#and 1) my kitchen looked like a murder scene
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
for no particular reason, i feel like pomegranate seeds are very popular snacks in gondor
#between the mountains and the sea#i had my first Real pomegranate seeds today#(as opposed to the juice)#and 1) my kitchen looked like a murder scene#and 2) i have no idea how in the greek myths persephone only ate 4; my roommate and i were eating them by the handfuls
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
YN YLN and Charles Leclerc Take a Couples Quiz
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
author's note: this has been in my drafts for wayy to long, so ive decided to just finish it off and post it. im sorry lmao but i just couldn't watch this rot away in my wips any longer.
masterlist
๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑
The video cut to you and Charles, sitting opposite each other in front of a yellow to red gradient, smiling at the camera.
"Hi! I'm YN", you say cheerfully.
"And I'm Charles"
"And we are here to take a couples quiz!"
You are handed a stack of questions from a person off screen, and turn towards Charles.
"Are you ready?"
"Is that the first question?" he retorts.
Your face drops, now showing slight annoyance but there is still a small smile you try to hide. "That's it. Minus 1 points."
"Oh c'mon! That is not fair."
You turn to argue but the video cuts to a different scene in which you ask the actual first question.
"What things do I have, of yours, that are my favourite?
He looks up in thought before chuckling and replying. "Theres a lot, you steal my stuff all the time."
You grin. "Yes, but what's my favourite?"
"My shirts? No wait! My bracelets?" He asks.
"Yeah!" you exclaim. Turning to the camera you add. "He gets so many bracelets from fans and they are all so pretty. We keep them in a bowl on our dresser so I like to take a few whenever I go out."
Looking back at Charles, you add. "You didn't know the answer, but you still got it right so I think you deserve half a point." The staff behind the camera gives you a thumbs up, noting it down for when they would edit the video.
"Ok! Next question- which song of yours is my favourite?"
He looks at you, his eyes widening with a confused expression on his face. He looks at the camera crew and then back at you.
"C'mon, I only have 2 it's not a very hard question."
"Then answer it." you reply, looking at him with a small smirk.
"Fine. Uh, AUS23."
"Wrong!" you exclaim, laughing at the way his jaw drops in surprise.
"Then what? I know its not Miami."
"Its the one you wrote for Baku." you slyly say, knowing fully well that he hadn't released it and you were possibly the only one other than him to have heard it.
You look down at the cards you had been given, reading off the next question. "What is the first thing I eat in the morning?"
You see his smirk growing in your peripheral vision and cut in before he answers. "If you dare make a joke, I will murder you."
He laughs at that, chuckling as he looks up to think. "Um. Breakfast? It's different things every morning, but if I wake up before her then I make cereal."
Noticing the evident confusion on the faces of the cameramen, you elaborate. "It's the only thing he's allowed to make without me present. The last time I let him cook alone, he burned the pancakes and half our kitchen."
Turning red at the story, he interrupts. "Okayy, next question amore."
"Which side of the bed do I sleep on?"
"Left."
"If I could get a tattoo of something, what would it be?"
"A bouquet of flowers. The flowers would be your favourite and my favourite together."
You are shocked at his response. "How did you remember that? I told you that ages ago!"
He smiles slyly to the camera. "That is why I am the best boyfriend, there is no need for these silly questions I am already the best. She told me so in be-"
"Right. Next question." You cut him off, eyes widening as you figure out where he was going with the statement. "This is the last one. If I could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"
"Oh this is easy. Italy. You are always talking about how much you love it. But you also love Monaco and France so depending on how you feel, one of those three."
"Well.", you look at the camera, "I think that answer deserves 2 points." Handing your questions off to the side, you turn to Charles who has started reading the first of his questions.
"If I had a ticket to anywhere in the world, where would I go?" he reads. "This is similar to yours", he mutters.
"Home", you say confidently. "He's a mama's boy, tries to go back home as much as possible."
He blushes slightly before nodding to the camera. "Yup, 1 point."
"What was I wearing on our first date?"
You reply quick as lightening. "A shirt and pants. Very gentlemanly, I remember thinking, probably the best first impression I've had of a guy."
His eyebrows raise at the confession, cockily tilting his head in the direction of the camera. "You heard her! Next, what is something I hate?"
"A lot of things, Char."
"Is that your final answer, cherie?"
"Um." you pause. "Oh I know! When manipulate stuff that you say. It makes me really mad too. It gets really tiresome when they take stuff that Charles has said that turn into into a different story altogether."
"Thats true, I do hate that." He smiles at you, reaching over to squeeze your hand once to say thank you.
"How many kids do I want?"
"3, because you have 2 siblings. But, you said you want as many as I am comfortable with!"
"Of course, amour. You're the one whose going to be carrying them, your choice is more important here. What is something I get annoyed about?"
"Oh, when Seb and Carlos beat you at those Ferrari games you play."
His jaw drops in faux offence, shaking his head as he reads out the last question on his cue card.
"What is one my hidden talents?"
You look straight at the camera, not dissimilar to The Office. A smirk grows on your face and the lens zooms in. In the background Charles can be heard complaining.
"Oh I see! You can make these jokes, but I cant?"
The video cuts to the wider angle once again, you and Charles wave at the camera.
"Thanks for watching our couples quiz! I think it's clear that I've won."
Charles rolls his eyes, eyes shining with admiration and love for you. "Bye everybody."
Comments:
charleslover: OH MY GOD!! THEY ARE SO IN LOVE IT KILLS ME
ynandcharles: their facial expressions always kill me
username89: where do i get a charles leclerc bcs i will willingly offer all the money i have
doratheexplorer16: their love for each other hurts
#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#formula one#vanishingcherry#leah writes ──⋆˚₊⋆ ๑#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc blurb#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles lecrelc#scuderia ferrari#couples quiz
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Man on a Mission
Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
*****
Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.
Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.
He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.
Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.
“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”
“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.
“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”
“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”
“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”
“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”
Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.
For now.
“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”
You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.
Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.
“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.
“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.
“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.
Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive
Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)
Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.
A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.
Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.
“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”
Bucky stared at him intently.
Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98
Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.
Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.
“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.
“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.
Suspect 3: Steve Rog-
Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.
Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.
For now, Bucky was stuck.
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.
You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.
But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.
Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.
He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.
There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.
He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.
He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.
You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?
But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,
“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.
Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.
He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.
“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.
The little bastard was taken by complete shock.
Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.
“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”
Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.
He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.
“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.
“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”
Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.
“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”
Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.
Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.
“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.
Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.
“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”
Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.
“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”
⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃
A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.
Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.
He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.
Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.
“Thank you,” You smiled.
“For what, doll?”
You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”
Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.
“I love you, my little smartass.”
“I love you too, pops.”
Mission accomplished.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.
ft. okkotsu yuuta
it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.
info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo
thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3
wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k
The human body contains a shit ton of blood.
Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.
And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.
...And then there's Sailor Moon.
“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”
Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares.
Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.
How romantic.
The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold.
“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.
Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.
Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed.
The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.
So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.
“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.
A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”
You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him.
This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.
The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”
You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”
A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?”
There’s a pause. You swallow.
“These walls are thin.”
Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows.
No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.
You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.
“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”
Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.
You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.
“Is that blood?”
That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it.
He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.
“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first.
“Are you… Are you injured?”
Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.
“I’m unharmed.”
Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin.
You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”
“Yuuta,” he interrupts.
You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”
Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly.
Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?”
Okkotsu just smiles.
You let Okkotsu come inside.
Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something.
You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen.
It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it.
Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple.
Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”
You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.
He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
Yeaaaah. It’s true.
A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used.
“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.
Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—
“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.
The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again.
The dead body lays.
And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.
When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.
The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor.
“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open.
The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway.
“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”
He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you.
“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?”
Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”
You don’t ask again.
You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you.
Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.
Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his.
“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.
Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.
Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen.
“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods.
“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe.
Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.
You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.
Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.
You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life.
“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return.
According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!
Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.
You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again.
Snip.
You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes.
Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.
It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock.
You shouldn’t have killed him.
You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you.
You're fucked.
Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?
That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.
And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.
“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.
You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”
There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask.
“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”
Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—”
Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”
“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”
“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.
“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out."
A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean.
Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.
“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.
You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”
Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.
Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones.
“You don’t know what I deserve.”
Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…
“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu.
You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs.
You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear.
You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart.
“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.
His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly.
…You don’t know if you want to.
Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.
Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.
“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close.
The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…
“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.
Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh.
“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”
His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."
It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.
“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”
It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.
It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.
“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”
You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?”
Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement.
It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.
Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it.
You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.
When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done.
It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment.
You scrub, and scrub.
And scrub.
“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command.
Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.
You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body.
Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.
It’s disquieting.
After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.
“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.
Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.”
“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.
“Make sure your window’s locked.”
Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night.
You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together.
You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”
“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on.
“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”
A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.
The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.
“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.
“It’s been a long day, you know—”
“Cold, I’m afraid.”
“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—”
“Hmm, getting colder!”
“I don’t think I can.”
A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him.
You look at him.
“Good," he hums.
You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you.
Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish.
“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?”
At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach.
“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams.
And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?
fin. if u made it this far, ily
#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#yuuta x reader#yuta x reader#jjk x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuta x you#yuta x you#jjk x gn!reader#jjk#tw: blood#tw: death#m.jjk#m.yuuta#battle scarred;#yuuta my beloved <3
357 notes
·
View notes
Text
The first - Part 1
Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul
Pairing: Multiple characters x gender-neutral reader (Nacho, Jesse, Kim, Jimmy, Mike, Howard) Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, one-shots Warning(s): Mentions of sexual tension, weed and alcohol. Cuss words Words: 1.5k Summary: The first kiss with the BrBa/BCS characters English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 »» AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ««
The first kiss
Nacho
You and Nacho had been friends for quite a while during this time. One day, you were chilling in his house and talking and it kinda just happened. Having a complicated life, Nacho was scared to drag you - one of the people he cares about mostly - into it. But the sexual tension between the two of you reached a tipping point when you got into the topic of relationships.
“If things were easier, maybe I’d actually have time to find love” Nacho sighed.
“You deserve to be happy, Nacho.”
“I am. With you.” He realized how it sounded and shook his head. “...Nevermind.”
But you’d heard enough to know you were not crazy. He liked you, too. Without another word, you pressed your lips against his. At first, he responded but soon pulled back.
“We shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
Silence fell, and after a moment, you stood up, walking to the door before you felt Nacho grab your arm. Before given the chance to react - he spinned you around and pulled you into a kiss. With his palm cupping your face, he kissed you in a way no one had done before. It was passionate and needy. Afterwards, he held onto you, breathing hot air at you whilst your foreheads pressed against each other.
“Stay.”
You nodded.
“I’m not going anywhere”
Jesse
Jesse invited you to one of his parties and since you liked him, you decided to go. Little did you know, he felt the same… Opening the door to the house, you were hit by loud music, loud voices and the smell of alcohol, sweat and weed. At least 20 people in the living room vibing to the music whilst getting drunk and high. You felt a bit disoriented entering the place, directly scanning the place for Jesse. You found him sitting in the living room together with the friends Skinny Pete and Badger. When seeing you he smiled and greeted you.
“Yo! I’m glad you made it here.” After hugging you he dragged you along to the kitchen. “Something to drink?”
“Yes please!” After handing you a beer, the two of you sat down next to Jesse’s friends and talked. They kept glancing at the two of you and grinning, like they knew something you didn’t.
“Man… You’re so down bad for them, Jesse.” Badger mumbled whilst smoking his joint. Jesse looked like he wanted to murder his best friend on the spot, whilst Pete just laughed. So that’s what they were grinning about…
“Is that right, Jesse?”
“I…” He stuttered an explanation, but none was needed.
“Maybe I like you too?”
“If you’re playing with me right now…”
“Jesse.” You said firmly. “I mean it.”
After that, Jesse basically grabbed your hand and walked out of the house, with his friends whistling and laughing at the scene.
“Sorry ‘bout them. They’re such damn jerks.” Jesse muttered and looked at the night sky, his face turned away from you to hide the blush.
“You like me.”
“And you like me, too?”
“Yea.”
“Perfect.”
Without realizing it, the two of you had moved closer to each other. When he leaned down, you didn’t hesitate. It was like you could taste the smoke on his soft lips as you kissed. It was intoxicating. Afterwards, you both looked at the sky.
“We should have done that a long time ago.”
“Yea”
Kim
Kim was overworking herself - as usual. And being her worried friend, you couldn’t stand the sight of it. During her lunch break, you went to her office at HHM only to find her buried in paperwork.
“Kim, for fuck sake…”
She barely noticed your presence so you had to walk up to her and tap her shoulder.
“Hey…” she said absent-mindedly.
“Kim…”
“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry”
“You’ve said that for days, Kim.”
“Yea? Well why don’t you-” realizing she was about to snap at you, she went quiet really fast and looked at you in shame “I’m sorry.”
After some convincing, she finally agreed to leave the office and let you buy her a coffee. Seeing her holding the warm paper cup containing cappuccino melted your heart. She looked so calm, for once.
“I’m worried for you.”
“That’s sweet of you… But really, I’m fine.”
You were not satisfied with the reply, and she noticed that - since you had stopped walking.
“Hey… What’s the matter?” she said softly and threw the empty cup in a near bin before standing before you.
“I care about you, Kim. I don’t want you burned out…”
She stroked your cheek, and you could no longer hold back the feelings you harbored. When you kissed her, she didn’t pull back. Rather, she pulled you closer to her.
“Will you stop nagging if I take the afternoon off?” You could only nod in reply, still in shock after the kiss.
Jimmy
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Hmmm? What?” you looked at Jimmy, who drove the car. “Yea, of course. You told me about some clients.”
“...If I bore you out that badly, just tell me, sugar.” he muttered before parking the car.
“You don’t bore me, Jimmy.”
“Sure seems like it.”
He left the car and you had to run after him.
“Look, I’m sorry… It’s just, I’m worried, I guess.”
“Worried? Why?”
“You should hear yourself sometimes, Jimmy.” You hissed. “You’re dealing with some dangerous people. And you always put yourself in shit situations!”
“I got this! Ok?!”
“Yea, sure you do. Sure.”
He rolled his eyes and continued walking.
“Why do you even care?” he grumbled. You had to bite your tongue to not say anything stupid. Because what could you even say? “...And you’re back to ignoring me. Thank you, sweetie.”
“Because I just care, ok?” Tears burned in your eyes, and now he noticed.
“Hey… Sweetheart-” he sighed, seeming uncomfortable with your emotions. “I’m sorry, ok?”
He squeezed your shoulder.
After a minute of awkward silence, he tried lightening the mood with saying:
“You got a lil crush on good ol’ Jimmy, eh?” Your reaction told him everything. “You do??” he chuckled.
“...Idiot.”
“Your idiot.” he murmured before stepping closer - he tilted your head up and forced you to look at him.
“I knew you got the hots for me, sugar. Don’t worry. I feel the same.”
And then he kissed you. At first, you wanted to pull away. You were still angry at him - after all.
But it’s hard to be mad at someone that kisses you like that.
And the way he smiled against your lips - Oh god…
Mike
You had just found out about Mike’s work, and just what he does for his boss Gus Fring. And you were not happy. Saying “you needed to think”, you rushed out from his place.
“Can you at least let me explain?” Mike hissed, following you - one step behind.
“Mike…”
“Please.” Something in his voice had changed. It went from the usually calm but firm tone - to a pleading one. It caught you off guard and you turned around to look at him. He seemed stressed.
“What?” you muttered.
“Please, let me explain.”
And seeing how desperate he seemed, you couldn’t say no. So you listened to him, letting him tell you about his career and why he did it.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Why would I?” he scoffed, but quickly realised how harsh it sounded. Before you had a chance to leave again, he grabbed your hand.
“Because I care about you. I’m not pulling you into my bullshit.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his next words…
“I can’t lose you. Please.”
And then���
He kissed you. Just like that. And how could you pull away, when you’d been dreaming of this moment for so long?
The kiss said more than thousands of words.
Everything made sense now.
Howard
You had known Howard for quite a while and he invited you out for lunch during one of his breaks.
“Over here!” you saw him sitting by a two-person table at the restaurant, waving at you with a big smile. You joined him.
“Jeez, Howard! This place looks… Expensive!”
“Only the best lunch restaurant in town!” He said cheerfully, but you could sense some sort of… Nervousness? In his voice. “Tell me about your day!”
“Well uhm… It was-” He looked at you intensely. It was both cute but a bit weird. “...Are you ok?”
“Of course!”
After lunch - which he insisted on paying - you tagged along when he walked back to HHM and his office. Before saying goodbye, he stopped you.
“Wait! I actually need to talk to you.”
“Alright… Shoot.”
“I…” he gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat before continuing - or at least trying to. “I kinda… Y’know…”
You couldn’t help but smile. The blush said everything.
“Howard…” you cooed, and then leaned in and kissed him. He was startled, but then kissed you back and sighed in relief at you initiating this.
“Was that what you were trying to say?”
“Y-yea…”
“Well… I definitely feel the same.”
AHSHSHS this is prob one of my cheesiest one-shots yet- HOPE Y'ALL LIKED IT EITHER WAYS <3 Next part will be "First date". If you like this concept like, comment or reblog! Would mean a lot. :) MWAHHH
#writing community#writeblr#creative writing#breaking bad x reader#better call saul x reader#better call saul#fan fic writing#drabble#one-shot#one shot#slow burn#masterlist#x reader#brbabcs#breaking bad#smut#breaking bad smut#fanfic writing#fanfic authors#saul goodman x reader#kim wexler x reader#nacho x reader#jesse x reader#howard hamlin x reader#mike ehrmantraut x reader#jesse pinkman#kim wexler#jimmy mcgill#jimmy mcgill x reader#scenario
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh come on Bella Rewrite (Fem!swan reader x Felix volturi) pt 1
A/n: This is the first reinstallment of my oh come on bella series, I really hope everyone likes where I am going with this, first chapter is still mostly the same just more detailed now and a bit more polished than before. please feel free to request, I am rebranding my blog and need some fresh prompts.~kenzie
Pairing: Fem reader x felix
type and warnings: M for mature due to mentions of murder, suicidal thoughts, edwards a bit of a dick, Bestfriend alice!
word count: 3584
date posted: September, 9th 2024
Life has the tendency to fuck people, I experienced this firsthand. My life has been anything but easy, in fact it has been rather difficult. It all started when I was about 5 years old when my birth parents were murdered. I’m not sure why the culprit left little old me alive, but they did. I woke up in the middle of the night for a glass of water when I found them bloody and lifeless in the kitchen. At the tender age of five my life turned upside down. Chief Swan was the responding officer to my 911 call. I remember when he found me, I was cuddled up next to my bloody mom and dad hyperventilating.
Charlie decided then and there to adopt me out of the system I was about to be put into. Charlie welcomed me with open arms into his life yet despite this I still feel like I don’t belong in the Swan family, I feel like an outcast due to how long it took for Bella and I to get along. Bella was about seven when I came into their life. As any seven-year-old would be she was jealous and scared that this meant her dad didn’t love her anymore. Though I do owe my life to Charlie, if it wasn’t for Charlie whom I now call dad I would most likely be dead in an alleyway by now.
I am two years younger than my adopted sister Bella, which makes me sixteen years old. She and I are learning to get along better as we grow up. I remember the first time she referred to me as her sister, it made my heart feel full, she was thirteen and I was eleven. Bella and I are relatively cool, but oh my fuck I hate her boyfriend, Edward. He has caused my sister so much pain and so much heartache, plus he reads my mind without my permission. This leads us to where we are now, in a stolen car speeding down the roads in Italy heading to rescue her sparkling boytoy. The only reason I agreed to go is because Alice asked, and I have a hard time saying no to the pixie like girl. She’s one of my best friends.
“Bella, you need to go! He won’t see you coming.” Alice exclaims and lets her out to run the streets of Volterra.
Once we are parked in a parking garage Alice freezes eyes slightly glazed over. “Alice what do you see?” I asked, getting out of the car.
“y/n/n stay here in the car,” Alice pleads with me.
“Hell no! They have my older sister in a room full of less than friendly vampires! Alice, I love you to death, but I am not staying here with Bella in there.” I state looking Alice in her Golden eyes.
“I am not going to win this one am I.” Alice sighs out.
“Nope, not a chance sorry.” I say as we start to walk in the shadowed streets of Volterra towards the castle.
We look down over a ledge and see Bella and Edward talking to two men in grey cloaks. Alice takes my hand in her cold one, “stay behind me.” she quietly whispers to me and jumps dragging me with her.
“Now boys we wouldn’t want to cause a scene now, would we?” she asks purposely shielding me from view of the two men even though they could more than likely smell me, they know I am there.
Curious and tired of standing behind Alice I move very slowly so I am standing slightly to the left but still behind her. I get a good look at the two men; one is short yet still taller than me with sandy blonde hair and striking red eyes. My gaze switches to the other man who is very very tall, at least 6ft 3, if not taller. He has broad shoulders, nice biceps, and a strong face with the same striking crimson eyes. My breath catches in my throat when his hard red gaze lands on me and I swear I see his eyes soften, “Wait! I told you to stay behind me!” Alice grabs me to gently push me behind her again. She freezes when the tall man growls at her.
‘Wow he’s hot for a vampire.’ I think in my head
“y/n No!” Edward scolds me like a child
“Dammit Edward, I told you to stay out of my Fucking head.” I yelled angrily at him.
“Language little Dove.” I hear a sultry voice say, it sends a slight shiver down my spine and relaxes me at the same fucking time.
“Sorry, but Seriously Edward, stay, out, of, my, head! You are not ruining this trip for me; I was pulled out of bed to rescue your stupid ass, the least you can do is let me have my thoughts in peace.” I sternly grit out.
“You didn’t have to come.” He spat out at me
I walk towards Edward in anger, “Edward you know better than anyone else as to why I must be here, you are always reading my thoughts, I know you heard them that night and yet you didn’t say anything, I was hospitalized because you couldn’t use your gift for good. If you had told Bella what I was thinking about I could been helped but you only tell her my secrets when it is amusing to you. I am not allowed to be alone until my therapy is up.”
“Watch yourself.” he growls standing tall a bit in front of Bella.
“No, you watch yourself! Mr. I’m too good to stay with my sister, if you wouldn’t have left her like you did none of this would have happened.” I find myself walking closer to Edward until I feel arms go around my waist not allowing me to move further.
“at least Bella doesn’t find a heartless killer attractive.” he states
Shocked I let out a laugh and remove the arms from my waist, “Seriously, Y/n!” Bella exclaims
“Oh! Come on Bella! Get over yourself Edward isn’t a saint either. I know he’s killed people too” I state still in the arms of the strong man I don’t know.
“y/n, he kills innocent people.” She whines out like a child.
“And Edward hasn’t?” I question
“don’t talk about him like that.” I roll my eyes at Bella comment. I love my sister but she can be such a hypocrite at times.
Bella comes stepping towards me with fire burning in her eyes. Bella starts to raise her hand when I am pulled behind a strong body and her hand is grabbed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A rough voice states.
I see Bella become even paler as she walks back up to Edward. Before anymore commotion could happen, I see a young-looking girl walk towards us, “Demetri, Felix, Aro sent me to see what was taking you so long. “ She stops walking and glances over us, “I can see why, the Masters will be please with this, this way.”
In silence we follow the girl though I am stopped by a cold hand gingerly pulling me back and to face him. “Are you alright, little dove.” the tall man asks bending down to my height to look me in my eyes.
“Yes, I am alright, thank you.” I feel my face get warm yet I maintain eye contact as I respond.
“Does he always treat you like that?” he asks as we start to catch up with the others, my cheeks are flushed warm.
“Yeah, he’s a dickh-” “Language Little one.” I am interrupted by the gaint man whose name I have yet to learn.
“I’m Sorry Giant.” I say shyly walking forward not looking at the man.
“Giant?!?” He questioned sounding a bit offended, maybe.
“Well, I don’t know your name, so Giant it is.” I smile at him softly
“I’m Felix Volturi, what is your name little Dove?” He finally introduces himself to me
“Nice to finally put a name to a face, I'm y/n swan, Bella's adopted sister.”
“A pretty name for a Pretty girl.” he says, and I blush so red, I'm probably redder than Felix’s eyes.
I notice that we are outside the throne room, and I start to get nervous, “Don’t be scared little Dove no one will harm you. He gently leads me into the throne room with his head on the small of my back in an oddly comforting way. I know that deep down I should feel frightened, but I feel very safe with the tall vampire who could kill me with only his pinky finger. We walk in and stop a little bit behind Alice and the blonde vampire.
“Felix how nice of you to finally join us, and you brought another human with you.”
“My apologies masters.” He marches forward leaving me behind Alice to give this other vampire his hand. After a few moments he starts to laugh, “magnifico.” he turns his red gaze towards me, “may I?” he asks as he slowly makes his way to me.
Frightened I look around the room for Felix, “little dove I promise it’s okay, no one is going to hurt you with me around.” Felix says as he gently rubs my back to soothe me.
With one last glance at Felix, I just nod and put my hand out for the vampire to take. “Aro reads thoughts y/n kind of like myself.” Edward states
‘Edward, I thought I told you to stay out of my head.’ I think and then I hear Aro giggle a bit at that thought. He turns to the tired looking vampire and the tired vampire just nods his head, “True mates they are.”
Bella seems to connect the dots faster than I do. “NO! I will NOT allow it,” Bella roughly grabs my wrist and pulls me behind her, I let out a wince of pain. I can see that this visibly upsets Felix, he marches towards Bella with eyes blazing red with anger.
“Keep your hands off of her and get away from her!” he growl out on his way towards her.
Before he can get to Bella, Edward maneuvers past me to push Bella behind him. This causes her to knock into me in the process and I fall to the hard ground, putting my hands out to catch myself before my face hits the hard ground with a groan. The short blonde vampire gently helps me back to my feet, “Are you okay little human?” He asks softly checking on me
“Thank you, I will be fine.” I say with a nod and turn back towards the commotion.
I can see Edward trying to take on the giant Vampire himself which is kind of pitiful to watch as I see Felix throw him around like it was nothing, “wow.” I whisper under my breath memorized.
“Y/n Y/M Swan!” Bella scolds me after they are done fighting, and Edward is back near her.
“What, it’s not my fault!” I exclaim, He’s hot I think in my head
“He kills people Y/N!” Bella tries to argue
“Oh, Come on Bella get over yourself! Edward is no saint either.” I shoot back, this makes Felix look at me with pride and Edward glares back at me.
“Cullen, you better relax your gaze when you look at her before I relax it for you.” Felix shoving a cloak into his arms roughly before making his way to me.
“Are you alright?” he asks me wiping some hair out of my face and placing it behind my ear.
“yeah, I am fine Felix, thank you.” I say blushing
“Demetri please escort them out.” Aro states going to sit back on his throne.
I start to walk towards the door behind my sister, “Not you y/n, we have a lot to discuss.” Aro states
Bella stops walking and turns, “I’m not leaving her alone, what needs to be said can be said here and now.”
“Y/n you are to stay here in Volterra with Felix.” Aro bluntly states
I feel my face get hot and my hands start to shake, my breathing quickens; I am going to have a panic attack. Felix can sense my accelerated heartbeat and brings me into a comforting hug. A gentle almost nonexistent humming rumbles in Felix chest starting calm me down.
“She can’t stay, she’s only 16.” Bella tries to reason with the old vampire king
Once I am calm enough, I turn in Felix’s arms looking up into his eyes, “Please allow me to return to Forks long enough for me to graduate, after my graduation I am more than willing to come back and stay with you no complaints.” I plead with the gentle giant.
“Do I have your word?” Aro questions
“Of course, I never break an oath.” I state sincerely
Aro waits a moment “Very well, you may go back...but only until graduation, in two years Felix will be coming to bring you home.”
“Thank you I am so grateful.” I say with a serious tone.
“You may all leave at sundown until then you will be brought to a different room. Dinner will be here shortly.” The blonde king grumbles out.
I turn and look up at Felix, I wrap my hand under his arms as I am to short to reach his shoulders with my 5’4 frame. I squeeze him as tight as I can which doesn’t do much to him, after a second he gently places his arms around my waist, “When will I see you again?” I ask meekly resting my chin on his chest straining my neck a bit
“I will try my best to visit you when I can Little one but I am not certain.” He says and gently kisses my forehead with his cold lips, “Now go with Demetri.”
Demetri leads us to a different room, “Don’t leave here until sundown.” He states and turns to leave, smiling at me softly on his way out.
I am stuck in this room with Alice watching Bella and Edward being all lovey Dovey. After about an hour of the torture of watching the couple, the door opens and a person walks in, I don’t pay it any mind as I think it is just Demetri. I am very much pleasantly surprised when I hear the voice of the one and only Felix, “Little Dove, will you please come with me.”
Bella and Edward both perk up at this question, “No she isn’t leaving this room with you!” Bella exclaims
“Bella let her go, Felix won’t do anything to hurt her, in fact she is the safest with him than anyone else, vampire or otherwise, there is no one safer for her to be around.” Alice comes to my aid by saying this.
Without another word from my sister or Edward I take Felix's outstretched hand and allow him to gently pick me up off the cold stone floor. He doesn’t release his gentle grip on my hand once I am standing. He keeps my hand in his as he leads me through the castle. We stop as he opens a new door, “Lady’s first.”
I walk into what seemly is a bedroom, I can feel my nerves slightly rise when he shuts the door behind him. “Hey, it’s okay, relax cara mia it’s okay. I figured that you would want to talk somewhere more private.” He says while sitting at a table by a huge bookshelf. Amazed, I walk over to the bookshelf and gently run my fingers along the leather spines of the books as I walk past them in fascination. Most of these are first editions kept in pristine condition, these books are very much loved.
I stop when I hear his voice, “Do you like read?”
I turn my attention to him, back now to the bookshelf and I answer, “Very much so,” I pause, “Have you read all these?”
“Yes, I have actually, you have a lot of extra time on your hands when your immortal.” he jokes, “so tell me, what’s your favorite genre of book.”
I kind of giggle out of embarrassment, “As ironic as it sounds, I really enjoy fantasy.”
Felix nods his head and makes his way over to the shelf directly in front of me. He gently places one hand on my hip and with the other he reaches to the top of the bookshelf with minimal effort. He pulls a small but thick leather book from above my head.
When he brings the book down to my height his cold hand releases my hip to present the book to me, “Here little Dove, this one is called The Bloody Chamber, it was published in 1979 and it is a collection of short stories.”
I gently run my fingers over the leather cover with gold writing across it. “Felix, this is a first edition, I can’t take this back to Forks with me.” I make eye contact with his memorizing red ones, which I noticed are brighter now that he has fed.
“yes, you can, I trust you to take care of it.” He states like it was the most obvious thing ever.
With a smile I pull him in for a hug “Thank you Fe! I’ll take really good care of it.”
“I know you will.”
“Fe?” I question
“Yes Dove?” he replies looking down at me
“How tall are you?” I question
“I’m 6 foot 7.” he replies with amusement
“How is that even possible.”
“I was a gladiator before I was turned by Aro.”
“Really? That is so cool!” I pause before questioning. "Will you help me with my history test next year.”
“Of course, once I figure out contact information that is.” Felix states
My smile dropped slightly, my phone... I left it back in forks, “I left my phone in forks, and I don’t know my new phone number yet.”
“you’re okay, I need to get myself a phone anyway, until then how about I write to you.”
“I would really like that a lot Felix.” I look and see that the sun is starting to set over the horizon.
“I should probably get you back to your sister before she thinks I ran away with you.” he jokes and leads me back to the room we were waiting in.
I giggle as we head towards the small room, “Yeah that’s probably for the best unfortunately.”
“Don’t you worry Dove soon I won’t have to give you back.” He smiles out.
“I really hate goodbyes, so I’ll see you later Felix.” I say feeling my tear ducts start to swell with tears as I already feel such a strong pull to him.
“See you later Dove, Stay out of trouble for me okay.” He says handing me the book from earlier.
“I promise, stay safe please.” I say grabbing the book with our hands accidentally touching.
Before I go, I stand on my tippy toes and place my hands on his shoulders to help steady myself; he places his hands on my hips to steady me further. I gently kiss him on the cheek as a goodbye gesture. I make my way over to alice with a small smile. As I walk away arm and arm with Alice, I see his eyes widen slightly in shock.
Alice and I let Bella and Edward go in front of us, “So did he follow through with kissing you?” she asks teasingly
“What no, we just talked and he gave me a book. It was really sweet” I smile sweetly
“You like him already, don’t you?” she asks
“I’m pretty sure I might, I do feel safe with him.” I state
“You and him are going to be really happy, I’ve seen it. You both are going to bring out the good in each other.” she finishes her statement fondly. “It was honestly what I was wishing for Edward and Bella too but it’s not looking very good.”
When Bella and I finally make it home we face the wrath of Charlie Swan. It was more so pointed at Bella than myself. This is because she left me no choice, I had to go. Bella had to be home by 4 pm every day, I however got to stay out until 5pm. Our punishment is going to be in effect until the end of the school year. I run up to my room after we are done with Charlie’s lecture, and I sit on my queen size bed. I gently opened the book that Felix had given me. I let my eyes scan the words on the pages only carefully turning them with the softest touch to not transfer too much of my skin's oils back on to the original parchment.
I read the first short story before putting my bookmark into the book and gently placing it on the bookshelf where it will remain safe. I crawl into bed and place my head on the pillow as I start to drift off into a deep sleep thinking of Felix. I hope I get a letter from him soon.
taglist:
@small-town-wayward-daughter @venusdelaroix @trashy-panda777 @kezibear143 @smithmallory13 @im-as-mad-as-a-wax-bananna @sunsetswurve @believinghurts
@xcastawayherosx @iloveslasher @yikeskatz
@melinsk1 @ssa--holmes @artaxerxesthegreat @jenfox25 @lacychick @smileykiddie08 @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx
#twilight imagine#twilight imagines#twilight x reader#volturi imagine#felix volturi imagine#felix volturi x reader#felix volturi imagines#twilight x you
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
Safe. (Part Five)
Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho
Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.
Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only MDNI.
Chapter WC: 5K
AN: (1) Two chapters in one week feels excessive - but it's finished, and it’s Minho's BIRTHDAY after all, and also I think I’d like to start posting on Fridays anyway. (2) I don’t want to talk about the unspeakably preposterous and unbelievable practicality/mechanics of one of these smut scenes. You will know it when you see it and you will shush. *Suspension of disbelief rabble rabble*. Thank you, that is all.
~ PART FIVE ~ [Series M. List Here]
You’re setting the table for supper when you hear the key to the front door twist in the lock. Your stomach hardens and you eye Christopher sitting in the living room. You wonder when someone will be able to open your front door without you thinking that they’re going to come barreling through to hurt you, but it’s only Minho.
“You can go,” Minho casually instructs Chris, who instantly stands and gives you a nod.
“Here,” you call Christopher over, and hand him a to-go box. You made way too much and even though you’re still sore at him for spilling your secrets, you want the man to eat. He takes it with a smile and a thank you, then heads out.
Minho waits for him to shut it completely before joining you in the kitchen.
“God that smells amazing, what did you make?” he wraps his hands around you from behind, his head dipping into the small of your neck and shoulder.
“Spicy chicken, fried rice, and a cucumber salad because I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you eat a fucking vegetable,” you smile.
He chuckles, “You take such good care of us,” he smiles against your face before kissing your cheek.
You briefly eye the front door, “Where’s Hyunjin?”
Minhos cheerful expression fades for a split second, but he plucks a cucumber slice out of the bowl and corrects himself, “He went home to clean up a bit. He’s coming.”
“You didn’t clean up?” you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Love, I’ve been doing this a long time, trust me when I say I’m clean as a whistle,” he explains.
You shrug, “Okay, but it’s not polite to eat before everyone arrives, so put that salad in the refrigerator to keep it cool please,” you instruct as you slide the chicken and rice into the oven to keep warm.
Minho does as he’s told, surprisingly, then looks at you, “I’m sorry.”
Your brows furrow, “Sorry?”
He nods, “I’m sorry for what I said to you in your room that day, I’m sorry for threatening to frame you for selling drugs out of the house, I’m sorry for ever giving you a reason to think I would hurt you.”
You’d been thinking all afternoon of how you want to talk, of what you want to say to both of them this evening, but this you were not expecting.
You let out a steady breath and nod, “I guess what I wonder then, is why? Why would you say those things? If you truly never intended to hurt me, then why would you say such awful things?”
He presses his lips into a line and traces the streaks in the marble countertop.
“Well?” you urge.
“I’ve acted the way I’ve acted because I wanted you to hate me. You can’t lose people you love if you love no one and no one loves you. My feelings would be easier to resolve and manage if you hated me,” he smiles sadly, “but when you said you weren’t comfortable being seen with me, I realized having you hate me was exceptionally painful, so I did what I do when I get hurt or angry and acted like a fucking asshole. When you looked at me that day, scared and sad…I realized that I’d fucked up.”
“You are so…” you sigh, “Unstable. You know that, right?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “I’m aware.”
You think of his wife and your heart aches for him again, “Were you ever going to tell me about her?” you wonder.
His eyes widen a bit, he doesn’t need any clarification to know who you’re asking about.
“Seola? I don’t know,” he answers honestly, “Probably…eventually. I don’t talk about her often, I don’t…I don’t like to. How did you find out about her?”
“Jisoo did my hair and makeup for the Casino night,” you tell him, you can’t quite measure if he’s upset about you knowing or not, and you don’t want to throw Christopher under the bus, despite his loose lips. Jisoo feels like a safer option.
He sighs, “Seola…I loved her with my whole heart. I told her early on that she should stay as far away from me as possible, but she wouldn’t,” he smiles. “When she was taken from me, I never thought I’d ever be able to have feelings for anyone else, I didn’t want to. Then you and I met, and at first I thought I could treat you like the other people I’ve slept with over the past few years, use you the way you were using me - for human contact, to feel good, but…” he trails off, unsure of how to explain it.
“...but it feels like more,” you finish for him.
“Yes,” he nods, stepping closer to you, taking your face gently between his hands, “it does.”
He leans down slowly, gently, and kisses your lips.
“Please don’t leave us,” he whispers, “don’t leave me.”
“Then don’t ever make me feel like I need to be afraid of you,” you whisper back.
“I won’t,” he answers.
“Don’t let them hurt me again,” you add.
“No one will ever lay a hand on you again baby, not as long as I’m breathing,” he promises.
You press your lips against his, pull his shirt with your fingertips, drawing him into you. His tongue traces the lines of your bottom lip and you greet it with your own. You melt as his hands roam your body, under your shirt to squeeze and caress the warm skin. You moan into his mouth and he pushes you against the countertops.
You feel him falter and he pulls away, the two of you staring at each other; you wondering why he stopped, and him looking hindered by something unseen.
“Do you have feelings for Hyunjin?” he asks. You were expecting this question from one or both of them at some point this evening, but it still hits you abrasively. You’re not willing to lie though. If you’re doing this, all of it, then there is no room for a growing pile of lies between you.
“Yes.”
“Do you have feelings for me?”
“Yes, I do,” you nod, lifting your fingers to his hair to play with the dark strands.
“That’s going to get extremely messy,” he warns.
“Then it will fit right in, because all of this is a mess,” you say, looking hard at the floor. He lifts your chin up so your gaze finds his.
“Is that really what you want? Both of us? I need to know.”
You think for a moment, think about how you should answer, think about what his response is going to be.
“I want you both.”
“Is it because I’m not enough? Or because he’s not enough?” he asks, and you hear the defense in his voice, the blow to his pride and it pains you.
You shake your head, lace your fingers with his, “It’s not that. Not at all. You are both more than enough. It’s because you both make me feel things that I crave, because you are two polar opposite men, who make me feel so strongly, and so good when I’m with you but in such very different ways, and maybe I’m just being selfish, I know I am actually, but I don’t want to give up the way I feel when I’m with either of you.”
Minho is about to respond when the knock on the door drags both your attentions away from the conversation.
“It’s me, Hyunjin,” a muffled voice calls out from behind the door.
You squeeze Minhos arm and he lays his hand over yours, giving you a halfhearted smile, but a smile, and that’s better than nothing.
You cross the space and open the front door to Hyunjins sweet smile, the top half of his jet black hair tied up into a wet bun, the scent of his shampoo still fragrant.
“Hi,” you smile.
“Hi beautiful.”
🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️
Dinner starts out dreadfully silent. So silent in fact that you can barely touch your food. Minho and Hyunjin dig in though, stuffing chicken, rice and cucumbers in at an alarming pace that makes you smile. They’re used to silence, to awkwardness. They’ve learned to navigate it, thrive in it, and carry on regardless of the tension.
“Well, I’d ask you both how your day was but I suppose I know,” you finally attempt a joke, but it doesn’t come out like you intended it to and no one laughs, including you. You grab the cold beer you served with the chicken and take a very long swig.
Minho wipes his mouth with a napkin and gives you a soft, understanding look, “You wanted us here Love, it’s your meeting so to speak,” he says.
Hyunjin looks between the two of you as he chews his food, he seems to understand he’s missed part of the conversation, the conversation you started with Minho but this is all ass backwards and not how you wanted to start your ‘meeting.’
“Alright, yes,” you clear your throat, “I do have things I want to discuss with both of you.”
Both men take a break from eating and sit a little straighter, giving you their full attention. You realize now that your hope at a more casual conversation over food was a fruitless endeavor, these men are too serious for casual.
“I realized something today,” you begin, “I’ve realized that despite what I’ve told myself the past several months, that I am part of this organization. I’ve helped all of you at one point or another, and maybe I’ve just helped in the least criminal of ways, but I have committed crimes with you whether I like it or not. I’ve heard things, I know names, I know what you’ve done, and the things you intend to do, I am an accomplice,” you say it out loud and although it makes it real, there is a part of you that’s relieved to say it to just get it out there.
Neither Hyunjin or Minho say anything so you continue, “I was going to run, but I think that running away would just mean that I’m running straight into more trouble for myself, for one. But also…” you trail off, “but also, I don’t want to run away from either of you.”
Hyunjin looks at Minho so quickly that you think it could give him whiplash, but Minho doesn’t react to any of it.
“But before we talk about that, or what that means, or how to even navigate it, I have terms I’d like to lay out,” you look at both of them.
“What are your terms Love?” Minho asks, all business, and you wonder if he’s about to produce a pen and notebook to take notes in.
“First, I don’t like the way some of your guys speak to me as if I’m your personal fuck toy,” you say.
“Seungmin.”
Hyunjin and Minho say his name simultaneously.
“Okay yes, Seungmin, but I don’t want him punished or whatever. I would just like it made clear that while we don’t have to like each other, we don’t need to speak so disrespectfully to one another, and not to sound like a child but he always starts it,” you take another swig of beer. Minho looks as though he’s holding in a chuckle and this puts you at ease a bit.
“It will be made clear to him and to all my employees that you are to be treated and spoken to with absolutely nothing but respect,” Minho nods with a smile, “What else?”
“I don’t want to know everything, I don’t need to know everything, but I also don’t want to be treated like Christopher - as just an employee who does as she’s told and is only told the bare minimum. I want to be trusted, and I want you to talk to me freely about things that you need to get off your mind, or things that impact me in any way,” you say.
“Trust is earned,” Minho says, “but after everything you’ve been through, I believe you’ve more than earned it, so done.”
“Finally,” you take a breath, “it’s been hard for me since the night I got attacked to be alone here, or anywhere for that matter, and I know you both have things that need done, that you can’t be here all the time, and I appreciate Christopher, and Jisung, and the others…but I want you two - not necessarily at the same time - but I want the two of you.”
The room sinks back into that familiar silence again and you wait impatiently for someone to say something, you fork some chicken and stuff it in your mouth for something to do.
“Fine, I’ll be the one to say it,” Hyunjin half laughs, “Are we talking about fucking each other or protection detail?”
It’s Minhos turn to take an uncomfortably large swig of beer and you have to force the small bite of chicken down your throat roughly.
“I…well…” you stutter, “In this specific moment I’m talking about who is here in the house with me,” you clarify.
“And what about outside this specific moment?” Minho asks for more clarification and you realize that the time has come, whether you were ready for it or not, to tell them both what you actually want. Is it what you want? You’ve never attempted a relationship that had more than two people in it, but none of those relationships turned out very well so you can’t really cite them as reliable sources, can you?
“Honestly?” you inhale deeply and let it go, “Honestly, I wouldn’t be opposed to having you both in the other way at the same time, I’ve never done that before, it would be my first time - but the thought of it makes me wet just imagining it.”
Hyunjin bites his bottom lip and sits back in his seat. To say you’re suddenly feeling warm is an understatement, so you chug the rest of your beer then get up for another.
“What do you think about that?” Minho asks Hyunjin.
Hyunjin licks his lips and you think you might combust, “Well, it wouldn’t be my first time,” he says with a smile that might be a little too proud, “it could be lots of fun,” he says avoiding eye contact with Minho and only looking at you. You swallow hard.
“How many times have the two of you…” Minho starts, but you answer before he can finish.
“Hyunjin and I have never had sex,” you tell him, trying to keep any emotion from your voice like how it’s a bit disappointing that you’ve not slept with Hyunjin, or how you’re scared that Minho will be upset if you’d said you had, or how excited you are that you might actually get fucked by both of the men sitting with you at this table.
“Hmm,” Minho nods, “I see.”
“What do you think about it, boss?” Hyunjin finally looks at him, “We both said we didn’t want to share after all.”
Only Hwang Hyunjin could look at Lee Minho and say that without it sounding like a challenge, like a threat.
Minho exhales slowly and shrugs, “It may be a shock to some, but I’m not a closed minded man, however, I am a possessive one,” he looks at you and chews on the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing with consideration, “so the answer to your question is that I’m not sure.”
Your heart sinks a little, and you’re unsure of what to say.
“We can work with possessive,” Hyunjin says, the corners of his mouth slipping into a coy smile, as if he’s flirting with Minho and your clit throbs, you can feel the way you’re soaked and you press your thighs together.
“Oh?” is all Minho responds with.
“Mm,” Hyunjin nods, “I’m not a power player, I don’t have to be a top, I don’t have to be a bottom, I’m not picky, and you should know by now I’m very good at being told what to do.”
You watch as Minhos expression changes, he looks at Hyunjin in a way you’ve never seen him look at any of his guys before, and then he looks at you, “You’re being awfully quiet now darling.”
It takes you a solid three seconds to realize he’s talking to you, you’re gripping the neck of your beer so hard it might bust.
“I’m just, thoroughly enjoying this conversation,” you grin.
“How much?” he asks.
Well. That was an invitation if you’ve ever heard one. You swallow your sip of beer and stand, shuffling out the wrinkles of your cotton skirt and step closer to him, “Would you like to see?” you ask, bunching up the skirt in your fists higher and higher until the tops of your thighs are exposed.
Minho chews his lip as his fingertips trace delicate lines up your legs, finally disappearing beneath the fabric, pushing your panties to the side so he can swirl them in your arousal. You gasp, tilting your head back as he moves his fingers against you.
“My, my,” he whispers, voice gravelly with want, and he looks as if he wants to knock everything off the table to fuck you on it. You wouldn’t be opposed.
Hyunjin sits motionless on the other side, watching, and though you’ve never really considered how it would make you feel, you find that having him watch feels very good.
Minho removes his fingers from your cunt and uses them to motion Hyunjin over. Your heart starts pounding. Hyunjin moves slowly, but you can see his erection straining against his pants.
“So Hyunjin has never played with you?” Minho asks, his eyes on Hyunjin.
“We’ve kissed…” you manage to speak between catching your breath.
“But he’s never tasted you? Your pussy that is?”
You shake your head back and forth.
“Go on then,” Minho looks at him darkly, touching Hyunjins mouth with his fingertips, spreading your slick across his bottom lip. Hyunjin sucks Minhos fingers into his mouth hungrily, a groan escaping from somewhere deep in his chest.
“I have to admit, knowing he’s not had you is pretty satisfying to me,” Minho chuckles, yanking his fingers from Hyunjins mouth, “I wonder how far I can push him before he comes undone?” he stands from the table, “Has everyone eaten? No ones starving anymore?” he asks the two of you and finishes off his beer.
“Not for food,” Hyunjin comments and winks at you.
“Then let’s go to the living room, shall we?” Minho grabs your hand and pulls you forward, Hyunjin following close behind.
Minho kisses you deeply, then takes a seat in the armchair, “Why don’t you help our girl out of her pretty clothes?”
“Gladly,” Hyunjin whispers, taking the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head, he tosses it across the room then drops to his knees as you unzip the side of your skirt. He helps you shimmy it down into a pool of fabric around your feet and you step away from it. Hyunjin looks up at you, his eyes scanning your body, and he hooks his fingers into your underwear, pulling them slowly down your legs.
“Don’t even think about putting your lips on her, not yet, I say when,” Minho instructs from the chair. Hyunjin freezes as if that’s exactly what he was about to do.
“Yes sir,” Hyunjin grins.
You want to interject and say that if Minho doesn’t give the go ahead soon, you might be the one coming undone, but you stay silent, you’re not sure what to do anyway, and something in your gut tells you it needs to happen like this, for them, in order for Minho to be right with it.
“Sit on the sofa, Love,” Minho tells you and you sit, like a good girl, on the sofa then look at him for further instruction. He laughs, “You look so eager darling, so fucking turned on, do you want me to be nice for you?”
“Yes,” you nod frantically, “Please.”
“Do you want him to taste your cunt finally?”
“Mmhmm,” you keep nodding, leaning back into the cushions, kneading your breasts.
“Spread your legs for him, so he can see how fucking gorgeous you are,” he instructs.
You nearly go out of your mind watching Hyunjin crawl between your legs, his fingernails raking red lines up your thighs. Hyunjin looks behind at Minho for permission.
“First,” Minho halts him, “take your shirt and pants off, you look dreadfully uncomfortable.”
Hyunjin smiles and tears his shirt over his head, then stands briefly to remove his trousers before resuming his position between your legs.
“Now, make our princess cum,” Minho grins.
Hyunjin does what he’s told, but he also takes his sweet time, licking and sucking kisses on the inside of your thighs and you wonder if he’s savoring the moment like you. This heated, passionate affair that seems to have been building up since the night you sewed stitches into his side.
Finally, he grabs hold of your thighs roughly and drags you to the edge of the sofa, “you ready Doll?”
“God, yes…”
His tongue is eager against your flesh, but in true Hyunjin fashion, is also quick, soft, controlled and deliberate. He was told to make you cum, and he’s honing in on that target like his life depends on it.
“How does it feel, baby?” Minho asks and you manage to turn your head towards him, “let’s hear you.”
“It feels so fucking good, he’s so good at it,” you whimper, looking back down at Hyunjin. His eyes lock with yours and you watch as his tongue appears and disappears between your folds. You rest your head back onto the sofa and moan, your hips beginning to move in time with his mouth, you’re so close.
“She’s about to cum, I can tell by her face,” Minho smiles, and you nod, unable to verbally confirm this, “let go baby, cum for him.”
Minhos deep, gravelly command paired with Hyunjins soft tongue lapping at you pushes you far beyond your capacity to hold yourself back. Your body quakes as your orgasm ripples over and over, your clit becoming so sensitive you have to physically push Hyunjins face away with your hands and plea with a quiet “stop.”
Hyunjin is totally out of breath as he sits back on his ankles, he wipes his mouth with his arm, eyes dark, and looks at Minho.
“How close are you to busting?” Minho chuckles.
“Very.”
Minho licks his lips, then unzips his pants, releasing his own cock from the confines of his clothes. He strokes himself gently then nods his head towards you, “Go on then, she loves getting fucked right after you eat her out, don’t you baby?”
“Yes,” you groan, “Very much.”
Hyunjin doesn’t hesitate a moment before ripping his boxers down and kicking them away, he takes your shoulders and shoves you down onto the sofa, propping one of your legs on the back and sliding between.
“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” Hyunjin warns.
“It’s okay,” you breathe, “you don’t have to make me cum again.”
“Yes he does,” Minho says coolly from the chair, “yes he fucking does.”
“Heard,” Hyunjin manages to tease.
Hyunjin lines himself up with you as you dig your nails into his shoulders, desperate for it, needing it. He pushes in slowly, and your eyes lock as he fills you to the hilt. Your lips part and you wiggle a bit, urging him to move, he does. He’s going impossibly slow, his brows knitted together in concentration.
“Fuck you’re perfect,” he moans, his hips speeding up just a bit. You can’t help but steal a look at Minho, who watches you both from the same chair he’s been sitting in, slowly stroking himself, lip tucked tightly between his teeth.
You lift your hips a bit to meet Hyunjins thrusts, sliding your hands down his sides, around his thighs to pull him closer, deeper.
“Hyunjin,” you whisper, his name a plea for him to do something, though you’re unsure of what. Feeling his cock drag in and out, hitting some delicious spot within, watching Minho look and hearing his little gasps every time you whimper or moan might actually be your undoing.
Hyunjins movements become more desperate, more erratic, and you’re sure he won’t be able to hold himself back much longer. You take his face in your hands and he looks at you, “Make me cum,” you gently drag his hand down to your neck, his breath stutters as he wraps his long, delicate fingers around your throat to hold you down gently while he fucks into you. You push back with every thrust, causing a rough but welcome collision and you cum so hard around his cock that you can feel it in your very bones. You cry out, hips bucking just a bit off the sofa as you spasm around him.
He thrusts into you only twice more before freezing, his breath escaping in a muffled moan as he buries his face into your neck.
Hyunjin pulls you towards him and captures your lips with his.
“Perfect,” he whispers.
Minho finally makes his way to the couch, Hyunjin moves aside, practically collapsing.
“Feel better?” Minho smiles, rubbing circles on your legs.
You nod, claiming his hand in yours to lace your fingers together.
He looks between your legs, “You’re a mess,” he drags the back of his finger up your slit, swirling Hyunjins leaking fluids around your own. You shudder with a gasp at the stimulation.
“Come, let’s go upstairs,” Minho stands and extends his hand to you; he pauses briefly in front of Hyunjin and stares, then caresses his jawline with his thumb, “you did good, impressive. Come on.”
Minho leads you both into the master bath where he reaches into the walk-in to start a shower. You step close to him and start undoing the buttons of his shirt, looking up at him as he strokes your hair. You continue silently undressing him until the three of you stand totally naked in the middle of your steamy bathroom.
Minho grabs your chin with his fingertips and draws you into him, his mouth desperate for yours and your lips crash together with urgent moans. In your peripheral you can see Hyunjin step into the shower and rinse himself off, he reaches out and tugs on you and Minho, who barely takes his mouth off you to shuffle into the warm water.
“Is this what you wanted?” Minho asks in a grunt as he picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “Wanted to be our needy little slut, so fucking pretty and sweet, getting fucked out by both of us?” he whispers as your back presses against the cold stone of the shower wall.
You grin like the cheshire cat and nod, “Mmhmm.”
Minho smiles and shakes his head at you before his lips overtake yours again, and you also feel Hyunjins hands roaming as he puts himself between your back and the wall, his body much warmer and less scratchy than the stone. You can feel Minhos hard erection sliding against your soaked pussy and your breath hitches. Hyunjins wet hands slide around your body and he fingers at your nipples, stroking and squeezing. Minho leans in and you watch through the steam as he takes Hyunjins mouth with his own, his cock rubbing against your clit as he positions himself to fuck you against Hyunjin.
This exceeds even your highest expectation of what this experience would be like. Feeling Minho bouncing you on his cock while you listen to the two of them moan into each others mouths, Hyunjins fingers circling your clit gently while the other hand takes turns playing with your breasts and yanking your hair to tilt your head back for neck kisses.
“Fuck,” you whine, the impossible ache inside you is building again, you can’t remember the last time you orgasmed three times in one evening, or if you ever have, but you’re going to.
“Gonna cum for me Love?” Minho presses his forehead against yours, breathless, pumping his hips up into you.
“Yes,” you half laugh in delirium, “Fuck, yes keep going…”
You can feel his fingertips digging into the sides of your ass, feel how desperate he is to finish, you lean your head forward to kiss him, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting as you reach your high. Your orgasm comes out in a choked gasp, your body completely spent, and you feel him pull out a bit and spill himself all over your cunt.
Hyunjin washes you off while Minho catches his breath then the three of you, unbothered to put on clothes or even dry off, collapse on your bed, drops of water everywhere but no one caring.
You’re not surprised that Minho pulls you in immediately, wrapping his arm around you tight - possessive.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” you sigh, eyes already shut and sleep getting closer and closer to overtaking you.
“Pleasure isn’t a bad thing people,” Hyunjin yawns, switches off the lamp, then flips to his side to properly sandwich you in. His long, lean arm draped over you while his fingers massage circles on Minhos shoulder. “It’s not this thing that has to be confined in a specific little box, used for one specific purpose at a time like it isn’t supposed to just be this fun, enjoyable thing-,”
“Hyunjin?” Minho grumbles with closed eyes.
“Yes boss?”
“Stop talking and go to sleep.”
“Yes boss,” he laughs.
Endnotes:
I think I'm going to try to tag my taglist besties in the comments this time and see how that goes and where it takes us.
As usual, if you've made it far enough to read this, here's your virtual smooch <3
#skz fanfiction#hyunjin fanfiction#Lee know fanfiction#skz smut#hyunjin smut#lee know smut#skz romance#hyunjin romance#Lee know romance#stray kids#hwang hyunjin x reader#lee know x reader#happy birthday lee know
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fem!Reader fluff, mention of love making, allusion to sex
Part 1 | Part 2
It's a sunday morning. The sun shines through the kitchen window and reaches your profile, seeming like a halo around your head. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes focused on the task at hand. You flip the pancake and feel a pair of big burly arms wrap around your torso from behind, "Good morning, lovie!" he breathes into your ear, his gruff morning voice sending shivers through your body. "Good morning, Si!" you mutter as you turn around to place a kiss on his lips. "You look beautiful today... as you do everyday... you're always beautiful, dove!" he rambles as he peppers kisses on every part of your pretty face, making you giggle. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. I made coffee too." "Perfect! Thank you, love." he says as he takes a seat at the table. You place his plate of pancakes with chocolate syrup and a cup of coffee in front of him. He nods gratefully as you seat down. You talk about some new events happening at work and he listens, occasionally asking questions or making sarcastic comments about your annoying coworkers. He stares at you in awe, wondering how he got so lucky. You both spend the rest of the day in each other's arms. He makes love to you, softly cooing praises into your ear as he brings you to a state of pure euphoria. You lazily plump down on the couch watching trash tv and making fun of the awful people on the shows, laughing your asses off. You stare at him in awe, wondering how you got so lucky. He snaps his fingers in front of your face, shaking you out of your trance. "Hey, what is it?" he asks, "You've been acting weird lately!" "What? Nothing, just thinking about... stuff." you ramble nervously. "Is there something wrong?" he questions worriedly. "No! It's just about work. I'm sorry I've been acting weird. You don't have to worry about it." you respond. Thank god he doesn't pry any further and only adds "I'm here if you need me. With anything. And I mean anything. If someone is bothering you-" "No, Si! No one is bothering me. I don't need you to murder anyone either. Just stressing about work. Too much pressure." you lie terribly and he looks at you through narrowed eyes but lets it slide. As night falls, you're curled up in bed together as you both have your books in hands and read peacefully in a comfortable silence. But your focus is on something else. Should you pop the question right now? Do it casually and get it over with. No, he deserves a proper proposal. You finally decide on the latter. "Hey!" his voice rattles you out of your thoughts. "What?" you ask, looking up at him. He's starting to get suspicious. You have to do it sooner than planned. You can’t take it any longer. "I asked if you wanted to sleep." he replies, "I'm starting to get worried, love. Just tell me that you're ok." You cup his cheeks in your hands and whisper "I'm ok, Si. No need to worry." and kiss him as you straddle his lap. You both end up panting heavily and giggling, bodies tangled together by midnight.
It's a saturday night. The moonlight shines through the branches of cherry blossoms and reaches you, standing amidst the trees in the garden, making a dreamy scene. You fidget with the zipper of your jacket and fumble with your fingers nervously as you wait for him. He finally arrives, in a suit, looking handsome as ever. "Hi, lovie." he greets you, kissing your lips lovingly. "Hey, Si." you respond, taking in his beautiful features alight by the moon. You take his hand in yours and guide him to the table. You both take your seats beside each other and start chatting about everything and nothing, unable to take your eyes and hands off each other, as the waiter places your orders in front of you. After dinner, you go silent, grab your purse in your shaky hands and pull out the small black box. His eyes widen and his mouth hangs open as you lock eyes with him. "Simon Riley,... you met me at my worst" you chuckle nervously, "and pulled me out of the dark abyss I was in. You brighten my skies every day and make me laugh with your awful dad jokes" you remark, making him laugh as tears start to well up in both your and his eyes, "Do you want to be a dad? You've already got the jokes down... ok, that's a discussion for another time." You both chuckle again, "Fuck! I'm really terrible at this. I didn't prepare a speech and decided to wing it. I'm so sorry." he nuzzles your cheek, wiping away your tears as he pulls you in for a kiss, reassuring you that it's ok. "I'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me. I love you. Everything about you. Everything that you are. Your light and your darkness. You're the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." you continue, "Simon Riley, will you marry me?" you finally ask as you open the box and hold it in front of him. You're both sobbing at this point. "Yes!" he gets the word out and pushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately, both your feelings for each other poured into the kiss. You take his hand in yours and put the ring on his finger. "I'm all yours, love." he murmurs against your lips, "And I'm all yours, Si."
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty x reader
257 notes
·
View notes
Text
How It All Started… ~Pre-S1!Younger!Olivia Benson xFem Older!Detective!Partner!Reader
Summary— My own little take on how Liv ended up working for SVU. I know the story with Karen and the two year old, but in this AU, Reader is Liv’s first partner and this case causes her to move to SVU.
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: normal SVU related violence, talk of murder, blood, mentioned suicide, working the case, young and innocent Liv, etc.
Enjoy (;
It seemed to all have been arranged–Olivia sensed this when she finally entered her apartment that night and closed the door behind her. Looking back, it all made sense now. How could they have missed it?
A week ago, Olivia and you her partner had walked onto the fresh crime scene. You specialized in homicide cases, and this case was a homicide if they had ever seen one. Olivia blew into her gloves, sliding them onto her hands one at a time, as she walked into the kitchen where the body lay. She still was not completely used to the sight of a body, especially a girl as young as this one was, so she took a moment for some deep breaths, before she drew reality back into her head.
“Female vic, Ellie Paige, 17, shot in the head… Jesus…” You sighed, rubbing your forehead and staring at the splattered blood and then the body.
It wasn’t everyday that you two found a seventeen year old dead in a kitchen. Although it did happen more than you or Olivia would have liked. The girl was on her back, face up, with a singular bullet to the head. Blood was spilt across the floor and splattered across the cabinets from the shot. But something about this particular case got to both detectives.
“Time of death?” Olivia breathed out a question to the coronary who was standing near the dead girl’s body.
“In between 1 and 3am…” they responded.
“Mom a Katherine Paige is in the bedroom, apparently hysterical.” You spoke out, looking to Olivia, “Liv, they waited for us to interview her.”
Olivia nodded, looking around the room once more, before following you into the adjoining room. In the main bedroom, there were two techs trying to calm an older woman down. The mother. You swiftly excused the techs, as Liv approached the woman.
“Ms. Paige. I’m Detetive Olivia Benson, and this is my partner Detective Y/N L/N. We are here to take your statement. Can you please tell us what happened?”
The woman’s hands were flailing and shaking as she paced back and forth. At the sound of Olivia’s voice, the woman stopped in her tracks and suddenly met Liv’s gaze.
“I don't, I don't understand… I don’t understand…!” Ms. Paige exclaimed, “I… my daughter, Oh God my daughter!!”
The mother then proceeded to break down, and Olivia was swift to grab her before she fell to the floor. She continued to ramble.
“Hey, let's get her out of here. Take her to the precinct…” You murmured lowly for only Liv to hear as you nudged her lightly.
Olivia looked up at you and nodded, proceeding to get up and guide Ms. Paige through the room, past the kitchen, and out the door. After she successfully got the woman in their patrol car, the ride to the precinct was rather smooth.
Both detectives made sure that the woman was comfortable, placing her in the family room at the precinct, a colorful and bright room, designated for family interviews. Olivia sat with the woman on a couch, while you watched on the opposing side of the mirror window.
“Ms. Paige, I know this is hard… But can you do your best to try and tell me what happened…? What is the last thing you remember?” Olivia gently prompted the woman, after letting the woman calm down a bit.
“I… I remember going to bed… I was really tired…” the woman stammered.
The young brunette detective squeezed Ms. Paige’s hands with her own in reassurance.
“That’s good, really good. What is the last thing you remember about Ellie?”
“Ellie… Oh Ellie… I… I remember Ellie doing the dishes…” The woman stammered in response.
You watched your partner continue the interview with a similar pattern of responses. Meanwhile, you began to look over the current files of the case. When Olivia was finished had let Ms. Paige go for the night, she came back to her desk across from you, who were quizzically looking at the case file.
“What’s up…?” Liv asked you, nudging you slightly along with her prompted words.
You were sucked back into reality from your thoughts, sucking in a breath before starting.
“Nothing I just…”
“You think the mom looks good for it…?” Olivia asked with a chuckle, accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Yea… Yeah I do.” You chuckled in response.
The young brunette sat in her desk chair and sighed.
“It is convenient that she doesn’t remember anything…” Olivia admitted.
Now that you had gotten your partner hooked on the theory, you lit up and started to present your case with gleaming and intrigued expression.
“Yes, and prints on the gun came back and guess who’s prints were on it…?” You said with a glimmer in his eyes.
“You already compared prints?” Olivia chuckled again when you nodded and hummed in response, “Ok ok, I’m going to guess the prints belong to the mom…”
“Bingo.”
“But she had no gunshot residue…” Liv sighed.
“Aha! But neither did the girl!” You exclaimed.
“Okay… But doesn’t that speak for a break-in?” Olivia questioned skeptically.
You shot your partner another quizzical look.
“A break-in where they only shot the girl, didn’t take anything, didn’t harm the mom, and they left the gun…? Nuh uh, I don’t think so…” you insisted.
“I don’t know… Something is off about this one…” Liv hummed.
“No signs of struggle on the girl. If she knew her attacker, she may not have put up as much of a fight…”
Liv sat back in her chair, in thought.
“What…?” You chuckled.
~~
Two weeks later, the Katherine Paige was arrested for the murder of her daughter, Ellie Paige. But nonetheless, something didn’t sit right with Olivia.
“Benson, you’re still getting used to this job… it’s okay to be wrong. That’s part of working homicide, sometimes our theory’s turn out to be just that, theories.” You explained, looking across your desk to the young brunette.
Olivia still wasn’t convinced. Her gut told her it was something else. But she was forced to move on with her partner, go to the next homicide case.
That was until one of Ellie’s friends stepped into the precinct. She told the detectives a story about how Ellie’s mother abused her and how Ellie was suicidal. Olivia’s gut wrenched having to interview this girl, and by the time she met you on the other side of the glass, she wanted to throw up.
“Gotta hand it to you, now your theory has more credibility… maybe your gut was right.”
“How could a mother do that to her child…?” Liv breathed out.
You handed the young woman a cup of water. She took it gratefully.
The case was reevaluated and closed out, ruled a suicide. But it changed Olivia. And four weeks later, Benson was transferring to SVU.
~~~
Olivia Benson Masterlist
#olivia benson x reader#Olivia benson fluff#Olivia benson fanfiction#olivia benson#mariska hargitay#captain olivia benson#mariska hartigay#law and order#law and order special victims unit#law and order svu#law and order fanfiction#law and order fic#svu x reader#svu fanfiction#svu fic#l&o svu#svu25#svu#SVU fluff#law & order#law & order svu#law & order special victims unit
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
Violent Delights Have Violent Ends - Part 2
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
WC: 1.8k
TW: Serial killers, murders, blood, referencing to infidelity, descriptions of dead bodies, bugs
A/N: Enjoy part 2 babes!!!!
Part 1
The worst part about a crime scene was not seeing the dead bodies, it was smelling them as soon as you entered the house. However, seeing them was not exactly great either.
This would have been much better advice than Derek telling you seeing a dead body for the first time can be a bit freaky.
You don’t really know why you agreed to go to the crime scene, but God did you fucking regret it now. Your eyes were starting to water and your hands were ever so slightly shaking. It was clear to you that all the profilers around you knew what you felt. Even if you were hard to read, they would have known just by the way you stopped talking.
Hotch gently put his hand on your arm, causing you to jump slightly and give him a small smile. He led you both to the kitchen to sit down for a moment, giving you a moment away from the whole scene.
Looking at the pictures was so different than seeing it in person. Someone actually dipped their hand in the neck of someone else and wrote on the wall in their blood. And they were cold and calculated enough to put gloves on first so there was no DNA left behind. Fucking psychopath.
“Y/n?”
You looked up from your hands and let out a curt laugh when a tear fell down your cheek. “Shit. Sorry.” Quickly wiping it away, you looked back down at your hands. “Sorry, I just….”
“It’s a lot.”
“Why–why do you need me here Hotch.”
He nodded and looked back at the living room. “Because we have a feeling the way he’s positioning the bodies might help us figure something else out, and you are our resident expert.”
“Don’t let Reid hear you say that. He might just have an aneurysm.” You muttered, a small smile on your face.
It got Hotch to smile in response. “He knows that you know more about this than him. Don’t worry. Can you get back in there or would you like us to take pictures and send them to you?”
You shook your head and stood up. “I’m fine. Just an initial shock I guess. Thank you, Hotch.”
The two of you walked back into the living room, and you were still grateful that you decided to forgo lunch, not giving your stomach any ammo in case it decided to evacuate your body.
The scene was gruesome. The wife’s body was lying on the floor in front of the fireplace arms above her head as if she was lifting something. Her blonde hair had been stained red, almost purposefully with blood, and braided into two long braids that came down the front of her chest. The only indication of any blood on her body, besides the gaping wound on her neck, was that the palms of her hands were coated in now-dried blood.
“It’s um.” You closed your eyes for a second. “It’s John Singer Sargent.”
“The famous painter?” Spencer turned to look at you from across the room where he had been talking to Prentiss.
You nodded. “His, uh. Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth, where she um, lifts the crown onto her head…It’s massive, like seven feet tall, four feet wide, at the Tate Britain in London.”
“What does this have to do with her.” Derek gestured to the corpse on the floor. Spencer, who noted that you really couldn’t take your eyes off of the body, pulled out his phone and quickly found the painting you were referencing.
“Oh wow,” Morgan muttered. “He even dressed her in the same shade of green…”
“It’s one of the most famous portrayals of Lady Macbeth out there. Her dress was decorated with….” Your eyes widened.
“With what.” Hotch walked over to you and looked between you and the body, and then over to Spencer. “What was her dress decorated with.”
Spencer quickly made his way over to you and kneeled next to the wife. “Oh my god.”
“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Derek crossed his arms, unamused by the lack of information being spread around.
“Beetles. Ellen Terry’s dress was decorated with the wings of beetles.” You spoke up. _________________________________________________________
Spencer had volunteered to drive you back to the station so that you could look at the actual bodies of the previous victims to see if you could find more details that they had missed.
“This one, Spencer, she’s uh…” You bit your lip, looking at the first set of victims. “This was the Romeo and Juliet one right? Because she’s draped on top of him like every production and painting of Romeo and Juliet I’ve ever seen. If we have to go specifics then I would say probably “The Reconciliation of the Montagues and Capulets” by Leighton. And the um…” You placed that image down and hunted for another one.
“And this one is the Hamlet one since she’s positioned exactly like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Milais’ painting. The Pre-Raphelite one with all the flowers. Look at the sheet the unsub placed her on, it’s completely floral, and did the autopsy come back saying she had drowned, or was drowned and then resuscitated or something?”
Spencer nodded. He was honestly in awe of you. The way you reset your head when you left the crime scene. The urgency you had developed. The sheer breadth of knowledge you possessed just continued to make him fall head first for you. Not that he could ever do anything about it since you lived in London half of the time, and he was always traveling around the US with no sort of set schedule.
“And…uh, where is it.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The one with the, uh, um. What the fuck was that guy’s name?”
Spencer looked at you with a furrowed brow. “Are you talking about Caesar?”
“YES. God. I always forget his name. Portia. She swallowed hot coals to kill herself right? But in the picture…” You pulled the photo out of the depths of the pile. “There’s a wound on the wife’s leg. Her cause of death was bleeding out, right? With the way she’s draped on the bed, and her husband is in the other room, it’s not the show. I think it’s the baroque piece of Portia by, uh, um…oh shit what was her name….”
Watching you work literally made Spencer’s heart want to bleed. He would actually propose to you on the spot if it wasn’t an extremely insensitive time to do so, and also you weren’t even dating. It was baffling to him that he had only known you for three days.
“Elisabetta Sirani!” You pulled out your phone and looked up the picture, and lo and behold, it matched the body.
“I think that it’s an art student, or someone heavily involved in art. Some of these are famous paintings, sure, but others? There’s a history there Spence. I only know these paintings because of my Ph.D. Sirani is not as common an artist as she should be.”
He sputtered at the nickname but quickly recovered. “I’ll call Hotch and let him know.”
You smiled at him and he smiled right back at you.
There was too long of a pause. It shouldn’t have happened at all really. But the sheriff knocked on the door, misinterpreting the stare for something more aggressive. “I don’t mean to break up whatever yelling session is about to happen, but the autopsy report came back…those were real wings.”
You looked back over at Spencer. “Tell him to get the team back. You guys need to give the profile.” _____________________________________________________________
“I just don’t understand where someone even gets that many beetle wings. It’s not like you can order them online and have them shipped to your house.”
“That tells you how premeditated this was then.”
“Woman, where have you been all our lives.”
You laughed and Derek smiled over at you.
“No, seriously Y/n. I never thought Art history could be so…”
“Violent?” You guessed, smirking slightly and shaking her head. “There’s a painting I think yo should look up Derek. Well a few of them—Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya is a favorite of mine, and then Judith Beheading Holofernes by Virmiglio has a shit ton of blood in it…or if you want some heartbreak, I am personally fond of Caleron’s Broken Vows, or anything portraying the Kiss of Franchesca and Paulo.”
“I just don’t get how you can store all of this in your head.” Derek pulled up to the college campus and flashed his badge at the campus security, who let him through the gate.
“Well, I don’t know how to take apart a gun, and then put it back together, let alone fire it. We all have our different skills.”
This caused Derek to laugh. “Touche.”
The two of you pulled up to the building with the offices of the Art History faculty and looked around the campus. “This is a massive campus, Derek. I’m pretty sure they have an MA and a Ph.D. in Art History beyond undergrad…”
“Believe it or not, this is not our first murderous college student case.”
You rolled your eyes. “Great. It’s good to know the youth of America are doing alright.”
That caused Derek to crack a smile. “Well. Let’s go find this professor and see what we can find out.”
The trek across campus brought you back to your college days. It was kind of nice to see that kids still hung out on the lawns and with one another, not just staring at their phones and laptops all of the time.
The both of you made your way up to the stairs of this slightly blocky building. It felt a bit like a museum with the amount of artifacts that they kept on the first and second floors, but as you walked through the fifth floor offices, your face started to fall.
“Derek what was the name of the professor we were supposed to talk to?” You whispered, slowly moving to a stop.
He turned and looked at you. “uh…Doctor Kolek, why?”
You pointed to the door you stopped in front of.
It was slightly ajar and looked as if the lock had been busted. Morgan quickly, pulled out his gun and shoved you behind him, calling out the woman’s name as you both held your breath.
When there was no response, Derek slowly pushed the door open. Her office was a wreck, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Papers were scattered, there were frames on the floor, and a dent in the wall as if someone had tried to throw something at someone. You called out the woman’s name again, only to gasp. Derek turned and faced the same way you were looking.
Doctor Kolek was face down on the floor. There was no blood around her, and the room didn’t smell like death, so that was a good sign, but she was clearly unconscious. Derek quickly rolled her over and checked for her vitals.
“She’s still breathing. Call a medic.”
You scrambled to pull out your phone, dialing 911.
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marie Dressler (Dinner at Eight, Tillie's Punctured Romance, Anna Christie)—SHE WAS SO SCRUNGLY. A vaudeville star who didn't hit it big in Hollywood until she was in her 60s. She had the most delightfully expressively scrunched facial expressions and often looked goofy and manic as an old lady while STILL stealing the show from her hot young costars.
Robert Walker (Strangers on a Train, The Clock, One Touch of Venus)—I think his performance as Bruno Anthony (Strangers on a Train) alone should qualify him as a contender. Riding carousels, strangling people at parties, his funky robe, popping some little kid's balloon, munching on popcorn, obsessing over his manicure, having his tied fixed by Farley Granger? Poetic cinema. Who else could pull off "murderous little weirdo" so well? Then in Song of Love he's like THE sweetest guy, being helpful in the kitchen, looking after a flock of children, mooning over Katharine Hepburn, playing the piano—he has the RANGE, darling—I LOVE how distressed his characters look in war movies, he's always just some little guy thrown among the horrors. He plays such lovesick puppy boys who trip over their own two feet. The "busted heel" scene in The Clock. The dream sequence in Her Highness and the Bellboy (regrettably can't find it). If F.R.I.E.N.D.S had come out in the 40s I am convinced he'd have played Chandler (arguably the scrungliest of the cast) but I haven't the faintest idea why my brain came up with this. He possessed the . . . special brand of rebel/misfit sensitivity and charm . . . His boyish good looks combined with an attractive vulnerability came across the screen with such beauty, power and naturalness. He went quite far in his short life; however, the many tortured souls he played so brilliantly closely mirrored the actor himself and the demons that haunted his own being wasted no time in taking him down a self-destructive path for which there was no return.
This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.
[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]
Marie Dressler:
youtube
youtube
playing a formerly glamorous stage actress, marie dressler EATS
youtube
Robert Walker:
youtube
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
mayprompts2024 #11, secret
Read parts 1-9 on AO3 here
++++++
The Perfect Place - Part Ten
They were riding in the backseat of a taxi to 221b Baker Street when Sherlock was struck by an unexpected and most unwelcome bout of nervousness.
Would John like the flat? Or would he decline like the previous nine potential flatmates? Sherlock gnawed his lower lip. Will I lose John as quickly as I have found him?
Sherlock remembered when one week ago, he had whined about this to Mike Stamford (Sherlock prefered to call it “complained”). As in being unable to find a suitable flatemate.
He told Mike that so far, every time a candidate had come to take a look at 221b, they had more or less quickly fled, using all kinds of excuses. Dumb ones like “sorry, gotta dash, I forgot to switch off the stove”, plausible ones like “bugger, it’s late, I need to be at work now” or ridiculous ones like the faked phone call that claimed “emergency at home, the neighbour’s run over my hamster with the lawn mower”. And so on and on.
Some of the disturbed looking candidates had kept their composure and simply went down the stairs whereas others had resembled headless chicken, about to run into a wall on their hurried way out.
Whichever way they ran, run they did. Why this always had happened every time remained a secret to Sherlock, one he could not solve. For all his observational and deductive skils, Sherlock stayed clueless about what scared them off.
(To everybody else it would be quite obvious.
The aspiring flatmates were greeted by a real human skull on the mantel and discovered a whole armoury of deadly weapons in the flat, reaching from a razor-sharp looking dagger over an antique Turkish scimitar to a literally bloody whaler’s harpoon. One peeked into the frigde and found himself face to foot with a human foot that was beginning to decompose. Another one was deeply troubled by the scrapbook with gory crime scene photos on the desk. A third one found the kitchen table strewn with the remnants of guinea pig embryos.
Sherlock found all of these circumstances perfectly normal, of course. Whereas these were deeply disturbing to the flatmates-to-be and triggered their instict of self-preservation. They presumed they would cohabitate with a murderous madman and left as long as they could.)
Anyway, after Sherlock’s complaining (whining) to Mike about his predicament, Mike had come up with a name (John Watson) claiming this man could be the pot to Sherlock’s kettle. Sherlock wanted to know more about this mystery man but Mike had simply smiled and said “Go and deduce him yourself, Sherlock.”
Sherlock’s interest had been piqued but it died a sudden death when he found out that the address Mike had given him was “Bernie’s Bed Shop”.
How could Mike assume that Sherlock would be interested in sharing his flat with a stupid salesman of boring beds? Sherlock had grumbled for three days about Mike’s proposal but then the next two other candidates had run from the flat and Sherlock had caved and had gone to the Bed Shop for a stake-out.
As soon as Sherlock had seen John limping to the shop and opening the front door with a trembling hand, he had deduced all about this fascinating doctor-soldier-salesman. Sherlock immediately fell in love.
In the present, Sherlock decided to be extra cautious and give John a heads-up about the state the flat was in.
“Erm, John, a warning concerning the flat, though. It’s a bit cluttered at the moment (a blatant understatement) with all my moving boxes and the things that have not yet found their final place (and most of them also never would). So please, don’t let this scare you away.”
(Let’s attest it to Sherlock’s current nervousness and distracted state of mind (palace) that he even considered such a warning might discomfort John when all it did was the exact opposite.)
“It won’t, I promise.” John said and became more curious by the minute. What possible dangers might lurk there in secret parts of the flat?
+++++
It's late and I`ve just finished this, so please don't mind possible any typos.
tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at
#mayprompts2024#calaisreno#number 11 secret#my sherlock fanfics#the perfect place#no beta we die like (wo)men
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
This chapter is an equation
You: ooooooookkkk Loulou not only are you late but now you see 'plus' in the chapter name so Fujimoto magically becomes a mathematician
Well, yes, and quite simply because the main theme of part 2 is identity, and what is an identity made up of ? A cluster of facets
So let's break it down...
Some people interpreted the fact that Denji noticed the curry buns being promoted as a sign that his identity was being devalued
I find it interesting to bring this up because I think we need to take the analysis further
Denji's identity isn't devalued, it's literally halved
Chainsaw Man is part of Denji's happiness, and he starts smiling again the moment his path crosses that of a demon.
But you can take the magnifying glass and see even further, you have to deconstruct each square because there is no dialogue, the message is captured in the image
Denji smiles when he sees this demon, caught up in his euphoria, he has the reflex of wanting to pull on his cable but stops in his tracks.
Note the cutting, Denji's finger is pointing at himself, and his puzzled look in the third frame signifies a question:
Am I the one who should intervene ?
Am I the man/demon of the situation ?
Am I still Chainsaw Man? Or should I continue to be ?
Let's skip ahead a few pages, this page still brings up Denji's dilemma: should he become Chainsaw Man or continue his normal life with Nayuta?
Denji can no longer be Chainsaw Man for fear of losing Nayuta, so almost to make up for the half he lacks, he ingests food in his effigy.
Far from a harmless act...
For one thing. As I've already said, Denji works with the concrete, and with his senses. Not only is food important to him, but it allows him to project himself and think. Whether to measure a proposition or even express a dream (eating steaks), but also in the question of his identity.
Not only did Pochita and Denji rub shoulders when they were both hungry, but their connection is above all sensory, even anatomical. The demon is Denji's heart, and literally ingesting Chainsaw Man allows a semblance of connection, and a re-appropriation of his identity for Denji.
But eating has another, deeper meaning that connects Nayuta and Denji. Once again, follow me into the more complicated part
I had already analyzed the fact that Nayuta and Denji were more than brother and sister, in the sense that Makima's murder follows the stages of childbirth in reverse.
The chainsaw, the instrument of maternity, is already busy slicing the joint of Makima's pubic bone, the place from which her power derives, the ultimate anatomical element of maternity.
Then he becomes one with Makima, devouring her, literally holding her in his womb - the stage of pregnancy.
These stages merely announced that Denji was pursuing a creative, even salvific act, enabling her to give life to a second version of herself.
In my opinion, everything in this chapter refers to Makima, from the kitchen in the background to the fact that they're having fun watching a film, and even the bath scene makes sense.
Makima had a very sensitive sense of smell; Denji had already mentioned in part 2 that he had been told he smelled like a dog.
We can see why, since he literally washes himself with his dogs, which Makima adores and which are predominant in this chapter.
Let's take the "plus" again, plus is to be understood in a first sense. When Denji had begun to claim his dreams before fighting Makima, he had said that he now wanted more than a normal life (normal life +), that he wanted to be Chainsaw Man.
He had claimed his full identity as + Chainsaw Man.
But if Nayuta predominates in this chapter, it's also to evoke two meanings
Firstly, the normal life Denji imagined had something extra that he hadn't considered when he awoke in front of Kishibe: having a little sister, i.e. + a little sister.
Nayuta's very existence is a +1, both in Denji's entourage and in the sense that she is the second reincarnation of the demon of domination.
But the "+" has much more to offer, so let's continue
When Nayuta says this, the interpretation must be negative, i.e. we must remember what she means, especially in this "be happy too".
For Nayuta, there's no doubt that this normal life is more than just normal, it's a happy life.
For her, being with Denji is the most important thing, promising to stay with him for life; for her, the fact that he has her (i.e. +1) is the literal equation of happiness.
Nayuta's answer isn't just in her words and gestures. Despite her sleep, she tries to make the two sign, and ends by reaching out her arms to invite him to embrace her. Because a hug can only be given by two people.
That's why I brought up Makima so much, because the demon of domination pursues the exact same line of reasoning.
Because a plus isn't just a plus, it can also be a cross (yes, it's twisted, but follow me).
We go straight back to chapters 93 to 95 with the confrontation between the demon of domination and Denji (i.e. before Makima gave birth to her second version).
When Makima thinks she's done with Denji, she starts talking directly to Pochita.
The demon of domination had always banked on the only entity she didn't think herself superior to (i.e. her equal, +1).
Her source of happiness was to find an entourage, even if it was only considered by ONE being.
I thought Nayuta's gesture was very similar to the way Makima had cuddled Pochita.
And I think her gesture is even more important than we think.
When Makima cuddled Pochita, she did so with just one hand, whereas when Nayuta contemplates her future life, her future, she places both hands on it as if she were embracing the entity she loved completely.
Including Pochita and Denji (+)
That's +1 compared to her previous life
AND IT'S NOT OVER
Obviously, the chapter isn't over, so we'll continue with this cursed plus
With the weapons discussion
I'm just going to repeat this dialogue. Not only do the weapons fully evoke the question of their identity, there are several of them, belonging to several overlapping species (+1).
But above all
Barem says this:
And this is where the biggest difference lies between what Barem and Chainsaw Man think
Barem refers directly to God, the creator (the cross is taken up again, Chainsaw Man is full of Christian references), creator also means to create, so +1
The one who creates, as Nayuta's presence literally shows, as well as the domination demon's theory of happiness, is the fact that Chainsaw Man is more capable of creating than destroying.
Which may seem strange at first glance, given that Pochita had wiped out most of the big demons (i.e. -1).
Except that, not only is Chainsaw Man made up of Pochita + Denji, i.e. two beings that add up, but if he is capable of eliminating beings, i.e. their death, he can also be understood as the one who dictates their birth, as Angel had pointed out.
+ is none other than the symbol of creation, but also of connection with others and happiness.
Barem is content to reason by subtraction; all species exist to subtract, whereas Chainsaw Man works by balance: although he can delete, he can also create.
All it takes is one + to turn this normal life upside down.
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
ask and you shall receive, @rottenseaweed my dear!!! julance drawing prompts for all my artist friends:
1. baby lance based on this image:
2. lance trying to do the cool wall lean and smirk to flirt with someone except he misses the wall and falls
3. lance and pidge furious and snarling at each other, fully ready to kill each other, so shiro separates them and starts giving them shit and they look at each other and start laughing bc they are asshole younger siblings who can’t take getting yelled at seriously
4. lance, leaning on hunk’s back as he rambles, and hunk completely focused on his work but reaching back to pat him on the head occasionally
5. coran fucking LAUNCHING lance into the pool
6. lance, visibly wearing something sparkly and pink that is Not His, terrorized expression on his face as he sprints away from allura who has murder written all over his face and is chasing him at top speeds
7. lance very carefully making charm bracelets for everyone
8. lance smiling softly as he pulls a blanket up over a couch-sleeping shiro
9. lance standing in front of like an easel or something with garbage memes on them, face very prim and instructional, holding a pointer and very clearly lecturing about meme culture to a wide-eyed, frantically note-taking allura
10. lance climbing kitchen cabinets to get something while hunk shouts at him in panic
11. lance absolutely kicking ass with a bow in this way from this video, if you’re into animation
12. lance standing with his hands on his hips, lecturing somebody about something, while hunk stands behind him with a photo of mrs mcclain whom he is imitating exactly without realising
13. lance braiding keith’s hair with like a million cutesy barrettes and charms and shit and just blabbing and keith is like fire truck red like truly glowing and lance is just completely overjoyed to be “fixing his mullet” and the rest of the team is losing their mind laughing at them
14. lance giving finger guns and winking at rebel matt who raises an eyebrow in amusement and pidge is mortified on his behalf
15. lance zooming around a moon, full armour and everything, picking up a thousand rocks and bringing them for shiro to hold bc they’re on a recon mission and shiro is watching this nerd boy in amusement (he is also geeking out about the rocks he’s just embarrassed about it)
16. veronica judo flipping lance upon their reunion on earth
17. lance, tongue out in concentration, knitting tiny little mouse sweaters
18. lance giving hunk a big ol’ cheek smooch bc he’s obnoxious (hunk pretends to be annoyed but is clearly holding back a smile)
18. coran and lance, faces both streaked with tears, hugging each other really tightly
19. keith really excitedly showing lance all the caves he explored when he was following blue’s trail and lance just staring at him, totally and completely whipped
20. pidge holding lance in a chokehold as he bites her. there are hearts around them bc they are both having literally so much fun even though they won’t admit it under pain of death
21. lance in daisy dukes and a cowboy hat, leaning against kaltenecker
22. lance, armour scuffed back from a rescue mission, teaching a bunch of scared alien children how to make friendship bracelets
23. lance and keith, on their honeymoon, faces half-obscured by the glare of the sun, grinning at the camera in front of the grand canyon (like this pic of my parents):
24. lance wearing a “i flexed so hard the sleeves ripped off” but the sleeves are very clearly still on. in fact the shirt is long-sleeved
25. preteen lance, beaming so wide his eyes squeeze shut, pink braces on his teeth
26. young lance, like maybe six or seven, missing four front teeth, giant satisfied smile on his face, at the beach (wearing shark swim trunks obviously) and holding a sea shell bigger than his entire head
27. tiny lance sitting on his brother’s shoulders, laughing, rest of his smiling family around him
28. a mirror of the food fight scene except it’s cake that the whole team (including the alteans!) are covered in, with a cake that says “happy birthday dorkbrain” absolutely destroyed with like clear imprints of people scooping up handfuls to throw
29. lance, in the backdrop of space, limp and unconscious, with both red and blue rushing towards him with protective snarls
30. lance hugging an alien scorpion the size of like a fucking horse, tears streaming down his face as if he’s looking at a particularly adorable kitten
31. the entire team except lance (he’s on a mission or smth) gathered in the common room, lounging on the couches. someone says “man i miss lance” and everyone is immediately like “oh my god me too i was waiting for someone to say it” “RIGHT ME TOO” “castle just isn’t the same without him” “seriously i’m so bored where is he when you need to bother him” etc etc
honestly i might do more of these dm me if u can come up with alliteration for a day of the week and i’ll post drawing prompts weekly
#julance prompts#vld#voltron#lance#lance mcclain#julance#klance#keith kogane#keith#team as family#hunk & lance#my writing#longpost#pidge & lance#garrison trio
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome...Home..?
Overworked! GN! Reader X Welcome Home Crew
Chapter 1
TW: none
The beginning of a grand new friendship, and a bunch of new adventures yet to come. It appears as though our main character has yet to see just what they're about to go through. Such a busy bee!
Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4
You slowly trudged up the steps of your porch, completely exhausted. Work has been awfully busy lately, with customers constantly coming in and out and being...."fun", as your boss put it. Not only that, but the workload your college classes have been putting on you lately has been overbearing! You've barely had any time to yourself. You haven't had time to indulge in your favorite hobbies, talk to any of your friends, or even look much at social media. It was a constant race to get things done and keep that money you so desperately needed rolling in.
You slid the key in the keyhole and turned. The door clicked open and a dark, dusty house welcomed you. An exasperated sigh sounded from you. Unfortunately, with your busy schedule, you also haven't had much time to clean your house.
You had been passed down your house from your great grandparents, who had both passed away a few years back. It was completely paid off, and even had some forest property to go along with it! Unfortunately, it was also pretty far in the forest, so you had to get up a bit extra early to make it anywhere on time. It also took up quite a bit of gas to get anywhere from there. You would move in with somebody to make it easier on yourself, but you didn't have many friends that lived in town anymore. None of the ones that did wanted or needed a roommate. Additionally, being a skeptic and cautious person led to not trusting many people on the internet. There was always a chance they would screw you over or possibly even murder you. You never knew.
Thud!
You dropped your heavy bag on the floor and your stomach, quick to catch the cue, growled. There was barely a thing in the fridge for ready-made food, and all of your dishes were dirty and disgusting. Even the thought of taking the time to wash them all made you feel more exhausted than you already were. The pantry didn't have much, either, but there was one thing that you could make in a few minutes without any extra work needed. Instant noodle cups.
"I really do play into the broke, tired college kid stereotype, huh?" You grumbled as you grabbed a cup from the pantry. It only took a few minutes, but you decided upon waiting for it to finish cooking to turn to the living room. The tv was dusty and rarely used, but you figured with the little free time you had you would watch something. "Anything to get my mind off of those Susans and Karens I have to face at work." The remote sat lonely in its spot on the tv stand as you walked over and picked it up. The screen was full of static for a moment, then to a news broadcast station. Humming, you flicked through the various stations, eventually settling on the most colorful one of them all.
A children's cartoon had just ended, and the colorful characters were saying their final goodbyes to the viewers.
"Maybe something simple will let me veg out for a bit. I don't need anything complicated right now." A small ding from the kitchen caught your attention. "Sounds like the noodles are done." One last mumble came from you as you turned your back to the tv and walked away. "My brain is already fried enough as is." When you got back and plopped down on your couch, a new cartoon had popped up. You figured it was a cartoon, anyway, from the extremely colorful title card. "Welcome Home" it read. "Must be a new show."
The colorful title card faded away and the camera panned down to a live set. The colorful scene caught your attention in full, and you felt yourself almost entranced. A house in the middle of a small neighborhood with eyes stared the viewer down with a supposedly friendly gaze. It waved with a window shutter before opening the door to the viewer as the camera wandered in. Inside, sitting at a canvas and easel was a small yellow puppet. He was humming away the show's friendly tune, slowly squeezing paint onto his palette. Finally, he noticed the viewer.
"Oh, hello, neighbor!" He waved to the viewer. His voice was gentle and slightly monotone. Strange, as he seems to be the main character. "Don't they usually have the main character of children's shows as more extraverted and full of energy and emotion?" "I was just about to start painting a lovely new painting for my friend Barnaby." He hummed and grabbed a brush, but hesitated upon moving to dip it in the paints. His gaze went back to the viewer, and he laughed. It was just as monotone as his usual voice, but what was even more off-putting was it being almost robotic in nature. "Oh, no. Thinking about it, I actually don't know what to paint." The handle tip of the brush was put against his cheek as the small puppet thought. "Say, neighbor," He looked back at the viewer. The small puppet's gaze distracted you from your food.
"That's weird...why does it feel...?" "As though he's looking directly at me?"
"Do you have any ideas? I'm sure there's some great ones in that head of yours!" His grin widened. Is that even possible for a puppet? You decided to remain quiet and stare back at him, completely entranced by the dark pools of his eyes. One minute went by. Then two. It wasn't until a third went by when you realized he hadn't gone back to painting. He was still staring, quiet and patient. "Neighbor?" The monotone voice caught you off gaurd, and you jumped in your seat. The puppet laughed and his gaze fell away from you for a moment. Just one. "Oh, no! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" You felt your blood run cold as he spoke once again, his voice even more gentle and ominous than before. Are you just that tired? Are you dreaming? You must be! "I can see you, you know." There it was again. That same, monotone laugh. His voice went back to normal. "That's okay if you don't want to answer me! It must be so strange for you. That I can see you. That I'm talking to you. But you don't have to worry! I won't hurt you!" The yellow puppet's eyes went wide. "Oh! I have an idea, now! You gave me the perfect idea, neighbor! I'll paint you!"
A breath left your lungs as you watched him turn his attention back to his canvas and start painting. One you hadn't realized you'd been holding. He hummed the show's tune once more as he went to painting on his canvas. It would be comforting, if it wasn't for the fact he was indeed painting your unlit living room.
"It's nice to have a new neighbor." He mumbled out just loud enough for you to hear. "Not many come to visit anymore." He glanced back at you for a moment before he went back to painting. "Oh, silly me, I forgot to introduce myself! I was too excited...I'm Wally. Wally Darling." The puppet, as you now knew as Wally, went silent. Not even a theme song played in the background. Just the silence of his livingroom...and his occasional humming.
Time rolled by. After a while, it almost felt like normal. Like you two had known each other for a while and were just on some sort of quiet camera call. Your tense shoulders eventually relaxed, and although you were still too cautious to speak to the puppet, your eyelids slowly, ever so slowly, shut. Overworking yourself had gotten to you, and no longer could your body continue to stay awake. A small, gentle, monotone voice called to you. So small, you barely noticed. So gentle, it sealed the final nail in you falling into the deep depths of dreams.
"Goodnight, neighbor."
#welcome home#welcome home puppet show#welcome home arg#welcome home crew#welcome home x reader#x reader#welcome home julie#welcome home sally#wally darling#welcome home frank#welcome home eddie#welcome home barnaby#welcome home fanfic#welcome home fandom#welcome home howdy#welcone home poppy#don't mind me#just adding in the tags#because I forgot them.#AGAIN.#and my interwebs decided to be slow the moment I hit post#anyway#enjoy!!#fanfiction#fanfic#welcome...home? fanfic
284 notes
·
View notes
Text
Playboy
Theodore nott x reader (3rd person)
Word count: idk (there's really not like enemies to lovers in this one maybe if I do a part 2?)
Warnings: underage drinking? Swearing not that much glass breaking
A/n: hello update on my life my mom is OKAY THANK THE LORD I change fandoms but I’ll still right Coriolanus fics if you send requests!
Summary: I was thinking about that one scene in Euphoria in the 1 ep in season 2 where Fez slashes the bottle into Nate’s head saying happy new years and was like this would make a nice fic (IM SORRY IF THIS IS PURE DOG SHIT)
-
Y/n L/n and Theodore Nott were both famously known in their house Gryffindor and Slytherin each had their reputation Y/n was nice and caring, Sweet a surprise she wasn't in Hufflepuff The thing that made her a Gryffindor was how bold she was and acting before thinking she had sent a lot of females to the hospital wing while Theodore was smart looks slick like a snake and in one word a Playboy doesn't matter what kind of girl she could be seeing someone he didn't give fuck.
Something they both have in common is that they have a feud Theodore has a new girl each week or even days before leaving them heartbroken and Y/n is there to heal it for them but Theo likes seeing how their hearts fall to his empty promises his empty words leaving like a ghost.
Theodore originally dated Y/ns closet friends and when he left her friend brokenhearted it sent her friend into a spiral of depression so bad that the poor girl transferred wizarding schools.
But currently, Y/n has found herself at a house party celebrating new years it had Hufflepuffs, Ravencloths, Slytherins, and Gryffindor.
Y/n had arrived earlier at the party with a few of her friends and she had on a black Minnie skirt paired with a black belt and black boots with a white off-the-shoulder top and access jewelry pretty makeup for the occasion and her (c/n) hair was in curls with the help of her friend.
Y/n took a sip of the beer she held with one hand she laid her head softly on the nearest wall her friends ditched her to go hang out with some Ravencloth boys.
The music was being blasted loudly not being to hear any small talk so she roamed the room seeing a few boys high passing a joint she was able to pinpoint one of the guys Mattheo riddle so that must mean his counter part is close by y/looked around once more spotting Theodore..
Her eyes studied him his dark brown curls his tall build and shoving his tongue down his next victim Y/n was taking her time trying to see who it was then to her horror she knew God she was going to murder him.
The girl was a fifth-year one year below them but that wasn't even the worst part she knew this girl she was a sweet Hufflepuff girl whom she tutored a bit and who she protected against a few Slytherin girls whom She had landed big hits just enough to send them a message and to the hospital wing in return the sweet girl made her baked good for a while month.
Y/n soon snapped back to reality once Theodore Watercolor's eyes met here it was honestly disgusting to seem to stare at her as he French kissed a fifth year her face scrunched up disgusted by his sick act as she finished her drink leaving to go to the kitchen for another bottle maybe something stronger to forget what she saw.
(TIME SKIP BC IDK 😣)
For a while now Y/n has been engaging in a conversation with Pansy she was the only member of Theodore's friend group she could stand and they were talking about Theodore be exact.
“It's truly disgusting I mean I've seen him bring back a lot of girls and it's been disgusting to see to make out with them in the common room but French kissing a fifth year?!”
Pansy says as she takes a big sip of her cup Y/n nods in response to her words “Does he have any fucking bloody lines!” she says scoffing as she drinks her beer.
Blind to her in the corner of the kitchen was the little sweet fifth-year “I'm going to go save the princess” Y/n remarks as Pansy grins letting out a giggle “Truly heroic!” she says clapping as Y/n makes her way into the kitchen looking down in the girl crying knees to her chest.
“Hey there my badger” y/n says as she slides down next to the girl handing her a tissue “You look beautiful tonight” The girl's eyes soften once they meet Y/ns “Hello Again..n” she lets out as she sniffs.
“What happened I saw you with him a couple of minutes ago and now I'm sitting on the kitchen tiles with you,” Y/n says trying to comfort the teary eye girl “As Theodore was kissing me he broke out of the kiss and said he spotted an old friend and I said to go say hi!” she says a small smile her cheeks stained with tears.
“After I while I was getting worried I didn't anyone here..e so I began to look for him,” she says as her voice cracks Y/n sighs “And you found him making out with this old friend right?”
Y/n places an arm I've the girl which makes her scoot closer to Y/ns embrace “You're not the first girl sadly that this has happened to” Y/n sighs as she can feel her blood boil she's going to give Theodore a night to remember for sure.
“I'll be right back just need to go to the bathroom okay?” Y/n says as she brings her beer with gets up as the fifth-year nods.
Y/n makes her way around the party and soon finds Theo he can feel the presence of Y/n behind him and slowly breaks away from his hot make-out session “Bambina leave me be for a few minutes” he says to his hookup.
“But the balls going to drop soon and I wanted you to be my first kiss off the-” she's immediately cut off “Ore” says in a stern matter with a cold state she soon backs up scoffing walking away.
“Sorry about that,” Theodore says as he wipes his mouth with a nearby napkin, and a smirk is printed on his good-looking face.
Y/n arms are crossed over my chest as she smiles stabbing her nails into her arm to try and control her anger “The balls gon a drop soon!” someone shouts his watercolor eye locked into her (e/c) eyes .
“So what did you need to talk about? You finally fell in love with me?” Theodore says cockyness in his tone “God no” Y/n says scoffing as a smile is on her face.
“Last time we were together you said you wanted to kill me,” He says smirking and arching his eyebrow staring at me waiting for a reaction “4, 3, 2,1” everyone shouts as they kiss, drink as Y/n lifts her beer “Yea well, New year playboy” she says as she smashes the glass into his he as knocking him out.
“OMG Y/n JUST KNOCKED OUT THEODORE! Everyone is stunned by the sound and the news.
PART 2??? Idk
#reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott angst#theodore nott x y/n#fanfic#theodore nott#theodore nott fluff#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter
129 notes
·
View notes