#‘silver you’d be friends with a serial killer???’ she would love me. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Liar Liar

Yandere Final Girl x Slasher reader

Summary: After escaping an attack from the town serial killer, party girl Daina throws a get together to celebrate. Only, she made the whole thing up.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: blood/gore, violence, murder, slight emetophobia

“We’re here now with Ms. White, the alleged latest survivor in a series of recent murders by the serial killer known as Mercy Valentine, by locals. Any words you’d like to say to the press?”

“It was horrible... My… my boyfriend was killed when we were heading home after practice. I managed to get away after being attacked in the locker room, but he… he didn’t make it. I found him… bleeding there in the field. When I came back with police, he was gone.”

“Are you aware of the rumors that it may be a copycat? There has never been any reports of a body being taken from the scene.”

“Believe me, I know who I saw that night…”

The video pauses; frozen on a frame of a young woman with tear stains running down her face. Said girl falls back on her bed; the worried praise of her friends falling at her side.

“You’re so brave, Daina.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere after something like that.”

Daina-Grace White, or just Daina White depending on the crowd. Her parents thought their special little girl needed a special name, and that’s why she had been christened with a hyphenated first name. A star cheerleader in high school and track runner in her spare time. Everyone’s first pick for prom queen, and as the clip proclaimed; the most recent victim to the killer known as Mercy Valentine.

Mercy's preferred targets were those in pairs; one to take the blade, and the other to tell the tale. Couples were a frequent hit; earning them the latter part of their name – even if friend groups and families had fallen as well. The surviving party always had injuries such as scrapes and bruises, but the killer would turn and walk away before they became fatal. People speculated this was out of wanting to become some type of urban legend in the town, others some sort of guilt for their crimes. A few - believed it was on a level far deeper than that

Poor Diana and her boyfriend, Nathaniel, had been all alone on the night it happened. Scares out of their minds, one on the brink of death. It would have been a traumatic experience for the survivor and a terrible end for the one who died; had Nathaniel not gone missing the night prior.

“Thanks, guys. Part of the reason I’m able to go on is because of the support of friends like you.”

It was rather easy to fake; especially with evidence practically placed on a silver platter for her. There had been talk around campus from his sister about him not returning home last night, and his car was found parked a couple streets away from her home. It was known to many that Nathaniel had the hots for Daina; even giving her his coat on a rainy day. With his phone conveniently placed in the passenger seat, and a slash to her arm; Daina was able to come up with a story that threw off most skeptics.

Daina sits up, stretching away the worries of the day. “Let’s not focus on it for now. We have a party to get ready for!”

Most wouldn’t expect one to have a get together after the tragic death of their loved one, but Daina wasn’t like most people. She was a live in the moment type girl, and this moment was the prime of her youth. Plus, if anything were to happen, her father had given Daina her birthday present early. He really didn’t want to leave her alone after the ordeal, but duty calls.

Snacks, sodas, and a punch bowl full of enough liquor to make someone forget the evening entirely sat on the kitchen counter. Living room lights were turned down low; and music played through speakers about the house. Every door and window had been left unlocked; just inviting the devil to play. She changes into something that’s easy to move around in, throwing her old top to a corner that lands on a mannequin she used to dress up when she was little.

“Sorry about that.” Daina giggles, tossing the clothing into its proper storage before heading back downstairs.

8pm just minutes away, Daina hops on her couch and begins livestreaming to her social media of choice.

“Hey, everyone! Just getting the last couple things ready for tonight’s party. Times are tough, and we all need something to lighten the mood around this town.”

Comments pour in, only one catching her eye.

“Aren’t you worried about the danger?”

“Screw that! The killer supposedly never goes after the same victim twice, and even if they did come after me, I’ll just kick their ass like last time.”

She lifts up her arm, showing off her bandaged wrist while holding up her middle finger. Uncaring of the dangers of her actions; and whoever may come across the stream.

Eight o’clock finally hits, and the people begin to pour in. The party didn’t actually start until thirty minutes later, but there were always those who showed up early. Daina greets everyone with smiles and the occasional hug; pleasantries stopped when a certain individual walks through her door.

“Hey, Gracie… How you holding up?”

Mike was a quarterback for the school’s football team, and the best friend of the, supposedly, late, Nathaniel. He was the first to call Daina out on her claims; an allegation quickly shot down by their peers. In another life, the title of Mike's best friend belonged to her. A sweet girl, up until the beginning of high school, where her true colors began to come to light. The event that led to their falling out had been sweet under the rug due to only the two knowing of it; yet the scars were still there.

“Daina. What are you doing here, Mike?”

Mike stiffens, shuffling in his spot at the door. “I.. just want to bury the hatchet. We’re losing people left and right. For numerous reasons. It’s better to stick with each other than to hold grudges.”

Daina glares at him, but steps aside. “Alright, fine.” Mike starts to walk in, but she stops him again. “If you start anything, I’ll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

The party kicks up around nine. Young adults spilled across all floors of her house, and the backyard. A small group stands by the pool; two individuals holding the ankles of another hovering over a keg someone had bought.

“27…28…”

Thomas taps the side of the container, the contents in his stomach slowly edging back to his throat. It relaxes as his friends put him down, but the way the world around him spins and the heaviest of his body tells him it won’t last long. He cheers along with the crowd; covering his hand over his mouth as he pushes through them all to head back inside. Passing the hostess, he weakly asks;

“Hey… where’s the bathroom?”

Daina points towards the stairs. “Second door on your left.”

With a brief thanks, he speeds up the stairs and to the bathroom. He barely makes it to the bowl before he begins to heave. The sound of his retching blocks out all other sounds; the cool night air on the back of his neck. Had he paid attention to the room for a second longer when he entered; he would have noticed that the window had been closed when he walked on.

Thomas flushes the toilet and stands on wobbly legs, walking over to the sink to wash out his mouth. He bends forward to splash water in his face. Through the waves, he spots something in the corner of the room. A shadow distinctive from the rest; its face a mix of white and pink.

“What the fu-"

Before he can continue, Thomas' face is slammed against the mirror; open eye pressed to the glass. He tries to flail around, but his actions are cut short by a blade to his neck. With a single slice, his throat is split; blood gurgling from the fresh wound and out the corners of his mouth. He slumps against the sink as the weight behind him vanishes; body twitching as it draws its last struggled breath.

“God damn it.”

Daina sighs in annoyance; shutting the lid of a pocket mirror her friend had leant her.

“What’s wrong, Daina?”

“My lipstick got smeared. I need to go put on some more.” Daina sets her cup on the nearby table; a ring of red lips around its ridge. She walks upstairs, pass the locked bathroom door, and heads into her room. She shuts an open drawer, and picks up a tube of lipstick to put it on – a scraping sound across the floor boards catching her ear.

“Hm?” She looks around, the only thing in her general field being that little mannequin she called a roommate. It rocked gently, wheels turned outward. Must’ve gotten hit when she entered the room. She smiles and places her arms over its shoulders.

“Hello, there. Were you trying to sneak up on me?”

The mannequin fails to reply; blank eyes staring back at her through the mask on its face. The arms of the coat draped over swaying as she turns around. Music thumping through the floorboards, she begins to dance with it as her partner. She places her head on its shoulder, swaying to the beat as she wraps her hands around its neck.

“I’m so glad that you’re with me…” She mutters.

Daina hums to herself; unaware of the crack in her closet door. The eyes that peer through.

“Daina!”

She turns her head to the door; letting out a huff as he unlocks her arms from the doll and leaves the room in a hurry.

“Coming!”

As she leaves the closet’s doors handle rattles ever so gently; swinging outward as a figure creeps from the dark. Their eyes linger on the mannequin.. and the plastic that made up its face.

Downstairs; Daina is greeted by one of her friends – a worried look on their face. “Hey, Daina.. have you seen Thomas? I tried calling his phone, but he’s not answering, and his car is still outside.”

“I haven’t seen him all night. He’s probably wasted in my parents room or something….” Her eyes trail away as she spots something on the patio; the red bud of a cigarette and smoke clouds blown into the air.. “Hang on, I have to deal with this.”

“But someone told me they saw you with…”

Daina pushes past them and storms outside. Mike stands outside; stare vacant and the nicotine stick between his lips. He doesn’t even look at her when she starts to go off.

“What the hell, Mike. I know it’s been years, but I told you not to smoke in here. If I find a single bud…”

“You’re still thinking about that day. Aren’t you?..”

He pulls a photo from his pocket. A photo from middle school graduation, or at least the remains of one. The page had been cut to show only a small group in the larger crowd. Daina hadn’t even noticed the picture was gone; too busy focusing on her appearance. She grinds her teeth.

“You went in my room?”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“An invasion of my privacy is a pretty big deal, Mike.”

“She was my friend too, Daina.

“She isn’t the fucking point!”

A scream tears them both from the conversation. Both of them, along with various other members of the party rushed inside to see what was happening. A crowd had gathered around the walk in pantry in the kitchen; one person collapsed to the floor and staring in pure terror at what was inside. Pushing through the bodies; Daina manages to squeeze to the front and see what the problem was; her stomach dropping at the sight.

Propped against a shelf of canned goods; the corpse of another girl was sprawled on the floor. A knife wound pierced her eye as well as various spots of her chest; blood drying into her clothes. A single finger was painted red; words written onto the floor in her blood.

“LIAR.”

Calamity breaks out all at once. People screaming; shouting. Making breaks for the front door and any other exits. Daina crashes to the floor; Mike runs through the house and informs everyone else they need to flee. He picks up a poker near the fireplace as Daina regains her composer – wiping a grin from her face.

“What are you going to do?” She asks.

“I’m going to kill that mother fucker. Call the police!”

Daina nods; heading upstairs where she had left her phone. Mike begins to sweep the house to find the intruder; kicking open doors and leaving no place unchecked. It's how he comes across the bodies of Thomas and a few other people. All in locations tucked away from sight. After a thorough investigation, there’s only one place left to look. The basement.

Mike grips the handle; the shaking of his palms visible against its knob. He hesitantly opens it; a dim light all the way at the end of the steps. He begins to descend them; the light from the kitchen blocked by an object behind him.

Within the basement there is one final body. A young man with shaggy hair and wearing a sports jersey. He sits in a chair; the angle making it look as though he were merely asleep. The smells that come off his body are blocked by the mask over the approaching figure's face; their blade raised high over head. There is no scream as it falls; just the wet sound of metal entering flesh. His body loses balance as the knife is ripped through his neck; falling forward onto the ground below. Stab wounds litter his body; the puddles of blood around each hole having fully dried. His supposed assailant stands there confused; obvious to the running steps behind them.

Mike brings the fire poker down on the masked individual’s skull. They crash to the floor; blood leaking through their scalp. They attempted to reach for their weapon; stopped by another blow to the head. They lie motionless, but he isn’t done. Not after everything this person has done. Not after the pain they’ve caused. He wants to demask them, but they need to suffer first. Their identity could be revealed through denial records. He reaches the poker like a club for another swing, but the only thing that falls is the object itself - and drops of his own blood.

The echo or a gunshot still rings; Mike looking down at the hole in his stomach in disbelief. It didn’t hurt at first; shock running through his veins. As he sticks a finger against the hole, the pain finally hits. He didn’t even have time to cry out as more shots ripple through his body. He falls down next to the slasher who remained still.. Footsteps descend the stairs; stopping by his writhing form. There’s a scrap of metal as they pick the fire poker off the floor. Mike turns to see the new figure. A mask akin to the one worn by the person beside him stares back at him; the highlights in her hair a sign of her identity.

“D….daina?”

Her eye twitches. She cracks Mike beside the heat like a baseball player hitting a home run. She hits him again and again; screaming at the top of her lungs. She hits him until he stops moving. Until the flesh of his cheek is peeled away and the bones beneath break into dust. She only stops when there’s a groan from the person next to him.

“You’re alive… I was so worried..”

She kneels down; the other party flinching away even if barely conscious. They wore a hockey mask with a pink heart drawn over its left eye; something mirrored on her own. A mask worn by the mannequin in her room. She goes to lift theirs, but they weakly slap her hand away.

“It’s okay…” She coos. “I know it’s you, Y/n.”

She tears the mask from your face, shuddering from the sight of your gorgeous face, and the look of pure hatred you held.

“There you are… We should take a picture to remember this moment. Hang on.”

Daina pulls off her own mask, running a hand through her hair. Remembering she forgot to put on more lipstick, she drips her fingers in the pool of Mike's blood and wipes it over her lips; placing a kiss on your cheek afterwards. She holds two fingers behind your head and sticks out her tongue. After taking the photo, she types away on her phone before tossing it aside.”

“All done! Now if you try to kill me, your face will be leaked online in an hour. Good luck trying to guess my password!”

Mercy Valentine… Y/n. Who would have guessed that a timid college student was behind all this suffering? Daina White. That’s who. For She knew that they were the one suffering the most.

During the end of middle school, sweet, shy little Y/n had received a love note in their locker one day. At rope’s end and tired of life’s hardships, it became their lifeline. More and more came, their heart soaring with each word. It was at the end of the year that their childhood crush confessed that she had been the one to write them; a smile just a pinch to sweet on her face.

The two began dating; the lovesick teen unaware of what their love said behind their back – the plans she and her friends had towards the end of the summer. A letter had been placed at their doorstep to meet by the lake on the edge of town; note switched a second before they opened the door.

They arrived just in time to see her body floating in the lake, and her bewildered friends at the scene. They all fled; leaving the broken hearted soul to try and save her on their own. All, but one. Had they been a little wiser. They would have noticed that the penmanship between their love and the author of the letters didn’t match. That someone else was watching them from the sidelines at her friend's side. That the heart drawn on their dead lover’s mask had eerie similarities to the ones the popular girl in class wrote on her notebooks.

They tried to tell authorities of what happened. That there was no way it was an accident. The caving in of her skull was proof enough. Unfortunately, everyone brushed it off and left them in the dark.

You remain silent. She cups your cheeks with a smile.

“You’re angry aren’t you, baby? You want to see the world and see on fire, don’t you? That’s exactly how I felt when that bitch tried to take you away from me. Watching her laugh next to you. Hold you in her arms. It was all a damn lie, and now I’m gonna tell you the truth.”

She leans in, placing a bloodied kiss to your lips. “She never loved you, Y/n. It was all me, my sweet Valentine.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere story #yandere female #female yandere #yandere oneshot #tw yandere #tw blood #tw: violence #tw: gore #daina my oc #yandere fiction

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un2-verse · 4 years ago

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BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

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kinktae · 5 years ago

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bitchin’ || pt. 4 (M)

↳ PART OF MY REWIND SERIES

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 5k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: multiple smut scenes, science talk, banter, jealousy, alcohol & LOTS of colorful 80s slang lmao

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

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PART FOUR

“Ouch! Watch it, Yara! You’re stabbing me!”

Yara released her grip from the striped material of your sweater, letting it fall back down against your torso.

“I’m sorry… Is your personal tailoring experience not luxurious enough? Did you want some sparkling water? Some Crystal Light, perhaps?” The petite girl quipped, eyes narrowing.

You pressed your lips together, holding back the snarky remark that was wanting to come out from between them. You really weren’t in any position to complain. Yara had gone to the trouble of coming up with both your and Jungkook’s costumes, not to mention the fact that she was missing her scheduled viewing of Saved By The Bell just to help you get ready — truly honorable act on her part.

Shutting the pair of scissors with a sharp snip, your best friend placed them down onto the bathroom sink decisively, clearly satisfied with the holes she had carved into your oversized red and green sweater.

“What do you think? I can smear some more brown eyeshadow on the sweater if you want.”

Turning towards the mirror, you let your eyes fall over Yara’s handwork.

When Yara said you were going to be Freddie Krueger you should have expected that there would be no half-assing on her part. Jungkook was right in his assessment that the two of you were similar. Yara, although sometimes indolent, was absolutely unstoppable when she set her mind to something.

“It looks great. You went above and beyond as always.” You flashed her reflection a smile.

Reaching for the hat that sat on the counter, Yara plopped it onto your head, a satisfied grin finding her as she took in the completed look.

“So are you ready?” She inquired. “Tonight’s the big night. You nervous?”

“A little…” You confessed, shrugging. At your words, Yara adjusted your hat slightly.

“Don’t be. We went over the game plan last night, remember?”

Keeping still until your best friend’s creative vision for your hat was completed, you let out a sigh.

“Yeah.”

It should be easy; smile, hang onto Jungkook’s arm as if he was your life support, and be sure to kiss him somewhere everyone could see. Piece of cake. Totally.

Sensing a weight behind your tone, Yara offered you an encouraging smile, her hands finding yours.

“You’re gonna have a totally kick-ass time, I’m sure.” She enthused.

“As long as Jungkook doesn’t sneak off to go bang his ex and leave me alone. I don’t know anyone who is gonna be there.” You sulked, before tapping a finger against your chin in contemplation. “Then again, it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. If he and Kiri get back together, I can finally stop pretending to date him.”

At your words, Yara’s eyebrows furrowed as if to tell you something you had said hadn’t sat well with her. Before she got the chance to express what that was, however, a loud series of knocks rang out.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You mused dryly causing Yara to laugh.

“I’ll go let him in, you stay here and try on the socks.” She ordered as she walked out, slamming the bathroom door behind her, leaving you without a choice.

You were curious however, ears tuned into the greeting that was just outside the door as Jungkook came in. Slipping on one of the socks, you brought it up to your knee, tugging at the fabric until it was no longer bunching around your ankle.

“What the hell? You cropped the shirt yourself, didn’t you? I told you I was gonna cut it for you.”

“Chill out. What’s your damage? I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to cut my own shirt.”

“Yeah, nice going, dipshit. It’s fucking crooked!”

You let out a sigh.

Your best friend and fake boyfriend could not be left unattended for even a minute without needing you to play referee, it seemed.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you poked your head out, “Children, children, let’s play nice–”

Jungkook’s head turned to you, expression softening from the irritated glare he was offering Yara just moments ago. You hardly noticed, however, too captivated by what he was wearing to pay the gentle way he looked at you any mind.

He was in a cropped white jersey, the number 10 plastered across his chest in blue just above the ragged seam of where the shirt ended, exposing inches of the lower half of his firm stomach, causing your face to flame.

Low on his hips was a pair of blue sweatpants, the ends of them tucked into his high top Chuck Taylor’s that were similar, if not the same, to the pair you had been planning on wearing.

Johnny Depp would surely be proud of Jungkook’s rendition of Glen Lantz, you decided. He even wore the same pair of silver headphones around his neck.

You cleared your throat, finally pulling your eyes away from your pretend lover’s torso.

“Wow… that’s crooked.”

“Hah! Told you.” Yara pressed, pleased at your assessment.

“Remind me why I put up with the two of you again?” Jungkook frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, unaware of the way it caused his already short shirt to ride up further.

Pulling yourself from the bathroom altogether, you walked over to the couch, plopping down onto it as you began to put on your other sock.

“Sick costume, nerd.” Jungkook praised, eyes fixated on you as you moved. “You’d make a hot serial killer.”

“Yeah, well, don’t cream your pants.” You teased, flashing him a grin.

“I can’t promise anything tonight. I’m a frisky drunk.” He winked back, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Ugh, barf me out. You’re the first on my list when I finally crack and go full homicidal.” You informed him, causing him to chuckle.

“Pleasure and pain. You really know how to get me going, Y/N.”

Yara was leaning up against the kitchen counter, quietly watching the two of you with increasing intrigue. Taking in the way the sides of your eyes creased in amusement as you continued your banter with your so-called fake boyfriend, she suppressed a smirk.

“Well…” Yara finally spoke up, a sly look on her face, “as endearing as I find your warped, semi-abusive way of flirting with one another... I have a show to catch so if you both could just hurry it up—”

“Woah, woah, woah, we’re not flirting.”

“Get real, as if I’d be flirting with him.”

Yara could only laugh at the way you both denied her accusation immediately, words overlapping with one another in unison.

“Whatever. I’ve got fake blood in the bathroom. Jungkook follow me.” She brushed the two of you off.

The costumed boy flashed you a funny look before ultimately trailing after your best friend.

Chewing on your bottom lip in silent contemplation, you let yourself ponder on your best friend’s words.

That wasn’t flirting, was it? No, that was just you and Jungkook’s usual playful banter. Sure, maybe the two of you had gotten more comfortable with one another as the days have ticked by, but it wasn’t as if it was anything more than that, right?

Lately, you had been catching yourself growing somewhat excited about seeing Jungkook, even though you saw him nearly every day. Somehow having the messy-haired boy in your life had become routine.

Having Jungkook by your side felt normal as if you wouldn’t mind it if things were always this way. And that scared you.

Shaking your head, you began to put on your shoes, tying up your laces solemnly.

The moment you held your event and Jungkook and Kiri were back together, things would go back to the way they were before. You didn’t want Jungkook to be someone you were going to miss, but it seemed like with every lopsided grin he threw at you he was cementing himself into your life more and more.

This business venture of yours was looking out to be more costly than you initially anticipated.

But as Jungkook and Yara walked out of the bathroom chatting excitedly, Yara’s hands stained and Jungkook’s jersey now smeared with fake blood, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d be willing to pay the price if it meant that this warm feeling in your chest would last just a little while longer.

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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jungkook asked you, hand gripping yours tighter.

You tried your best to meet his eyes. It was difficult considering how dimly lit the room was. Fitting though, considering this party was Halloween themed.

“Yes. You’ve asked me that four times now.” You told him loudly, trying to be heard over the loud sound of Michael Jackson’s Thriller playing throughout the house.

“I dunno, you’re not saying anything. It’s, like, freaking me out.” He admitted.

“I’m just… observing.”

“Observing what?”

He watched as your stare fixated itself on the beer pong tournament that was occurring across the room, excited shouts coming from several people as one of Jungkook’s brothers scored a point.

“Gorillas.” You said, finally. “In their natural habitat.”

Jungkook laughed, enjoying the way your nose scrunched up at them.

“Hey now, did we say before we got here?” He tutted disapprovingly, waging a finger at you. You followed the digit with the frown.

“Yeah, yeah, I promised no judging the common folk. This is how the intellectually lesser entertain themselves, I remember.” You sighed out, gaze flicking up to catch the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes.

The costumed boy nudged his shoulder into yours; he liked it when you joked around with him like this. It made him feel like you were comfortable around him and that you might even enjoy his company.

“Do you know what you need?” He began happily.

“I do not but my answer is already no.”

“A drink.” He continued, ignoring you.

Suddenly, you were yanked forward, Jungkook leading you by the hand towards where you assumed the drinks were.

You hadn’t been at the party for very long, but already the social interaction had exhausted you. Jungkook was far more popular than you had previously concluded; the two of you could hardly take two steps before running into someone who wanted to say hello to the frat boy attached to you.

It was daunting in a sense – the concept that every person that came up to him was going to leave the interaction with the impression that you were Jungkook’s girlfriend. Perhaps guilt wasn’t the right word, but something about the way the party’s attendees glanced down at yours and Jungkook’s intertwined hands caused your stomach to flip and neck to grow hot.

So you kept to yourself mainly, letting your socially confident boyfriend do all the talking. You didn’t mind, really; it was somewhat remarkable the way Jungkook could handle himself in a social situation. He had a way of acting like every person that stopped to chat was important.

As Jungkook and you made your way into the large fraternity house’s kitchen, you wondered if it wasn’t acting at all and if he was just that nice of a person.

“Righteous costume, JK!” A disembodied voice called out from somewhere, clearly directed at Jungkook.

You hardly had time to decipher where the voice had come from before an outrageously good looking boy draped in a white toga came forward, pulling Jungkook into a hug.

“You finally cut your hair. Looking good, Tae.” Jungkook laughed back, patting the handsome man’s back affectionately.

You watched their interaction with interest. This wasn’t acting, as far as you knew. Judging by the way Jungkook’s laugh has grown higher in pitch, something you had noticed occurred when he was genuinely happy, you knew you were witnessing genuine friendship, not just polite socializing.

“And who is this lovely lady who, might I add, looks killer? Pun totally intended.” The model man mused, eyes flashing your way.

You felt heat prickle at your cheeks.

“Taehyung, this is my girlfriend Y/N, Y/N this is Kim Taehyung. He’s head of our finance committee.” Jungkook introduced the two of you, causing your eyes to grow wide.

So this was the guy Jungkook had told you about. The guy who could help you throw your event.

Taehyung let out a scoff, “Seriously? That’s how you introduce me? The finance guy? I’m also your favorite brother, could’ve opened up with that one.”

“Taehyung’s my Big. He’s taken me under his wing or whatever.” Jungkook explained, running a hand through his dark hair.

A nervous giggle escaped you, taking Taehyung’s extended hand into yours to greet.

“Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The mulleted man grinned, causing one of your eyebrows to quirk up in surprise.

“You have?”

Taehyung put his hands up defensively, not noticing the way Jungkook’s expression had fallen beside him, “All good things, don’t worry. The kid talks about you nonstop—”

“Hey! So Y/N has been thinking about throwing an event here on campus, isn’t that right, babe?” Jungkook interrupted suddenly.

The arrival of the new pet name caught you off guard for a moment, before remembering that you and Jungkook were meant to be a couple after all.

“Oh yeah, Jungkook mentioned something like that to me. Tell me about it.” Taehyung said.

You stood silent for a moment, realizing that this moment was the one you had been anticipating all week long.

Relaxing your shoulders, you grinned at him.

It was now or never.

“Yeah! So the event is called STEM for FEM. I’ve got all kinds of games and pamphlets prepared. It’s basically meant to show girls that no matter what people think, there are in fact opportunities for us in the more traditionally male-dominated fields. It may be a steep road, but it’s one worth taking. And they’re not alone. There are programs out there that girls can reach out to. They offer all kinds of support; emotional, educational, financial—“

Jungkook reached for a cooler that sat by his feet, pulling out a beer. You didn’t need him for this. This was precisely what he had watched you practice into the mirror over and over; you were ready.

Popping open the can, he took a small sip, a small smile creeping on his face as he watched the way the fire in your eyes spread, your pretty lips wrapping around the words that you carried in your heart wherever you went.

“That’s radical, girl. It sounds like you’re really passionate about this stuff, huh?”

Jungkook caught Taehyung’s reply once he walked back over to you guys. He had gone off to make you a drink, figuring that cranberry juice and vodka would ease any sales pitch nerves you might have.

“Yeah, I am.” You smiled. “I’m a biology major myself.”

You tore your eyes away from the blond boy to take the red solo cup he was offering. Bringing the cup up to your nose, you sniffed it experimentally.

“Do you have a sponsor?”

You were grateful that you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink yet as had any liquid been inside your mouth you surely would have choked on it.

“Oh, uh! Not yet!” You squeaked out, causing Jungkook to fight down a chuckle.

“Because Beta Tau Sigma happens to be under our campus philanthropy quota and we’d love to support a cause like yours.” Taehyung offered, causing your heart to soar.

“Really?” You gaped.

“Sure! Just swing by anytime this week and I’m sure we can work out the details.”

This was happening. The event you had poured your absolute heart and soul into planning was actually going to happen… holy shit.

“Wow, that’s just… wow!” You replied, breathlessly. “Thank you! Thank you so much, seriously. I can’t even begin to thank you enough…”

Taehyung shook his head, clearly amused, “No need to thank me, it’s a worthy cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you.”

“A thank you? For what?”

“For dating my brother. You’re the reason he comes home every night grinning like an idiot after all.” He grinned cheesily.

A smile broke out onto your face despite yourself, but the good atmosphere didn’t last for long, as a hand finding yours caught your attention.

“Alright, alright, enough sappy shit.” Jungkook urged, cheeks tinted ever so slightly pink.

Much to the blushing boy’s chagrin, Taehyung reached over to rustle Jungkook’s long looks.

“I’m just teasing.” The blond laughed. “By the way, any chance you’ve seen Hobi?”

“No, why?”

“Dude is totally wasted. Heard someone say he was gonna jump off the roof into the pool.”

“The house doesn’t have a pool?” Jungkook blinked.

Taehyung flashed him a look as if to say ‘exactly.’

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Y/N. We’ll talk soon, yeah?” Taehyung asked.

“Absolutely.” You nodded.

“See ya later, man!” Taehyung called out through a crooked smile before slipping back into the crowd of people that lay just beyond the kitchen.

An excited squeal erupted from you, your hands reaching out towards Jungkook as he reciprocated your enthusiasm and embraced you in an elevated hug.

You let out a laugh, carefully holding onto the cup in your hand so as not to spill it before he set you back down.

“You did it!” He cheered.

“We did it.” You corrected.

“I didn’t do anything?” Jungkook looked at you in bewilderment.

You shook your head, “Not true. I would have never met Taehyung if it weren’t for you. Thank you, meathead.”

Jungkook looked at you warmly for a moment, knowing that despite the cruel nickname, your sincerity was genuine.

“Cheers, nerd. To a deal well done.” Jungkook said decidedly, holding out his beer.

Bumping your cup into his can, you took a swig of your drink, grimacing as the overwhelming taste of vodka made its way down your throat.

“Taehyung was awesome.” You began once you had downed a few more sips of the liquid poison. “I don’t know why I was expecting some ape-like barbarian.”

“Probably because of those gorillas you just saw over at the beer pong table.” Jungkook joked. “Yeah, Tae’s great. He’s a Legacy too, so everybody here loves him.”

You stared at him blankly, clearly not understanding the term.

Jungkook sighed, “I mean he comes from a long family of Beta Tau Sigma alumnae. His older brother Seokjin graduated last year—”

“Wait, Seokjin? You don’t mean… Kim Seokjin… our lab professor?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yep.”

“No way! But he’s so…” Your eyebrows furrowed, struggling for the right word.

“Smart?” Jungkook assumed flatly.

You fought back a smile, “I was not gonna say that.”

“Mhm, I’m so sure.”

“Anyway,” You smiled, poking a finger into Jungkook’s chest, “I had no clue you liked me so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk about me? I’m the reason you come home grinning every night?” You recalled Taehyung’s words.

You watched in amusement as Jungkook visibly tensed.

“W-Well, duh. You’re my fake girlfriend, I mean, it would be weird if I didn’t do any of those things...” Jungkook defended, eyes narrowing at you suddenly. “Quit gloating.”

“I’m not gloating.” You smirked.

“Yes, you are. I can see it in your face. You’re a gloater.” He said decidedly, moving to make himself a drink.

“How very dare you! I am nothing of the sort.”

“Admit it, Y/N. You relish in my misfortune.” He poured some cranberry juice into a cup, clearly moving to recreate your drink.

“The fact that I relish in your misfortune has nothing to do with this.” You waved off quickly, sending the two of you into giggles.

You somehow managed to down your cup, flashing Jungkook a grateful smile as he began to make you a new one.

You were admiring the way Jungkook’s shoulders filled out his jersey when another voice made itself known, pushing its way into the kitchen.

“Kookie, is that you?”

It was Kiri. The way Jungkook jerked around immediately, eyes as wide as saucers, told you that much.

Turning to where Jungkook’s eyes were fixated, you came to find a tall and leather-clad girl, her curled hair unmoving as she strutted forward. You couldn’t hear anything over the hum of the music playing throughout the house but you’d imagined you would hear the sound of her bright red heels rapping against the tile floor if it were quiet.

Her top was black and off the shoulder, and it dawned on you that she was dressed as Sandy from Grease.

You watched in silence as Jungkook nodded at her, a grin on his face.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you were avoiding me.” Kiri smirked, teeth on full display.

“Avoid you? Never.” Jungkook teased.

Suddenly, a weird feeling bubbled in your stomach as you watched the two interact.

Strange. Must be the vodka.

“I’ve just been busy, I guess.” He shrugged, clearly trying to play it coy.

At his words, Kiri’s eyes flickered to you, causing you to freeze.

“So I’ve heard.” She said simply. You smiled at her awkwardly.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook jumped into action, “Y/N meet Kiri. Kiri meet Y/N, my girlfriend.”

“Y/N L/N, right? I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” Kiri admitted, eyes shaded with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You, uh, have?”

“Of course!” She smiled, although it didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I like to keep tabs on all the girls in Greek life… or I guess in your case, have had Greek life in them.

You blinked.

Jungkook eyes quickly moved to you. Crap. He knew Kiri well enough to detect a catty comment from her no matter how innocently she presented it. You were smart; he was sure you had caught exactly what she was implying.

For a moment, no one said anything. Jungkook gripped his cup tighter, wondering if he should say something to ease the nearly palpable tension.

However, before he got the chance, you smiled, cocking your head to the side.

“No worries, I get it. You wanted to scope out your ex’s new girlfriend, right?”

Jungkook let out a breath, realizing that you weren’t looking for any kind of conflict.

You could tell you words pleased Kiri with the way the side of her painted lips turned upward.

“So, Jungkook told you about me. How flattering.”

“Actually, he hasn’t said a word.” You smiled.

You took a step forward; it wasn’t anything aggressive or confrontational, but it was enough to capture Jungkook’s attention.

“Let’s just say I also like to keep tabs on things involving those that go inside of me.” You lowered your voice, sending Kiri a small wink.

Jungkook must know you pretty well too because he also knew that your comment wasn’t nearly as lighthearted as you made it out to be. He fought back a grin.

Kiri straighten up suddenly, “So what are you two dressed up as? A dumb jock and dirty Waldo?”

‘Well, she’s certainly not being subtle anymore.’ Jungkook thought dryly.

“Freddie Krueger and Glen Lantz. Like from Nightmare at Elm’s Street.” Jungkook answered, no longer bothering to uphold a pleasant tone.

“Is that so? I don’t watch horror movies.” Kiri shrugged.

“I know you don’t.” He reminded her.

“So did you come alone? Or is there a Danny Zuko somewhere that you’re matching with?” You asked casually, not liking the way your insides churned every time Jungkook and Kiri spoke to one another.

“He’s over there by the booth. He’s in charge of the music.” She replied, polished finger directing you where to look.

Sure enough, across the room on an elevated platform was a DJ booth, the man who was operating the device sporting a leather jacket and greased hair.

A gasp fell through your lips as you took him in, recognizing him immediately.

“That’s—” You cut yourself off immediately, turning away from him. “...so cool! Him being a DJ and whatnot.”

Kiri nodded cautiously, clearly catching on to the way you had changed your tune suddenly.

“You know what, I think Jungkook and I are gonna head over to the dance floor. But it was really great meeting you, Kiri.” You told her, reaching for Jungkook’s hand.

Your fake boyfriend sensed your urgency and took your hand comfortably.

“Nice seeing you.” Jungkook called out to her breezily as the two of you began to walk away, not bothering to give Kiri another glance.

Your heart was pounding but you tried your best to look nonchalant, knowing Kiri was probably watching the two of you leave.

As you reached the dance floor, you allowed yourself a sparing glance around to make sure that Kiri was out of ear’s reach before you wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck and began to sway your hips.

Bringing your mouth to his ear, you spoke, “Kiri is dating Eunwoo.”

Jungkook sent you a look, “Yeah. I know.”

You shook your head as Jungkook’s hands found your waist, keeping up with your pace.

“You don’t understand. Eunwoo is Yara’s ex.”

“Wait– Really?”

You nodded.

“Great. So he’s banged two of my girlfriends then. I swear to god, Y/N, if he tries to get into your pants next I’m gonna kick his ass into the next decade.” Jungkook grunted. You laughed.

“I just don’t understand. I swear he was in love with Yara just last week. He used to slip love notes under our door for her, you know. I even didn’t know he was in a frat?” You frowned.

“He’s a new member. He was just initiated a little while back. Fucking prick.”

That made sense. From what you had gathered tonight, everyone within Jungkook’s fraternity seemed quite friendly with one another— it didn’t make sense that an active member would betray Jungkook like that.

“You handled that very well, by the way.” Your pretend lover spoke suddenly.

“What? Kiri? Whatever, I’ve dealt with worse girls in high school.” You shrugged easily, hand finding itself running in Jungkook’s hair.

He had mentioned once that he needed a haircut but it seems as if you had successfully managed to talk him out of it. You like his hair like this.

“She was trying to use an intimidation technique that Gamma Alpha Tau uses on possible pledges.” He explained. “I promise you she’s not always that…”

“Snarky? Judgmental? Standoffish?” You offered, quirking up a brow.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “I just mean she’s usually better behaved than that.”

“Right. Well, either way, this is a good sign.”

“What is?”

“Her hating me. Just means she’s jealous and then we’re one step closer to closing your half of the deal.” You enthused.

“Speaking of the deal, I believe you owe me a kiss, Freddie.”

Jungkook’s words took you by surprise and as much as you wanted to wipe that slick grin off his face, you knew he was right.

Humming, you let go of his hair, moving closer so that his nose was brushed up against yours.

“Your move, meathead.” You urged, letting your bottom lip brush against his teasingly.

Pressed up against him like this, you could feel a low rumble erupt in his chest.

“You teasing me?” He mused lazily.

“Didn’t you say you liked your pleasure with some pain?”

If Jungkook had a reply, you didn’t catch it in time as his mouth found yours, distracting you from any trivial thoughts weighing you down.

Something was intoxicating about the way Jungkook kissed you; he wasn’t rushed or in any hurry, but the way his mouth moved against yours made your chest pound as you brought your fingers up to pull at his hair.

Maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the sound of Rick James in the air, but when his hand found your jaw and his tongue ran itself along your bottom lip you happily obligated, whimpering as his tongue moved against yours with the same fervor as the kiss you shared on your bed.

Jungkook was trying his hardest to hold back, he really was, but with the way your fingers pulled against his scalp, he felt himself start to grow greedily, grinding his hips against yours.

A whimper left your mouth and before you could make left from right, Jungkook broke the kiss and turned you around, pressing his chest into your back.

Heat rocketed to your face as you were suddenly reminded that you were in a room full of people, kissing Jungkook like this.

Your worries were soon eased as he began to press a trail of kisses down your neck, causing you to sigh.

“Wanna blow this popsicle stand? I’ve got a bottle of Malibu in my room with our name on it.” He murmured into your neck.

For a moment, you wondered if you should say no. If Jungkook kept touching you like this, especially with alcohol in your system, there was no guarantee what you’d do.

You let out a squeak as Jungkook’s tongue found your neck, the hot muscle dancing against your skin.

Letting your eyes roll over the room, you froze as they met a familiar pair.

Kiri was stood by the DJ Booth, eyes fixated on you two, her stare cold and unmoving.

Suddenly, a feeling came over you. It felt hot and not in the nice way Jungkook had been making you feel. You hardened your stare, holding her eyes. Was this why Jungkook kissed you? Did he know Kiri was watching?

Sensing the way you had tense against him, Jungkook pulled away from your neck.

“Something wrong?”

Fine. If Jungkook wanted to put on a show for her, then you were happy to assist.

Instead of replying, you turned your head and answered with your mouth, kissing him in a way you knew Kiri wouldn’t be able to ignore.

“Let’s get outta here.” You breathed as you broke the kiss.

Jungkook’s eyes were dark, eyelids low as a positively devilish smirk crept over him.

Following him as he lead you out of the room, you couldn’t help but glance behind you, the sides of your mouth curling up as you met Kiri’s glare once more.

5K notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 5 years ago

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Namjoon angst fic recs (no smut)

@ephyra16 asked:

Hey...! Your blog is of so much help to me, thank you for all the hard work you do... I wanted to ask if you know any long Namjoon oneshots or series which mostly have angst but no smut...? Namjoon centered fics are really hard to find. Thanks!!

yes hello for some reason tumblr hates me and idk why everything gets wonky when i try to answer asks so i’m making a new post <3

1) as a jin stan i feel u. is hard to find fics for our mans but that just means when we find one we devour it and cherish it 4 ever lol

2) jsdflajsd you might have more luck asking someone else for straight up angst cause i can barely stomach angst LOL. I tried my best to find some heart breaky fics for you! :”) A majority of these I have not yet read so we will both be riding the emo train together.

As you requested, most of the oneshots are long fics, over 5k but! There are several honorable mentions under 5k are also listed cause they’re great

Thank you for your patience and I’m glad you’re enjoying the fics I reblog! :D so many great stories out there. as always, if there’s a fic that any of you readers think should be on this list lmk!! 🧡🧡 Enjoy!~

A Little Bit Of Sugar by @lthyl

Summary: Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself. And so he doesn’t really care if his methods of collecting pretty things end up being darker that expected, once you peek under the surface.

Almost Love by @joonary

Summary: You think you’ve got your life all figured out—after all, you found your soulmate already, and you’re lucky enough to have found him in your childhood best friend. You suppose that maybe, now that you’re older, your luck has begun to run out.

Better To Have Loved by @rkivenamu

Summary: Love, Namjoon had found, wormed its way though people, consumed them whole until it left nothing of the people they had once been. It became a weapon to be used to wound the other. Love, it seemed, was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Bloom by @hobidreams

Summary: Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

Note: okay, this has smut (there are 2 smut scenes) but… it is too good for me to not add to this list

Breathless by @personawife

Summary: Jungkook was eleven when it had begun. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening to him when he had miraculously coughed up a flower petal. He thought that maybe it had accidentally blown into his mouth with the wind, but then he realized that there were no cherry blossom trees around his house.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Catching Fire by @namjoonchronicles

Summary: “If you didn’t want to go, then you should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken you here.”

Cut by @chimchimsauce (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates.

Chasing Perfection by @shuaffeine-rkive

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

Emancipated by @imagniation

Summary: CEO!Namjoon is a hero time and time again when your father takes the villain role.

Five Times by @lordofassgard

Summary: Five times you wished you never met Namjoon.

Sequel (of sorts): Part 2 - Namjoon's POV

For All the Petals by @rosaetae (>5k)

Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter.

Forget Me Not by @fairyjeons

Summary: She fell apart that day. An all white day with crowds of adoring friends and family to see them make the most happiest decisions of their lives, to choose to be together. She chose yes. He chose different.

Ghost In The Machine by @jimlingss

Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.

God of Destruction by @jimlingss

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Jealous by @btssmutgalore (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon remembered the day you left clearly.

Lit Me Up by @floralseokjin

Summary: You find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

No Goodbye by @floralseokjin (>5k)

Summary: Even if you’re the one who ended things, you can still feel pain. Your heartbreak is valid. Your sadness for the past is a grieving process…

Noble Gain and Loss by @jaeminlore (>5k)

Summary: You are a person of nobility preparing with your tutor for your royal debut. The two of you fall into a forbidden love.

Not The One by @personawife (>5k)

Summary: Maybe you should’ve realized early on then, that something was bound to go wrong. Meeting your soulmate at sixteen and living happily ever after? No one’s that lucky. But you refused to believe anything else.

Paracosm by @jimlingss (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon’s always known he was your second choice. He was a substitute for someone who wasn’t there. So when you’re on your deathbed, he intends to reconstruct your memories and remove your regrets.

Press Play by @out-of-jams

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

Submerged by @myfeelsinink

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the man of your dreams; or rather, from your dreams.

Suspended Soul by @justimajin

Summary: A silver ring, a live long promise, and an eternity of happiness. All of which, he had managed to break.

The what Ifs by @ellieljade (>5k)

Summary: You would be able to handle the relationship between Namjoon and your best friend if it weren’t for all those damned “what ifs”

Wishf-oo-l by @sseudanym (>5k)

Summary: To fulfill a good man’s bad dream.

Worshipers of the Soul by @jimlingss

Summary: The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

You’ve Got That by @mikrksmos

Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

Confirm Or Deny by @dinoyoongi

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

Deeper than Ink by @whoajeon

Status: discontinued series (2/?)

Summary: Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

His Deaf Stars by @jooneos

Status: discontinued series (1/?)

Summary: When Namjoon turned 20 he had been excited to finally find his soulmate. He hadn’t anticipated that finding them would prove to be such a long journey. Now, more than 500 years later Namjoon still hadn’t found them.

Note: ok, yes it’s discontinued and only 1 part is up but still… please read it. It’s an interesting read regardless!

Inked by @kookswife

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: The day Namjoon entered your life was the day you were a bit more than utterly fucked.

Monster by @wordycerty

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Namjoon as a vampire and you’re locked in a basement with him. For you to escape, he first needs to feed.

Noble Heart by @agustkive

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Unrequited love can destroy anyone, and in a society where it could literally do so, it made it difficult to want anything more. Being among the population with Hanahaki disease, you battled with doing what you loved without actually feeling it. That is, until a new florist by the name of Kim Namjoon came into your life to remind you of what it actually felt like.

Reality by @thoughtssilent

Status: ongoing series (11/12)

Summary: Namjoon can’t deal with himself anymore, and to make things worse, BTS is disbanding.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

Regrets by @nightbts

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: When his eyes met yours, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the familiar brown eyes that you once used to know at the back of your hand. The very ones you’d wake up to every morning. The very ones that would gaze at you with so much affection as the words I love you spilled past his mouth during the most random moments of your day. It was him, your ex-boyfriend, the very Kim Namjoon.

Solanacea by @softjeon

Status: complete series (10/10)

Summary: There was something between them that neither could deny. It was like this from the first day they had met.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

The Heiress’ Son by @jimlingss

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: Love is never enough. It could never feed you, protect you, stop death from taking you. It chains you down. It compels forgiveness unconditionally. It is dangerous. While it is the most intense of feelings, love is not enough and it will never be. Love never helped anyone.

What If I Said by @thoughtssilent

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: If no one is there for him, Namjoon won't be there for them. Or, a collection of sad stories.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

#namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts fic recs #rm angst #bts angst #ephyra16 #g recs #g replies #f:knj

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steves-on-a-plane · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight in the City

Words: 1487 Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Summary: Reader was in New York for her Bachelorette party when she gets a call from her Fiancé saying that things are over between them. Heartbroken and distraught, she starts walking back to her hotel alone only to get turned around and lost. When she tries to seek shelter in a nearby bodega, she bumps into a certain billionaire unexpectedly. It’s almost laughable how quickly things can chance in a New York minute. Author’s Note: Y’all ever start to write a fic thinking it will be one thing and then it turns into a whole new beast? That’s how this fic came alive.

It was late at night much later than you’d planned on being out. It was also cold. There was frost on the windows of the shops and bars you past. You shivered, regretting that you left your coat back at the hotel. There was a delicate silver tiara in your hair. The teeth of the Tiara’s comb felt like they were digging into your skull. You tugged the thing off, no longer caring has nicely its gemstones sparkled under the New York City lights.

Your toes were wedged into a pair of high heels and you knew your feet would be covered in blisters by morning. You should have worn something more comfortable like your sister had suggested, but you’d wanted to look your best that night. It was supposed to be your Bachelorette party after all. Tired from a long day, your feet and heart both aching and your continued ambling down the street until you came upon a bodega.

You stepped inside, shielding your eyes from the store’s florescent lighting, you stumbled inside. You were relieved to find the place toasty warm. At least comparing to the dropping temperature outside. You had a pounding headache and you knew the best cure for that would be water and maybe some food. You slowly made your way over to a selection of fridges where several bottle water brands were displayed.

“I don’t want to sound rude here, but are you, okay?” You looked to your right startled. You had thought you were the only patron in the shop.

“Where the hell did you come from?” You gasped. You glanced at your smart watch to check the time, only to realize its battery had died. Most of the man’s face was covered by a pair of sunglasses with red tinted lenses. But he smiled at you. It was a crooked mischievous smile. He wore a simple red zip up hoodie, and a pair of jeans. Only his shoes seemed out of place. They looked like some type of designer boots but you couldn’t identify the manufacturer.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, pushing his hood back. “It’s just that you look like you need help. You’re not from around here are you?”

“I ah…” You bit your lip not sure how to answer. This man could be dangerous and if he knew you were from out of town and no one was expecting you home any time soon, that could put you in even more risk.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. A real New Yorker would have told me to mind my own damn business by now.” The man laughed. “So, a tiara?” He pointed to the nearly forgotten accessory still gripped between your fingers. “What are we celebrating? Birthday or wedding?”

“Wedding.” You struggled to say the word you’d been so happy to exclaim the weeks leading up to tonight.

“You don’t seem very happy about it.” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s been canceled.” You explained. Your throat felt dry. You wished you hadn’t drank so much.

“Canceled? The man frowned. “Well that’s no fun. Can I ask what happened?”

“My fiancé…ex.” You reminded yourself. “Sent his mother to my bachelorette to tell me that he wasn’t coming to the wedding tomorrow. He took the day to think things over and just didn’t see a future with me. When I called to ask him if this was some kind of joke, he sent my calls to voicemail. I called him twenty-three times.”

You didn’t know why you were telling this stranger any of this. You didn’t know him. He could have been a serial killer. Maybe it was just nice to have someone to talk to about it. Someone was just going to listen to what you had to say before working themselves up. You needed time to process what had happened. Still there was a quiet thought in the back of your mind that you knew this man from somewhere.

“I told my friends I was going back to the hotel.” You continued. “I decided I’d walk, enjoy the fresh air, you know? But somehow I got turned around and well, here I am.”

“Here you are.” The man nodded. His cellphone began to ring. The man pulled his phone out and looked at the caller ID. “I’m sorry, I have to take this, just give me one second. What do you want Rogers? Yes, I remembered to get you your disgusting black licorice, even though I’ve told you a hundred times only old people eat licorice. What does Barton want? I can hear him yelling in the background. Circus peanuts? The gross orange things? God, who raised you people? Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll get everything. Listen, I’m in the middle of something, I’ll call you back.” The man ended his call and looked back at you.

“Sounds like you have an exciting party to get back to yourself.” You observed.

“Hardly.” The man rolled his eyes. He bent down and picked up a shopping basket by his feet. “It’s movie night and it was my turn to pay for the snacks. Of course, it’s sort of always my turn to pay for the snacks.”

“What time is it?” You asked him. “It has to be past midnight, and you’re only starting a movie night now?”

“Well we just got back from a week-long trip in Russia.” The man told you casually. “When you account for jag lag and losing a day from time zone changes, we were all just exhausted. I only woke up twenty minutes ago. I’d probably still be sleeping if they hadn’t woke me up and sent me out in the cold for snacks.”

“New York is very different from where I live.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“I bet there’s a whole new world I could show you.” The man smirked. “I’m Tony, by the way.” He introduced himself at last.

“Hi, Tony I’m [Y/N].” You told him. “Can I ask what exactly it is that you do? You mentioned that your friends make you pay for things a lot.”

“Seriously?” The man put his basket back on the floor. “You don’t know who I am?” He tugged his sunglasses off and waited for you to recognize him.

“No I’m sorry…” You shook your head.

“This has literally never happened to me.” He said, seemingly in total shock. “I mean it. Never.”

“I’m sorry!” You apologized again. “I don’t know many actors, have you been in any movies recently?”

“An actor?” Tony gasped. “I’m Tony Stark!” He pointed at himself. “I’m freaking Iron Man.”

“Oh!” You giggled. “I guess you do look a little bit like him.”

“I don’t look like him, I am him!” He exclaimed. “This is outrageous!” He started patting himself down, looking for his wallet. “I left…I left my wallet in the car.” He sighed.

“It’s okay.” You tried not to laugh. “I believe you, I believe you.”

“No, you don’t.” He teased. “I can tell by your tone. I’ll prove it to you. Come to movie night with me, as my guest. You can pick out any snack you want as long as it’s not black licorice. You can be my guest tonight.”

“Would that be alright?” You asked. You couldn’t believe that you were seriously considering his offer.

“Well I own the building.” He shrugged. “Thant means I can pretty much do whatever I want.”

“Uh, okay. Let me just call my friends to let them know where I am.” You pulled out your phone and initiated a video call with your best friend, Rachel.

“Oh my god [Y/N]! Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you!” She said when she answered the call. “Did you get lost? Do you need someone to come pick you up?”

“I got a little turned around.” You confessed. “But I made a new friend.” You turned to camera so that Rachel could see Tony. He was pretending to browse the drink fridges once again.

“Is that Tony Stark?” She gasped.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded awkwardly. “How did you recognize him?”

“Everyone knows who he is!” Rachel laughed. “That’s who you ditched us for? I totally understand! Have fun, but not too much fun if you know what I mean!” Rachel wagged her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“Gross! I barely know him!” You hissed back.

“Whatever, have a little fun!” Rachel laughed. “Seriously, you deserve it. I gotta go, your sister is trying to get the bartender’s number. She’s told her no six times. I don’t think there’s going to be a seventh. Gotta go, love you, bye!”

“Who’s that?” Tony asked, walking back towards you. “I like her!”

“My best friend, she’s married.” You explained. “So she tries to live vicariously through me. Now what’s all this anti-licorice propaganda I heard you going on about earlier?”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark Reader Insert #Tony Stark FF #Tony Stark Fan Fic #Tony Stark Fan Fiction

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maatryoshkaa · 6 years ago

Text

young god | chapter 1

serial killer!han jisung au

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

genre: angst, thriller, romance

pairing: han jisung ( stray kids) x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: mild language, mature themes + violence

description: when your best friend Felix sets you up on a blind date with adorable medical student Han Jisung, you find yourself falling for his sweet words and dark eyes, and the even darker secrets he hides behind his charming, angelic smile.

watch the trailer here!

1 | blind date

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, but today it was nearly deserted: just you, two students studying in a booth across the room, and an old man reading what seemed to be a newspaper upside-down in the corner. A lone waitress was stacking clean milkshake glasses behind the counter.

It was raining hard outside, the drops sounding like impatient fingers tapping at the window beside you. As you peered through the glass, you caught a glimpse of a boy on a rusty bike, waiting to cross the street. Yang Jeongin, you recognized -- the delivery boy. A silver Walkman was tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, his lips mouthing the words to a song, a halo of dripping blonde hair sticking out from underneath his hood. He was smiling, despite the fact that it was pouring buckets, and he’d likely been up doing deliveries since 6 in the morning. Yang Jeongin was always smiling.

The light flashed red, traffic halted, and the delivery boy sped away.

Turning your attention back to the empty seat in front of you, you sighed.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

Your mind was running over all the ways you were going to give Felix hell when you saw him in class tomorrow; how you were going to explain to him that you’d been stood up on the blind date he’d arranged for you.

“You know what they call me? The Matchmaker of Miroh Heights. Has a nice ring to it, huh?”

You’d groaned as your best friend wiggled his eyebrows. Felix loved playing wingman. As the school photographer and a talented journalism major, he was the one who came up with the “Cutest Couples” section in the campus newspaper -- photoshoots and candid shots of pairings, most of which he’d set up. Still, you’d never thought that his...work...would extend to you.

It had been a while since you’d entertained the notion of love. You’d had your fair share of unrequited crushes and relationships that had not-so-pleasant endings, so the moment you’d enrolled into college and the workload had swept up your entire schedule, you’d left love on the backburner. You kept telling yourself that the right person would come at the right time -- but Felix seemed to have other ideas.

“Let’s see...Hyojong? Ah, no, I forgot -- he’s taken by that pretty senior. Lucky bastard.” He huffed. “Or...Seungcheol? Nah, doesn’t seem your type. Ah!” He snapped his fingers, making you jump. “I know!”

“Felix, for the last damn time -- I don’t need a boyfriend right now.”

“Just one date? Please?” The blond boy hung up the last photo, a mischievous glint in his eyes visible even in the dark room. “I know a great guy -- health sciences major and everything. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I’m a psychology major, ‘Lix. I don’t know -- you know I’m no good at blind dates--” you caught sight of his puppy-dog expression, and sighed in defeat. “Fine! Fine. What’s his name, then?”

The school journalist flashed an impish grin. “Han Jisung.”

Han Jisung.

He was the reason why you were here, sat in a near-empty diner on a rainy Sunday afternoon, waiting for a date to show up while a pile of psychology coursework waited for you back at home.

Maybe he couldn’t make it, you told yourself -- it was pouring buckets outside. Maybe it was better to swallow your hopes and head back. Biting your lip, you pulled out your phone, tapping on Jisung’s contact (courtesy of Felix) and typing.

New Message

Hey, I’m y/n! I’m really sorry, but I had to leave.

Your finger hovered over the Send button, hesitating. What if he was on his way? Or got caught in traffic? Still, it had been over thirty minutes…

You were so caught up in your dilemma that you barely registered the sound of the diner door swinging open, and the sound of wet footsteps squeaking until they stopped at your booth.

“Hello!”

You nearly threw your phone into the face of the boy who had spoken, his hand shooting out to catch it before it fell to the floor. Drenched from head to toe from the rain -- cheeks flushed and breathing hard as if he’d been running, dark hair falling in his wide eyes, lips spread in a breathless smile -- was your date.

His other hand was hidden behind his back as he handed your phone back to you, cool fingers grazing yours as your eyes met.

Well, shit.

He was absolutely, devastatingly, adorable.

“O-oh, hi!” You stammered. “You’re…”

“Jisung,” he finished for you. “Han Jisung.” He glanced at the empty seat in front of you. “May I…”

“Yeah, of course!” Your heart rate was steadily increasing, and you wanted to slap yourself. It’s just a blind date, y/n, stop getting your hopes up--

Your gaze fell on the hand he was still hiding behind his back as he slid into the booth. Noticing your stare, Jisung slowly and sheepishly pulled out a small bouquet of roses.They were an unusual colour -- a faint, peachy pink rather than the conventional ruby red.

They were also falling apart, clusters of wrinkled petals dripping and blown askew from the wind and rain, no doubt.

“They’re for you. I mean, I completely understand if you don’t want them, it’s just--I passed a florist’s on the way here, but it started raining, and--”

“I love them,” you blurted, and, seeing Jisung raise an eyebrow, you giggled. “I really do.”

You gingerly took the misshapen bouquet from his hands, bringing the flowers to your face and breathing in softly. They smelled pleasantly of petrichor, and something else faint yet sweet.

Jisung watched you, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re -- really pretty.”

You felt the blood rush to your face, your tongue tying into knots and betraying you oncemore. “O-oh,” you squeaked, “th-thank you?”

He chuckled as the waitress came to take your orders for drinks and food.

As she left, Jisung’s gaze wandered around the vintage movie posters, records, and other retro paraphernalia that decorated the diner’s interior. “This place is something else.”

“Right? Every time I come here, I think I’ve stepped into a movie. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Dirty Dancing--” you blushed. “Sorry. I probably sound like a nerd.”

Jisung turned back to you. “Don’t apologize. What’s your favourite kind of movie? Rom-coms?”

“Psychological thrillers, actually,” you admitted shyly. Good gosh, that intense stare in Han Jisung’s eyes was making your heart do somersaults in your chest. “But romcoms are not far behind.”

He hummed in approval, an odd glint in his eyes. “So you’re into psychology?”

“Well, I’m majoring in psychology, so I kind of have to be -- although it’s been pretty hard on me as of late.” You sighed, suddenly remembering the mountain of final assignments weighing on your shoulders.

Jisung leaned in closer, resting his chin on his hands. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just--my final project.They’re testing our ability to communicate with and analyze a patient,” you explained. “Kind of like a therapist simulation. We’re supposed to find someone and, like, apply psychological concepts by giving them mock counselling over the course of a few months. And by the end of it, we have to write a conclusive report on their mental state. I can’t find anyone who’s willing to be my patient, which honestly makes sense -- it’s such an invasive topic.”

Jisung was silent for a long moment, dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he sat up a little straighter, cocking his head to the side. “I could be your patient.”

You blinked, mouth falling open. “Wha--are you sure? I mean, you really don’t have to--and it might take up a lot of your time--”

“I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you,” he replied, eyes glinting, and your heart skipped a beat.

“R-really?” You could already feel an incredulous, relieved smile spreading on your blushing face.

Jisung chuckled. “Just to see you smile like that, trust me -- I’d do anything.”

You were infinitely grateful that at that moment, the waitress arrived with your food. You weren’t sure your face could get any redder. You knew you were a hopeless romantic at heart, and had told yourself time and time again not to be swayed by sweet talk, but this was...different. There was something genuinely sweet in Jisung’s words -- he said them so honestly, with an almost childlike simplicity.

You sipped your drink in a feeble attempt to regain composure. “My turn to ask the questions. What’s your favourite food?”

“Cheesecake,” Jisung replied instinctively. You watched him bite into his burger and giggled at the way his round eyes widened even more before he practically inhaled the rest.

“Favourite season?”

“Winter.”

“Least favourite colour?”

Jisung froze, a weighted silence falling over the table. He swallowed, hard, before replying quietly, “Red.”

When you peered at his face, you felt an icy chill trickle down your spine. His warm brown eyes had darkened and grown impossibly wide, and the colour had drained from his cheeks. Had you said something wrong? You looked down at your clothes -- a soft, oversized beige cardigan and light blue jeans.

“W-well, it’s a good thing I’m not wearing red, then, huh?”

“No.” Jisung shook his head slowly, and his shaky gaze met yours. You felt your mouth go dry at how lost his eyes seemed -- bottomless pools of pitch black. “No, I’m sure you would still look pretty in red.”

As if on cue, your cheeks turned a bright cherry hue.

Deciding to change the topic, you cleared your throat. “What about dogs? Do you like dogs?”

Almost as quickly as it had come, the dark look vanished from his face. “I love dogs!”

By the time the waitress brought the bill, Jisung had you in stitches over a joke he’d made, and you’d long forgotten about the whole ordeal.

The rain had stopped when you two stepped outside. Behind the knitted clouds, the sun was setting, its rays of light seeping through the stormy sky like veins in marble. Jisung’s features were painted a soft gold, warm eyes sparkling as he turned around to face you. His hair was a strange colour, you noted -- under the dim lights of the diner, it had appeared a light brown, but now that you were in the sunlight, it looked more blond. It had also been dripping wet, soaked from sweat or rain or both after running all the way to you, but it had dried off now, the ends curling in his eyes.

Maybe you’d had one dose of sugar too many in your drink, because you suddenly found yourself wanting to touch it. So you did just that, fingers reaching for the soft, fluffy golden locks and ruffling them playfully. Jisung’s eyes held yours the entire time, his gaze questioning.

You huffed. “You’re cute, okay?”

He broke into a smile that made your heart flutter. “Okay.”

Cheeks blazing at your own sudden boldness, you quickly pulled your hand away, fingers lightly grazing the side of his cheek before you stepped back. “I--I’m gonna get going now. Thanks for a great time!”

“Of course. See you next time?” Jisung winked, handing you the bouquet of peach roses.

“S-see you!” With that, you turned and practically ran across the street, heart still threatening to leap out of your chest as you fought the butterflies in your stomach and the smile sneaking onto your face.

Behind you, Jisung’s face darkened, smile slipping from his lips as you disappeared from his sight.

#han jisung #stray kids #han jisung imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #han jisung angst #stray kids yandere #han jisung yandere #serial killer!AU #stray kids soft #han jisung boyfriend #stray kids boyfriend

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opheliacassiopea · 4 years ago

Text

CHAPTER 6.

TW: Mature language, mentions of alcohol consumption.

Flopping down on your sofa the next morning, you find yourself grinning at the thought of last night as you look through the many pictures that had been taken to document the events of the evening. You insisted on using your Polaroid camera to capture most of the evening, the walls of your apartment were littered with small snapshots of your life; the team, your friends outside of work, nature, anything that made you feel at peace. Your apartment, much like your appearance was how you expressed yourself and it was your sanctuary.

Looking through the photos, Hotch plays on your mind. He looked good last night, so much so that you had to fight with yourself to stop stealing glances at him. You knew it was wrong to think about him like that, but it was nearly impossible when the man looked that good. Especially his hands, the prominent veins and the polished silver Rolex that sat on his wrist making him look even more attractive. Pulling out a photo of the both of you laughing at Spence’s attempts to beat Derek at a game of snooker, you think back to the conversation at the table.

“You did good, you did good, Pais”. ‘Pais’. Not Selwyn, not Paisley, Pais. As you repeated it, it sounded strange at first, or at least it did until you imagined Hotch being the one saying it and then it felt right. Did he realise the significance of giving you a nickname? The very word is defined as ‘a substitute for the proper name of a familiar person and often used to express affection, it is a form of endearment and amusement’. Surely he must have done, he wasn’t the type of person to do that sort of thing, something that..intimate. Plus, he knew you weren’t one for your name being shortened by just anybody. Was he trying to say something, to tell you something? Of course he isn’t you tell yourself, he’s your superior for God’s sake. Pushing thoughts of your boss to one side, you carried on about your weekend. Despite your plans not being thrilling, you were looking forward to them nonetheless. You had dedicated the time to catch up on much needed sleep and general self care and you were incredibly glad of the opportunity. Always valuing time to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that the weekend vanished at a frightening pace.

Flipping through the information brochure, you don't bother looking up at JJ who speaks to you “Spence tells me you’ve picked lecturing for the last module of your doctorate?”. The team, well you JJ, Prentiss, Morgan and Reid were currently sitting at the round table on your lunch hour, which was a rare occurrence with your schedules, you were nearly always working a case, or too swamped with paperwork. Garcia was hidden away in her lair doing who knows what, Rossi out for some fancy lunch and Hotch locked away in his office.

“Yeah, figured it couldn’t be too difficult and the genius himself has offered to help me prepare in the library so it seems like a win win if you ask me” you reply to her as you finally stop reading and look up at the faces around the table “what? It’s not like he’s writing my thesis, I’m just being resourceful and making the most of what's available, y’know?” you defend yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh so you’ll accept Reid's help, but not mine? You wound me pretty girl” Morgan teases, throwing an empty bottle at you, which you catch effortlessly and throw it into the bin, but not before you roll your eyes at him, sending him a cheeky smile as you do.

Disconnecting herself from JJ’s embrace, Emily stands and crosses to you, picking up the brochure you were reading and scans over the information, before discarding it and spinning the chair you were sitting in toward her, clearly she could sense your apprehension. “You’ll do great Paisley, you’ll hit every inch of this criteria, I doubt you even need Reid’s help and besides, it’s not like you need another qualification to prove yourself, you’ve earned your place here” she tells you and you find that you have to force yourself to hold her gaze so you give nothing away.

One of the reasons you had multiple degrees was because on some level, you did feel the need to prove yourself, to prove you were doing something with your intellect and to prove that you did have a place on this team. Never did you want to be looked at as the baby FBI agent, who simply followed the others on the team like a shadow. On the other hand however, you genuinely loved learning and felt it was only natural to continue your studies to the highest level

and you were proud of yourself for doing so, you’d come a long way since your childhood, but you didn’t want to dwell on that for long. A few weeks pass and you soon find yourself sat in one of your favourite places; the older, dustier and lesser well known section of the bureau library, scanning over various notepads and books whilst feverishly typing at your laptop planning your first lecture. Looking across the table at Spencer, who kept true to his word and accompanied you to the library for assistance, you voice your initial plan for your first lecture in a few weeks.

“I’m thinking of starting with nineteenth-century literature with the themes of crime and detection as a general focus and then work my way into psycho-linguistics with instances in literature, before moving on to case specific examples”. Whilst you held a close bond with Derek, you were good friends with Spencer too. The two of you would often hold mini academic debates between yourselves on the way home from a case, or on the phone in the early hours of the morning. From an outsider’s perspective it may look like something more, but that wasn’t the case, you genuinely just had a lot in common and it was nice to be able to watch Harry Potter over and over with somebody who gave no complaints.

“What texts are you thinking of using? I personally think that Arthur Conan Doyle’s, Sherlock Holmes stories would be a fine choice. It’s more of an obvious one as the element of crime is incredibly apparent and the style of writing is fascinating on it’s own, so it would break the students in nicely I think.” Spencer reveals and you nod in agreement, returning to your typing.

The weekly sessions in the library seem nothing more than distant memories as you find yourself standing at the front of the lecture hall listening to Professor Moore’s introductions. You begin to wish you’d chosen a different final module. Why were you so nervous? You chased serial killers down on a day to day basis, surely you could give a lecture to a bunch of hopeful students for an hour?

“Much to your enjoyment, I will not be lecturing you for these next three months” Professor Moore informs her students in a lighthearted tone. You knew firsthand she was a good teacher and hoped her students didn’t expect too much from you. “This fine young woman will be taking over as part of the last module for her doctorate in criminology and psychology, so please be kind to her and don’t even think about any kind of tomfoolery in my absence, I will be dropping in and keeping in direct contact with Paisley so don’t think it will go unnoticed.” she looks at you and winks as she tells them “plus, she’s one hell of an FBI agent so she won’t tolerate it anyway”.

“Right well, thanks for that Professor. Uh, I’m Paisley and as you know I’ll be taking over for these next three months, hopefully you’ll find it as quick and painless as possible” you tell them, hoping it will break some of the tension and it does, you find the students take to you well as you dive in to the job you’re there to do. “We’re going to start with looking at nineteenth-century literature through the themes of crime and detection. I know this isn’t the big stuff right away and I apologise for that, but I find it’s better to develop a general understanding of the topic first, before delving deeper.” you tell them as you begin to pace the lecture hall out of nervousness.

“This is the century which saw the creation of the Metropolitan Police Force in London, the birth of private and police detectives, and the rise of investigations into the psychology and social causes of crime. The genres of detective fiction and the dramatic monologue which both emerged during this period will be largely focused on, but we’ll also take a look into less frequently studied genres like journalism to give you a full flavour of the period’s insatiable taste for crime”. Switching to the next powerpoint slide, you take a breath and steady yourself, maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Fictional texts are studied in the context of contemporary debates about crime, policing, criminal responsibility and madness, including legal texts and those related to the emerging science of psychology. We will be studying the texts through genre theory and cultural and historical perspectives”. As you look out to the back of the lecture hall, you’re able to make out the familiar figure of Dr Spencer Reid. He’d taken one look at you that morning in the bullpen and knew how nervous you were; you’d paced back and forth to the break room countless times, drinking far more tea than usual and barely uttering a word to anybody as you fiddled with the two necklaces that always hung round your neck.

You bite back a smile and continue speaking to the students “indicative primary texts for the semester will consist of a selection of popular crime ballads and the dramatic monologues about murder and madness by Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, along with a selection of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories. It’s absolutely essential that you all keep up with the reading. And with that, I’ll leave it there for now. Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions and I’ll see you all next time”.

Watching the students disperse from the room, you breath out a long sigh of relief and throw yourself into a nearby chair and by the time you get back to the bullpen, Spencer is practically screaming at the top of his voice as he tells anybody that would listen about how well you’d done in the lecture, speaking in just the right tone to be authoritative, but relatable and approachable. In short, he was incredibly proud of you and pride radiated off every inch of him.

Two months had now passed and much to your surprise, it had now become part of your daily routine that Hotch would sit on the chair beside your desk during your twenty minute break at eleven o’clock each morning. At the start of your break you’d always find a cup of tea, perfectly made on your desk and each day you’d find yourself smiling as you knew who it was from. If Hotch was in a particularly good mood, he’d surprise you with a vanilla milkshake and raspberry muffin like he had done that very first time. If the team hadn’t picked up on it at first, they definitely had now, but they chose not to say anything.

Some days you’d talk in depth about all manner of things, whereas other days you would find yourselves both working away in a comforting silence. Today was one of his chattier days and he greeted you with a smile as he placed a mug of tea down for you, and a mug of coffee for himself. “You’ve never told me the story behind all these little cartoon frogs pinned to your noticeboard” he begins, tracing his fingers over them as he looks to you for an explanation.

“You never asked, I’m surprised you didn’t use those profiling skills of yours to figure it out” you reply in a joking manner as you set your mug down. “To answer your question though, Spence asked me what my favourite animal was when I first started and when I told him it was a frog, he started to draw me one for each month of the year to help me settle in. I’ve got one of them tattooed on my ankle, I’m surprised you’ve not noticed it” you finish telling him.

“Can I see it? The tattoo?” he asks and you notice the nervousness in his voice and it makes you smile, seeing him almost shy is so unnatural you’re not quite sure how to act. You comply, kicking off your doc martens and pulling your left trouser leg up to reveal the image of a frog wearing a hat, sat on the edge of a teacup. It’s not the most conventional tattoo in the world, but you love it nonetheless. “It’s very you, I’ll give you that” he tells you as he helps you back into your shoe.

You share a small laugh and you begin to pick up a file, ready to get back to work as the break comes to an end and the team filter back into the room and head to their desks. It’s Prentiss who asks you first “how’re feeling about your final lecture next week, Miss almost Dr Selwyn?” as she maneuvers a huge stack of case files from one side of her desk to the other.

“Pretty good I think, just want to find out who the assessor is and get it over and done with to be honest” you tell her as you begin looking for a case consult you’d lost in a stack of folders.

“Doesn’t Hotch normally assess some of the final modules? He used to guest lecture with Rossi and Gideon quite a lot” JJ asks as she collects a pile of completed files from the table.

“Actually no, he stopped guest lecturing once Gideon..uh...left” Reid fills you in “he thought it took up too much of his time and it was more productive to focus on leading the unit”.

“Huh, well at least you know it won’t be Hotch” Emily tells you and you smile in response as you dial the internal number for a copy of the police report for the consult you were working on. The rest of the day passes easily as you work through your files, thankfully not being interrupted by a new case and the rest of the week sailed by smoothly.

This was it, the final week of your doctorate. You’d been allocated reduced duties to allow time for the final hand in of your thesis, along with the multitude of exams you had to complete and you now you just had your final assessed lecture to complete. Arriving slightly earlier than anticipated due to your nerves, you decide to busy yourself replying to emails at your desk in the relatively empty bullpen, mulling over the happenings over the past week in the process.

Hotch had been keeping his distance and you didn't have it in you to figure out why, you’d just presumed it was just work and left it at that. Realistically you had far too much to worry about; the past week had left you feeling the most stressed you’d felt in years.

Shifting your gaze to Hotch��s office, you’re able to see him talking on the phone, eyebrows furrowed together and jaw clenched. Clearly he’s not in a good mood and you’re thankful you’ll be out of the office all day. Checking through your notes one last time before you make your way to the lecture hall to set up, Hotch’s voice alerts you to his presence, you’d been so caught up in going over your notes that you didn't notice him leave his office. “Don’t you have a lecture to teach, Selwyn?”.

Before you can even look at him, he’s turned his back and retreated to his office. Pushing through the glass doors, you furrow your brows in confusion; what was his problem? It was only on your arrival to the lecture hall that your nerves began to kick in, this was it, once you’d finished teaching this class, your doctorate would be complete. Beginning to set up the powerpoint slides and distributing the resources for the lecture you find yourself slipping into a state of calmness as you worked, you could do this and you could do it well. Treat it like a case briefing you told yourself. Ten minutes later students begin to file into their seats and you’re pleased to greet Professor Moore who’s acting as the assessment supervisor. Toward the end of the lecture, you noticed an extra body had slipped into one of the seats on the back row and you knew who it was instantly. Aaron Hotchner. You’ve got to be fucking joking. He’d spent the better part of a week avoiding you and when he did speak to you, it was mostly dismissive and now he had the gall to show up to your final assignment. Swallowing the urge to throw one of the bulky textbooks at him for his sheer nerve, you continue explaining your current point to the students.

“We’ve already been over the idea that psycholinguistics is the study of how the psyche responds to words and languages and this is how it’s distinguished from sociolinguistics. One focuses on the social dimension of language, and it’s stylistic patterns, whereas the other focuses on the expressive functions of language”.

You begin to bring the lecture to a close, but not before thanking the students for their patience and hard work throughout the semester and you’re quick to express your gratitude to the professor for all her help and support. And just like that it was over, you were done. Hastily, you start to pack away the resources from the lecture in order to avoid a conversation with Hotch, his dismissive attitude had annoyed you all week and you weren’t thrilled at the sight of him in your lecture after the way he’d spoken to you this morning.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask him in a cold tone, your eyes focused on shoving your laptop in your bag as you wait for his response, but you don’t receive one. Scanning the room one last time for any of your belongings, you promptly turn on your heel and exit the room, ignoring his calls as you melt away into the sea of scurrying students.

Things between the two of you eventually returned to normal, you weren’t even sure what ‘it’ was at this point and you didn’t care to ask, you weren’t even sure that it was normal. Hotch didn’t do these kinds of things or so you thought, but you knew better than to question it. Recently the team had been pushed in all directions, working case after case with little to no breaks, so it came as no surprise to you that the month of your graduation arrived in no time at all, acting as the perfect distraction for you all.

Pulling the garment onto your body, you admired the satin fabric of the deep purple dress you’d chosen to wear that day, it’s strappy sleeves allowing the many tattoos that graced the upper

half of your left arm to be shown off, along with the low neckline displaying the delicate tattoos on your collarbones. Before slipping on your graduation cap and gown, you add the finishing touches to your makeup, deciding to go for more of a dramatic look, if there was a day to go all out, it was definitely today. Giving yourself the once over, you feel a bubble of nerves form in the pit of your stomach, today was the day you were graduating and whilst you were excited, you felt apprehensive. Now that you were about to graduate, the pressure to live up to your new title was immeasurable and you were keen not to disappoint.

“Miss Paisley Anora Selwyn”.

You stand as your name is called, focusing on not falling over in your heels as you walk across the stage to receive your doctorate. There were no words to sum up how you felt, the moment was indescribable and as you walked back to your seat, you could hear a chorus of cheers and shouts from the team who insisted on buying tickets to watch the ceremony and later celebrate at one of the slightly fancier bars in the area. Luckily you’d managed to talk Penelope down from doing anything over the top and she very reluctantly agreed, making you settle instead for a compromise that allowed her to buy you a extravagant gift instead.

“Tonight we’re here to celebrate Dr Paisley Anora Selwyn, many many congratulations” Dave begins the toast and you inwardly cringe at the use of your middle name.

Midway through the pleasantries, you feel Hotch’s hand resting on your lower back and you resist the urge to turn and smile up at him, instead opting for shuffling closer, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks as you do so.

“Dr Paisley Anora Selwyn” the team echo as they raise their glasses to you, all grinning from ear to ear.

As the night progresses, you lean back against the bar, taking stock of the day. It was hard to believe that only three months ago that you were sat up till the early hours of the morning studying, the end seeming to be miles away, and now you’d finally done it. That wasn’t the only thing on your mind though, much like usual, Hotch occupied your thoughts. All throughout the night there had been subtle touches, stolen glances, and silent conversations between the two of you, and you loved it. Appearing next to you at the bar, Hotch’s arm slips round your waist, pulling you closer into his side as he congratulates you.

“I’m proud of you, well done, Pais”.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #fbi #behavioural analysis unit #aaron hotchner #aaron #aaron hotch hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch #ssa hotchner #hotch x you #hotch x reader #hotch x oc

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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years ago

Text

Demon Dabi x Reader

A stranger in the woods has a peculiar offer for an unsuspecting fem reader.

Halloween special won the vote! I’m writing kinky things for kinktober! Send me a request!

Warning: This is quite a bit more dark than some of my other works. It’s not super graphic or anything but you’ve been warned.

“We really should not be here.” You swallowed what felt like a rock. Everyone thought it was funny that you were so frightened to be out here. I mean, it’s October. Walking around in a cemetery, at midnight with a bunch of cheap flashlights? This feels like a horror movie. You held your flashlight with shaky hands, your trio of friends giggled as they started to leave you behind. “Hey wait for me!” You called and your blonde friend Lilly turned around and jumped at you. “OoOooooO!!” She jumped around you, acting like a ghost. “I’m an ooold spirit that haunts these woods!!” You stopped and crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. “Quit teasing me. I’m not scared of ghosts!” You walked past your friend and she jogged a bit to catch up. “Yes you are you big baby! You know what they say about this forest...” Lilly’s sister Iris turned around to poke you. “They don’t say anything about this forest. I’m not afraid of ghosts, I’m scared of real threats like getting lost in the pitch black woods!” You shouted, not really getting too irritated. Your friends love you but think you could loosen up, you frequently close your eyes at scary movies and don’t go on a lot of dates. The three of them always try to push you past your boundaries, and you’re grateful they care enough about you to drag you out for some fun. Your third friend Ami playfully slapped Iris. “Quit teasing her so hard. I think I see the smoke from J’s party!” She pointed and took off running.

Lilly giggled and ran after her, leaving you and Iris. “Not to be too freaky, but I did get a cryptic warning from J when he invited us.” Her voice lowered and you rolled you eyes again. “Whatever Iris.” You brushed her off and she grabbed your arm. “I guess a dude went missing around here a couple months ago, and someone else a few months before that. He told me to take my taser just in case.” She handed it to me. “I plan on getting trashed so I need you to hold it.” She said with a wink. She started to jog towards the smoke too. “Since you’re so brave now!” She called over her shoulder playfully. Of course she’s planning to get wasted, you’ll be the sober babysitter once again! “I’m plenty brave...” You muttered to yourself, grabbed hold of the taser tightly. “Ghosts aren’t even real...” You started to trudge after them. “Not a believer are ya?” A low raspy voice called from behind. You tripped forward and twisted around with a gasp. You looked up at a fearsome man. He had piercing turquoise eyes that shone in the dark. You dropped your flashlight and a warm hand clamped over your mouth. He held up a finger to his mouth and shushed you, promptly disappearing into a cloud of thick smoke. You gasped after his hand left your mouth and stood their shaking. “Come on Y/N! Hurry up!” You heard your friends call into the dark for you. You bent down to pick up your flashlight, it had turned itself off after you dropped it. You pressed the rubber button on the side and it lazily flickered on, just to sputter right off. You slapped the bottom of it a few times, begging it to turn back on. “Dammit... please!” You shook the flashlight a few more time’s and nothing happened. You tossed the stupid thing to the floor and tried to call out to your friends. Your voice just came out in a small squeak, barely even making an audible sound. You took a step forward, clutching the taser firmly in your sweaty palms. What the hell just happened? You cursed at yourself for being so stupid. What if that was a serial killer or something! Your feet crunched crisp decaying leaves, the only sound you hear beside your shallow breathing.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Something sounded off about Lilly’s voice. Her usually chipper tone was hollow, and echoed loudly through all of the tree leaves. You stopped walking and narrowed your eyes. Where did the moonlight go? It’s so much darker now. The smell of burning pine wood flooded your nose and you coughed. A thick smoke was hanging above your head.

“You know, you’re kind of cute.” That low voice called out and you spun around, nothing was behind you. A dark laugh echoed through your ears and the tree’s blew harshly in the wind. Your body finally allowed you to pick up and run. You sprinted through the forest, trying to dodge low branches and thick foliage. The smoke started to effect your lungs, you coughed into your elbow, looking away from your feet on the path for just a moment. You ran directly into someone tall and they caught you. “Hey now, where do you think you’re going?” Two hands grasped your shoulders and held you firmly in place. “I thought we were just getting started.” He smirked and clicked his tongue. You couldn’t see his features in the dark, all you can see is the slightest glimmer of silver metal in various places on his face. You clicked on the taser and jammed it into his stomach, hoping to send an insane amount of voltage coursing through his body. A spark flashed out of the end of the small but powerful device, a loud zapping sound bursting through the air and hitting your ears.

The man shivered like something cold touched his neck, but was otherwise unaffected by the electrocution. “Hey now, no need to be so aggressive.” He purred, white teeth shone out from behind a devilish smirk. “Aren’t we just having a little bit of fun?” Your eyes were glued to the useless taser, your fingers still tightly coiled around it. “Please, call me Dabi.” He said, aloof.

Blue flames erupted around you, the damp foliage hissing with smoke. The fire revealed your situation, you thought he might have been wearing a long sleeve shirt, but really his arms were covered in a deep tissue scar. His face had multiple staples connecting burnt tissue to healthier looking pale skin. His eye’s were a startling turquoise, the fire illuminating the madness that glazed over his pupils.

The fire licked at the sides of your jacket, the rush of the heat forcing you closer to him. You stumbled into his chest. He laughed darkly and grabbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. His warm fingers pinched you harshly, you attempted to push him away and then quickly realized you’d shove yourself right into the burning forest. “Feeling feisty are we?” He had no smile on his face now, his look holding a menacing curiosity. “So tell me, little red riding hood...” He ran a finger down the side of your face. “What brings you out here to the big bad wolfs forest?” The fires around you disappeared, the forest that was quickly going up in flames returned to normal. The smoke dissipated, the moonlight peaking through the tops of the tree’s as he let go of his firm hold on you. “What... what are you?” The words fell out of your shocked mouth, your fear being overcome by something more confusing.

His looming height, his deep voice. The way the blue light had danced around you two like sinister ballerinas. You should be screaming and terrified, clawing your way away from him.

Yet you felt something else.

You felt like you were in a dream.

“Answering my question with another question?” He took a step towards you.

You took one back, not taking your eyes off of his face.

His somehow, lovely face...

“That isn’t very polite, doll face.” He tilted his his jaw up when he spoke to you, his eyebrow half cocked. “Do I need to teach you some manners?” He took another step towards you and you stammered back, shaking your head no with wide eyes. He smiled, drinking up your fear. “Alright then, let’s try this again.” He asked crossing one arm over his chest, holding the other hand out, letting a blue flame hover over his palm. “What has got such a nice looking young lady walking around out here by herself?”

“I’m... I’m with my friends...” You took a shallow breath and tried to sound more confident. “There’s supposed to be a party here tonight.” You said a little more sturdy. Maybe if he knows people are looking for you, he’ll leave you alone.

“I didn’t peg you for a party girl.” He let out a raspy laugh. “That sounds kinda fun, maybe I’ll drop by for some fun.” He licked his front teeth, each tooth in his mouth was pointed like a sharks. You gasped and fell backwards, your shoulders hit the base of a strong tree, sending a sharp pain up your spine. “Thanks for the invitation sweet heart.” He drew out his last words with a deep bellied laugh, the flames in his palm spreading to his entire body.

In just a moment, he was gone.

“Hey there you are!” Iris walked around the paths turn as she yelled at you. “I thought we really got separated for a minute there.” She stopped in her tracks as she saw you plastered against the tree, your fingers digging into the bark shooting sharp pain under your nails. Your face is void of color, and your chest is heaving. “Oh my god! You look like you just saw a ghost.” She rushed over to you and grabbed your hand, pulling you down the path. “I know you can be a bit of a chicken, but we barely ran ahead! You should of just followed us.” She sounded more irritated than worried about your well being. “Iris there was someone out here.” You forced the words out of your wind pipe, looking over your shoulder.

The night air felt heavy, like has was standing right in front of you, using all of the fresh air for himself.

“Yeah duh, there’s like, thirty people out here.” She scoffed pulling you towards the sound of speakers thumping. You could hear the bass boosting, people were laughing and singing. You yanked on her hand, trying to pull her back so she would listen. “I’m not talking about the party there was a man and he-” She whipped her head and scowled at you. “Can you chill? You’re acting nuts.“

Her words stung, but it’s not like this was the first time your friends had brushed you off.

You bit your tongue. “It’s not really the time to be pulling a prank.” She softened her harsh tone a bit. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She said, her mood completely shifting. Her voice was sing song-y, she waggled her eyebrows at me. “He’s super smart. I think you’ll like him.”

The party was in full swing, a small bon fire was burning in the center of the clearing. A few cut logs circled around the fire, along with a few canvas camp chairs. They were all abandoned, everyone either dancing or standing around talking into their drinks. Lily waved frantically at me, she was hanging off of J’s arm, her face pink from the alcohol already. Iris followed you over to them and Lily touched your face a little harder than she meant too and giggled. “H-ey!” She pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You have got to meet J’s brother. His name is Kai!” You followed her to a boy standing alone by the drink table. He had floppy blonde hair that curled onto his forehead. He wore thick rimmed glasses and had honey brown colored eyes hiding behind them. He gave you a sweet smile. “Oh hi, you must be Y/N.” He had light freckles sprinkled across his cheeks. “Wanna sit and talk?” He pointed to the fire and you joined him. You two talked for a little while, he told you about his classes and a few other mundane get to know you things.

“Yeah it’s a pretty tough major, I have to study-” He stopped talking for a second.

“Are you alright?” You asked him, his face turning kind of green. “Yeah I just suddenly feel terrible.” He wiped some sweat off of his head. “And hot.” He stood up and stumbled towards the forest line. You started to stand up to go after him, when he whipped around with a smile. “I’m okay sweet heart. How’s your drink?” He asked, his voice suddenly lower. Your heart sunk in your stomach as he sauntered over to you, taking a place back on the log. He threw an arm around your neck and pressed your head against his shoulder. “This party is kind of lame...” He whispered so that only you could hear him. Not that anyone was paying much attention to you two. “Wanna get out of here babe?” He purred into your ear. You sat up and shoved him off of you. His glasses shifted off his nose from your push. His brown eyes swirled into another color, now a bright blue. You gasped and he held up a finger. “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the party now would you?” He said with a wink. “You need to get out of here!” You said through clamped lips, trying not to make a scene. “No way beautiful! I’m enjoying myself. Let me have a sip of that.” He snatched your drink and took a gulp. He spit it out immediately. “Is that water? What’s wrong with you!?” He dropped your plastic cup on the ground. “Let’s get you a real drink.” He reached out to take your hand and you threw your hands in the air. “What? No! Where’s Kai?” You wanted to pull your hair out. It was like talking to a brick wall. “Is he really your type? He seems like a fuckin’ dork.” He gave you a soft flick in the forehead. You slapped his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you want?”

A wide grin spread across Kai’s face, a look you didn’t think the boy’s body had ever made before. “That’s a good question.” His gaze trailed from your eyes down your body. You covered your chest by crossing your arms, feeling self conscious suddenly. “I was feeling a bit bored, so I was going to torch these drunk kids.” He looked over at your group of friends, Lily was spilling her drink, Iris and Ami were grinding on each other to impress the two boys standing nearby. “A big fire, a bunch of drunk idiots. It’d be written off as a terrible tragedy.” He clicked his tongue. “You know what? That does still sound kinda fun.”

You punched him in the arm. “Will you stop it!” You said a little too loud. A boy from your campus gave you a weird look from a few feet away, but didn’t interfere. “Did you just punch a demon?” He asked with a straight face. You brushed off his words, the anger boiling over. “You know I think I have you figured out.” You narrowed your eyes and jammed a finger on his chest. “You just like causing drama, don’t you!” You sighed, exasperated. “You’re just like my damn friends. Doing and saying whatever you want without regard for anyone’s feelings.” A few tears stung behind your eyes. “So can you politely fuck off?”

The man hiding behind Kai’s face was intrigued. “You know what...” His voice was raspy. “I like you Y/N.” You blinked and his scarred face appeared in place of Kai’s, his floppy hair hiding part of his forehead. He leaned in and cupped your face, planting a hungry kiss on your lips. Your eyes fluttered close, his lips were surprisingly soft as they smashed into yours. He pulled back and bit your bottom lip hard, drawing a bit of blood. You winced and tried to pull away. He pressed his mouth back onto yours for a moment longer, gripping your face to hold you just where he wanted you.

He pressed his mouth against your ear and whispered to you. “You don’t belong here.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. Why would he say that? You belong here, you thought. J and his friends didn’t invite you specifically but you knew that the girls always take you anyway.

Yeah that’s why they dumped you on the only other loser at the party...

A little voice in the back of your head said.

No I mean, Kai is nice. They probably thought you two would make a nice couple.

“Why would you say that?” You looked at his face, it was back to Kai’s. His eye color the only thing giving him away.

“Aw come on, look around you!” he motioned to the party goers.

Beautiful people, popular people. You could never be one of them... that familiar ping of rejection sat in your stomach.

“I- I know...” You started to say and he interrupted. “You’re so much better than them!” He said loudly. The party seemed so far away, the thumping music warping and sounding like distant violins. Smoke gathered low on the ground. Your dancing friends were moving in slow motion as shadows, you couldn’t tell them apart.

The man stood up, his body looking like his own now. You looked around for Kai, you saw nothing but warped silhouettes.

“You have a unique soul...” His voice echoed around you. “You don’t deserve to be stepped on, treated like you’re anything less than a goddess!” He was shouting, horns grew out of his head. They were spiraled and black, jutting out of his dark hair. “I’m not a goddess...” You looked down at your body, at your hands. You feel so plain, your friends tell you that about your style all the time. One of the shadows appeared in front of you. A shrill voice called out from its gaping mouth. “You can’t wear that out with us! You look dumpy!” It was a quote from Lily. Another shadow loomed over you. “Could you stop panicking? It’s killing the vibe!” It screeched something Iris said to you often. You dropped to your knee’s and covered your ears. “Are you really eating that? I just know that I could never.” Ami’s shadow said behind you, quietly. Her words always coming as a surprise attack, she would stick up for you but only to a point.

The demon took a step between you and the harsh memories. His arms glowing with his blue flames. He had large black wings that blew them away with one quick gust. “You’re not a goddess yet...” He tipped your chin gently, making your teary eyes look up at him. “But if you come with me, I’ll show you real power.” He said aloof, his face not showing too much emotion anymore. He had a cool, stoic glance as he studied your features. “Where would we go?”

He smiled. “Anywhere, everywhere.” He knelt down, crouching in front of you. He leaned in close to you, still holding your face. “I’ll take you to my kingdom, where you’ll sit on my lap on my throne.” His hand left your chin and slowly crept just below it, holding onto your throat with his thumb and pointer finger. “You’ll be my sexy little pet, hopelessly spoiled and relentlessly fucked, for eternity.”

He squeezed your throat gently, just barely applying pressure. The warmth of desire crawled through you slowly, heat building in your core. “Give yourself to me...” He growled in your ear. A small whine left your lips, riling the demon lord up further. He pressed himself on you, you lost your balance and fell onto your back.

The bonfire burned blue, it’s embers floated lazily above you two in the air. The shadows seemed even further away as the landscape around you changed. The tree’s grew even taller, the gnarled branches reaching impossibly high. The lush grass of the clearing was gone, your back rested on a warm stone.

He parted your legs and pressed his hips hard on you, you whimpered, his cock pressing against your inexperienced body. “Dabi...” He reveled in your sweet cries for him. “Yes, little red?” He felt a rush of primal energy. His voice was layered, an echoing deep sound that vibrated in your head. “I want to go with you...” A clawed finger touched your neck, you felt a searing pain as he burnt an ‘x’ on your unblemished skin. You screamed, but you didn’t push him away. The burn was a tattoo, a small black dragon that spit blue flames. It’s flames coiled around your neck, a thin line around you like a collar.

You heard distant screaming, was that Lily crying? He was removing your clothes, your breath heavy and hands shaking with excitement. You opened your eyes and looked to the side, you could see part of your old world through a blue wall of fire.

The party was up in flames.

Dabi bit down on the side of your breast, snapping your attention back to him. “Eye’s on me pet.” He looked you in the eye as he plunged himself inside of you. You cried out, he pulled himself out of your throbbing sex and tasted your virgin blood on his tongue. “What an obedient little minx.” He pulled your hips to him, dragging your bare body across the stone. He towered over you, enjoying how small and powerless you looked underneath him.

His hips were wild, he thrust into your dripping walls with incredible force. His size stretching your muscles to better fit him. You could do nothing but scream his name, begging him for another orgasm. He deliciously obliged, giving your body the shaking release it craved. He slowed just slightly, you felt his staff pulse inside of you seemingly out of nowhere, a slight twinge in his face giving away the only clue that he was finished with you for now. His hot seed spilled into you, he stopped his erratic movements and leaned down to your lips as he pulled out. Your body is covered in bite marks and bruises, his kiss coming as a soft surprise. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he smiled into your mouth. “I could get used to this...” You choked out through a lust filled throat.

Your mind never trailed away from him even for a moment, your old life behind you in a flash. You felt your head while laying beneath him, you’d grown two little curved horns.

#dabi x reader #bnha reader #bnha dabi #kinktober bnha #kinktober dabi #dabi lemon #bnha au #monster bnha #lemon bnha #kinktober #bnha halloween special

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cirvat · 4 years ago

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Day 30- Altogether Different

A party at a stranger’s house. A night of barhopping led here and the world had started tilting on its own hours ago. There is a constant tickle on the back of their neck. Their heart beat speeds up.

-----

Rose took being the designated driver with the kind of glee that most people probably didn’t even think of feeling. She relished looking after her drunk friends. Of course, ‘looking after’ was a strong phrase for what she was doing.

“Where are you?” Marcus’s voice, which Rose has to plug her other ear to hear over the phone, was flavored with just the right kind of parental exhaustion to spread a grin over her face.

“Hell if I know!” She shouted back. Grace, who was draped over her back, let out a little whimper. Rose patted her cheek. “I’m just following the group here!”

“That’s not what a designated driver does, Rose.”

“Hey, they chose me knowing what kind of person I am!”

“Please don’t let Lukas go home with another serial killer.”

“I’m not going to stop my boy from having a good time, Marcus!”

“He had to bury the remains with a hangover.”

“That’s what he gets for being that drunk!” Rose waved Grace off when she whispered something about getting food. “Besides it was just one more asshole getting what was coming to him!”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Dancing!” She glanced over to see the man wrapped up in two other people. “Grace went off to find a snack!”

“Rose…”

“What?”

“...” Rose could feel the sigh he let out in her soul. “Don’t attract attention. Loke will murder you if we have to move again.”

“No worries, Marcus! I know when to step in!” Rose’s grin stretched wider, just on the side of too wide.

“It’s not a question of know. It’s a question of will.”

“What was that, Marcus?! Sorry! It’s so loud in here! Oh, jeez, sorry I gotta go! Grace is fighting someone by the punch bowl!”

“Rose-!” She hung up.

She breathed in deep and let the mania of a college party wash over her. The passion seeped into her pores and made her lick her lips.

The eyes that had been on her since she walked in only intensified in pressure. Her curious little watcher was trying to be discrete but was falling short.

Her watcher, a short young woman with black hair and sharp eyes, sat at the bar area. She slowly rocked her glass of alcohol (some kind of scotch maybe? Rose wasn’t sure, she’d never been able to identify the breeds of liquor) in a slow back and forth and didn’t look away even as Rose stared back.

Rose let her smile fall back into something more natural. With a flick of her auburn hair, she wove her way through the crowd.

She ignored her companions as she passed them. Lukas had claimed a love seat and was currently viciously attacking another man’s mouth with his own. Grace was in the depths of story telling and her audience was growing, ensnared by her words. Rose stepped out into the backyard patio with a delicate step.

The sound of harsh bass lines muted although she could still feel the beat of it in her bones. She gave some small smiles to the people milling around on the grass and began making her way toward the trees that fenced in the backyard.

She smirked when the door opened and shut behind her.

She wove through the trees just as she had through the crowd. She kept off any kind of beaten path, straining her ears against the gentle forest sounds.

The lack of any noise behind her set her heart to a leaping pace.

She whipped around to face the woman behind her. She let out a laugh at her watcher’s wide eyes and began to run backwards.

Her watcher followed.

Rose led her little shadow on a merry chase, ducking under branches she couldn’t see and dodging tree trunks behind her.

They reached the clearing in record time.

“Surprising,” Rose finally spoke when they stood on opposite sides of the field, “it isn’t often we see a hunter taking interest in a college party.”

“...” Her watcher narrowed her eyes. “Surprising, it isn’t often I see a group of demons taking interest in a college party.”

“Really? That’s silly!” Rose sat on the grass, her mini skirt flaring on the ground beneath her. “Young people are so full of emotion.”

“But they aren’t like you.” Her watcher stared her down. “Are they?”

“Who’s to say, really?” Rose shrugged. “Even if one feeds on flesh and another on attention. We are the same.”

“No.” Her watcher took a step forward. “They aren’t like you.”

“No one is like me.” Rose finally smiled with her teeth.

“You weren’t there to feed.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“Wasn’t.”

“My watcher,” Rose leaned forward, “you smell so good.”

She did. The smell of overripe peaches and cream spiced with cinnamon and rosemary. It had Rose salivating.

“I’m not your anything.”

“You became mine the second I entered that little building, my dear.” Rose began to crawl toward her. “Won’t you tell me your name?”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ve been. It didn’t agree with me.” Rose pressed forward. “Please, your name?”

“Fuck you!” Her watcher pulled out a thin silver blade.

“If you’d like. After your name is given I would happily do so.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“You’re welcome to try.” Rose grabbed her ankle and began to use her body to pull herself to standing. “Your name.”

Her watcher’s hand flashed out and the blade wedged deep into her forehead.

“Hm.” Rose licked at the blood that trailed down her cheek. She was now not even two inches from her face. “Your name, my shadow.”

“E-Ethel.” Her watcher’s breath shuddered.

“Hello, Ettie.” Rose smiled, soft and sweet. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

#Rose #Ethel #Lukas #Grace #Marcus #creatober #gtpatcreatober

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roleplcyheaux · 4 years ago

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Your name and pronouns:

asha! she/her pronouns!

Your favorite movie / tv show at the moment:

i did recently binge I May Destroy You and it was *chef’s kiss*. i’ve also been re-watching Girlfriends on Netflix too because Tracee Ellis Ross is truly worth it! if you haven’t watched it before i def recommend it though....yanno it’s an late 90′s-early aughts show so some of the jokes haven't aged well. last but not least i’ve been watching this K-Drama called Flower of Evil too and oh my gooooosh i couldn’t rec it more!!!! the plot basically centers around this couple where wife is a successful detective and the husband???? well he is the “missing” son of a serial killer ( daddy dearest killed like 10 people i think??) whose accused of not falling far from the tree himself ( when he was senior in hs he disappeared from his small town right after the sheriff was mysteriously murdered hmmmm ). but of course the wife doesn’t know that and now there is a copy-cat killer running around risking the husband’s new life AND IT’S WILD AND SO GOOD!!! also they have a daughter who is literally too pure and too cute for this earth!

Why are you interested in joining the roleplay?

i’m a sucker for the horror / mystery genre!!!!! which....if you know me you’d know is odd cause i’m highkey a scardy cat but like horror movies are completely different than books and rps okay?!?! okay! this place also seems so thoroughly thought out and i can tell how much love and thought went into this and i would love nothing more than to help frankie bring it to life!!! i’m not in any rps right now ( well one discord based one ) and i’d love to hop back in now that life has mellowed out!

Tell us a little about the character you’re thinking of applying for:

much like many of the fine people below me, i’m kinda stuck between two muses?!?! but i’m sure i’ll make my decision soon or idk maybe i can cop out and you guys can tell me who you’d prefer to see??

abigail ‘abby’ alby, twenty-six, aspiring novelist / manager @ spotlight cinema. the youngest of george alby’s grandchildren, abigail came into the world with a silver spoon hanging from her infant lips. she’s never needed for anything and essentially grew up coddled and protected from the world around her. very gullible & naive. glides through life in rose-tinted glasses. can and probably will cry at the drop of hat. is still waiting for harry styles to accept her marriage proposal tbh. known as a cursed hopeless romantic around town. leave a guy at the alter once and suddenly no one wants to date you :( :( :( [ definitely inspired by the only lovers left alive open plot! ]

isobel ‘issy’ bishop, twenty-five, dispatcher at pleasance fd. issy was left on the sidewalk in front of the fire station at three days old. no one knows where she came from or who her parents could possibly be. rather than following protocol and calling child services, the fire chief at the time allowed one of his firefighters to take the bundle of joy home. growing up with the bishops was chaotic to say the least but in the best way possible? issy grew up with seven siblings in total and four family pets. you could say her adoptive parents had a hard time NOT taking in those in need. most of her siblings have gotten out of pleasance but isobel’s curiosity keeps her within town limits. [ mayhaps issy could be involved in the mystery gang! but also i wouldn’t put it past her to work solo either so! ]

Do you have any potential wanted connections?

um um um if i decide to bring in abby i’d love some more albys lurking around for her to bug?? mayhaps her ex-fiancee that she left at the alter ( she definitely ghosted after the fact and still hasn’t really given him an explanation)??? i’d love her to have childhood friends who she’s remained close to!! or people who hate her family, i mean family feuds are fun! if i bring in isobel i’d definitely love to see her eccentric parents! and a couple of her siblings too! most of them left but i’m sure there are still a couple around for one reason or another! the bishops are a very mismatch family of misfits who dance to the beat of their own drum so and issy loves them all dearly even if they embarrass her/give her headaches sometimes!

Any self-promos?:

idk i don’t have anything to promo really?!?!!? but if you’re reading this ily and i hope you’re having a good day!

#phqtalk

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sentient-stove · 5 years ago

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more, more, more, more, you get the drift by now

Hellhound au!

I buckled down and put my fic first and finished the chapter I was working on! Yay me!

Chapter six- Phone Call

Ladybug jumped from building to building, carefully navigating to her family’s bakery as she tracked over the city that she called home.

She was on the phone-- yo-yo -- while running and it wasn’t exactly the best plan as she tripped, muttering curses as she skid to a stop.

“Girl, you good?” Alya’s voice came from the other side and Ladybug sighed.

“Don’t run and call people. It’s never a good idea.” She laughed as she sat on the edge of the roof, legs swinging as she continued to talk.

“I wish I didn’t have a hangover.” Alya groaned from the other end. “Marinette, where did you go after we talked? I spent ages looking for you!”

“I had some work.” Ladybug pulled an apple from her pocket and took a bite, lips puckering at the sourness.

“Really? Nino told me that you ran after Adrien.”

“What? NO! We just used the same exit, I totally didn’t see him.” She blushed, despite her friend not being there.

“Oh come on, you’d totally tell me if you did.”

“Definitely wouldn’t.” Ladybug finished her apple and tossed the core down, bouncing off a car roof and into a garbage can way down in the street below.

“If you ever kiss Adrien Agreste, you will tell me.”

Ladybug sighed and relented, quickly finishing her call with Alya and standing, jumping down into the alley.

“Spots off.” Marinette shook her head, pigtails bobbing as she caught Tikki and slipped her a cookie before hiding her in the coin bag by her side.

It was ironic, she was able to control her transformation, had kick ass abilities and tech that came with the job, a reputation that exceeded her name and loving parents. Meanwhile, Adrien got stuck with a kwami that was borderline abusive, a father that was borderline neglectful, abilities that made it painful for him to function as a human and to top it off, he smelled like cheese unless he drowned himself in sage and lavender.

She walked quickly to the locale’s police force and entered the building, stepping around a passed out man in the front office and making her way to the front desk.

“Hey, can I access the annex?”

“Are you in the police force, an intern, or a Hunter/Huntress? We don’t allow kids in the files.

“I have a licence.” Marinette slid the silver card across the desk, watching it get scanned and handed back to her.

“I think that they’re letting kids do the dirty work. It’s going to get someone killed.”

“That’s why I’m here actually.” Marinette tucked her card away and walked slowly to the annex, fiddling with her phone and the spare key that had been given to her so she could get it.

The annex was dusty, full of boxes and boxes of records that stretched back over hundreds of years, from when the catacombs were first built until now. Marinette grabbed the nearest box and sat on it, quietly pulling out her yo-yo and slamming the bottom against her palm.

The yo-yo opened and expanded out to her polka dotted laptop, a few pages still open to the news reports from last night.

“Okay, where would I find the reports for Emilie’s disappearance?” She muttered as she started to go through the box next to her.

“This is from thirty years ago, is there any organization here?”

“I could help?” Tikki stuck her head from out of Marinette’s coat pocket, before flying out the rest of the way. “I can just phase through boxes until I find the one with her stuff in it.”

“Tikki, we don’t even know if Emilie was a Chein d’enfer. But if she’s not, Adrien’s might be and that’s a whole box of worms I don’t want to open right now.”

“Isn’t the phrase can of worms?”

Marinette sneezed and a plumage of dust floated up, making her cough even more. “Fine, but be quiet, you know that I can’t stand the dust.”

Tikki squealed happily and zoomed off, on her own personal search for a mysterious box in the dust. Marinette stayed where she was, digging through old and obscure deaths that had never been cataloged, Cheins that had been killed in turf wars and serial killers that hunted minorities.

She pulled a book out of the box and dusted the cover off, trying to read what the cracked leather said.

“Tikki? Have you found anything?”

“No, have you Marinette?”

“I think so? But even if I didn’t, we have to go soon, the bakery is about to hit the five o’clock rush, so Mama and Papa will need me.” Marinette slid the book into her backpack before standing and dusting off her pants.

Tikki soared from her hiding spot and landed back in Marinette’s pocket, before curling up and closing her eyes. “Back home.”

“Back home.” Marinette agreed wearily.

#hellhound au #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #tikki #adrien agreste #plagg #miraculous fanfic #miraculous au #ladybug #alya cesaire #chapter six

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andersunmenschlich · 5 years ago

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Episode 9: A Father's Love

Tonight's episode is the statement of Julia Montauk.

...Montauk?

Well. Um. In any case, it seems this Julia's father was a serial killer who died in prison seven years into a life sentence. Apparently he used a shed for something murder-related?

When I think of sheds, I typically think of either storage or projects—rebuilding engines, tanning hides, constructing birdhouses... you know, that sort of thing. I suppose murder could be considered a project, but is it really the kind of project you'd usually do in a shed? I'd like something a bit more easily cleanable myself.

She says his killings were meant to fuel the magic of a cult.

Now, that's interesting.

What sort of magic, I wonder? Hmm. I guess that depends on the sort of cult. And was it fueled by the deaths themselves, or were those incidental? If, for instance, you had a victim with a healing factor, would it still work?

Moving on.... At least 40 people in five years! That's eight a year, how did he not get caught almost immediately? I'm impressed.

Julia Montauk says she had no idea whatsoever that her father was a murderer, and also that she's sure something other than the murdering was going on. Given that this is a Magnus Archives episode, I'm thinking she's absolutely right about that last bit.

So she tells us about her childhood.

Apparently the murder shed came with the house she still lives in, but they didn't use it at all until after the night her mother disappeared.

That night, she was having a hard time sleeping on account of having watched The Witches. I didn't know that was a film! I've read the book by Roald Dahl (though I don't own it), but I'd never heard that it was adapted for the screen. I don't remember a character named Luke, but it has been a while. Huh. Somehow I have the strange impression that the main character's name was "Boy," though that doesn't seem at all likely. Oh well: Julia Montauk.

She's lying awake in bed when there's a thump downstairs.

And then there's another thump.

She doesn't have a clock in her bedroom, so she doesn't know what time it is, but it's dark outside so whatever time it is it's clearly the middle of the night. Like every rational child who can't sleep because they're frightened and then hears an unusual noise, she decides to get out of bed and go see what it is.

...Julia Montauk is a little bit too much like me here. Does she want to get attacked by a burglar?

Anyway, she sneaks downstairs and sees that the kitchen light is on.

The kitchen is empty, the back door is open, and her mother's necklace is lying on the table. Her mother's necklace is interesting. It sounds like it has a silver Hand of Fatima as a pendant—only the eye is closed.

I own a lot of necklaces. I never wear them. That would be impractical. I don't even wear ties, and for the same reason: it strikes me as a very bad idea to carry your own personal noose around your neck. But despite this, well... I like necklaces. I don't like wearing them. But I collect them all the same, because I think they're cool. I have a large, black, beaded spider on a green, beaded chain. I have the claw of a dragon clutching a crystal ball. I have a real, functioning hourglass. I have a sword with something red and shiny set in the pommel. I have the head of a goat inside a pentagram, and a great many crosses.

I don't have a Hand of Fatima. Even so, I'm familiar with what that sort of pendant looks like, and in my experience the eye is never closed. Ever.

What this says about the cult Julia's mom is clearly a part of, I don't quite know.

But... well... if I'd ever run across a pendant like that one, where the eye in the palm of the hand was closed, I think I'd've been tempted to get it. The idea of an amulet against the evil eye in which the eye is open never made much sense to me....

Julia Montauk takes the necklace upstairs to return it to her mother, clearly not quite grasping that closing the back door is the important thing here.

Her mother isn't in bed.

She wakes up her father and asks him where her mother went.

He sees the necklace, hops out of bed, and starts getting dressed right away. This tells me that Mrs. Montauk must not have taken that thing off very often: he sees it off her neck and knows right away that something's wrong. Interesting. Hmm. Julia doesn't say whether he wears one or not. That strikes me as a rather important detail to skip over!

He asks her where she found the necklace, she tells him, and they both go to the kitchen where, for some reason, he decides to run the tap instead of closing the back door.

This family.

Oh, and the water coming out of the tap is bad.

So he was running some sort of test, then. And since he knew exactly what to look for... and the cult does magic... hmm. They don't summon a demon or something, do they? And its presence has some kind of effect on domestic water?

Then the kitchen light bulb blows out, which seems dangerous to me, all those slender little slivers of glass.

Clearly things are not going well for the Montauk family.

Mr. Montauk tells his daughter that everything's fine and sends her back to bed. She doesn't believe him, and I somehow suspect it didn't take his shaking hands to tell her that! But she goes to bed, because that's what you do when a parent tells you to go to bed, and she lies there until it starts to get light outside, at which point she falls asleep. Her father (having headed off with her mother's necklace) hasn't yet returned.

When she wakes up (too late to go to school, as might have been expected), he's still not back. So she just sits in the living room and waits for him, which I think is understandable.

He's gone practically all day, and when he finally returns he's pale and goes straight to the liquor cabinet, which seems to suggest that he wasn't out drinking all this time, because wouldn't he have brought back a bottle or something in that case?

He pours himself a glass of Scotch, sits down on the couch next to his daughter, and tells her that her mother is gone.

She understands the unspoken "forever" and starts crying.

Oh, Robert Montauk was a police officer! But he didn't go to the police for help finding his missing wife, which suggests to me that he knew where she was (more or less) and also probably that it was a bit out of local law enforcement's remit. By, I'm guessing, at least a couple of dimensions.

Julia Montauk says her mother used to have a lot of friends over, but somehow no one seemed to notice that she'd vanished.

Okay. Those were cult friends, weren't they? And they, like Julia's dad, know what vanished her mom and so aren't going to kick up any kind of big legal fuss because what would be the point... and also possibly because they're the ones who vanished her.

Of course everyone assumes the serial killer killed his wife.

That makes sense.

Meanwhile, the serial killer in question seems to be getting ready to embark upon his murderous career, because it's only now that he starts fixing up the shed, sticking power tools in it and a sturdy lock on the door, and telling his daughter that he's doing woodworking... but mostly it's quiet in there so whatever he's using it isn't power tools, and he only turns up little wooden things every once in a while. Also there's a kind of meaty smell, which strikes me as indicative of knife use: that's quiet, but using a knife won't stop whatever you're working on from making smells.

...Or screams, usually, so are the victims gagged? Drugged? Already dead?

Anyway, Julia Montauk's father spends hours in that shed during the day, and then he's gone most nights, too. But she doesn't worry about that, because she figures he's out on police business.

One night he comes into her room, thinking she's asleep, and quietly promises her—or himself, I guess—that he'll protect her: that he won't let "it" get her, too. He's crying, and his hands smell like blood and dirty water when he touches her face. Which doesn't seem sanitary to me, but I suppose he was too wrapped up in emotion to think about cleanliness.

So... is he feeding victims to this stagnant water demon?

He's wearing light gray overalls stained with something like tar, which sounds like a demony kind of thing to me.

He's also beat up a lot. "There was rarely a time when he didn't have some sort of plaster, bandage, or bruise visible," she says. She gets used to seeing blood around, and just assumes whenever she finds some it's his. And he starts staying home during the day.

He tells her this is because he's been permanently assigned night shift, but actually he resigned.

Makes sense—he's got a new job now, right?

And apparently the cult is paying him, because they've always got enough money. He stays home during the day, spends time with his daughter, only goes into the shed at night... sounds like a pretty good deal all around, honestly!

...Well, except for the victims, obviously.

There's one day he uses the shed during daylight hours, and it's the day Julia answers the phone and discovers that a "Detective Rayner" wants to speak to her father.

Wait.

Rayner? That name sounds familiar, hang on.

Joseph Rayner! That was the name on the dog tags found with Wilfred Owen's body in episode seven! Jonathan Sims said the name sounded familiar, too. Hmm. Well, I was -67 when Clarence Barry's statement was given, and when this statement was given I was 23, so that's quite a lot of time (almost a hundred years). Maybe it's a descendant or something.

"Detective" Rayner has an accent of some kind, and young Julia Montauk thinks it's German—but then she thinks a lot of accents are German at this point in her life, so who knows.

When her father hears that someone named Rayner is calling for him, he goes pale.

He takes the phone and puts it to his ear and just listens, and after a bit he turns to his daughter and tells her to leave the kitchen because this is a grown-up conversation (not much of a conversation with just one person talking, if you ask me)—and she does, but as she leaves, the light bulb at the top of the stairs blows out.

Sounds like a certain demony something is out and about.

Oh, and apparently it's out and about pretty often, because she says the bulbs in that house broke a lot (I note she's using the past tense, so could it be that they don't anymore?) and she was used to changing them.

So she turns around and goes back down the stairs to get a fresh bulb, at which point she hears her father's half of the conversation from the kitchen.

He sounds angry.

He says, "No. Not already. Do it yourself."

It sounds to me as though whatever it is he's feeding, it's hungry again. Maybe it's a demon. Maybe the cult's used up a bunch of magical power and needs more. Whatever the case, Rayner says something on the other end of the line and, after a while of silence, Montauk agrees to do "it" as soon as possible. He hangs up, gets himself some alcohol, and spends the rest of the day in the shed.

So, since he didn't go anywhere... was he keeping a victim out there? Or does the ritual require something he can provide himself, like blood or pain? Or maybe it just needs a body, but then I'd think he'd have to set up some kind of refrigeration out there....

Apparently what was left of the bodies didn't allow for much in the way of identification.

That suggests eating to me.

I'm going to go with the "demon" hypothesis, and say that this cult of the closed palm-eye summoned something that does their bidding but needs regular feeding.

Something that apparently doesn't like light and prefers water to be brackish?

I can understand the first part, personally, but the second bit doesn't suit me at all. I like my water clean and fresh, thanks! I don't think I could handle having something like that around, even if it did keep things nice and dark around me—dealing with stinky water on the regular is not my idea of a good time.

Ah, and Robert Montauk takes pictures. On film! I remember film cameras. My favorite thing to do was not advance the film and take a double exposure.

Apparently he takes quite a lot of pictures, but he doesn't want anyone else seeing them and, since he can't develop them, the canisters of used film just sort of stack up around the house. So Julia suggests a darkroom.

This seems like a fairly obvious suggestion, but apparently her dad hadn't thought of it.

He sets up a darkroom in the guest bedroom and (obviously) keeps it locked. Except for sometimes when he'll let her in and the pair of them will develop innocent, normal photos (photos she took), which sounds like a fun parent-child activity, doesn't it? Julia Montauk is ten or eleven at this point which, going off my own memories, seems about the right age for a first camera.

She says her father "seemed almost happy those last couple of years."

...I wonder why.

Hmm. My first thought is that he's trying to take pictures of the demon or whatever it is, but I can't see how that would make him happy—unless the "demon" is actually his wife?

Ooh, and then one day he leaves the key in the lock and Julia, curious, goes inside.

She says there were no developed photos in there, and she doesn't know where he put any of his pictures once they were ready, which is interesting. Was he hiding them somewhere? Giving them to someone? ...Not eating them, hopefully. We had quite enough of that with the notebooks in episode three.

Anyway, there are no fully developed pictures, but there are about twelve not-entirely-finished photos hung up to dry.

And they're of corpses.

Corpses with symbols inked onto their faces, which reminds me of the book-woman from episode four, uh... Mary Keay. Now, why would he be taking pictures of that? Especially since at first he didn't even have the ability to develop them?

Plus, it's weird that he left the key in the lock.

Julia Montauk says she sometimes wonders whether he did it on purpose. I don't know why he'd do that, either. Oh, and apparently none of the people were victims the police knew about, which tells me that there were definitely more than just eight victims a year! ...And also suggests that he might've been taking out other cultists? Because we know that the police weren't contacted when his wife died, don't we. But you'd think the cult would notice and object! Unless, I suppose, they were volunteering....

She keeps quiet for a few weeks, then confesses to her father that she went in the darkroom and saw his weird corpse pictures.

He hugs her and asks her not to hate him.

Then he says it'll be over soon and leaves, telling her to stay in her room until he gets back.

Julia Montauk strikes me as a very obedient child. She goes to her room, lies in bed, stares out the window at the street, and at 2:47 am when she goes downstairs to get a drink of water she discovers that the water from the tap is thick, muddy, brown, and brackish.

See, that's the sort of thing I would just find too inconvenient to live with.

Instead of going back to her room, though, she goes to the living room window and tries to see if she can spot her father coming back.

She can't.

What she sees are the lights going out.

One at a time, the streetlamps fail. The lights in whatever houses still have lights on go dark. It's a moonless night, and the darkness is moving towards her house, slow and steady—and then the lights in her house go out, too.

So far so strange, but not really worrisome. If I saw that happening on my street, I'd probably be pleased. I'd especially like to see those new LED streetlights go out! Those things are hideously painful. Really, what is the point of having a tiny supernova on each and every street corner except to torture people like me, who already can't go out during the day, thank you very much? You have the entire day, you horrible people. So you need special accommodations for night time, fine, but if those accommodations are going to disable me why don't you just keep them to yourself? The day is yours already—at least leave me the night!

But then there's a knock on the door, which turns into pounding, and this is much less pleasant.

Panicking, young Julia Montauk calls the police.

She just manages to tell them where she is when the front door gives way... and this is interesting, because it seems to me that the front window would've been much easier to break and come in through, wouldn't it?

Well, perhaps the thing can't climb. It can growl, though.

She drops the phone and runs through the house out into the backyard, where she discovers that the shed is glowing "a dull, pulsing blue."

Sounds pretty. Anyway, it's not locked—so she pulls the door open and there's her father, apparently in the middle of some sort of sourceless blue spotlight, kneeling in the center of a fancy chalk circle drawn on the wooden floor, apparently playing at being an Aztec. He's got a dead man in front of him (a dead man wearing a Hand of Fatima necklace with a closed eye in the palm), a knife that was evidently used to open the dead man's chest in one hand, and the man's beating heart in the other.

He's also chanting.

The chant seems to be what's keeping the heart beating, and it also seems to have something to do with the blue glow: they're all pulsing in time.

The walls of the shed, meanwhile, are lined with shelves, and the shelves are full of glass jars, and each glass jar holds a single human heart, preserved in formaldehyde... and also beating to that same rhythm.

Geez louise, that's really pretty.

Meanwhile, the growling whatever-it-is has caught up to her. She can feel it behind her.

But just at that moment her father reaches the right point in the chant to stab the heart, and once he does everything stops and the thing behind her disappears.

She realizes she can hear police sirens.

Her father tells her he's sorry, and then he runs.

Evidently he got caught, put on trial, convicted, thrown in prison, and died seven years later, but all this is kind of skipped over because (so Julia Montauk says) everybody already knows that part. I don't! I'd like to know whether the cult was hunting him as well as the police, and what moves he took to avoid them both, and whether he decided he couldn't avoid being caught and let the police do it instead of the cultists, and....

Well, there are a lot of things I'd like to know, but I suppose they aren't really important to this story. Oh well.

Jonathan Sims says the dead cultist was named Christopher Lorne.

He also says that the 40 hearts found in the shed were arranged very precisely: a pattern of 11 on each wall except the one with the door, which had a pattern of 7. That's very tidy, and I approve. Oh, and that's all of the bodies that was ever found.

Well, that would make identification difficult!

According to Mr. Sims, the symbol on those interesting pendants belongs to the People's Church of the Divine Host.

He says it's "a small cult that grew around the defrocked Pentacostal minister Maxwell Rayner in London during the late '80s and early '90s," and that's where he recognized the name Rayner from. He also calls episode seven "statement 1106922." So the statements are already numbered? Or is this a designation he assigned to help make order out of chaos? Hmm. Well, that statement was given 11-6-1922... but only the last three digits of the year? If you're going to do it that way, you should put every digit in!

[sigh]

Anyway, Christopher Lorne was definitely a cultist. Apparently he had a family, but they hadn't heard from him in six years (which is probably how long he was in the cult). Maxwell Rayner vanished from public view when I was five, and the group fragmented, so this group....

Let's see, seven years before 2002 would make it 1995, when I was six. So this group would be one of the fragments? Seems right.

The house with the murder shed in the backyard is still being lived in today (whenever today is), but the new owners pulled down the shed and stuck a patio in its place, which to me suggests either a really large patio or a shed that's ridiculously close to the house, but this might just be because I've only ever seen patios that share a side with the house.

Ooh, and Robert Montauk's death sounds suspiciously supernatural.

Stabbed 47 times while alone in his cell? With the light bulb blown out? Dear me, that... that's very interesting.

You don't suppose he killed forty-seven cult members, do you? Maybe it was less a matter of feeding a demon and more a matter of helping people become a demon.... That doesn't explain his wife, though.

I don't know. Whatever the case, there's a lot of detail here, and I like it. This was a very good story!

And now back to packing....

#The Magnus Archives #episode 9 #commentary #late to the party

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notarelationship · 5 years ago

Text

In A Minute - Ch 4

Klaine Fic - In A Minute

Summary: AU. Kurt’s a bit clumsy, and Blaine needs a boyfriend in a hurry. What more do you want? Words: ~3600 Chapters: 4/? Warnings: none

AO3: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

I am so, so sorry about the delay in posting! My summer just got away from me. I'm hoping to finish this up soon so the wait for the rest shouldn't be too long!

Thanks to @honeysucklepink for the beta! I claim all errors as my own.

“We can send up a fold out cot if you like,” the very-eager-to-help hotel employee on the other end of the line said.

Blaine considered it. He could sleep on the cot and Kurt could have the bed to himself.

“I’m sorry Mr. Anderson, we called a -” Blaine heard fingers clacking on a keyboard at the other end of the line. “A Pam Anderson - when we swapped the rooms. She said it would be alright and that you really only needed the one.”

“It’s - not all - I mean,” Blaine turned around when Kurt stepped back into the room. Kurt smiled and went to unpack his clothes into the wardrobe, carefully smoothing each item as he hung it. ‘Ask them to send up a steamer, I forgot mine,‘ Kurt whispered. If Blaine’s mother knew what the configuration of his hotel room was, he couldn’t tell the front desk that they weren’t together. What if it got back to her? “No, it’s fine. Thanks.” Kurt turned to look at him expectantly. “Oh, and can you send up a steamer iron? Thank you.”

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked, when Blaine hung up the phone.

Blaine sighed and shrugged. “Well, they don’t have another room. But they did offer to send up a cot if I wanted.” He was worried about his mother finding out, but if it would make Kurt more comfortable then he’d do it. He’d worry about what to tell her when she found out. Which she would.

Kurt rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, stretching out on one side. “Blaine. Lie down on the bed.” Kurt waved a hand and then patted the empty half of the mattress. “Please.”

Blaine hesitated, but Kurt made an insistent gesture, so he did as he was instructed. There was a lot of room between him and Kurt, which Kurt waved his arm across like he was making half a snow angel.

“See? You could put an entire third person in here with us - not that I’m suggesting that. Or two large dogs.” Kurt turned to his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Look, Blaine. I know you’re just trying to make sure I’m comfortable with this whole - situation, but I promise it’s fine. I’m pretty sure you’re not a serial killer, and you’ve been nothing but a gentleman.”

Blaine buried his face in a pillow and moaned. “I can’t believe I dragged you into this,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Blaine.”

“Mmffmm.”

“Blaine look at me.”

Blaine took a deep breath and pushed himself up off of the mattress until he was sitting upright, facing Kurt. Kurt rolled his eyes and sat up.

“For the last time. You asked me and I said yes. And - I am very into this whole winery weekend thing, so stop feeling guilty about it for my sake.” Kurt paused for just a moment. “You’re on your own with your parents.”

“Okay.” Blaine laughed and closed his eyes, and because he was generally grateful for how cool Kurt was being about everything, including how nervous Blaine was acting, he added, “Thank you.”

“You may not thank me after I run up the champagne tab in the spa,” Kurt said, then he jumped off the bed, startling Blaine. “Now, I would really love to shower and get cleaned up. I smell like a commuter train. And I’m starving. What time is it? Do you think we can get some food anywhere?”

“Oh, uh almost 1:30, I think?” Blaine hopped off the bed and picked up a card that was set out on the desk that had the schedule of wedding sponsored weekend activities printed on it. “And there is a buffet lunch set out until three. I should probably head down and say hello to my family, do you want to come down when you’re ready?”

“That sounds great. I won’t be long, I really am hungry.”

Blaine waited while Kurt grabbed some things from his bag and then shut himself in the bathroom. Once he could hear water running, Blaine changed into fresh clothes, and made his way downstairs.

“Blaine! Sweetheart!” Blaine tried not to flinch as his mother flung an arm around him in an excessively demonstrative hug. “If I didn’t know better I’d have thought you were avoiding us!” Blaine speculated that it was likely that she’d had a few afternoon cocktails already.

“Hi Mom,” he said, returning her hug more sedately and kissing her on the cheek. “Of course not. We only arrived about 40 minutes ago. I came down as quickly as I could.”

His mother hummed noncommittally, looking behind Blaine as if he were hiding someone. “Where’s Kurt? I thought he was coming with you?”

“He wanted to freshen up after the ride here. He’ll be down shortly.”

“Oh, good,” she said, although it sounded more perfunctory than actually interested.

“I’ll make sure I bring him over to say hello,” Blaine said, as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Delightful,” she answered, and then she was off to mingle with the other guests. Blaine wondered idly where his dad was.

Blaine glanced around the patio where the lunch had been set up. There were tables and chairs spanning the indoor/outdoor space, and opposite that the several buffet tables set up along the inside wall. It gave off the feeling of wanting to be casual, but Blaine knew better; there was nothing casual about this crowd. He was surprised that there weren’t tuxedoed wait staff serving hors d’oeuvres on silver trays.

There were about fifty people milling around, and while Blaine recognized some of them, more of them were strangers. He wondered how many people had actually been invited to the wedding.

“Hey, I’d know those boyish good looks anywhere.” Blaine didn’t recognize the voice, so he didn’t realize the owner of it was speaking to him. At least not right away. “I had no idea they’d belong to an ass that wouldn’t quit.”

Blaine choked and looked around to see who on earth would be that forward with a total stranger at someone’s wedding.

A guy Blaine would have described as smarmy held out his hand. Blaine shook it. “I’ve heard a lot about you Blaine Anderson.”

“Um, who are you?”

“Oh, I thought for sure you’d recognize me from the snaps I sent you the other day. Sebastian Smythe.”

Blaine’s manners kicked, sort of, while he mentally rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, but the one with your face must not have come through.” Blaine looked around, hoping to see Kurt walking in, but there was no sign of him.

“Blaine honey!” His mother reappeared. “I see you’ve met Sebastian!”

Blaine grimaced. She was about to keep going, no doubt singing Sebastian’s praises, when Blaine’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Excuse me one sec,” he said, hoping it was Kurt. Fishing his phone out, he turned away so he could check the message, and his mother carried on talking to Sebastian.

What are you wearing?

It was from Kurt, and Blaine tried not to notice the warm feeling that licked up his spine at that question. Even though he knew there wasn’t really anything behind it.

Excuse me?

I need to know what you’re wearing so I can match - casual? Formal? I didn’t see you before you left.

Oh. Okay. That made sense. Blaine had dressed in a pair of navy shorts and a white polo, but had picked one of his favorite peach colored bow ties with schnauzers on them for some personality.

Navy shorts and a white polo. Bow tie. He texted Kurt.

How preppy. send me a picture?

Blaine could feel his face color, and looked around as if someone were peeking at his incoming texts. Not that it was scandalous at all, he was just being weird.

OK hang on. Blaine found a men’s room, thankfully empty, and took a photo of himself in the lounge mirror. He held his breath when he hit send.

He didn’t have to wait long. Great. I’ll be down in less than ten!

Blaine wandered back over to the buffet gathering, avoiding where his mother was still talking to Sebastian, wondering if ten minutes actually meant ten minutes. Was Kurt a punctual person or did he have a tendency to be late while getting ready for a party? Blaine tried to remind himself that he really didn’t know Kurt that well; they weren’t actually friends.

He needn’t have worried. He was still contemplating this thought, staring at the buffet tables, when he felt the pressure of a light hand on his back.

“Hi.” Kurt leaned very close, and Blaine couldn’t help but lean slightly in to meet him. Whether it was Kurt himself or simply the pull of another person this close to him he didn’t know. Kurt’s lips grazed Blaine’s ear, and he whispered, “I’m going to kiss you on the cheek - I didn’t want to startle you.”

“Oh, okay.” Blaine barely had time to process the thought, tipping his face just enough to accept the offering. He hoped Kurt didn’t notice how warm his cheeks felt.

Was this the first time Kurt had kissed him? He had a vague panic that there might be more kissing, followed by more panic that he was thinking about it. Had they talked about wedding PDA?

“You look very cute, by the way,” Kurt said, and Blaine turned to get a look at Kurt because if they were going to talk he didn’t want to be staring somewhere else. “I wasn’t sure how to dress for this, so I packed a few options.” Kurt fiddled with a neckerchief tied neatly at his throat. It was the first indication Blaine had that Kurt might be nervous about this too.

He didn’t have any reason to be. Blaine took in Kurt’s outfit, and had to resist ogling like a creep. His shorts were slim cut, a few inches longer than Blaine’s, hugging his thighs in a way that somehow made his legs look longer. His shirt was a madras pattern, only instead of the bright colors popular with the New England upper crust prep style everyone else was wearing (and that Blaine had plenty of examples of in his own closet), his was tones of brown with gold flecks. Two of the buttons were undone, exposing just enough skin for Blaine to -

Not your boyfriend not your boyfriend not your boyfriend

“You look perfect,” Blaine managed to say.

“Kurt!” Blaine started when he heard his mother call from halfway across the room. He bit back a smirk and shook his head as Pam enthusiastically hugged Kurt, and Kurt accepted the greeting like they were long lost cousins. “Blaine said you were running late, I’m so glad you could make it down to meet everyone.”

Kurt laughed politely. “Well I did just get here, so I haven’t had a chance to meet anyone yet.” Kurt linked his arm with Pam’s, as Blaine watched, dazzled by the ease with which Kurt handled his mother. “Maybe you should show me off to some of the guests? And I’m starving, maybe you could lead me in the direction of a sandwich?” Kurt looked at Blaine, an eyebrow raised as if asking permission. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not. But make sure you remember everyone’s name so you can tell me who they are later,” Blaine teased, even winking as Kurt walked off with his mother, and Blaine wondered once again what he’d gotten himself into.

Before he could explore that thought again, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Alone, finally.” Blaine turned to see Sebastian leaning much too close to him, although he had moved his hand away. “I thought he’d never leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boyfriend.”

Blaine was confused. He was sure Kurt hadn’t been there ten minutes before his mother swooped in and whisked him away. “Kurt? He just got here.”

“Still.” Sebastian leered a little and Blaine was uncomfortable all over again. “We can hardly get to know each other if he’s monopolizing your time.”

Blaine didn’t really want to cause a scene at his cousin’s wedding, but he needed to put a stop to - whatever this was.

“Look, Sebastian, I’m flattered, really.” He wasn’t, but he could pretend, right? He was even getting good at it. “But when my mother suggested we meet she didn’t realize that I had a serious boyfriend. I’m not really interested in dating or meeting anyone right now.” That was polite enough, Blaine hoped Sebastian wouldn’t be too offended.

Sebastian snickered, not seeming put off at all. “I’m not really interested in dating either, Blaine. I just thought we could have a little fun this weekend.” Sebastian nodded in Kurt’s direction, dropped his voice, almost but not quite whispering into Blaine’s ear, “He doesn’t really look like he can keep someone as hot as you satisfied.”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Well, I’m in room 269. I’ll leave a key at the front desk if your boyfriend can’t keep up his end this weekend.”

“Oh my god. No, I don’t - I don’t think so.” He put up a hand in between himself and Sebastian. “You should, back off, I think.” Blaine glanced over to where Kurt was waving around a small plate of food, and he and his mother were entertaining a small group of women who Blaine thought were possibly great aunts, or second cousins. He looked like he’d be busy at least for a few minutes, so Blaine walked out of the room.

The rest of the hotel was mercifully quiet, and he found a sliding door that led to a narrow balcony. Cool ocean air hit him and Blaine shivered. At first he didn’t see anyone outside, but when he turned to walk to the far end of the balcony, just to gather himself before he went back to the party, he spied his father, leaning over the railing, smoking a cigarette.

“I thought you quit,” Blaine said.

Stewart startled, then relaxed when he saw it was Blaine who had interrupted him. “I mostly have.” He took a long drag on what was left and tossed it into the sand below the balcony. “Your mother is in rare form already.”

Blaine snorted, then caught himself when his father raised an eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I know she has her moments. Want to talk about it?”

Blaine shook his head, staring out at the ocean view. It was beautiful. “Maybe. Do you have any idea why she’s trying to fix me up with that guy - Sebastian?”

Stewart grimaced. “The Smythe boy? I thought she’d given up on that.”

“You know him?”

“Not really. His parents are on about a half dozen planning committees at the club, I think your mother is trying to get in good with them.”

“She’s trying to pimp me out to their son so she can decorate the country club Christmas party?” Blaine’s jaw dropped as he stared at his father.

Stewart shrugged, then leaned on the railing, joining Blaine in his observation of the ocean.

“I have no idea what on earth would make her think I would be interested in that guy. He’s,” Blaine shuddered, “really not my type.”

“His parents are lovely people, but you know how your mother can get bored. And when she gets bored she gets caught up in what passes for southwestern Ohio high society.” Blaine nodded. She did enjoy her status-play. “I thought she’d stop after we met Kurt - I like him, by the way. I think your mother does too.”

Blaine sighed and bit his lip. He wanted to tell his dad about how his mother had obviously maneuvered Kurt so Sebastian could get him alone. He didn’t.

“Dad? I have to tell you something.” Blaine laced his fingers together, looking back out toward the ocean. “And I just - I’m sorry, in advance. For lying to you.”

Stewart stood and looked at Blaine. “Blaine are you in trouble? Did something happen at school - did you fail a class?”

“No, no, nothing like that Dad.” Blaine chuckled. God he could only imagine what would happen if he failed a class. That would be much worse than lying. “I - Kurt’s, um, not really my boyfriend.”

“Blaine?” Stewart leaned on the railing. “I don’t understand? Why would you tell us he was if he wasn’t?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I,” Blaine cleared his throat. “I got tired of Mom asking about my love life, and trying to fix me up with this guy I’d never met from Ohio.” His dad nodded, so Blaine went on. “So when you guys came for dinner I asked him to just come out with us. I thought it would get her to leave me alone, you know? I’m so busy all the time, and dating is not easy in New York, apparently, and I just, I wanted her to lay off for a while. But I didn’t want to be rude about it.”

“I do appreciate you not wanting to be rude to your mother Blaine, but there was really no need to lie to us about this. You could have just told her you weren’t interested.”

“Don’t you think I tried that?” Blaine grumbled. “She can be pretty persistent.” Blaine was relieved that his father didn’t seem to be mad, or even disappointed to the point that Blaine’s guilt over the entire thing would get worse. But still, he felt like he should make some amends for it. “I’ll pay for all of Kurt’s extra costs this weekend, I promise. I told him he could use the spa and whatever hotel amenities there were to get him to come with me - and I’ll make sure I pay for all of it okay? I don’t want this to cost you anything, I just wanted to,” Blaine paused. “I just needed a break.”

Stewart was silent for a few stretched out minutes, and Blaine knew his father well enough to know he was weighing everything Blaine had just told him. “I think you should not tell your mother about this for now, if that’s alright with you - I’d like to avoid starting any drama at your cousin’s wedding, if that’s even possible. And we can worry about who pays for what later, and what to tell your mother.”

Blaine nodded. “Very alright. I’d like to never tell her, if possible.” Blaine sighed. “Thanks Dad.”

“For what?”

“For being understanding? I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Stewart hmmed, but didn’t say anything more about it. “How about we head back. The lunch is probably over by now and I should pretend I spent the afternoon mingling.”

Blaine just laughed, relieved, and followed his dad back to the party.

“What time are we due at dinner tonight?” Kurt asked after they’d made their goodbyes and were walking to the elevators.

“It’s late, not until 8:30 I think, after the rehearsal. Why?”

“If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind getting into the spa before then? I checked earlier and they had a few slots open for massages, and a facial would do me wonders. The air out here is saltier than I expected.”

Blaine lifted his chin, nodding once. “Oh! Of course, you should definitely take the opportunity. I might just take a nap. I feel like I’ve been up for two days.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind my saying, maybe you should join me? You seemed a little tense in there, maybe a massage would help? A fancy hot shave?” Kurt wiggled his shoulders excitedly.

“I -” Blaine paused. He didn’t have any reason not to. And after confessing to his dad he felt a lot less pressured that he might make a mistake and let something slip. “Yeah okay. I don’t think I’ve ever had a professional massage before.”

Kurt clapped his hands. “Oh, you’re going to love it.”

The massage was exactly the right thing to work out the remaining anxiety Blaine had been holding onto since talking with his dad. He wasn’t entirely proud of the fact that he had lied to his parents about Kurt, but his dad did seem to understand, and they way the masseuse pressed and pushed and pulled every uncovered inch of his body seemed to realign his head into something that felt a little more like himself. He didn’t even get (too) distracted by Kurt walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist. Blaine felt good for the first time in what felt like weeks.

After their massages, Kurt stayed to take advantage of the nearly empty sauna, but all Blaine wanted was a long hot shower. So he excused himself, and went back to their room alone. If he indulged in a few private thoughts about the way the spa towel sat over the curve of Kurt’s ass, who could blame him?

Kurt still hadn’t returned by the time Blaine finished in the shower, so he pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt and sat down to send Kurt a text.

Not sure when you’ll be back, wanted to let you know I’m going to try to take a nap before dinner. Don’t worry about making noise when you get back, I sleep like a rock.

Blaine put his phone on silent and dropped it on the bedside table. His last thought before dozing off completely was that he should probably tell Kurt that his dad knew everything now.

He didn’t hear his phone buzz with an incoming text.

Save me a spot on the bed. I feel like I’ve run a marathon, I may join you for that nap.

#in a minute #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic

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lottabank · 5 years ago

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name: evelyn charlotte banks nicknames: charlotte , lottie , lott , char , charlie , charmander , etc. but she no longer goes by evelyn in this lifetime age: twenty three physically , sixty seven biologically sexuality: panromantic / sexual pronouns: she / her , cisfemale species: vampire sign: gemini spotify: here pinterest: here

hello moon beams and star shines , this is late but i’ve just been busy with work ! i’ve got the time to try and finish stuff now , so i’m gonna work on trying to do my daughter’s intro. if you’d like to plot feel free to hmu via tumblr im or ask for my discord bc i’ll gladly give it. i also play rune ( shadow graced human ) so yeah it’s snottie back at it again , anything you want to know about me or lottie alike hmu or just read below to find out more about my sweet serial killer vamp princess

── the high council is prepared to hear the story of EVELYN CHARLOTTE ‘ LOTTIE ‘ BANKS , a VAMPIRE while noted as a WANDERER. we might of mistaken them as MADELAINE PETSCH. appearances may be deceiving, with immortality being so common among supernaturals. this being has walked the earth for NINETY years, and their face reflects an age of TWENTY THREE they’re a CITIZEN of estonia and will be residing in TALLIN.

during their stay of the harvest they shall work by day as a STRIPPER to blend in with the mortal crowd. however, at night you might find them as AN ESCORT / ASSASSIN. they’re UNHAPPY about the harvest, however, they plan to please the high council.

PERSONALITY.

vampire beauty queen , primadonna , self-proclaimed princess. this darling girl has always loved attention , luxury , all things beautiful and transitioning to the darkness only heightened that love. so much so that she will do just about anything to satisfy her own wants or needs. lottie is ruthless , verging on sociopathic. she is delicate , but she is dangerous. she is by no means unfeeling though , nor incapable of love. she can be sweet , she can be soft , she can be pink cheeks and bright smiles just as she can be bloody lips and deranged laughter. she is genuinely kind , loving and gentle unless your death would make her happier than your being alive.

ruling planet: mercury — the planet of communication body parts: shoulders , arms , hands element: air good day: fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , adventurous bad day: restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , overwhelmed favorite things: cell phones , fast cars , trendy clothes , obscure music , guitars , books , clubbing least favorite things: small-minded people , dress codes , authority figures , silence , routines secret wish: to have all the answers how to spot her: mischievous twinkle in her eyes, humming , talking with her hands where you’ll find her: taking pictures , behind the bar , in a chat room , playing devil’s advocate keywords: communication , collaboration , synergy , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness , ingenuity

charlotte’s energy circulates in a quick and frenetic way , witty wordplay and dynamic dialogue are her forte. she is great for brainstorming and socializing , but craves “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit energy and is always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds.

under the influence she can find herself with the gift of gab , talking and conversing with others for hours hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware of when she becomes a “ gossip girl , ” as she can crank up the rumor mill. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ we have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ”

the essence of charlie’s energy is fascinating , original , resourceful , charming , wise , and adventurous. some negative manifestations can devolve into more restless , distracted , two-faced , judgmental , depressed , and overwhelmed energy.

lottie has a tendency to ride the roller coaster of life , spiraling skywards one minute and plunging into lows the next. if you can keep up with her vibes though , you’ll have one hell of a thrill !

charlotte exhibits great creative synergy , instantly connecting people to each other. always inclined to spend time with friends and focused on changing the world one idea at a time.

a little bit older and wiser , more flexible and comfortable with change than others. she can “ chameleon ” herself to fit into a variety of situations.

can come across as clever and quick-witted , eager to dish out the juiciest pieces of news and happenings to their friends via text message and social media. in case that’s not enough , she’ll probably send you a snapchat story for good measure.

lottie loves fast cars , trendy clothes and any wacky gadgets or games they can tinker around with. part of the fun ( and curse ) of this fiery red head is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious , pun-dishing jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ? if you’re willing to see fifty shades of crazy , she’ll color your life in thrilling ways !

BACKGROUND.

evelyn charlotte banks was born june fourth , 1930 and was given the dark gift in the early fifties ( so you’ll definitely notice some call backs to that time period ). she has grown and developed and adapted throughout time better than most , but you can take the sock hop away from the girl but not out of her. she remembers her life before , but doesn’t dwell on nor even really miss it.

she grew up in your rather classic straight lace upper middle class suburban family and community with her perfect nuclear family. the town they lived in was small , close knit , and everyone knew everyone but especially who evelyn’s family was.

she was in a lot of pageants growing up and was even platinum blonde for most of her human life , because she was so afraid her red hair would keep her from being successful.

when she was eighteen years old with big shiny dreams of silver screens , luxury , and eyes all on her was all she could think of. she left her family and their small generational hometown in georgia for bigger , better things in none other than hollywood.

she was on her way , so desperate to be in the movies and be like marilyn monroe but shortly after is when she became ensnared by darkness and evil. she wasn’t very successful at all in the beginning so , she started wearing tighter , shinier outfits when she was on stage when suddenly she started getting actual recognition.

she wasn’t acting like she had intended , but it turned out her voice was good enough to land her plenty of lounge singing gigs in multiple joints. it was one particularly dark , seedy , dangerous joint that only opened once the sun set completely and closed upon the sun rise that she finally started to get propositioned to do so-called ‘ film gigs. it was also in this place where she met him for the first time.

( tw: cult ment. ) her maker is very old and before she ever knew he was anything more than a handsome older gentleman she was fully under his control. he was something of a cult leader who for the most part glamoured his ‘ followers ‘ , but that was never necessary with charlotte. she was thoroughly and completely in love with her maker , she even ‘ married ‘ him and lived on his compound.

( tw: rape ment. , assault ment. ) it wouldn’t be for a few more years that he would finally turn her ,and only after he found her brutally beaten and raped for nothing more than a snuff film. her maker found her on the verge of death and wasted no time in saving her life by bestowing his dark gift upon her.

( tw: murder ment. ) to say that lottie felt indebted to and fell in love with her maker to the point of obsession was an understatement , she would do anything and everything he asked of her including murder not in the name of feeding.

( tw: death ment. ) the films she was in were kept in the dark underbelly of the industry and no one was none the wiser , not to mention everyone thought she was dead after her last film.

so , she eventually did make her debut in film and was even on the silver screen finally. this only lasted for as long as she could get away with not aging before eventually she disappeared off the radar with her maker. the two traveled far and wide for a long time , but eventually went their separate ways even though lottie wanted nothing of the sort her maker commanded she live her own life without him now.

( tw: murder ment. ) she has since become something of a murderer ?? she prefers to call herself an assassin but it’s rare anyone actually pays her to murder anyone. you could even call her a serial killer if you take into account that her victims are almost always men of the unsavory variety , but she has two sides to her personality and it’s not like she’s full maniac.

ETC.

if you know what yandere means she fits that description very well , and if you don’t know what it means well: a common term in otaku fandom , a yandere is a person ( usually female ) romantically obsessed with someone to the point of using violent means to get them in their arms. often can be seen featured with a sharp weapon and a psychotic grin.

pretty much she comes off as this sweet , lovely , beautiful woman with lots of talent but in reality she can switch that off in an instant and literally kill you without any hesitation if it benefits her or someone she loves.

anyway she has been in estonia for only a bit now , but how long is flexible. she probably likes the scenery and the supernatural presence , but she’s honestly not a country mouse at all.

also not that she needs money , but there is very little she loves more than attention and money. she works at a club as live entertainment on occasion , singing or stripping or bartending or occasionally doing , mostly for the attention but also if she’s in need of money.

#vainglory.community #vainglory.intro #DOSSIER.

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mrs-captain-evans · 6 years ago

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Blind Date - Chris Evans x Ofc

Summary: Melanie (ofc) has been set up on a blind date with Captain America himself, Chris Evans. How will it go? Pairing: Chris Evans x Ofc Word Count: 1841 Warnings: Fluffy

A/N: Today is my birthday! So to celebrate I have written this little piece which sprung from an idea due to a friends first (and awful!) date. Thank you @mycapt-ohcapt for once again being an amazing support. Forever grateful <3

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This was the worst first date you’ve ever been on. Your best friend, Emily, set you up on a blind date with, what she described as, the perfect man who will make all your dreams come true. She gave you his number last week in case any plans change, but the only thing she told you was his name, Chris, nothing more. When you asked for his last name she said you’d bail if you knew who he was. You were sat at the 2 person table in a luxurious and exclusive restaurant in Boston fearful for your life. What if he was a serial killer? He didn’t sound creepy in his messages, but you still felt panicky.

The restaurant was far more expensive than your liking. Looking around at the other diners, feeling out of place, you couldn’t help but notice the time. He was 35 minutes late! If it wasn’t for the fact your glass of wine cost more than your weekly shop, you would of left 15 minutes ago.

Feeling frustrated and wanting to take your anger out on your best friend, you pulled out your phone to send her a text, ‘Ugh, he’s so late *rolling eye emoji* This is the last time you set me up, the fucker couldn’t even cancel himself. The waiters are giving me funny looks. You owe me big time for this!’

With a tight smile on your face, you looked towards the waiters, who were giving you a sympathetic look and asked for the check. Reluctantly paying for your drink, hoping your card didn’t decline, you thanked your server while vowing to never listen to your best friend again.

Standing up and downing the rest of your wine, you moved to leave, but a tall, muscular man with a full beard and a frantic look on his face caught your eye. The hostess pointed in your direction and the man politely nodded and turned in your direction striding towards the table. Reaching you, he apologised instantly “Oh god, I’m so sorry, my meeting overran, the traffic was terrible and I couldn’t find anywhere to park.”

Realising who your date was, you replied with a dazed edge to your voice, “That’s okay, I was just about to leave but I’m going to quickly use the restroom.” Before giving him a chance to reply, you rushed off in the other direction to compose yourself.

Chris Evans. Your date was Chris Evans. Captain America, Chris Evans. You couldn’t believe Emily, how could she? Not only was he the hottest bachelor in Boston, he was your celebrity crush. You were aware that Emily was distant friends with him but you never thought she’d actually set you up with the actor. You always knew that letting her plan the whole date was a bad idea, she picked the most over the top restaurant in Boston and now you were going to have to sit with the man, trying to act normal.

Heading back towards the table with a smile on your face, you noticed your wine glass was now full again and Chris sipped from a glass of his own, with the remaining bottle in a silver bucket to the right of him. As you approached the table to introduce yourself, Chris noticed you and awkwardly reached his hand out towards you, miss judging and knocking your glass over, tipping it straight onto your brand new, and expensive, dress.

“Shit! Fuck! Sorry.” Grabbing some napkins and passing them to you, he continued apologising, “I am so sorry, let me pay for the dry cleaning.”

Irritated at him for not only ruining your new $170 dress, but also being late, you couldn’t help your sarcastic response, “No point in dry cleaning, it’s ruined!” Looking up at him, seeing the sheepish look on his face, you couldn’t help but carry on, “I can’t just afford to spend nearly 200 dollars on a dress for it to be destroyed after wearing for an hour! This is the last time I ever let Emily interfere with my love life.”

“Look I am really sorry, I can’t apologise enough, I’m just- well I’m nervous.” Seeing him shifting on the spot, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, blushing, you felt bad for snapping at him.

“No I’m the one who should be sorry, I shouldn’t of snapped at you.” Still trying to wipe off as much as you can, you gave Chris a small smile, showing him he was forgiven.

Both of you sat back down and finally got onto the formal introductions, “I’m Chris Evans, the biggest and most awkward dork in Boston. Nice to meet you” He sent a wink your way.

Laughing at his humour, you flicked your hair over your shoulder, throwing him a cheeky smile, “Melanie Clarke, or Mel, the most wine drenched girl in Boston right now.”

“Yeah, I asked for that!” God, his laugh is infectious. You couldn’t help but look around the room in discomfort. This was not your kind of place, you’re a simple girl who loves a local and casual restaurant with home cooked food and doesn’t cost a months rent for a three course meal.

Noticing your uneasiness, Chris asked you if everything was okay. Wanting to be honest, you told him how you felt, “I’m not really a fancy kind of girl, I prefer little quaint, family run places. You know where the owners know your name and you can have a fulfilling meal surrounded by charm. Nothing that breaks the bank.” Seeing his embarrassed smile, you tried to make him feel a bit better, “Don’t get me wrong, this is a beautiful restaurant.”

“But..”

You looked into his eyes, shrugging slightly “It’s just not me.”

Seemingly delighted with your response, Chris let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god, I hate places like this. Do you wanna get out of here? I know a great pizza place”

“Yes please, I thought you’d never ask!”

Signalling for the check, Chris reaches into his pocket to pay the bill. Frantically searching through all his pockets, raising his voice slightly “Fuck! I cannot believe this.”

Surprised by his sudden outburst, you glanced at his annoyed face, “What’s up?”

Repeating his words and no doubt feeling mortified, “I cannot believe this! My earlier meeting overran and I left my house in such a rush to get here on time, that I forgot my wallet.” Shaking his head in disbelief, cursing at himself, “Chris you dick! And shit, you were late anyway! And now you’re cursing in front of a lady, fuck!”

As much as you enjoyed seeing him squirm in his seat, you felt a tiny bit sorry for the actor. You had a feeling he wasn’t always this horrendous at the dating scene, he did have a bachelor boy reputation after all.

The waiter comes over with the check and recognising the guilty look on his face, you reached into your purse and produced your credit card. “Don’t worry I’ll get this, a bottle of wine can’t be too expensive right?”

Wrong. As you studied at the bill you nearly choked on your own breath when you saw the figure at the bottom of the slip, $120. Trying not to look startled, you forced a smile the waiters way, hoping that your card didn’t decline. Thankfully the payment went through and you politely thanked the waiter.

Breaking the silence, Chris cleared his throat from across the table, and spoke to you in a timid voice, “All I seem to be saying to you is sorry, but I really do apologise, for everything.” Not wanting to be a bitch, you acknowledged him with a curt nod, trying not to let your anger boil over. “Please let me at least drive you home.”

“What and potentially get run over? No thank you. I’ll call a cab.” You exhaled loudly while pulling out your cell phone.

Just as you were about to dial the number, Chris’s small, gentle voice interrupted you. “I’ve really screwed this up haven’t I?” Closing your eyes for a brief second, you let his words and tone of voice sink in. Opening your eyes, you could see he was slumped in his chair, not making eye contact with you and looking very ashamed of himself.

“Sorry Chris, I just don’t think it was your day.” Feeling a bit guilty for barking at him a moment ago, you wanted to let him down gently.

He lifted his hopeful eyes, and while he stared into yours, asked “I’m guessing a second date isn’t on the cards?”

“I don’t know Chris.” Shrugging lightly, you couldn’t help but think this was all a big mistake.

With a smug smile on his face, and a knowing smirk, you suddenly felt on the spot, “Oh c’mon, please, I owe you big, remember?”

Confused at his question, you furrowed your eyebrows together not understanding him, “Huh?”

Grilling you further, “The ‘he’s late, what a fucker for not cancelling, you owe me big time’ text.”

Completely forgetting you had his number, texting him back only 5 hours ago confirming you were still on for this evening, you must of accidentally sent your message to him instead of Emily! Now you were the embarrassed one, “I umm- oh shit”

Chuckling lightly at you, “Looks like it’s not your day either.”

Mortified at making such a rookie mistake, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Nope, obviously not.” Your voice was tight and your breath was coming out in short bursts. Noticing Chris’s laughter you were pulled out of your near anxiety attack and couldn’t help but feel amused. This was definitely not the way you thought your evening would turn out, but as much of a catastrophe it was, you were happy you shared this awful experience with such a charming and humble man.

“Look, I know this evening hasn’t gone well. Actually it’s been a disaster, but I would love to see you again.” Pausing a little, he sent a wink your way, “Plus I owe you that pizza right?”

After a small debate in your head, you quickly decided to give him another shot. After all it was Emily who planned this outrageous dinner date. If you were both in a more comfortable environment then things, may perhaps, be more successful.

“Okay Evans, you’ve got yourself a second date….just.”

Smiling widely at you, he stood up, checked his watch, and held his hand out for you to follow his lead, “C’mon, it’s only 7.45pm, my condo isn’t too far from here, I can pick up my wallet and treat you to the best pizza in Boston. It’s the least I can do for being late, and ruining your dress. Oh and for making you pay for that ridiculously overpriced bottle of wine.”

Placing your hand into his, you both walked out of the restaurant feeling a lot more relaxed with big smiles on your faces.

“Just you wait until Emily hears about this!”

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Tag List: @mycapt-ohcapt @princess-evans-addict @gigglegirl77 @coffeebooksandfandom @the-sunshine-in-the-dark @loricameback

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans rpf #writing #fan fic #marvel #birthday post #mrs-captain-evans writes #21/11/2018

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