jake to really actually keep him on the list. So he was shoved out. The others? Full game.
Jake’s next one on the suspects' list is Jay. Jay had always had a small crush on you, and that hasn’t changed even after working with him on the cases. Not to mention he oddly kept checking his phone today and was so quick to offer to get the papers for you. Either he really was just being a protective brotherly figure to you, or he’s the imposter. Jake also didn’t like the attention Jay gave you, still wanting to string Jay’s body from the ceiling of his arcade.
Heeseung was the third on the list but also the least of Jake’s concerns. Heeseung was skittish and very shy. Very much in love with you, it was obvious. Heeseung looked as if he was about to crawl into his turtle shell and never come back out. He only spoke when spoken to really, unless he had something to say and even then it was quiet and not munch. His department head was also murdered and he was forced to step up, the likeliness of Heeseung being the imposter was slim.
The rest Jake had on the list were Danielle, Jungwon, Sunoo, and a few others on his soccer team and people in his classes.
Jake kept rotating the suspect list, trying to pinpoint exactly who would have such a grudge against him to become a copycat murderer. Someone who clearly wanted to watch him suffer, as the imposter said.
He ran the statement you told him at the hospital over and over in his head, then looked back at the reports, looking at the corkboard, and then pulled up all the files Jay and Heeseung have shared with everyone on his laptop.
Something clicked in Jake’s brain. His eyes widened. He quickly typed away at his computer, fingers rushing across the keys and eyes darting over every piece of information that was laid out in front of him.
He smirked, the corners of his lips curling as a laugh escaped his lips, it echoing against the quiet walls of the office, “No fucking way,” he leaned back in the chair, throwing his hands behind his head, “I got you, imposter.”
Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure he figured it out, but he knew. He just knew. All Jake needed was the full solid proof. And it was his mission now to figure out a way to get it.
Jake thought about how he found you two weeks ago, how close you were to death, how close he was to losing you. Jake never was so terrified in his life. Seeing the love and light of his life passing the line of life and death, it killed him. Drove him into a frenzy of wanting to murder every single damn person in this town and the next one over to make sure he got the imposter. But alas, that wasn’t an option. But that didn’t matter now, you would be avenged soon.
All Jake had to do was make his preparations, which he did before finally heading back to the apartment.
—
Jake pressed your body against the cool wall of the shower, your face connecting to the wall with a moan. He wrapped your hair around his hand, pulling your face from the wall, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear as the hot water spilled between your bodies.
He slid in and out of you with such ease, pulling and yanking at your hair, teeth biting your ear, tongue sliding up and down your ear, soft moans escaping his lips with each thrust and kiss of his tip to your cervix, “Fuck baby, can’t get enough of you.”
You balanced your hands on the wall, slightly pushing yourself down and lifting back your hips so Jake could pound into you easier, “Jaeeee,” your whimper, “Gonna cum soon.”
He smirked, “Yeah, babe?” he slowed his thrusts, yanking your hair and forcing your back to connect to his wet chest, “Wanna cum? And make a mess of my cock?” you nod, reaching your hands up and into his wet hair.
Jake wanted to ruin your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. Fucking you slowly was driving him crazy but oh god it felt so damn good. His breaking became uneven, his moans getting louder. He wanted to cum. To fill your cunt to the brim with his seed and hear your pretty little moans once you feel it seeping out your hole.
He removed his hand from your hair, sliding his hands down your arms and to your breasts, tracing their outline and flicking your nipples then continued down to your belly and sliding to your waist.
Jake looked down at your body, loving how it moved with his cock sliding against your walls, eyes taking notice of your stab wounds. Jake locked his jaw as he traced his fingers over the still-healing wounds. Your stitches are gone now, but the scars will now last you forever. A remembrance of what happened to you. A reminder to Jake of what was done to you.
You felt Jake was disconnected, in some faraway land as he stared down at your wounds, “Jake,” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him, “Look at me,” Your hand touched his cheek and his eyes looked to you, worried filling them, “I’m alive. I’m here and I’m alive thanks to you,” you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down, your lips brushing over his, “You’re literally balls deep in my pussy right now, focus on me.”
He smirked against your lips, then kissed you hard. Your chest was now back against the wall. One of his hands was on your clit, and the other was on your hip. His hips fucked up into you harder and faster than before, your knees buckling, “Hmm what is it, babe?” He coos in your ear, “You said you wanted to cum, so I’m going to make you cum.”
You moaned his name on repeat, fingers trying their hardest to grip to the wall and praying your knees don’t give out on you. You just wanted to take a nice warm shower before cuddling with Jake on the couch and watching movies, he obviously had other plans. Pulling back the curtains already naked and cock hard in his hands, eyes leading with you as he stepped into the shower with you, “Baby, I need you to take care of this. Need you so bad.” You weren’t complaining, shower sex then cuddling afterward? Still a win-win.
His finger of your clit with the help of his cock buried deep inside you, your orgasm approached, coating his cock, “That’s it, such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess on my cock,” he kissed your temple, “I’m fixing to cum, squeeze me tighter, honey.” You clenched around him and he gasped, whimpering out as his breathing became more unsteady. Heart racing as he felt the build-up, cock twitching, “I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.”
Jake shoved his cock as far as he could into your pussy, hips pressing hard against your ass as his white ropes shot between your gummy walls. Jake already knew he came a lot, he could feel it seeping out your hole and physically see it was dripping down your leg.
“I came so much,” he whispered and chuckled, slowly pulling out and cupping your cunt with his hand, shoving his fingers inside, “Can’t let it go to waste, wanna breed you.”
You leaned back into your boyfriend and smiled. You wanted to tease him that you were on birth control, but let him smile and kiss you as he continued to fuck your cunt with his fingers.
You finally were able to convince Jake that it was time to finish the shower and get out, mostly now that the water was cold. Jake stood behind you with nothing but his basketball shorts on, running a brush through your hair as his other hand held the hairdryer. He stopped every couple of minutes to place a kiss on your head and whisper he loved you. He even gave you one of his favorite sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers for you to wear to be comfy. You figured his actions were all the cause of you getting stabbed. Hell if this is what it took for him to be this sweet, you’d get stabbed again(totally not, because that shit sucked. You’d never want to go through it again).
Once your hair was dry, Jake pulled you into the living room, “Want popcorn, my love?”
You smiled, giving him a nod, “Of course! Can’t have movie night with…out…” your smile faded. Causing Jake’s smile to fade as well.
Your eyes widened, everything happening way too fast before you could tell Jake to move.
Jake felt something was off when he saw how you looked behind him. He quickly whipped around, being met face to face with ghost face, their knife sliding into his chest just below his collar bone. He grunts out in pain, but uses the strength he had to push you away from them and onto the floor, then quickly grasping their wrists. It’s not there… Jake pushed the ghost face back, sending them back a couple of steps away.
Jake took a few quick deep breaths and pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it across the living room. The ghost face was moving back towards Jake, swinging his fist but missing as Jake ducked down.
Blood was gushing down his chest, making him lightheaded, and once he was low enough to the ground, his knees betrayed him and gave out, connecting to the floor and hands gripping his wound.
The ghost face came prepared, pulling another knife from their cloak pocket, and walked up behind Jake, grasping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. Jake gritted his teeth as he stared up at the mask, the knife resting against his throat.
“Goodbye, Sim.” The voice mod said with a shake in their voice.
Jake just smiles up at him.
Time seemed to have slowed for you just then. Your heart racing as you see the imposter hovering over Jake, panic filling you. You were going to watch him kill Jake. They were going to kill Jake then kill you. Your breathing became uneven as you stared at him, watching as he smirked and laughed at the person standing over and about to kill him. How could he be laughing with a knife to his throat? The knife. Where was the knife?
You looked where Jake tossed it at, seeing it near the couch, his blood staining the blade and the carpet it sat beneath. With shaky legs, you stood to your feet, moving as fast as your legs would carry you, picking up the knife.
The ghost face tilted his head, “What is so funny?”
“You’re not the ghost face, Park.”
Before he could respond to Jake, you plunged forward, pushing the knife into his shoulder, his screams filling the apartment and his blood coating your face as you yanked the knife out. With all your strength you pulled at the cloak, digging your foot into the back of his knee and sending him to the ground.
The moment his back touched the floor, you straddled over his abdomen, the knife piercing into his chest, pushing it further in into the hilt touching his skin.
“Wait! Fuck please wait!”
You snarled. He just stabbed your boyfriend and nearly killed you weeks ago and he had the guts to beg? Fuck. This.
You pulled the knife out and shoved it back in, “You think you can just beg for your life now?” You snapped.
“It’s Jay!! Please, YN, STOP!!” You sat still, feeling Jay’s hands on your thighs. He gasped for air and you went back to panicking.
You quickly pulled the mask off his face, seeing the sweat build up on his forehead and blonde hair sticking to his face. Blood dripped out of his mouth and fear covered every inch of his face.
“It’s…you…” you whispered.
Jay shook his head to the best of his ability, “I’m not the ghost face.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Jake said, standing behind you, eyes burning into Jay, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived?”
Jay gasped more for air, more blood spilling from his chest and shoulder wounds.
“Jake, call an ambulance!!” You snapped, pulling the knife from Jay’s chest and pressing your hands to the wounds, “NOW!! You need help too!”
Jake held the pressure still to his chest and repeated, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived, Jay Park.”
Jay took as deep of a breath as he could, squeezing your thighs, “I didn’t. The real ghost face called me one night, telling me he knew who I was, and who my family was, saying he had a job for me.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, “Keep fucking talking.”
“I laughed and ended the call. A few days later a duffle bag filled with money appeared on my front porch, with a note telling me to answer my phone, so when it rang, I answered, hearing that stupid voice mod on the other end,” he gasped for air again, “They mentioned the job again, and that the money was my payment. I asked what the job was, and they told me to kill you, Sim.”
Jake’s face was unchanged, but your heart was racing. You stared at Jay, his eyes looking back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your skin.
“I declined at first, I couldn’t take him away from you, YN. No matter my feelings for you I couldn’t do it. I donated the money to charity and went on about my business. The next day you were attacked.”
You kept the pressure on his chest, tears now filling your eyes, “Jay…”
“After that I tried calling the number over and over, figuring it was a burner phone. But once you returned back to campus, I started receiving text messages,” You recalled the memory, Jay’s phone constantly buzzing and Jake snapping at him to answer it, “The texts told me that if I didn’t kill Sim, they would kill not just YN, but my family. They sent me photos of my parents at their jobs, photos of my friends in their homes, and photos of Jungwon in the new rooms. Photos of YN the day she was stabbed walking into campus and then photos of her bleeding out on the sidewalk and the last photo of you Sim, from the journaling office, wearing the exact clothes you did the day I received all those texts, meaning the killer had to be nearby.”
Jake processed the information and then kneeled down to Jay’s face, “How did you find out where we lived?”
“They sent me your address,” he swallowed but then coughed, the red liquid now dripping down his neck, “They gave me a time frame on when I had to do it. Told me the password to the gates of the apartment complex, which building, floor, and apartment number.”
Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “And you thought you could just walk in here and kill me? Don’t you know who I am? That I’m fucking insane. Mostly when my girl's life is on the line?”
Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a groan, “Trust me, after the day you fucked her in my arcade I knew you were fucking crazy.” Jay’s words were now shuddering, his voice becoming softer, “I was…scared. I couldn’t…lose my family and friends.”
“Who is the ghost face?” Jake tested.
“I…don’t…know.”
You looked up at Jake, begging him, “Call an ambulance, Jake. Please!” you started crying, blaming yourself for if Jay died, “Jake!”
Jake stood, taking a few steps back. He understood Jay’s desperation. If some wack ass killer in a white mask and black suit told him to murder someone or else they would kill you, he’d do every task they asked of him.
“Where is your phone?” He asked Jay.
Jay couldn’t form words, but nodded to his pocket. You let go of his chest for enough time to pull the phone from the cloak, Jake taking it from your hands, the phone soaked red.
You continued to beg Jake to call an ambulance, tears staining your face as more of Jay’s blood stained the carpet and Jake’s eyes started to unfocus.
—
You sat on the table in the office, kicking your feet back and forth and fingers gripping the edge of the table. A knock hit the door, and you looked in its direction, “Come in.”
Heeseung popped his head in, glasses falling to the tip of his nose, “You called a meeting?”
You smiled and nodded, “Come on in.”
Heeseung fully walked in, taking a look around the room, “Where is everyone else?” He asked, raising his brow.
“They should be here soon,” you leaned back a bit against the table, “It’s just you and me for right now.”
Heeseung awkwardly nodded, fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and looking down to the floor.
“Why don’t you come over here?” You playfully said, “Set your stuff done and come here.” The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. He nodded again and dropped his bag to the floor.
Heeseung stood across from you, leaning against the filing cabinet, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
You look him up and down, “Jake told me you had a crush on me.”
Heeseung’s eyes widened, ears burning red, “H-He what? That’s silly, YN.” He looked away from you and back to the floor.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Seungie,” he looked back up at you. You spread your legs apart, “What if I told you I felt the same way?” Heeseung swallowed, eyes trailing down to your bare legs, shorts riding up your crotch, “Come here, Hee.”
Heeseung pushed himself off the cabinet and walked up to you.
You tilted your head, “Come closer.” You shot your eyes down between your legs and back up to his face.
Heeseung took a step back, “No, we can’t do this.”
“Jake won’t find out,” you whispered, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him between your legs.
You wrapped them around his hips, locking him into place. You kept your fingers on his collar, pulling him closer, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased him, blowing your breath onto his glasses, watching them fog up.
Heeseung shot his hands to your thighs, “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, the fog lifting off his glasses, revealing his blown-out eyes.
You scooted yourself closer, your ass barely hanging off the table, and pulled him even closer with your legs, his hard length now pressing to your stomach. You smirked, “A little excited, are we?”
Heeseung’s hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and yanking you closer, shifting himself to press his length to your heat, “I told you to not tease me.”
You snaked your hands up to his neck, playing with his hair, “I have to be honest, I didn’t call a meeting. Only you.”
Heeseung cutely giggled, thumbs rubbing the plush of your skin, “Only me?”
You nodded, “Come closer.”
Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, “I want to kiss you so bad…can I?”
You brushed your lips back, “Can I tell you something first?”
He rocked his hips against you, “Anything.”
“How did it feel?” Heeseung moves away a few inches, looking at you in confusion, “How did it feel to stab me three times and leave me for dead, Mr. Ghost face?”
His hand was now in your hair, pulling your head back and a yelp escaped your mouth.
Everything about Heeseung changed. His body straightened out, face from relaxed to hard, jaw locked and eyes piercing. You looked up at him in fear, and he just laughed.
“You finally figured me out huh?” even his voice was different. It was no longer the cute bubbly tone, but now it was chilling and cold. He pulled your hair back further, giving you no choice but to look at him, “Or should I say, the original figured me out.”
You swallowed, “Why did you do it? I trusted you.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Heeseung smirked, lifting his other hand from your thigh and caressing your face, the watch you’ve seen before sitting on his wrist perfectly, “Why did I do it? Do what? Gotta be more specific.”
You’ve done this dance before with Jake, “Why did you commit those murders? Why did you stab me?”
He smirked even wider, “Because it was fun,” his voice sent chills down your spine, “And for why I stabbed you?” he leaned forward, brushing his nose to your jaw, “Because I wanted to watch the love of my life bleed out.” His breath formed goosebumps on your neck and he chuckled, gently planting a kiss on your neck, “It was so easy to convince Jay to break into your apartment,” he stood back up, “All I had to do was threaten your life. You have a lot of crazy people in your corner, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You took a few deep breaths in, trying to stay calm, “You wanted Jake to suffer, why?”
Heeseung leaned back inches away from your face, “Because he has something that I want, a few things, actually.” He ran his hand back down to your thigh, snaking his fingers under your shorts, “Where is he, by the way? Does he know where you are right now? He is a crazy fucking dog after all.” You glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder.
“This crazy fucking dog is right behind you,” Jake hissed, a knife now pressing to Heeseung’s throat, “And I suggest you back the fuck off my girlfriend before I start barking and slit your throat.”
Heeseung released his hands off you, slowly backing away with Jake, “Where the fuck did you come from?”
Jake chuckled, patting Heeseung’s back, “This is my office, you don’t think I don’t know every inch of this room from top to bottom to hide in? For a serial killer, you’re fucking stupid.”
Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Go to hell.”
Jake pressed the blade more into his skin, “It’s crazy how you were able to mimic everything I did, even down to the weapon and clothes, stalker much?”
“Had to learn somehow,” Heeseung countered with a smirk, “At least I succeeded in almost killing YN, versus you folding the minute her legs were spread.”
“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jake barked, “I will spill your blood so fucking fast don’t try me.”
The rage Jake was feeling at this moment, the rage that was boiling, and every instinct telling him to slide Heeseung’s throat for the hell he’s put him through. For hurting you.
Heeseung laughed, “Your buttons are so easy to push when YN is involved.”
You pierce your eyes into him, “If Jake doesn’t kill you, I will!”
Heeseung tilted his head back, “Like how you almost killed Jay?”
That statement was enough proof to show Heeseung had access to your cameras, he was watching the entire thing unfold.
“Anyway,” Jake clicked his tongue, “Where is your sidekick?”
Heeseung chuckled, “My what?”
Jake sighed, “Should we ask Sunoo about it instead? I know he’s outside that door. Ain’t that right, Sun?”
The door opened and a smiling Sunoo walked in, “Figured us both out that easily?”
“We figured Heeseung had help,” you said, pushing yourself off the table and picking up his backpack and placing it on the table, “Jake and I discussed this plenty at the hotel room we’ve been in the last couple nights, that he had to have help. Heeseung was too calm while Jay’s phone was getting spammed. Heeseung didn’t even have his phone out. How did he receive those texts?”
You opened the backpack, seeing a laptop, one textbook, and the ghost face mask. You looked at Sunoo, “You’re the one who sent the texts to Jay and helped Heeseung track us at all times. You have your own mask too, don’t you? Hiding it in the investigation room?”
Sunoo kept his smile, “It was there,” he shot his eyes to Jake, “But I’m assuming it’s no longer there.”
Jake smirked, “You think I’d let some fucking copycats steal my thunder? Nah.” He removed the knife from Heeseung’s throat, and pushed him away, quickly grabbing you and pulling you to his side, “Besides,” Jake chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and looking down at the knife, “All the evidence I have against you was already turned into the police. Sunoo’s gear too. And now that we have your gear,” Jake tossed the knife to the table, “The cops have everything they needed.”
The sounds of running filled the hallways, enough proof that the police had finally arrived. Heeseung and Sunoo didn’t loosen their glares off you and Jake even as their wrists got cuffed and they were dragged out of the office.
Jake pulled you into a hug, his breath hitching, “It’s over,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s finally over.”
You hugged your boyfriend tightly, “I’m proud of you for not killing him.”
Jake chuckled, “Trust me, honey, it took a lot to not.”
A few investigators questioned you and Jake, then sent you on your way. You and Jake were able to walk home freely with no worries.
Heeseung and Sunoo were on the news that night, video footage of them being pushed into the police cars and being hauled off, the newsman discussing each murder case, including the ones Jake committed. Each victim is named in tribute to the killer finally being caught.
You laid on top of Jake on your shared couch, the bandages from his stab wound Jay gave him peeked out of his hoodie. You traced your fingers over it, “Does it still hurt?”
Jake shifted his gaze from the TV to you, “Not as much as what it felt like when I thought you’d died.”
You traced your fingers over his face, stopping at his lips, him kissing the pads of your fingers.
“You won’t have to ever feel that feeling again,” you reassured him.
Jake nodded, wrapping his arms around you, “I know. I won’t let anyone harm you again,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and softly chuckled, “I am proud of you for how you lured him in, his shyness and awkwardness might have all been fake and an act, but the way you reeled in him and played with his feelings? Those were so true. You should be an actor, for real.”
You roll your eyes at him, “I want to be an investigative journalist, don’t have time for acting.”
Jake cupped your face and kissed you gently, “And you’ll make one hell of one too.”
The kiss went from passionate and soft, to deep and hard. Jake pulled your and his clothes off until you were both bare and you straddled his lap, riding his cock and pinning his hands above his head against the armrest. Jake was a moaning and gasping mess as you continued to ride, letting you have full control.
You smiled down at your serial killer, watching as his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly when he came.
Everything was perfect and how it should be.
— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez @jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @pockettwinzz @zeeloveshee
— taglist: @secretlyapartofthisfandom @wonheartz @ggukkyu @liwugy @hoondrop @jentlecoeur @yawnzzhoon @vixialuvs @ericluvs @qoeqe @hanjisunginc @jaeyunsbimbo @ksnooppy @immortalvee @criminaluvr @kookify @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @sunpov @topichoon @brownsugarbaybee @lilyuwon
#jake bby#sim jake#jake sim#jaeyun sim#sim jake x reader#reader x sim jake#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jake smut#enhypen#enhypen x reader#reader x enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#yeonzzzn writing#ghostface!jake#ghostface au
878 notes
·
View notes
Text
DRUNK IN LOVE
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!
WE ARE SO BACK…
genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.
juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.
your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.
the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.
the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.
before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.
nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.
you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.
eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.
“yeah. i’m fine.”
it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.
his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.
usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.
other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.
the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.
his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.
you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.
with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.
you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.
screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.
this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.
he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.
getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel
#nate doe#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nathan doe#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#nate doe smut#nate doe fanfic
501 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of parsnips and parsnip soup
So the question of parsnips, and particularly parsnip soup, came up secondary to this quote from an interview with Terry Pratchett. (Thanks to @captainfantasticalright for the transcription.)
Terry: “You can usually bet, and I’m sure Neil Gaiman would say the same thing, that, uh, if I go into a bookstore to do a signing and someone presents me with three books, the chances are that one of them is going to be a very battered copy of Good Omens; and it will smell as if it’s been dropped in parsnip soup or something in and it’s gone fluffy and crinkly around the edges and they’ll admit that it’s the fourth copy they’ve bought”.
And when @petermorwood saw this, he immediately reblogged it and added four recipes for parsnip soup.
These kind of surprised some folks, as not everybody knew that parsnips were an actual thing: or if they were, what they looked like or were useful for.
The vegetable may well be better known on this side of the Atlantic. (And I have to confess that as a New Yorker and Manhattanite, with access to both great outdoor food markets and some of the best grocery stores in the world, I don't think that parsnips ever came up on my personal radar while I was living there.) So I thought I'd take a moment to lay out some basics for those who'd like to get to know the vegetable better.
The parsnip's Linnaean/botanical name is Pastinaca sativa, and in the culinary mode it's been around for a long time. It's native to Eurasia, and is a relative to parsley and carrots (with which it's frequently paired in the UK and Ireland). The Romans cultivated it, and it spread all over the place from there. Travelers who passed through our own neck of the woods before the introduction of the potato noted that "the Irish do feed much upon parsnips", and in the local diet it filled a lot of the niches that the potato now occupies.
You can do all kinds of things with parsnips. The Wikipedia article says, correctly, that they can be "baked, boiled, pureed, roasted, fried, grilled, or steamed". But probably the commonest food form in which parsnips turn up around here is steamed or simmered with carrots and then mashed with them: so that you can buy carrot-and-parsnip mash, ready-made, in most of our local grocery chains.
It also has to be mentioned that most Irish kids have had this stuff foisted on them at one point or another, and a lot of them hate it. (@petermorwood would be one.) I find it hard to blame anybody for this opinion, as one of the parsnip's great selling points—its spicy, almost peppery quality—gets almost completely wiped out by the carrot's more dominant flavor and sweetness.
Roasting parsnips, though, is another matter entirely. They roast really well. And parsnip soups are another story entirely, as it's possible to build a soup that will emphasize the parsnip's virtues.
So, to add to Peter's collection, here's one I made earlier—like yesterday afternoon, stopping the cooking sort of halfway and finishing it up today.
I was thinking in a vague medioregnic-food way about a soup with roasted bacon in it, but not with potatoes (as those have been disallowed from the Middle Kingdoms for reasons discussed elsewhere. Tl;dr: it's Sean Astin's fault). And finally I thought, "Okay, if we're going to roast some pork belly or back bacon, then why not save some energy and roast some parsnips too? The browned skins'll help keep them from going to mush in the soup."
So: first find your parsnips. I used four of them. You peel them with a potato peeler...
...sort of roughly quarter them, the long way...
...then chop them in half the short way, toss them in a bowl with some oil—olive oil, in this case—spread them on a baking sheet, and season them with pepper, coarse salt, and some chile flakes. (I used ancho and bird's-eye chile flakes here.)
These then went into the oven for about half an hour, and came out like this.
While that was going on, I got a block of ready-cooked Polish snack bacon out of the freezer.
On its home turf, this is the kind of thing that turns up (among other ways) sliced very thin on afternoon-snack plates, with cheeses and breads. But we like to score it and roast it to sweat some of the fat out, and then use it in soups and stews and so forth.
So I scored this chunk on most of its sides, browned it in a skillet, then shoved the skillet into the oven for twenty minutes or so. Here's the bacon after it was done.
While it was cooking, I made about a liter of soup stock from a couple of stock cubes. If you can get pork stock cubes, they'd be best for this, but beef works fine.
This then went into the pot and was brought up to just-boiling while the bacon and the parsnips were chopped into more or less bite-sized chunks. After that, the meat and veg were added to the pot and the whole business was left to simmer for a couple of hours while I went off to do some line editing.
Finally I turned it off and left it on the stove overnight (our kitchen is quite cool, it was in no bacteriological danger from being left out this way) and then finished its simmering time around lunchtime today.
And here it is. (...Or was. It was very nice.)
...Anyway, this is only one of potentially thousands of takes on parsnip soup. Recipes for more robust versions—based on mashed parsnips and more vegetables, or different meats—are all over the place.
Meanwhile, as regards how much damage this soup could do to your copy of Good Omens if you dropped yours in it, I'd rate this at about 5 damage points out of 10. ...Call it 5.5 if you factor in the chiles. Soups along the boiled-and-mashed-parsnip spectrum would probably inflict damage more in the 7.50-8.0 range. But your results may vary: so I'll leave you all to your own experimentation.
373 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.
i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.
even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.
I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk
To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)
Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.
Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING
Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason
Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.
That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.
Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.
She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”
It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”
She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”
He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”
“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.
He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”
Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”
He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”
With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.
She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.
Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.
“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.
She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.
“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”
She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”
He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”
He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.
She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.
She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”
He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”
Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.
When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.
“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”
He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”
Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”
He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”
She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”
He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”
Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.
—
She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.
Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.
He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”
Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”
His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”
If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.
“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.
He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”
She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”
Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”
More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”
It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.
“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”
He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.
However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.
A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?
Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#oscar pia#oscar piastri fanfiction#oscar piasstri#oscar piastri imagines#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x reader#op81#op#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#op81 fluff#op81 fic#op81 x you#op81 smut#op81 angst
360 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Man 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen
Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.
You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.
You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.
You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.
“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”
He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.
“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.
“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.
“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”
“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.
You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.
Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.
Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?
Splash.
Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.
“Mr. Hansen, I--”
“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”
You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.
He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.
He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”
You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.
“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”
He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.
You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.
“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”
“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”
“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.
“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”
“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.
You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”
“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”
You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”
“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”
“What?” You murmur.
“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”
“What? No, you can’t--”
“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”
You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”
“Just go.”
You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?
You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.
“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”
#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#the gray man#the man#au#drabble#mob au#series
158 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I love your Hazbin Hotel stuff and I wanted to make a request. If you haven’t done something like this, could you write the Hazbin characters, specifically Vox, Lucifer, Husk, and maybe Lute with an S/O (would prefer fem but G/N is fine) who has bad body dysmorphia? Like, they can never take compliments about their body, always thinking they’re overweight, not eating, etc. If this is too difficult/uncomfortable, totally understand! Would hate to trigger anything. Hope you have a great day/night!
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
Husk
Husk will never compliment you in public after figuring out that you hate to be complimented.
That does not mean that he’ll never compliment you.
He will because he truly thinks you’re beautiful.
He simply elects to do it in private so he will be able to explain to you in length why he disagrees.
He wants you to understand why he loves every single thing about you.
Maybe you don’t agree but he will let you know why he thinks it’s all so beautiful.
He doesn’t try to make you love it all like he does but he will at least try to make you accept that he loves it.
Lucifer
Lucifer can’t understand why you don’t see your own beauty.
At least at first.
Then he realizes how close self loathing is close to depression and how they can often intertwine and how hypocritical it is to be so befuddled by your lack of understanding of his love of you & your body when he can’t understand how giving people free will is a good thing in any capacity and wow— he was too hard on you and himself.
Hello, something new to unpack with a therapist.
He definitely starts being more understanding after that revelation.
Not that he was ever cruel but he was a lot more insistent on how amazing you are not understanding that his insistence may not help but could make it worse.
It could make you think he was lying, covering up some hidden disdain with an over abundance of praise like he does with sinners who thank him for free will.
He’s not.
Make no mistake. He truly does love and adore you and every single part of you is amazing in his eyes but he understands.
He lets up on his pouring compliments and his combativeness over whether or not he means it.
He still compliments you but he no longer fights with you.
He just says what he thinks and then goes on, ignoring any expression of disbelief with a small, “A difference of opinion.”
Lute
You cannot dislike her partner.
Not allowed. No one can dislike her amazing partner.
Will spare with you when you disregard her compliments.
She means what she says.
Why would she waste her breath with words that weren’t true when she doesn’t have to?
Everything she says is said because she means it.
You best learn that.
Vox
No, no, no, no.
You don’t love your body? Unacceptable.
“Velvette! A photo shoot is in order right now!” “I’m busy!” “Well, clear you schedule!”
Velvette actually has a way of making you feel a bit more confident without seeming like she’s trying.
The photo shoot actually goes well even if you refuse to look at the pictures.
Of course, that doesn’t last long because Vox puts them up in his office, just too large and gigantic to ignore.
He has pictures of you everywhere because he loves looking at you.
Will kiss every part of you in front of a mirror while saying why he loves every part and forcing you to look at yourself otherwise he’ll stop. He records the entire thing to watch back later.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
#vox x reader#hazbin vox x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin husk x reader#husk x reader#hazbin lute x reader#lute x reader
131 notes
·
View notes
Note
Never got a request for them you say…
I know i request way to fucking much but I can’t help myself I love ur writing🫶
Butttt hear me out adult trio gojo geto shoko with fem reader. I’m thinking professional reader, who has an exhausting but rewarding job comes home exhausted, but her 3 lovers cheer her right up <333
Could be fluff or smut, I just need them in my life Fr
-🍭
Welcome Home!
Character: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Shoko Ieiri, FAB!Reader
Word Count; 2,853
Warning: overworked reader, nipple play, oral sex, praising, making out, achohol consumption, Geto in a fucking apron has me FERAL
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had lots of fun with this one 🥵🌶 Spicy loved it 1000000/10 would recommend.
Everything hurt, from your feet to your back, as you exited your car, the garage shutting behind you. You had been gone for twelve hours, leaving at six and getting home when you'd left this morning. But you couldn't complain. Your business had taken off, and as CEO, you had responsibilities to take care of, which tended to keep you away from home longer than you'd like, but the paycheck was worth it.
You had started your own candle company in college. Book tropes, characters, and television series inspired the candles you made. Your shop had been small, and you were content with that. Until your partners suggested advertising on social media, reaching out to authors, broadening your horizons. You hadn't expected much, maybe a couple of dozen more orders, a few rejection letters from said authors. What you hadn't been expecting was for your products to go viral, and several authors jumped at the opportunity to commission you for custom character candles.
Your tiny little shop became a big-time shop so fast it had your head spinning. You shipped orders worldwide, made custom customer orders, and were featured on several podcasts. Your company was close to being a multimillion-dollar company with several locations. While exciting, and you didn't need to worry about money, it was exhausting. Long hours, dozens of meetings, and business trips were your new norm; it came with the title CEO. You loved your job! There was, however, one downside.
You missed the fuck out of your partners.
With your position, you could take care of the house payment and utilities. Allowing your partners to do whatever they want without worry. Shoko was studying to become a surgeon, Geto was working on a novel, and Satoru was your biggest investor; seeing as he was from a wealthy family, he could do what he wanted. And what he wanted was to help your company grow. Things were perfect; it justified you working so hard all the time. Some days were more exhausting than others, but it was also gratifying. Your partners could pursue their dreams, and as long as they were happy, so were you.
”I’m home.” You announced mid-yawn, removing your heels and setting them to the side. You ventured into the living room. The condo was clean and tidy, as per usual, thanks to your amazing partners. They took such good care of the house when you were gone.
“Welcome home.” Suguru greeted you from the kitchen. Both the mouth-watering aroma of prepared food and the sexy man stopped you in your tracks. “Thank you for all of your hard work today, Princess.” He wore gray sweatpants, his hair pulled into his signature half up half down style.
The best part of his whole outfit was the apron. Good god, it was illegal! The black apron went around his neck and tied firmly around his waist. It read, ‘My meat is 100% Going In Your Mouth’. It was a gag gift, one you’d need to thank Satoru for purchasing. Suguru was wiping his damp hands on it as he made his way around the island, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.
You melted in his embrace, your arms snaking around him as he kissed the top of your head. “Thank you. It’s good to be back.” You sniffed at the air, happily groaning at the scent of food. “That smells absolutely amazing, Sugu!”
“You had a long day, so I made one of your favorites.” You followed him into the kitchen, staring at the four neatly prepared plates of perfectly prepared katsudon and fluffy white rice. ”I was finishing up the salad. It should be done in a few minutes.”
A warm body pressed against your back; the smell of clean linen and musk followed the body's movements behind you as Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder. “I hope so, I’m starving.” The whiny tone that resonated from Satoru had Suguru rolling his eyes at his antics as he chopped up lettuce. “But not as hungry as you probably are. You busted your ass today, as usual.” Soft lips peppered your cheek with kisses.
“It was a very long day.” You reached forward, grabbing a slice of cucumber off the cutting board and popping it in your mouth. “But it’s well worth it.”
“Long day; I guess this calls for some sake,” Shoko added, handing you a glass of chilled peach sake.
You took a long sip, humming at the sweet taste that danced over your tastebuds. “Shoko, what would I do without you?” Your exhausted-looking girlfriend took a long sip of her drink before pressing a kiss against your lips.
”You would be stuck with these two idiots.”
“Hey!”
Satoru pouted, while Suguru just shook his head with an unbothered chuckle. The carefree atmosphere and warm aura had you relaxing, the tension leaving your shoulders as the four of you sat down for dinner. While you ate and conversed with them, your partners looked you over while you weren’t paying them attention. Suguru took note of the dark circles under your eyes before looking at Satoru from his peripheral vision. He had noticed the circles along with how your skin appeared paler tonight. Dark and blue-hued eyes focused on Shoko. Her dark brown eyes examined you as she would a patient.
The three of them reached the same conclusion: you were exhausted, burning the candle at both ends. They knew very well how seriously you took your job; your work ethic was nothing to be sneezed at. No matter how sick or tired you were, you constantly pushed yourself to do more, to provide for them. Your motivation was fueled by positive forces, and there was nothing wrong with being driven by a goal.
However, the moment your goal began to run you down, that’s when you had a problem. You needed a break—some time to rest properly and recuperate. The three of them set their plan into action just with mirror eye contact.
“All right,” Suguru stood, collecting the dishes off the table, “Satoru and I will clean the kitchen. Shoko, why don't you take our sweet girl and get her relaxed?”
“Oh, don't be silly, I can help.” You followed them, collecting dishes that were snatched away from you by Satoru. “Hey, I can help!”
Shoko gently grabbed your hand, her slender, delicate fingers interlacing with yours, pulling you towards the bedroom. “It’s not a matter of you being able to help or not; we all know you’re perfectly capable of that.” Shoko gently squeezed your hand before pushing you back against the bed. “It’s more of a matter that we want to take care of you.” Those same soft fingers that had gently held your hand began working at the buttons of your blouse. “So please don’t fight us on this. You’re exhausted.” Your chest moved up and down, your steady breathing quickening as she exposed your torso. “Just lay back and relax.”
A breathless sigh escaped you as her soft hands groped your breasts in both hands, squeezing the soft mounds. “A-alright, then, let me touch you too.” You reached for her breasts, her nipples erect, peeking through the thin fabric of her white t-shirt. Your fingers just grazed over the fabric, straining against her hardening buds, when she pulled back, out of your reach. “Shoko, why are—” Her lips met yours in a soft, delicate kiss, one that emanated her true intent and desires.
”Have you been hanging out with those two morons too much?” Soft fingers, unclasp the hook in the front of your bra. “What part of ‘lay back and relax’ did you not understand?” Warm caresses of your girlfriend's skin felt like a burning fire over your tingling nipples.
“But I hate not making you feel good.”
“Baby,” Shoko chastised, leaning down, gently flicking her tongue over one of your nipples. “You make our lives comfortable; you do so much for us.” She kitten-licked one of the buds, nearly sending you off the bed. “There will be plenty of other times for you to join in. For tonight, relax and enjoy being a pillow princess.”
You were hesitant to listen to her, but as you relaxed against the bed, you realized just how tired you were. Laying back, your head cradled by the pillow alleviated some of the throbbing pain in your upper back. Plus, you weren’t often told to be a pillow princess, to lose yourself in the pleasure. This might be precisely what you needed tonight.
Without any further protest, you melted against the bed, your hand gently running through Shoko’s long, silky hair as she suckled and nibbled at your nipples while her hands massaged your breasts. I felt so good to be touched so gently. It was a drastic contrast to the boys, who roughly groped and nipped at your sensitive breasts. No matter how many times they saw your breasts, they were still the teenage boys you met nearly a decade ago. Breasts were, and always would be, some of their favorite things. Shoko, on the other hand, knew what felt good, how to get those little moans and whimpers to escape your mouth. If the woman was given the chance, she very well could make you orgasm from your nipples alone one day.
”Oooh my god, S-Sho—” That day was today, “Shoko, f-feels so good, really good.” Your nails gently grazed her scalp before you tugged on the strands of her hair. “H-Holy shit.”
Your girlfriend giggled, sending vibrations to stimulate your already sensitive nipples. “Yeah? Feel good—“ her pink tongue swirling tantalizingly slow around them, “so good you’re going to cum like this?” A tiny whimper was the only response she received. “Such a good girl for me. Go ahead, baby.” She groped both your breasts, pushing them together, allowing her to suck and nibble at both your nipples at once. “Cum for me.”
Shoko pressed her knee against your clothed center, and that was all you needed to cum. “N-Nggh! C-cumming~ S-Sho! Fuck!” you withered and squirmed, your hips rocking g against her knee, extending the sweet pleasurable waves that rocked you to your core.
She was watching you get off from just the brush of her knee, and her mouth on your tits had Shoko giggling softly. Your face was twisted with pleasure, slowly shifting into a more lax face as you finished riding the waves. Once your heavy breathing turned into soft, content sighs, she pulled back with a grin. She’d like to see the boys try and get you off solely from your tits. Because she knew neither had the patience or skills for that.
“Good job, Shoko.” Your eyes fluttered open as the bed shifted. “Got her nice and relaxed for us.” Shoko sat back, watching as Suguru and Satoru crawled up the bed. “How are you feeling, sweetheart, better?” Satoru hummed as he unzipped your skirt, tugging it down.
“Mhmm, a lot better.” You lifted your ass off the bed. Allowing Suguru to tug your thigh-high stockings down. “Sho always takes good care of us.”
“Mmm,” larger hands forced your legs apart, “I can see that.” Suguru hummed, trailing a finger up and down over the wet spot on your panties. “She made you cum, and you did such a good job.” His fingers hooked under the lace hem and tugged them down, throwing them somewhere across the room.
Suguru’s fingers pulled your wet folds apart, admiring the slick coating of your lips and how your arousal seeped out of your tight entrance. His thumb pulled the hood over your clit back just enough, allowing him to rub sweet, gentle circles around the bundle of nerves. While he teased your clit Satoru nestled himself between your legs, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs up to your dripping sex.
“Mmm, I was wanting dessert.” His hot breath teased your twitching cunt. “Thanks for the meal, sweetheart.” His tongue dipped out, tracing teasing circles of your entrance. His wet tongue and Suguru’s thumb had you gasping, arching off the sheets. Your hips jolted forward, silently begging for more. “So fuckin’ needy~” Satoru growled into your pussy. “Normally, I’d make you beg, but you’ve been working so hard you deserve a reward.” His tongue dipped past your tight entrance, gently swirling it as he licked at your inner walls.
With Satoru’s tongue spearing you, working the muscle inside your pussy, Suguru takes the chance to lean down, kissing and sucking at your swollen nipples. “Fuck, you sound so pretty; make more sounds.” His teeth gently graze over the bud. The sudden sensation made your body jerk forward, here widening as his skilled mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking on it hard.
“Suguru,” Shoko sits on your other side, “try swirling it gently~ like this.” A raspy sigh shakes through your entire body as Shoko demonstrates her technique on your other nipple. “This gets her going.”
“Oooh~ I see now.” The dark-haired man watched Shoko closely, nodding as he observed her momentum. “So I need to do—“ his eyes meet yours as he flattens his tongue, “—this?” His tongue matches Shoko’s face as pressure, sending tingles coursing straight to your pussy, where you clench around Satoru’s skillful tongue.
Blue eyes widen as feeling the gentle spasms of your cunt on his tongue. Your wetness seeped out, coating his tongue, mouth, and chin. “Mmmphmm~ yeah.” His voice is hoarse with unfiltered, pure need. “She fucking likes it~ her cunts hugging my tongue, keep it going.”
Hearing the filthy words, Satoru spoke motivated his best friend. Suguru kept his ministrations up, his eyes darting between Shoko and back to you, doing his best to keep up with her pace, mirroring her movements to the exact inch. In turn, Shoko’s hand dipped down, pressing gently on your lower abdomen.
“S-Shiiit!” You hissed, lifting your head an inch, watching as your three beautiful partners worshiped you. “Ooooh haaah!” You arched, squirmed, and twitched on Satoru’s tongue. Your partner's fingers, tongues, and lips moved faster as you screamed, one hand gripping the sheet as your other hand thrust into Satoru’s hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as you rocked against his face.
“Good girl~” Suguru growled against your nipple. “Goood fuckin’ girl~ cum all over Satoru’s face.”
Shoko nodded her head in agreement, her hand pressing harder against you. In doing so, she put pressure on the coil that was twisting and twisting inside you. Satoru groaned loudly inside of your pussy, feeling your walls twitch slightly around him; the tiny movements had his tongue lapping faster and harder, rubbing against your g-spot with every flick.
The combination of all three of their efforts made you scream and squirt. Coating Satoru’s tongue and face. Watching the stream of clear liquid coat, Satoru’s face had Suguru rubbing your clit faster. Extending your orgasm, making you squirt again again.
“Oooh, that’s it! Good fucking girl!” Suguru praised while Satoru glowered at you. Not in anger or disgust, but in feral fucking need. His mouth and tongue didn’t stop moving as he drank all of you in, working you over the dips and rises of the orgasm that nearly took your life. He only pulled away when you grimaced, shaking at the overstimulation of his mouth, and that only happened because you yanked him out of your pussy.
“Mmm~ such a good girl~” your slack mouth was suddenly being kissed by Shoko before Satoru crawled up, slotting his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste the sticky, tangy essence of your cum. “She was the best, wasn’t she, Satoru.”
The white-haired man pulled back, collecting the remaining traces of your cum with his pointer finger. “She’s the fucking best. No questions asked.” You lazily watched as he offered his finger to Suguru.
“Oooh, thank you.” Dark eyes trailed over you before he smirked, gently wrapping his hand around Satoru’s wrist and leading his finger into his open mouth. You choked on a breath as you watched Suguru bob his head up and down Satoru’s finger, ensuring all of your juices were clean. “Mhmm, so sweet. Shoko, have a taste.” Your girlfriend grinned slowly, leaning over your spent body, kissing Suguru with full tongue to get a taste of you. Their tongues swirled and massaged the other for what seemed like an eternity before they broke the kiss with a string of saliva and your cum connecting their tongues. “Isn’t she delicious?”
“She’s sweeter than the peach sake from dinner.”
With a gargled moan, your head fell back against the pillows as your lovers all leaned over to examine your face. Your pale skin from earlier was flushed a darker shade, your eyes were hazy and distant, and if this were an anime, they were sure you’d be spurting a nosebleed right about now. The trio exchanged knowing glances and gentle smiles. You did so much for them. The least they could do was give you a proper welcome home.
#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk reader smut#jjk#jjk y/n#jjk gojo smut#jjk reader insert#jjk men#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk shoko#jujitsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen shoko#gojo imagine#geto imagines#shoko ieiri#gojo satoru smut#geto x reader smut#gojo x Geto x Shoko x reader#jjk gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader x geto#gojo x reader smut#shoko x reader#shoko x reader jjk smit
119 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Lentil & The Blueberry (The Surprise, Part 2)
Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, NSFW, sex, fingering, mention of vomiting (for my emetophobia babies), established relationship, fluffity fluff, worried Emily has my whole heart
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Weeks six and seven of your pregnancy are underway, and you are struggling. But maybe not as much as your wife? Wildly overprotective Emily will do anything to help you feel better during your pregnancy. And I mean anything. 😉
Week 6: The Lentil
Emily had known about the baby for less than 12 hours, and she’d already gone into full Overprotective Dad™ mode. You’d slept in the morning after telling her, jerking awake to find Emily towering over you, watching with her eyebrows furrowed.
“Jesus, Emily!” you exclaimed, stretching. “You scared me!” You glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have to be at work?”
Emily continued staring, a look of deep concern on her face. “I really don’t want to leave you here like this.”
For a brief moment, you forgot you were pregnant. You scoffed. “I’ve had jet lag before, babe. I think I’ll be okay.”
“No! Pregnant.” She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly running her hands through your hair as you moved to rest your head on her lap.
“I’m fine, Em,” you assured her. “I’m a little tired and sore, but that’s probably just from moving.”
“Maybe I should call and tell them I can’t make it in today…” She was speaking more to herself than to you.
Your voice was stern, decisive. “You can’t take off work for nine months just to sit around and watch me be pregnant. Even if you could, I’d rather you take the nine months after the baby’s born.”
She sighed deeply, looking down at you as if she was making the hardest decision of her life.
“You promise to call me if you need anything?” she asked.
“Promise.”
She gently placed your head back on the pillow, then knelt down in front of the bed so her eyes were level with yours.
“Please don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she whispered. You could tell she was trying to lighten the mood, to make herself feel better about going to work, but she was too worried about you for it to sound anything other than terrified and pitiful.
“Like what?”
“Ladders, lifting things, falling in the shower...”
“Well, I wouldn’t fall in the shower on purpose,” you argued.
“Just…” She leaned forward and kissed you so gently, so softly, running her thumb slowly along your brow bone. “Be careful. Be safe.” She stood, then leaned down to kiss you on the head one more time.
“I love you,” she said, then lifted up your shirt to kiss your stomach. “And I love you.” She shot you one last desperate, anxious look before leaving.
“Promise you’ll call?”
“Go, Emily.” You shooed her out of the room, laughing. Who would’ve guessed that managing your wife might be the hardest part of being pregnant?
Week 7: The Blueberry (18+)
You leaned back into Emily as the warm water swirled around you, the sound of the jets and the movement of the water soothing your aching body. Morning sickness had started in full force, and your abs were sore from mornings spent heaving over the toilet. Your head was killing you most of the time, and you were constantly bloated. All in all, the first trimester was kicking your ass.
Emily kissed your shoulder, pressing her face next to yours and wrapping her arms around you to gently cup your breasts, mindful of the pain you’d been experiencing.
You sighed contentedly as she ran a thumb lightly over your swollen nipple.
“Better?” she asked.
“Mmhm,” you nodded, eyes closed. When Emily had called this afternoon to check on you, you’d told her how gross you felt from puking all morning, how sore your body was. She’d stopped at Bath & Body Works on the way home to buy every single kind of bath bomb they sold, just to be sure you’d have a fragrance that didn’t make you feel sick. She’d brought Epsom salts and fancy body butters and a new candle because the one you usually had in the bathroom smelled like coffee, and coffee triggered your gag reflex right now. She’d come determined to do whatever it took to help you feel better.
“And to think you said paying more for an apartment with a fancy jacuzzi bathroom was, and I quote, fucking dumb.”
“I take it all back,” you said, whining softly and involuntarily pushing your hips forward as Emily continued circling your nipples, her touch light as a feather.
“Honey,” Emily breathed behind you. “You can say no, but…” Her breath was hot against your ear. “Can I touch you?”
Your body wanted it, but your mind was struggling. “I don’t know, Em…”
Emily gently turned your body around so she could look in your eyes, her thumbs running back and forth along your hands. She leaned close, placing a hand gently on your cheek.
“It’s okay if you really don’t want to, but..” She watched you squirm a bit under the water. “It feels like you do. Can you tell me what’s going on in your head?”
You avoided her eyes, following a stream of bubbles as it made its way around the tub. “I don’t feel very pretty…” you mumbled, looking away.
“What?” she said, and you couldn’t tell if she hadn’t heard you or if she couldn’t believe what you’d said.
“I don’t feel very pretty. I feel gross.”
“Y/N.” Her voice was heavy with love and care and you felt a little like crying, not because you were sad, but because she loved you so much it was overwhelming in your current hormonal state.
Emily pulled you onto her lap and wrapped her arms around your body, pressing kisses into your face and neck. “You are so pretty. What are you talking about?”
“I’m pukey and bloated and my hair is greasy because I’m too tired to shower,” you confessed, resting your head on her shoulder. “I feel disgusting.”
“Baby,” she said, chastising you and gently guiding your face so you had to look at her. “You’re beautiful. You’re growing a whole human right now. You’re incredible. You have never been more beautiful to me.”
Almost unconsciously, you started to grind your hips into Emily’s, your breath coming fast, rhythmic. You sighed, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck.
Emily grinned. The words were working! She left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, placing her hands on your hips to guide you.
“You are stunning, Y/N. You’re growing eyes for our baby this week, did you know that?" She thought for a moment, morbid curiosity getting the better of her. "I wonder what it looks like in there…”
You stopped abruptly, as if a record had been scratched. “Not sexy, Emily. I don’t want you thinking about what the inside of my uterus looks like.”
“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly, an embarrassed smile playing on her lips. You pressed your hands to the side of her face and kissed her, your body hungry for hers for the first time since you’d returned from London. You couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t get close enough.
“Emily,” you said breathlessly, pulling away to look at her. She was nearly as out of breath as you were–and significantly more flushed. “Touch me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Please.”
You whimpered as Emily’s thumb brushed over your clit, the warm water soft and comforting around you. She rubbed slow, indulgent circles, sensitive to your sensitivity, and your hips rose to meet her each time, even as exhausted as you were.
She kissed you deeply, passionately, her tongue desperate and gentle as it roamed your mouth, your neck. You moaned into her as she slipped two fingers inside of you, your body pulsing urgently around her. She kept her hand still for the most part, letting you control how hard, how fast, how deep.
As your breath grew ragged and your body clenched, surging against Emily’s, she moaned into your mouth, pressing into you. “Oh, god,” you breathed, Emily’s sounds nearly driving you over the edge.
“Come on, baby,” she begged, gasping. “Come for me.”
You drove your hips into Emily as your body convulsed, whimpering while your orgasm washed over you like a waterfall of static electricity. She fucked you through it, only removing her fingers when your breath started to calm and you fell against her, spent.
“Feel better?” she asked, kissing the side of your head, and pushing a string of wet hair out of your face.
You nodded, still too out of breath to speak.
You dragged yourself into a sitting position a few minutes later. “Here,” you said, clearly exhausted. “Let me do you.”
“It’s okay,” Emily told you, grinning.
“I can,” you insisted, pulling her toward you for a kiss.
“No, Y/N,” she said, laughing a bit as she pulled away. “I’m good. As in, I already came.”
“What!?” You giggled, blushing a bit. “Jesus Christ, Em! You were horny as fuck.”
She blushed and kissed you again, then poured some shampoo into her hand and grabbed your head playfully. You sighed happily as she massaged it into your scalp.
“I can’t help it,” she shrugged. “Look at you. Your boobs are fucking huge right now.”
“Well, don’t get used to it.”
Emily stared at you for a minute. Your soapy head. Your arms crossed defiantly over your chest. The slight pouch in your stomach that she knew would grow into her child. The way your eyes shone, holding so much love, so much purity of spirit and heart. What had she done to deserve you? She felt tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and she used her thumb to wipe them away.
“Are you crying?!” you asked, leaning forward to take her hand in yours.
“I just love you so much,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion.
“Oh, god,” you complained, sniffling yourself. You had a hair trigger for crying these days. “If you cry I’m gonna cry.”
She exhaled firmly. “I’m pulling it together, don’t worry.”
“I love you, too,” you said quickly before dunking your head under the water to get rid of the suds. And because if you thought about it too much, you'd start sobbing and god knows when you'd stop.
You popped back up, flipping your hair over so you looked like a founding father. Emily laughed, and all was right in the world.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss drabble#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
unlikely duo
lando norris x singer!yn
summary: following y/n, an international superstar, invited by mclaren to attend the monaco gp. after that, it’s all go from there with a certain no.4 driver.
faceclaim: jazmyn makenna!
_____________________________________________
yourusername posted
liked by mclaren, landonorris, and 1,392,902 others.
yourusername omggg! thank you so much for having me @ mclaren this has been a life long dream. the little girl in me is sooo happy, and i had THEEEEE most fun! mclaren girl until i die. 🥹
78,628 comments
mclaren Guys shut up, y/n y/l/n is officially a part of the papaya fam! 🧡
liked by yourusername
user1 THIS IS THE CROSSOVER I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED!!!
—> user2 wdym girl y/n has been saying she was a fan of f1 since before you could talk 😭
user3 do we think she’s a lando girlie or an oscar girlie?
—> landonorris Obviously Lando.
—> user4 AGHHHHH HE REPLIED TO YOUR COMMENT!!
—> user5 Lando being messy as usual. 😭
f1 Was y/n here for us or were we here for her?
user6 she’s really doing every side quest to avoid dropping a new album.
—> user7 WE ARE HUNGRY GIRLLLL
user8 lando’s comment… let him cook.
—> user9 So true give y/n a good man for once.
—> user10 y’all are MADDD weird, they literally just met y/n went to ONE race.
—> user11 @ user10 they’ve been following each other wayyy before she went to this race.
—> user12 I’m here for it.
f1wagupdates posted
56,892 likes
f1wagupdates International music sensation y/n y/l/n was spotted in a club in Monaco during this summers off season with Lando Norris, having preformed in Paris the night prior. The two were reportedly seen both arriving and leaving together.
8,397 comments
user8 I WAS RIGHT WHEN I SAID SO IN MAY SHUT UP OH MY GOD.
—> user 13 Can you be right about a P1 for Lando next?
landonorris uploaded a photo to their story
yourusername posted
Liked by landonorris and 1,003,893 others
yourusername monacoooo baby, best week of my life!!!! will be back asap <3
45,903 comments
user14 SHUT UP THE LAST PHOTO, LANDO WAS ON A BOAT TWO DAYS AGOOOO
—> user15 y/nDO IS REALLL!!!
—> user16 HOW IS THE PAPARAZZI NOT CATCHING THESE TWO?
—> user17 @ user16 just a normal day in monaco 😭😭😭😭
madisonbeer come back to LA girl i miss u 🥹
—> yourusername ily bby see u soon!
—> user18 y/nson stronger than y/ndo could EVER BE!
—> user19 WHERE IS THE COLLAB?
liked by yourusername
liked by madisonbeer
landonorris I’ll show you around next time?
—> yourusername if you’re driving!
—> user20 LANDO STOP ACTING AS IF YOU WEREN’T ALREADY DOING THAT!
—> user21 why are we being gaslighted rn.
user22 drop the album queen!
y/n_updates posted
liked by carlossainz55, and 973,893 others.
y/n_updates Y/n spotted last night in her current home city of LA getting cosy with Formula One driver Lando Norris. The two have been interacting on social media, and have been rumoured to be dating since they appeared to have first met in May.
Y/n has not been involved with anyone romantically since her whirlwind romance with the rising star Jacob Elordi last year. Elordi is believed to be the mystery man she was referring to in her hit song ‘ballad of broken promises’.
Read more about the singer and her supposed new flame through the link in our bio.
69,683 comments
user23 WE HEAR NOTHING ABOUT THEM IN MONTHS AND THEN SUDDENLY GET THE CLUB IN MONACO AND THIS?!
user24 y/nDO IS CONFIRMED
user25 omg his outfit… girlfriend effect at its finest. 🙏
—> user26 still had to keep the cap though 💀
user27 jacob elordi to lando norris… they couldn’t be more different from each other 😭
—> user28 that’s what i was thinking, the height is the first thing!
—> user29 mother has amazing taste 😩
—> user30 @ user29 ik u didn’t just say that having listened to ballad of broken promises 💀💀
user31 THE WAY CARLOS LIKED THIS POST IM SCREAMING!!!!
—> user32 HIS BEST FRIEND JUST CONFIRMED IT HAHAHHAHAHAHAHA
user33 CARLOS SAINZ STIRRING THE POT
user34 omg my girl has a man 🥹 i am so so happy for her if they are official
user35 Am i the only one who has never heard of Lando 😭
—> user36 UMM YES 💀
yourusername posted
liked by madisonbeer, landonorris, and 2,389,683 others.
yourusername i am super excited to announce that my new single ‘high-heeled sweetheart’, ft my bestest friend @ madisonbeer , will be coming out next friday! i had so much fun making this track, and i’m sooo super proud of it. thank u to all the beautiful ppl out there who keep making this dream of mine possible. i just want to hug each and every one of you. <33
and a special thank you to @ landonorris for taking the beautiful photo i now get to use as the cover for this song. you’re incredible! :)
96,682 comments
user37 SO LAST NIGHT WE GET THE Y/N X LANDO PICS IN LA, AND TODAY WE GET A SONG DROP.
—> user38 AND HE TOOK THE COVER PHOTO
—> user39 i fucking love the cover but it’s so risqué, they are 100% dating.
—> user40 THE :) FACE OH I AM SICK!
madisonbeer my ANGEL!! I loved finally working with you
—> yourusername thank you for being here with me every step of the way madi
mclaren We will be streaming this song as soon as it comes out. 🧡
liked by yourusername
user41 the way she still hasn’t adressed the dating rumours, queen shit.
—> user42 she don’t need to, the pics are confirmation enough. 😭
landonorris y/n called me incredible, #winning.
—> yourusername lando norris noticed ME #winning.
—> user43 ARE Y’ALL GONNA COME OUT AND TELL US UR DATING OR DO WE NEED TO FORCE IT OUT OF YOU?
—> user44 MOTHER AND FATHER?
iamrebeccad will be listening on friday! so happy for you ✨
—> yourusername i absolutely adore you 🥹
—> user45 HIS BEST FRIENDS GIRLFRIEND IS EVEN COMMENTING NOW!
—> user46 oh theyre locked in.
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#lando norris#lando norris x reader#fame au
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alex Keller x plus-sized reader
.8k | fluff, body insecurities
Even if you don’t love yourself, Alex will until you do
The door of your shared apartment slammed shut followed by a couple of thuds.
“Baby?” Alex called from the couch, looking over his shoulder.
When you rounded the corner with a frown, he rushed and wrapped an arm around you, noticing the wobble of your lower lip.
“Oh, sweetie, what is it? Did something happen?”
You’d jumped out of bed with a grin that morning at the thought of the shopping trip ahead. One of your girls had their birthday coming up and you were getting matching dresses.
“No… It’s just…” You sighed, fighting the brimming tears. “I couldn’t find anything.” The first tear fell anyway, which you wiped away immediately.
He led you to the couch.
“Each time they found something cute, I had to be the bearer of bad news and tell them they didn’t have it in my size, or that it looked horrible on me. We went through the whole mall, and I had to look at all these cute dresses that I’d never get to wear because nothing would fit right. I feel so left out.” You sniffled. “I… I was feeling good. Got to have a nice brunch and boba after, but now I just feel guilty about ruining the day! We spent the whole day out and we didn’t even get anything.”
“You didn’t ruin the day, sweetheart.” He gripped your hands. “You just haven’t found the perfect dress yet. It takes time, doesn’t it?”
“I couldn’t even find anything remotely flattering. How am I going to find the perfect one? I don’t… even want to go anymore.”
You still wouldn’t meet his eyes when he wiped your tears away. “How about this, you get a dress you like, and we’ll get it tailored? Then you’ll get to showcase all those gorgeous curves I love so much.”
“But… It’s not supposed to be tailored. It’s supposed to look good right away.”
“Clothes off the rack don’t usually fit everyone perfectly. My dress uniforms were tailored too.” He tilted your face towards him. “We’re living, breathing things. We don’t all look alike and that’s normal.”
After a long silence, you muttered, “Why are you with me, Alex?”
“Because there’s no one I want more than I want you, no one with a sweeter smile or a lovelier voice.” He kissed your knuckles. “Some days I wake up and I wonder what you are doing with me. You should be with someone who doesn’t have to leave you all alone for weeks, make you worry sick if he’s coming home. Someone who doesn’t have so many ugly scars.”
“Alex…”
“It’s the same reason you’re with me, isn’t it? It’s never about what I see, always about how you make me feel.” He kissed your forehead. “I don’t see these flaws you talk about, because to me they’re not. I wish you could see yourself how I see you, just 5 minutes,” he said, caressing your cheek.
“Your smile is what keeps me going in the field when things go sideways. This pretty face is my absolute favourite thing to come home to.” His hands slid down your arms. “Because there’s nowhere safer than your arms when you hold me tight, or when you stroke my hair with your gentle hands.”
He squeezed your waist. “This is a wonderful reminder that I keep you happy. What else am I supposed to grab when we spoon?” His gaze trailed further down. “I love when you jump into my arms, especially when those thighs wrap around me, or when you get on your tippy toes on to kiss me.” He gave you a once over before bringing your hand to his lips again. “Fuck, there’s nothing I don’t love about you. I can’t ask for anything more.”
Your lips wobbled again, but for a different reason now.
He pulled you to his chest, his strong arms around you as he kissed the side of your face repeatedly. “I know it’s hard sometimes. But I’m going nowhere, and I’ll love you even more the days you can’t.”
He brushed the new tears off your face with his thumb and peppered more kisses on your cheek as he held you.
“We have the whole day to shop tomorrow. We can go anywhere you want, maybe the matcha cafe you like too after?"
“You don’t mind?”
He shook his head, giving you one of his gorgeous smiles. “The best things take time, like finding you. But had I known it’s you, I’d have waited longer.”
Happy birthday to my C aka my April sis aka the one Alex Keller would literally be on his knees for aka the story itself @shadofireshinobi. Here’s to many more times I’m gonna slide into your DMs and rizz the hell out of you <3
#call of duty#cod#cod fanfic#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty fluff#cod fluff#female reader#alex keller#alex keller x reader#alex keller x you#alex keller fluff#x plus size reader#x chubby reader
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Belly of a Black Heart - Alastor x Reader
18+. minors do not interact.
thank you @lustylita for the inspiration of this fic. your mind is a beautiful place. everyone check out her art and her concept to this story here. all credits to her, this was not my idea.
part 2
summary : After an unsuspecting death, you end up in hell and at the Hazbin Hotel. You become dead set on redemption. Alastor's feelings towards you are confusing and it pisses him off more than he can handle. In result, unknowingly to him, his feelings manifest through his shadow.
tw : no smut this chapter. angst. alastor being a jerk. mild gore/wound
words : 5.3k
notes : i hope you enjoy this chapter <3
When you wake the next morning, your head is a blur. Sitting up in your bed you take a minute to look around your new living situation. It takes a second to understand that this isn’t the room you usually wake up in but, despite all of that, you feel good.
The reality of being in hell was hard on you yesterday. You’ve had your little breakdown and denial fest.. you won’t let that bother you today. Pushing past things is how you manage. Always one step at a time. Plus, you’re in a place that offers redemption now. What’s done is done and now you can focus on how to get into heaven and maybe sort out a plan there. With God or something, right?
He’s literally God, maybe he could help your situation on earth. You doubt anyone here could help you… or even want to help you.
No headaches, your body doesn’t burn… today feels like you can start fresh. Rolling to get out of bed, your eyes catch a bundle of red in the corner of your eye.
Three red peonies tied together in a bow lay delicately over your unoccupied pillow.
You examine the vibrant flowers and thumb around the stems. You wonder who was thoughtful enough to give a simple yet welcoming gift.
Alastor’s fleeting expression and charming smile snatches your memory from last night. Your face almost burns, remembering how close he was to you, his face grazing against your cheek, breath fanning over you as it does.
Smiling to yourself, you think today would be a good day to get back on track. Charlie is willing to help you, and you might learn more about the gentleman from last night. You can even thank him for the lovely flowers.
The hotel buzzes with life when you walk to the formal dining room. Delicious breakfast foods waft through the air. The warm smell of coffee buzzes through your body.
“C’mon Husky, don’t chya wanna try it? I’ve been slavin’ over this all mornin’ for ya!” A tall, fluffy man leans over the dining room table, sliding a plate of food to a grumpy cat.
“Fuck no! Satan knows what you put in there and I don’t wanna risk dying twice.” Taking a swig from a browned bottle, the cat pushes away the plate.
The tall man’s shoulder slump as he lets out a groan. “Fine, but one day you’re gunna try my cookin’ and you’ll love it. You might even beg for moore.” He teases, taking the plate for himself as Husk rolls his eyes.
“Oh, good morning! How was your first night?” Charlie beams from the head of the table and everyone’s heads swivel to you. Suddenly, you’re on the spot.
“It was great, thank you. I actually had the best sleep I’ve had in a while,” you smile, “I needed it.”
“Everyone welcome our new guest! She arrived late last night.”
It was a small creature with a giant eye who lunged herself toward you first. Her little legs patting the floor and up your body before you could react.
“I’m Nifty, I clean.” A sinister giggle erupts from her lips before the tall man who offered.. Husk is it?.. a plate gently and removes her from you.
“Hey doll, I’m Angel.”
Alastor watches from the hallway as the group introduces themselves to you. Hidden in the shadows, he watches you closely. The way you smile fondly towards people you barely know, how you embrace each one with a greeting. Clearly, you lighten the room. But you’re a mystery, and one he doesn’t want to get involved with.
Does he?
Your sweet doe eyes are burned in a memory. He couldn’t help but get close enough to smell you, and fuck, did your saccerine smell burn through his nostrils as well. He could see your panic, the reality of your new eternal life smacking you in the face… the frustration it caused you last night.
But were you really keen on redemption? He could see the light beam behind your eyes once you stood at the center of your room. You belong here, you’re here for a reason. It’s hell afterall. Every sinner who comes here belongs to this wretched place to burn forever. Surely Charlie’s delusions didn’t persuade you in one night?
Surely you’re not that…simple?
“Will Alastor be joining us for breakfast? He’s the only one I haven’t seen this morning.” Alastor ears perk up at your voice from afar.
“Ehh, smiles doesn’t usually eat with us. Probably up in his room going to town on some animal he caught this mornin’.” Angel grimaces.
Watching your reaction closely, the slight fall of your face doesn’t go unnoticed. But you’re quick to recover with a smile and dig in with everyone else.
“Okay everyone! Gather around! Today we will be learning about each other.” Charlie’s hand gestures to you on the couch as everyone else filters into the common room.
Angel plops himself over the couch’s armchair next to you, stretching his long legs over your thighs. Husk mopes in the room, bottle in hand and leans against the fireplace. Nifty props herself over the table happily swinging her legs and Vaggie stands beside her partner, eyeing everyone down.
Your eyes carefully glance around the room, trying not to bring attention that you’re looking for Alastor. From your comment at breakfast before, you don’t want to keep bringing the man up to avoid conversations you don’t want to have.
But it fails.
“Looking for tall dark and creepy?” Angel shimmies his chest and throws you a wink.
Rolling your eyes you push playfully at Angel’s leg. “No, just making sure everyone is here.” Giving him a side eye you whisper, “nosey.”
Angel laughs and gives you a nudge, “Well looks like you’re in luck toots, looks who’s comin’.”
Perking up, you watch Alastor’s tall form stride in the room and take a seat in an armchair directly across from you. His smile is wide, but it seems strained? Folding one leg over the other, he relaxes back into his seat. His eyes scan the room, probably checking for roll-call, before landing directly over you.
You give a smile but he doesn’t react.
“Okay! Now that everyone is here, we will be telling 2 truths and a lie. Everyone will say two truths about themselves and one lie. The group will have to guess which one is a lie. So fun!” Charlie claps.
“I don’t want to put our new guest on the spot, so let’s start with Husk.”
A low groan emits from the fireplace where Husk stands. He really looks like he doesn’t want to be here, but maybe he’s been here long enough to know that he has to participate.
“Alright, uh, I can down a whole bottle of whiskey with no reaction, I suck at dice games, and I hate water.”
“I’ll give you something to down, Husky~” Angel tosses his head back and blows him a kiss.
“For fuckssake,” Husk rolls his eyes.
“Oh oh! I know, the lie is he hates water! I’ve seen him take bubble baths at night.” Nifty giggles sinisterly.
“Okay good job, Nifty.” Vaggie cringes and turns her attention to you, “Would you like to give it a try next?”
Glancing between her and Alastor’s heavy stare, has he been looking at you this whole time? You shrug. “Sure, I'll give it a shot. Let me think…” You hum.
“I’ve been in hell for a long time, I love to dance and I’m pretty good at it, and I stole drugs when I was alive.” You’re not that great with coming up with things on the spot, but you gave it your best shot. First things that came to your mind and all without being too personal.
Angel drags out a hum, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that you can dance. Not sure if I would paint you as someone who would steal. You act like Miss-goodie-two-shoes’s-distant relative over there. I’m gunna go with that one.”
You couldn’t help but contain your smile, you could have sworn that your appearance gave you away that you literally died just yesterday.
“Nope! I died yesterday and found this place last night. Thank god I saw your commercial, I don’t know where I’d be if I didn’t.”
Angel’s mouth drops open and leans forward. “Hold on, you’re like, super fresh? No kiddin’. So… you stole drugs?” He looks you up and down, “can you do it again?”
“Matter of fact, we don’t know much about you. Anything at all really. I’ll take it you’re here because you stole, but there’s gotta be more than that.” Husk examines his bottle.
You shift in your seat uncomfortably. “Yeah, I stole but- I don’t know.” Memories of stealing drugs, scamming people for money flood your mind. That stuff was bad, but did it really land you here in hell? I’m sure it’s a part of the 10 commandments or sins or whatever…
The man. Your knife.
You killed someone right before dying.
“What drugs do you like? I got some good connections. We could totally-”
“No! Nonono, no one is going to do that. Say no to drugs! Remember we are trying to get redeemed?” Charlie’s arms wave frantically as she lets out a nervous laugh.
It was all for protection. You never wanted to hurt anyone like that before, it’s not like you wake up blood thirty for killing. It was self defense.
Guilt bubbles within your gut, and it’s getting hard to breathe. Would they even care if you killed? You’re sure almost everyone in hell has killed, even in the afterlife.
“C’mon, toots, tell us a little about yourself. This is about sharing after-all,” Angel teases. “I wanna know all the shit you did when you were alive! You sound like a good time, Y’know my girl buddy would love you-”
“I think that’s enough for today.” A staticy voice interrupts the conversation. Your head swivels to meet the demon who carries a strained smile. The hair on his ears stick up in a frenzy while his claws grip over the top of his microphone cane.
“But Alastor we barely got star-”
“I think,” Alastors voice grows with static, every word pronounced precisely, “that is enough for today.”
Angel's legs slide off you as he stands to stretch, “Aww what a buzzkill.”
Before you have the chance to leave the room, your face is met with Alastor’s chest.
He lifts his chin, but his eyes bore down at yours. Your eyes shoot wide with the proximity, and something within his chest spurs as wait for him to speak.
“I would like to speak with you privately, my dear.”
Following him up the stairs and into his radio tower, you tread lightly in new territory. Papers over his desk are neatly stacked next to a forgotten cup of coffee. The walls are floor to ceiling windows overlooking Pride, you’ve come to know. Dusk stretches the horizon and little dots of light twinkle in the distance over the city. On the other side of the room, old equipment lined the wall. Hundreds of knobs and switches cover the machines and you wonder how he’s able to work such equipment. Speakers, extra microphones sat upon a bookshelf along with books, magazines and other nic-nacs you’re sure he has collected through the years.
You’re not sure how old the demon is, and you’re not sure how you haven’t thought about it since meeting him, especially when he has taken up most of your mind these past 24 hours.
You guess he’s from the roaring 20’s? 30’s? He’s dressed sophisticatedly with not a hair out of place. His posture paints him a perfect gentleman in a society where it mattered. His transatlantic accent was smooth and you long to hear it more than you should, or do. And guessing by this set up, the ON AIR sign that hangs directly over his desk, you could be right.
But what of this demon? What is his story? You’ll put a pin in it and ask angel later-
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here so I’ll cut to the chase.” Alastor’s arms are neatly behind his back as he looks over Pride. Without turning to you, he continues.
“I’m looking for more help around the hotel. Husk’s job is primarily tending to the bar, Nifty cleans and Charlie is over her head with trying to recruit sinners. I’d like to say that I have everything handled with paperwork and trying to keep this pace afloat, but I don’t.”
Your brows furrow in confusion. He.. can’t handle it all? He definitely gives the calm, cool collected attitude of one who would never need help.
“So, you need my help? I thought I was just a sinner trying to get redemption?”
Alastor stiffens for a moment before turning to you. “I thought you should know that Charlie and I had a discussion earlier. We think that you fit into the family seamlessly. We both thought you would be great at helping us with our little project.” He tilts his head, scanning you over, “Unless you don’t want to?”
You shake your head. This might not be a bad idea. This could actually help you in more ways than one. This could help you more with gaining redemption and be a part of a bigger picture.
“No, that all sounds great actually. What exactly do you have in mind for me to help you with?”
“More of the mundane things like checking over the hotel to make sure everything is in order, placing orders for food, toilet paper - the essentials.”
“So the mundane things you don’t want to do?” You laugh lightheartedly. “Sure, Alastor, I can do that for you. Do you have a check list for me?”
In one snap, Alastor conjures up a daily ‘to-do” list for you. Your eyes widen at his magic.
“If you can do that, why can’t you make food and toilet paper appear instead of ordering it?”
His smile is smug, “It’s a lot more complicated than that, little doe”
Turning on your heel, you say over your shoulder, “One day, I’d like to properly thank you for the flowers you left me.”
He watches you disappear through the doorway, confusion carved over his face. Flowers?
What an interesting thing to say… An odd woman.
Woman. Your presence had been the first in his studio.
Charlie and the guests know that no one is allowed in this room, for it’s locked 24/7. This room is his pride, his sanctuary and the one thing he’s carried on since dying. Besides killing and torturing innocent people, he supposes.
Clawing at the staff of his cane he shakes the thought of your company being… comforting.
His ear twitches in frustration. This foreign feeling- this odd hunger for catching your eye in a sea of others, to smell you near has become a twisted form of entertainment. He has to ignore the way his lower belly heats and aches when you're near…Is it entertainment? He stares at the door where you just stood.
Is his curiosity growing in the little moments you spend together or is it something he can’t pinpoint? His facade will fail to hold if he continues like this.
A predator assessing his pray like it’s a game. Except, it doesn’t feel like that kind of a hunt.
-
Stepping out from the bathroom after your nighttime routine, a darkness catches the corner of your eye.
“Hello?” you call out.
The darkness in the corner slithers across the floor and manifests itself in the center of your room.
You curse under your breath, while it’s not the craziest thing you’ve seen, it’s definitely unexpected.
“Um, hello there…” You stay standing in the doorway of your bathroom. Looking the creature over as it stands tall.
The creature, no, shadow, is dark, but you can make out that its body is made up of swirling smoke. It’s face gives a chiseled smile, imitating teeth through the smoke, and resting on top of it’s head were a pair of outgrown antlers that stretch wide.
You tilt your head at the creature, curious on why it hasn’t responded to you.
It tilts his head back, mimicking your movement.
“Cute,” you giggle, “what are you?”
The shadows' eyes glow green in response and gives you a bigger grin.
“Are you here at the hotel too? I just got here yesterday…” you shift on the balls of your feet. “Do you have a name?”
The shadow dissipates into the ground and for a moment, you’re spooked. Backing up into your bathroom, a coldness caresses your neck from behind.
Spinning around fast, you’re met with it again. The creature folds forward to meet your face.
Oh fuck no.
You fumble backwards a little too fast but the creature is quick to catch you by an arm. It steadies you easily.
“You’re.. Good, right? Friend?” The words fall stupidly out of your mouth. You feel like you’re talking to a child in simple words and a sweet voice. God knows that this creature is probably thousands of years old but you’re speaking to it like it lacks some form of intelligence.
The creature smiles and nods, backing away from you before wisping itself around your body in a cloud of smoke.
Warmth surrounds your body, unlike the coldness around your neck from before.
“Friend, okay…good.” You smile and embrace the dance it gives you.
The creature manifests itself over in front of your nightstand and the bundle of shadows steps aside to reveal the red peonies from this morning. Your eyebrows raise and realization hits you.
“That was you? What a lovely gift to give.. To me.” Surprise followed by stupidity hits you in the last bit of that sentence.
How could you be so stupid to think Alastor would give you those flowers? He hasn’t even spent much time around you, let alone want to speak to you. Every time you’re in the vicinity of him, he pretends you don’t exist.
Foolish.
Foolish to think that he would even take a liking to you.
And you mentioned it to him hours ago… God, he’s probably so confused and you look like a fucking idiot.
The shadow slumps at your reaction. Its swirls grow faster over its body, like the wheels in its head are thinking of a way to cheer you up.
Warmth caresses around your hips and playfully drags you to your bed. You let it happen because, for some ungodly reason, you trust this shadow.
It’s gentle hand lingers over your face, brushing over the skin of your cheek. A familiar feeling. Almost like the feeling of last night when Alastor’s-
No.
The creature lifts your chin to look at him as he takes a seat by you on the bed and you mentally brush away the cringe.
You both stare at each other for a moment. You're entranced by its odd behavior. Although, its presence feels familiar, a kind of nostalgia you cannot place. His warmth feels like a gentle hug, a friend in the darkness when you're alone.
The faint smell of whiskey, a bar of soap and lemongrass.
A warm song that dances inside your nostrils.
Your room is quiet, as you let the shadow tickle your face and neck.
Soft music begins to play when your eyes fight sleep. But you give into the lull of the shadows lullaby.
-
From that first night of meeting the creature, you’re woken up gently by it patting your head and urging you to get dressed. Funny enough, the creature disappears while you get ready, giving you privacy. But ultimately, you wouldn’t mind it at all if it stayed.
One night, after a particularly hard day working under Alastor, you named the being.
Umbra.
Not the most creative, but it was the first thing that popped in your head… and he, you’ve come to find out, was quite happy with the new nickname.
You weren’t sure where he came from, what he is, or what manifested himself to you that night, but you’re thankful for the company.
Umbra was quiet. He never spoke, but damn is he funny. Every night, he meets you in your room practically bouncing off the walls, or more so sliding everywhere in a mist of shadows and patiently listens when you talk about your day.
Every morning you wake up with new little flowers over your unoccupied pillow. Each of them a bundle of red, for some reason. But lovely all the same.
It became a nightly routine to where he’ll lull you to sleep with gentle caresses and soft old-timey music.
And it’s given you the best sleep of your life.
Alastor however, has been more distant than before. When asking for new lists everyday, he’ll stare down at you through lowered eyelids and hand you a list bigger than the last.
He never questioned your flowers comment, but you’re sure he hasn’t forgotten.
Though, through his aloof attitude, he still invades your personal space when talking to you - and he only talks to you when it’s absolutely needed. His stare burns new holes through you everyday before he locks himself up in his radio tower until dinner or Charlie's group exercises.
“Smiles has been such a fucking jerk lately, what did you do to’m?” Angel slumps over the armchair, preoccupied with texting.
“Me? He hardly talks to me! Everyday he’ll just hand me a list to do and disappears.”
“That’s exactly the problem, ever since he’s offered you a job here he’s been acting like there's a stick up his ass more than normal. You must being doin’ shit at your job.” He nudges you and you both laugh.
“Yeah, no idea. I try to talk to him. He’s the one person in this whole place I don’t even know about… but he ignores me.”
“I don’t think he completely ignores you, doll face. Do you notice how you’re the only thing he can look at when you’re around? Hard to get him to help Charlie lately, too.”
You blush and drag your gaze to the floor. “No, I didn’t notice that. What’s his deal anyways?”
Angel went into detail about how Alastor wa/is one of the most powerful overlords in the Pride ring. 7 years ago he disappeared or some shit but 7 months ago he came back and randomly ended up here. Some bullshit about wanting to help Charlie with her ridiculous delusions about saving a sinner. He’s just here for the ‘entertainment’, but he’s been a big help honestly. Especially in his battle during the extermination - before he got wounded.
Wounded? He could get hurt? A powerful overlord who has thousands of contracted souls could get… hurt? But there airs another question…
He doesn’t believe in redemption?
Your thoughts were cut short by a shadow carrying a mischievous grin lurking in the hallway. Umbra swirls in a mist of shadows as his eyes glow green and gestures for you to follow him.
Raising from the couch you head his way.
“Maybe he just needs some good head!” Angel calls out to you.
You follow Umbra as he slithers over the carpet, manifests himself over the walls and guides you upstairs. His cute grin makes you laugh, and you're excited to see what he has in store for you today.
Not noticing that you pass your own room, your eyes only watching Umbra flee with excitement, he leads you to a door at the end of a hallway. He turns to you, looking you once over and dissipates through the door.
Knowing you want him to follow, and without a second thought, your hand turns the knob and you fly inside Alastor’s radio room.
There, hunched over his desk wearing only his long sleeve undershirt and pants, Alastor’s back is turned to you.
“Who the fuck,” Alastor’s head turns over his shoulder, black eyes blown wide as his red pupils snap to you.
“Alastor- shit, I’m,” you back away, accidentally shutting the door behind you.
“Has anyone taught you proper manners? Don’t you know that walking in on someone is-” Every word cuts through you like a knife, the static in his voice grows louder in every syllable. The lights flicker around you as Alastor’s body grows larger in scale, his antlers growing wide.
“I didn’t know!” You yell honestly, you didn't know. Or, you weren’t paying attention.
“The door was locked, how did you get in here?” Red liquid oozes out of his mouth as his empty black eyes stare you down. But you’re not looking at the anger on his face, or the way his body engulfs the room. No, you're looking at how his arm covers a wound on his side. Your eyes scan to the side, where ointments and bandages lay askew over his desk.
“You’re hurt, Alastor.”
The radio demon stops, and for a moment, you catch surprise painted in his features.
“Let me help?” You offer, taking a step forward.
He doesn’t move.
“Get out.”
You step forward, unafraid of his form. He's hurt, and you can see the blood squelching against his hand, dripping to the floor.
You reach out, covering your hand over his bloodied one and your eyes flicker upwards to the beast before you.
A silent plea to let him help. If he’s been doing this on his own since the extermination, he hasn’t been doing a great job at mending it.
He gives a frustrated sigh, and shrinks back down to his normal self. Internally rolling your eyes at how easy that was to do… an all powerful overlord listening to you was a confidence booster to say the least.
You look down to assess the wound. His red undershirt wet and stained with blood on the right side of his torso.
You flash him a look for silent permission, and he nods ever so slightly, his eyes fixated on your face. You begin to unbutton his shirt from the top down. You scan your fingers delicately over his chest and down towards the wound. Alastor lets out a shaky sigh that goes unnoticed by you.
You expose his torso more by opening up his shirt to get a better look. Alastor leans back in his chair and curves his hips upwards ever so faintly. You swallow, fighting the demons in your head to take a closer look at his exposed body.
“Looks… bad.” You manage to say, focusing only on the wound before gentle fingers slide under your chin and angle your face upwards so he can see you fully.
And you swear, that for a moment, something swirls deep within his gaze. Something more than he lets on. A flash of hope? Eagerness?
Now’s not the time.
You clear your throat before grabbing supplies and getting to work.
Alastor was silent as you mended him. His eyes never left your face as you cleaned the wound and bandaged it neatly.
“All better!” You chime, doing your best to ignore the buzz on your chin from his touch, “Next time you try to do this yourself, try to find me? I don’t think it’s healed right for at least a couple weeks. You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten infected.”
“We’re in hell, dear, I’m sure there’s worse things to worry about than an infected wound.”
He didn’t even bother to say thank you.
Is this the sophisticated and well-mannered demon Charlie raved about? The helpful demon that made this hotel?
You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding and your shoulders shrug downward.
“Is there a reason why you’ve been so avoidant since I arrived? Everyone has been talking about how you’ve been acting differently since I showed up. Why is that? Did I do anything to you?” You avoid his eye contact by putting away the medical supplies inside a metal box.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. I’ve always been the same.” He leans back in his chair.
Something doesn’t add up.
“Everyone talks about how you’re this powerful overlord, yet you lock yourself up in this tower all day and night. They all talk about how you were always around and ever since me you’re nowhere to be found.”
“I’d watch your mouth, little doe.” He snarls, but doesn’t move from his chair.
You stand, and for once you’re just taller than him even when he’s sitting down. Stories you’ve heard, the things the other residents say about him - nothing is adding up. Angel even went out of his way to ask what the fuck you did to him to act like this.
“I can’t help but think that you’re trying to avoid me. Are you scared of me or something? Or do you just like to see me do all of your bitch work so you don’t have to look at me?”
“And why,” Alastor stands, towering over you. You never realized how much taller and broader he is compared to you. His entire frame engulfs your size. “Would I be scared of a pathetic, weak sinner who died so easily doing something so reckless and ended up here?”
A beat, “I’d go far as to say you’re forgettable in this cesspool. Why would I go out of my way to avoid that?” He hums, lowering to your level at the waist. You want to punch that smug smile on his face.
You ball your fists and keep his eye contact. You scrunch up your nose and grind out every word with anger, “That’s hilarious coming from someone who did the same. Not so different, you and I.”
You didn’t care enough to see his expression before turning on your heel and head straight to your room.
Sinking onto your bed, you throw your head between your hands with a groan.
Asshole. Fucking asshole.
It doesn't take long before a presence in front of you lingers, and a warm caress slithers over your cheek.
“Not now, Umrba. I’m not in the mood.”
Umbra’s smokey hand tugs gently at your arm, pulling it forward and causing your head to droop. You allow him to pull you up and into an embrace.
Scents of whiskey, soap and lemongrass once again fill your head. A lovely haze that you’ve come to cherish. A friend.
A comfort.
A beautiful melody fills the air, and swallows you whole. Umbra’s body shakes with a staticy old tune.
“I’ll never smile again, until I smile at you” The voices sing a beautiful sorrowful melody, filling the air. Umbra’s arms skate over you and places his hands in yours.
The stance of a dance.
Umbra guides your one arm over his back, there he rests the other around your waist. A close embrace that you happily welcome.
“For tears would fill my eyes, my heart would realize…”
Guiding your hips in a gentle sway, you rest your cheek on his torso. The both of you sway to the melody slowly in your dimly lit room.
And, like always, the shadow doesn’t say a word. And maybe you like it that way. With all the chaos pounding loudly in your head, Umbra can always grant you the safe space you need. No judgment, no games.
No words.
Umbra pulls you around in a dizzying spin on your toes, earning a giggle from you. The music crescendos softly.
“I’ll never love again, I’m so in love with you…”
Guiding you around your room, you follow his lead. Wisps of smoke trail after him and curl at the bottom of your feet. Warmth is all you can feel.
You’re picked up swiftly and spun like a child before being placed softly in your bed. Umbra continues to play the melody until you are cast away in blissful sleep.
“Within my heart, I know I will never start to smile again, until I smile at you.”
taglist : @hazbinsimp777 @rapturenyx @kaytemchugh
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
imgonnagetyouback
pairing: logan sargeant x reader
summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you
a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again
requests open masterlist
————————
You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.
Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.
Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.
You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.
“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.
“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.
“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.
“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.
“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.
“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.
“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.
“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.
“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.
“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.
“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.
You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.
“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.
He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.
“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.
“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.
It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.
What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.
“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.
“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.
“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.
“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.
“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.
“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.
“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.
instagram
y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️
logansargeant it was all by design ❤️
oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something
y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you
user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??
user2 AND MARRIED??
y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm
alexalbon they are so unserious 😭
sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone
charlesleclerc ^^^
carlossainz55 ^^^
landonorris ^^^
georgerussell iconic
y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
one hell of a story
For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen
Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field.
Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.
read on ao3 or under the cut
“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”
----
Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face.
“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that.
“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks.
“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!”
“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later.
“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession.
“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays.
Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?”
“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares.
Then he focuses on saving their lives.
The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction.
He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough.
All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark.
“Tommy? Can you hear me?”
“I think he’s coming to!”
“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!”
When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck.
“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming.
“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams—
Taylor.
He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face.
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man.
He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”
“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”
“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face.
As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger.
Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…
“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?”
Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages.
“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes.
“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear.
Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.
“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.
The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself.
“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?”
Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?”
There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!”
All of which are ignored by both of them.
Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing.
“I think I just might,” Evan agrees.
“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”
“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…”
“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?”
“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.”
“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully.
“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan?
“118.”
With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster.
“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.
“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue.
And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect.
(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”)
#bucktommy#kinley#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 on abc#bucktommyweekend#buck x tommy#tevan#i hate tagging that pls stop making me#911#911 fic#bucktommy fic#my writing
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dad Mode
Our Story Masterlist
Summary: Harry is overprotective of Grace and worries about everything.
YN always knew Harry was born to be a father. She watched over the years as he interacted with Lux when they were on tour with the band, how he would be happy to help when her younger siblings, Doris and Ernest were born or how excited he was when they become Auntie and Uncle to Freddie, Lucky and Olive.
But YN couldn’t help but notice how Harry’s protective side had kicked in at full speed once Grace wos born.
Before YN and Grace were discharged from the hospital, the new family of three were enjoying some time of being in their baby bubble. Harry was sitting on the chair next to the bed, his eyes glued to Grace who was feeding as she laid in YN’s arms.
“Do you think she’s having enough milk? How will we know?”. Harry’s voice was full of worry as he watched YN take to motherhood like a natural. “It’s not like a bottle is it? Where you can see how much she’s drinking.”.
YN glanced up to find a frown written all over Harry’s face as he was deep in thought. “Will you stop being a worry pants!”. She couldn’t help but laugh. “You know earlier when she came off the boob herself?”. Harry nodded. “It meant she’d had enough and she’s really calm and content when she’s feeding.”.
Harry’s shoulders relaxed at YN words, her reassurance working instantly. “Yeah, that makes sense…m’sorry, I just want everything to be right”.
“I know you do”. YN couldn’t be more grateful for Harry. “How about when we’re home I can express sometimes and then you’ll be able to feed Grace too?”.
Harry’s eyes lit up with excitement at the idea. “I’d love that!”:
---
Whilst YN was preparing for Grace’s nighttime routine, and cuddling the little one in her blanket, Harry was running her a bath.
“Babe? C’mere!”. Harry’s voice was heard from the bathroom. YN, with Grace still cuddled in her arms, padded across the hall.
“What’s wrong bubs?”. YN watched as Harry held the little baby soap in his hands, reading the back of it.
“How much of this should I put it? I don’t want to put on much…but then I don’t want to not put enough in….but I’ve read the back and it says a tiny bit…but what’s a tiny bit…it’s all too confusing”. Harry didn’t take a breath, YN could see the worry in his eyes.
“Bubs…take a breath…and relax…just put a little drop into the water and that’ll be enough”. YN calmly explained and watched as Harry added some nighttime bubbles to the baby bath.
After Harry checked the temperature was safe for Grace, YN placed the little baby into the water and they both laughed at how relaxed she was as she laid there, her small blue eyes piercing up at them.
After Grace’s bath, YN was sat on the rocking chair feeding her as her little eyes slowly closed as she quietly went to sleep. Harry was stood leaning against the doorframe as he watched his wife and daughter.
“I’m sorry”. His voice was gentle, not wanting to disturb a sleeping Grace.
“Sorry for what?” YN couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was apologising for.
“I know I’m being silly and too much when it comes to things with Grace.”. Harry looked down as he spoke.
“Aww bubs…you’re not being silly or over the top…you’re being a good dad and just wanting to do everything right”. YN reassured him.
YN walked over to be closer to Harry. “Here…take Grace and enjoy some cuddles!”.
---
YN was woken up with a sound of a floorboard creak, as she squinted and tried to adjust to waking up, she could see Harry’s figure looking into Grace’s crib.
“Harry? Bubs?”. YN whispered, aware that Grace couldn’t be awake because she usually cried.
“I-I…I thought I heard Grace make a noise”. Harry rearranged the blanket before he got back into bed.
“Talk to me bubs.” YN invited Harry to cuddle into her. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”. She ran her fingers through his hair.
Harry didn’t say anything at first, just traced patterns over YN’s skin on her arm as he thought deeply. “I feel like I’m in constant worry mode..I’m worried about messing up or if Grace is okay…I just can’t stop worrying”.
“I understand…but you do know that you’re the only person I’d want to parent with and you’re the best dad to Grace…and you’ll be the same with our future babies…so treat yourself with kindness”. Harry chucked at YN’s use of his lyrics.
“Are you ever going to stop using lyrics in serious conversations?”. Harry smiled as they were still cuddled up as one.
“No…now get some sleep before Grace wants cuddles in the morning with the best Daddy!”.
Tag List:
@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994
#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harrystyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x you#harry styles fanfic#harry styles series#harry styles writing#one direction#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x tomlinson!reader#harry styles x oc#harry x reader#harry x yn#harry x y/n#harry x you#harry styles fic#harry styles series masterlist#harry styles masterlist#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#louis tomlinson#niall horan#zayn malik#liam payne#harry 1d#one direction imagine#one direction fanfiction#tomlinson!yn
52 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tiddfull-talks
Tiddfull_talks
anstryms-agony
That fucking hurt!
btvbureau
Beyond the Veil Bureau
benpford
Ben Ford
waywardseraph
WaywardSeraph