#you guys this was supposed to be a fun lil writing exercise and now it's a full on fanfic
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someday this will have a real title pt. 3
wow this one got away from me a lil bit. did I use it as an excuse to listen to Wake Up on repeat for an hour? yes. did I cry while writing it? yes. do with that information what you will.
I really like how this is turning out. honestly, thinking of writing a companion piece from Luke’s POV once I finish Julie’s. also, I realized while writing this that Luke basically ‘poofs’ into Julie’s space every time he interacts with her even though he’s not a ghost and I love that consistency.
still have no idea how long this will be, so thanks for just going on this adventure with me!
tag list: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles (thank you! honestly, they’ve got such strong voices writing these characters is a delight. also, titles are hard), @bluefyoto94 (thank you!), @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder lemme know if you want to be added!
The second the entrance of Los Feliz High School was in her sight, Julie was unbuckling her seatbelt, bolting out of the car in a mad dash to escape into the academic institution. Luke didn’t even have time to fully park the car before she had slipped out of it, her curly head disappearing into the mass of students surging through the front doors as the first bell began to ring. Social etiquette dictated that she wait around long enough to at least thank Luke for the ride, but honestly, social etiquette could suck a fat one. She had been dealing with fake social graces for the last year and frankly, she was sick of all of the bullshit. She didn’t feel particularly inclined to extend said graces to overconfident band boys intent on disrupting her carefully constructed routine.
For the last year Luke had been content to ignore her presence in the few classes they shared, perfectly happy basking in the glory of being an upperclassman with unprecedented musical talent. Luke knew exactly where he was going and how he was going to get there. He didn’t stop to wait for the school to hook him up with gigs, he went out and made the shows happen for his band himself. Julie had always admired his confidence, wished she could be more like him.
She hadn’t always loved the cockier side to his attitude though. He had a tendency to act like god’s gift to music and it drove her insane considering there were kids at this school that worked just as hard as him but wouldn’t ever make it quite as far. Not everyone could be born with that kind of talent, but that didn’t mean he had to rub other people’s faces in it! She should know, hadn’t she always been complimented on her musical ability before anything else? And now that she didn’t have that same gift to offer up to the masses, wasn’t she just another forgotten face in the crowd?
Head low, shoulders hunched against the onslaught of emotion, Julie pushed her way through the morning crowd of students. She didn’t look up until she knew her locker would be in front of her, and even then she only lifted her head long enough to bury it inside of the metal box, pretending she was searching for the schoolbooks already in her backpack.
“Hey, under achiever.”
The familiar voice was warm, the nickname affectionate instead of insulting. It pulled a reluctant smile from Julie as she turned to meet her best friend’s gentle gaze.
“Hey, disappointment.”
Flynn gave her a little hip bump and a sad smile. Oh. So, word had already spread around the school.
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Julie hefted her backpack higher on her shoulder, one hand reaching to pull her hat low. Too late she recognized how her own actions almost mirrored Luke’s earlier. Flynn, best friend that she was, linked her arm through Julie’s and began to lead them down the hallway towards homeroom.
“Okay.”
Julie breathed a sigh of relief. Her best friend could be like a dog with a bone sometimes, unable to let any perceived injustice go without a fight. She was thankful she had avoided whatever rant Flynn had at the ready for the time being.
“But we’re gonna have to talk about it eventually, Jules. You can’t just let them kick you out! You’re Julie Molina! Voice of an angel! Queen of-!”
Or maybe not. Flynn’s declarations cut off immediately at the cold look Julie sent her way.
“Right, don’t wanna talk about it.”
Julie nodded fiercely, unmoved by Flynn’s disappointed sigh as she pulled out of her grasp and slipped into her desk. Flynn hadn’t lost her mom and her ability to play music all at once. Flynn didn’t have the entire school breathing down her neck. Flynn’s life wasn’t falling apart in front of her eyes. Flynn didn’t get to judge. Head down, Julie fought back the feelings of shame and guilt, focusing on her anger instead.
She made it through most of the day like that, relying solely on the fuel her fury provided to get her through her classes. Until her last two classes of the day. Composition and Solo Vocal Studies. Except, she wasn’t in those classes anymore. She had been dropped from them like the useless failure that she was. Her dad still didn’t know, so there hadn’t been a meeting with the school to change her schedule. But she couldn’t just go to a class she had been asked to leave. The final bell rang, and Julie was left by herself in the empty hallways. She glanced at the closed classroom doors around her, feeling small and lost. Suddenly, the red-hot rage that had sustained her all day was doused by an overwhelming wave of sadness. She was alone.
Unable to stomach the thought of losing it in the middle of the school, Julie sprinted for the nearest exit. Her surroundings were a blur until she practically slammed into the metal doors, crashing her way outside. She took a few steps before doubling over on her knees, gasping for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, focused on nothing more than the air going in and out of her lungs. It was breezy, the warm wind blowing her hair around, the wayward curls tickling her face. The sensation helped to ground her, and she finally opened her eyes, the panic receding as she stood. The door creaked open behind her. Julie stiffened at the noise. The hair on the back of her neck felt electrified, and she didn’t have to hear him speak to know who it was. A throat cleared.
“You, um...you dropped this.”
She heard fabric rustling, the soft swoosh of what must be his arm lifting. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, the frustration she’d been thriving on all day creeping in at the edges. She clung to it like a lifeline as she turned to meet his puppy dog eyes.
“What, are you stalking me or something?!”
Her voice was hoarse, not as strong or snappy as she had intended. She balled her hands into tight fists at her sides, ready to verbally attack as she leaned forward waiting for him to respond. He didn’t say anything, eyes soft as he looked down to where his hand was outstretched holding...her hat. Her hands flew to her head, landing on hair instead of the trusty ballcap she had kept perched there for the last year. So that’s how her curls had gotten loose earlier. Heat rose again, burning its way up from her chest to her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She snatched it out of his hands, shoving it back on her head with more force than necessary.
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing. You, uh, bolted outta there pretty quick. Everything okay?”
She watched him bob slightly, like he couldn’t stop moving for even a second. His voice was melodic, somehow everything he said sounding like he was on the verge of bursting into song. In another life, she probably would have been charmed by him. Not in this life though.
“Fine. Looks like I’m done with school for the day I guess.”
She practically sneered at him. Something about his gentle prodding scratched at her. Everyone knew she was a disaster. Everyone knew she was out of the music program, a washed up has been before she had been able to even make it in the first place. He didn’t need to use the kid gloves with her.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you usually have...”
He trailed off, eyes downcast, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. She glared, not even noticing that he somehow knew her schedule.
“Yeah. Usually. Not anymore. So.”
He rocked back on his heels, hands shoved in his jean pockets, arms flexing in an unfairly aggressive display of hotness. His eyes were still looking at her with that same gentle expression. Like he cared. Her fingertips itched and she realized with a start that she desperately wanted to grab her keyboard and pound out an angry ballad about this...this too nice fuckboy with a pretty face and she could see the notes forming now and she could practically feel the smooth chill of the keys under her fingers and...she staggered backwards.
What the hell was that?! Her heart raced, adrenaline spiking. Oh no. No no no. She couldn’t want to play for this dumb boy. She hadn’t been able to play for her dad or her brother. She hadn’t been able to play for Flynn, hadn’t been able to play for her mother. She couldn’t even play for herself! What kind of special magic did Luke freakingPatterson possess that made her want to play again? It wasn’t fair.
“I gotta go.”
She swerved around him, reaching for the school doors. They held fast, locked from the inside. Her shoulders slumped. Just her luck.
“Hey, Julie?”
She didn’t answer, but it didn’t stop him.
“I’m really sorry about your mom. She was an incredible songwriter. You are too.”
The last part was said quietly but Julie heard it anyway. She couldn’t help but scoff as she turned to face him again. He stood perfectly still this time.
“How would you know that?”
His eyes, still so soft, crinkled a bit at the edges. Not a full smile, but she could tell he wanted to. Without breaking their stare down, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn, folded square of paper. Her gaze dipped, eyes widening. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn’t be. He held it out to her.
“I found it last year. In the practice room. I know I should have given it to you earlier, but there was never a right time. I’m sorry.”
Julie’s vision swam. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached out to take the paper he offered.
“I thought...I tried to...”
“I know.”
His voice was the sweetest croon as his fingers closed around hers, tucking the sheet music safely into her palm.
“I went back the next day, but...it was gone.”
“I’m so sorry. God, I should have had Alex give it to Flynn or something.”
“No.” She locked her eyes on his once more. “It wasn’t the right time.”
He gave her a small smile, bouncing just a bit on the balls of his feet again. And then, as if understanding that she needed this moment to herself, he gave her a small nod and disappeared around the side of the building. Julie closed her eyes for a moment, clutching the papers to her chest.
Last year, in a fit of heartbroken rage and unable to express herself through music like she had for her entire life, Julie had locked herself in the practice room after school and thrown an all-out tantrum. She had screamed herself sick, cried until she couldn’t breathe, and in a final fit of uncontrollable emotion, trashed the last song that she had written with her mother, finished just days before she took her last breath. It had been satisfying in the moment. A vow to give up the part of herself that was made up of her mother, cut the pain off at the source so to speak. She had regretted it the instant she woke up the next morning, but it was too late. By the time she got to school, the first student on campus even, the practice room had already been cleaned. The hollowed out, empty feeling of loss that had followed had been gut wrenching. The realization that she had thrown the last connection to her mother in the trash left a gaping hole in her heart. It had been a fitting punishment that Julie had never even gotten to play the final product. A fitting punishment that she would never play anything again.
Luke had just changed all of that. He had given her that piece of her heart back. Fingers trembling, she unfolded the pages. She traced the looping letters of her mother’s familiar handwriting, following the notes up and down the bars, the melody playing in her head as she read. At the very end, a final message she had missed before:
Julie, you can do it.
Love, Mom
It felt like coming home. Pages clutched to her heart once more, Julie leaned against the building, lifted her face to the sky, and wept.
#you guys this was supposed to be a fun lil writing exercise and now it's a full on fanfic#that's honestly v on brand for me#also this was supposed to be fluffy! blame julie for the angst!!#julie and the phantoms#jatp#juke#jukebox#julie x luke#luke x julie#julie molina#luke patterson#palina#Mads speaks#Mads writes#jatp ficlet#jatp fanfic#jule ficlet#juke fanfic#find the strength find the melody
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kidnapping scenarios
A/N: hey! so one day I was super inspired and wanted to write a series of scenarios with genshin impact characters.... but i feel like if I’ve lost some inspiration for it so I decided I’m just gonna post the two I have finished!! also these are both suuuppper self indulgent but i had a lot of fun wrtiting these!! the traveler is also gender neutral ;3 i’ve never written for Kaeya so I hope its not too ooc. as always feedback is appreciated! hope you enjoy ;0
Summary: A drabble based on how Diluc and Kaeya would react if they found out you got kidnapped by Abyss Mages!
Warnings: | Kaeya: a lil angsty, depiction of a panic attack | Diluc: N/A |
- Diluc Ragnvindr-
It was supposed to be a simple commission. “I’ll be back before sundown!” you yelled over your shoulder as you walked out of the tavern.
“Sundown” his ass.
Diluc had been waiting for you for four hours pacing around the tavern until he couldn’t take it anymore. “They’re a really good fighter,” he told himself, “they probably got lost again.” But the reassurance was in vain. The moon was high in the sky and there was no sign of you anywhere in Mondstat. Chugging the last bit of alcohol, Diluc picks up his weapon and packs some food for the road, and sets off to go find you himself.
When he goes to your commission location, the only thing left is a demolished hilichurl village, parts of the huts aflame and sword marks up and down the archery towers. But he does notice one thing. It’s so minute, Diluc almost walked right over it. There is the faint elemental trace in a circular shape. An abyss mage. With their teleporting ability, it was probably easy for them to overwhelm you with hilichurls before trekking you off to some far off base. Diluc can feel the anger and disappointment coursing through him. Anger for how the Fatui could touch a hair on your precious head and being disappointed in himself for not looking for you sooner. He had failed as a protector of Modstadt’s people, and he’d burn anyone that gets in his way to find you. Hell has no fury like an angry Diluc and it only took him half an hour to track where they took you.
Sneaking behind the bushes, Diluc can see you tied by rope covered in ice, struggling to get free. The abyss mage’s voice is shrill and echoes through the camp of hilichurl minions. “What are you planning, traveler? You know you are not from this world.” Diluc can see you roll your eyes, your body shaking. “I already told you I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered, your voice unwavering but hoarse. Diluc props his sword up next to him from the bush. Your gaze snaps to the gleam in the bushes before moving back to the abyss mage. Luckily, the abyss mage doesn’t notice and shoves his staff near your throat. “Don’t play games with me, traveler. You know something and I’m willing to use violence to force it out of you.” Diluc can hear you chuckle even through the relief that flashes in your eyes. “If it’s violence you want, then that’s what you’ll get.”, you say, as Diluc launched himself at the abyss mage with a battle cry. Using his Pyro, he melts the rope off of your body and hands you a Sunsettia before yelling over the sound of battle. “Stay put! I’ll come get you when it’s safe.” The abyss mage and hilichurls run around the camp chaotically, not prepared for Diluc’s rage.
By the time the fight ends, the camp is nothing but ash. You had stayed put like Diluc told you, munching on an apple you found while you waited for him to loot the camp. Diluc crouched next to you, his voice soft. “Are you okay?” Diluc asks, his hands reaching towards your face to rub your cheek. You give him a small smile, your voice raspy but still happy. “Yeah, I’ll be okay. Thanks for looking for me. Sorry I missed our date.” Diluc smiles, for the first time since you left this morning and plants a firm kiss on your forehead. After the range of emotions both you and Diluc had been through, the day had come to a peaceful resolution, as you walked hand in hand back towards Mondstast, safe and sound.
>< Kaeya Alberich ><
At this point, Kaeya just wants you back in his arms.
He knew sending you into a dungeon, especially without him being there was a terrible idea. You had been sent to investigate a dungeon that had highly suspicious activity going on, and for the past three hours, he’d been pacing back and forth in front of the dungeon doors. To not make up feel incapable, he let you walk in on your own, sending you off with flirty words of encouragement. Now all he wants is to bust into the dungeon and whisk you away from this cruel world.
Doing just that, Kaeya slams open the doors of the dungeon, his heavy footfalls echoing through the space. Any unlucky slime or hilichurl that gets in his way is graced with an icy glare, making quick work of the first rooms of the dungeon. But then something sparkly catches his eye. Picking it up, he notes it’s a piece of your favorite cape, and his heart starts to ache. When he first entered the dungeon, he held onto hope that you were just taking your time or you went adventuring, but this confirmed his fears. Staring at the scrap of fabric, his thoughts begin to spiral as he jumps to the worst scenarios. They’ve taken you to a distant nation and he can never save you. You’re being tortured and you’re alone and you’ve lost hope. You’re sitting in some fiery pit, your spirit and his care burning with you. Feeling his anxiety grow, he tries to do those breathing exercises you taught him, but he can see his own breath due to the temperature he created. Standing still for a moment, he remembers a distant conversation you had about this very instance. “I hope you know I’ll always try to save you,” he had told you that night, his voice resolute and determined. You giggled at his dramatics, your hands tracing his eye patch gently. “I know,” you answered simply. “Because I’d do the same.” Breathes evening out, Kaeya feels his anxiety ebb away, letting in a renewed sense of determination and simmering anger. They fucked with the wrong knight. Grasping his sword with resolve, Kaeya sets on his way to find his beloved and prays that the poor souls that hurt you beg for mercy because he doesn’t plan on giving them any.
The air in the dungeon is frigid, and even before you can see Kaeya you know he’s coming. Glancing at your tattered clothes, and knowing Kaeya as well as you do, you knew he would find you sooner or later. For a guy with an eye patch, he’s very observant. And you also know he knows how to make an entrance. The floor around the metal door keeping you captive freezes before shattering with a loud clang. Pieces of metal crumple to the floor before you see Kaeya’s silhouette. Slowly, walking in, you can see frozen tears gathered near his eye, as he grabs keys he got from who knows where and the cuffs around your wrists fall. Grabbing one of your hands, he brings it to his lips, as new tears spring from both your eyes. “I told you I’d save you,” Kaeya says, his voice cracking with emotion. Wiping his tears with shaky hands, your smile lights up the dark cell. “I always knew.”
#genshin impact#genshin kaeya#genshin diluc#diluc x reader#genshin impact kaeya#kaeya#kaeya x traveler#genshin impact diluc#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact drabble#genshin imagines#diluc genshin impact#kaeya genshin impact#drabble#genshin traveler#kaeya x reader#kaeya x gn reader#gender neutral reader
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hey I’m not sure if you’re taking prompt requests but I just had this idea if you ever want to write it. I know it’s not anywhere near New Years right now but I had an idea for if there was a little NYE party with all the ppdc staff there. All the homies are just vibing, getting crunk on shitty alchohol or whatever and y’know Newt and Hermann have a lil New Year’s Eve kiss 🥺
That’s all I have to say I hope you’re having a good day!
@owengrose said:
Prompt: "My New Year's resolution is to finally tell him I love him."
happy new year’s eve to both of you!!! i let the first one sit in my ask box for a while before getting to it lol. my annual Newmann NYE fic. here’s to hoping next year is moderately better (and I actually get more writing done...)
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“Here we are, then,” Hermann says.
He hands Newt a glass of something he concocted at the lab kitchenette—judging by the color, and the pitiful wedge of a clementine garnish he squeezed onto the brim, some sort of gin and tonic, though less tonic and more watermelon La Croix. It was the only thing they could find in the breakroom fridge that would work remotely as a mixer. It’s probably been buried in there for months. “Thanks, dude,” Newt says. Then, noticing the lack of a similar glass in Hermann’s hand, asks “Not drinking?”
“None of that,” Hermann says. “I’ve got a bottle of decent wine buried somewhere under all the rubbish in my desk. I’ll have that if I want any before we go.”
“Suit yourself,” Newt says. “It’ll be more fun if we show up tipsy, I’m telling you.”
New Year’s Eve used to be a lot more exciting when Newt was in school, and young and invincible and all that shit. There were parties—bar crawls—the Times Square ball drop at midnight, queued up on someone’s laptop or a television screen wherever he was—drinking until he needed a classmate (or later colleague) to walk him home. The Shatterdome staff still goes as hard as Newt used to, and God, Newt envies them for it, but the end of the world kinda killed it for him. He just kinda exists in a low, humming state of anxiety now. He and Hermann both. It’s good for them to get out of the lab every now and then and strive for normalcy, and Newt has a feeling Hermann knows it, which is probably why he didn’t put up a fight when Newt suggested they go to the big base party tonight.
Newt still needs a good few drinks in him before he can drink more and pretend to be merry. He finishes the gin and tonic with a wince. “Too much gin,” he says. “Okay, let’s go.”
Newt drinks, and he dances with a few people, and he engages in a few genuine non-work-related-conversations before he finally admits to himself he’d rather just chill with Hermann in one of the deserted corners of the room. Hermann is waiting for him in a stupid gold party hat with a cup of water—what a guy. Always there for Newt. The hat is a cute look on him, too. Newt wonders if he picked it out himself, or if it was forced on him; either scenario is cute.
“I just don’t fancy dealing with your hangover tomorrow,” Hermann says with a sniff, as Newt swallows the water down gratefully after a few thanks. “Last year—”
“Yeah, okay,” Newt says. Last year was bad. He ended up falling asleep on the floor of the lab, and when Hermann made him coffee the next morning, he puked it up all over a very important stack of Hermann’s paperwork and the subsequent shouting match just made his headache worse. Drinking water is good, very good. He kicks his feet up on a nearby vacant chair. The music is loud, and people look like they’re having fun. Normalcy. He and Hermann are just two normal dudes right now, who aren’t fighting monsters from another dimension. “Can you believe we’ve survived another year?”
“Frankly, no,” Hermann admits.
“One whole year,” Newt says. “One whole year of not being squashed by a kaiju, or eaten by a kaiju, or murdered by you…”
Hermann snorts derisively, though a bit of a genuine smile does peek through. “One whole year of you not blowing the laboratory up. That is a feat, isn’t it?”
“You fucking bet it is,” Newt says. He really thought Hermann was going to kill him over the puking incident, and only a day into the new year too. He slings an arm around Hermann’s shoulders. Two normal dudes, and friends at that. He really likes Hermann, y’know, but that might just be the gin and watermelon La Croix talking. “You got any resolutions, dude?”
“Er,” Hermann says.
“I want to try to get into yoga,” Newt says. “For exercise, and shit. We should do it together.” Back when the base enjoyed more funding and workers, Newt was always seeing flyers for weekly yoga classes taped up in the elevator and at the announcement board in the mess; once, he got it so into his mind that he was going to start going that he bought three whole pairs of yoga pants. He never got around to it, of course. The classes kinda fizzled out when the PPDC budget was slashed drastically anyway. Hopefully YouTube videos work just as well, and that the pants still fit him...
“If I’m being honest, Newton,” Hermann says, and Newt spies the tips of his ears turning pink, how cute, “I still haven’t quite managed to accomplish last year’s resolution. Or technically this year’s, I suppose. My—well—my nerves failed me every time I thought I was close.”
"Eh, no big deal,” Newt says. “I never did mine either. I think that’s just as much of a tradition.” He went vegan for all of two weeks before realizing most of the rationing-standard food they served in the mess wasn’t exactly catered to those particular dietary needs. Also, Newt likes fancy lattes too much, and oatmilk just wasn’t kicking it for him. “I totally am gonna do the yoga one though. I need a stress reliever. I don’t wanna go bald before we’re even killed by kaiju, you know?” He crosses his legs. “Or go grey. I can’t decide which is worse. What was yours?”
“Nothing important,” Hermann says quickly. He takes a clumsy sip of his own cup of water, and spills a bit of it down his sweater. Newt decides not to mention. “It must be nearly midnight. Don’t you want to run off to find someone to snog?”
“Nah, not this year, I don’t think,” Newt says. Last year (before the whole blacking out and ruining the paperwork thing), he made out with a ranger he had a crush on for, like, months, and the guy never even called him back. And Newt slipped his official PPDC email into his pocket too. So totally rude. He reaches out and plucks the elastic string holding Hermann’s hat on, and is delighted when Hermann scowls. “You’re stuck with me. Why don’t you find someone to kiss?”
Hermann opens his mouth, and then shuts it. The blush is spreading down from his ears. “I am staying right here, thank you, and I am not kissing anyone.”
“Suit yourself,” Newt says.
“Five minutes to go!” someone in the crowd shouts.
Newt locates a party hat of his own on a nearby table and pulls it on. It’s silver, unlike Hermann’s. He doesn’t think it looks nearly as cute as Hermann’s. “What was your resolution?” he finally asks. The burning curiosity’s too much for him. What did Hermann mean by nerves? Hermann’s never afraid to speak his mind around Newt, at least—Newt can’t remember the last time he’s held back anything. This must be a pretty big thing.
“Oh, it hardly matters now,” Hermann says. “The year’s about to end, isn’t it? Better luck next go around, I suppose.”
“Were you going to request your own lab?” Newt says. That’s a big thing. And it’s a big thing he’d be hesitant to share with Newt, too. Not that Newt would be upset over having his own lab, obviously, sharing with Hermann totally sucks. It’s the worst.
“Mm. No,” Hermann says.
Newt feels a small twinge of relief, but only for a moment. “A different Shatterdome?” It’s the sort of thing Hermann’s always threatening—by Jove, Newton, if you don’t clean this mess up right now, I’m marching into the Marshal’s office, and I’m going to demand...
“Oh, it’s hardly that dramatic,” Hermann says. He plucks at the elastic of his hat this time. “It’s one minute until midnight.”
“Just tell me!” Newt says. Their fellow partygoers start counting down around them. “You’re killing me. I just wanna—”
“Ten—”
“It’s not important,” Hermann says.
“It is to me,” Newt says.
“It’s really not,” Hermann says.
“Tell me, tell me, tell me—”
“Fine,” Hermann says.
He grips the front of Newt’s shirt. Newt shuts up immediately. “I’m in love with you,” Hermann growls, “you wretched little man. That was my bloody resolution.”
“Oh, shit,” Newt squeaks.
Someone pops a bottle of champagne to loud cheers; confetti is suddenly raining down on Newt and Hermann. They totally missed midnight. “Oh, shit,” Newt repeats, and then, because Hermann looks utterly mortified and like he wants to book it out of there as fast as he can, thinks fuck it. He leans forward and kisses Hermann.
“Newton,” Hermann gasps, half in shock, half in delight, and returns it enthusiastically.
#newmann#maria's fanfiction tag#Anonymous#last fic of 2020!!!!#alcohol cw ///#emeto cw///#(brief ref)
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Robotics and Dentistry
happy new year!
this piece is part of a few writings i’ve done in a lil crossover between doom and transformers that @that-prey-lounge & i have been talking about for a while now
setback ( transformers oc ) & the doom slayer / william ( doom )
2,013 words
language warnings, mild mentions of gore, some mouth exploration
thanks for reading!! reblogs > likes!!
“ How the hell did you get something stuck in there? Isn’t your diet liquid? ”
“ It is, yes, but I— “ Setback frowned and tightened his jaw, though it only further irritated the pain in his mouth. This was an embarrassing predicament he’d gotten himself into, and couldn’t get himself out of alone. “ I got frustrated, and I bit a demon’s head off, ” he muttered.
Will stared at him for a long moment, giving him a hard deadpan. Setback returned it in kind, refusing to break under the humiliation. This, unfortunately, was not the first time he’d used his teeth to finish off an adversary—squishy or otherwise. It wasn’t a common tactic he employed, mind, but sometimes the situation called for a swift, decisive crunch to conclude things.
“ Does it hurt? ”
“ It’s bothersome. ” Yes, it hurt, but he didn’t want to admit it so easily––not with Will looking at him like that. “ Are you going to help me or not? ” The mech pushed a sharp huff through his vents. He had half a mind to disregard Will and deal with the pain himself. Surely whatever fleshy bit stuck in his teeth would rot away eventually. In the grand scheme of things, it’d only be a minor pain for an insignificant amount of time.
“ That’s fucking nasty. ” The human grimaced, but he clearly found some humor in the situation as well. He waved his hand, gesturing his consent to be lifted. “ Let me see. I’ll get it out for you. ”
It was nasty. Not only the feeling, but the sound of flesh crunching and tearing between his teeth still lingered, fresh, in Setback’s memory. He wrinkled his nose, but bent forward and brought his hand down to gently sweep the human off of his feet. He regarded him with a hard stare, as if warning him to keep his amusement in check. Its success was debatable at best. Setback found himself hesitating, even as he brought Will nearer to his face.
“ Well? ” Will swatted the tip of Setback’s nose, making him huff. He started to open his mouth, but he’d only just parted his lips when Will all but lept in, pushing past his incisors and canines. Setback grunted in surprise, jaw jerking down to accommodate the sudden presence.
Oh, he did not care for this.
Putting demons in his mouth was nasty, as Will had pointed out, but war brought out terrible things in people. Biting demons in half was one thing. Humans, however, were a different story—or this human, at least. Biting down on Will, or harming him in any capacity, was the last thing Setback wanted to do.
“ Jesus Christ… I didn’t know you actually had individual teeth. ” Will laid prone on the mech’s tongue, waist deep in his mouth, and studied his surroundings. Setback had dentition remarkably similar to a human’s, which Will found surprising. While all teeth were ( obviously ) larger, there were unmistakably molars, incisors, and some rather long, sharp canines. “ What the hell are these for? I have never once seen you chew anything. ”
Setback flinched a little at the thump to his lower right canine that followed. He tried to speak, but quickly realized that he couldn’t form any words around the human in his mouth. Will chuckled at the attempt nonetheless. The deep, growling voice so close, echoing around him, felt funny.
“ Yuhh hurry uh, ” the mech grumbled—or tried to.
“ Damn—you have li’l lights in here too? ” Will pulled himself further into Setback’s mouth. Luckily for the both of them, giant alien robots don’t have gag reflexes, so, while it was an odd sensation to feel tiny, human hands rubbing at the back of his throat—presumably at the biolights there—it wasn’t one that was going to make Setback hurl. It did, however, chip away at his already waning patience.
“ Ui’yuhh— “
“ Do they go all the way down? What’s the point of—hey! ” Setback pinched the human’s lower leg between two digits and unceremoniously pulled him out, dangling him upside down in front of his face. A string of oral fluid dripped from him. The mech levelled Will with a glare.
“ You are not helping, William. ”
Will looked up at his captured leg, and then met Setback’s glare, unbothered. “ I’m looking. Gotta find the damn thing. Let me back in. ” A smirk crossed his features. No doubt he was feeling a little smug about being needed.
“ Top right. Towards the back. ” He scrunched his nose and squinted at the human. Will was enjoying this. For what reason, he couldn’t figure out. Nevertheless, Setback opened his mouth and lowered him back in. He set him down with his back to his tongue, and leveled his head so Will could adjust his position himself.
The irritant, as he’d said, was lodged between his top, back molars. Will, now with direction, quickly found it and gave it an experimental tug. Even just a minor jostling of the tender area sent a twinge of pain into his circuits, and made him growl softly around the human.
Will felt a shiver run down his spine at the sound—or perhaps it was the sound itself that vibrated through his bones.
“ Looks like a piece of… I dunno, rib? I’m gonna pull on it; I’d appreciate it if you didn’t bite my arm off. ”
Setback hummed in response and locked his jaw in place. While he did trust his own conscious control, it didn’t hurt to add the extra safety measure for Will’s sake. Will pulled himself almost fully into the mech’s mouth, gripped onto the debris with both hands, and planted a boot against the hard palate for extra leverage. He gave a short countdown so Setback could brace himself––not that he’d thank him for such a courtesy––and gave a hard yank. The debris didn’t come free immediately. Will had to twist and wiggle and shake it, loosening it from between Setback’s teeth. The growling gradually grew louder, more intense, until it ended in a sharp grunt right in time with Will falling backwards on his tongue, the dislodged remains clutched in his hands. Setback closed his eyes for a moment and allowed himself a sigh. The mechanisms in his jaw groaned as the strain against the locked joint eased.
Will gave the slick, metal tongue beneath him a pat. “ There ya go, big guy. Feel better? ” He tossed the offending bone out, but made no moves yet to remove himself from Setback’s mouth. Instead, his attention returned to the teeth between which the bone was stuck. “ Doesn’t still hurt, does it? ” With hands much more tender, he rubbed along the sockets the teeth settled in—gums? They’d be gums, he supposed, though the words “ robot gums ” sounded strange in his mind.
The touch was not pleasant. The first rub agitated the soreness, and the second did so only marginally less. After the third rub, Setback growled a noise of protest. His tongue bucked under the human, pushing him up and towards his mouth opening, but Will blocked himself in, a hand and foot braced against the back of an upper and lower incisor.
“ Wait—hold on. ”
“ Hnn? Uah? ”
All of these new sights and sounds had Will so curious, so fascinated. Surely there could be no downside to knowing more of the anatomical workings of his Cybertronian companion.
“ Let me look around a bit more. This is all new territory. ”
Setback made a disapproving sound and gave Will another nudge, but the human kept himself stuck.
“ C’mon! You already let me explore all over your outside. I wanna check your cool-ass teeth out some more. ” Though he knew Setback couldn’t see him, he still made a puppy dog face—the same one he’d make whenever he sought the mech’s reluctant cooperation. “ Think of it as me learning more about you so I’ll be able to help more in the future. Or you could think of this as an exercise in how to be careful with me. ”
Setback rolled his eyes. He was careful with Will. He even had half a mind to argue—if his mouth weren’t currently full—that Will had admonished him for being too cautious with him on multiple occasions.
However, despite Setback’s reservations, and his suspicion that Will was just looking for excuses to continue his exploration, he found some merit in said excuses. With a heavy sigh, both reluctant and exasperated, the mech relaxed his tongue under Will. He could have his fun, if only for a little bit.
Will wasted no time. He laid back on the tongue and put both hands to the roof of Setback’s mouth. The fluid coating the mouth interior was slick to the touch, and made everything slippery. His hands glided along the palate in vague circular motions, feeling over the smooth metal. They then drifted back to the gums, this time on the opposite side from the sore spot, and traced the seams along the teeth. Fingers followed the seam from molars to incisors, and back to Setback’s upper left canine. To put things simply, it was a big fucking canine. Will estimated that it must have been six or seven inches long. He tested the tip’s sharpness on the heel of his hand, then did the same with the cusps on a molar.
“ Why do you have such big teeth? ”
The tongue shifted under him. Setback hummed, but, with Will occupying his mouth, he couldn’t offer anything of any coherence.
Looking to the outside, Will found amusement in how the teeth resembled stalactites and stalagmites, how it looked and felt sort of like he was spelunking in a cave. In a way, he sort of was. He twisted himself so he was back on his stomach, unbothered by the slime coating his clothing and skin, and crawled his way further into the slick cavern.
Setback was finding it bizarre, to say the least, to have Will––or anyone, really––rummaging around in his mouth. The taste was inoffensive, but the feeling was strange. It took a good bit of willpower not to shudder at the sensation of those little hands poking and prodding and rubbing around in there.
It also brought him some level of mental discordance. Most things that went in his mouth were either fuel or foes. Will was neither. Will was… a friend. Will was his only friend in this damned solar system.
And his friend was in his mouth, arguably in a very dangerous place. Yet, he was perfectly safe. That much Setback would ensure. He would not harm this human.
“ What would happen if you swallowed me? ”
Setback blinked. “ …huh? ”
Will gave his tongue a final pat, then pushed his way out of the mech’s mouth feet-first, right into his awaiting hands. He wore a pleased grin on his face as he shook his arms free of some of the goop.
“ I think I could fit. Where’s your fuel go when you drink? You’ve got some sort of stomach-thing, right? Or tank? ”
Now that he was free to do so, Setback unlocked his jaw and flexed it, working out the stiffness. The absurdity of the question was starting to sink in, slowly but surely.
“ I have a tank, yes…. Multiple tanks where energon is stored until it can be pumped where it is needed. ” Setback regarded the human with a dubious look. He did not like this line of questioning. “ Before you ask: no. I will not swallow you. ”
“ You say that now. ” Will’s grin took a turn for the smug.
“ I do say that now, ” Setback said. He scowled down at Will. “ I think we’re done here. ” Will started to protest, but Setback took a knee and lowered his hands to deposit him on the floor. Then came the pouting.
“ You’re welcome, ” he said. His indignation was light, but present. Setback rolled his eyes.
“ Thank you, William. ” He placed the tip of his index finger to the human’s chest and gave him a gentle shove, pushing him a step back. “ Go clean yourself off. ”
“ What if you just close your mouth with me in there? ”
“ William–– ”
“ What if I say ‘ pretty please ’ ? ”
“ Go. ”
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Physical affection prompts! 21! 25!
Prompt: accidentally knocking your head into someone’s chin + playfully biting someone
Established relationship. Beth and Rio try couples yoga. An injury ensues.
Side note: This is the first time I’ve ever attempted writing from Rio’s POV. Augauahgah!!! I feel like all the straight Mexi-boys I know are mad sappy about the ladies in their lives so… this is Big!Soft. Don’t hate.
On Ao3
A Bit of a Stretch
It goes like this.
Three months ago, a yoga mat shows up in the car. It’s purple (her favorite color), and Elizabeth probably thought it inconspicuous, neatly rolled up and tucked away in the back. But Rio’s only gotten to where he is in life because he’s got a meticulous handle on the details. So he notices, and it makes him pause -- the reminder of who he is these days.
And he likes to think he’s a smart guy, evolved and shit. But, he’s got to admit he likes the thought of it -- his girl, Aphrodite trapped in suburbia (or was it Athena?), rolling up in the Wagon to some bougie yoga studio. Elizabeth would swing ‘round the back to grab her mat, doing that walk she does when she’s feeling herself as the other PTA chicks’ jaws drop. He likes the security of his second pair of keys in her hands, on her keychain.
What did it say about Elizabeth’s hold on him that he fuckin’ delights in this daydreaming?
And it’s complicated -- ‘cause on one hand, when did he become this guy? Actually, he knows. Three years, eight months, and two days ago. He’s not overly-obsessed with his relationship or anything, but a counter runs in his mind -- how long he’s been with her. So much so that he’s been thinking of getting the date of when she robbed him (the first time) on the inside of his wrist, a complement to the bracelets she’d bestowed him, to drag out as A Move during sex or to embarrass her in front of her friends.
And on the other hand, it’s like... damn, it’s been too long since they fucked in the car.
They cohabitate now -- them and all their kids. They still had an absurd amount of sex in public places (and shit, since when had that been his kink?). He still takes great delight in pushing all her buttons and getting her to unspool around his cock, on his mouth, and in his arms.
But, they were a lil’ calmer now, less feral. They had partially domesticated what this was and had fun in doing so. They shared a bed now, were crate-trained as it were.
She and hers are his family.
But, fuck, he’d been a strict no-strings-attached, hit-it-and-quit-it type of dude for years -- all of his adult life. It was what came with his job.
He had tried to do his best by Rhea when he had gotten her knocked up. But, looking back on it, the exercise had been doomed. When Marcus was born, Rio was in his late 20s rocketing to the top of the food chain. It had been a time when all he could do was keep his head down and do the work -- running in the streets, scheming, consolidating power, and ultimately, he had to make a choice.
Was he going to be a boss, a father, or a husband? To be honest, he only had time for one, but he did his best to make fatherhood fit.
It’s what it was all for in the end, right?
And yet, somehow despite all and many odds, here he was toting Elizabeth’s yoga mat around in his car. Mick rolls his eyes when he sees it, and there’s the typical jokes about being pussy-whipped and what not. But, yeah -- he loves her. At this point, he can’t really deny it. So, he laughs along with Mick’s jokes, and then sends him to chauffeur their million kids around, just to make sure he knows what's what.
Anyway, after a few weeks, Rio comes home from the gym and finds her practicing alone in the house, the kids scattered to their other respective households. Elizabeth’s got a video going on her phone, and her back is arched in a way he’s only ever seen in bed and she has to realize is provocative. But, she eyes him, self-conscious and with old defensiveness, as she twists into a few shapes.
He tries to keep it chill, knows about the residual feelings she carries about her body (and Christ, he can’t believe he’s only had the opportunity to shoot her ex-husband once, he should have taken his own advice and emptied the fucking clip). So he settles close to her with his battered copy of Edith Hamilton’s Mythology from highschool that he’s been trying to get back into, and steals glances at her over the pages.
He skims the pages on Athena and then Aphrodite, and he likes the hyperbole of each but neither quite fit.
He eventually comes back to Artemis.
And, yeah, maybe.
He looks up at Elizabeth again and admires her form. He admires her strength -- that reedy cord of tenacity he’s admired for so long making itself more visible through the facade of soft as she finds new ways to hold herself up and get herself stronger. Her hair keeps falling into her face and he itches to crawl on the mat with her and pull it out of her face.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
As she continues, Elizabeth notices him watching, and she starts to get a little playful. Eventually, he lures her off the mat and onto his lap.
Yoga becomes part of her routine on the days she doesn’t feel like driving into the studio. And he gets it. He’s always turned to grounding himself in his body when he’s needed to work through things. His first love had been basketball, soccer while on family vacations (and only with his cousins from Tamaulipas). In high school, it was track, and he still loves running, but with Detroit winters he’s mostly moved on to boxing and tennis. Never yoga, though.
And yeah, he has some reservations, and yeah, it makes him feel their differences. He’s a tad judgemental about the white-owned yoga studios gentrifying the fuck out of his city. Blocks he grew up running in Detroit-propper suddenly got white people eyein’ up his tats and clutching their wallets. And shit, when has yoga ever been for guys like him?
But, life increasingly becomes more complicated.
He can still like that E’s found something that’s for her and he likes the peace it brings her. He appreciates the way it unknots her shoulders, the particular vibe it gives their day afterward when she’s able to let go of some of that stress she carries. He tries to complement it by eating her out and that special type of really good sex that comes from whatever alchemy is between their bodies. And yeah, he likes the headspace it gets her in, how it shifts the way she approaches their work, and the new depth it adds to the way they touch each other when sex isn’t her only form of therapy.
So when she gets a water bottle with the yoga studio’s branding, Rio teases her a bit but he encourages her to go for the membership. Naturally, E being E, it don’t take her long to make nice with the owners. And then Elizabeth comes home excited about how she had just committed to doing a run of the studio’s promotional swag at the store. He and Elizabeth end up with a postcard on their fridge, a color photo of the studio’s abstract mural. The other side has text that advertises an event line up at the studio that includes a fucking “gong-bath”. It takes him a week to let it go.
Actually, he hasn’t. He still brings it up.
But, then a second yoga mat appears -- a green one -- tucked away in the spare bedroom, mostly hidden under some of her crafting materials. He finds it, wonders for a split second why she needs two and has an answering inkling of where this might be going.
The next day, a lil’ custom print for a “partners” yoga event gets pinned next to the first postcard on the fridge.
And like... he loves her and all. But, does it really go that deep?
Rio pauses in front of the fridge, sipping his tea and staring at the picture of a white dude balancing presumably his Black girlfriend in a pose above his head. His eyes track to where Elizabeth sits in the other room knitting and watching the latest episode of her British baking show (he has half the mind to submit her name to the American spin-off). Considering what she’s up to, she sits with her back a lil’ too straight (on edge one might say) clearly waiting for a comment or for him to show her some grace.
And…
Nope. He’s not going to make it that easy for her.
To her credit, after her episode is done, Elizabeth FaceTimes Ruby and asks her first. Then, as if to make a point that she’s rounding out her bases, she calls her sister. And it’s true that Marks’ sisters’ relationship is as close as it's ever been -- their family criming has forced Elizabeth to trust her sister with her life. But, damn, if he knows she don’t trust Annie to do anything remotely acrobatic, much less cartwheel Elizabeth into the air.
He settles at the island in their kitchen with his tea and his work. She’s got the call on speaker in the other room, when Annie asks, “And gang boo?”
“What about him?”
Rio scoffs loud enough to be heard in the other room.
“Why doesn’t he go with you?”
E pauses, probably fiddling with the strand of her knitting yarn on the couch behind him. “It just doesn’t really seem like his thing?”
Annie snorts. “Have you asked him?”
“No,” Elizabeth sighs into the phone, as if she isn’t a few paces away, having a very audible conversation.
“Don’t people usually go with their SO’s to these things? I mean I appreciate that you think I have the upper body strength for this, but you have to know that I will never in my life be able to do a push-up.”
“It was just a thought--”
Annie continues, stuck mid-rant, “And, like there’s no way I can be your counterweight. You have so much more body than me. We’re like completely different proportions. ”
“Well, so are me and Christopher.”
“Yeah, but Christopher actually has body strength. Lots of it. “ Annie retorts. “And he’s going to love you sweaty, and sticking your butt up into the air, bendy and wearing tight clothing--”
He bites at his bottom lip and supposes yeah, he could try it once.
“Okay, fine! I’ll ask him.”
Rio waits for her to come to him as he tries to make headway on his accounting. But, E doesn’t show.
Instead, it comes later -- when they’re in bed. She’s being extra-nice, extra-smiley, and charming, cracking jokes and making him laugh. He hates it except he also loves it -- when she thinks she can get the drop on him like her dumb ass ex-husband. Except, unfortunately for Rio, she really does know her target.
She waits until right after she blows him to ask.
Elizabeth crawls up his spent, panting body, and pins him with hers. She kisses him hotly with her mouth that tastes like his come and he fucking loves when she does that. Then, she retreats to bite playfully at his chin and asks if he’s seen the flyer on the refrigerator.
And he gives her a little shit about it but…
He admires the strategy
------
The couple's yoga class is on a Saturday morning.
It’s the middle of March, and he’s fucking over winter. Detroit, so far from Mexico and so close to being the fucking North Pole.
The temperature means he’s got to get bundled up in sweats, put on his damn parka and snow boots, all to take it back off again when he gets there. Apparently, the studio is heated perennially at 90 degrees. He don’t know how Elizabeth handles it, she’s so bothered by heat. He complains to her, and she reminds him that this is just like when he goes to the gym on his own. Except this time, they’re doing something together. And she’s being all shy in a way she usually isn’t any more around him and she’s fuckin’ happy he’s coming with her.
The night before she had presented the green mat to him. He had said “Thank you” como su mamá lo enseño, and committed to stepping outside of his comfort zone.
“Show me how this goes, darlin’?”
Elizabeth had swelled up with the thrill of explaining something to him, and launched into it, “Yoga’s basis is breathing…”
She had given him the low-down and gotten him started in the basic poses. He liked her hands, soft, and prim and careful, pushing and pulling at him and adjusting his posture. He had ended up fucking her on the mat -- as a proper thank you and to give her a little something to think about in class tomorrow as they contort their bodies in a way she’s adamant is not meant to be sexual.
And he’s not trying to be a dick or ruin the day for her, but he’s dragging his feet a little bit. He don’t really want to be spending his morning off, kid-less, in a room focusing on his breathing surrounded by crunchy, white gentrifiers.
And he might be simmering a choice comment about how it’s ironic that she wants him to focus on his breathing after she was the one who fucking shot him in the lung that one time...
But, he knows she’s not thinking of it like that and he knows if he just told it to her she’d get it. But, he don’t want to make it all about him and the struggle... and he’s rich now ain’t he? And Elizabeth’s excited to have him with her while she does her thing, excited to show him off -- and that gives him enough energy to walk through the door, green mat under one arm, and her hand in his.
Immediately, they’re ensconced in a wave of warmth as they step into the heated studio, and there’s an earthy smell hitting him strong. He zeroes in on the incense lit at the check-in counter and Rio’s nose wrinkles in distaste on its own accord.
Elizabeth squeezes her hand, in a silent reprimand. Behave. Then, she moves around the counter to hug some of the people hanging out back there.
There’s a flurry of introductions, a Bridgid, a Cassandra, Bryce, Patsy, and Tiffany. Tiffany is Black and he thinks Cassandra could be Latina… He ain’t sure. They’re all revealed to be instructors or staff of some kind and E seems to be chummy with all of them. He knows Tiffany is her favorite and will move heaven and hell (and their fucking drop schedule) to make it to class with her.
He isn’t sure exactly why so many of them are but apparently, they like to hang out here? His palms itch and he feels the sweat start to drip under his thick jacket.
E starts to pull off her winter clothes, as she lingers in conversation with Tiffany, asking her about her husband and how Tiffany’s weight training is going. He blinks at his girl and the shit she can pull out of her repertoire.
“I’m so glad you get to finally meet Christopher.”
Tiffany turns to smile wide at him. “Beth has made so much progress in the past few months.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” and she’s got a friendly vibe so he tries to dial up the charm. Smiling, and playing the proper beau, “She talks about y’all all the time.”
Behind them, he clocks that instructor, Brad or Bryce, checking out Elizabeth’s ass when she ain’t looking. And sure he’s about Rio’s height and got some definition on his abs, but his jaw’s too square like it’s never taken a hit, his muscles never used in a fight.
Rio snags the eyes of some chicks looking at him a little too eager. Damn, it’s Saturday morning and these people need to chill.
And he rolls his eyes, tsking, then steps closer and loops a hand around Elizabeth’s waist, drops it down to her ass for a moment. He makes a show of leaving a kiss against her temple and then he bounds towards the cubbies, ready to shed some clothes. His jacket is about to kill him.
As he peels off of the layers, he looks around, and okay -- it’s not as white as he worried it was. There’s other POC settling in for the class, at least one other interracial couple, too. And that Cassandra chick’s sweatshirt says “Chingona AF’ on the back. She’s the same shade of light brown as him, a mid-30s willowy mujer with a queer buzzcut.
He loosens up a bit and settles into the space. This heated shit is nice.
A few moments later, Elizabeth joins him and after they’re done tucking their stuff away, she draws him over to her favorite corner. They roll out their mats -- purple and green -- side-by-side.
They settle on their respective mats and Rio takes the opportunity to give Elizabeth the same once over that asshole did. Her ass really does look great in those pants and she could fill out any shirt. Her eyes linger over him too, tracing his skin, the bar tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that she’s seen a million times and then her eyes meet his and she gives him that small, crooked lil’ smile.
He’s not one for religion, but every so often he takes his mom to Spanish mass. All the viejitos and pious Catholic types think he’s a banger but his ma’s still excited to show him off. He sits with her in the pew and when the priest asks for the congregation to give thanks to God, he says a prayer for the riches that have come to him, the health and brilliance of his son, the vitality of the other little ones in his life now, and Elizabeth. And when he thinks of her in those moments, he sees her in his mind’s eye with this exact look on her face.
And to top it all off, the 90-degree heat is already working some kind of magic on the knot he’s been trying to get out of his shoulder for the past two weeks.
He smiles back at her.
“This shit is dope.”
“Yeah?”
He shrugs, playful. “I like the heat.”
She scoffs, still smiling, “Of course, you do. I thought I was going to pass out the first time I came.” He laughs and tallies a point. He called it. E shakes her head, “I had never sweat so much in my life.”
And it goes like that.
Right as class starts, a white guy with dreads and his skinny, blond girlfriend settle in the space next to them. The white dude turns to nod in acknowledgment, but his eyes drop down to take the ink at Rio’s throat. He tries to be subtle about it but he and the girl scoot a few inches away.
And he ain’t even seen all the old bullet wounds yet.
Rio turns to look at Beth. She’s also staring at the couple, her mouth settled in a thin line.
Then she meets his gaze.
One of the instructors starts calling the group in, welcoming them to class, and Elizabeth takes the last opportunity to gently careen into his side, and kiss him deeply.
Then she's back on her mat, listening attentively to the instructor like she didn’t just start some shit.
And yeah-- he and Elizabeth are different. They move through space differently, and she has access to things he never will no matter all the gems, rubies and diamonds, Mercedes and stacks he adds to his hoard of wealth, And Rio has wondered, worried, if there will ever be a day when they look at each other and decide they don’t fit anymore.
But, damn if she don’t make him feel alive like nothing else.
So as the instructor has them sit back-to-back and leads them through an opening meditation. It’s corny as shit and formal meditation is not really his thing, always having relied on sports (and fights and hits) as a substitute in the past.
But, he tries to settle here, in this room warm like a blanket, next to Elizabeth.
The class itself is pretty fun. The instructors are hands-on, demonstrating, and walking them through everything. It’s easy enough to pick up with them (and Elizabeth) giving him adjustments, and he likes the excuse to get his hands on her in a different kind of way.
He helps Elizabeth through some inversions, smirking down at her with this particular view of her cleavage. She gets a few, sneaky passes at him, and he don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling surrounded by a room of people, and a whole team of instructors circling them.
In one particularly nice sequence, Rio curls down into the mat in the child’s pose, Elizabeth had shown him as she stretches on top of him, her whole weight settling along him like a cocoon.
Damn, he’s going to make them take another class like this ain’t he?
The class eventually shifts into what the teachers call aerials.
He lays on his back and lofting E up into the air over him. It takes a little finagling to fully adjust to the distribution of her weight, she’s obviously top-heavy. He stares up at her -- her gorgeous, sweaty face smiling down at him -- and looks over the particular arc of her cleavage. And despite how much time he spends palming at Elizabeth’s tits, he underestimates how much they must hurt her back.
No wonder she needs this shit.
‘Course that’s when Bryce or Blake comes over to “check on their form” and is this guy really going to try to check out his girl’s ass again? Right, the fuck now?
Blake/Bryce pushes at Elizabeth’s shoulders trying to adjust her position and she maintains very apologetic eye contact with Rio. Huh. So, she’s aware.
Then, It all happens real fast. Her balance shifts and her hand, sweaty with the heat, slips across his palm and out of his grasp.
The realization hits him-- She’s gonna fall.
And for a brief, terrible moment, her face freezes above him skewed with panic and fear, and then, as if in slow motion, she floats closer, down to earth.
And he knows better. He fucking knows better from all his fucking years of boxing, the previously-mentioned lifetime of playing sports. But he clenches his damn, fucking jaw just as the crown of her head collides with him.
And there’s a sharp, bolt of pain spearing through his chin.
And in this room, this heated blanket, incense-burning, crunchy, granola room…
He’s knocked the fuck out.
-----
Well, then it’s a fucking show.
In the familiarity of Elizabeth walking into the studio, they hadn’t asked him to sign a liability waiver. Someone procures ice, and he cradles it to his chin as Bryce apologizes and asks if he can call an ambulance.
For a concussion.
And he’s pissed the fuck off but it’s still kind of funny? Because the only thing that had ever put him in a hospital had actually been this girl standing next to him (tal pesadilla when she put three slugs in his chest). But, he has to stop laughin’ because it hurts his jaw and they’re all looking at him like he’s nuts.
Elizabeth grips his free hand like a vice, and he’s nursing a hell of a headache, as he has to swear a million times that he ain’t gonna sue anyone. Then, finally, blessedly, they’re allowed to walk out.
Elizabeth insists on helping him into the car. Tiffany and Cassandra accompany them, helping Elizabeth carry all of their shit.
They stand at the curb watching, concern etched on their faces as Elizabeth reverses out of the snowbank and drives off. And Elizabeth drives because he most definitely has a concussion. And she drives them straight to the fucking ER.
They spend half an hour fighting parked in the lot outside. But, he knows concussions and he knows his limits.
He convinces her to take him home.
-----
The first twenty-four hours of the concussion are the most important. He’s not supposed to look at screens, not supposed to work. He knows his shit but Elizabeth reads at least ten internet articles on her phone as she lies in bed curled next to him.
They spend the childless afternoon with the curtains drawn, lying in their bed, not fucking.
But, the cuddling is good, too.
Elizabeth strokes up and down his arm and talks to him about little nothings to keep him company. She periodically gets up to grab him glasses of water and more ice. And this sucks, but all things considered, this might be the nicest concussion he’s ever had.
Eventually, they wander to the kitchen to figure out food.
Elizabeth pauses staring vacantly at the fridge. Then her shoulders start to shake, and now he’s wondering if she’s okay. But, her hand raises to unpin the flyer from the fridge and he hears the first snicker.
She turns to him, laughter breaking across her face, pointing to that ridiculous picture. He knows enough now to recognize Tiffany lofted in that showy, stupid af aerial pose.
He chuckles and then cringes as the pain at his chin flairs.
Elizabeth pouts but is still laughing to herself. She ambles over to him, wraps her arms loosely around his middle, and lays the softest kiss on his chin.
“I’m sorry, Christopher.”
He shakes his head, just a smidge because movement fucking sucks right now. “It ain’t your fault.”
“It was my idea.”
“It’s okay.”
She curls into him, deflating, crumbling the flyer into her fist. He gingerly rests his head on top of hers.
“I liked it.” He admits.
“You did?”
“Yeah.” The smell of her lavender-shampoo drifts into his orbit. “Liked you curled all around me. Liked touching you like that. Gave me some ideas.”
She nods below him, pulling him tighter. “I liked it, too.”
“You’ve gotten so strong now, Elizabeth.” He kisses her at her temple. “Maybe next time you should do all the lifting.”
She pinches him at the ribs. Then, “Next time?”
“I’ll tell you what.” He shifts back to make eye contact with her. “We get to do a whole lot of private practice.” He gives her a look to make it clear exactly what he means -- sex. “Then, we’re gonna go back and make sure Bryce is really sorry, ‘kay? Make sure he knows I’m still around.”
And Elizabeth beams that crooked little smile at him.
“Okay, but the next time you have to give me your hoodie or something.”
He nods, a smidge but still manages to imbue it with sage, territorial wisdom. “That would help.”
“Well, I meant more for me to...” She looks at him, eyes darting. “Claim you.”
I mean he is living for that but he frowns at her. “But, everyone there was a couple.”
Oh. Oh yes. Now he remembers.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “And I don’t share.”
Her hand drifts low on his back, then lower to curl a firm grip on his ass in the privacy of this home that they share.
Unfortunately, despite all this time, Elizabeth still doesn’t know when to quit when she’s ahead.
“Though, honestly, I don’t know why they kept staring at your butt.” She murmurs, sassing him while he’s down. “There’s nothing here.”
Esta pinche mujer. She’s lucky he loves her.
Fuckin’ adores her, really.
Damn.
#my writing#i have got to stop listening to the weeknd#i blame a choice few in the fandom#beth x rio#brio#nbc good girls#ahhhhhhhhh#please don't hate my soft!Rio
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The Treatment of Capt. Syverson-Chapter Two: Therapeutic Procedure
Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)
Summary: Shane and Sy share some moments during their treatment sessions…and a phone call that could set the tone for the next few weeks.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: None, yet… ;)
Author’s Note: Sorry, I was so eager and excited to post the first chapter of this last night, I totally put some inaccurate info in my description notes. I will correct that in the original post and try to do better henceforth! Hope you enjoy Sy and Shane totally flirting some more and getting more friendly in this chapter. Feedback is appreciated! Even constructive criticism! :D
Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.
Tags: @onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee
Let me know if you wish to be added to the list! I’m happy to do it!
Shane woke up that morning with knots in her stomach. She dropped every product she picked up in the shower, she was shaking so much. She accidentally ordered the wrong coffee on her way to work and was now drinking something much less caffeinated and far too sweet for her taste. The barista had informed her it was a grande caramel macchiato with an extra pump of vanilla and extra caramel drizzle…with only two shots of espresso…she couldn't begin to describe how wrong that drink was for her. But it was better than nothing, she told herself, not fully convincingly.
She had chosen her clothes with extra care, even though, with the dress code, her options were limited. And she had made sure to put on a bit of mascara and just a touch of perfume, even though they weren't strictly supposed to wear it…she didn't know why she was bothering.
Well, actually, she did know why. She had been checking her schedule extra diligently lately to make sure she didn't look like a hobo when Sy was coming in. He'd been coming for three weeks now, and after the initial bellyaching about Jordan not being as pretty as her…her heart!...and his feeling extra sore after his visits with him, they were on a roll and had a great chemistry together as far as their treatments went…she tried not to think about…beyond the world of therapy.
She thought back to their first session after she got back from her trip. And the conversation they had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I think the next time you can't see me, I'm just going to cancel." he had sulked as he wiggled his mass of muscle onto the mat.
"Sy, no. you need therapy. Don't be like that to Jordan. He's an excellent therapist."
"He ain't you though." he smirked, sending her heart racing with that smile that somehow managed to look both boyish and rakish under his full, dark beard. Fucking hell. He needed to stop.
"Well, we can't fault him for that, can we? Lay back, Mister." She demanded. Done with the niceties of the evaluation and onto the treatments where she was in charge. The boss.
"Yes, sir!" she laughed at his clear avoidance of calling her ma'am.
"So where'd you go last week? Vacation or stay-cation?" he asked, the term "stay-cation" sounding downright comical coming out of his country-boy mouth.
"I went to the beach. Gulf Shores."
"I thought you looked like you got some sun."
"Yeah," she pretended his noticing the detail of her awesome tan did not send her reeling. "My folks rented a condo right on the water for my siblings and I to come and stay with them. They're still there. It was tough to leave all that beauty." the beach, pretty much any beach, was her favorite place to be.
"I bet…" he looked at her, something dreamy in his eyes, but he looked away before she could process it. "I thought I had my fill of sand and sun when I was over in Iraq. But you make it sound…like paradise." he smiled softly up at her as she worked on his knee, trying to break apart some of the scar tissue from the injuries and surgeries he'd had…and focus on that, and not the warmth rising in her.
"That's the perfect way to describe any place on the Gulf of Mexico. I doubt it's anything like Iraq, since there's so much water around. It's my favorite vacation destination. Well, apart from London."
"Them British folks always seem so stuck up. Don't know if I'd get along with any of 'em."
"It felt like a second home for me. Everyone was very kind and polite, for the most part. At least it was no worse than it is here."
"Maybe it's just because you're so nice."
"Wait 'til about week eight or ten of your protocol. You won't think I'm nice then. You'll be cussing me out and ready to ring my neck."
"Promise?" he asked, a dark grin on his lips and in his eyes…she faltered for a moment, gulping.
"Cut it out, Syverson." she rolled her eyes, covering…without great effect the way he made her feel.
"Yes...ma'am." he smirked with satisfaction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And now, today, she'd be treating him again, fairly early in the day, and she had to prepare herself. She'd checked the policy, and although there wasn't anything strictly against dating a patient, it was clearly a conflict of interest, and would be frowned upon by her frigid tyrant of a boss. Best to let things remain platonic for now.
Her 9:30 was a no show, so she finished up some notes and was working on some continuing education credits when messenger popped up around 10:00.
Sergeant Sexypants is here. He's quite early and he knows it…*smirk emoji* he must like you, Shane!
Heather, come on, be respectful…he was discharged at the rank of Captain! *rofl emoji* and I think you might be right about him liking me…*nervous emoji*
Oooooooooh!!! You guys are gonna *couple kissing emoji* *eggplant emoji* *okay emoji* *explosion emoji* *baby emoji*
Omg…*three facepalm emojis* I am going to go ahead and start him early since my 9:30 was a NCNS.
Don't finish him too early. Make it last. *smirk emoji*
Jeez. She closed the chat and went to grab him from the waiting area.
"Hey Sy, you ready?"
"You bet, sunshine!" he flashed her a crooked smile. He was calling her sunshine now…ad that to the list of things she'd have to pretend didn't make her swoon.
"Great. Let's start on the bike. How's the knee feeling today?"
"Oh, it's…about the same. Stiff. Lil' sore."
"Well, it's a slow process, like I told you at your eval. You've got a lot going on in there."
"I know…just…it hasn't taken me four weeks to do anything in my life." he sulked. "So…thinking about this taking…twelve or more…" he grimaced as he sat down on the bike, and adjusted it for his longer than average legs, putting his feet in the pedal stirrups.
"You may not see it, Sy, because you're so close to it, but trust me, you're making progress. I can tell you're doing your exercises at home, and you're always willing to put in the work here. You have no idea how much that sets you apart from…some of these other people." she leaned in closer and spoke the last part more quietly to him. It was true. So many of her patients were either lazy or just in it to appease their MDs into writing them scripts for pain meds. That wasn't Sy.
"You really think so?" he gave her the side eye with his baby blues, crushing her with the color like the waves of the ocean she'd just returned from.
"In fact, I know so." she placed a reassuring hand on his broad and thick shoulder. She felt the tension between them hum, like electric current.
"Now, level one, and a steady pace. You're not trying to win any medals here. I'll take those crutches."
"When ya think I can 86 'em damn things?" he griped as he handed over the assistive devices.
"Well, you see Potter again tomorrow? I'll write an update today and send it to him. If he likes what he reads, or more likely pretends to read, regarding your progress, he may discharge them. Do you feel like you can be good to the knee and treat it nice without using crutches? I don't want you to regress and re-injure yourself. That's not gonna get you into your running shoes any sooner."
"I'll be nice. Real gentle." he winked at her…he wasn't just talking about the knee. And she knew it. But again, she pretended she didn't, ignoring once more those butterflies threatening to choke her they were multiplying so fast in her belly.
"Okay, I'll put that in my note. Patient compliant with instructions to be nice." she laughed.
They talked as they biked, Shane sat on the one next to him and pedaled along with him for something to do other than be idle. She thought it made him feel better as well. Like he wasn't doing it alone. They covered the subject of her siblings, an older brother in IT and a younger sister who was an MA, and his German Shepherd, Aika, which he was allowed to bring home from Iraq after they were both honorably discharged. Music, both of them completely in agreeance about the superiority of classic rock.
"I noticed you've worn a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt a few times and meant to say something before now."
"Yeah, they're one of my favorites. But there are a few newer groups that I like a lot, too. Kings of Leon got me through some tough times, honestly."
"Oh, they're great! I love their sound. And their lyrics…poetry."
"No shit. Sorry." she shook her head and raised up her hands to indicate that he didn't need to apologize to her for swearing. She'd been known to make sailors blush when she was off the clock. "Only by the Night…that whole album is…it's just in my blood, ya know? Ya ever have an album do that?"
"I have. Whole artists catalogs, actually."
"Which artist?" he prodded.
"The Beatles. Pretty much every song. Like you said, it just, like, I dunno, it's almost deeper than the veins. It's in the marrow. My soul." she stared off out the windows ahead of them, thinking about her favorite band in the world and how magical it was to experience Sir Paul McCartney playing some of her favorites live…twice…and the timer on the bike went off, pulling her from her daydream.
She looked over at him, startled by both the noise, and the dreamy look in his eyes that was becoming all too familiar.
"Sorry." she stood, grabbing his crutches for him and handing them back to him from where she had leaned them as they rode.
"Hey, don't be sorry for…ahem…for loving what you love. We should all…hold on to the things that make us feel like that." she nodded.
"Thanks…I don't think a lot of people…understand the way I…my tendency to take things like music, movies, and shows…books…so deeply to my heart." they walked to the treatment room from the gym, taking their time, since they had it. A rare occurrence for Shane, always needing to capitalize on every spare minute. To make productivity a priority.
"I think…that…well, seeing a pretty grim side of the world like I have…seems like there's enough darkness and bullshit making everyone miserable. If we find something…or…someone…that brings us some happiness or even just makes that misery bearable…we oughta hang onto 'em real tight. Cherish it like gold." the silence in the small room was loud with that electrical hum of their tension again. He'd said all the right things, as he always seemed to, but under the absolute wrong circumstances. She just nodded.
"They teach you philosophy in Basic?" she giggled. He laughed back in response.
"Oh, no, Basic was way easier than…whatever goes on inside of us."
"Speaking of which," she segued deftly, "lay back, and let my try to get some range out of that knee before I take new measurements for this update I'm gonna write."
"Yes, ma'am!" he chuckled.
"You get some sick thrill out of calling me that, don't you?" she scowled playfully at him.
"Oh, you have no idea…ma'am." he winked at her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Shane was wondering how Sy's appointment went as she ate her soup at lunch and caught up on her morning notes. She got a ping on messenger.
You have a gentleman caller…*eggplant emoji* hehe, he's on line three.
Geez…thanks Heather.
No need to ask for a name. She knew Heather meant Sy.
She picked up the phone at her desk in the treatment room.
"Hey Sy! How'd the appointment go?"
"Hey, sunshine…eh…he said I'm doin' good, but he wants me to stay on crutches another two weeks." she could hear grave disappointment in his voice. She felt for him.
"Aww, I'm sorry Sy. I know you wanted off those. And I know they're a pain. Literally and figuratively."
"Why wouldn't he want me off 'em?" he was so frustrated. He must have just left the office.
"Did you ask him that question?"
"You know doctors, Shane. Not like I would have got an answer in plain English. Figured you'd know."
"Well, I haven't seen your post-visit report, but it's my presumption that he wants to play it safe. You know he spent most of his day in the operating room with you, right? An eight hour surgery, you had. He probably doesn't want to undo all that by d/c'ing the crutches too soon."
"I was gonna be careful though, Shane!" he was worked up properly, and she could hear it over the roar of his pickup in the background.
"I know you were, Sy. I'm sure you were going to take all kinds of precautions. But what if you're walking into your kitchen, during a storm, and there's a loud clap of thunder, and Aika gets startled and busts past you? What if you're feeling good one day, and forget about it, and jog to catch up to someone holding the door open for you and miss a stick or something under foot? You can't prepare yourself for every pebble or patch of mud in your path, Sy. Accidents will happen. Some circumstances are beyond our control…we just have to do the best we can. The crutches are going to help you until we get you stronger. That's what we'll focus on until those two weeks are up."
"Why is it you can calm me down like this?" he asked, sincere and truly calmer than he had been.
"I'm just a good therapist, is all."
"Ya don't think that's really all, do ya?" the sound of his deep drawl in her ear from the receiver made her shiver. He was implying something that she just couldn't entertain. It wasn't possible for them right now. Maybe…down the road…in a few weeks…
"I'll see ya tomorrow, Sy. Come ready to work that knee."
"You didn't say no…" he was too hopeful. Damn it, he was cute when he was hopeful. She was glad she couldn't see his face light up like she knew it was doing.
"You may have noted I didn't say yes, either."
"Yet. See ya in the mornin', sunshine."
"Bye, Sy."
She put the receiver in the cradle and her face in her hands.
"Shit."
She had a feeling this particular patient was about to become much more complicated.
Up Next: Chapter Three-Therapeutic Activity
#netflix sand castle#sand castle#henry cavill#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill x ofc#captain syverson#captain syverson fanfic#captain syverson x ofc
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SJTR is my villain origin story
So I finished Stalking Jack the Ripper.
Originally I told myself that I was going to just stick it out and read the next one (“Oh, it’s about vampires and Dracula. It’s probably more fun. You can forget all about the pain this one inflicted on you"). No. I got 12% of the way through and had to DNF. So here are my messily compiled thoughts on the book, basically expanded from the last post. Honestly, kind of feel free knowing I won’t be writing more about this series. (Also I am adding some TWs down below but don't know if I am doing them right!)
More on the exoticism, weirdness with Audrey Rose's Indian mother, and the British Empire:
In chapter 14, we read, "Dark strands of hair were piled atop my head, my eyes more mysterious somehow with the dark liner, and my lips were the bright crimson of freshly spilled blood … I thought of my mother and the saris she’d brought me to wear from Grandmama’s homeland. I felt just as stunning now as I did then, and the memory warmed me.” I am still trying to figure out why Maniscalco made Audrey Rose mixed race. Why is Audrey Rose’s grandmother from India? Literally, what did it add to the story? Was it nothing more than just a cute lil quirky fun character trait to her? I don’t think I missed any key moments where there were important conversations about race, imperialism, British occupation, etc., mostly because Audrey Rose’s father (a big fancy rich lord) is a white man and because Audrey Rose is white-passing. I can’t recall any moments in the book where she faces the realities/consequences of being a socially mobile POC WOMAN in LONDON IN THE 1880s. Honestly, if someone else can point out a passage I glossed over or explain some nuance I missed I would actually really appreciate it, because this drove me CRAZY.
(Audrey Rose and her brother also go visit a circus in town in chapter 15; of course these events existed purely for England/colonizing countries to exercise and display their power and to exoticize/exploit the communities/cultures that they came into contact with. Audrey Rose sees silks, beads, etc. that remind her of her grandmother’s saris, smells the foods of her family’s “homeland,” etc. Also in the same chapter there’s this great scene where her brother is describing their mother and father’s marriage: “Grandmama told me she’d refused him twenty times just for fun,” Nathaniel replied. “Said he squirmed like a cobra in a basket. That’s how she knew he was in love.” Uhhh … Is that supposed to be romantic?)
On the feminism stuff:
I am too *gestures vaguely* to write much more on this. Yeah, it’s heavy-handed. Yeah, it’s cringey. But at the end of the day, it’s not really that harmful, I guess. Here’s just a fun sampling of some of my favorite lines from the book:A few of my favorite bites from the book:
***“close-minded society” (chapter 21) Okay
***"Why turn a murderer of women into front-page news?” (chapter 15) Bro do you know how the media works
***"But what of her [mother’s] insistence that I could be both strong and beautiful? Surely Father had to be wrong.” (chapter 21) Yes girl you are strong and beautiful!
***"There would be no skirts or bustles to wrangle with anymore. I was through with things confining me” (chapter 22) Ugh down with corsets just another tool of the patriarchy amirite
On the violence against women, weird classism, and stuff about prostitution:
I was bound to be uncomfortable about a lot of this because I have weird feelings about true crime stuff, and this is historical fiction set around the Jack the Ripper murders. It was going to go sour somewhere.
Consistently Audrey Rose wants to be sympathetic, but is unable to connect all the parts of this situation together: she struggles to imagine the women (very real-life victims) beyond their lives of prostitution, poverty, squalor. When she does, we see something like this: "The women he murdered did matter ... They were daughters and wives and mothers and sisters” (chapter 28). Oftentimes she wishes she could continue to cut cadavers open in peace (women in science!) without having to think about how those cadavers came to be on her examination table: “I needed to get away from those women and their tragic lives before my emotions got the better of me” (chapter 25). Perhaps Maniscalco deserves more credit here, and perhaps I’m just being a bitch, because Audrey Rose is a very privileged girl and her actions and thoughts make that clear. It’s just that the conclusions she comes to in the name of feminism, justice, etc. weren’t at all satisfying to me.
Also: OH MY GOD. Oh my god. There is this one moment that is BRANDED AGAINST THE GRAY MATTER OF MY BRAIN FOREVER and I will never forget it. At one point, Audrey Rose and love interest Thomas decide the best thing they can do is go out and—yes—stalk Jack the Ripper. To do this, they know they need to “blend in” with the crowds in East End. So … like … cosplaying as poor people? Audrey Rose manages to find and wear the dress of ONE OF THE MURDER VICTIMS (long story short her medical doctor uncle was in a relationship with this woman and when she died he acquired her worldly possessions). It’s like, so fucked up, I can’t even describe my reaction when I read it. In chapter 25 we read, "The dress was a little too old, a little too ragged, a bit too big. If I were to wear this ghastly dress out, I’d look as if I belonged in the East End, begging for work to feed my addictions … It was absolutely perfect.” Oh my god. And THAT’S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. While they’re “stalking Jack the Ripper” on this incredibly stupid mission, the two main characters just … make out in an alley. Like, okay. People are being murdered and you’re wearing a dead woman’s dress and you suspect your father of being guilty, but yeah, that kind of stuff makes us all a little horny. Super relatable. Absolutely no concept of reality or consequences or anything at all.
Another random note on class: I noticed the only time Maniscalco writes in dialects/accents, she’s writing seedy/working-class characters. Not saying this is a problem unique to Maniscalco’s writing by a longshot, but ... something to think on. (I think it’s ingrained in a lot of author’s writing habits/minds at this point.)
Weird stuff about the dad, the brother, and what justice means to Audrey Rose:
I had to add a whole new highlighting color for this stuff!
Any growth Audrey Rose might’ve shown over the course of the novel—anything about how these women mattered, and how they deserved justice as any “highborn” individual might, simply by dint of being humans—goes away when she and Thomas come to the conclusion that the Ripper murders must have been committed by Audrey Rose’s father. She realizes her moral dilemma when she contends with the harsh reality: if her father is the Ripper, can she turn him into the authorities? Audrey Rose worries how that might impact her own moral virtue: "They’d hang Father. Given who he was, they’d make it as public and brutal as possible. Just because blood might stain his hands did not mean I wanted his on mine. No matter if it was right or wrong” (chapter 24). First of all, BITCH. You have to. You have to report this kind of thing. No ifs, ands, or buts. I HAVE to imagine Maniscalco’s intended audience would feel the same? It’s? Serial murder? Second: Audrey Rose, baby, sweetie, honey. This is just a reminder that ACAB. I actually don’t know a whole lot about how the late Victorian criminal justice system functioned, but something tells me her family's public outlook would’ve been less bleak than she imagines here.
Lucky for Audrey Rose, her dad isn’t guilty in the end—but her brother sure is. He’s a mad scientist, using the brutalized bodies and souvenirs of his victims for Frankenstein-style experiments. Ultimately, he wants to reanimate the corpse of his and Audrey Rose’s long-dead mother, and he believes he can achieve this by transplanting fresh organs into ? Her dead and decomposed body? The thing is that, this moral dilemma persists for Audrey Rose—and her dad, too. He pressures her not to bring the little matter of Nathaniel’s issue—you know, his casual murder of a number of local women—to Scotland Yard: “They’ll have your brother hanged,” he said quietly. “Could you honestly watch that happen? As a family, have we not suffered enough?” (chapter 29). Nathaniel electrocutes himself to evade capture by the authorities, and Audrey Rose and her father feel relief. The book ends by confirming that "Lord Edmund covered up Nathaniel’s involvement, I didn’t ask how. One day I’d let everyone know the truth, but the pain was too raw now” (chapter 30).
((Side note: Listen. I knew Nathaniel had something sinister going on from the GET-GO (I’m not trying to be obnoxious) because he basically started some nighttime vigilante group called the Whitechapel Knights of Justice or whatever bullshit, I don’t know. All I know is that my red flags IMMEDIATELY started going off because that sounds exactly like the terrible and awful Crusader cosplay clubs from my (bad) Catholic childhood, where everyone thinks they’re a knight for Good but really they’re the bad guy.))
Overall, kind of ...
I think one of my biggest issues with this ending was … You have already stepped into a realm of fantastical revisionist history here in writing such a fictionalized version of these real-life events. (I know Maniscalco is far from the first to do it.) That means that the rules you are playing by are essentially your own—evidenced by the liberties she points out in her Author’s/Historical note (dates changed for convenience or storytelling purposes, real-life individuals changed for narrative purposes, etc.). So WHY would you not conclude this fantasy retelling of the Jack the Ripper murders by meting out some form of justice? I hear the counterargument: "Well, because we still don’t know the culprit today. This book would ring hollow if it named someone since historians, forensic scientists, etc. still don’t know who committed these crimes." My question: is that really a problem though? This is a work of fiction. Nothing in history happened the way it is written here. Is it crueler to the women who were murdered and who remain spectacles for true crime junkies and authors like this, less satisfying to readers who want some more concrete kind of closure, to not offer that up? I am asking this in earnest here, because I don’t know. Maybe it is insensitive to make up a murderer, to fill in the gaps in order to make sense of the violence that happened. But in my brain it feels almost like a responsibility at this point, since these murders served as the backdrop for the romance between Audrey Rose and Thomas, for the background to Audrey Rose’s empty feminist diatribes, and as inspiration for a book that went on far longer than it needed to. To me it kind of feels like the least an author could do, but I have no clue.
Anyways, I'm just glad I get to put this series to bed. No more.I truly lost sleep over it this weekend. Onto something better, please, for the love of god.
#mnc reads#mnc writes#stalking jack the ripper#sjtr#I dont know what to tag this as but I dont want to leave anything out!#tw death#tw suicice#body horror#violence#classism#I guess#racism#maybe#I dont know#Im sorry
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Twisted Wonderland: Academic Headcanons pt.3
(Originally, the dormatories featured were going to follow the order in which they were initially revealed. However, there was a special request for Ignihyde and Savanclaw, and lord knows I can't turn down an eager fan! 😊)
Ignihyde
Idia Shroud:
- Idia's test scores are above average, but his class participation and p.e. grades are sorely lacking. He skips classes far too often to be consider a good student.
- If ebooks are not an option, he’ll do a quick read through of the chapter and does the rest online. Like with everything else Idia does, he usually studies alone within the confines of his dorm room.
- All of his notes are typed into google word (or whatever the tw equivalent of that is), usually in bullet points. Occasionally he’ll add wry comments next to parts he finds ridiculous or entertaining.
- Avoids study groups like the plague. Idia does not do socializing and knows study groups are more about the “group” and less about “studying”.
- Once again, Idia does NOT do socializing; tutoring included. Now, if you get in contact with him online and set up a specific chat room he might be willing to help out. But be prepared! He’s quick with a keyboard and will mercilessly tease you for even the simplest of mistakes.
Ortho Shroud:
- No one (but Idia; maybe Crowley) knows where this kid came from, or even which grade his supposed to be in, but the teachers love him, nonetheless. Ortho’s scores are phenomenal in all subjects. It helps that he’s a complete sweetheart to everyone..no matter how grumpy and dead inside they act!
- Literally reads his textbooks cover to cover at the beginning of the semester and can relay everything he read without screwing up a single word. Lil’ guy doesn’t need to study! If the teachers mention something he’s unfamiliar with, Ortho will either make a trip to the library or look it up online.
- Doesn’t need to take notes for the same reason he doesn’t study. After watching Kalim doodle in his notebook, though, the little guy decided to carry around a “doodle book” of his own. It would be extremely cute, if he didn’t always draw an exact image of the classroom without even glancing at the paper.
- He’s usually hanging around with Idia, but study groups would probably be a lot of fun to him! Trey has invited the little guy to join the Heartslabyul dorm’s group for a while now, but he refuses unless Idia feels like joining....which has, and will never happen.
- Ortho, when in “teach” mode, sounds like Siri- you know, if she were a shota with a “cheerful” setting. He answers every question promptly, logically, and with no errors whatsoever. Sometimes, he’ll attempt to use an analogy or new phrase someone mentioned to add some flavor to the lesson; it’s like watching your grandfather trying to be “hip” when your friends are around, exceedingly uncomfortable.
Savanaclaw
Leona Kingscholar:
- You know that one guy who hardly puts an effort into actually learning, but somehow manages to ace their exams? Yeah, that’s Leona in a nut shell. “Life’s not fair...” Damn right it’s not!
- He’ll flip through the chapter once, twice if it suits him, then toss the textbook onto the floor until the teacher gives the next assignment. He’s never suggested it, but everyone suspects him of having a photographic memory.
- His notes are incomprehensible scribbles of whatever he thought was interesting. If the class is studying something with a diagram, Leona will make a sketchy copy of it in his notebook and label once class is through.
- Leona makes a point of never openly accepting a study group invitation, opting to answer with a “definite maybe.” There’s a 50/50 chance he’ll turn up, when he does it’s because someone mentioned free snacks. Usually, he’ll just pick a spot to spread out across (preferably a couch, but tables are fair game too) and wait for a chance to add some sort of sarcastic comment or make an incredibly inappropriate joke. He’s permanently banned from the Heartslabyul dorm...Riddle says the cat knows why.
- Teach? Him?! Hah, Good luck with that! Leona’s explanations are just as half-assed as his hairdo (Oh no, my inner Vil is coming out). If you’re having difficulty with a particular problem he’ll make some demeaning joke to remind you of his intellectual superiority, solve it in his head, and leave you to figure out how he did it. The only alternative is reserved for those the prince deems as “cute;” in which case, be prepared for an onslaught of flirtatious advances and sexy teacher jokes.
Jack Howl:
- Despite his rebellious attitude and delinquent status, Jack is actually a fantastic student. He wants to become stronger; not just physically, mentally too! The only way to usurp the hierarchy is by educating the masses, after all!
- Jack spends a good chunk of his time either studying or training, usually in the same place. He’ll read through the chapters multiple times, look up references, and, if there is any, research opposing points of view.
- Waste not, want not. Every page in his notebook is crammed with notes, terms, definitions, and diagrams that somehow make perfect sense to him. He can never seem to keep track of his pencil, leading him to use whatever writing utensil is on hand, including washable marker and crayon.
- No. Just, no to the study groups.
- Persistence is key to getting him to tutor you. Well, that, and the ability to not be annoying. Once those are covered, you’ll have yourself a decent instructor! Jack is direct and honest when helping you through any problem. If you have a question he doesn’t know, then he’ll help research it until you have a satisfactory answer.
Ruggie Bucchie:
- A surprisingly good student. Ruggie knows the value of a good education and refuses to allow this opportunity slip through his fingers. Good grades means a chance at a good job, and a good job means he’ll never go hungry again!
- Studies before and in between classes. He’ll flip through the chapter first, familiarize himself with the main topics as well as a few of the terms, then read the contents.
- Ruggie writes his notes as he reads through the chapter, so his handwriting is a little messy. He tests his knowledge be rewriting previous notes from memory, repeating the exercise until he’s pleased with the results.
- Loves study groups! He gets to joke around with friends while also getting more time to memorize term definitions; kill two birds with one stone! The Heartslabyul study group even offers snacks, how great is that?!
- Doesn’t really like acting like a tutor...it feels awkward to him. Ruggie would much rather be your study buddy.
#twisted wonderland headcanons#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#ignihyde#savanaclaw#idia shroud#ortho shroud#leona kingscholar#jack howl#ruggie bucchie
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lil’ love potion
a/n: wow i fin a ll y wrote something i had a strong idea for, what a s h o c k e r, anyway i had a fun time writing this since wow i wuv hyuck n everything he does is just ama zin g. its dedicated to my lil sunflower @neo-cult-ure !! hope you enjoy it :( (kinda shakey because of caffeine and lack of sleep so pl s dont pay attention to spelling mis ta kes )
genre: fluff
word count: 1.7k
summary: donghyuck, your crush, dance teacher, and friend, has you come over after a late night of practice.
The boy sighed as he walked around the small studio, waiting for you to come through the doors at any minute. He was stressed obviously, not knowing how to make you learn the dance faster, not because you had to or anything was rushing the two of you, it's just that he noticed you getting frustrated whenever you would mess up or fall a bit on the tempo. He knew how it could be for a person that had just started learning their favorite idols' dances, it reminded him a bit too much of how he used to be when he'd started. Though, he did get a bit more help from his relatives, yknow, being a wizard and all he had books that had been handed down to him that he refused to use unless it was extremely needed. He played the song, wanting to start with something easy so a girl group's song would've been easier on your body, structure and all.
"FANCY" had started blaring through the speakers, the boy running to the middle of the room to get in position and revise what he had taught himself that morning, seeing if he would mess up because that would be catastrophic in his mind, messing up while teaching you something you thought he was good at. His masculine body moved through as gracefully as possible, though he nailed the whole dance, he still found where he messed up, going over and over the same part till he got it completely right, for you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he kept on exclaiming, running a hand through his hair before he slumped down on the ground, running the small drops of sweat that had started to form on his forehead and cheeks. You'd been watching him dance the part over and over, impressed, though confused on why he was being so hard on himself when even you didn't see the mistake. When he'd fallen over you quickly ran over thinking he passed out or something from exhaustion, which wasn't such a rare occurrence and was making you worry about the boy even more.
"Donghyuck," you said, pressing your cold hands to his wet and pink cheeks, "Are you okay?" He sighed out and you wondered what had been stressing him so badly, whether it was the dance or schoolwork. Truth be told, it had been you and your cute face that made him so flustered and forced him to close his eyes and roll on his tummy from how fast his heart was beating. "Geez, could you stop stalking me," he scoffed and managed to pull himself up before leaning over to hug you, the soft smell of not only your shower gel but also your coffee made everything he was saying about himself go away. It was obvious to everyone how much he liked you, he practically adored you and the thought of you being with him, though there were times where he thought you wouldn't even dare to do with someone like him. "Are you ready? Do I have to tie your shoelaces again just like the last few billion practices?" he teased you because he knew you were clumsy and couldn't bother to tie them amid practice.
You guys played around for a bit before starting to warm up, the new odd exercises making your hips sore out of nowhere. He knew you wouldn't be flexible and would need to warm up lots, he cared for you and a sprained muscle was the thing he wouldn't want to happen to you. Once he'd started teaching you, you noticed how he positioned your arms and used a different count-system to make you get accustomed to the tempo, catching the beat, everything you didn't bother about focusing because his voice counting to the melody was enough for you to remember it. You were happy with how quick he'd helped you learn since he knew you were impatient with yourself just like he was with himself. You danced along with him and managed to finish the intro and the first part that lead to the chorus, feeling happy and satisfied with yourself, for the most part, you leaned over to Donghyuck, wrapping your arms around him and whining, "Hyuck, I'm tired, can we go now? Let's finish it tomorrow!" you said and heard him sigh, though he knew it was too late to just let you go home by yourself, so you'd stay over at his place for a bit.
It was a quiet walk to his place, the boy seemed fairly off about something but he didn't dare say anything whenever you asked if he was okay or not. Even if he did seem okay he had a lot on his mind, wondering how the fuck he was going to hide the books from his parents before you even managed to see them. His apartment was a mess, potion recipes all over the place, hopefully, however, you wouldn't notice them once you walked inside. All of the recipes were some form of 'love' potion and he wasn't just going to reveal his never-ending crush on you, nor was he going to try out one on you and not reverse it immediately, similar recipes to reversal spells all over his living room floor. He was thoughtful, he knew he had flaws more than a normal person would, which is why he'd thought you wouldn't be interested in him, he was too weird for you to like him like that.
"Donghyuck!" he snapped out of his worried thoughts and looked up at you with a slightly tilted head, "Unlock the door," you said blankly and the boy mentally kicked himself for not noticing that the two of you had been standing for quite a while in the cold. He apologized before quickly unlocking the door and running in first to pick up all of the papers everywhere but before he could do anything your figure rushed inside right behind him. "What are these?" you asked, picking up one of the pieces of paper from his hands, the boy swallowing a bit too hard at the thought of what you'd think. "Ah! This would be fun to make!" You pointed the paper to Donghyuck, "You have the ingredients, right?" he nodded, head slumping down as he set all of the papers down and decided to take your coat and bag.
"You wanna," he stopped in his tracks to his room a bit, "You want some of my clothes? To like, get comfy and all?" he asked you and of course you couldn't pass up the option to wear something of his, he always smelled so nice and his clothing was always loose around you. You followed him and he gave you a pair of pajamas before leaving the room to change in the bathroom and let you have your peace. Once the two of you met back in the living room, the actual potion-making had started, gathering all the ingredients first was the most important thing before you moved to the kitchen. It did state that the potion had to be put in a warm glass bottle before drunk, and so, the boy provided everything that you needed, even if some of the ingredients sounded a bit odd. "Did you put a pan outside to collect rainwater for this?" He hummed in response, watching you shrug and pour in the water, his lower lip between his teeth. He knew it would work since he was in presence, he was scared that he might not be able to reverse it after a while, however.
After about an hour and a half, the whole house smelled like apple pie, Donghyuck jumping up to take it off of the stove, telling you that he'll bring it over in a bit. He wasn't going to taste it since you had wanted it he was going to leave it for you. He watched you drink it up bit by bit, his leg moving up and down, squeezing his fingers, biting his lip, he was anxious. "How is it?" he asked, "Do you feel anything?" You raised your brow at him, shaking your head, "What am I supposed to feel?"
"Love."
"This potion didn't make my love for you even stronger, it sucks," you blurted out, raising the little bottle to take in the little sip that was left, the last sentence you'd said out of the blue making him confused. He felt a bit relieved, maybe it was the potion working."It doesn't even taste like apple pie," you pouted before looking at him and his expression. He was blushing. "Hyuckie, what's wrong? Did I say something bad?" you asked him over and over and he still couldn't believe what he'd heard you say. He moved without thinking and sat next to you, bringing his knees to his chest and moving one hand to softly trace over your fingers.
He was calm and happy for once, "You really like me?" he mumbled out and glanced at you, his grey bangs covering most of his eyes so you weren't able to see how teary-eyed he'd become. You softly grabbed his hand, earning a small gasp of relief from the boy, Hyuck, of course, I like you, I think I've been pretty obvious about that by now," you sand softly and turned toward him, your other hand grabbing to caress his cheek, "You're literally the cutest person ever, how could i not?" You felt your hand encounter something wet, probably a tear that he shed because he'd never really been complimented on his cuteness. "I really like you too," he said, "Like, more than a lot, it's indescribable even," he quickly leaned over to press a peck on your cheek, your skin encountering his burning and pink cheeks. He was shy, embarrassed even and too scared to initiate anything in case you were uncomfortable. Though you weren't disappointed when you'd kissed him, he didn't move for a second, not realizing what was happening at the moment, it was a shock to him. Eventually, he kissed back and pulled you closer, his hands gently resting on your waist as he pulled you even closer, letting out a soft whine when he'd pulled back because of lack of air. "Wanna make another potion tomorrow?" he asked softly, knowing he would suddenly be interested in the books he was given on his birthday, happy to see you agree.
The two of you fell asleep on his couch that night, happy that somehow his weird magic scripts brought the two of you together.
#cznnet#nct donghyuck#lee donghyuck#donghyuck soft hours#donghyuck fluff#haechan fluff#lee haechan fluff#nct 127 soft hours#nct dream haechan#nct dream#nct dream fluff#nct soft hours#soft hours#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct dream oneshot#g: fluff#nct fic
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It’s a Boy-Girl Thing - E.D.
Authors note: I’M BACK! for those who care: my holiday was sO MUCH FUN OH MY GOD!! I had the bEST time!!! sadly school has started again and i’m drowning in homework again!!!
disclaimer 1: over these past few weeks I’ve received so many asks about whether or not I was still gonna update this: the answer is YES!
I hate the feeling of letting you all wait or maybe letting you down when i’m not posting as often as i (and you) would want me to.
the things is that (and this might come as a shocker) actually do have a life outside of tumblr. I’m in my senior year of high school and I trying to get good grades, so I can get into a good university next year...
I do love writing this and I am so excited to continue writing this story (and more!!) and I will not stop until this story is finished!!! I promise ahha!! I see those messages as a compliment (bc apparently you all like this very much and want to read more) but sometimes they make me feel a little bad/stressed because i feel like I’m let you all down... so yea..... I hope you all understand!
(what im trying to say is that i dont really mind those asks but at the same time it won't help asking bc YES i will be updating: but only when I’m able to...) (which will be regularly again next week!!!!) (promise)
disclaimer 2: this wasn't proofread so my apologies for any (loads of) spelling/grammar error!!!!! im a dyslectic assclown who cant spell to safe their own life so yea... just a lil heads up
Part 9 一 ANIMOSITY
Summary: Ethan and Y/N are neighbors. And although Y/N is on good terms with Ethan’s twin brother Grayson, Y/N and Ethan loathe each other and are constantly in dispute. Ethan is a populair varsity football player, who likes to be in the spotlight. Y/N prefers to stay under the radar, while reading books and poetry.
Although the constant bickering between the two drives everyone around them crazy - the two live their separate lives peacefully. At least that’s how it was until they wake up one morning and every had changed…
PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10
You liked sports. You honestly liked being active. But not in late summer, when it was hot like an oven outside and the air humid.
You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, your shirt completely drenched. Your heart beat banging in your head and your legs shaking. You squint your eyes against the intense sunset.
Ethan had made you run around the field all afternoon. He had made you run laps, do pushups, situps and all different sorts of exercises which names you had forgotten right after Ethan said you could stop doing them. After finishing you had dropped yourself next to Ethan on the grass: completely worn out.
‘What are you doing?’ Ethan had asked.
‘I’m taking a break. Actually, not even a break: I’m done! I think if I continue I might get a heart attack or something,’ you breath still went rapidly.
Ethan just laughed while grabbing a water bottle from the cooler he had taken with him. ‘What are you on about? This was the warming up!’ He threw a cold bottle of water next to you in the grass. Your hands quickly opened it and you gulped down half of the bottle before glaring at Ethan.
‘I’m definitely warm…’ You mumbled annoyed.
Slowly you had gotten up from the grass and Ethan had made you catch footballs for an hour. The sun was now setting and your whole body ached. You fell onto the bench at the side of the field.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave this bench. I can’t carry your body anymore Eth,’ you sighed and wiped your forehead with his shirt. It didn’t help much: your shirt was completely soak. Ethan stood in front of you, grinning. Silently you watched the sunset behind the hills.
‘Let’s go home,’ you said, getting up. You grabbed your bag and looked at Ethan. He was still smiling at you. ‘I thought you said “you were never gonna be able to get off that bench”,’ he chucked at you. You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but let a smile creep on your face.
‘We really need to head home though. Grayson said something about a party this morning and I think he really wants to go,’ you say as you walk towards the parking lot where Ethan had parked your car earlier.
‘Who’s hosting the party?’ Ethan asked you, eyeing your in a curious manner.
‘Austin, I think…’ You say, trying to remember what Grayson had said this morning. ‘He said Austin invited you both. And that it would be a big party. Apparently his parents are out of town.’
‘You should go,’ Ethan says, as he opens the trunk. You put the footballs and bottles of water and other training gear in the trunk.
‘I don’t want to go,’ you say in all honesty. Ethan rolls his eyes as he closes the trunk again.
‘Grayson and I never go somewhere alone-’
‘Yea, that’s kinda weird: you two should try to being more independent,’ you cut him off. Ethan eyes you angrily - irritated that you cut him off, but ignores your comment.
‘Like I said, before you cut me off: we never go somewhere alone. If Grayson wants to go: you go with him,’ Ethan says as he walks towards the driver seat. You walk towards passengers seat and get into your car.
‘I don’t like those kind of parties! What do you want me to do while I’m there?! Also; this could only go wrong. Someone will definitely notice something’s off!’ You tell him, trying to convince him why you shouldn’t go to Austin’s party.
‘You can try talking to some girls?’ Ethan suggests chuckeling, but quickly comes back from his idea: ‘Wait, no! Don’t talk to girls! You’ll for sure embarrass me!’
You glare at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Y/N, you might have a 4.0 on your GPA but you definitely don’t have a 4.0 in flirting,’ Ethan laughs at his own joke.
‘I’m not that bad….’ You say softly.
‘You know what, I’ll go to the party as well. That way I can keep an eye on you so you don’t embarrass me too much.’ Ethan says. You give him another glare. Annoyed how he won’t trust you.
The field wasn’t far from your home. Ethan parked in front of the Dolan house and you got out of the car.
‘Do you need to pick an outfit for tonight too - or do you trust me to pick one out myself without embarrassing you?’ You snarled at him. Ethan looked unimpressed by your remark.
‘Nah, you’re good,’ he simply said, pushing a strand of your long hair out of his face. In the days that he had been trapped in your body, he had only wore your hair down. It was now that you relised it was probably because he didn’t know how to tie a ponytail with long hair. You huffed and walked towards the trunk where you got the footballs and other training gear.
You walked towards the Dolan house without saying goodbye to Ethan. You dumped the training gear in the garage and walked immediately upstairs. You grabbed a clean pair of undrwear and some basketball shorts and walked towards the shower.
You took a quick shower - the same way you did that morning. This time the towel didn’t drop and you got the underwear on in one go. You stood infront of Ethan’s side of the sink and sprayed on some cologne. You closed your eyes as you inhaled the scent: it was smelled very good.
You walked out of the bathroom and layed down on Ethan’s bed. The party wouldn’t start till 9:30 - so you had a good three hours to kill.
Before you really could think of something to do, Grayson barched into the room. These boys left eachother no privacy did they?!
‘E,’ he exclaimed as he jumbed on the bed next to you, ‘wanna play some video games?’
And before you knew it, you were walking towards Grayson’s room. It was practially the same as Ethan - but with different colored bedsheets and instead of a poster of a motercycle there was a poster of old looking car. You recognised Grayson’s Ford Bronco - altough the one on the poster was red in color. Grayson turned the PlayStation on and handed you a controller.
‘Dude!!’ Grayson yelled at you. You stared at the screen. “YOU DIED” it read in thic red letters.
‘I swear I shot them first! I don’t know how I died?!’ You said annoyed.
‘Why are you so bad at this game?! Did you lose all your skills while haning out with Y/N today or something?!’ Grayson said jokingly, although he stilled looked a little annoyed at you for losing.
‘No,’ you mumbed while restarting the game. Playing video games was more fun then you innitionally thought it would be. Grayson was good company too, chatting away about his day.
‘How is Y/N doing?’ Grayson asks suddenly. You huff, concentrating on the game, ‘she’s good.’
Grayson falls back on the bed, starring at the ceiling, ‘she looks good.’
His comment makes you forget the game and within a second the red letters spelling out “YOU LOST” fill the tv screen again.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ You ask Grayson, confused. Grayson gives you a ‘like you don’t know what I’m talking about’-look. You gave him the ‘I-really-don’t-have-a-fucking-clue-what-you’re-talking-about-so-tell-me-now’-kind of look.
‘You said it yourself E: she has a good ass!’
You look at him in shock. It was weird hearing Grayson making comments about your ass - well just any ass - without getting red and flushed.
‘I never said that!’ Ethan would never say something like that about you!
‘Yea you did, like three days ago,’ Grayson says while taking the controller from you hands. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t tell Sophia tonight.’ He chuckles at his own joke. He walked towards the PlayStation and turns it off.
‘Is she gonna be there too?’ You mentally roll your eyes. Your energy level for this party just dropped to minus 6.
‘Yea, so let’s have some diner and get ready for this party,’ Grayson says as he walks out of his room. When he’s halfway down the stairs you hear him laugh and say:
‘and don’t forget to bring protection! We don’t want any surprises in 9 months!’
thank you for reading!! leave a comment if you feel like it!!
please read the DISCLAIMER at the top!!
also:
- i wrote a short grayson imagine but its not that good should i still post it???
- do you guys want me to make a master list? if so: let me know!! my ask
TAGS : @asapethan , @gabrielle-stark & @coconutethan here you go babes!!
#ethan dolan#ethan dolan imagine#ethan dolan imagines#ethan grant dolan#ethan dolan one shot#ethan dolan x reader#grayson dolan#grayson dolan imagine#grayson dolan imagines#grayson and ethan#dolan twins#the dolan twins#it's a boy-girl thing
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badboy!wooseok
meet jung wooseok, apparently music major extraordinaire with hella tats and a rep for being a badboy
but you personally know him at that lowkey annoying kid who’s Always falling asleep n coming in late in ur creative writing class
y’all met that first day when he wandered in and he just tapped ur shoulder mid-exercise to ask what was goin’ on n although u could’ve been a jerk n not said anything u threw the kid a bone n somehow his piece still surpassed everyone else’s a few days afterwards
ofc you get it. it’s college so being tired from classes and prolly work is what’s getting him but the little green monster on ur shoulder doesn’t relent bc this is where u learn time management and well
you see you love creative writing - you live, breathe, and think it a lot and it’s ur major so why wouldn’t u enjoy the one class that actually specializes in ur own interest???? and you work rlly gosh diddly darn to do it too bc writing really isn’t that easy
you’re one of those people that takes ages to get a piece out but bc this is a creative writing class you have weekly assignments and some pieces are hits n some are misses but u deal with it bc part of it is for the grade and another part of it is trying to get more experience in the field
anyway, unlike u, wooseok doesn’t seem to rlly try,,, that hard,,, or rlly,,, at,, all n that’s what ticks u off
ur the the kind of person who not just hates slackers, u abhor them n u suppose he tries rlly hard with his major since who wouldn’t??? but he doesn’t w/ urs n when ur teacher an english TA named Hui was talking to him abt writing before class he said it was soOoOOOo easy n u were p resolved to disliking the kid immediately
u just find ur seat near the back with the 30+ students n out of all the ppl to sit by,,,, he sits by u n u jst don’t try to think abt how much u dislike him n his dumb face tht’s starting to fall asleep AGAIN
but ok u sneak a small peek n u have to admit,,,, he’s actually pretty cute like u kno that he seemed p intimidating when u first saw him bc at first glance he’s this flippin’ hulking giant at like 6′2″ with tats up to his neck and sleeve u only get a peek of bc he’s enveloped in a huge jacket 99.9% of the time n he usually has furrowed brows n his lips pulled into a straight line unless he’s talking to hui or some other dude in his large ass group of friends bUT
the peaceful look on his face is different than those times n u kinda make a mental note of it even tho u most certainly are Not comparing his eyelashes to fluttering dark angel wings or his peaceful face to something akin to a statue in a museum
nope
no u r not
n- ok fine maybe a little
bUT it was part of the warm up assignment to write a snippet of literally anything n he struck ur mind in that split moment n now ur back to aiming a well needed elbow to his side bc hui scanning the aisles for a potential victim to share their piece as he usually does n although u dislike wooseok ur not that spiteful
and right as hui picks on someone right beside u two, wooseok wakes up n looks at you with this really grateful n apologetic look tht u whisper the instructions to him bc gdi ur a good person
he may fall asleep n sometimes comes in late or not at all but u won’t let him fall behind so long as u can help it bc green monster aside ur conscience would hate u
anywayyyyy this particular day is only a little different bc it’s become one of those days where 6 PM is when the sun goes down and it’s pretty dark n not many students are on campus bc hello no one likes being on campus at night,,,,, save for the few kids who have like bio or math discussion then that’s a blessing bc campus rush hour is no joke n u once almost saw ur life flash before ur eyes bc of a bicyclist
u prepared for the coming of night bc ur residence hall isn’t that far off n most of ur friends are at their dorms or beelining across campus so it’s a solo job, n so u’ve estimated abt 20 minutes walking n 15 minutes speedwalking,,, 10 if u jog but ur plan is to speedwalk bc ur bag is heavy with books from ur other classes so no thnx
the moment ur released from class u start making a beeline out of there bc once ur out it’s a hell of a lot darker than u thought and apparently the streetlamps aren’t as bright as u hoped but regardless u try to trek thru the campus as best as u can n preferably near the convenience store since it’s usually open 24 hours and u’d have a place to run into in case someone tried attacking u
but well things kinda go according to plan but not really
u make it prolly halfway before u see this dude just loitering around by the benches near the dark buildings n u try to walk a little faster bc u r Not trying to deal with that tonight
“hey where you goin’!” he says outta nowhere n u feel urself tense up just a bit
but ofc u look around hoping there’s someone else around n it isn’t just u but it is so u just nervously laugh, “oh yeah haha! just goin’ to the store y’know” bc the bright lights are just up ahead n if he lets u go then u can stay there n hopefully nag one of ur friends to come pick u up if he just doesn’t leave
n he’s just looking at u with feigned disappointment n goes “aw how ‘bout u just stay with me?” n he even dares coming closer
ofc ur ready to peel out of there but another part of u is pretty freakin’ scared bc oFC something just had to happen the first night n ur literal worst fear no less
you just shake ur head like “o no! my roommate’s waiting for me up ahead, y’know so i better get going,,,,,” n you’re already walking a little past him when he just takes a few steps and starts walking alongside u
“aw c’mon!!!! i can show u a real fun time hun. forget ur roommate”
“but-”
“i’m asking nicely, babe don’t make me repeat myself”
the nickname sets u off ur sure n ur just abt ready to tell him off with a glare and everything bc Who Does He Think He Is????? “look dude, i’m not ur babe-”
and then another voice joins right as he’s abt to step towards u n u recognize that husky, just woken up voice anywhere as he says, “take a hint. leave”
you actually look up at surprise bc wooseok gently tugs on ur wrist and puts himself between u and the creepy dude
u suppose the sight of wooseok is enough to scare him off bc right as the creep is abt to tell him off he catches one sight of wooseok and his eyes go so wide he just peels outs bc the look on his face is just screaming: “nope no way noooooooooooooo heck n o“
wooseok's so sweet like "are u ok???" bc unbeknownst to u, u’ve actually been shaking since that guy got so close and u can only manage a small nod but his features are a devoid of that furrowed brows and deep scowl with that dude
in fact his eyes are so soft under the orange lighting and he actually looks really worried bc ur fists are balled n u can’t seem to stop shaking so he goes “c’mon i’ll get u something to warm u up” n u just nod bc as scared as u were u actually feel a lot safer with wooseok there
like he even places his really large black denim jacket over ur shoulders n u feel urself shiver a lot less
so he takes u to the convenience store u were trying to make it to n it turns out his friend yanan works there
yanan’s a really handsome boy with a cast on his arm and his eyes seem to light up at the sight of u and wooseok but he doesn’t say a word bc of the look on ur face n the one on woo’s but he does flash u a friendly smile bc u look like u need it
wooseok gets the two of free hot cocoa n he tells yanan that he’ll pay him back for the drinks n that he’ll be back after he takes u to ur dorm n yanan says something like “i’ll add it onto ur tab” before u two go n wooseok’s reaction is a lil’ stiff n that has u like ??? but u don’t press bc u just want to go to ur dorm and shower and just not think abt what happened
although u aren’t talking, wooseok’s actually trying to make an effort and talk to u. mostly abt little things n he even gives u an analysis of the rlly rlly confusing piece u guys had to do n when he started mentioning what the blue curtains meant u couldn’t help but laugh bc it was silly n it didn’t really mean anything but u can tell he’s trying to make the mood much lighter n he breaks out into this shy smile n goes
“so that what it took to get u to smile huh?”
n u don’t say anything but a thank u bc the half-empty hot cocoa in hand n the walk back to ur dorm makes u feel better times infinity
he kinda just nods n says “yeah,,,, anytime u need someone to walk home with, i gotchu” n u want to tell him that it’s ok but he looks really serious as he says it so decide to nod
“really, thank you wooseok” you tell him right as ur in front of ur building n he just nods a little awkwardly which is still pretty endearing on him even tho it’s not quite what u expected of this supposed badboy
n he’s like “o well, um,, here.” and just grabs a pen from his bag n grabs a hold of ur free hand n scrawl his number on it n says “the next time y’know u need an escort,,, u can,,, erm,,, call or,, text me,,,” before he’s kinda really red in the face and stumbles his way back to the convenience store
when u get inside n the hot cocoa all’s done n gone n ur scrubbed clean of the day’s grime, u just kinda reflect to urself n decide that wooseok really isn’t that bad after all like u don’t see him as that annoying kid quite so much
now u see that he’s more or less tired from helping at that store n his analysis of the reading was pretty spot on n u just,,, well,, u feel warm and safe at the thought of him
even as u stare at his number still kinda decorated on ur skin, u can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks
the following day u,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,do not text wooseok
mostly of out fear bc u have no flipping clue what to say so when u see him in class on thursday he actually looks a little pouty w/ hui until he sees u walk in n u actually take a seat by his bag (tho u reason that it’s bc u usually sit there anyway)
as promised he walks u to ur dorm after class n u two actually talk together this time n it becomes a tradition to do that every tuesday and thursday
u begin to see more to him than he lets on in all that time like how he really adores his jacket bc his grandma bought it for him or how he actually plays the guitar and the drums bc at first he thought they were just cool but then he saw his fave band live n wanted to be like them (fun fact: it was cnblue) and the violin like he was good enough to win a prize and everything!
u also see how horribly misrepresented he is bc u hear from a few ppl how he’s no good, he’s a liar, n he’s eaten a live duck once n all that ridiculous stuff but u kno the truth bc he’s actually very truthful n bright n it actually makes u a lil mad that people would talk abt him like that
even more so when u hear some people talk abt how reckless he is n u tell him abt it bc you think he deserves to kno that there are bad things going on abt him but he kinda,,, just,,, brushes it off which leave u very ?? bc that is not the boy you’ve gotten to know n it’s certainly not the one that saved u either n u say so
n he actually looks like he wants to say something but he hesistates so u say “look whatever u did or do, you can tell me wooseok. i’m not gonna think differently of u. i know you’re a good guy”
he just sighs and says “but i’m really not,,, like i’m reckless and no good like that said,,,,”
but you’re absolutely certain that he is dead wrong n so are they so you just tell him to tell u why they’re saying those things n he admits to u that the reason why his friend yanan has an arm cast is bc of him
they had been sneaking into old abandoned buildings as hang out spots just cuz there were tons of unused places in the city n this particular one was near a construction place tht had patrols come by from time to time n this wasn’t any different but the boys didn’t know esp wooseok since he was the one who chose the spot and reassured everyone that it would be fine so when patrols came n they had to peel out everyone mostly made it except yanan who slipped and fell by the nearby construction
woo ran back over to help him out n they were mostly safe from the cops but the fall yanan made his arm bend funny so they had to take a hospital trip and ever since then wooseok has felt like crap and has been doing his best to make it up to his friend thru helping at the store n getting him to class even if it means he misses a few of his own bc it’s his fault n everyone else knows it
ofc u feel bad bc wooseok looks so dejected abt it n the only comfort u can offer him as his friend is ur support and ur reassurance that even tho he caused that to happen it doesn’t make him a bad person at all so u feel really frustrated n he notices,,, even looks at u in surprise like ???
“w-what’s wrong? why are you upset?”
so u quickly say like “!!! bc ur so kind wooseok! i know u keep saying ur a bad guy n those rumors ppl say r tru but u are so so so so unbelievably kind and sweet and even if no one else likes u then just know that i do ok????????”
while he’s just in shock, you continue with reddened cheeks and a resolve not to stop, “p-plus, there’s no need to be so harsh on yourself! so what if u skip class -actually not a so what you should definitely go to class pls ur paying to be here- but what i mean is that things like skipping or looking scary doesn’t mean ur a bad guy n no matter what people say i think you’re a good guy and and and your friends do too and i wish u could see that! i wish i could show u somehow and god i don’t know i just--”
and ok you look so adorable mid-spiel and flustered and even though ur attempts to articulate are beginning to fall short, wooseok can’t help but go thru with his impulses like always and just,,, kiss u before he pulls back ready to apologize but you pull him back in and u just kiss him ok
bc in all that time u spent together and in ur own upset, u realized u really really really flippin’ liked this boy and there was no other way you’d be this worked up over just anybody n with his lips against urs u just feel ur heart going even !!!!!!!!!! louder than ever
you pull back n say with a small smile “if u ever need reassurance then y’know,,,, i’m happy to give that to u ok?”
and he just has this goofy grin on his lips like “is this how you’ll reassure me?” and u nod and he just,,, pulls u into his arms n u both fall back onto ur bed just kinda looking at each other in this really soft light bc tbh he’s always had a crush on u since the start of ur class n some of those things like falling asleep and saying writing was easy was just his way of trying to get ur attention n to think he really did in the way he did makes him very happy esp knowing that u feel safe with him
and with you, finally coming to terms with the cold, hard truth that u indeed liked him too is nice bc the warmth and safety of his arms and being able to offer support and some sort of protection to him is all u ever really wanted to do - it happened so slowly and gradually but u have no regrets at all
also, lemme just say that the nine other boys in wooseok’s life absolutely adore u as they all kinda race to meet u bc you’re really all he ever talks abt next to yongwa n they find the two of u super adorable!!!
it’s actually an easy transition for the two of u to go from friends to s/o’s too bc you two have always been pretty touchy-feely in a really casual way and now you both have even more excuses to hang out and work on stories together or sometimes u go to his dorm just to hear him play his guitar even as yuto’s trying to study for his compsci test or how jinho n hongseok invite u to dinner with the group just so everyone else can watch u and wooseok be really adorable n really just being together is just,,, so nice??
like as friends u always had urges to reach out and hold his hand or kiss his cheek or even hug him really tight and now u can do those things! and even he would have moments where he just wanted to give u lots of back hugs and spinning hugs and just hugs and forehead kisses but he couldn’t so moving on from friendship and being able to do intimate gestures became a rlly fun pastime for you two!
and now whenever u hear anyone whispering abt wooseok or giving you funny looks, you actually throw a few responses at them in his defense and sometimes he has to drag u away bc u can get awfully scary when you’re mad and he just calms you with his tight hugs and he’ll get hot cocoa with u and you two will just walk beneath the stars n it’s just,,,
it’s nice being able to feel safe with your s/o and that’s what makes the two of you very content bc no matter what you’re each other’s rocks <3
#wooseok scenario#wooseok scenarios#wooseok fluff#wooseok fanfic#wooseok x reader#pentagon scenarios#pentagon wooseok#pentagon fluff#pentagon fanfic#emswriting
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Three Seems To Be A Lucky Number
Okay, my sweets, in the grand old tradition of my writing history, I have nervously returned with a completely random sort of Drabble and I would just like to say in advance, I am so sorry that this is what I decided to return with, lmfao, fml. Idek, I just wanted to write something cliched and typical, and I've been taking my inspiration where I can get it, so I hope it isn't as terrible as I worry it might be ^^
♡Lil' Disclaimer♡
Genre: Smut/Fluff/AU/Might as well be a Drabble for me (less that 5k words)
Requested: My apologies, no.
Warnings: possibly crude smut, other than that, I can't think of anything. This is a very, very tame one for me ^^)
“Just five more push ups, and you're free to do whatever you want for the rest of the night, I promise..." It sounds like a nice compromise, I know it does.
But that doesn't mean it actually is, or that it's a manageable feat. Which it is not.
What my boyfriend, the guy whose currently playing the role of my drill sergeant, can't seem to accept, is that my core strength happens to be nonexistent. There is no way I'm doing even one more push up. It's a miracle I made it to the first five, let alone the even ten this torturer is insisting I achieve. What more does this guy even want from me?
I mean, to me, five seems like a nice solid number. Why try for more?
"Jeon, I really don't think I can," I whine, without a hint of grace. My arms feel limp, and I'm not sure my brain can convince my muscles to tense up enough to lift my upper body, even if I wanted to.
"What if I buy you ice cream, is that incentive enough for you?" He offers, quite literally sweetening the deal but I'm still not sure it's enough, and to be quite frank I just don't wanna.
Honestly why my lazy ass thought it would be a good idea to date a personal trainer is beyond me. Three months in, and I finally see it was a stupid idea.
"Stop sulking. You asked me to do this remember?" He reminds me, unnecessarily.
I do remember, unfortunately.
After having what I'm now considering a huge brain malfunction, I thought it'd be a great idea to see exactly what the big fuss is about concerning my boyfriend's sessions. After all, people pay him thousands of dollars for an hour of his time and expertise. It's gotta have some kinda pay off, right? I mean, all you gotta do is look at him, and that should be proof enough this torture works.
There's just one catch...
"I didn't think it'd be this hard." I pout, resting my chin on my hands.
"More fool you." Jungkook smirks down at me, a hint of teasing in his tone. "You should've thought about that when you said you'd do whatever I say. But, seeing as we made a deal and you asked me to train you, you need to start doing as you're told. And I told you to give me ten."
The bossy boots actually raises his brow expectantly at me, but his scowl is hardly convincing, and when his palm lands on the curve of my ass before giving me the succinct instruction to hop to it, it's not mad I'm currently feeling.
"Would a personal trainer really spank his client when they choose to quit?" I wonder, feigning my indignation, while trying to catch my breath again. I'd love to say it's on account of the push ups, but that would be an outright lie.
His shirt was discarded about ten minutes ago, and when I glance over my shoulder, all I'm seeing is hard muscles.
It's quite distracting.
"No. If you were any other client, there would be nothing inappropriate about the way I touch you. But as it stands, you aren't any other client..." He moves from his crouched position beside me, shifting to kneel over me instead, with my calves between his knees, "and I've got a feeling inappropriate touching might be just the push you need to finish this."
"Unlikely," I murmur, fighting to ignore the way his fingertips drift up the back of my thighs. Which is impossible.
"Not even for ice cream?" His voice is enticing, but I'm not so sure frozen treats is what I'm craving right now.
"Depends on the flavour," I try stalling, and his hands slip to the mat we're laying on, his body hovering over mine. "Besides, I'm not really sure it's worth it."
"Really?" My trickster of a boyfriend muses, his head tilting down, and my breath gets caught in my throat not for the first time since we started our bullshit training. He doesn't do anything, and it takes me a second to regain my air of composure. "You can have as much ice cream as you want, in any flavour your little heart desires, my treat, and you still don't think it's worth it? Not even for five measly little push ups?"
This is ridiculous, and if Jeon thinks I'm falling for that, this piece of perfection is in for a wake up call.
"You can say that, you do this everyday. I'm new to this, you should be going easy on me!" I know I shouldn't whinge, but this really is too much.
I'm not made for this life.
I'm a sloth at heart, and working out has never been for me. I walk to and from work, that's all the exercise I need, thank you very much. And I really don't like waking up early just to exhaust myself before the day has even started. Thank god I convinced my fitness freak to do this at the end of the day, or I would be on the floor in floods of tears right now.
"Trust me, I'm going easy on you."
"Sure you are." I'm not convinced.
"Think how good it'll taste," Jungkook tries tempting me some more, and I feel the tip of his tongue slide slowly up the curve of my back. I can't help arching into the movement on a weak whimper.
I'm gonna cave, I know I am.
He removes his tongue with a chuckle,
sliding his body into place over mine but holds the majority of his weight up with his hands, keeping it mostly off of me while his lips travel up the nape of my neck. His teeth scrape over my flesh, and a shiver runs down my spine. "I'll even do it with you, just to be sure you aren't cheating."
Damnit.
That was actually in my plan.
"Push up," Jungkook instructs, his tone gentle, but firm. Grumbling under my breath about something along the lines of him seriously needing to make this worth my while, I get into position, pressing my palms flat on the ground.
Might as well get this over with.
He lifts his body with me, keeping his chest pressed to my back, and tutting softly when I try to sink down again too soon. "Nuh uh, all the way up." His head dips, his lips pressing softly to the spot just below my earlobe, and his mouth continues down. Gritting my teeth, I try to keep my shaking limps from giving out, going up those last few inches before dropping back down again.
Sod this. I give up.
Ten is too much.
"I really don't think I can do this." Letting my misery show, I tilt my head back to face him, making sure to look pitiful. "Surely there's gotta be any easier way to stay healthy and fit than this?"
"You're hopeless." His eyes roll, but I'm hoping I've got him. "It was supposed to be a thirty minute session, you're acting like I asked you to run a marathon. But..." His head dips again, his mouth silencing my protests, and he keeps close when we break apart, "as your trainer it is my job to design a workout plan that'll suit your needs, and I think I can come up with an arrangement you'll like."
His lips drift from my mouth to my neck, pressing against my pulse, before softly kissing his way down to the strap of my sports bra. My back arches, pressing my ass against his hard on, and it isn't difficult to catch his drift. Now, this is most definitely a work out I can agree to. One that'll be fun for both of us.
"Push up," Jungkook instructs again, one of his hands moving from the mat to my hip, but I'm confused.
"Huh? But I thought..."
"Just do as you're told, cry baby." My boyfriend sighs, and I feel him shake his head. His eyes are probably rolling in their sockets right now too.
Trying hard not to whine, I push up on my arms again, feeling his body rise with me and his mouth returns to my neck. This time though, his fingertips tease their way from my hipbone, towards my belly button and down. It's getting hard to breath again, as well as hold myself up and when his fingertips brush over my clit, a tingle jolts throughout my body. My arms immediately cave, taking me back to the ground, and his hand drifts lower as we go down. His palm slips between my legs, and they instinctively clench shut, trapping it there. I'd say my body and the mat has his arm trapped too, but I'd be an idiot to think Jungkook isn't strong enough to move it if he wants.
Which is how I know this was his intention.
His palm presses down on my clit, while his mouth teases the nape of my neck, drawing little whimpers from the back of my throat and I can't help moving my hips against him. I feel his smirk against my skin, and I whine because I know what's coming next. His weight shifts to his knees, and I wait with baited breath to see if I'm right. "Push up."
I fucking knew it.
Dropping my forehead to the floor, I hesitate for just a second, but ultimately the anticipation of where this is gonna go wins out and I swallow my pride.
Laying my palms flat on the floor, I summon some inner strength from somewhere deep inside me, and I do as I'm told. My lips quirk up in the corner when I feel his hands helping lift and hold my body up. Not much of a workout, when I'm not the one putting the work in.
All too soon though, it is my responsibility, and one of his hand slips to the waistband of my very short yoga shorts while the other moves back to the mat, once again holding his own weight.
"Nice shorts," he compliments me on the seemingly skimpy sportswear, snapping the band lightly against my skin before his hand slips smoothly inside.
"Thanks," I pant out, my arms shaking again, and I know it's only a matter of seconds before they lose strength.
"You're welcome." He kisses just below my earlobe his chest pressing lightly against my back, and I drop back down to the mat. I'm trying hard to get my breathing under some form of control, but my efforts are hindered by the fingertips now drawing circles over my clit. My back arches, my ass once again pushing up on his hard on, and he groans into the curve of my neck.
"Push up," Jungkook instructs me, his voice carrying a catch, and though I would love to do as he says, I really don't think I can. My body is shaking beneath him, his fingers still teasing, my eyes are going blurring and my limbs are too weak.
The tingling is too much, the little jolts of pleasure making my mind numb.
I can barely move let alone exercise.
His lips press down on my shoulder, his body tense, and my hand clings to his thigh through his sweatpants. I'm holding on so tight, I'm sure my nails are sinking through the material.
"Please don't make me do it again," I beg, my pride nonexistent. I don't even care about how pitiful I sound.
I feel him smirk. "You really are a little cry baby, aren't you? Don't worry, I won't make you do it again..." He pauses for effect, and I hold my breath, knowing the sentence is not over. "At least not right now. I am gonna get my ten push ups from you though, just wait and see. For now, lift your hips instead."
Releasing my breath on a rush of relief, I happily comply and his fingers proceed to slip inside my panties.
His thumb strokes over my clit once, before his digits continue down. He teases over my pussy, the heel of his palm taking over where his thumb left off, and my hand wraps around his wrist. I'm not sure why, I don't want him to stop, I think I just need to centre myself.
Each time his wrist rotates, and his palm presses down a little firmer on my small bundle of sensitive nerves, a wave of pleasure tingles all the way to my core and my pussy is already throbbing with the need to feel him inside me. Which is why my orgasm almost hits me head on when is middle finger slips oh so slowly inside me, and my inner walls clench around him, desperate for release. He keeps his wrist moving, his finger stroking in and out of me, and it ain't long before that tidal wave of bliss hits me hard.
Moaning into the crook of my elbow, my back bows when his tongue licks over the curve of neck before his mouth sucks, and the jolt of pleasure that rockets throughout my body prolongs my orgasm just a little longer.
When my mind has recovered and my senses return, I'm struggling to breathe. My forehead drops to the mat, and I'm vaguely aware of his hand slipping out of my shorts. I feel his smirk on the back of my neck, and I just about manage to roll my eyes. This guy is way too smug when it comes to his ability to leave a lover more than a lot weak in the knees.
He moves to kneel behind me, gripping my hips and flipping me over so I'm on my back. I can't help squealing a little from the momentum, and his grin matches mine when his body falls back down, his hips resting between my legs.
The weight of him on top of me raises my blood pressure, along with my temperature, and I'm not trying to hold back my breathy moan as his fingers drift over my jawline, tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. He angles my head to the side on a gentle tug, my mouth opens on a gasp, and his tongue meets mine, firm and a little bit demanding. We shift back on the mats, closer to the centre, his hips shifting against me, and his erection strokes my clit as we move. It sends a shiver down my spine that resonates between my legs, and a whimper leaves my throat a little desperately. Jungkook presses down a little harder, making me a lot louder. He releases my hair, his lips drifting along my jaw, and travelling down my neck again, rising goosebumps along the way. His fingers slip beneath my back to the clasp of my sports bra, and unhinges the catch. His hand moves back to my front, teasing my bare skin along the way, and helps me remove it so his tongue can lick a thin line down my chest.
It drifts over my left breast and teasing my nipple in a slow, lazy circle that has me arching towards him on a pitiful whimper. I want his mouth on me now, and that's exactly what I get, his tongue stroking over me as he sucks. My hips grind against him, and his roll, summoning a moan from our throats. My body shivers, and my clit tingles with each stroke. I'm pretty certain something as simple as this has never gotten me so hot before him. We're basically just dry humping and I'm still about to come, the material of my panties escalating the mind melting feeling throbbing throughout my lower body.
His teeth graze over my nipple, before he moves onto the other, and my hands grip his hair tight. Tears spring to my eyes as pleasure hits my body in little waves and his hand slips down my side, his palm wrapping around my upper thigh.
Lifting my hips ever so slightly, Jungkook grinds down on my clit, while keeping me held tight against him.
The pleasure is mind blowing, and I swear, I'm drowning in it. "Oh, fuck," I whimper, closing my eyes and biting into my lip as his tongue keeps up its stroking.
One last wave hits me hard, pushing me out into the abyss, and he lifts his head, just as my orgasm washes over me, his lips meeting mine again and my moan gets lost in his mouth.
He keeps his forehead pressed to mine when we break apart, my chest heaves, and my breasts brush against his bare skin with each inhalation. My hands move to the waistband of his sweatpants, while his move to drag down my too tight shorts, and I'm wishing I'd worn sweats too.
He lifts his hips so I can pull his pants and his boxers down, my hand wrapping around the base of his erection and stroking firmly up, my thumb teasing the tip. His groan sends tingles throughout my entire being. I could listen to him get off all day long and never grow tired of it, but Jungkook is far less patient than I am.
He lets me have my fun for a couple seconds more, but all too soon my hand is removed. Jungkook kneels up, lifting my legs up to finish getting rid of the rest of my clothes and as soon as that's done, his mouth returns to mine.
I get lost in his kiss, my blood rate rising by the second and as always when we find ourselves in this position, the world outside disappears. All that matters is the feeling of him entering me and the pleasure that arches my back up, pulling long drawn out moans from both our bodies. His first stroke is languid, I feel every inch of him stretching my inner walls, and our legs entangle as he strokes back to the tip. The next one isn't as slow, and my hips grind against him, my heart slamming against my chest. Each thrust gets firmer, and I meet him stroke for stroke, desperate to feel him deeper. Eventually we're just grinding against each other, stealing kisses when we're not completely breathless, and all I can hear are my whimpers and his moans.
It just turns me on even more.
His lips stay close to mine at all times, and his pecs rub against my oversensitive clit, while the tip of his dick rubs against that sweet spot inside me.
It all feels too much, but I can't get enough, and suddenly I really wanna be on top. My hands press against his shoulders, and I open my mouth to speak, but Jungkook can read me well and already gets the picture.
His arm slips beneath the curve of my back, hoisting my body against him, and he flips us over, easy as pie.
No guy but him has ever tried this move during sex before, we've always separated to change positions, and I've gotta say, I'm always left impressed. Muscle pig is an appropriate nickname for him.
My fingernails dig into his flesh as I slip down his dick those last couple inches and a shiver runs down my spine. His hands fall to my hips, grinding me against him, and that tingling feeling comes back in full force. His hips buck up and I'm gasping again, the feeling sharp but the pleasure making it so very welcome.
His groan makes me even wetter, and when his hand wraps around my throat, pulling my mouth to down to his, I'm about ready to self combust.
"You really need to stop making that noise," Jungkook commands outta nowhere, and for a second I'm confused. "If you keep whimpering like that, I'm gonna come..." his next moan sounds kinda desperate, and it just makes me whimper harder. "Oh, fuck!"
His grip on my body gets tighter, and my hips roll against him, languid but firm. My mouth is once again captured by his, and this time the pleasure overtakes every part of my body. My pussy clenches him tight as I come a third time, the tingles erupting throughout my lower limbs, and my eyes blur. Jungkook curses, and I keep my hips moving, prolonging both our pleasure for as long as possible.
When we come down, my body slumps against him, and Jungkook rolls us over again. I'm not sure how long we lay like this, eventually he shifts his hips back, pulling out of me. I can't help whimpering at the sensitivity, and his forehead drops to the curve of my neck, his lips pressing against my collarbone in a gesture that always feels comforting.
I could lay like this forever, if only the mat was a little comfier.
"Well, that was an interesting workout," I comment, sounding a little drowsy.
"Specially thought out, just for you." He kisses my collarbone again, before dragging his sweatpants up and moving to kneel in front of me. "Worth doing it again sometime?"
"Hmm..." I nod thoughtfully, pretending to deliberate over it while I slip back into my panties. He offers me his shirt and I put it on, still acting uncertain. "Maybe, and next time, you might not even need to bribe me with ice cream, but I stress might."
His grin tells me he knows I'm only kidding. This guy would never need to bribe me into taking that variation of his workout sessions. If having sex with Jeon Jungkook is how I'm gonna stay fit and healthy, then sign me up.
Smile dropping for only a second to be replaced by a grimace, he holds his hand to his heart, feigning internal injury. "You wound me! Here I was thinking you wouldn't hesitate to say yes."
"More fool you," I tease, throwing his own words back at me.
His eyes narrow, but his lips twitch in the corner, and before long that prefect smile returns. The one that makes my heart skip a beat every time.
He stands over me, holding his hand out for me to take and tugs me easily to my feet, his arm wrapping around my waist when I'm upright and pulling me close.
His body heat seeps into my skin and the chill from laying naked in his gym is forgotten. His hands stroke up my back over his shirt, tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, and my head automatically tilts towards him.
Kissing him will never get old, the only problem is that it always leaves me feeling flustered, and my heart feels like it's gonna explode out of my chest, it starts thumping so hard.
His fingers always slip to my neck, resting against my pulse, and the smirk on his face always tells me Jeon feels how hard it's racing. It just makes him kiss me harder, and my blood rate skyrockets.
Herding me backwards we head towards the door, not breaking apart until my back makes contact with the wood.
"Ready to regain your freedom?" He jokes, and I smile, thinking of all the films I'm gonna him watch until we fall asleep.
Well, until I fall asleep, which probably won't be long.
"As I'll ever be." Leaning up to kiss his jawline, I take his hand once the door is open and lead him in the direction of his bedroom. I'm planning to take a shower, then spend the rest of the night curled up in his arms watching old movies, with a few breaks for snacks and other activities in between. If I don't fall asleep first.
"Did you think about what I said yet?" Jungkook asks me out of nowhere as we make our way past his bed to his ensuite, and for a second I'm confused. Then I remember, and I nibble my lip, still unsure of how to answer him. "It's just a drawer," Jungkook laughs, and my eyes glance over to the bag on the chair in the corner of his room. My overnight bag.
The one I've been using whenever I stay here. My gaze then moves to his chest of drawers and the top drawer I was offered by my boyfriend the other day.
I'm not sure why I'm hesitating. Jungkook is right. It's just a drawer.
But it's a drawer in his apartment, in his bedroom, in his chest of drawers, and it feels like a big step. Then I think of the butterflies, the way my body reacts whenever I'm around him, and I know I'm being an idiot.
It will be the first time I've left something personal of mine over at a boyfriends before now, and though that seems small, it isn't to me. Still, if there's any guy I wanna take this tiny big step with, it's definitely Jeon Jungkook.
"Fine," I relent with a feigned sigh, fighting to keep my smile off my face. I lose the battle. "If you want me to keep my stuff in your apartment so badly, I'll do it, just stop whinging, cry baby."
"Oh! That is rich!" Jungkook crows, but I see his smile before his arms wrap around my body and hoist me up over his shoulder. I'm too busy laughing to genuinely complain, and I'm thinking I made the right choice. His lips press against my hip in a light kiss and I'm carried into the shower, where my clothes are discarded and my reign over our evening commences.
I'm not sure how I cinched this deal, it was me that suggested we workout in the first place, but I'm not complaining.
I've got nothing to complain about.
Who knows what the future holds, or if this is as permanent as I think we'd both like it to be. All I know is that here and now, everything is going great, workout sessions an' all.
{A/N: Idek, lmfao. It's the only thing I've been able to finish. I've started and stopped so many different new scenarios it's getting ridiculous. It's a personal achievement I managed to finish one, so yaaaaay ^^ ♡}
#those gifs don't really go with the tone of the scenario at all but that jawline tho#also the title is stupid I know but there seems to be a pattern in my smut scenarios#and I couldn't think of a title so this was the best I could come up with#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook#bts#jeongguk scenarios#bts scenarios#bangtan boys#bangtan#bangtan scenarios#bts fanfic#bts imagines#jeon jungkook scenarios#the golden maknae#fanfic#jungkook oneshot
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