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the-thing-inside-your-closet · 2 months ago

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Prompts I’ve seen/found online that I have used an inspiration for many things, but mainly DP X DC stuff.

There’s 200 prompts/quotes in there

1. They match each other’s freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public.

2. People often mistake me for an adult because of my age.

3. “I have a solution.”

“Thank goodness.”

“It involves fire.”

“Absolutely not.”

4. Why are you hiding behind me? What did you do?

5. We can’t have a crisis - my schedule is already full!

6. “What’s our exit strategy?”

“Our what?”

“We’re all going to die.”

7. That is a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea. Let’s do it and see what happens.

8. “This coffee tastes weird.”

“That’s probably because it’s not coffee.”

9. “Can I bother you for a second?”

“You always bother me, but go ahead.”

10. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“So sharpening knives at 2am is just a hobby?”

11. I’m going to give my inner child a gun.

12. Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.

13. I get so affectionate when I’m sleepy it’s disgusting.

14. Leaving a watermelon on someone’s doorstep in the middle of the night is a pretty inexpensive way to occupy a portion of their mind forever.

15. No offence to myself or anything but what the fuck am I doing.

16. I would love to be mysterious but I never shut the fuck up.

17. The divorce rate amongst my socks is astonishing.

18. Adulthood is a scam I want to be a crow.

19. Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everybody’s problem.

20. My house is haunted because I live there.

21. That’s my emotional support entity of questionable moral standing.

22. God released me into the wild and now he’s hunting me for sport.

23. No, no you don’t want to get to know me, I’m better as a concept.

24. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to pretend I can’t hear.

25. Do birds every just fly for fun or are they always on some kind of mission?

26. The older I get the more I understand why roosters scream to start their day.

27. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’ I am older and I understand absolutely nothing.

28. Source? It was revealed to me in a delusion.

29. Why do drugs after 30 when you can just stand up too fast?

30. I won’t ever be the bigger person in an argument. God made me 5’ for a reason.

31. This meeting could have been a fist fight.

32. I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m never going to have a midlife crisis because my entire fucking life is a crisis.

33. Anyone fancy going off the fucking rails with me I’ve had enough.

34. Go ahead and get in the pond since you wanna act like a silly goose.

35. My life is like a romantic comedy except there’s no romance and it’s just me laughing at my own jokes.

36. Who the fuck decided to call it ‘emotional baggage’ and not ‘griefcase?’

37. I don’t have a nervous system. I am a nervous system.

38. “What makes us human?”

“Selecting all of the images with traffic lights.”

39. Don’t let anyone else ruin your day. It’s your day. Ruin it yourself.

40. The sixth love language is combat.

41. “I just told you 2 minutes ago.”

“I do not control the remember.”

42. Due to not wanting to. I will not be.

43. My flabbers be gasted daily.

44. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Like a hallucination, a therapist, or a person?”

45. “You’re the most ridiculous person I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you I try my best.”

46. I tried to embrace my inner child today and the little asshole bit me.

47. I think my dark under eye circles are adding to the aesthetic actually.

48. Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot.

49. Next time I’m opening up to someone will be at my autopsy.

50. Too many songs about love. Not enough song about sword fights.

51. “You’re cute.”

“I’m feral and chaotic, don’t touch me.”

52. I’m not as unhinged as I could be and I want everyone to be great full for that.

53. How dare you know stuff about things.

54. “I have a plan.”

“Is it a good one?”

“I have a plan.”

55. “Are you decent?”

“Not morally, but I’m wearing pants if that’s what you’re asking.”

56. I may have the right to remain silent but I do not have the ability.

57. I don’t want to look ‘pretty.’ I want to look otherworldly and vaguely threatening.

58. If you ever feel safe please remember that I’m out there.

59. “I’m too good for revenge.”

“Well I’m not. Give me the gun.”

60. “You know I really feel like we aren’t seeing eye to eye.

“It’s because you’re taller than me asshole.”

61. “They rely on you.”

“I can’t be blamed for their lack of judgment..”

62. Well, aren’t you a little Ray of pitch black.

63. I can get behind murder but I draw the line at misogyny.

64. In my defence your honour, I simply do not vibe with the law.

65. Life is a tornado and I’m just the cow being spun around for cinematic value.

66. You can burn all the sage you want, I’ll be back.

67. I believe in holding grudges. I’ll heal in hell.

68. You know…they make medication for the way you act.

69. I like men with massive, throbbing vocabularies.

70. My swear jar could finance the fucking space program.

71. “Well if you want my opinion-”

“I don’t. I have my own.”

72. I’m awake but not operational.

73. Due to personal reasons I’ll be going back to sleep.

74. The bags under my eyes are Prada.

75. I identify as a threat. My pronouns are try/me.

76. Audacity must be on sale this year…

77. “Have you ever been handcuffed?”

“Sexually or by law enforcement?”

78. I don’t like salad or eye contact.

79. “Come here.”

“Why?”

“Just come here.”

“No you’re gonna hit me!”

80. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.”

81. I have to keep reminding myself that I am an adult and will be charged as one.

82. Apparently ‘spite’ is not an appropriate answer to ‘what motives you?’

83. There is a fine line between my crazy and my intelligence. I use that line like a jump rope.

84. I don’t know where you got your opinion but I hope you kept the receipt.

85. Sometimes when I close my eyes…I can’t see.

86. Is being stupid a profession or are you just gifted?

87. Some days the supply of available curse words is insufficient to meet my demands.

88. I’m running out of reasons to not stab you.

89. When I said ‘how stupid can you be?’ It wasn’t a challenge.

90. Love at first sight? Tired, boring. Love at first assassination attempt? Spicy.

91. I’m sorry I don’t take orders. I barley take suggestions.

92. And that’s a wrap on another day where I acted like I knew what I was doing.

93. Now if you’ll excuse me…tonight’s bad decision isn’t going to make itself.

94. I take super hot showers to practice burning in hell.

95. I wanna be 14 again and ruin my life differently. I have new ideas.

96. Don’t be ashamed of who you are. That’s your parent’s job.

97. Being an adult is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

98. If I’m ever murdered, feel comfort in knowing I ran my mouth until the bitter end.

99. My spirit animal would fucking eat yours.

100. Some people will only like you if you fit inside their box. Don’t be afraid to shove that box up their ass.

101. I wonder if people look both ways before getting on my fucking nerves.

102. If I was a bird, I know who I’d shit on.

103. Giving a fuck doesn’t really go with my outfit.

104. I’m not insulting you, I’m describing you.

105. Life is full of disappointments and I just added you to the list.

106. And then I decided to take a detour to deliver an ass beating.

107. I wanna contribute to the chaos.

108. I’m gay and also stronger than all of you. So don’t try any shit.

109. With all due respect, which is none

110. What, pray tell, the fuck?

111. My arson charges don’t define me.

112. Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range.

113. I don’t understand your specific kind of crazy but I do admire your total commitment to it.

114. I am not above slashing my own tires to avoid going to this family brunch.

115. I don’t want to heal my inner child I want them to get revenge.

116. In order to insult me I must first value your opinion. Nice try though.

117. There’s someone for everyone and the person for you is a psychiatrist.

118. Keep rolling your eyes, maybe you’ll find a brain back there.

119. I think my guardian angel drinks.

120. In my defence, I was left unsupervised.

121. I believe in you. I also believe in Bigfoot so don’t get too excited.

122. If you figure me out I want an explanation.

123. I don’t think I meet the height requirements to ride your emotional roller coaster.

124. When killing them with kindness doesn’t work, try voodoo.

125. Another fine day ruined by responsibility.

126. You call them swear words. I call them sentence enhancers.

127. Stop petting my peeves.

128. What a year this week has been.

129. Don’t follow me I don’t know where I’m going.

130. Due to unfortunate circumstances, I am awake.

131. I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

132. Please don’t interrupt me while I’m ignoring you.

133. Everyone has the right to be stupid but you’re abusing the privilege.

134. I just know I will die trying to pet something I shouldn’t.

135. At this point, if a clown invited me into the woods, I’d just go.

136. I told him to take care of his eyes because they’re the only balls he has.

137. The trash gets picked up tomorrow. Be ready.

138. My last words will probably be sarcastic.

139. We don’t have time to unpack all that.

140. I may have committed light treason.

141. How is ‘pretty boy’ supposed to be an insult? I’m the prettiest goddamn boy in this town.

142. I’m not interested in being polite or heterosexual.

143. “Based on statistical evidence, I’m immortal.”

“How so?”

“Haven’t died yet.”

144. I’m just here to establish an alibi.

145. Take the day off from being the bigger person and choose violence, you deserve it.

146. Forgive and forget? I’m neither Jesus nor do I have alzheimers.

147. People are so ungrateful. No one ever thanks me for having the patience to not kill them.

148. “I can see your bra.”

“Fucking good it was expensive.”

149. Sir, that’s my emotional support knife collection.

150. My idea of ‘help from above’ is a sniper on the roof.

151. “We’re surrounded!”

“Excellent, we can attack in any direction!

152. Lord give me patience or an untractable handgun.

153. Step back! I’m a professional idiot!

154. “Trust your gut.”

“I have anxiety. My gut is always telling me to abort mission.”

155. Keep your morals away from me.

156. Your existence gives me a headache go stand over there.

157. What, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck?

158. My heart is not a home for cowards.

159. Underestimate me so I can embarrass you.

160. “It’ll be easy. You just have to seduce them.”

“You’re kidding, right? I’m about as seductive as a cabbage.”

161. You’ve got heart, kid. Several hearts. Honestly, I’m a little scared of you.

162. It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did.

163. I’m no doctor - but I think he’s dead.

164. I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.

165. “What brings you here?”

“A continuum of terrible choices.”

“You’d be surprised to know how often people say that.”

166. “I thought we agreed to tell each other when we were bleeding internally.”

“That’s a very specific promise I don’t remember making.”

167. “Did you really google how to flirt with a girl?”

“What? How’d you know that?”

“You do realise there’s a search history?”

168. “I’m gonna…”

“If you kick down the door, I swear…”

“I’M GONNA PUNCH IT WITH MY FOOT!”

169. “Is it still murder if I give them a heads up?”

“That’s a threat.”

“Damn.”

170. Surprise! I’m back from the dead! Isn’t that exciting?

171. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be in the corner, having another existential crisis.

172. I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.

173. You’re important to me you piece of shit.

174. “Why are your hands purple?”

“That’s a very good question.”

175. Can someone turn off the sun please?

176. “I had a thought.”

“Oh no.”

“I swear it’s a good one this time!”

177. I’ve met bread smarter than you.

178. “Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out.”

“Oh, well if YOU don’t like it.”

179. Dude, we are not asking the dragon for directions.

180. You’ve got as much charm as a dead slug.

181. For you, I could steal the stars - but I can also get them through legitimate means, if that impresses you more.

182. I am under no obligation to make sense to you.

183. You smile like an idiot when you’re talking to them.

184. Don’t you sign to me in that tone.

185. Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.

186. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t care. Shut up.”

187. Now that I made it weird, I’m going to make my exit.

188. So uh, I noticed you’re kinda naked. Is that intentional or…?

189. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Smart man.”

190. Well, if you’d woken up properly the first time I kicked you, I wouldn’t have had to do it four more times.

191. “I have NEVER been so insulted.”

“You don’t listen much, do you?”

192. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Yup. I just don’t care.”

193. I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into. I just thought it would be amusing.

194. I would tell you to be yourself but that almost got us killed last time.

195. “Why aren’t you worshipping me, mortal?”

“Not interested. Thanks.”

196. “I’d rather be dead.”

“Then I have some good news for you.”

197. “Did you hear that scream?”

“Yes, I’m the one who screamed.”

198. “What happened to your-”

“I lost a bet.”

“Why-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

199. Reading way above my grade level didn’t get me as far in life as I had hoped.

200. Due to foreseen circumstances well within my control I will be late.

#writing prompts #prompts #I found a lot of these online so I’m not 100% sure of many of their sources #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp

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instantdoodlez · 1 month ago

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Jashtober days 1-20

Alright, it's a while later than I was hoping to post it, but here it is. Same deal as the warmups, moving my art and commentary over from Twitter, because that site sucks ass <3

Day 1: Single. Didn't realize it meant like.. a music single until the day of, so it's pretty basic. Got a Mr Jash Like ™️ though, so that was a strong start to the project.

Day 2, Astral. Space themed Soul drawing. Soul is the Stars in my hc (the way that Mind is the sun and Heart is the moon in canon), so I figured it would fit well enough.

Day 4, Light. Nothing to really say on this one. (skipped day 3 since it was a duplicate prompt, 'power hour')

Day 5, Angel. My best try at what the angel at the gates in Chonny's inferno looks like. Biblically accurate because it's just cooler. Meant to add a normal-ass clipboard in their hand for the funny, but I forgot.

Day 6, Forest. Dear god, the background on this one killed me. Took many layers and overuse of the blend tool. On another note Mr Jash liked the post on twitter and that, yet again, jumpscared me (This is a pattern /lh)

Day 7, Moss. The little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Didn't know I would ever call fungi cute, but the little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Proud of this one overall. And it got Jash liked as well, so! 🎉

Day 8, Tidal. Jesus, did all my ship of theseus drawings do relatively bad in the algorithm. Anyways, this one was based on the fifth ship of theseus. Very pretty color pallete, cool colors.

Day 9, Cruisin'. This one was posted late because I couldn't get the shading right and just left it for the next day. Looks much better now.

Day 11, 8-bit. Dug out my old pixilart account to make this one. (Skipped day 10 because "apathy, haha funny". Also to help stave off burnout)

Day 12, Haiku. Heart coming up with his magnum opus (that line from Haiku/lh). This one's background took forever. Many different layers.

Day 13, Encore. Drew The Announcer, everyone's favorite eldritch horror story narrator. Props to GW for making me actually like Monster Mash, I don't even mind the original one now. Mr Jash liked this one too, so that's nice :]

Day 14, Reflection. Whole with a scribbled out face… cool design, and pretty visually interesting. Happy with this one. It also got jash liked.

Day 15, Momento. Had a hard time drafting this one before I realized "oh.. momento.. like.. momento mori.. I am very dumb". Regardless, very happy with this one. It's probably my favorite out of all the jashtober drawings I've done.

Day 17, Theseus. Based on the first Ship of Theseus song, a drawing of the shipmaker. (Skipped day 16 because it was another repeat prompt, Hindsight)

Day 18, Sunset. Based on the lines "When I woke it was daylight, and the clouds were pink / The sun was coming up or going down, I think" from Drink to Death.

Day 19, Savages. The crowd sure does love an upset.

Day 20, Crowned. Mind. Wanted to add a nightlight in the shape of the sun but the composition got too crowded, so I compromised with the lamp chain.

And, that's it! All 17 prompts I've done so far. I'll continue posting the rest of the Jashtober prompts one by one on here. Have a good day/night, and thank you for reading this far if you have!

#Chonny jash #Jashtober2024 #Jashtober #Digitalart #cj thdph #gwotnlh #cj gw #cj hms #cj heart #cj mind #cj soul #heart chonny jash #mind chonny jash #soul chonny jash #whole chonny jash

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miraclewoozi · 8 months ago

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hi j!! congratulations on 500!! can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you :) hope you’re having a lovely day! just wanted to send in a request:

❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜ from the fluff list with woozi?

it’s no pressure though! thank you so much <33 mwah

LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. - l.jh

pair : jihoon x gn!reader prompt : “ don’t be a stranger, okay? ” wc : 2.3k heads up : coworker!jihoon. fluff. kinda silly. notes : HI BESTIE thank u sm for sending this in!!!! i hope you like it.<3 notes 2.0 : everyone deserves an emotional support IT guy, in my unprofessional opinion. i also think that 100% of those should be woozi.

You knew Jihoon was leaving. You’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this: he told you before he even handed in his resignation that he had accepted a job offer elsewhere. But despite trying everything in your power (including, but not limited to, bribery, begging and three whole days of the cold shoulder), his decision didn’t change. When you gave him a full lecture about abandonment and betrayal, and the fact that nobody else in your work’s IT department comes close to solving some of the shit that happens with your computer…

He had the audacity to fucking laugh.

In your moment of desperation. Your hour of need. Practically begging on your knees (all right, he was stood next to your desk while you were looking up at him from your office chair) for him not to leave you high and dry like this, he patted you on the shoulder and chuckled as he told you that you’d be fine. As if this wasn’t actually, literally, the end of the world.

Asshole.

And okay, whatever, maybe Jihoon isn’t ‘just’ the only person on the tech team who understands that you’ve been followed by a curse when it comes to computers since you were in middle school. Maybe he isn’t just so good at his job that him leaving has the potential to ruin your ability to do yours.

Maybe... it’s a little bit deeper than that.

You first met nearly five years ago, when he was brand new. In his first week, he came stumbling into your office, bleary eyed and coffee in hand, at 8:15 on a Monday morning to try and ‘fix’ your PC. After about 6 seconds of fumbling, your screens came to life and he flushed as he told you that a cable on one of your monitors had just come loose. Ever since, you’ve been totally taken with him: with his frowny concentrating face, his pretty, nimble fingers, his quietly delivered jokes. The way he always goes pink when the older ladies in your office coo over him and how he splutters when they tease you for practically being work-married, by now.

Not least because he’s a very nice guy, and you find him so easy to talk to, and now? Now he's leaving you.

The guy who brings you snacks on days you have to work through your lunch breaks. The guy who comes by just to make sure you’re not about to dive out of a second floor window on a Wednesday afternoon. One of the special few people you choose to hang out with outside of work. He’s the man who meets you for coffee some weekends and lets you complain about the fact that the next closest person in your department to you in age could still be your mother, while he complains to you about bossy executives who escalate their IT jobs to a ‘critical incident’ after just five minutes. Jihoon is the guy who has brought you a silly gift to decorate your desk with every birthday and Christmas since you met. The guy who picks you up (with breakfast) when your car is in the shop getting work done.

He even pretended to be your boyfriend one year when Johnny from accounting started to make moves on you during the annual Christmas function. (Perhaps him posessively keeping a hand on your thigh every minute you were sat down next to each other made it the best night of your life.)

All this to say… he gets you. He always has. Your weird little friendship with him works, and even though you still get butterflies every time you see him, you’ve never felt so comfortable with a colleague before. You can ignore your little crush when you start thinking about your devastation over him being gone soon. Your feelings have no part to play in Jihoon being someone you trust, someone who helps you immeasurably: someone who makes your working life a little more bearable.

What on Earth are you going to do without him?

His last day has rolled around faster than you know what to do with, and at 3:30 on Friday afternoon, like clockwork, his head appears around your office door. An apologetic smile replaces the cheeky one he usually wears when he shows up, and you narrow your eyes at him before telling him to go away.

“Charming as ever,” he laughs, sliding into your office anyway and making a beeline for you, waving at the people who glance up and greet him. He leans against your desk and you sit back finally, crossing your arms.

“I’m busy,” you lie, frowning at your screen. You finished everything you needed to do about ten minutes ago, but you’re not about to let him — or anyone, for that matter — know so. You’ve worked hard to master the art of looking occupied and you’re deploying every tactic you know: there’s no way you’re going to get five more projects added to your to-do list this close to home-time. “Traitor.”

“Last thing on a Friday? Like hell you are,” Jihoon chuckles, leaning down and looking at your screen too, speaking quietly enough to ensure no one around you can to hear him.

“Blow my cover and I’ll slash your tyres,” you playfully threaten under your breath. “I’ve already rejected a meeting request this afternoon.”

“Well, aren’t you a team player,” he quips, rolling his eyes before he sits back upright and says louder, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to drop this off.”

He places a small brown bag on top of a neatly stacked pile of paperwork on the left hand side of your desk and gestures for you to look inside. When you do, you know your attempt at a stoic gaze starts to soften and you look up at him again with a saddened pout.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “You can’t do this to me, I’m fragile enough already.”

It’s just a muffin, for crying out loud. He’s been bringing you these from the bakery across the street every week, for as many weeks as you can remember. But something about him doing it on his last day makes your heart beat out a funny little pattern and you bite the inside of your lip as he shakes his head.

His hair is tied low today with a few pieces left out to frame his face: it softens him, giving him a bit of a curtain to hide behind, but you can still see his cheeks flush as he glances away from you. You slip your hand into the bag and pull the muffin out, setting it on your desk and peeling the paper back.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Jihoon says, momentarily stopping you as you rummage through your desk drawer for the cutlery set you keep wrapped up in there. You just wanted a knife so you could cut it in two. You just wanted to share this last little treat with him.

There are a million ways you could respond. Last-ditch attempts at telling him to retract his notice to leave. Advise that it’s his own fault. Pretend like you’re not going to be miserable here without him. To name but a few.

But the fact that he’s picked up, and started to play with, the little fidget cube you keep by your pen holder for particularly boring Teams calls tells you that he isn’t saying it in the way he does when you’re taking a week off to go on vacation.

His thumbs rhythmically play with the little clicking buttons on one side and you pull the blunt knife free from the plastic bag hidden beneath your favourite notebook. Instead of teasing him, you cut the muffin equally and pick up one piece, holding it out to him.

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

He eyes you to make sure you’re certain before he takes the slice out of your hand and holds it in his fingers. You pick up the other piece and extend it towards him, bumping the two halves together in a mock ‘cheers’ for the time you’ve spent together.

You take bites from the muffin in unison and you know the zesty lemon flavour spills onto his tongue at the same time as it does yours. Soft hums come from the both of you and Jihoon tilts his head back for emphasis, too, sighing contentedly after he swallows.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You ask of him, laying the paper bag down flat and putting your own piece on top of it. “I mean it. You better not forget about me.”

“As if I ever could,” he says.

“You might, if there’s someone at your new job more pitiful than I am,” you counter. “You’ll have a replacement ‘me’ quicker than you can blink.”

Jihoon laughs, setting what’s left of his half of the muffin down too and dusting the crumbs off his fingers into the trash can at your side.

“Trust me,” he starts, folding his arms. The subtle flex of his muscle makes the shirt he’s wearing tighten around his biceps and you glance down at them, at how his sleeves are pushed up to the elbows and his long, delicate fingers lay over the neatly folded cotton. “My eyes are up here. Trust me — I don’t want a 'replacement you'.”

You know your eyes go wide as he calls you up for staring and you look at his face immediately, at the coy smile he’s wearing, at the way the tips of his ears — just visible through the way his hair separates — are dusted pink. You just nod. He takes another bite, savours, and swallows it before talking again.

“So, I actually… kind of lied? There’s another reason I came down here, uh—”

You know this catches the attention of your office’s resident blabbermouth by the way her eyebrows pick up from a few desks in front of you and you tap his hip with the back of your hand, darting your eyes towards the door quickly to hush him. Jihoon catches your drift, nods, and stands up; you lock your computer and lead him out. When you’re in the hallway, door secured (and checked) behind you, he turns to face you again, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Okay,” Jihoon nods, tilting his head forwards for a second to gather his thoughts before he shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks back up at you. “I-… I know HR have this whole thing about, like… internal… relationships, and- and stuff? So I didn’t ever… you know—”

You hold your breath, clasping your hands behind you in the hopes he doesn’t see how they start twitching. His own, you realise, are deep in the pockets of his slacks. For the same reason?

“I wanted to. Trust me. For— shit, for so long, but I didn’t know if you’d go for it, and I really didn’t want to have, like… anyway — uh-…”

The blush that was formerly only given away by its presence on his ears has migrated to his cheeks now, and is starting to spread dangerously towards his temples and down his neck. He keeps glancing everywhere around your head, as if he’s chasing pixies in the air with his eyes. It's adorable, but...

“And… I guess what I wanted to say, is—”

“Yes,” you say before he can finish. He’s never been the most outgoing but you’ve still never seen Jihoon fall over his words like this before; you’re starting to feel agonised by how long it’s taking him to get to the point.

(Especially when said point is what you’ve been waiting a small lifetime for.)

“I didn’t even ask—”

“You didn’t have to,” you laugh. He breaks into a chuckle as well. His shoulders relax. He exhales through his pretty, pursed lips.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asks, finally, thumb tapping against his forearm.

“Free as a bird, actually.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He lifts one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, still laughing, screwing up his eyes and his nose in a way that makes him look entirely too kissable. You have to forcibly remind yourself that there’s nothing you can do about that right now, though, that someone could walk through that door any second and technically, he still works here until 5:30pm today.

Tomorrow night? Well. That’ll be a different story.

“I’ll let you go back to clicking through your emails,” he says then, pushing off from the wall. “Text me later?”

“Keep your voice down,” you grin, settling your hand back on the doorknob. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Jihoon bites his bottom lip as he nods and starts to back away, ultimately beginning on the walk back to his own department. You, however, need to let yourself calm down before you can so much as think about going back into your office: you fan your face with your hands and take a couple of deep breaths first, and only when you’re sure that there are no visible signs of glee left on your face do you re-enter, walking as nonchalantly to your desk as you can and pretending like every middle-aged, bespectacled set of eyes aren’t waiting for you to spill the gossip.

You don’t need to spill anything, though. Pressed to the bottom of your keyboard, clear as day, — he must have done this as soon as you stood up — is a bright yellow Post-It. His immediately recognisable — but almost illegible — handwriting in the thick, black felt-tipped pens he always uses decorates the note, accompanied by a signature smiley face in the top corner.

The ink is dry. The paper is a little curled. He wrote this before he came to find you, the giddy voice in your brain tells you. The words he’s written down only heighten that feeling.

He gets you. He always has.

Don’t be a stranger, okay? Miss you already. - J.

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3

#💌 - mailbox.#newoozi #j writes.#*my fic.#mw500party!#woozi fluff #woozi fic #woozi x reader #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon fic #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #*

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stellar-constellations · 9 months ago

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Star Patient: Chapter 4 (FINISHED SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 11,018 words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

"Andy."

"Hey Andy, wake up..."

"Andrew."

"Andrew, wake up!"

Andrew shot awake, before letting out a hiss, clutching his head as it pounded terribly. He cradled his head, before turning his attention to his bedside, where Ashley stood.

"What are you doing here?" Andrew questioned, still holding his head. "You manage to worm your way in here that quickly after getting banned?"

"Hospital security sucks." She hummed. "That, or they just hire any idiot off the street."

"Maybe you can get a job here." Andrew commented sarcastically, earning a half-hearted glare from his sister. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

"Well, how are you healing? Are we ready to get out of here?" Ashley questioned, sitting down on his bedside, the uneven distribution of weight on his bed causing his injured legs to shift, making him wince.

"I don't know..." he hissed between his teeth as pain shot through his legs and head. "I think it'd be best for me to stay here until I can walk again. We have no where to go when I heal up, and the nurse said I'd have to be bedridden for a few weeks to make sure my legs heal and get strong again." He spoke. "I bet there's probably going to have to be physical therapy too for my legs, so I can walk and crap."

"Ugh... healing broken bones takes too long. I feel like a kid watching their grandpa die." She groaned, physically deflating.

"What's the rush?" Andrew questioned. "We're out of our old city, and it's not like anyone's following us anymore."

Ashley had a look on her face, a flash of hesitancy appeared on her face, gaining Andrew's immediate interest. "I just... I had a dream last night, from the demon, and..." she paused, looking away as she thought what to say.

"And...? And what?" Andrew questioned, prompting for her to go on.

"Ah, never mind." She huffed, a little frustrated. "It's not something you can help with, being bedridden and all."

"Are you sure?" Andrew questioned, seeming concerned. "You can tell me—"

"Don't worry about it, Andy!" Ashley smiled, plastering on a fake smile. "It's nothing too big. So, how are the nurses and doctors treating you?"

"Good..." Andrew muttered.

He was concerned about Ashley's strange behavior, but he knew that if she didn't want to talk, she sure as hell won't.

"They're all fine... Some of the nurses and doctors here are pretty weird, but the one nurse that takes care of me seems pretty nice." Andrew explained. "but, she works in the pediatric branch so I don't see her much." Andrew quickly added, hoping that his lack of time and attention to the nurse would save him from another argument between the siblings.

"A nurse? Is she pretty?" Ashley questioned, keeping up her innocent smile.

Andrew knew this trap very well. He opted to look away from her eyes, staring out the window at the daylight outside.

"No..." he lied. "I wouldn't say that."

"Really? Even with her pretty (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair?" Ashley questioned.

When did Ashley meet (Y/N)? Ashley had never been in the hospital during the night, so there's no way she met her inside the hospital.

"How did you know what she looked like? Did you meet (Y/N)?" Andrew questioned, curious as he turned his gaze back at Ashley.

"I knew it..." Ashley muttered, a distasteful expression on her face.

"What?" Andrew questioned, confused.

"Don't worry about it." Ashley spoke, standing up from the bed's end, the small movement causing Andrew's legs to hurt a bit. "I'm gonna go grab food. I didn't get any on the way here. I'll see you later, Andrew." Ashley smiled.

Before Andrew could open his mouth, Ashley walked out of his room, exploring the hospital as she avoided the nurses and security guards who could recognize her. She was able to snatch a scalpel lying in one of the empty doctor offices while a nurse was cleaning the exam table, headphones in her ears as she blasted music. Quite unprofessional really, but it helped Ashley get a weapon that was actually useful rather than an empty handgun.

She shoved it in her pocket and waited around the hospital for hours, changing her hiding spot every now and then. She made sure to stay in the pediatric branch, the branch Andrew said that pretty little nurse worked in. In one of her hiding spots, two little boys were rummaging around before they discovered her.

The two had been looking around for their parents after escaping their hospital rooms, Ashley figured due to them calling out “Mom! Dad!” in the hallways. They got to her hiding spot and opened the white curtain she was hiding behind, looking to see if their parents were behind there (kid logic, it makes no sense).

Before the two could scream, Ashley quickly covered their mouths with her hands.

“Don’t be brats now, stay quiet.” She hissed.

They looked at each other, then her, before nodding. Ashley looked hesitant to let them go, but she didn’t want to be discovered, so she moved her hands from their mouths, wiping her hands on her shirt.

“Are you a ghost?” one of the kids whispered.

“No.” She answered, her expression a mix between boredom and displeasure.

“Are you a nurse?” the other questioned.

“No.” Ashley scoffed, her tone almost sounding offended that they had the audacity to say that. “Like I’d work with kids."

“So, who are you? What are you doing here?” one of the blond boys questioned.

“I’m playing hide and seek with one of my friends.” She lied. “Leave, you’re gonna give away my hiding spot.” She huffed, grabbing the curtain and closing it to shield her from view.

Before the kids could ask to play too (having already forgotten their parents), they heard footsteps, followed by a voice.

“What are you two doing?” a female questioned, her shadow being seen through the curtain.

Both of the boys jumped, letting out squeals as they turned to look at her. Ashley grabbed the scalpel she stole out of her pocket, holding it tightly in her hand. Whether it was the she was looking for or not, she’d kill her if she gets discovered.

“N-nothing! Just… playing!” one of the boys spoke nervously.

Good… Ashley thought, smirking.

“I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” One introduced themselves.

“Like the cartoon?” the nurse questioned.

Funny. Ashley thought sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the joke.

“Um… yes?” one of them spoke, hesitant in their answer.

“Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms.” The nurse commented. “Who are you talking to?” she questioned.

Ashley’s grip on the scalpel’s handle tightened, wiggling her shoulders to loosen up a bit in case the nurse got too curious, getting ready to kill her.

“Come along now.” The nurse spoke.

Ashley watched the two small shadows walk away from her hiding spot. The nurse stayed for a second, keeping her attention on the curtain, before she guided the two boys away from her. Ashley peeked her head out of the curtain, seeing a nurse with two little boys walking away. The nurse had (h/c) hair, but Ashley couldn’t see the color of her eyes.

Damn. Ashley thought. I think that was just my target…

She couldn’t be certain per se, but it was certainly the best description so far.

Well, it’s not the end of the world. In fact, it’s probably for the best. If she killed the girl in this hospital, not only could she get medical assistance from others in the hospital if something goes wrong, but it’d be a pain in the ass to hide the body somewhere here too (not to mention the security cameras). If someone died in the hospital, they’d check the security cameras and find Ashley, then Andrew would be in trouble too since Ashley walked in his room and he was left unharmed.

If she can’t kill her in the hospital, she’d just kill her at home. She can just hitch a ride in (Y/N)’s car, it’s really not that hard. Ashley can just follow the girl out of the hospital and either threaten her with the empty gun (not like the nurse would know) or she can just unlock her car depending on her car’s model.

Ashley made sure to follow behind (Y/N) for the rest of the night. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long. After rushing out of the staff room, she ran to the elevators. Ashley took the chance to rush down the hallway and slide down the hospital staircase railing, reaching the elevator’s lobby. She followed (Y/N) out of the hospital lobby, following her to her car.

(Y/N) unlocked the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, Ashley timing opening and closing the door from her the back passenger side on her right. (Y/N) buckled her seatbelt, turning up the radio to a random jazz station this late at night and sitting in her car, thinking in silence.

(Y/N) seemed to be muttering to herself, this combined with the radio on allowed Ashley to situate herself onto the car floor, away from (Y/N)’s vision. Maybe if (Y/N) wasn’t so upset, or maybe if she drove in silence without the auditory distraction, she would’ve noticed Ashley behind her; but she didn’t.

Ashley decided not to kill (Y/N) at the moment. If (Y/N) died, they’d crash and Ashley could potentially die or be hospitalized; which would give her a one-way ticket to jail after they examine (Y/N)’s body and realized she didn’t die from the crash.

(Y/N) kept muttering as she drove, seemingly annoyed. Ashley was a bit curious of what she was so upset about (Penelope’s potential crush for Andrew, she was upset about) but Ashley stayed quiet; it would be pretty stupid to say “hey, what are you muttering about?” when you snuck into your victim’s car to kill them.

The drive wasn’t too long, but to Ashley it felt like an entirety. When the car stopped, (Y/N) turned off the radio and stayed in the car for a few minutes, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared into space absentmindedly. She finally let out a sigh, then unlocked her car and hopped out. (Y/N) locked the car and walked to her apartment door on the first floor outside, opening the door and shutting it behind her.

Ashley undid the car door lock on the inside, popping up the lock button and carefully exiting the car (after a small heart attack from the inner lights of the car turning on once she opened the door). She made sure there were no people in the parking lot, then she shut the car door behind her and ran up to (Y/N)’s apartment.

Ashley walked up to the door, carefully trying the door handle to see if it was unlocked. It was.

This is almost pathetic how easy it is…

Either the work day tired her out, or she really has no common sense or street smarts.

Ashley slinked into the apartment, the house pitch black. (Y/N) didn’t even bother trying to light up the house, now this was starting to get almost sad.

Ashley crept carefully through the hallway, using her hands to guide her through the dark. Ashley made it to an opening that led into the living room, the only source of light being the window that showed the sun starting to rise.

(Y/N) was on her back as she laid on her couch, staring up at the ceiling silently, no thoughts seeming to go through her mind.

Okay, now this is depressing. Very depressing. Ashley almost felt a little sorry taking her life; or, what was left of it really, which wasn’t much it seemed.

Ashley carefully walked past the depressed nurse, finding her kitchen. Ashley decided she didn’t want the scalpel anymore and she traded it for a long kitchen knife instead, 8 inches long with a sharp, pointy blade.

She held the knife as she explored more of the house, finding (Y/N)’s room. The room was probably the most decorated of the house, with small plotted pants in the window (surprisingly alive, a comparison to their soon-to-be-dead owner). Her room wasn’t decorated much, having a dresser, a closet, a bookshelf of books, a bed, and a desk. Her walls were pretty plain, and she barely had anything on her dresser to hold other than a multimedia center on it.

Even her bedding was a plain grey, but there were colorful soft plushies that covered the bed to brighten up the room.

Ashley’s unsure if that’s childish or even more pathetic, needing plushies to replace humans? That’s just depressing.

Ashley was starting to doubt if it was even worth killing this woman, her life is already pathetic enough as it is. Ashley even contemplated if someone would even miss her. For now, Ashley hid behind the bedroom door and waited for (Y/N) to walk in… whenever she decides to stop sulking on the couch. . .

(Y/N) laid on her couch, staring at the ceiling pathetically. She couldn’t be bothered to think, or even recall her day. Days and week just all just seemed to blur into one now. If one of her patients told her this is how they felt in life, she’d be considered and talk with Doctor Ryan about scheduling an appointment with a therapist; but (Y/N) had been living like this since she was a child. It doesn’t affect her as much as it did when she was a child.

Being alone doesn’t hurt anymore.

I need to get up and shower… (Y/N) thought.

She turned on her side, staring at her reflection in her TV. She looked pathetic curled up on the couch like that.

She wanted to get up and get ready for deal, get rid of all the germs and hazardous matter that was stuck on her clothes and skin, but walking to the bathroom just seemed like a challenge.

She groaned, pausing a few seconds, before getting up from her couch and sluggishly walking to her room.

I just need to shower, eat a meal, then sleep. I should be feeling better tomorrow. She thought, telling herself the same lie she’s told herself for years.

She walked down her hallway, a plain hallway. It was nothing but bare wall, just about as empty as she felt here alone. She had no paintings to put up (and deciding what she’d hang up would be too much of a struggle). She didn’t want to hang up any of her awards or accomplishments, they held no meaning if her parents couldn’t see the victory or praise her for it. She had no family pictures, and even if she did, she wouldn’t have felt pride about the woman that would stand in the frame—not herself or her mother.

She let out a soft sigh, maybe she should get a pet? Sleeping in a bed covered with stuffed animals doesn't really make loneliness any better, just makes sleep more comfortable. Pets are great for depression too! But it'd be so bothersome trying to choose one, yet alone have time for it... maybe she could just get her a reptile, something that can live inside of a habitat and won't need much care; be independent and uncaring to touch, unlike her own needs.

She opened her bedroom door, flicking on the light switch. She stepped inside, rummaging through her drawers for a comfortable set of pajamas. Ashley stood in the corner, watching (Y/N) from behind the open bedroom door, before she decided to take her chance.

She carefully crept behind (Y/N), a kitchen knife in hand, one she stole from (Y/N)'s kitchen since Andrew wasted all the bullets in her gun when he shot that hitman in the park. She was a little nervous, it’d be her first kill without Andrew or the help of her demon friend.

As much as she’d like to give (Y/N)’s soul to the demon, this felt more like a personal kill. Surely the demon wouldn’t mind too much if Ashley gave them a dead body instead of a living person.

Ashley raised her knife in the air, planning to hit (Y/N)’s neck. She’d rather make this quick, they’re in an apartment complex so there’s neighbors around; she’d rather not have anyone hear what’s going on.

Before Ashley could plunge the knife down, (Y/N) turned around, her clothes in hand as she looked at Ashley. Her eyes widened, surprised, before it trailed to the silver blade in her hands.

“…Hey?” Ashley smiled, feigning an amused smile to hide the nervousness she felt in committing this act alone for the first time.

“Are you… trying to kill me with my own kitchen knife?” (Y/N) questioned, recognizing the blade almost immediately.

She even looked a bit annoyed that Ashley had the audacity to kill her with her own knife, her own money and cooking utensil being used against her. That’s indeed a bit frustrating once you push away that fear, recognizing you’re about to die.

“Uh, yeah?” Ashley confirmed. “Are you gonna fight, or is this gonna be—“

(Y/N) quickly grabbed her bottle of perfume before Ashley could finish her sentence, spraying Ashley in the eyes.

Yeah, not easy, it seemed.

“Fuck!” Ashley hissed, squeezing her eyes shut as she swung her knife rapidly in the air.

(Y/N) was trapped between Ashley and the dresser, trying to avoid the knife before it slashed her forearm. (Y/N) took the chance, using her dresser for leverage as she placed her foot on the dresser for a boost, smashing her shoulder into Ashley’s chest, pushing her away.

Ashley stumbled on the ground, the knife laying next to her as her eyes stung from the potent citrusy perfume. (Y/N) rushed past Ashley, but Ashley heard her steps and reached out. With luck, she successfully grabbed (Y/N)’s leg and tripped her, resorting in her falling right next to Ashley.

“Fucking bitch.” Ashley hissed venomously, feeling for her knife through her blurred vision.

She felt the cold blade, reaching a bit lower and grabbing the handle, keeping a strong hold of it. She kept ahold of (Y/N)’s leg as she stabbed her calf, hitting bone.

A terrible sharp and tingling sensation shot through (Y/N)’s leg, seeing white for a second as the pain caught up. (Y/N) let out a gasp, verging on a scream, before Ashley raised the knife once more, plunging it in a spot near the first wound.

(Y/N) reached back and kicked Ashley in the face a few times, resulting in Ashley letting go of (Y/N)’s foot. Ashley groaned, standing up from the ground as (Y/N) clutched her leg, knowing it wouldn’t be wise to try and stand up in case of any tearing or excessive bleeding. It’s not like she could run far now.

Ashley stood over her, tears in her eyes as she did her best to see through them and fight the stinging. They both glared at each other, needing no words to show their distaste in one another.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Ashley spoke, glaring down at her.

“Not my fault he prefers me. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessive and insecure he could somewhat tolerate your sorry ass.” (Y/N) retorted, a pained smile on her face to piss Ashley off.

“You’re one to talk.” She chuckled. “Must be real nice to come home alone, pathetically lounging around lazily.”

“I’m lazy because of hard work. What do you do for a living other than blowing heads and giving it?” (Y/N) chuckled at her vulgar comment (one with lack of evidence, but it wasn't supposed to be a fact), a smile on her face as she observed Ashley. “Doesn’t take much to use that mouth of yours, considering how big it is from all that big shit you talk.”

If Ashley wasn’t mad now, she was absolutely livid now at (Y/N)’s insult. She bent down and grabbed a fistful of (Y/N)’s hair, grabbing a fistful of it as she dragged (Y/N) up. (Y/N) stood on her one leg, keeping any weight off her injured one as Ashley glared at her.

“I can’t wait to kill you. I’ll even bring your head to Andrew so he could see how pathetic you look with your eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out. Hell, I think I’ll cut that tongue out after I’m done with you, that way you can’t bother the devil with it.” She hissed.

“You gonna eat it after? Have your own tongue-action with me since you’re so jealous?” (Y/N) chuckled. “Or would you rather that with your own brother? That’s pretty disgusting, if you ask me. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention so you had to resort to your own brother.”

Yes, because (Y/N) definitely had a healthy relationship with her parents to say that...

“I would never eat you. You’re too salty, and that’s not just your attitude too.” Ashley smirked. “After I cut your tongue out and take your head to Andrew, I’ll give your soul to that demon for some vision, then I’ll dump your body in some alley for some homeless man to use.”

“Demon?” (Y/N) questioned. “Of course you’d have connections with demons.”

“What can I say?” Ashley smiled as a stabbing sensation hit (Y/N)’s stomach. “I get around.”

“Yeah…” (Y/N) groaned, a pained chuckle escaping her. “I can tell…”

Ashley took the knife out of (Y/N’s stomach, going to plunging again, but (Y/N) quickly used her nails and smashed them into Ashley’s eyes, kneeing Ashley with her injured leg since she couldn’t use her healthy once because she’d just fall once applying pressure to her injured leg.

Ashley let out a short scream at the feeling. Ashley tumbled backwards as (Y/N) followed, using her weight to hold Ashley down as Ashley thrashed about. Ashley tried to stab (Y/N) again, but (Y/N) grabbed her wrists, the two of them struggling for the knife.

“Let go!” Ashley shouted, one of her eyes covered by (Y/N)’s sharp thumb.

“You first!” (Y/N) retorted, knowing very well the both of them wouldn't give up as she moved her other hand to the knife, now having both of her hands to try and fight for the knife. (Y/N) ignored the stinging in her forearm from earlier’s slashing.

(Y/N) was able to grab the knife from Ashley’s hands after a bit of a struggle and a few small cuts on the finger. She held onto the blade tightly as Ashley tried to keep (Y/N)’s wrist steady. It was proven fruitless as the first stab hit Ashley’s chest, hitting bone. Ashley let out a choked sob, pain pooling out of her mouth and chest.

(Y/N) scoffed, a bit annoyed at Ashley's struggle. If Ashley would just keep still, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She was willing to make it quick, but Ashley’s squirming and thrashing around was only making her miss.

“Stop moving.” (Y/N) hissed, using her injured hand to hold Ashley still by her neck.

(Y/N) struck the knife down again, stabbing Ashley’s sternum. And again, she stabbed her chest, over and over as Ashley let out pained groans and small whimpers, doing her best to claw (Y/N)’s hands. Her hands weakened, her protests and strangled breaths shortening as her pulse weakened under (Y/N)’s hold while (Y/N)’s pulse and breaths only quickened, as if Ashley was giving her own life to her.

She kept stabbing...

She kept stabbing.

It was like she couldn’t control her hand, like she had no thought other than the echo in her ears.

Stab…

Stab.

She didn’t stop until her hand was soaked, too wet to hold the knife right. She realized she had been stabbing all the way down to the hilt, eight inches that was repeatedly stabbing into Ashley’s chest.

(Y/N) paused, staring down at Ashley’s face, both faces void of emotion and thought.

I did that. She realized.

A sick turning sensation lurked in her stomach, making her realize she was stabbed in an vital point. She dropped her knife, groaning as she hissed. She got up off Ashley’s dead body, crawling her way to her bathroom, making sure not to get any blood on her carpet. It would've been better for her if Ashley just kept the knife in her stomach, keeping the wound plugged in, but unfortunately Lady Luck seems to avoid (Y/N) any chance she can.

She opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a med-kit. Well, that’s one thing useful about being a nurse, you’re always prepared at home.

She opened the kit, but paused. She couldn’t just open up her stomach and stitch up the insides, but if she goes to the hospital like this she’d definitely get questioned. (Y/N) groaned, mulling over what she should do.

She didn’t mean to kill Ashley. Well, she did in self-defense, but she didn’t mean to do it so cruelly. It was almost like second-nature to harm her.

But she deserved it, didn’t she? She hurt Andrew, (Y/N) remembers that. Ashley made him jump, she’s the one that broke his legs and gave him internal bleeding in his head. (Y/N) made not know much about Ashley, but she knows how manipulative she is. She remembered hearing Ashley screaming at Andrew the first day she met Andrew. She remembered Ashley accusing Andrew of all the crimes he did; of course, he committed them, but she helped too, so she was still at fault.

The Graves siblings, even their name is fitting. Two siblings who put others in their graves, and now one is in their own.

(Y/N) couldn’t go to the police, not with this. It was self-defense, maybe with the intent of third-degree murder, a spur of the moment, nevertheless it was to protect herself even if she did get a bit carried away. She surely can’t just blame it all on stress or childhood neglect, she’d be a hypocrite.

She always refused to let her past get in the way of her future. The love she didn’t receive from her parents, she gave to herself. The support she never received from her parents, she gave to herself. She earned all her awards, her scholarships, her jobs, her money all on her own without any support, encouragement, or financial aid from her parents.

Her mother didn’t believe she could be a nurse. Her mother never really had any faith in her, but her mother never did stick around her long enough to bother learning who were daughter was.

“You’re far too apathetic and antisocial for that sort of thing, they'd be scared of you.” Her mother would say. “All you care about is yourself. You’d be fired within the first week for neglecting the kids..”

Ironic coming from her.

Her father didn’t want her to be a nurse either, not for pediatrics or adults.

“It’s just not a good idea. You’re too sensitive for such things. You couldn’t survive watching kids die everyday, that’s such a depressing job.” Her father would say. “You shouldn’t be a nurse in general. Adult men take advantage of caring nurses, it doesn’t help that you’re so... weak? You're just too innocent and pretty for that kind of work! It’s best you find something else. Do something that makes you happy!”

Yeah, she totally refuse to let her past get in her way... Her apartment was as void of color as her. She slept with plushies to cope with her loneliness. On bad days, she has no friends to call or parents who'd listen to her vent, so the stuffed animals listen to her instead. She doesn't ever have energy to eat or shower or clean, the only reason she does all those things is to keep herself somewhat healthy so she wouldn't draw any attention from others. She wouldn't want to be a bother to them over some measly emotions. She's dealt with depression practically her whole life, why suddenly indulge in change if it might worsen her condition.

She doesn't want to be happy, that would involve having to put energy into changing herself and her lifestyle, and all she wants to do is spend her energy hopping into bed and sleeping. She wasn't one to care for herself, she liked making other people happy.

Kids made her happy. Medicine made her happy. She loved working with kids, caring and nurturing for them like they were her own. She liked being the reason a kid could walk again, or talk, or play, or smile. She liked helping children, giving them the help they needed. She liked being able to change their lives, catch those early signs and prevent them from becoming herself; someone absolutely miserable, depressed, and hating herself. Hell, the only reason she hasn't killed herself was because she doesn't want to be a bother to other people.

She liked medicine. She liked studying medical advancements, all the new machines and inventions and vaccines and diseases and all! She liked learning about it all; medical procedures, illnesses and disorders, psychology facts, disorders, injuries, hell sometimes medicine could even dive into philosophy!

Medicine and kids made her happy because it was what she lacked as a child. She liked being a pediatric nurse, she liked giving kids the chance to receive help early on so they could be functional adults in life, so they couldn't end up like (Y/N); a mother who couldn't care about her, a misguided father, money being towards bills and education, no relationships or genuine connections or friendships with people, and no joy in life other than sleeping her days away. As a nurse, she could catch onto early symptoms for kids and be able to address the issues before it worsen; whether it'd be physical or mental health, that's why she's studying to be a pediatrician now.

But she can't be a pediatrician if she goes to jail. This act of self-defense was far too cruel and grotesque, the judges wouldn't believe that it was for self-defense, far too homicidal and beast-like with how she basically just slashed Ashley's ribcage open. No, she wouldn't win that court case at all. She'd lose her job, and she'd probably never be able to work in medical field ever! She needed to do something.

She put the med-kit back into her cabinet, instead she took off her shoe and grabbed her sock, plugging up her wound with it. Yes, it was very gross and she felt like gagging at this, but it was to insure she wouldn't bleed out. She had been stabbed in her stomach with an 8-inch knife, so no doubt there would be internal damage she couldn't patch up on her own. She used her other sock to plug in the hole on her right calf, plugging the wound up until it was stuffed despite the pain she felt digging her fingers into the wound. She put back on her shoes without her socks and stood up from the ground

She quickly got to work, grabbing two large black blankets. She wrapped up Ashley's body in both blankets, ensuring the blood wouldn't drip everywhere, and she dragged the body to her car. She put the body and knife in her trunk and limped back into her house, quickly mopping up the mess using hydrogen peroxide on her floors to completely get rid of all the blood. She put her phone on her charger at home, leaving it so the police couldn't track her location on her phone in case anything happens. She got in her car and drove, going further and further out of the city until a good distance away, going to the woods. She got the dead body and knife out of her car, dragging it a good ways into the dark woods before dropping it.

She couldn't leave the body in her apartment, and she couldn't just drop it off somewhere in the city when her DNA was under Ashley's fingernails when Ashley scratched her. She left the knife here too, she didn't want to keep a knife she almost got murdered with, and she didn't want to keep it as a trophy for her crimes either. Here in these woods, this is where the police will least likely find her and the murder weapon, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, (Y/N) will return and dig a grave for her, or maybe she'll luck out a wild animal will feast on her. Even then, nobody will probably miss her other than Andrew.

Jesus, what is she gonna tell Andrew? She can't just say she killed his sister! Even if he's a runaway criminal, she's one too now! He's probably not against murdering her, even if he doesn't like her better than the other nurses. I mean, she killed his sister, so it's only natural for him to kill her?

But, his sister was just a runaway, she was a criminal! Maybe there's no police looking for them, but still! (Y/N) was a nurse, she's saved plenty of lives, surely taking one can't be that bad? Especially if she took a wrongdoer's life?

Before she could turn around and walk out of the woods, she stopped, pausing. She had this nagging feeling to check Ashley’s pockets. It was like a gut instinct (or perhaps literally being gutted earlier) that told her to check. She got on the ground, undoing the blankets and checking Ashley’s pockets to sate this desire. She first found a gun in her waistband. (Y/N) took the gun, popping out the magazine to check how many rounds there were.

None, empty. Either Ashley found this gun with no bullets, or she already used them.

(Y/N) did some more digging and found a scalpel, a hospital scalpel from her work she could only assume. Perhaps Ashley was planning to kill (Y/N) with the small blade, before deciding to steal her kitchen knife instead. The bigger the better, right?

Finally, she looked in Ashley's pockets once more and found something in one of her pockets. Some black and red occult looking charm.

She remembered Ashley mentioning how she’d give a demon (Y/N)’s soul in exchange for a vision. Is this their charm that keeps them in contact, or in a contract together? Whatever it was, (Y/N) felt like she should keep it in case it was indeed something to a demon; she didn’t want it going into the wrong hands (as if she could talk). (Y/N) shoved the charm into her pocket, keeping the gun and scalpel now that it had her fingerprints, before turning around.

Did you see this coming, Ashley? (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to let a smug smirk form on her face.

She limped back out of the woods, hopping into her car and hiding the two weapons under her car seat away from view. She turned the engine on, speeding to the hospital and going ten above the speed limit. It wasn't good for her to be out for so long. She could live with her leg being injured so long as she didn't bleed out, but her stomach could definitely develop to internal bleeding, if not already due to how big that knife was. On her way there, she tried thinking of an alibi. This is a knife wound, so it's mandatory for the hospital staff to report this incident to the police. The police are going to ask her questions about what happened and such. (Y/N) doesn't want to come clean, if she does, her whole life would be ruined! She'd lose the only thing she has in her life that she genuinely cares about; her job. If she loses her job and education, she'd be completely lost in this world with absolutely no passions or interests, she might just develop an interest for putting herself in a grave instead and take her life.

She thought about her alibi, before cooking up a shitty one. It's the only one she has for a time like this. She can just say that she was driving to the small local store near her apartment complex after work (thus explaining her hospital scrubs), and when she walked out, she was harassed by a man so she fought him and escaped, then drove to the hospital to get medical assistance. She could say she didn't recognize the man, and that he wore a mask so she couldn't see what he looked like. The store she was thinking about just had their cameras stolen a week ago and they have't bother replacing them yet, so there would be no camera footage to confirm or deny this accusation. Her apartment complex is on a bad side of town too (the rent was cheap there), and their camera footage must not be any higher than a quality of a Nokia, so it most likely didn't catch Ashley sneaking into her apartment, or (Y/N) dragging something out out her apartment. Maybe she can pull this off!

Sure, it's a bad excuse, but what else does she have? This is the best she can come up with on short notice, especially with no witnesses (which is good), along with no camera footage to protect or challenge her word. They'd just have to believe her because what else can they do? She's obviously injured! People in big cities get stabbed all the time and sometimes the assaulters get away with it, maybe she can do this too!

(Y/N) got to the hospital entrance and quickly made sure to do a check in her car to make sure there was no DNA of Ashley's. She hopped out of the car and brushed off any dirt or hair or such on her, making sure her gun and scalpel were hidden under her car seat, before limping into the hospital lobby and getting inside of the ER waiting room.

The receptionist sat doing work on her computer before her eyes trailed to (Y/N).

“Are you okay?” they questioned as (Y/N) held onto her stomach, applying pressure to the sock.

“I got stabbed in the stomach and my calf. I’ve been bleeding for quite a while, I reckon I’ll pass out soon.” She explained.

The nurse nodded and handed her the paperwork to complete. (Y/N) always thought paperwork in the ER was stupid, but it was to help identify the patient and their insurance and all that important information; even in the brink of death, you need to do work. Pathetic, really. It truly does show something about society, whether it's for your own good or not, even if your writing is alienated due to all of your blood on the paper or your blurred vision making it hard to concentrate.

(Y/N) sped through the packets of papers and agreements, doing her best to not bleed onto the paper or the hospital chairs (why are the chairs made of cloth instead of leather anyways? At least leather can be washed easier).

(Y/N) gave the papers to the receptionist, who accepted it and gave it to one of the doctors at the back room. (Y/N) sat down and waited for a doctor to call her name. Her stomach and leg hurt badly, it hurt to breathe and to walk, and her wounds just kept throbbing, spilling more blood and soaking up her temporary sock-bandages. She’s definitely going to throw away these socks…

The hospital’s bright LED lights hurt her eyes, giving her a headache. Or maybe the headache was from blood loss? Who knows really, it just hurt to sit here and wait.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait too long before a nurse called her name. They helped her stand up from the chair, leading her to their office in quick fashion. They placed her down on the operating table, asking if she could remember her name, age, where she was, who the president was, etc.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N), 22 years old. I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife, along with my right calf and a laceration on my right arm.” She informed the nurse as they put on medical gloves.

A trauma surgeon came in with a tray of alcohol wipes, a medical needle and thread, a medical stapler, and syringe of anesthesia. (Y/N) resisted the urge to groan, she didn’t like needles, but she understood it would make the surgery much easier for her and them.

(Y/N) rolled up her sleeves hesitantly, feeling self-conscious about the old scars on her wrists despite the more important matters at hand. The surgeon ignored her scars as he gave her the shot.

The surgeon pulled up her shirt to show her stomach as the nurse cut a hole on (Y/N)’s pants for her leg, making her remember the make-shift bandages she had.

“I had to use what I had to stop the bleeding, so I used my socks.” She spoke for her lie.

She would’ve said more, but she decided it was best not to in case she accidentally messed up her alibi. She opted to stay quiet, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect so the doctor could begin the quick surgery.

When you wake up from surgery or an accident, you’d expect to see bright light, instead she only saw a dim light peeking through. She opened her eyes, waking up and looking around her.

There was a curtain next to her, the white curtain had a slit and moonlight poured out, barely lighting the room. Her left arm was hooked to a IV, the needle sticking into the crevice of her elbow. The needle was slowing flowing blood into her, causing her to shudder at the thought of a needle stuck inside her.

Her eyes trailed down to her right arm, seeing her arm covered in bandages. She picked up her sheets, seeing her leg was covered in bandages too. She moved her hospital gown up, seeing her stomach was covered with a medical patch and medical tape to hold it in place.

This is probably going to take some time to heal. (Y/N) thought, resisting the urge to groan.

How fun, she’s going to spend weekend off here in the hospital. Either that, or she’ll stay home bedridden.

There was a soft knock on her door, before it opened, showing one of the doctors from the emergency department of the hospital. She had never met any of the doctors or nurses here, they’re always busy and on their feet running around.

“Ms. (L/N)?” he questioned, smiling.

“That’s me.” She nodded. “Hello, sir.”

“Hey! Have you just woken up?” he questioned, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he walked over to her bedside, standing over her.

“Yes.” She confirmed.

“Okay.” He commented, then cleared his throat. “So, you’ve been asleep for 18 hours. Usually anesthesia wears off in a few hours and you would wake up from some pain, but you stayed asleep for quite some time.” He spoke, flipping a page threw his papers clamped on his clipboard. “However, you could’ve been exhausted given you hadn’t slept because you were working earlier. Your medical history could’ve also helped contribute to that—hypersomnia and all.”

Yes, the condition she’s almost positive her mother gave her. Being locked in that small room as a toddler really did affect her sleep patterns and routine. There wasn’t much to do in that dark room other than cry, watch old cartoon re-runs a thousand times, and sleep—she chose the latter.

“Yeah, sorry.” She muttered, not sorry at all but still feeling the need to apologize.

“No worries. So, we did report your case to local authorities since it was a stabbing; you should know, hospital procedure and all.” The doctor spoke as (Y/N) nodding, knowing very well the protocol. “Great. So, there’s actually some officers here to question you about the incident. Are you fine with that?”

She nodded, ignoring her nerves that went haywire at the thought of talking to the police. So soon after her crime too!

“Okay, so before they come in. Let me explain to you really quick what’s going on.” He spoke, clearing his throat. “So you’re going to stay overnight, well more so over day since it’s 3 A.M. but we’ll look after you. So we stapled up your small intestine, and we stapled the skin of your stomach so that it wouldn’t rip or come undone in a large area like stitches would, along with your right calf. Your right arm has stitches due to how tight the skin is along with how deep the wound was. After two week, you can come back and we’ll remove the staples off your stomach and the sutures. For the next two weeks, you need to eat soft foods and liquids such as soups, breads, puddings, all that."

“That sounds fine.” She nodded.

“Sweet. So, before they come in, is there anything you want or need? Like, do you need to use the bathroom? Or are you hungry or thirsty?” he questioned.

“No, I’m fine.” she politely denied.

She’d rather not drink or eat anything, she felt like throwing up at the moment. She really didn’t feel like getting up and walking to the bathroom with an injured foot at the moment.

“Okay. I’ll let the officers in.” The doctor nodded, writing a few notes on his clipboard before heading towards the door.

He opened the door and used his hand to call the officers over. He left the door open as the officer walked in, a female and a male, who walked to (Y/N)’s bedside holding a notepad.

“Hello, Ms. (L/N), right?” the female smiled. “I’m Officer Jenny and this is my partner, Officer Dixon. We have a few questions for you.”

“Nice to meet you.” (Y/N) spoke, flashing the officers a polite smile.

“So, you’ve been admitted into the hospital for a stabbing, correct?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“That’s correct, ma’am.” (Y/N) nodded.

“When and where did you get stabbed?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“Well, I got stabbed in my stomach by a knife. When I fought them off, they slashed my right arm and they stabbed my right calf.” (Y/N) explained, mentally going over her words carefully as Officer Dixon wrote the information in his notepad.

“And when did this take place?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“Well, it was last night when I got off my shift. I work here at this hospital actually in the pediatric branch.” She added.

She was about to go on about her grocery store alibi, but paused. The timeframe won’t match. She took forever to get to the hospital after the stabbing so that she could clean her apartment, dispose of Ashley’s body, and finally get to the hospital. She can’t use the grocery store alibi since not only would be make no sense for her to get stabbed someplace where the cameras are coincidentally shut down, but none of the store employees would mention seeing her when they get questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t help that she decided to drive to the hospital bleeding instead of telling the store to call 911 or herself calling 911.

Her alibi is unreliable now, so she needs to quickly act now and change it while acting normal and resist hesitating. The officers’ body-cams would catch their interaction and it would be evaluated by licensed psychiatrists, looking out for any holes in the story, for how her words flow, her vocal patterns, her body language. The alibi is now a death trap.

“After my shift, I drove back to my apartment and went on a walk in a park. Perhaps 7 P.M, so it was dark because of it being November and all.” She explained. “The park was Pacific North Satellite park.” She added, a park not too far from her apartment complex.

“I didn’t bother changing out of my work scrubs because I was just going to shower when I got back to my apartment, and I had left my phone on the charger at home. I was walking down the path listening to nature when I heard footsteps in front of me. Someone came up to me with their hands in their hoodie pocket, a black hoodie.” She explained, lying her way through the story. “They walked past me and quickly slashed my right arm… and… they grabbed my arm and stabbed me in the stomach with their knife… and then when I tried to get away… they knocked me down and stabbed my right calf.” She spoke, pausing her words every now and then to appear distressed as she faked reliving the moment. "I ran back to my apartment, plugged up the most severe wounds with my socks, and drove to the hospital since it wasn't too far and I didn't have my phone to call the police or ambulance. It was late at night, so there wasn't anyone around to ask for help, and I didn't want to be trapped in my apartment in case they decided to follow me...

“Do you know who they were? Or did you catch what their face looked like?” Officer Jenny questioned as Office Dixon’s blurred, hastily writing down everything he heard.

“No.” (Y/N) shook her head. “They had a black hoodie with their hood up. They had grey jeans too. They were perhaps around 5’6 tall…” she lied. “I’m unsure of their gender, but I think they were male.”

The most common description of a killer, or stereotypical when comparing to Ted Bundy or Jeffery Dahmer. With so little information, it’d be pretty hard to try and identify someone, especially someone who doesn’t exist (but of course, only [Y/N] knows that).

“Do you think there could’ve been a specific motive or something you provoked?” Officer Jenny questioned, her question almost making (Y/N) scoff.

Provoke? Provoke? How the hell could I have provoke them? (Y/N) thought, almost forgetting her alibi was still a lie.

Sometimes she can even lie to herself with how scarily believable her lies are.

But even if this mysterious murderer she made up didn't have a motive, did Ashley have one? It made her wonder, did Ashley really kill her because she was hated her being Andrew’s nurse? Even then, how the hell did she find out who she was, or even why? Ashley had never seen (Y/N) and Andrew together, at least not without her knowledge.

“No, ma’am. I’m unsure why, and I don’t believe I provoked them.” (Y/N) answered.

“Is there any other information you’d like to tell us?” Officer Jenny questioned.

“No.” (Y/N) answered.

Short and sweet, it’s best to leave it all like this.

“Well, if you ever remember anything or have any questions, make sure to call the department.” Officer Jenny spoke. “If we find any information or such, we’ll give you a call.”

“If we find who done it, do you want to press charges?” Officer Dixon questioned, causing (Y/N) to pause and think.

“No. The process is too time-consuming, besides, I doubt they tried to kill me without a reason.” (Y/N) spoke.

Everything happens for a reason, after all. It’s logical to believe so.

(Y/N) had never believed in fate or destiny, she had always believed everything happens for a reason. She hated the belief of something out of her reach trying to control her or her life. She’d rather choose what she wants to do, not something like fate. (Y/N) believes what she sees, so she doesn’t believe anything that isn’t backed up with facts or evidence.

Ashley tried killing (Y/N) for a reason, she said it herself. She'll take the dead woman's word on it since it came from her mouth.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you would’ve just stayed away from Andrew.” Her words rang in (Y/N)'s head.

The audacity of some people, does Ashley truly believe she can control who Andrew sees? It’s not like there was anything wrong with Andrew and (Y/N)’s relationship, they were simply nurse and patient, nothing more and nothing less. Who does Ashley believe she is trying to control Andrew? She doesn’t have his heart, his brain, his body, his thoughts, his mouth, his eyes. He could do whatever he pleases and Ashley shouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Well, she can’t now. (Y/N) thought, holding back a chuckle.

"Are you sure, miss?” Officer Dixon questioned, surprised.

“I’m sure. Maybe they had a bad day or something.” (Y/N) shrugged.

“But you don’t just stab anyone on a bad day, this could be serious.” Officer Jenny spoke, her voice a little harsh compared to her gentle treatment earlier.

Officer Jenny seems to not like having a killer run around, or have about zero clues.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” (Y/N) sighed. "I'm very tired and I wish to rest.

“The town next to us, they had a killing in a park too. The victim was a man, he was shot, multiple bullets in his chest.” Officer Jenny spoke quickly, hoping the information could bring some details out of the injured woman. “You happened to be a park too, perhaps this was the same guy! We need as much information as we can. Please miss (L/N), we’re relying on you.”

“I’m sorry, but I truly don’t know. I don’t have anymore information to give to you.” (Y/N) sighed.

Officer Jenny’s face hardened as Officer Dixon closed his notepad.

“Very well. We’ll contact you in case we find any details.” Officer Dixon spoke, nodding his head down in respect and farewell, before telling Officer Jenny with his eyes that it was time to go.

“Get well soon, miss…” Officer Jenny sighed, walking out of the room with her partner.

Well, I forgot that part… (Y/N) thought, letting out a breath of relief.

The park killer from the next door town, right, how could she forget? The victim was a man was found dead on the sidewalk, a clean knife nearby him, no fingerprints. The man had a hood, sunglasses, and gloves; a strange attire to walk around in at night, especially the sunglasses part. He died with six bullet wounds in his chest, the news said. The murder was actually a few days ago, maybe even a week ago. Nevertheless, (Y/N) could bet it was Ashley and Andrew. Ashley had that empty gun on her, which was now under (Y/N)’s car seat.

(Y/N) turned her head to the window once the police left. She reached over and opened up the curtains, looking up at the stars, or what she could see. Light pollution in the city is a major pain, you can’t even enjoy nature now thanks to humans.

(Y/N) looked at the lights outside of the window, it’s the only thing semi-interesting to look at in a hospital bed. She didn’t want to turn on the TV, she knew it was all just re-runs of family-friendly movies like High School Musical or the local news. Unfortunately, hospitals don’t really have any good channels to watch.

It’s only for one day. (Y/N) thought.

She just had to deal with this for one day, then she could get back home and sleep. Despite always being so tired, she liked to work. The time she’d take to heal would feel like torture to her. Her depression made her feel a sense of worthlessness doing nothing, so being bedridden is just going to throw her in a depressive state. Usually she’d just get up and work overtime when she feels like this, but she really can’t if she’s injured.

Even though she has a reason to be lazing around in bed all day, she's not very happy about it. It's at times like these she wished she had some sort of entertainment in life, or at least friends, people she considered real friends. She had acquaintances growing up, but they just never really did it for her.

The people she hung around with was only for school, she never bothered hanging out with them outside of school that way she could focus on her studies. Besides, they weren't important people to her, she only talked with them because they had conversed with her first, and it gave her something to pass time with at school. She always did have that closed-off demeanor, it surprised her whole family when she decided she wanted to be a pediatric nurse, and later a pediatrician.

(Y/N) stared at the window in deep thought, thinking.

Maybe she could call her dad. The last time she called him was a month ago, to which she had to leave a voicemail... she never did receive a call back. And after that, she called on her birthday four months... to which she's still waiting for a call back.

Well, maybe he's just busy. He has a job and a life outside of his daughter, surely he'll call back eventually. She figured.

If she had her phone on her, she'd call and leave another voicemail for him to let him know he's okay.

Wait, what's the point in calling? She's fine, and she hadn't called him of her condition, so what's the point in calling and telling him that she's still alive? Even if he did answer, what will he say other than a "that's good. I'm glad you're okay. I have to get back to work now."

If there's no point calling her dad, then there's certainly no point in calling her mom, for obvious reasons.

(Y/N) groaned, hitting her head back against the pillow, before letting out a pained whine. Her head pounded terribly, followed by a slight ringing in her ears and a second of her vision blurring. Her right arm shot up to help soothe her head, before she let out a hiss, the movement of her arm causing a sharp pain to shoot up it.

"This sucks..." she complained, a pout making way onto her lips.

Before she could wallow in her sorrows any further, the door opened, gaining her attention. She turned her head, seeing a familiar man in a wheelchair.

"Andrew?" she questioned, surprised.

"Hey." He greeted, flashing a smile at her.

(Y/N) internally cringed at the sight of him, not that he was bad-looking or anything, but she wasn't expecting to see him so soon after what she's done.

"What are you doing here in the emergency department?" (Y/N) questioned, not bothering if the question sound a bit rude or not; she'll just blame it on the headache if he asks.

"I heard from the nurses that you got injured." Andrew explained, rolling his wheelchair up to her bedside.

"A nurse told you I was here?" (Y/N) questioned, confused.

Well, that's against hospital policy, giving away patient information like that to just anyone. It made her curious who from the nightshift had the audacity to tell him.

"Who told you?" (Y/N) questioned.

"Eh, I don't know. That nurse I had before you." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly, not bothering to remember the name. "It was something something. Started with a P. Maybe it was Pen, or Penny? Or was it Nancy? It doesn't really matter."

"Penelope?" (Y/N) smiled, almost giggling at his poor attempt to remember the nurse's name.

Right, makes sense. Penelope was Andrew's nurse before (Y/N), and Penelope seems to see (Y/N) as a friend, so she probably questioned Doctor Ryan where (Y/N) was. Doctor Ryan must've been informed as soon as he entered the office, considering he wasn't going to be able to teach (Y/N) for a few nights until she got better.

However, she felt a little happy that he couldn't remember Penelope's name (especially after [Y/N]'s little jealous episode from earlier at the thought of Penelope and Andrew being together. Obviously because she just enjoyed having Andrew as a patient, nothing more).

"Yeah, maybe that was her name?" he hummed, not bothering to think back if it was actually that nurse or not.

Yes, it was Penelope, he might not bother to remember her name, but he remembers her face from earlier when he and (Y/N) had gone to the staff room and Penelope was acting strange. He also remembered how tight and uncomfortable she had done his bandages on his broken ankles, much different compared to (Y/N)'s soft hands and nurturing personality.

"She shouldn't be giving away information like that." (Y/N) sighed, chuckling softly. "But thank you for coming."

It was a little heartwarming to know at least someone cared about her. Even if her parents did, at least her co-worker and close acquaintances did, even reserved patients such as Andrew were worried about her!

"So, what brought you over here? Did you have a question, or perhaps you need your bandages changed?" (Y/N) questioned, observing his body up and down to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or if he needed any assistance.

"No... I just... wanted to see for myself, I guess..." he muttered, looking away from her eyes as he resisted the urge to squirm under her gaze. "I heard you got hurt pretty bad, so I got curious..."

"You sure you didn't just miss me?" she teased, trying to brightened up or at least lightened the mood into a more comfortable atmosphere.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." He chuckled, her words succeeding in her goal as they both smiled at each other.

His smile softened, his eyes glazing over, seeming to be lost in thought. He seemed unsure of himself, before he just sighed.

"So... what happened?" he questioned. "If you don't mind me asking."

Her own smile faltered, doing her best to remain neutral and not puke her guts out as visions of stabbing Ashley's lifeless body took over her mind, hearing each explicit and disturbing wet splash as her hands slowly started to coat with blood from how violently she was pushing her knife into Ashley's chest, down to the hilt.

"I got attacked..." she spoke vaguely, clearing her throat awkwardly as she kept her eyes on him to see if he would believe her.

"Do you know by who?" Andrew questioned.

"No." She spoke quickly, internally cringing at how defensive her tone sounded.

Andrew's gaze hardened, his intuition not believing her. Of course he wouldn't believe her, living with Ashley basically his whole life had practically made him become a human lie detector. Before he could speak about the matter, she spoke up.

"Can you check on Hailey for me please? She was a bit down earlier today, surely you can cheer her up for me? Just don't mention my current condition to her, please." (Y/N) requested, sounding more of a pathetic demand and excuse to get him to leave her alone.

Andrew looked hesitant to leave her, before he sighed, nodding his head. "Yeah, sure..." he grumbled.

"Thank you." She hummed, giving him a false smile.

They had a moment to themselves, silently staring at each other, before Andrew turned his wheelchair around and rolled out of the room, closing the door behind him. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief once she was alone, glad to have avoided the tough subject.

Maybe she'll tell him one day, once she gets to know him better and can be certain he wouldn't kill her for it.

She ignored the pain as she squirmed into a comfortable position to sleep in. She needed the rest, and sleep is the body's natural way of healing after her. Her eyes trailed to the curtains, watching the cars on the road zoom past the hospitals and watching as some lights started to shut off, night owls getting ready for bed too just like her.

She'll call her parents as soon as she gets out of the hospital, even if they've probably not heard the news or care about it, she still wants some sort of closure from her parents. Maybe they'll even take pity on her and stay on the phone for a bit, ask how she's doing, or what she's doing now.

Sounds like a plan. (Y/N) thought, closing her eyes as she ignored her body's pain, waiting for sleep to overtake her.

I know there hasn't been much of any Andrew and reader moments, but chapter 5 will have plenty, these past chapters have just been plot and character-development and such!

My next series will be a Yandere! Hitoshi Shinso x Yandere! Fem! Reader, so keep watch for that!

To the Ashley fans, I'm sorry for what I've done.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, current chapter, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

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jayparked · 9 days ago

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jayparked's 1k follower drabble celebration event!

as a big thank you for hitting this milestone i wanted to do an event for my followers :)

please send me an ask with one or two members from enhypen (except riki) and one or two numbers from the list below! after one each prompt has been claimed i will be crossing them out!

this event is nsfw so mdni

i got this list of nsfw prompts from this post. i did remove and adjust some of the prompts so this list is slightly different than the original posters!

1.“So how do you want me to fuck you?” 2. “I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.” 3. “That’s sweet and all but do they touch you the way I touch you? Fuck you the way I fuck you? Mm, yeah, didn’t think so.” 4. Softly, “Want you to fuck me like you mean it.” 5. “Let me take care of you. I’ll do the work.” 6. “Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” 7. “Can I…can I touch you?” 8. “My God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.” 9. “Can I please touch myself?” 10. “Wanna see how you look when you come undone under me.” 11. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Just trust me.” 12. “You sound/taste/feel/look so fucking good.” 13. “Oh God, you feel amazing, baby.” 14. A whispered “Please” slipping out of kiss bitten lips. 15. “You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.” 16. “You. Me. Bed. Now.” 17. “Is this okay?” 18. “How much do you want this?” 19. “Doing so good for me, sweetheart.” 20. “Shh, just a little more…” 21. “You’re taking me so well, baby.” 22. “Say please.” 23. “Tell me how you want me.” 24 Soft whines and whimpers; held back noises because they don’t want anyone else hearing them; a plea for more without the use of words. 25. “Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.”

26. “I wanna hear you beg for it" 27. “Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.” 28. “P-please just”—a sob—“I just need you to fuck me.” 29. “Need/want you in me.” 30. “Beg and maybe I’ll think about it.” 31. “Not so fast, bun.” 32. “So…You touch yourself to the thought of me? I’d like to see that.” 33. “Want your fingers in me.” 34. “Now, why don’t we teach you a lesson?” 35. “Touch yourself for me.” 36. “I wanna taste you on my lips again.” 37. It’s the gentle and soft touches which send shivers skittering down their spine. 38. “Rough or gentle?” 39. “Fuck, look at you right now…” 40. “You’re really messing with my head here.” 41. “Fuck, just touch me already! Just—do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.” 42. “Don’t wanna come until I feel you in me.” 43. “All yours. Only yours.” 44. “How about we put that pretty mouth of yours into good use, hm?” 45. “I want you to say my name like that again.” 46. “Aren’t you desperate?” 47. “Only I get to ruin you like this, you hear me?” 48. “Only I get to touch you like this, okay?” 49. “Patience, love. We’re getting there.” 50. “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”

51. “Be good for me.” 52. “You want to come?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?” 53. “You like that, don’t you?” 54. “Let’s make your thoughts a reality, yeah?” 55. “I’ll fuck you so good, I promise.” 56. “I can taste myself on your lips and it’s messing me up real bad.” 57. “You look like a mess and I love it, because I’m the one who made you like this.” 58. “You’ve got me all hot and bothered.” 59. “You don’t get to touch yourself until I say so.” 60. “Always so needy for me, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself, can you?” 61. “Please let me come.” 62. “I-I promise I’ll be good.” 63. “How are you feeling?” 64. “God, you feel so good around me.” 65. “So wet/hard for me already, huh?” 66. “Mm, always so impatient for me, aren’t you?” 67. “Do I turn you on that much?” 68. “Let me ride you.” 69. “Behave.” 70. “F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that.” 71. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone more.” 72. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” 73. “Stop fucking teasing me and get to it already.” 74. “Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now…” 75. “Th-There are people outside this door—” “Well, this isn’t about them, is it?”

76. “Look at you, squirming under me, all flushed and pretty looking. Can’t even take a little teasing, can you?” 77. “Yeah, but they don’t fuck you the way you deserved to be fucked, do they?” 78. “Might I remind you that these walls aren’t sound proof.” 79. A softly exhaled, “I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.” 80. “Do you know how much I love seeing you like this?” 81. “Gonna make sure you don’t forget about me or tonight.” 82. “Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?” 83. In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.” 84. “But you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” “I… That’s not true.” 85. “Try not to be so noisy, yeah?” 86. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?” 87. “Lift your hips up for me.” 88. “Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re bossy.” 89. “Look at you, coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 90. “I want to be the one fucking you this time.” 91. “Sweetheart, you’re so responsive to my touch.” 92. “I think you’d look even better under me.” 93. “Want you to ruin me.” 94. “Do whatever you want with me.” 95. “Just sit on my fucking face already.” 96. “Who gave you permission to touch yourself?” 97. “What did I just say?” 98. “You feel so fucking good in me.” 99. “You can have all of me if that’s what you want.” 100. “Baby—shit—I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed like this.”

101. “Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?” “Okay.” 102. “S-Stop leaving marks on my neck. I have a presentation first thing in the morning.” “Then I get to leave marks anywhere below the neck?” 103. “Let me make you feel good this time?” 104. “You only get to watch.” “B-but—” “No buts, sweetheart.” 105. “I’d fuck you right here, right now, if I could.” 106. “Let’s take it back to my place.” 107. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?” 108. “You look so cute like this, you know?” “Shut the fuck up and just fuck me already.” 109. “Why’d you stop?” “Because you sounded too fucking good and so I had like, a moment.” 110. “Eyes on me at all times, sweetheart.” 111. “Spread your legs for me.” … “Spread them wider.” 112. Hands firm on their thighs, keeping them from snapping them shut. 113. A whispered, “Then come for me,” right next to their ear after they beg for release 114. “I want you in the most sinful ways possible.” 115. “I want you to touch me like I’m the only thing you could ever want.” 116. “Can’t— can’t you go faster than this?” 117. “You like messing with my head, don’t you?” “Only because it clearly turns you on.” 118. “Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don’t even know.” 119. “Don’t make too many noises or we’ll get caught.” “That’s part of the thrill.” 120. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly.”

thank you again for all of your support ♡ masterlist

#jayparked 1k drabble event #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #heeseung hard hours #jay hard hours #jake hard hours #sunghoon hard hours #sunoo hard hours #jungwon hard hours #enhypen ask game #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x y/n

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whoreforsexymen · 3 days ago

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SMUT | One-Liner Prompt List

Pairings: Anyone x Reader

Pronouns: Mix of GN!, Fem!Pronouns, etc. Will happily make any prompt request specific to your preferences 🤍

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked!

Notes: Please feel free to send submissions using one or more of these!! 🤍 I can’t wait to see what characters, prompt combos, and ideas you guys come up with!!

Will be updating this list as I come up with more, or will be adding more parts. If you wanna see specifically themed prompt lists, lmk in my ask box!!!!

Will be creating a fluff list, too. Stay tuned 🤍

REQUEST/SUBMISSION INFO

1. “Stop looking at me like that or else I’m gonna cum too fast.”

2. “Don’t act like you didn’t want to end up under me like this.”

3. “Ooh. The cat’s got claws~”

4. “No, no— Don’t let little ol’ me stop you.”

5. “No. Don’t take those off. Those stay on.”

6. “You didn’t seriously think I was gonna let you cum… Did you?”

7. “I’d rather watch you take something other than whiskey down your throat.” “Oh yeah? Like what?”

8. “Don’t mock me while I’m fucking you.”

9. “That’s a bold decision, considering how I’m balls deep in you right now.”

10. “Patience, love. Good girls/boys are patient.”

11. “Lousy manners won’t get you very far. Now. Try saying ‘please’?”

12. “I’d spank you but I think you’d enjoy it too much for it to be reprimanding.”

13. “It really is such a shame that you can’t tell me what you want with a mouth so full of my cock.”

14. “If you want my cock you’re gonna have to do a better job of convincing me.”

15. “Watch your tone. Don’t make me put you in your place.”

16. “Crawl.”

17. “Sorry, love, it’s hard to understand you with your face buried in the pillows like that.”

18. “Shut up and fuck me already.”

19. “Careful love, or I might just eat you alive before you can leave.”

20. “You’re just dripping, aren’t you? How bad are you aching for me to fuck you, huh?”

21. “Shut up and take my fuckin’ cock.”

22. “Then I guess I’ll just fuck you up against the window, hmm? Make everybody watch. Since you clearly want an audience so bad, cause you can’t stay quiet.”

23. “You’re pretty demanding for a brat who’s done nothing to earn the right to make demands.”

24. “You talk such a big game for someone who can’t even put two words together when I’m fucking them.”

25. “If your eyes move from mine even once, I’m leaving. And I won’t come back. I’ll leave you here all alone. Aching. Begging.”

26. “You call that begging? Tsk tsk. You can do better than that.”

27. “You call that moaning? Tsk tsk. You can moan better than that.”

28. “You call that crawling? Tsk tsk. You can crawl better than that.”

29. “I won’t even consider fucking you unless you cum all over my boots first. Show me how bad you want it.”

30. “Lick it up.”

31. “Slow.”

32. “Easy.”

33. “Careful, little mouse. Keep talkin’ like that and I might just have to teach you a thing or two about respect.”

34. “That’s not nearly desperate enough.”

35. “Did I hear a please? My. You’re being so polite for once.”

36. “You’re being so obedient.”

37. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

38. “Don’t make me come over there.”

39. “I’m not pulling out. Want you full of my cum. Want to see that shit dripping out of you by the time I’m through with you.”

40. “So that’s why you had such an attitude, eh? Just needed a good fucking to pacify you?”

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airaibunny · 1 year ago

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GENERAL SMUT PROMPTS

1. “i need you, right here/now”

2. “louder/quieter”

3. “i dont care who’s outside”

4. “do you want them to hear?”

5. “what if i dont?”

6. “make me”

7. “you don’t get to tell me what to do”

8. “that’s strike 1/2/3”

9. “if you stop, i’ll stop”

10. “no more, please, i can’t”

11. “where are your manners?”

12. “what did you say?”

13. “try again”

14. “but the cameras” - “they can’t see us from this angle, if you can stay still”

15. “you don’t get to touch”

16. “i’m begging you, touch me, please”

17. “beg for it”

18. “i said no”

19. “stop pushing, it wont end well”

20. “you look so fucking hot right now”

21. “you don’t need anything, you want it”

22. “say it”

23. “use your words”

24. “i can’t understand you”

25. “i can’t read your mind”

26. “could he/she do it better?”

27. “do you wish it was *name* touching you right now?”

28. “play with me”

29. “you’re such a needy girl”

30. “i don’t think your stage outfits cover that”

31. “let me focus”

32. “sluts don’t get to make requests”

33. “what happened? you wanted this so bad five minutes ago”

34. “stop talking”

35. “did i give you permission to talk?”

36. “you don’t understand how angry i am right now”

37. “you’re fucking soaked”

38. “you make me so wet”

39. “why are you already squirming”

40. “can i ask you for something?”

41. “please don’t stop”

42. “please don’t think i’m weird for this”

43. “i’ve been waiting all day”

44. “does that turn you on?”

45. “i need your fingers”

46. “i want you to fuck me”

47. “do it like you mean it”

48. “scream my name while you cum”

49. “call me mommy”

50. “touch yourself, i want to watch”

51. “come here, now.”

52. “on your knees”

53. “turn around”

54. “bend over”

55. “spread your legs/spread your legs further”

56. “you can barely speak, so cute”

57. “you’re so flushed, pretty girl”

58. “sit on my thigh/face/etc”

59. “lift up your leg”

60. “i’m bored, let’s play”

61. “i can see you staring at my tits/thigh/ass”

62. “if you make me/if i have to stop this car, im going to make sure you can’t walk out of it without my help”

63. “harder”

64. “let me do it”

65. “i didnt mean to, im sorry”

66. “dont cum until i tell you to”

67. “what if i just leave you here, wet and needy”

68. “what’s the safe word? you’re going to need it”

69. “what about you?”

70. “it’s my turn now”

71. “i didn’t mean to call you that, i’m sorry”

72. “you look so pretty on your knees”

73. “what are you going to do? punish me?”

74. “i think i deserve a reward”

75. “your *body part* are/is so pretty”

76. “i really don’t care that we’re in public”

77. “keep it up, you won’t like the situation you end up in”

78. “who do you think you are?”

79. “spank me”

80. “choke me”

81. “bite me”

82. “no, don’t go”

83. “you can practice on me”

84. “this is a one time thing”

85. “i thought you said it was a one time thing?”

86. “we can’t do this”

87. “i ordered us something”

88. “that looks too big”

89. “are you comfortable?”

90. “grab the handcuffs and come back here”

91. “you bought a vibrator?”

92. “how do i look?”

93. “you taste so sweet”

94. “i’m/it’s all over your chin”

95. “do you want to try?”

96. “you’re so cute”

97. “do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

98. “why are you being so shy? it’s not like i haven’t already seen all of you”

99. “can we use a toy?”

100. “can i use a toy on you?”

101. “good girl, keep going/just like that”

102. “you’re doing such a good job”

103. “i’m so proud of you”

104. “nobody can know about this, okay?”

105. “how are you so close already?”

106. “i can see how wet you are through your shorts”

107. “can you be quick?”

108. “please, i’ll finish fast”

109. “use your mouth”

110. “why do you get so shy when i use that word?”

111. “i love your tits/ass/etc”

112. “where do you want me to touch you?” - “down there…” - “say the word”

113. “stop teasing me”

114. “i like it when you’re mad”

115. “punish me”

116. “are you going to stop me?”

117. “on the counter/table/etc?”

118. “you’re the only one that gets to touch”

119. “have you seen the things the the fans write about you and *other member*?”

120. “i don’t care what the fans think”

121. “i really need to finish this”

122. “this is exactly how i imagined it”

123. “is that my shirt/underwear/etc?”

124. “everyone else is gone”

125. “fuck, i wish this room was soundproof”

126. “shut up”

127. “relax, angel”

128. “keep doing that, please”

129. “you feel so good”

130. “your skin is so soft”

131. “kiss/touch me, everywhere”

132. “no, you started this, now you’re going to finish it”

133. “pull my hair”

134. “open your mouth”

135. “clean my fingers, this is your mess”

136. “you’re such a messy girl”

137. “why are you so hot”

138. “fuck, i love you so much”

139. “take off your underwear” - “but, there’s other people here” - “they won’t see you, there’s an entire table here”

140. “you’re so gorgeous”

141. “open your eyes”

142. “look at me while you cum”

143. “do you want me to use my fingers/mouth?”

144. “i want you to keep going, forever”

145. “do you want to join me”

146. “you’re not allowed to touch”

147. “bad girls/sluts don’t get to cum”

148. “can you tell me what you did wrong?”

149. “explain what you did, if you don’t finish before you cum, you don’t get to finish again for the rest of the night”

150. “you’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “i’m all yours”

151. “you’re such a fucking slut/whore/cunt”

152. “how bad do you want it?”

153. “make me cry”

154. “ruin me”

155. “i want to do so many things to you”

156. “you look amazing, really, but i think i prefer the dress on the floor”

157. “i need you”

158. “if you ever pull a stunt like that again, i won’t wait until we get to our bedroom”

159. “say that again, i dare you”

160. “it’s too late for this” - “you don’t have to do anything, just stay laying down”

161. “what does this make us?”

162. “i love making you so flustered, it’s so cute”

163. “do you like it when i touch right here?”

164. “can you stay quiet if i take this call?”

165. “we could get kicked out for this”

166. “don’t make me say it, you know what i want”

167. “let me eat you out while you do that”

168. “can you teach me?”

169. “can i call you mommy?”

170. “what would the others think of this? their innocent little maknae being such a whore”

171. “shower with me”

172. “put your leg over my shoulder”

173. “there’s no one else here, be louder”

174. “look what you did”

175. “i want to taste you”

176. “i’m going to fuck you against the windows, i want everyone to see how good you are”

177. “stop being gentle”

178. “i don’t care what you do, just touch me”

179. “i want to fuck you so bad”

180. “i want to feel you, inside”

181. “i promise i’ll be good, just please…”

182. “you can’t leave marks”

183. “you’re not going to fall, i’ve got you”

184. “we are not doing this standing, there’s a bed right there”

185. “do you like it when i spank you right there?”

186. “stop moving on your own, you’ll take what i give you”

187. “use my thigh”

188. “if you hate me so much, why are you letting me do this?”

189. “you’re really telling me to stop while both of your hands are in my shirt?”

190. “i still hate you”

191. “this is just sex, no strings”

192. “fuck you” - “well, that’s what we’re doing isn’t it?”

193. “you looked so hot out there”

194. “you can take it like a good girl, right?”

195. “swallow”

196. “i’ll untie you if you’re good”

197. “you heard me”

198. “that was a nice way to wake up”

199. “i want to make a mess of you”

200. “breathe, please”

201. “take it like a good girl”

202. “why don’t you make it up to me?”

203. “you think your begging is going to change my mind?”

204. “i don’t care that you’re sorry”

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dreamersparacosm · 2 years ago

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austin butler - clumsy

warnings ; none

prompt ; in which your celebrity crush causes you to become a flustered, blubbering mess.

a/n ; a little something fun i wrote during the fall but never published! it’s basically anxious!reader and honestly how I imagine myself reacting to meeting aus so enjoy xoxo

Okay, don’t panic.

Do not panic.

It’s just a man. A man with blonde, curly locks, blue eyes, over 6 feet tall… but still, a man. Nothing special. You could probably find ten of him walking down Rodeo Drive.

Except that’s probably not true either.

It is Austin Butler, after all.

You hike the tail of your dress higher as you descend up the stairs to the red carpet, inhaling as much oxygen as possible to tame your nerves. It does nothing for you beside provide a placebo effect of calmness. Your publicist, Jane, stands next to you with her eyebrows furrowed in permanent worry, a crinkle she’s had since the day she took you on. “[Y/N], did you get a chance to look at your seating arrangement?”

“Uh, no, not yet,” You respond slowly, wincing slightly as you brace yourself for her reaction. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning towards you.

“You know what, that’s fine, sweets. Just go stand on the carpet so we can take these pictures,” She goes back to her clipboard full of tedious things like timing and interviewers and stupid seating arrangements, and you’re trying to stay focused, but how can you do that when Austin Butler is standing 8 feet away from you, posing on the red carpet?

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling.

Whoever keeps leaving his shirts unbuttoned is a menace to society and needs to be locked away for endangerment to the general public.

This whole idiotic schoolgirl crush began relatively long ago, when he was still deeply in love with Vanessa Hudgens and playing a teen heartthrob on The Carrie Diaries. You weren’t even famous at that point, just a mediocre commercial actress trying to get her big break. Once you finally booked your first big role, the crush faded away (only the tiniest amount) but that all came crashing down like an avalanche when you saw Elvis with your best friend.

They probably could’ve posted the entire movie on a porn website and made the same amount of money. And, thus, your crush ensued, full throttle and invading your every thought at the worst moments. Including this one.

Jane kicks the back of your leg, cursing under her breath as you tear your eyes away from him. You’re not new to this scene, you’ve been in major leading roles and you’ve been nominated for Oscars. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that at your core, you are a complete and utter mess. A klutz. A loser with some money in the bank.

So, you take the pictures, with not too many mistakes as you expected, just a few shots of you blinking while smiling. You’re sure they’ll end up on Twitter where your fans will laugh about it while saying how much they love you.

This part always goes by fast. It’s camera flashes, smiles that are strained under the bright lights, talks with interviewers that always go far longer than expected, and then before you know it, you’re being ushered into a tight room with celebrities you had only dreamed of seeing in real life. Jane is glued to your side as you wait for your turn to enter the theater.

Despite the cool temperature of Los Angeles, you’re somehow drenched in sweat. You’ve done this before, you know that. But that doesn’t stop your entire body from going into fight or flight mode, teetering towards flight.

“What’s the hold up?” You hear a female’s voice yell out, and you almost think it’s Jane before you hear her chuckle beside you.

“Speak that truth. I am so sick of these fucking Oscars dimwits wasting my time,” Jane says loudly enough for the girl to hear it, and before you know it, they’re enthralled in a full-blown conversation. If you weren’t trying to fan your armpit sweat, you might’ve joined.

Maybe it’s a good idea to find out where you’re sitting. Probably will need to know that before you enter. You can only assume they’ll sit you next to your last co-star, Timothee Chalamet. What a delight that would be (and that’s not sarcasm, he always smells like cashmere and some type of forest.)

You turn your body slightly, eyeing Jane and the girl she’s talking to. She’s a redhead, also wearing a suit and clearly another publicist that has been in the position for far too long to enjoy it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a male figure standing next to the redhead. Hm. A black suit. Your eyes trail over his body, a soft black lace shirt that is half-unbuttoned peeking over the hem. How nice. You love that look on men.

Oh, fuck.

Your body freezes. Mouth runs dry. Sweat shrivels back up into your body only to start forming at impossible speeds. Heart palpates so quickly you think you might be going into cardiac arrest.

In front of you, is Austin Butler. And he completely, totally, entirely, caught you checking out his entire body, head to toe.

There’s a smirk on his face that is undeniably directed towards you, eyes glimmering with amusement. You can’t even believe that you’re looking directly at him. He can’t be real, he has to be a figment of your imagination.

“Come here often?”

You did not just speak.

No, you didn’t. That couldn’t have been real. That couldn’t have been what you just said. After years of dreaming about this moment, that can’t have been what your brain and tongue agreed on.

He chuckles, a deep one that rumbles through his chest, and says, “I try not to make it a habit. You?”

You entangle your fingers with each other, hoping the sweat that has gathered on them just slides right off. “Me either. Trying to cut down on my presence and all that.”

He raises his eyebrows quizzically, that soft smile that curves upon his lips widening a little, “Well, can’t say the Oscars is the best place to do that.”

“Yes, well…” You trail off. Thoughts empty. Brain just a shallow void with nothing but dirty, filthy fantasies about him floating around. Oh god, get a grip.

And he should end the conversation right there, then back around and not acknowledge the weird girl who clearly hasn’t had enough media training. But, he doesn’t. Instead, he sticks out his hand for you to shake, and says, “I’m Austin. Austin Butler.”

“I know,” You say almost immediately. His facial expression contorts into something unreadable, and your lips flap again to try and salvage the rest of your dignity. “I’m [Y/N].”

You shake his hand, praying to some otherworldly creature above that he won’t feel the sweat on your hands. It’s a little weird, when you touch his hand. Feels like you’re envisioning yourself with him, like you’re some kind of wizard that can tell it won’t be the last time you see him. It feels a little like something out of a rom-com, with the electricity zap and the sounds of your hearts beating erratically.

You both pull your hands away, smiling to the ground. You really, really, really hope he’ll keep talking to you.

“Nervous?” He asks, taking note of the way your thumbs twiddle and the sidestep you keep doing with your heels.

“A little. Kinda. Maybe,” You let out a sigh of relief. “I’m not really the most organized.”

“Hm. Well, I’m sure you’ll be great,” His grin widens just enough to show off his pearly white teeth that glimmer under the remaining sunlight that California has to offer.

“Thanks,” You smile back. “How about you? Nervous?”

“Always,” He responds, almost taken aback by the transparency he’s having with another celebrity. He’s never had a conversation about nerves, never felt validated enough by someone to open up about the fear that comes along with being at this level of fame. “It’s my first Oscars.”

“Right,” You say, “Well, I’ve been to a few, and honestly, I’ll let you in on a secret. Even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself a little when the nominees are announced.”

He lets out a laugh, a real one, one that sounds like all good things in the world and you would be more than happy to capture it in a jar and keep it on your bedside forever. “Somehow, I don’t doubt that,” He switches gears, shifting his body around a little. “What afterparty are you going to?”

It’s a simple question, one you’ve been asked numerous times by other people in the industry. It usually offers a sense of dominance over who got the better invite. “Er, yes, that would be a question for my lovely publicist, Jane, because I don’t have a rat’s ass idea of where I’m supposed to go.”

He laughs. Again. Part of you is enthralled, part of you is confused as to why he thinks you’re a comedy show. Maybe he thinks you’re a joke. Yes, that makes good sense. “That honestly makes me feel better because I don’t really know where I’m going either,” He admits.

“Are you kidding?” You ask incredulously. “You look like that and you don’t know where you’re going? I think the President of the Academy Awards has a personal invite waiting for you.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But really, it has to be blamed on the fact that there are a swarm of murderous bees flying around in your stomach that are making you feel woozy.

His cheeks turn a crimson glow, “Like that?”

“Oh, you know…” You trail, slowly laughing to brush off the fact that you basically just admitted your undying love to him. “Just…. That’s a great black shirt. I’m gonna buy one for my brother.”

His lips curve upwards a little more, blue eyes sparkling like little oceans. “Thanks. And, you know, you don’t look bad yourself.”

You blink twice. Did he just say that?

Before you even whip up a flirty comment, or even a funny one that’ll have him doubling over in laughter and proposing to you by tonight, you feel Jane gripping your forearm tightly. “Stop dicking around, [Y/N]. We need to go in.”

“Right, yes, totally,” You smile awkwardly over to Austin, and he returns it. You feel soft and warm and glowy inside, like you might levitate off the floor.

And then you really are levitating off the floor, because your feet miss the step and you’re falling before you even have a chance to stop yourself. Your arm extends to try and delay your inevitable fall, but it doesn’t work and you’re really sprawled out. Immediately, Jane rushes down to try and drag you up, hurriedly asking if you’re okay.

You nod slightly, balancing yourself on your knees. Thankfully, you think the vast majority of people have entered the theater and missed out on your embarrassment of epic proportions.

Well, maybe not everyone.

Suddenly, like a light peeking from beyond the clouds, you see an outstretched hand to your right. It’s tan, a male’s hand for sure. You look up to see who could possibly be nice enough to help you up. Maybe it’s God telling you it’s time to pass away.

It’s Austin. And he has a really worried look on his face that you’re shocked by, but his expression falters once he sees the look on your face. You’re smiling, a real big goofy one, because it’s so ridiculous and he’s so ridiculous and you’re pretty sure one of your heels is broken.

You place your hand in his, and his other hand wraps around your waist to help you up and steady yourself against him. Once you’re finally standing, he grins, leaning into your ear, “Remember, even Leonardo DiCaprio shits himself at the table.”

You don’t even realize his arm is still wrapped around your waist until you notice the absence of it. You giggle lightly, biting your lip. “Of course. And I think I saw Brad Pitt throw up in the bathroom last year.”

“Austin, we gotta go,” His publicist grabs his hand, and you feel a pang of disappointment. You almost think he does too, his blue eyes turning grayish as he looks back at her.

“Right,” He clears his throat. “Well, good luck tonight, [Y/N]. I hope you win.”

“You too,” The smile on your face is probably permanently tattooed on. You feel Jane’s hand on your back, slowly moving you away from him although your feet beg to stay.

“Oh, and [Y/N]?” You turn back around to face him, “Big fan of your work.”

With that, he turns away with his publicist to go and find his seat amongst the crowd. You watch him disappear, an indescribable feeling washing over your entire body. You’re also being whisked away to your table, greeted by familiar faces and friends. But it’s pretty clear that’s not the reason why you’re smiling.

Some part of your brain decides on one thing: this won’t be the last time you see him.

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

You decide that you like California. Not a whole lot, but enough to make you sign a contract for a new film. Normally, you believe that Los Angeles and all its surrounding cities are a dreadful structure that encapsulates all the worst features of privileged Southern California lifestyle. But the food is undeniably tasty, and your new apartment is decorated with high ceilings and well-lit rooms, so you’ll make do. You’ll be filming in sunny Calabasas, where the houses are painted a perfect shade of white, where time stills a little and every cloud is just the right amount of fluffy.

The Oscar’s had came and went, and you won, to no one’s surprise but your own. With that accomplishment came offers. People really, truly wanted to work with you, and although it baffled you, Jane was having the time of her life coordinating auditions and interviews.

Everything was truly perfect.

You flip through the pages of your fresh script, your manicured nails turning through the warm pages, the black ink bleeding onto the sheets. Jane sits across from you, feverishly scribbling something, negotiating your pay for your new film. She’ll deliver. In the end, she always does.

She hangs up her call, sighing from relief. You’re about to ask her how it went, if you got the price you wanted, before her phone blares again with that god awful ringtone she refuses to change. She answers it, a cheerful tone in her voice, “Kate? So good to hear from you! What’s going on?”

You tune out of her conversation, focusing your eyes back on the mass of paper in front of you. A new story to be told. A new character to embody. A new chapter of your life. It’s all very emotional and sappy and you almost want to cry tears of happiness, but you’ll save that for later, once you get home and crack open a bottle of wine.

You hear Jane place her phone down, and your eyes flicker back up to her. There’s an expression on her face that’s unreadable, and you’re unsure of how to process it. Oh, no. If you didn’t get the price you wanted, that would suck. Or, maybe you did and she’s just unsure on how to process emotion. You always thought she was a robot.

“I just had the weirdest phone call,” She finally speaks, scratching her forehead quizzically.

“What’s up?” You ask mindlessly, certain she’s going to tell you something personal like her cousin getting married to a farmer.

“That was Austin Butler’s publicist. She said he’s been asking about you since the Oscars.”

There’s no fucking way. She’s pranking you. Any second now, Ashton Kutcher is going to pop out behind the doorframe and say “You’ve been Punk’d!” and then maybe he’ll also bring out Austin to further your embarrassment.

“Excuse me?” You blink.

“Yeah,” She seems just as baffled as you are. “She said he’s been trying to find a way to get in contact with you, but turns out, you guys don’t have a lot of mutual friends.”

Well, that makes sense.

She continues on, “Anyway, she gave me his number and then said he wants to ask you on a date. So, do with that what you will.”

She unlocks her phone, slides it across the table to you, and you see a phone number typed into her notes. Your hand trembles as you pick up the iPhone, copying the number into your own contacts. You feel woozy, just like you did on that red carpet, just like you did the moment you locked eyes with him.

“Right, well,” You clear your throat. “I’ll just step outside and call him real quick.”

She nods, raising one eyebrow. There’s a small grin that appears on her lips, a knowing one, and you slide out the door into the hallway.

You don’t know what comes over you, or what demon compels you, but you click the number. You hear the ring. There’s a pause. Your heart drops as you think that he might not answer.

And then you hear him. His voice.

“Hello?”

“Uh, h-hi. Hi. This is, um, [Y/N]. Your publicist gave me your number.”

It almost sounds ridiculous.

“[Y/N]. You know, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you but turns out you’re not an easy person to reach,” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, you know me and my presence. All time low,” You say sarcastically, and he chuckles.

“Right. Well, congratulations on your win. Very well-deserved,” His voice is deeper than you remember. There’s a slight desire that pools between your legs for a moment before you snap yourself back into reality.

“You too. Some would call it the performance of the year,” And you can’t even believe it’s happening. You’re really flirting with him.

“Thank you,” He says so softly, so charming. He’s always grateful and humble, and it makes you even more attracted to him. If that’s even possible at this point. “So, do you think there’s a chance you would allow me to take you out to dinner? Somewhere lowkey, you know, for your presence and all?”

The question is so unbelievable that you can’t even take it in. You make a few sounds, splutter over your words and trip over them like you did your own two feet at the Oscars. Your heartbeat travels up to your eardrum, pounding with every ounce of blood that travels through you. “U-uh, umm… well, you know, let me go ahead and check my schedule.” There’s a pause. You cover the reciever and scream a silent yell into the void, jumping a few feet high.

Clearing your throat, you say, “Hm. Seems like I’m free tomorrow.”

“You can’t do tonight?”

The question takes you aback. Surely, he can’t be asking that because he wants to see you. “Oh, why? Are you leaving California tomorrow?”

“Not at all,” You hear him shuffle. “I just really want to take you out.”

“Right, yes, of course.” You let his question hang in the air. You know your answer, but you like letting him think there’s a possibility you might reject him.

“I am free tonight.”

“Great,” His voice is upbeat, a newfound excitement peeking through. “Well, text me your address. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“Yup, totally. Super duper cool. Looking really forward to it,” You babble on, pacing the hallway you’ve trapped yourself in.

He lets out a low laugh, “Me too. I’ll see you tonight. Bye, [Y/N].”

You say your goodbyes, leaning against the wall for stability before you collapse into a puddle. Later, a janitor might come to find your lifeless body glued to the wall. Cause of death? Man built like a Greek god asks woman on date.

But, everything is fine. You’ll somehow make it.

There’s a ridiculous feeling in your heart, a warmth that spreads to your toes and fingers. Now, everything is perfect.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

#austin butler #austin butler elvis #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler angst #austin!elvis #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #austin butler gif

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shanastoryteller · 11 months ago

Note

Happy Holidays Shana!! I really love your prompts about Greek mythology. Could you write a continuation of Hades or God's and Monsters?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Zagreus is mid word when he stills, eyes going distant. "Huh. I'll be right back."

"You're joking," Megaera says flatly. "You can't just drop this on me and-"

"Technically, Than did that." He would really prefer if Zagreus didn't pull him into this. "I'll be quick. She's calling me, it can't be anything good."

"Who's she?" Megaera demands but Zagreus is already gone. She scowls and turns to the others. "Who's she?"

"Eliana, maybe," Sisyphus offers, completely unruffled at Megaera's ire. "At least take a look out the balcony. This is the highest point in the court and the view is really spectacular."

It is. Thanatos hadn't known the underworld could be beautiful before he'd seen what Zagreus had built.

Her eyes narrow. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I can't say for sure," Sisyphus shrugs, his lips almost curling into a smile. "I wasn't really there for the beginning."

"I was."

They both turn to Patroclus. Eurydice is the only one of them that's suitably wary of either him or Megaera.

"He grew poms in my clearing first," he continues. "It's where we grew things until it became too full and then he created this. Zagreus has woven protections around it, to keep others from stumbling upon it accidentally, but I'm sure you could find it if you looked."

Megaera crosses her arms. "I'm not leaving."

Patroclus shrugs. Eurydice looks longingly towards the door and Sisyphus seems to actually be enjoying himself.

Thanatos stiffens, pain with no physical cause blooming from his chest. "He's died."

"Really?" Eurydice asks, taking a step closer. "He doesn't really do that anymore."

"Except for show," Sisyphus adds, frowning. "But you're both here."

Before Thanatos can decide how he feels about that, Zagreus is slipping back through the mirror, flicking off blood from his arms. "Sorry about that, Artemis wanted a favor."

Thanatos cannot have heard what he thinks he did.

"Artemis?" Megaera repeats dangerously.

"Oh, she told Aphrodite by the way," he adds casually, then pauses. "Actually, she was pretty surprised to see me, so I guess Artemis just called me and let her figure it out herself. Cold."

"Well, this is all unraveling," Patroclus says, but he doesn't seem that worried about it. Not nearly worried about it as Thanatos thinks he should be.

Zagreus shrugs. "They can keep a secret. Also it's been almost fifty years already, this can't go on forever. I suppose I could just challenge Demeter outright?"

"Do not do that," Eurydice says.

Thanatos wants to sit down.

"Have you LOST YOUR MIND?" Megaera screeches, grabbing Zagreus's shoulders. Her nails dig into him, but he doesn't bleed. "You can't do this! You can't - have you - this is crazy!"

Zagreus shrugs, pressing her nails deeper into him. "What's she going to do? Kill me?"

"There will be war," Thanatos says quietly while Megaera seems lost for words.

"Long overdue, if you as me," he says casually. "She's killing a lot of people, Than. She's undermining the other gods and making things worse for everyone all because she lost her daughter. She's turning against her own domain because her grief is more important than her duty. I can't make my mother talk to Demeter. But I have the power to stop her, to put an end to this winter. So I have to stop her."

"This isn't your responsibility, Zag," Thanatos says quietly.

"No," he agrees, expression souring. "It's my mother's. But if the goddess of spring won't do her duty and put an end to winter, then I will."

"Why?" Megaera asks, something small and scared in her that Thanatos hasn't seen since the first time she heard of Zagreus attempting to escape. "Why does it have to be you?

"I am a son of life's beginning and of life's ending." Zagreus says gently. "I know there is balance. I exist because of that balance. When I was born, I had too much of my father, and Nyx filled me with my mother's blood, because I can only exist when there is both." Thanatos hadn't known that, hadn't known how exactly his mother managed to save a stillborn Zagreus. "Who else, Meg?"

She doesn't have an answer.

There isn't one.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #geekyladypumpkin #hades game

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finniestoncrane · 2 months ago

Note

Out of curiosity.. what do you think the various scarecrows you write for 🍆's sizes are? Just curious.

Scarecrow Headcanons anon... thank you for this blessed opportunity to talk out of my ass about these lanky noodledicks for an entire post 🎃🧡 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: so much dick, references to sex, handjobs, blowjobs, choking, saliva, blood, period sex

arkham

i think auld hessian sack heid is packing HEAT

i'm being generous, so generous, because he just has that vibe of the skinny tall boy with an impressive shlong

thick, long, powerful, dangerous

8" inches give or take a little, big slapping balls, head on it that could stretch you wide open

it's pale, like the rest of him, and there's distinct scarring

there's tissue damage, so it's not as sensitive as it once was

a positive for you though, because that texture is strangely delightful

it's difficult to coax an orgasm out of him through fucking alone given the fact that there's nerve damage

so he prefers to see you choke on his incredible gift, struggling against it, trying to manage him

btaa

petite and pretty and don't tell me i'm wrong

please don't ask me for evidence, i just feel this in my bones, but that man is circumcised

he's got a glimmering little pink head always on show

and he is SO excitedto show it off

he can get hard just staring at his own cock before he's even touched it

he's working with a slightly below average length between 3-4"

but good god in heaven does he know what the fuck to do with it

his technique is unmatched, his energy, passion, moves

it's very nice looking too, kind of dick you get distracted by when you're sucking it

and he keeps his greying pubes very trim and tidy too, just enough of them to rub your nose or your fingers against

absolute fiend for period sex, something about the visceral deep red of your blood covering his cock just gets him

golden age

average, much to his disappointment

like, at least if you're huge you've got the bragging rights in the horrid world of machismo and size mattering

and at least if it's tiny then it's something different, and there are a lot of people *cough me cough* who adore small dicks

but average, to him, is nothing special

nothing different, nothing unique

just another in a long line of forgettable aspects of him

it's not necessarily pretty either, it really is just a cock

5-6", average veins, colour matched to his skin tone, pale and only flushes a little when he's aroused

unruly pubes too, insane bush!!

he's very keen on getting your drool all over his cock and balls, having is shining and wet is a huge turn on for him

#finnie writes #jonathan crane #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #batman #fanfic #scarecrow #scarecrow imagine #rogues gallery #batman rogues #x reader

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weirdthoughtsandideas · 8 months ago

Text

PRIDE MONTH PROMPTS 2024

They are here!!

Last year I released them in May, and I asked you when I should release it this year. You agreed I should release it early/mid april. And I think the perfect time is now! You have plenty of time to prepare your things for June!

So, here are 30 prompts, 1 prompt per day, for all of June! Use them for writing, or for art, or why not for something else creative you can come up with?

I will now write all the prompts in the list if it's hard to read, plus some explanations/suggestion what you can do for them.

Day 1. Actually, I'm not straight. Someone kicking off pride month by telling their nearest and dearest that they aren't straight, like everyone seems to think!

Day 2. Surprise! We're dating! A couple comes out to their friends ;)

Day 3. Early signs. Early signs someone was not straight, or not cis. Or both!

Day 4. Gender euphoria. Euphoooooriaaaaa forever to end of time /j Ok no but yeah, someone experiencing gender euphoria :) It's great :)

Day 5. Surprise! We're engaged! Surprise engagement! Did people even know they were dating?

Day 6. Proposal. You can choose to show the proposal for the couple at day 5... or a brand new couple! :D

Day 7. Pride flags. Are they making pride flags? Buying pride flags? Identifying pride flags? So much you can do! :)

Day 8. Prideful baking. A return from last year! Who's baking? Are they doing it with pride? Are they making rainbow cakes? This is also a way to make some ships be cute together as they bake.

Day 9. Wedding. To quote Sam from Glee: "YEAH! COME ON GUYS! GAY MARRIAGE GOOD!"

Day 10. Shenanigans at the Pride Parade. Time to let those characters run wild at the pride parade!

Day 11. Coming out as trans. Pretty self explanatory I think ;)

Day 12. Planning for a child. Two women, two men, maybe a trans couple... any not-cishet couple are planning for a child <3 Are they adopting? IVF? However they're doing it, they're gonna get that child :)

Day 13. Two moms. Two mommies thriving with their kiddos!

Day 14. Are they dating or not? People are speculating the relationship of some people.

Day 15. First crush. Aww, someone's first crush! Have they ever felt this before?

Day 16. Alternate universe. Go crazy with this! This could mean anything from "a universe in which this ship is canon" to "they live in a fantasy world". Do whatever!

Day 17. Realizing they're ace. Self explanatory ;)

Day 18. Two dads. Two daddies on request (Sorry I've watched too much of Papás por encargo (Daddies on request) to not make that joke). They'll do anything for the kids!

Day 19. I thought everyone liked both? What??? They don't?????

Day 20. Fruity sleepover. Anything and everything can happen at a sleepover!

Day 21. Pining. They pine so hard and yet... will their crush ever notice?

Day 22. Secret dating. Or are they as they secret as they think? How much chaos do they end up in to keep this?

Day 23. Dinner. Maybe just a normal dinner in a queer friendgroup. Or maybe someone coming out at dinner. Maybe the first dinner at their partner's house. Or maybe someone's making dinner for their loved one.

Day 24. Confession. Coming out confession? Confession to your crush? Just a confession about your favorite food in the middle of a pride parade? Yeah, you decide!

Day 25. Date. THEY'RE ON A DATE THE BABIES!!! Is it a good date? I hope so!

Day 26. Gender is a construct. Not everything is binary.

Day 27. Queer group meeting. You can toy around with this a lot. A group meeting with closeted gays? A group meeting with every character from your different fandoms that you headcanon as bi that you want to interact in the group meeting for disaster bi's? A group meeting for aces just vibing? Maybe we'll meet a lot of different groups!

Day 28. Accidental coming out. Oops!

Day 29. Alternate time period. You want to play out a little love story but instead they live in the 1950s? Or maybe they live in the future! Maybe they live in the medieval times! Woah!

Day 30. Growing old together. Look at them now. Who knew they'd find each other in the world and now they're here?

I hope I'm gonna see some of you in pride month! It's always a pleasure! Also, when the time comes in June, and you want to use one of these prompts, don't forget to tag me ;)

#pride month prompts #prompts #pride month

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ma1dita · 1 year ago

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liar, liar

part two cn be found here-> truth be told

words: little under 2k

summary: sirius black is a good liar. spot how many times sirius lies in this fic.

warnings: slight nondescript smut!! errr cursing & another self-deprecating marauder, mostly unrequited love/being led on, sirius’s trauma response, fem!reader is too good for sirius, fem!reader has ‘i can fix him’ complex

a/n: guys… i thought of this prompt and the necklace Alex Russo wore in WoWP and suddenly, complex by katie gregson-macleod started playing so…sorry if this gets sadder.

(posted 9/8/23 & edited 11/6/23)

—

At the very core of him, Sirius Black is a liar.

It’s not directly his fault, but a subliminal result of the loveless household he grew up in. Lies roll off his experienced tongue more naturally than when he’s ever tried to say I love you. So he’s convinced himself that it’s easier to live life this way, without love. If love ever fell into his hands, he’s not quite sure what he’d do with it.

If Sirius Black could be defined, he thinks it would lack the word love and instead encompass a lot of his anger. Fiery, palpable anger, deep set in his core. That’s what he is. There are a lot of things to be angry about in this life, after all.

—

You’re 16 and this birthday party might’ve been your best idea yet. Your friends are dotted around your dorm room, along with some people you’ve invited from your classes. Among the forming crowd, you spot one Sirius Black. You don’t talk much outside of being Potions partners, and you get by with smiles in the halls and friendly touches. He’s looking at you from across the room like he knows you intimately, but that is far from the truth. Sirius Black is an enigma if anything, but what’s more unusual to you even after three shots of firewhiskey is the fact that he doesn't have any of his friends in tow. He meanders around the open space before circling back towards your direction as if that wasn’t his plan in the first place.

“Trouble in paradise?” you joke, gesturing to the space his posse would usually occupy behind him. He scoffs, avoiding the question, giving you a proper kiss on the cheek instead as he loops his arms around your waist. It piques your interest; you’ve always loved a challenge.

“Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Sirius is handing you a small jewelry box, and you look at him dumbfounded. You’re barely even friends.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Black. I just called you over to get drunk with me and my mates.” You giggle, cheeks red from the alcohol.

It’s a necklace. A magical, really expensive one. Sirius is gauging your reaction, scratching the back of his neck. It’s easy to put a price to something rather than show you all of his cards.

“Well, aren't I special? This is too much, Black. I shouldn’t…” Your soft hands are pushing the box into his impenetrable wall of a chest as you shake your head in disbelief. No one’s ever gotten you something this nice or expensive before. You wonder if he does this to all the other girls that fawn over him.

“It’s nothing. I insist. You keep me distracted in Slughorn’s class and for that, you get a prize just as pretty as you.” He’s holding your wrists now, rubbing them casually like this isn’t the most intimate encounter you’ve had with him yet. Somehow you can sense that he needs this more than you do. To be needed. He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re the only one making him smile nowadays since his friends haven’t talked to him in weeks. You indulge in this behavior, because it’s new and exciting, and who would say no to Sirius Black?

The party ends much later after you tease him until his wit’s end, and then it’s your whispered approval that moves him to move his body over yours, the rest of your clothes quickly flying off in his pursuit to become a part of you. Physically and metaphorically, his being overtakes you quickly. Deep into the night, when he’s fucking you into your mattress, the necklace he gave you swings back and forth against your chest with every thrust of his hips, every bump of the headboard against the wall thumping the final nails into the coffin. You can’t help but feel special as he lays kisses on your spine. You know this isn’t intimacy in Sirius’ world though. This isn’t love, it’s bodies yearning for connection, to find something meaningful. To string the words to define how to pass the time. You hope he finds what he’s looking for between your sheets and as he breathes into your hair.

Sirius is angry at the world and he’s chosen you to be his target. What color on your necklace can define the fact you wanted him to fuck you brainless anyways? What can accurately portray the shaking of his hands as he slaps the fat of your thighs? Both of you don’t remember, but all he knows is your naked bosom is glowing amber as you pant, and it looks and feels like you’re on fire. Lust has a way of consuming the body, both of you moving until you cannot anymore, anatomy animated by the need for touch.

He needed this, a distraction. And you just wanted a crazy story to tell. You keep note of the fact that Sirius likes it when you moan his name, and he makes it his mission for you to scream the name he grew up hating because it sounds pretty coming from your mouth. Because here in this room, it means something other than disappointment.

“Oh my god, baby, right there!”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your baby.” he pants, pulling your hair roughly as he jackhammers into you. No pet names or endearments are allowed. Just Sirius, and he’ll correct you if you get it wrong. By the end of it, you’re slurring your words and screaming nonsense anyway. You think nothing of it.

He wants you as much as you’ll have him, which, when you’re 16, you think can be made a priority just to keep his eyes on you. Everyone wants a piece of Sirius Orion Black. And your hands are stretched out in hopes of partaking in this transaction of physicality and sin. Weeks later, after you seemingly fall asleep in the boys’ dorm, James asks Sirius if you’re his girlfriend. “She’s…alright,” he mumbles into the air. They’ve finally forgiven him for The Prank after your urges to get Sirius to swallow his ego. He never got to thank you for it. Gratitudes and endearments were a rarity at Grimmauld Place.

Peter whispers in the dark of their dorm and asks Sirius if he could ever fall in love with you. With your eyes closed and your head lying against his chest, you feel him shrug as he traces a hickey he left on your collarbone. What is love to Sirius Black? He’s looking at your chest glow red, and his hand clutches the pendant in his fist, trying to dim its light. You go to sleep instead. The incandescent glow of the pendant seeps beneath your eyelids.

—

You’re 19 and sometimes you wonder if it’d be easier to be dead. Good days are a relief for all to have, presenting themselves as scarce and far apart in your new normal. There’s a war going on and you think it’s criminal to consider yourself adult enough to fight in it, but you and your friends–and your boyfriend do. You sleep in Sirius’ apartment more than your own now, but he never calls you his girlfriend, he just calls you his, and you convince yourself to not worry so much about it because death itself is coming for everyone you know. You’re together, and that’s what matters, right? There are bigger problems at hand.

Between Auror missions, Sirius has a bad habit of picking fights with you in front of your friends, which now include his friends. A lot of you comes from him, which you don’t resent. They’re lovely, but they see through the struggle. They know him too well, and you go to every gathering with an inkling that they know how mean Sirius can truly be. Old habits die hard. Tonight he yells at you because you won’t let him get a fifth beer.

“Always thinking you know better than me, (Y/N). You’re not my fucking wife, so I don’t need to listen to you! No one wants to hang around a killjoy.”

He wrenches his grip from your thigh, nearly toppling your chair over to stomp over to the bar himself. Everyone stares at you, waiting for you to react before they judge. Before they defend their friend. His behavior has been erratic lately with his world crumbling as he knows it. But then again, Sirius has never known life without chaos.

“I know it’s not… ideal. But he’s a good guy. We’re all just going through shit right now. His brother’s missing, so I’m there when he needs me.” Which is always, you omit from your response. You don’t mind being needed though. Helping him fight his demons is a part of being in a relationship with someone so damaged. You bring him light when his mind darkens. That is not transactional. It’s something deeper, though the words dissipate before either of you can utter it at night.

Lily reaches over the table to hold your hand, with Remus pulling his arm around the back of your chair, and rubbing your shoulder. Your chest is still glowing red, your love for him triumphing over any embarrassment he’s caused you. How you feel has always been clear, evident on your chest. What a weakness to have, to lay yourself bare to him and you wonder if Sirius did it on purpose.

He gets piss drunk as you expected and you have to side-apparate him home while you insist to everyone else that they should stay and have fun. They’re not as easily convinced, but you bid them farewell anyway. You get to the apartment and Sirius mumbles a ‘thank you’ as you help him take his clothes off and you gently tuck him under the covers, kissing him goodnight. Small moments like these are tender. They say more than anything you could put into words.

Moments later, you pretend to not hear Sirius cry, but his chest is heaving and the sound coming from his throat is so gut-wrenching that you lift yourself out from under him where he was weeping into your shoulder. In the dark, your eyes adjust to find his face in the moonlight.

“Sirius?” you breathe, fingers ghosting over the tears on his face.

“He’s dead.” he whimpers. You’ve never seen Sirius Black let himself be vulnerable like this. Not to the Marauders, and especially not to you. There’s no carnal aspect in sorrow, though it leaves one gutted, worn down to the bone.

“My baby brother is dead, and no one knows. I don’t even have a body to mourn over.”

He chokes back a sob, and you let his arms shroud your body, leaving the red glow of your pendant trapped between both of your ribs. You hope some of the light and some of your love seeps into him. You have plenty to give, and it’s all his for the taking, if only he’d let you.

Sirius falls asleep hours later, and you’re pinned to the bed underneath him. There’s a crick in your trapezius that you try to ignore as you stroke his hair. Maybe in his dreamless state he can find peace. You close your eyes and wonder if Regulus has found solace in death. Maybe it would feel something like this.

—

You’re 21 and most of your good friends are dead or in hiding. It’s the night before Halloween, but there’s not a lot to celebrate if real life is much scarier now.

Over the years, Sirius and you have come to an understanding. He’s flawed, with a viciously large ego and oftentimes he’s mean when he doesn’t know how to react. But he’s human. He tries now, more than ever to quell the anger born in the Black name. He tries to be gentle, though the instinct to hurt is in his blood. You’re patient, and resilient enough to take the blows, knowing what you feel is deeper than his anger, often revealing itself as his darkest fears. You like him ‘because’ and love him ‘despite’. Your cue to comfort him is usually right before he gets the look on his face that tells you he’ll say something knowing it’ll make you cry. You’ve always loved him, but now you know why. Sirius wonders every day how you’re still with him. He’s a runner, but since the day you’ve met him, you haven’t quite let go of his hand.

Usually instead of an apology, he’ll usually fuck you to oblivion, making sure your legs shake and your brain is jumbled enough to not talk about the hurt he causes you. He strokes the fire in you, and the feeling of anger that continually wracks his being can only be satiated by your touch. His skin on yours is the best place to be, but maybe there’s a part of you that likes the hurt, his anger. It's almost passionate, the only emotion he knows how to express well. You love him in a way that only you can, despite all of that. But it all blurs when he kisses you, consumes you. You especially like it when he pulls your hair.

You shriek as you come down from a release, hands rubbing the expanse of his chest. His thrusts slow as he grapples with reality, pawing at your breasts. Your hips milk him for his worth, and he groans lowly.

“You’re too good to me, wife. You’re all mine.”

Your ministrations come to a stop as you look down at him, pendant hanging between your faces. Nicknames were a growing commodity lately.

“Wife, huh…”

The air is heavy between you two, still connected as one while you wait for his response. Let him take the lead, as it’s the role he’s more accustomed to.

“If that’s okay.” he breathes, not knowing what to do with his hands. Love has fallen into his hands, and her physical form is sitting in his lap. His grip eases as he accepts you wholly.

“Maybe someday soon.”

A slow smile stretches across your face.

“Ask me properly and I’ll consider.” But the glow of your necklace is more vibrant now, and you two both know your answer as he grabs your waist and pulls you down for another round.

Sirius tries to sneak out of bed in the early morning as you doze off. You wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, bare feet padding across your shared apartment in search of him until you see him dressed in the kitchen and holding a letter.

“I have to go… deal with some business,” he mutters, not stepping away from the window nor sparing you a glance. Lying to someone he loves is harder than he thought it would be.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” You’re standing in the doorway wearing his shirt and his boxers. He likes it when you say his name. You could call him anything you want and he’d come running.

“James and Lily, they’re in trouble. I’ll be back by morning.”

You turn to grab your wand, planning to go with him, but he’s suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you into a kiss, stopping your advances. He has something to lose now. You’re his, and he’ll be damned to let you follow him blindly into danger.

“You have to stay here. Everything will be okay,” he says, holding your chin. The lie sits heavy on his tongue. Maybe if he focuses he’ll see the rose-tinted hue of your irises every time he shuts his eyes.

“You’re scaring me...” You look at him in apprehension, his movements erratic and you wonder if he’s cracked and needs an exorcism. Then your heart is thundering in your chest and the red glow turns ice blue. A new feeling has taken a larger form than your love, and its fear. Briefly, you wonder how Sirius lives on edge like this. Something is dangerously wrong. He looks into your eyes, and then the cold glow on your chest. He takes a slow step back away from you, looking almost apologetic.

“Sirius Black, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I love you.”

He’s apparated and long gone before you register what he said. It sounded unfamiliar coming from his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. It was something you’ve always known. You just didn’t think that hearing it would hurt this badly.

—

The doors of the dreary prison cell screech shut in Azkaban. Visiting hours are over, and Sirius hadn’t left his space the whole two hours you waited outside in hopes of seeing him.

Tossing the lunch you packed into the bin as you push through the exit door for the last time, you think that killing him would’ve been easier than this, but he is not the victim in this story. You at least hope he got your package, as you think that maybe you could find a different adventure now, one that doesn’t involve having your feelings splayed across your chest for a murderer to come in and kill you dead. What a fool, to know someone so intimately, so innately, and for him to be a killer.

The envelope is slid under his cell door, and he opens it slowly. The necklace. Sirius sighs, and he wonders if you’ll finally let him go. It’s what you deserve anyway, now that he’ll rot in here for the rest of his life for a crime he didn’t commit. He’s hurt you enough that even if he did tell you everything, there’s a chance you wouldn’t believe him. No one does, after all. The cool silver of the chain makes goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as he slips it on. Red.

With all the time in the world to think, he realizes that he can easily be defined by the sound of your voice calling his name. He’s called many things now besides a liar; a murderer, a deranged madman, a traitor. The only definition of himself he prefers now is one where he is described to be loving you. There are a lot of things to love about you, after all. He spends days, weeks, months, years, keeping track. He finds new ones every time he closes his eyes.

But Sirius Black is first and foremost a liar, and if there’s anything he’s sure of, is that he’s damn good at it.

—

“You say you love rain

but you open your umbrella.

You say you love the sun

but you find a shadow spot.

You say you love wind

but you close your windows.

This is why I am afraid

when you say you love me.”

William Shakespeare

love me some tunes! i listened to this while writing: complex by katie gregson-macleod

taglist: @jsjcue

#sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader angst #sirius black x reader smut #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #marauders era #made by ma1dita ♥︎#Spotify

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