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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 3 years ago

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perfect now - a close reading

only pure and true love for this one. it’s soft and sweet because the one he wrote it for is and needs cheesy uncool romcom soundtrack-worthy affirmations and it’s the most wonderful thing oh my the flurries

some album booklet art for your viewing pleasure

((just a warning for below: while the lyric analysis was kept fairly neutral and close to the words and their meaning, more and more parallels did ensure me larrying out by the time the analysis kicked off so if you’re not into that, you can skip this one!))

⟼ check out @bluewinnerangel ‘s magnificent post with all the parallels to 1d/h&l bc it’s exhaustive and was a source for mine <3 thank you again for your service <3 bc this song really is a fanpiece of every song that has been important to them throughout their career so far, whether they wrote it or not, and it’s honestly kinda impressive

SUMMARY

you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway

lyric breakdown ft. the many parallels, incl. little things, through the dark and wmyb

what this says about louis, his partner and the relationship he is in

never gonna dance again frenzy

identity

louis is a marvellous majestic sonofabitch basically <3

walls, track 10

～ little things “you still have to squeeze into your jeans, but you’re perfect to me”

You don’t feel pretty and it’s hard to miss

later lyric: “like a neon sign” - i see through you trying to hide away your insecurities

I wish that you could see my point of view As someone staring back at you

“you” is also staring at him, but perhaps is too insecure to realise how mutual the adoration is

i wish i could get you out of your own negative spiral and give you a look at yourself from my perspective

～ wmyb “everyone else in the room can see it, everyone else but you”

～ wmyb “right now i’m looking at you and i can’t believe you don’t know you’re beautiful”

～ little things “you never love yourself half as much as I love you, and you’ll never treat yourself right darling but I want you to. If I let you know, I’m here for you, maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you”

On Friday night when we’re all out I turn to you and you’re looking down And you don’t wanna dance I know you love to dance You never stop given half the chance

heavy echoes of kmm again, but the opposite: the “nightmare on the dance floor” doesn’t want to dance

when “you” is confident rlly not being subtle with who i think that is, they love to dance <-> tpwk “feeling good in my skin, i just keep on dancing”

“i know you love to dance” = i know what you love bc i love you

“given half the chance”

～ tpwk “giving/given second chances”

given a chance tattoo, making another appearance (see below for more tattoo meltdowns)

Just keep your head up, love, keep your head up

term of endearment <3

～ dlibyh

this album is full of encouragement to keep going and as much as it gives me life it ruins me

Don’t hide away, don’t ever change

“be happy, proud”

～ “just hold on”

“pick someone who’s supportive”

Keep your head up, love, keep your head up Don’t look away, don’t look away

don’t look away from me

～ through the dark “and I can see your head is held in shame”

Cause everybody’s looking at you now, my, oh my

they have the stage to themselves / new career paths they’re doing on their own

could also mean ppl they’re going out with are looking at them, which “you” interprets as sth negative, which makes them self-conscious, while they’re actually admiring them bc they steal the scene

～ wmyb “you’re turning heads when you walk through the door”

I guess some queens don’t need a crown And I know why Even when your tears are falling down Still, somehow, you’re perfect now

“you” is royalty to louis, to put it simply

they don’t need something on their head to make it known to everyone else - they’re a queen and everyone knows it

gendered: female - also used in drag contexts - the only time L has used any gendered word to identify his partner on the entire album (more on this below)

～ steal my girl "she's been my queen since we were sixteen" can't believe i forgot this one thank you @mortalenemiestolovers for reminding me!!!

～ falling

～ through the dark “you tell me that your tears are here to stay”

You never do, but if you asked me to I’ll tell the truth lying next to you

“you” never asks for affirmations directly, but by saying shit like their pants are too tight make it clear enough to L that they do need to hear once in a while that it’s not true

Cause you’re the only one when it’s said and done You make me feel like being someone

Good to you even at your worst

～ always you

i love you so much you are a force of life to me, and even when you hate me i want more

～ drag me down “If I didn’t have you there would be nothing left, the shell of a man who could never be his best. If I didn’t have you, I’d never see the sun. You taught me how to be someone” (sung by louis first, harry second)

～ through the dark “even if you scream and shout, it’ll come back to you and I’ll be here for you

You steal the scene and it’s unrehearsed

reference to working on a stage - their natural presence wins everyone over - that charisma is never manufactured

Don’t you wanna dance? Just a little dance I’ll never stop given half the chance

L keeps encouraging them, will also not pass by any chance to dance with them

Every insecurity, like a neon sign, as bright as day If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

“it’s hard to miss”

L sees through them trying to hide their insecurities, pretend to be strong

～ through the dark “but I know you were only hiding”

SYNTHESIS

Perfect Now is not a fan favorite and I am so not here for that discourse, so please do not pester me with negativity about this chocolate drop of a song.

As others have pointed out, the parallels with other songs written by Louis, Harry or for One Direction are extremely present. Especially Little Things is echoed loudly, but there’s so much more to be read, as you’ve seen. These are songs that are clearly near and dear to Louis, bc he wrote them or bc performing them was special, like with Little Things and What Makes You Beautiful. A lot of the same emotions come back in Louis’s writing, so much so that you can’t help but see the larger story behind it all. Throughout Walls you can hear him singing about not giving up and holding your head high despite hardships, and if you look back at his earlier writing, it’s always been there. Through the Dark is an early and striking example of this style of Louis song: you’re sad and i love you so much i will do anything to make that undone but while you’re sad know that i sill very much love you and you’re also strong enough to conquer all of this on your own but i’ll be by your side anyway

basically through the dark’s chorus:

Oh, I will carry you over Fire and water for your love And I will hold you closer Hope your heart is strong enough When the night is coming down on you We will find a way Through the dark

It is very clear that Louis is faced with a partner - I can freely say it’s Harry now right? are the antis gone by now? i think so - that struggles with his body, with his identity, with how he wants to present himself vs how opinions on that might push him down and dampen his spirit. Louis, always the supportive boyfriend, then tries his best to make him see the light, while keeping that space for his sadness, his struggles, or their joint struggles. Accept the sadness but don’t lose your heart to it.

I’ve linked @bluewinnerangel ‘s post at the start of this post, but I need to stress how good it is once more as I also shamelessly insert a screenshot from it here bc it makes me feel a lot and summarizes perfectly just how deeply Perfect Now is woven into the history of their lives, relationship and especially “you”s/Harry’s personal struggle with their identity/body/confidence...

Because yes, i absolutely think these tattoos are being echoed in the song. “Never gonna dance again” as a lyric and then as a tattoo on Harry’s legs like shackles around his ankles represents the sensation of shame, of being stuck, bc of your desires, bc of your sexuality. Obviously we can never know why Harry got the tattoo, as in what experience pushed him to choose those lyrics or what exactly he recognizes in himself, but it’s safe to say it’s about the struggles of being queer and navigating relationships with that identity and with others.

Most importantly, the sense of shamelessly dancing, dancing like no one’s watching, dancing together with your lover, as a celebration of self, life, love, is the key here. Harry got that tattoo ages ago, at a time when he undoubtedly felt way more stuck. When he couldn’t dance freely the way he wanted to and with whom he wanted to. Perfect Now is a reminder to him, an encouragement to still dance if he wants to, no matter what people say or think. Significantly, then, Harry’s own Treat People With Kindness heavily features that same sentiment, but in an extremely positive light: i have found a place (in life and in myself) where i feel like i have given and was given second chances and now i dance bc i finally feel good in my skin.

Louis has obviously been there from the start, or at least from when or before Harry properly started experimenting with/questioning how he likes to present and how he identifies as. Before he ever dared to consider pulling on a pair of women’s skinny jeans, never mind a ball gown. Louis has seen him limit himself as well as being limited by others ofc and has always seemed to have been there, with a secure hand on Harry’s back, to encourage him. Even at a time when boys wearing nail polish or skirts was unthinkable. Just remember how much encouragement Harry needed when growing out his hair; Louis literally joined him. yes this might make me cry okay i need to stop bc i’m going off track and this is just becoming a larry breakdown while i was trying to hype up this beautiful song.

What I’m trying to say is: Louis has always seen all of Harry. He’s always had his back, no matter what. He’s loved every part of him. And now, on a completely gender neutral album, in the sweetest, softest song off of the entire thing, Louis puts in the word “queen”, and that is so very deliberate it makes me want to scream. It’s Louis confirming his love again and again while affirming the multitudes contained by Harry, including everything involving his gender journey. brb crying

It’s a raw Louis, an honest, sweet, kind, loving partner, and both of them are fucking lucky to have each other, and I also wish that all of us end up in a caring and wholesome relationship like that. I truly do.

#wow i thought this one was gonna be easier #i always do why do i think that???#every time i look closer into l's lyrics i see more depth #this is all just a perfect mushy mess so it's on brand for me #perfect now analysis #lyric analysis #my posts #parallels

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muffinbeliever · 3 years ago

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When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

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Highway 63 (Almost-there 2K writing challenge)

On a dusty stretch of highway that connects two cities, a few aged establishments have made themselves part of the land. They say that some days you wouldn’t find anything but boarded-up buildings and old “Do Not Trespass” signs but there will be nights where people find themselves mingling with the patrons. You have to visit on a warm summer night, though. When the moon is shining and the air is light.

There, you would find a Bar that attracts all kinds of people—city folks, locals, people who wanted to disappear amongst the crowd of faces. The building reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap liquor and yet they see groups of people coming in and out, trying to grab a fix of their favorite sin.

Weary travelers often find themselves checking into the Motel, just a few hundred steps away from the infamous Bar. Some rooms are occupied, some things go bump in the night. It makes a decent stopover rather than sleeping in your car.

Patrons love to rave about the Diner near the Motel. The food tastes like home! they say. The booths are aged and yellow, the buzzing overhead lights are dusty and yet it feels familiar—even if it was your first time here.

Venturing further down the road, you’ll find a dilapidated barn. Nature is on its way reclaiming rotten wood posts and rickety doors. Rumors of ghost and unfriendly souls keeps the walls intact; the rusted tractor sits idle on the side.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find yourself driving down the stretch—catching glimpse of faces you’d never see again. The Motel would’ve had its no vacancy sign up, the Bar would be full of people dancing, the beats spilling onto the street. The Diner would’ve been serving pancakes, chicken, and waffles. Pass by the Barn, maybe you’ll see the vines crawling and waving onto the posts.

If you’re luckier, a postcard would be stuck on your windshield, “Welcome to Highway 63!” it would say. Would you take it as an invitation?

—

Welcome to Bitchassbucky’s almost-there 2K writing challenge! With my blog turning 3 years old this June, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been there since day one. I made lots of friends throughout the years, I even found a bunch of people that I would call my family too.

I’ve decided to take a little break from writing, just until I can find my traction again. Don’t worry, I will be coming back! Hopefully, a better writer.

Anyway, I just really want to thank you for the laughs, for the ugly cries, for the rage, for the keysmashes, and everything in between. You’re always in my heart.

Enough sentiments, let’s get down to business.

Guidelines:

🟪 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. You are responsible for your own media consumption. We don’t exist to babysit you.

🟪 Send me an ask (with your @ if you’re on anon) with the prompt you’d like to take.

🟪 All stories should take place in the Bar, the Motel, the Diner, the Barn, or along the road. Welcome to Highway 63.

🟪 No minimum word count! If your entry goes beyond 500 words, please use the read more tool. All forms of content is welcome: moodboards, playlists, drabbles, one-shots, series, headcanons, etc. are counted as a valid entry.

🟪 To send an entry, mention me @bitchassbucky and @bitchassbucky-afterdark and use the Welcome to Highway 63 tag.

🟪 Marvel/MCU characters are very much preferred. Let me know if you want to write for another character.

🟪 Maximum of two people can take a prompt.

🟪 Warnings, warnings, warnings. Tag your fics appropriately. Dark (noncon, dubcon, etc.) fics are very much welcomed, just tag it. No cross-tagging too.

🟪 NO DEADLINE, we all hate deadlines. KEEP IT COMIN’, FOLKS.

🟪 Hard no-no’s: bathroom play, blood-incest, underage pairings.

🟪 No RPFs (Real Person Fics). Reader inserts or character/character only. OCs are welcomed!

🟪 Let’s keep all entries inclusive, please!

🟪 DO NOT REPOST WORKS OF OTHER PEOPLE.

Prompts under the cut!

Song prompts

You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring

Bad To The Bone by George Thorogood

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

Girls on Film by Duran Duran ( @belladonnabarnes )

Highway to Hell by AC/DC

Precious Love by James Morrison

Sugar for the Pill by Slowdive

Everybody Talks by Neon Trees ( @blackberrybucky for Bucky)

The Boy from NYC by The Ad Libs

Knock On Wood by Amii Stewart

How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) by Marvin Gaye ( @buckyblues for Bucky)

MONTERO (Call Me By My Name) by Lil Nas X

Streets by Doja Cat (@luxeavenger)

Tokyo Love Hotel by Rina Sawayama

Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit

Nobody by Mitski

Take Me To Church by MILCK

Curious by Hayley Kiyoko

Line prompts

"Are you sure we're supposed to be here?" // "Are we even allowed in here?" ( @vibraniumqueen for Bucky)

"The GPS fucked up, didn't it?" ( @phant0m-queen for Bucky) ( @uncensored-steve-the-platypus for Steve)

"Drive slower!"

"Not bad [name], not bad."

"Can you shut the fuck up for just one second?!" ( @whoth3hellisbucky for Bucky)

"What did you do?"

"You don't deserve to know me like this."

"Oh, fuck."

"Do you want any advice?" / "If it's from you, then no."

"If you're reading this, I'm dead." ( @buckycuddlebuddy for Bucky)

"Close your eyes, I wanna surprise you." ( @lokiscollar for Bucky) (@drysdale-barnes for Bucky)

"What are you doing here?" / "What are YOU doing HERE?"

"Are you following me?"

"I'm gonna need a drink." (@fuckandfluff for Bucky)

"Keep walking. Just keep walking."

"Hey, I think I saw something back there."

"Come with me!"

"Hand me the car jack."

"We're in Bumfuck, Middle of Nowhere, what do you think?!"

Trope and AU prompts

Biker AU (very on-the-nose, eh?) ( @mxsamwilson for Bucky) ( @thefallenbibliophilequote for a series)

Rom-com AU

College AU ( @babyboibucky for College!Bucky)

Vacation/road trip AU

Band AU ( @hey-its-grey )

Mob/Gang/Criminals AU ( @buckycuddlebuddy for Bucky) ( @xbuchananbarnes for Sam)

Spies AU

Stalker AU

Dystopian AU

Fuck buddies/friends-with-benefits trope ( @whoth3hellisbucky for Bucky)

Found family trope

Mutual pining trope

Idiot x Dumbass trope ( @vibraniumqueen for Bucky)

Amnesia trope

Unreciprocated feelings trope ( @buckyblues for Bucky)

Lovers-to-friends trope

Friends-to-lovers trope

Enjoy yourself and I’ll see you around.

#bitchassbucky's almost there 2k writing challenge #welcome to highway 63 #writing challenge #writing prompts

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eyndr-stories · 2 years ago

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Chester and the Jesters (FNAF SB fanfic) C1 - Transgressor

In Summary:

The new tech sure does seem a little strange. Chester (at least, that's what their name tag says) doesn't seem as concerned as they should be about the high turnover rate here at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, or the numerous rumors about what happens to people who take the night shift. And to make matters worse, there seems to be some kind of criminal on the loose! The cops say they think the criminal is hiding out in the woods somewhere near the pizza-plex. Stress is high at the plex these days, but Chester is stoic as ever. Say, come to think of it, no one can seem to remember where Chester's application went or who they interviewed with. Their employee file is misplaced or missing just like everything else in this place. But the new tech does a good job completing their tasks, and has their own badge and everything, so of course they must belong here. It's not like someone would sneak into the plex and go this far out of their way to impersonate a low level technician. Right??

Things To Know (always read responsibly!):

Biggest warnings are for blood, death, knives, murder, the police, violence, also the OC is at one point hit by lightning. All fun stuff

About 70,000 words in total, 9 chapters, so roughly like. 7,500 words per chapter

This is an OC story, not a reader insert or a self insert! But if you want to imagine otherwise be my guest lol

Angst, fluff

OC x Sun & Moon, there's romance but zero spice

Occasional swearing

Heavy focus on Sun and Moon but most of the rest of the gang is there too :)

Afton doesn't exist, sorry peepaw, Vanessa is here but she's very chill. She's a kickass gamer girl lmao

Moon does an attempted murder but its fine. He's just a lil guy ok

OC uses they/them and also sign language most of the time

Impersonation, lying. There's also manipulation. Yall I wasn't kidding about the angst

There's also a lot of focus on how they're all robots, very cool robots with feelings lol

That's all I can think of, as always please lmk if I should add anything!

Ao3 Link: Right here!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

C1 - Transgressor

Desperation can, at times, lead you to do some funny things. Just some real silly little choices. Some 'oopsies', if you will.

Sirens wailed in the distance, audible despite the roar of wind and rain, despite the pounding of footfalls through the mud, despite the heavy crash of thunder, not a moment's hesitation before the lightning followed. There was a light ahead, piercing through sheets of rain, through tree branches and leaves.

Bursting through the trees, the transgressor breathlessly considered their options. There weren't many to consider. They braced their hands on their knees, taking in greedy gulps of air, wincing as cold air stung their lungs and sent harsh shivers down their spine.

The sirens were getting louder.

Having crossed through the woods, the transgressor was back out on the other side of town. That light they'd blindly followed through the trees was coming from the neon sign of some kind of mall, just down the hill ahead of them. The transgressor was close to the side of the building here, close enough that they could see onto the roof. Around the building's edge was a wide parking lot, and the street beyond. Pine and spruce trees bent and swayed behind them, leering, gibing, judging.

They're just trees. Get a hold of yourself.

They had to focus. They couldn't keep running forever. The transgressor scanned the parking lot of this mall. They'd stolen a car once, they could do it again.

The lot was empty, naturally. The sirens were maybe a few streets away at best now, getting closer by the second. The goosebumps on the transgressor's arms were raising so violently that their skin was tingling. There was a metallic sort of taste in their mouth, like bad pennies. The transgressor stared at their hands, still braced on their knees. There was still blood caked beneath their fingernails, staining their skin despite the rain. The transgressor turned their face instead to the sky, their glasses not doing much to shield them against the torrential downpour. What they really needed now was some kind of miracle.

As if it had only been waiting for the audacity of the thought, a deafening crack of lightning decided right then that it would be best to smite the transgressor where they stood.

The world shook violently. For a long moment, the transgressor saw nothing at all. They couldn't hear anything, could barely even feel the chill. Then, all at once, everything slammed back into place around them.

The transgressor was on the ground, now covered in mud. There was a deafening ringing in their ears, the rain now a distant hush. With shaking arms, the transgressor pushed themself up into a sitting position, despite the numbness in their arms. Their head was throbbing.

…This fallen tree was not here before.

The transgressor stared at the tree not three feet to their left. The base of it was jagged and splintered, and there were chunks of wood scattered around. The tree had fallen towards the building, crashing onto the roof of the mall.

Three things became apparent. One, the transgressor had just been indirectly struck by lightning. However, they were still alive, and the tree had graciously missed crushing them in its fall by a narrow margin. Two, it appeared that the transgressor now had a working bridge onto the roof of this mall. Three, they could see the light of the sirens glowing at the end of the street.

The transgressor didn't think twice. They pushed themself to their feet and climbed across the fallen tree and onto the mall's rooftop. The tree groaned and creaked beneath them, threatening to collapse under their weight.

Their legs were shaking so badly they could hardly walk. They pushed on, heading for the access door. After the trials of the night, picking the lock was almost comically easy.

The transgressor collapsed at the top of the stairwell, back against the door, shut tight against the storm. Without the noise of the wind and the rain, that ringing seemed even louder. The transgressor squeezed their eyes shut and tried to breathe.

By the time they'd caught their breath, the ringing in the transgressor's ears had gone down a little. They knew they couldn't stay here, though they desperately wanted nothing more than to curl up right here on the ground and sleep this horrible night off.

With a groan, the transgressor pulled themself up onto their feet. The stairwell was dark, nearly pitch black if not for the light coming from below, seeping through mesh metal platforms and around uncomfortably thin metal stairs. They gripped the railing tightly and made their way down the steps, trying not to mind how they creaked and groaned as if about to buckle beneath the transgressor's weight.

Bright blue light came through a cracked open doorway. The transgressor pulled the door open just wide enough to stick their head through.

The light came from a vending machine, the side of it painted with an assortment of colorful animalistic characters. Beyond the machine, the transgressor could see a wide hallway, lined with benches and potted plants. The pattern on the tile floor reminded the transgressor briefly of the carpet in the roller skating rink they used to go to as a kid, all colorful shapes and silly lines and bright colors.

Other than that damn persistent ringing, everything was quiet. The colors were loud enough, between the posters and glowing neon signs covering the walls, The transgressor's head was swimming. Still, it wasn't like they could afford to be picky. A building as big as this meant options. Places to hide, if the cops decided to search the building.

The transgressor stepped out into the hall, leaving the door cracked just as they'd found it. They started down the hall, following a sign promising a food court was somewhere ahead.

They'd just passed an abandoned red stroller when the transgressor heard a noise behind them. Their heart jumped and they whirled around, lifting their fists.

The transgressor stared down some sort of robot. The robot had rolled itself up out of nowhere on a set of wheels, carrying a mop with it. It had simple white casing and a head shaped like an egg, featureless save for two perfectly circular black disks, clearly meant to be eyes. The robot wore a faded blue cap atop its head. It stared at the transgressor for an uncomfortably long moment.

The robot turned its egg head towards the ground and began to mop up the mud that the transgressor had trailed in.

The transgressor breathed, setting a hand over their heart. This was just some kind of cleaning bot, doing its job. The transgressor cursed their jumpy nerves and relaxed. They turned and carried on, feeling ridiculous enough to ignore the feeling of the robot staring after them.

It quickly became clear as the transgressor explored the building that this place was enormous. It hadn't seemed this expansive from the outside. There were several floors, each one a winding maze of attractions and shops and hallways. There were lots of 'STAFF ONLY' doors, likely leading to areas that would be ideal for stowing away for the night, but every one of these doors was locked via higher tech security panel. These were no good, the transgressor couldn't pick a lock that wasn't there, and they didn't know the first thing about hacking.

Occasionally, the transgressor would come across more robots rolling around the halls. There were more cleaning robots, though none of them wore hats like the first one. There were little wet floor sign robots, their rectangular heads topped with big round ears. Those were actually pretty cute looking. The only robots the transgressor had to worry about were the security bots, who wielded flashlights and rolled around in clearly pre-defined paths, occasionally stopping to turn a full circle before resuming their routes. These bots had 'SECURITY' printed clearly across their fronts and backs. They looked to be the same sort of model as the cleaning robots, egg heads and all. So long as the transgressor was careful, they could avoid these bots easily enough.

The transgressor kept seeing those animal characters depicted everywhere, on posters and cutouts and signs, decorating the merchandise in gift shops, there were even statues of them. They didn't care much about these smiling mascots, though. The transgressor folded their arms tight over their chest in an effort to stave off the shivers racking their body. They were soaked to the bone and their clothes were torn and dirty and, in places, stained with blood.

Their luck finally seemed to be turning, at least. A lost and found, the simple door lock just as easy to pick as the one on the roof had been. There, the transgressor found a lazy pile of clothes by a shelf full of odds and ends. A watch, a child's left shoe, a couple of plastic cards. One card appeared to be for storing points at the arcade. The other was some kind of VIP backstage pass. The transgressor took the backstage pass and picked through the pile of clothes, scrounging up a pair of black pants and a button up Hawaiian shirt, the only things in the pile anywhere close to their size. The transgressor wasn't feeling particularly picky. They quickly got changed, using another shirt to dry off and wipe their glasses clean of rain spots and dirt.

The transgressor tossed their old torn and stained clothes in the garbage on their way back to the food court. The only stage they could remember seeing was at the back end of the food court. They eyed their backstage pass under the sharp neon lighting. A smiling depiction of a bear character wearing a top hat and a bowtie gave the transgressor a thumbs up behind the emboldened 'VIP' letters. On the backside of the pass was a barcode and some kind of legal disclaimer, the print far too fine for the transgressor to make out.

When the transgressor looked up, they didn't pay much mind to the bear character in front of them, its shape silhouetted in neon lighting. After all, this guy's likeliness was plastered everywhere, it wasn't uncommon to see statues of the different characters. But then the bear moved.

The transgressor was rooted to the spot for just a moment. The bear was turning around to face them, neon shining off of metal plating as the bear moved. In a moment of panic, the transgressor leapt to the side, diving behind one of those massive ceramic pots full of plants.

"Hello?"

The transgressor sat as still as they could and held their breath, mind racing. They glanced down at the card still gripped in their hand. There was no doubt, that same bear character depicted on the card was standing in the hall. Not only that, but the character had definitely just spoken. This was it, then. The transgressor had finally lost their marbles.

"Montgomery, are you attempting to pull a fast one on me again??"

There were heavy footfalls, moving past the transgressor's pot. The transgressor risked a peek.

The bear was standing a few paces away, back to the transgressor once more. From here the transgressor could see metal plating, and the outlines of panels. A robot.

Things clicked into place for the transgressor. This bear character was some kind of robot mascot, an animatronic. The transgressor recalled seeing several other characters depicted in posters and such, which meant there were probably more of them.

"Hmm." The bear looked around for a moment, then seemed to decide the coast was clear and moved on, heavy footsteps fading into the distance.

The transgressor breathed a sigh of relief. They'd have to be more careful, if there were mascots roaming around as well. They seemed a little more perceptive than the security bots.

The extra caution paid off. The transgressor encountered another mascot before making it to the stage in the food court.

This one looked like the bird character. She was painted a bright pink, so she wasn't difficult to spot as the transgressor peered around the corner. They waited patiently for her to amble off down a side hall before hurrying on their way.

Finally, the transgressor made it to the stage. They found the door they were looking for without issue, 'BACKSTAGE' printed clearly on its front and a card reader panel set into the wall right beside it. The panel's screen flashed green when the transgressor tapped their card to it, and the door popped open. They slipped inside and pulled the door shut behind them.

There wasn't much of interest backstage, just a lot of set props, flood lights, sound equipment, and rolling platforms. There was, however, a door labeled 'STAFF ONLY' that did not have a security panel set beside it.

The staff only door let out onto the top of a stairwell, metal stairs transitioning to cement halfway down. The chill coming up from the stairwell was biting, and the transgressor was grateful they'd gotten out of their wet clothes. They made their way down the steps.

These halls were clearly not open to the public, which is exactly what the transgressor wanted. The halls were musty and dim, lit only by narrow little strips of harsh florescent light along the bottoms of the walls. The posters here were meant for workers, detailing safety hazards and posting warnings.

The transgressor passed an open door labeled 'SECURITY ROOM'. Peeking inside, they could see a long desk with several monitors, all turned off. The room was empty save for a rolling chair and some cardboard boxes in the corner. It seemed that if there was a security guard, they weren't on duty. A stroke of good luck for the transgressor.

The door to parts and service wasn't locked. This room was massive, and better lit than the halls. Pale service lights cast a clinical glow over rows of shelves and lockers, lines of computer servers, and at the center of the room, some sort of crazy glass chamber housing what the transgressor guessed was a torture machine inside. They got a closer look at the thing, eventually puzzling out that it was some sort of advanced repair machine. The table bolted to the floor inside the chamber was outfitted with massive metal bands. Too big to strap a person down, but… that robot mascot had been pretty big.

This place must be where the robots got serviced when they broke down. The transgressor checked through some of the shelves, finding them to be poorly organized. There were open bins full of parts that didn’t seem to go together, bundles of wires jammed in with stacks of metal rods, smaller computer chips scattered on the same shelf as a collection of curved metal panels.

The transgressor checked the lockers next. Most of the ones that popped open freely were empty, except for two. The first just held a hat and a sweater. The second appeared empty at first, but something shiny caught the transgressor's eye. Stuck between the back of the locker and the loose metal shelf was a name badge. Across the top of the badge was the word 'TECHNICIAN' and inside the name box was the name 'Chester'. On the back of the badge, below the safety pin, was a barcode not unlike the one on the back of the backstage pass.

The transgressor pocketed the badge, hoping to try it on the staff doors to see if the barcode would work on the panels. They cast one more look around the room before carrying on.

They found a bathroom, sensor lights clicking on as they stepped inside. The transgressor went immediately to the sink and started washing their hands. They scrubbed and scrubbed until the water was no longer tinged with red and ran clear. The transgressor's hands shook as they grabbed a paper towel. They risked a glance in the mirror.

The transgressor was not surprised to see how haggard they looked. Between the mud on their face and in their short black hair, the heavy bags under their eyes, and all the cuts and nicks they'd acquired charging through bushes and branches, the transgressor was looking a little worse for wear, to put it kindly. They turned the water back on and did their best to clean themself up.

Eventually, after a few more minutes of exploring, the transgressor found exactly what they were looking for. A small closet with a doorknob dusty enough to promise infrequent visits. Inside, there were shelves of what looked like simple uniforms, shirts and aprons and hats. The transgressor stepped in and shut the door behind them. They sat down, fitting neatly between the shelves and the door, their back to the wall. Here they could safely recuperate and wait for the storm to pass without (too much) fear of being found. Just for a few hours, just until they could be sure the cops would have moved on, either looking for them elsewhere or, with any luck, given up on looking for them at all.

They did try to think of a plan. They'd gotten themself into a real pickle, and they were out of ideas, out of options, out of luck. The transgressor leaned their heavy head back against the wall and breathed a long sigh. They closed their eyes and tried to think. There had to be some way out of this, if they could just think…

The transgressor jolted awake, startled from a dream by the sound of laughter. There was a moment of bleary eyed confusion before the transgressor's brain caught up with them, and they realized they'd passed out.

Idiot!

Judging by the bright light coming from the crack along the bottom of the door, the lights were on in the hall outside. And judging by that laugh, and what they could now make out as muffled distant voices, there were people out there in the halls.

The transgressor had slept through the night. They got to their feet, gripping the shelf beside them as they did, stiff muscles protesting. The mall was open, which meant getting back out of here was going to be a huge pain in the ass. Unless…

The transgressor's gaze fell on the shelf they were gripping. They reached into their pocket, feeling the name badge was still there. These shelves were full of employee uniforms…

Well, they certainly couldn't hide in this closet all day. So, disguise it was. The transgressor pulled on a uniform and clipped their stolen name badge to it. They hid their hair in a hat and pulled the brim down low. Then they listened at the door for a long moment, making sure no one was in the hall outside to see them come out.

The transgressor squinted in the bright light of the hall, the fluorescents along the ceiling now blazing. The transgressor crossed their fingers and hoped not to run into anyone as they walked as casually as they could down the hall, heading back the way they'd came. With any luck, no one would pay them any mind, and they could just head for an exit. Just another average and totally legitimate employee, nothing to see here.

Of course, the transgressor's luck had never been good.

"Hey, you!!"

The transgressor froze, fear rooting them to the spot as someone came up behind them. They turned to see another employee, wearing the same uniform as them, sans the hat, which the transgressor imagined would have disagreed with her head full of curly hair. Her name badge read 'TECHNICIAN: Brandi'.

"New kid! Follow me. I don't care what you were doing, I need help with one of those pass dispenser machines. Some Karen is gonna wring my neck if I don't get her the pass she bought. Dumbass got it jammed in the machine somehow. Don't just stand there, lets go!" Brandi waved impatiently for the transgressor to follow her.

Stunned, the transgressor quickly came to the realization that they hadn't been found out. The disguise had worked, Brandi had assumed they were another technician.

…Wait, this was bad. The transgressor was not a technician.

Still, they didn't want to blow their cover, so they quickly moved to follow Brandi. Maybe once they were out in the mall, they could slip away in a crowd.

"What's your name, kid?" Brandi glanced over her shoulder at the transgressor, her eyes scanning their name badge. "Chester, huh? I'm Brandi. First day on the job? You look a little lost."

The transgressor glanced down at their name badge. They nodded. They were actually lost, Brandi had lead them down a series of unfamiliar tunnels and was now guiding them up a different stairwell than the one they'd taken down last night.

"Strong silent type, huh? That's just fine, I talk more than enough for most people. Sorry to drag you into this, I just need someone to help me pry the damn pass out." Brandi slowed her ascent briefly, glancing sideways at the transgressor. "…And maybe help me handle this Karen. I really can't deal with people like that today."

The transgressor - rather, decidedly Chester- nodded in understanding. They followed Brandi through a 'STAFF ONLY' door.

Their plans to disappear into a crowd went out the window when Chester realized the Karen and the offending pass machine in question was right down the hall from the staff door.

With all the lights on and the halls full of noise and laughter, the mall seemed a world apart from the neon drenched labyrinth Chester had navigated last night. They could hear a brainless pop song bumping along through overhead speakers. A pair of kids nearly ran into them as they dashed down the hall. The kids were snickering about something.

Chester spotted the wet floor sign bot the kids had tipped over a moment later. The poor thing’s wheels were swiveling frantically as it lay helplessly on its back. Chester stopped to right the bot, setting it gently back on its wheels. They gave the bot a little pat on the head before hurrying to catch up with Brandi.

"THERE you are! I've been waiting here for seven minutes!!" the woman standing by the pass machine complained, her foot tapping impatiently.

"Sorry about that, ma'am," Brandi said. She turned to Chester and rolled her eyes before turning back to the machine. "We'll get your pass to you in no time."

"Honestly, with how much you people charge for a one day pass, you'd think you could afford better machines!" The woman huffed and folded her arms.

Brandi reached into her toolbelt (Chester hoped it wasn't suspicious that they didn't have a toolbelt) and pulled out a screwdriver. She made quick work of getting the front panel off of the pass machine, setting the panel against the wall.

"Take a look in here." Brandi beckoned Chester over, pointing at something inside.

Chester swallowed. They glanced around, searching for some sort of excuse or easy exit from the situation. When they found none, they begrudgingly crouched down beside Brandi and peered inside.

It wasn't hard to spot the pass dispenser between bundles of wires and long metal containers, holding blank passes waiting to be purchased. Chester could see a pass wedged into the dispenser slot as well, its shiny laminated surface catching the light. A corner of the plastic card appeared to be caught on the inner edge of the slot. It looked like someone had already tried to yank it free, as the corner was bent and the card was stuck at an angle.

"I think the slot itself comes out, but I can't get a good enough grip on it to pull it out," Brandi said.

Chester frowned at the slot and the card. If they could just get this over with, Brandi would leave them be and they would be free to head out of the nearest exist without suspicion.

Chester reached in and attempted to pull at the slot. When that didn't work, they tried pushing it. To their surprise, it popped free of the frame holding it in place. Chester tilted it on its side and pulled it through the frame easily. They held it up to Brandi, who'd been trying to assure the woman that it wouldn't be long now before she had her pass.

"Woah! Hey, nice job!" Brandi looked pleasantly surprised. She pulled the pass free from the back side of the slot, then handed it off to the woman.

"It's bent!" The woman scoffed. "This is ridiculous! All of that and the pass is bent. Is it even going to work like this??"

"It'll still work fine, ma'am. You just need to be able to scan the barcode on the back," Brandi assured.

The woman, still not satisfied, went back and forth with Brandi while Chester maneuvered the slot back in place. They set it back in the frame and pulled until it popped back into place. With that done, they stepped back from the machine.

Once it was clear she wasn't getting a complimentary pass or a refund for her troubles, the woman took her slightly bent pass and stormed off.

"BLEH." Brandi stuck her tongue out and grabbed the panel she'd taken off the front of the machine. "I'm glad that's over with. Hey, thanks for the help! I dunno how you got that thing out of there so easily, that was great!"

Chester gave her a thumbs up. They waited as patiently as they could as Brandi began screwing the panel back into place.

"Hey, who'd you interview with? Was it Daniel?" Brandi asked.

Chester panicked. They nodded.

"That figures, Daniel quit just yesterday. Threw his hat down and stormed out. I don't blame the guy, but jeez. There's not a whole lot of managers left. Anyways, if you had interviewed with Rosa I was going to ask if she asked you a bunch of weird questions during your interview or if that was just me. I only started here a week ago and let me tell ya! I should have taken the warning signs when I saw em." Brandi shook her head. "I mean, I'm sure you know how it is. Most places have you do the work of five people and pay you pennies for it. Turnover rate is really high here, I mean I've just been here the one week and I've seen three people come and go! But what's really bad is that I've started hearing stories about why the turnover rate is so high. Like… I mean, did you see that safety waiver packet they had us sign??"

Chester, obviously, had not seen such a thing. Luckily, they were saved from having to respond when Brandi continued her rambling unprompted.

"I'm telling you Chester, this place is bad news. I'd start looking for other employment opportunities if I were you." Brandi finished screwing the panel in place. She seemed to realize something, and quickly went on to add, "That's not to say that I'm like, trying to get you to leave! You know?? Like, I'm just looking out for you."

Chester offered Brandi a reassuring smile and nodded. They started inching away. Not that they didn't like Brandi- they actually found her charming. But they very much wanted to escape this place.

Brandi smiled and pat Chester on the shoulder. "Good deal. Thanks again for the help. I've got a list of tasks a mile long so I'd better get to it. I'll see ya around, ok?"

Brandi finally left, and Chester was at last alone. They breathed a sigh of relief, turned on their heel, and nearly collided with someone standing directly behind them.

The stranger lowered the hand she'd been about to tap Chester on the shoulder with as Chester stumbled back. This stranger was wearing a plain white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up. Her name tag read 'LEAD TECHNICIAN: Rosa Garcia'. The circles under her eyes were nearly as dark as her short hair. She carried a clipboard and a disapproving glare.

The stranger, Rosa, glanced down at Chester's nametag, then back up to meet their gaze. "Come with me."

Chester's heart pounded, their nerves jumping. Brandi had mentioned that Rosa was a manager. Did she know Chester wasn't an employee?? Should they make a break for it?

Rosa sighed. "Relax, I'm not gonna fire you or anything. Common, I don't have all day."

Chester swallowed the nervous lump in their throat. Maybe their cover hadn't been blown? They reluctantly followed Rosa down the hall.

Rosa lead them through a different 'STAFF ONLY' door. She didn't go too far down the hall before leading Chester into a small office, equipped with a desk and two chairs, a computer, a single filing cabinet, and a single poster on the wall- a picture of that bear character giving the viewer two thumbs up, a speech bubble over his head reading 'You got this superstar!'. Rosa sat down heavily in the padded chair behind a desk, setting her clipboard down next to a half empty mug of cold coffee. Chester took the metal fold out chair across the desk from Rosa, trying not to be too conspicuous about sitting on the edge of their seat, in case they needed to make a hasty exit.

Rosa turned to the computer, clicking the mouse a few times as she spoke. "I'll cut right to the chase, we're both too busy for anything else. We have no one on staff to work night shift repairs and we're gonna need you to cover it. Can you do that? I'm authorized to give you a small pay bump."

Chester wasn't sure what to say. They weren't a real employee. However, they didn't want to give themself away, so they played along. Why not?

Chester willed their hands not to shake as they signed. "I can do that."

Rosa paused. "Would you rather I used sign as well?"

"You don't have to," Chester assured, shaking their head.

Rosa nodded. She typed something into the computer. "Who did you interview with?"

Chester panicked for only a moment before a name came to mind, someone Brandi had mentioned. "Daniel." Chester recalled that Daniel had apparently quit yesterday, so Rosa wouldn't be following up with him anytime soon to confirm this.

"Right. Daniel… Daniel… Daniel's files…" Rosa tapped the mouse a few times. She grabbed the cold mug of coffee and downed it, never moving her tired gaze from the computer screen. "While we're at it… you wouldn't mind filling in for some other people, would you? We do pay overtime here." She looked at Chester hopefully.

"Sure," Chester agreed. What did it matter? They weren't actually planning on working here.

Rosa's pleased expression quickly turned to a frown at something on the computer, then she sighed. "Great. Files got corrupted again. Jesus, that's the fourth time this month." Rosa whacked the side of the computer monitor. She rubbed her forehead. "Paper forms it is."

Rosa grumbled and sighed as she hunted through the filing cabinet for whatever forms she was looking for. "Sorry about this. If you couldn't tell, this place is falling apart at the seams and we're barely keeping shit together. You'll have to fill out another employee profile form, as will a third the staff, apparently. Digital files are lost. Leave half if it blank for all I care, I know it’s a pain, just get the important stuff down." Rosa dropped a stack of papers on the desk between her and Chester.

Chester stared down at the stack, wondering if it was too late to run for it.

"What a pain in the ass," Rosa muttered, hunting through desk drawers for a pen. She paused and glanced up at Chester. "…Sorry. It's been a long day. On top of everything else there's a bunch of cops camped out at the end of the parking lot. I'm sure you saw them on your way in today. They wanted to talk to me and some other managers about suspicious activity in the area or whatever. I told them to just check the security cameras, but apparently that storm last night knocked out the power for a bit, and a few things like most of the cameras never powered back on. But the cops said they're gonna be here a while, which is even better. They're trying to catch some kinda crook on the loose, cops think they're hiding out in the woods nearby." At Chester's concerned expression, she added, "Don't worry, I'm sure it's nothing. You'll still work the night shift, right?"

Chester looked back down at the stack of papers. If the cops were camped out right outside…

What am I about to get myself into?

"I'll do it," Chester signed.

Rosa looked relieved. "Good. Don't worry about vagrants, those cops will be around a while. Just park closer to the building and you'll be fine." She held a pen out to Chester.

Chester nodded. They took the pen and picked up a blank employee profile form. It seemed they wouldn't be leaving the building for a while. And right here in front of them was everything they needed to ensure that no one minded their presence here. No one would know a thing. Once the cops had given up the ghost, they could just decide to quit. It wasn't like this was a real job, Chester wasn't even their real name. There was nothing tying them here.

They did desperately need somewhere to lay low for a while, and honestly, they really didn't have any better ideas. Chester took a deep breath, and started filling out their form.

"Thanks a lot for stepping up. Shows you've got initiative and all that." Rosa smiled. "And hey, don't forget about the safety waivers."

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years ago

Text

Forever & a Night//michael clifford

Second NYE chronicles! This is some sweet and fluffy Michael with maybe a pinch of smut who knows🤷��‍♀️ I also got very carried away. Oops. reader insert but written as fem!reader

warnings: casual drinking, champagne, first time having sex, reminiscent memories

Masterlist

NYE Chronicles masterlist

Enjoy! feedback is always welcomed :)

• • • •

Michael’s holding your hand as he weaves through the New Year’s Eve traffic. The leftover snow glitters from the neon signs of bars and restaurants that are already flooded with New Year’s Eve celebrators. The radio station is playing the top forty song of the past year, Michael’s thumb rubs over your knuckles and circles the diamond ring that hasn’t left your finger since last New Year’s Eve.

“Remember our first kiss?” he asks you, his voice soft and soothing.

His voice was one of the many things you love about Michael. The soft timber was the only thing that can calm you down if you’re frantic over a busy schedule, and the scratch of it tickled your ears in the early mornings.

“Of course I do, it was also the first time we met,” you giggle resting your head on your seat to gaze lovingly at him. The lights on the street flickered over his face, accenting his pretty green eyes and perfectly pink lips. Lips you’ve kissed since you were fourteen years old.

“You missed my lips the first time,” he chuckles, eyes sliding over to you as he rolls to a stop at a light.

“I was nervous! You were my first kiss ever.”

It happened in the basement of your (at the time) best friend’s house, she was having a New Year’s Eve party and it was your first boy/girl party to attend. It was mainly kids from school so you knew everyone but stayed on the outskirts of the party taking it all in. You were at the snack table when a call for a game of Truth or Dare aroused and you scampered away as fast as you could.

On the other side of the stairs was the tv where Michael and his best friend Calum were playing video games. Michael had on his signature dark gray beanie, making his face appear more round but you could see his boyish charms were fading into a teenager. At first, you thought he was annoying because he was loud and interrupted the teachers. Then he made a joke that you laughed at during math class and you realized how funny he was. His humor is what attracted you to him in the first place.

“You got me with a blue turtle? Fuck you,” Michael shoved Calum with his shoulder and your ears rang at the cuss.

It’s weird hearing people you’ve known since you were six use swear words now. Growing up is weird.

“Hey, Y/N, you wanna play?” Michael asked and you stared dumbfounded that he asked and that he knew your name.

“I’m fine watching,” you shrugged, moving to the floor in front of him. You sit cross legged placing your plate of snacks in front of you and start to munch. Knowing your manners, you hold up the plate of goodies. “Want some?”

“Thanks,” he smiled and took a few pieces of popcorn.

“Is the pizza here yet?” Calum asked, his eyes focused on his character.

“I don’t think so. I think Casey’s mom just went to pick it up.”

So there you sat, watching them play Mario Kart ‘64 laughing at their banter and even shouting at Michael to pull away from the wall or to watch out for a banana that’s in his path. The pizza arrived and the three of you remained in the back corner of the basement enjoying your smaller party.

When midnight neared, Casey shut the lights off so you could watch the ball drop. Michael pulled you to the back away from everyone else and for some reason you had butterflies in your stomach.

Ten minutes until midnight and Michael moved closer to you so his bicep touched the top of your shoulder. He was very tall and your arm zinged from the contact.

Five minutes until midnight and he leaned down to your ear.

“Would you maybe wanna be my kiss at midnight?” goosebumps formed on your ear and you never knew that was even possible. You nodded your head, too scared to look at him because you’ve never kissed someone before. “Cool.”

Your nerves were heightened as it ticked closer and closer to midnight. The other kids were becoming louder in anticipation of the new year but you were worried about where to put your hands and how to turn your head so your noses don’t bump.

The twenty second countdown began and Michael took hold of your hands. His were cool and soft compared to your warm clammy ones. He moved you in front of him, holding you close as his thumbs ran over your skin. It calmed you down a little.

You stared at each other as it became ten seconds. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest but you were hypnotized by his eyes.

“FIVE! FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Party horns and silly string exploded behind you as you leaned up on your toes to give him a quick kiss. You ended up kissing below his lips a little and on his chin but you still felt a shock from the contact. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his hoodie, your face hot.

Michael hugged you back with his cheek resting on the top of your head.

“Could we try that again, maybe?” he asked politely.

“Now?!” you squeaked in shock.

“Or later,” he chuckled. “How about we go back and play video games?”

“Okay.”

He held your hand as he led you back to the tv area and you both sat a little closer to each other on the couch.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you’re concentrating really hard on the tv screen and your fingers on the controller. Then you feel Michael’s lips smoosh on your cheek in a kiss. You’re frozen. Frozen in shock and heightened senses.

“Happy New Year.”

Michael’s thumb is still rubbing your hand as you both walk into the lobby of the hotel. It’s still decorated from Christmas with a few blue and silver baubles for New Year’s. At the concierge desk stood Calum and his girlfriend who were dressed to the nines for a party they would be attending after the ceremony. Calum was in all black with a gold tie and a top hat to complete the look while his girlfriend had on a pretty silver dress that sparkled in the light.

“How did we beat you here when it’s your day?” Calum asks.

“Got stuck in party traffic,” Michale laughs. “Love the hat, man. Is the officiant here?”

“Yup, he’s all set. We just have to get you in your dress,” Calum’s girlfriend beams at you.

“Everything is in the room, right?” you ask, your voice shaking slightly from excitement and nerves.

“Yes, but you can’t see what it looks like until after the ceremony. Come on, time to primp and pamper you!”

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” Michael says, tugging you against his chest. His long finger pokes your nose before he leans in to give you a soft kiss. “Breathe, baby. This is our day.”

“What are you and Cal gonna do?”

“I’m going to buy him a drink while we wait for you ladies,” Calum grins.

“Okay,” you sigh heavily. “I’ll see you soon.”

You hold each other’s hand until the last possible second, until it’s just your pinkies linked together and then you’re walking towards the elevator and he’s headed to the bar.

Calum’s girlfriend covered your eyes as you entered the honeymoon suite you and Michael reserved for after the ceremony. You’re sat in a glam chair as someone works on your hair, two other people work on your nails and toes and another does your make-up. They’re all a well oiled machine and you close your eyes, seeing past New Year’s with Michael behind your lids.

On another New Year’s Eve when you were nineteen, you were with Michael at a cabin his parents rented out for the two of you. It became a tradition of yours to order pizza and play video games. But this year...this year was going to be special. When he picked you up in his old car and he kissed you hello, you felt different.

The whole journey to the cabin was full of this energy you couldn’t quite place. It left you buzzing and in anticipation of what the night would bring. Sensing your feelings, Michael reached over and took your hand bringing it to his lips. You felt a surge of affection as you felt the shakiness of his breath on your knuckles. He was nervous too.

While you played video games and ate, you also had a drink or two as the night progressed. And as the night progressed, you became warm and filled with a burning you’ve never felt before. Michael was in the kitchen opening a bottle of champagne he brought and walked in with two gold flukes.

“For you my lady,” he handed you a glass then poured the bubbly in your glass. It simmered and fizzled the bubbles away while he poured his own. “This is called ‘34+35.’’

“What does that mean?” you asked while taking a sip then smack your lips together at the sweet taste.

“Probably the year? I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Hey! We need to toast first before you drink!”

“Sorry!”

“To our five year tradition and anniversary,” he smiled looping his arm around yours. “I love you, kitty.”

“I love you, too,” you smiled then you both took a drink.

Two glasses later, you were both laid out on the large couch with Michael nestled between your legs, your lips connected in drunken kisses. Both of you are in your underwear and Michael’s fingers are dipping under the strap of your bra. He pulled it off your shoulder and his lips moved to the free space above your breast.

The scruff of his beard tickled your skin, his lips so soft on your skin as he kissed it lower, lower, and lower until he pulled the cup of your bra down. Being exposed to the air and his hot breath made your nipple harden. Michael sucked it between his teeth and you gasped at the newfound sensation. His lips puckered around your mound while his tongue flicked and circled your nipple.

“Does this feel okay?” he asked, his voice a little raspy.

“Good...good,” you nodded squeezing his shoulders, “really good, Mikey.”

After a few more light suckles, he pulled your other cup down and used his mouth in the same fashion. You closed your eyes at the care he was taking with his mouth on you. He palmed your other breast, rolling your peaked nipple between his fingers and you rolled your hips against his trying to tame the heat between your legs.

Soon after, the rest of your clothes were discarded and you stared a little wide-eyed as he rolled a condom on his hardened dick. He pumped himself twice to make sure it was on properly, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“You’re sure?” he asked and you shifted your eyes to his face.

There was so much love and care in those sea glass eyes. In answer to his question, you dragged him by his neck so he was on top of you.

“It’s you, Michael. I want you,” you mumbled on his lips.

It took some time because it was the first time for the both of you. Tears pricked in your eyes as he nudged himself inside you, even with the lube he brought it was forgein to your anatomy but each inch felt better.

You were both breathing heavily as he adjusted, he was very patient and his careful care made sweat form on his skin.

“You feel amazing,” he panted closing his eyes. His head drooped to your neck, hot breath fanning your skin and he began to rock.

Each pull and thrust the burn between your legs lessened and was replaced with a new sensation that made your toes curl. It was special, it was hot, it was all brand new but you loved every minute of it because you and Michael were perfect for each other.

Afterwards, he poured you both another glass of champagne as you snuggled under the large blanket watching the New Year’s celebration on tv. You hadn’t even realized it was the new year because you were so involved with each other.

“New Year’s Eve is my favorite holiday,” Michael said.

“You’re just saying that because you got lucky,” you teased taking the bottle from him.

“Yeah I got lucky. Lucky to have you as my best friend, my girlfriend, and now my lover. New Year’s Eve is our day, babe.”

“Forever?” you asked, holding out your pinky.

“Forever and a night,” he grinned, linking his pinky with yours.

You’re adjusting the flowers in your hand as you walk towards the small party room where Michael is waiting for you. About a year after that first time, Michael started off on his music career and with timing and being on different continents, that was the last New Year’s you spent with him until two years ago. You still were in each other’s orbits silently cheering the other on on social media.

You met up again on New Year’s Eve at a mutual friend’s party. You stuck by each other like glue, reminiscing and catching up on new adventures you’ve both had. Discussions of break-ups, stupid moments, and other memories occurred and when the ball dropped you were already kissing.

“It’s just you and him,” Calum’s girlfriend tells you quietly.

The music starts inside, the doors open and she walks down the small aisle laden with glitter paper and flowers. You adjusted your dress, a pretty champagne color and took a deep breath as you made your way to your best friend. Michael couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

The ceremony was short and simple since it was just the four of you. Michael’s vows made you cry because he brought up past New Year’s Eve moments. He held your pinky the whole time then when you were declared husband and wife, he cradled your face in his hands pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Your first kiss as husband and wife.

Photos were taken shortly after, then Calum and his girlfriend were off to finish the rest of the evening at a party. They offered their congratulations and happiness before you and Michael were finally alone. When the elevator doors open, he lifts you in his arms and walks across the threshold into your honeymoon suite.

“I’ll do this again when we’re back home,” he says nuzzling your cheek.

The room is decorated with roses and candles. Near the window overlooking the city is a table with steak, shrimp, fruit, champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. The meal is delectable, the champagne is your favorite ‘34+35’ brand. Michael snapped pictures of you and you took some of him. Then you took one with your hands over the other capturing your wedding bands.

“How about we take a bath?” he asks, already scooting his chair from the table.

The bubbles are warm and so is the bubbly in your flukes. You share kisses that leave your lips tingling and soon you’re in his lap.

“I’m having deja vu here,” he mumbles moving his lips over your jaw.

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing.” he sucks on your neck and you gasp.

Shortly after, you shift back into the suite and fall on top of the dark gold bedspread. Michael rocks into you and you’re filled with overwhelming sensations. He drags his tongue between the valley of your breasts and you gasp out his name when he hits a certain spot.

Your fingers link and your wedding bands clink together just as fireworks explode outside. It must be midnight.

“Happy New Year, wife,” he pants, his eyes glazed over as he looks down at you. He gives you a kiss.

“Happy New Year, husband,” you smile lazily then bite your lip as your toes curl.

“New Year’s Eve, it’s always been you,” he sighs, knocking his forehead to yours. His hips move at a slower pace. “My best friend, my girlfriend, my lover, my fiancé, and now my wife.”

“New Year’s is ours,” you smile stretching your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “Forever…”

“Forever and a night.”

He lifts your arms over your head, starting the new year the way you know best, connected.

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#nye chronicles #michael clifford oneshot #michael clifford smut #michael smut #micahel 5sos #michael 5sos writing #michael fluff #michael clifford fluff #5sos writing

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yzkhr · 4 years ago

Text

take me laser tagging and then push me into a corner and kiss me. then shoot me and walk away.

Today was almost the perfect definition of a relaxing day for Tokyo University's criminology student Kudo Shinichi. The weather was nice, with some of the sun's warm rays making it's way through the gaps of their window in the living room. The place was quiet, free of any random advices from his father and constant doting of his mother.

With him laying comfortably on the soft couch with his hand holding his favorite mystery novel and a cup of steaming hot coffee on the near table, today was just a nice day to chill.

Not until his girlfriend came in ruined it all.

Stomping her feet rather aggressively, Mouri Ran made her way towards her boyfriend whose obvious comfort in his position made her already bad mood turn worse.

He felt her presence but decided to pay no heed to it, not wanting to peel his eyes of the most exciting part. However, ignoring her was proven impossible as she literally flopped her body down on top of him, startling his composure.

"Ran" he reprimanded. However, looking at her innocent—still with a hint of annoynce—face, Shinichi decided to just let her be. Besides, having Ran close to him was never a bad thing.

Then she just had to insert her head in the crook of his neck, making his previous calm heartbeat faster. He tried to focus on the book, but the warm inhaling and exhaling on his neck wasn't making it any easier.

But, the last straw of his ability to be comprehensive was gone when Ran started kissing the side of his neck lightly.

Feeling his entire body slightly tremor, he tried to say something—anything— but his thoughts were cut off when she slightly sucked a sensitive spot. He couldn't help but let out a grunt.

The so called precious book in Shinichi's hand was now gone, as he was grabbing on to something more important. Feeling his hands around her waist, Kudo Shinichi's little tease finally spoke.

"Shinichi?" she asked, deliberately whispering into his ear.

"Hmm?"

He tried to gather his thoughts but they were all blocked out by pleasure.

"You love me right?"

It was a weird question, seeing how utterly submissive he is right now to her but he answered nonetheless, although with half of a mind.

"yah."

"You'll do anything for me?"

On any normal day, he would have been frightened at such a question but today wasn't a normal day. Specially if his girlfriend is already slightly nibbling at his left ear.

"yah.."

"Then, you'll go laser tagging with me?"

At this point, his mind was already somewhere else. Without even thinking about it as he's focusing on her kisses and nibbles instead of words, Shinichi instinctively answered.

"yahh.."

One second she was on top of him—making him lose his focus and ability to understand a thing except for the fact that she was kissing him—the next Ran was already on her way to her room, skipping lightly.

After a few milliseconds, Shinichi's brain catches up, finally getting the purpose of Ran's unusual and sudden actions a while ago. He hastily stood up and started making his way towards her and knocked three desperate times.

"Ran!" he protested, not wanting to leave his safe haven(that was completely destroyed) but Ran only answered in a muffled voice through the walls of their room.

"You said yes!" she even spoke in a sing-song manner which implied that she was already almost done dressing up and backing out would be unacceptable.

Kudo Shinichi ruffled his hair in frustration, the events just a few minutes earlier repeating in his head.

"She got me." he whispered, defeated.

It was a good thing joypolis was not far away from their house so they can get in the laser tag place easier and get out of there faster as well.

As they got into the vest room after the short briefing of the game, Shinichi was still very contemplative if wasting time at a game of laser tag more worth it than finishing his mystery novel back at home but seeing Ran's bright smile as she's wearing her vest similar to a child definitely made Shinichi lean on laser tagging.

As everyone—except Shinichi— get ready to enter the gaming arena, Ran pulled him out of his inner thoughts by slightly elbowing him at the side.

"Why do you look so bored Shinichi? Come on, it'll be fun." she chided, as if forgetting she dragged him out of the house.

"Sorry but my definition of fun today would be finishing my mystery book at home."

His girlfriend only raised an eyebrow and grinned at his remark.

"But that's boring. Laser tagging is so much more fun!"

He gave up, knowing clearly their definition of fun differ too much from one another.

But, maybe Ran could be right. Maybe Laser Tagging could be entertaining and not boring. Not to brag or anything but, Shinichi was pretty sure he can beat everyone with his eyes closed so he just hoped the game wouldn't be over in just a few minutes.

He lied. They were losing.

It wasn't even because his team was bad, it was because the other group were just a lot stronger. What frustrated him even more was the fact that it was only a single person that made the other team stronger. Of course, it was none other than his karate champion girlfriend.

Half of him was proud, this being the proof of her speed and good reflexes but the other half was annoyed, knowing he was losing and he can't do anything about it.

It was almost impossible to caught a Mouri Ran off guard. Before they can even get close to her, she would already feel their presence and turn around to shoot them. They also can't go face to face. There was nothing left except to--

Well, Shinichi was pretty sure he was going to get his ass kicked if wouldn't work, but it was worth the try.

Ran was confident. They were winning by a landslide. It was fairly easy compared to her battles with Kasumi-senpai. Her enemies were quick to spot and with her quick reflexes, she can shoot them in no time. She was sure that nothing would get in the way of their team to win.

If only she didn't get so cocky.

Ran was about to turn around a corner to try and find her targets when a cold hand yanked her to the opposite direction instead.

Having no time to react, she found herself being pushed into a close corner, her back making contact to the frigid wall. Since it was dark, with only a few placed neon lights in their area, she couldn't see the culprit. The stranger's hands were now on both side of her shoulders, successful at pining her. Despite the situation, she did take note how gentle they were, making sure that she didn't get hurt from the push.

Finally finding her voice and composure, Ran attempted to scold whoever the person was only to lost them again, this time, through a kiss.

For a second, she didn't know how to react. Involuntarily, her clenched fist was on their way to her kisser's face, only for Ran to stop it halfway, tasting a familiar minty taste from her mouth.

'Shinichi' Ran immediately thought.

Still having a little bit of her sanity left, she tried to break away—weakly, being distracted at how nice the kissing was—but to absolutely no avail.

In fact, he only leaned in harder, pushing his tongue inside her mouth, this time, making her totally blank.

The rational part of her was practically screaming, telling her how wrong and embarrassing the scene was but all the irrational part wanted was to pull him even closer and deepen the kiss more than ever. So she did.

Ran wrapped her armed left hand and empty right hand around her boyfriend, coaxing him closer.

At that moment, all that mattered was his lips on hers and their body making contact with each other as they push and pull.

When Ran wanted to go laser tagging, she meant it with every sense of the word. But perhaps, stuff like this would happened and it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, she might even prefer it than shooting beams at light vests.

Not being contented with just her lips, Shinichi went for her neck, and sucked it lightly, the same spot she did his earlier that day.

She definitely preferred this.

This wasn't the plan.

He was just suppposed to kiss her lightly and distract her for a short period of time so why is he still there, pining her against the wall, desperately kissing each other like there's no tomorrow?

An eternity pass but neither one wanted to pull away. He should've been running out of ari by now. But for him, kissing Ran had never been so tiring. In fact, Shinichi could do it all day if he was permitted to. The odd sweet taste that only she have—not that he kissed any other girl before— he wanted to name it.

The two of them completely forgot about the ongoing game, with them playing a more exciting and pleasurable game on their own.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—a tiny bit of Shinichi came back to it's senses by hearing a faint shooting sound, bringing him to his current task at hand.

Knowing that if he stayed longer kissing her, he'd just be sucked in again so he move to her neck, sucking it, with both the intent of distracting her and something else.

Seeing Ran completely dazed, he slowly held his gun up to her stomach while still kissing her, albeit less aggressive for fear he'll lose himself and never stop.(which doesn't sound so bad.)

With one last smack, he pulled the trigger.

The loud sound effect of a shooting beam broke Ran out her trance with her slightly nodding her head off. She was breathing hard, still trying to catch air from the activity.

Seconds passed as the post-kiss effect was finally gone, that's only when she noticed one of her lights were off. The previous sound of a shooting beam came back to her.

She looked up to see Shinichi grinning, slightly waving his gun off. In that moment, everything clicked.

Ran's face warped from the state confusion to anger almost instantly. Shinichi took that as a sign to get away.

"Shinichi!" Before she could even begin to run after him, he was already gone. Advantage of a spccer player with strong legs.

Having the kissing scene played out in her mind, she sighed with mixed in feelings in them.

"He got me."

I'm new to writing kissing scenes so please bear with me :))

#detective conan #shinran #one-shot #fluff

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hostess-of-horror · 3 years ago

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The Stranger

[This is a retcon of my previous story, "An Unexpected Guest." I wanted to start all over because I didn't know where to take the story and it felt rather fast and sloppily written. It will have a similar plotline but approached in a different (and better) way. Also, M.B. is my self-insert OC, the character Jawaii belongs to @strawbunniiee and Phantom belongs to Nintendo/Ubisoft.]

For @strawbunniiee, @salamifuposey, @kindpopstar, and everyone else who wants to read it!

---

Jawaii: "Again, again!"

[Jawaii laughed as she is lifted up and thrown into the air. After a few seconds of airtime, she falls right back into Phantom's mitten-like paws. Her tiny frame perfectly fits into his palms like a little doll. Phantom giggles along with her, and hugs her into his chest.]

Phantom: "Whew! My arms are getting tired. How about we head on over to my theater?"

Jawaii: "Okay!"

[They begin to venture back into the theater. A dense, eerie fog looms over the land of Spooky Trails. The further they went, the thicker the fog became.]

Jawaii: "It's so foggy! I can't see anything."

Phantom: "Every now and then, Spooky Trails would become hidden by fog. And by the looks of things, it appears to be a full moon out tonight. What perfect timing, and how awfully fitting!"

Jawaii: "Yeah, it makes sense, considering how creepy the place is. I'm not scared though."

Phantom: "Heh... For many travelers, nights like this are the reason why so many of them often get lost. Some of them just head back to where they came from. But for me and the other inhabitants, a foggy night is normal. Think of it as like a rainy day for the citizens of the Mushroom Kingdom."

Jawaii: "I think it's cool! It's like we're floating on clouds!"

[Jawaii reaches out and waves her hand into the fog. A cool breeze chills her skin as white wisps pass through her fingers.]

Phantom: "It certainly does. I love the fog. It brings such a wonderful atmosphere for whenever I sing. Ethereal and otherworldly. I can blend easily amongst the fog and no one could see me!"

Jawaii: "Really?"

Phantom: "Yes! Despite my, well, rather massive size."

Jawaii: "You would be the ultimate champion of hide-and-seek!"

Phantom: "Oh well, I wouldn't say that... unless the competition is in Spooky Trails."

[Jawaii giggles. Suddenly, their conversation is cut short as Phantom abruptly stops.]

Jawaii: "What is it?"

Phantom: "The gate... I thought I closed it."

[Jawaii turns to see the silver gate that stands guard in front of Phantom's theater. She notices it has been left opened. Phantom gently lets her down to investigate.]

Phantom: "Someone must have pried it open." *turns to Jawaii* "Stay here."

[Phantom floats over through the gate and into his theater. Jawaii watches as he looks around, searching for any more signs of trespassing. She inches forward to investigate as well.]

Phantom: "Thieves... whoever opened the gate must be a thief! I don't know how they did it, though, it's a very heavy gate."

Jawaii: "There aren't any scratches, at least so far. Maybe they... crawled over the gate and opened it on the other side?"

Phantom: "Hmmm... Whatever happened, I do hope they didn't steal anything of value."

????: "Looking for this?"

[Phantom spins around to look behind. Standing across from him is a trio of thieves, grinning and chuckling menacingly. The shortest one in the front of the other two is holding a vinyl, spinning it in his hand. Jawaii runs over to Phantom to stand guard.]

Phantom: "Jawaii, no!"

Short Thief (#1): "Awww, look at dis, fellas! The big guy's gotta lil' baby doll to save his big behind! I think she wants to meet the Bandit Boys in person!"

Tall Thief (#2): "Yeah!"

Middle Thief (#3): "Hehehe, yeah, boss!"

Thief (#1): *mockingly* "Why hello there, little girl! Do you wanna play tea party with us and your friend over there?"

[The Bandit Boys cackle in unison. Jawaii growls and prepares her battle stance. Her hands shapeshifting into long sharp swords, glistening underneath the moonlight. The thieves immediately stop as they notice. Phantom prepares to fight alongside Jawaii.]

Thief (#3): "Da fuq?"

Jawaii: "I... don't..... LIKE TEA!!!"

[As she screeches, Jawaii leaps towards the Bandit Boys in an attack. She lands on the tall thief (#3) and the other two separate in defense. Thief (#1) holds the vinyl close and Thief (#2) goes to attack Phantom, but is immediately met with a musical sonic wave as Phantom belts out a hig note. He goes flying and lands farther back into the ground.]

Thief (#1): "You knucklehead! Get the girl!"

Thief (#3): "Get her offa me! She's poking me!"

Jawaii: *stabbing* "Give! Phantom! Back! His! Vinyl! THINGY!!!" *more stabbing*

[Thief (#1) groans and runs towards Jawaii. He flings her off of Thief (#3), sending her falling on the ground. Jawaii winced in pain; Phantom immediately picks her up to protect her. Thief (#2) gets up and joins the other two. Thief (#3) is covered in wounds but he still stands.]

Thief (#1): "Alright... you two can put up a fight.... Heh, but not for long... We still got our loot!"

Thief (#2): "Hehehe, yeah, we got it!"

Thief (#3): "Hehe... heh... owww...."

Phantom: "Leave this place now!

Thief (#1): "Or what? You're gonna put on a performance? Sing a musical number like some Disney princess? Nah. I don't think so. In fact, you've got something else. Something that is very, very valuable. Inside that belly of yours... is a gramophone. A very expensive gramophone."

[Thief (#1) pulls out a knife. Phantom is taken aback and backs off slowly.]

Phantom: "How... do you know?"

Thief (#1): "I know a lotta things. That's why I'm the leader. Now... where to cut..."

[Before Thief (#1) gets a chance to do any damage, an explosion of shimmering light blinds him. After regaining his sight, he finds himself and the other two thieves surrounded by a strange aura. A magical curse was cast, trapping the Bandit Boys within its barrier. The barrier appears to be strange smoke, fading in between the colors neon purple and neon green.]

Jawaii: "Woah..."

Phantom: "What... on earth?"

[The silver gate creaks. Everyone turns. There standing at the entrance is an unfamiliar face, with her right hand lifted up in the air. In her hand is the same kind of aura the magical circle was emitting. She continues to walk towards the Bandit Boys.]

Jawaii: "Phantom, do you know who that is?"

Phantom: "I've never seen her before in my entire life."

[As the stranger continues to walk, she twirls her hands, bending the aura to her will. As she does, the magical circle twists and contorts into a mass of skeletal spirits. The Bandit Boys huddle together, avoiding their bony grasp. The spirits moan and wail into an anguished cacophony, cornering the thieves as they reach out and crawl towards them. The stranger laughs at their fear. She then bends the aura again, this time having the spirits hold them down while she walks up to them. Soon, raspy voices begin to call out.]

Spirits: "Cut them.... cut them open.... dissect them.... dissect them all.... their insides are valuable.....!"

Thief (#1): "W-wait a minute! Hold on there, now! We're just thieves! And it's only one measly vinyl! Isn't this all a bit extreme?"

Thief (#3): "Y-yeah! W-we.... we can give you money! You can have all of it!"

Thief (#2): *whimpering* "Just... just don't hurt us!"

[The stranger stares at the Bandit Boys, saying nothing. She then motions her hand, allowing herself to walk through the magical circle. The spirits all look at her and bow one by one. The Bandit Boys watch as each one respectfully worship her. Who is this woman, and what kind of sorcery is this? She walks up to Thief (#1) and kneels down, looking at him eye to eye.]

Stranger: "Do you really think apologizing or bribery is going to work?"

Thief (#1): "...."

Stranger: "I'm going to give you a choice. I want you and your 'gang' to leave. Not just them, but everyone. I suggest you give up your greedy ways and actually get a life for once. Or, if you'd rather not..."

[The stranger motions her hand again and the spirits transform into an amalgamation of monsters. They writhe and contort, baring their teeth, clawing their flesh, their eyes wild with hunger. Their howling echoes throughout the theater.]

Stranger: "... then take a chance. I dare you..."

[The Bandit Boys suddenly scurry away in fear. Thief (#1) hand over the vinyl and follows behind, never looking back once. The stranger sighs and stands up, examining the vinyl.]

Stranger: "I hope there aren't any scratches on it."

[She turns around and sees Phantom and Jawaii staring at her with wide eyes. A moment of silence between them all passes.]

Jawaii: "That was... AWESOME! How did you do that?! Tell me, tell me!"

Phantom: "...."

[Phantom remains speechless as Jawaii hops out from his arms and approaches the stranger. The stranger looks at Phantom, her excitement getting the best of her.]

Stranger: "I can't believe it... it's you! You're still here after all this time!"

Phantom: "Excuse me?"

Stranger: "I was looking for you! I heard in the Mushroom Kingdom many stories about you. Some say you were gone after Mario defeated you, and some say you were still around. A few believe that you're nothing but a ghost story. I had to find out for myself."

Jawaii: "A ghost story? But he's as real as I am!"

Phantom: "Madamoiselle, I greatly appreciate your help and for saving me and my friend, Jawaii, here. But, do forgive me, who are you?"

Jawaii: "Oh yeah! What's your name?"

Stranger: "Oh, uh... my bad! Should've introduced myself first... my name is M.B. Consider me as a really big fan." *smiles*

#my writing #fanfiction #M.B.#self-insert OC #Jawaii #OC #Phantom of the Bwahpera #Phantom #Tom Phan #mario rabbids kingdom battle #mario + rabbids kingdom battle #mario rabbids #mario + rabbids

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Wedding Bells Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x reader (gender neutral) Words: 1150 words Description: After solving a case in Las Vegas, Nevada, the Winchesters and you are heading off. While you are fast asleep in the back seat, they pass a chapel, and Dean can’t help but let his mind wander. Warnings: Fluff. Seriously, that’s it (I know, shocking) Author’s note: A lot of rare sightings in this story! Soft fluff, a 1K story instead of the usual 5 or 6K, and a gender neutral Reader. This one is for all the people out there who feel excluded when it comes to reader insert fanfiction. I love you, and you matter. Thank you for inspiring me, Mert! Beta’d by the lovely @winchest09. Thank you, darling!

Flashing lights, neon signs. Big casinos luring innocents inside, even though it’s clear the house always wins. But then again, not many people in Las Vegas can be considered innocent.

Dean takes in the scenery as he drives his 67’ Chevrolet down The Strip, the brightly lit billboards and advertisements reflecting on the Impala, gliding over the polished black paint job like colored raindrops. Flamboyant hotels tower high on both sides of the boulevard, exclusive cars that cost more than a single family home waiting for the red light. Scarcely dressed ladies parade the cross walk like models, headlights their spotlights. One with curly blonde hair, wearing nothing more than a tied up top and a mini skirt, looks over at the Winchesters, winking at the boys. “This town is crazy,” Sam scoffs from the passenger’s seat, watching the girls pass in front of them. Dean huffs. “Sure is.”

There was a time that he would have loved this place and would have begged his brother to stay a couple of days. The stripclubs, the bars, the food. Twenty something Dean would have had tons of fun gambling, drinking and partying until the early hours, to wake up in a trashed hotel room with a stranger in his bed who he can’t remember the name of. But after being on a case involving a cursed slot machine for two days, he has had enough of the city known for second chances and lost wages. It’s not wisdom that came with age that triggered his change of heart. Neither is life experience the cause of his desire for normal and simplicity. No, the true reason is fast asleep in the back of his car.

Dean glances over his shoulder, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth when he sees you curled up against the leather seat, using a duffel bag as a pillow and his leather jacket as a blanket. The hunt tired you out, but the older Winchester is glad you got through it without a scratch this time. The expression on your pretty face is peaceful, eyes closed and mind calm, even breaths passing your lips.

His hand slides off the wheel and turns the volume button of the radio to the left, toning down Elvis on the local station; he wouldn’t want you to wake up because of the music. The light turns green and he steps on the gas lightly, making sure the moving car doesn’t stir you.

The Impala rolls up the iconic Las Vegas boulevard, heading north. They leave Ceasar’s Palace, the Bellagio fountains and the Venetian casino in the rear view mirror, the road now flanked by bars and restaurants. When another red light forces them to stop, Dean’s eyes wander to a small white building on the corner of the intersection. It’s one of the many wedding chapels this city is known for.

Sam glances aside at his older brother, perceiving the dreamy stare. When he follows Dean’s gaze, he too notices the church, brightly illuminated in true Vegas fashion. ‘Little White Chapel’ the road sign says, ‘24 hours drive up wedding window’. The younger Winchester scoffs at the absurdity, but his face falls slightly when he turns his head to observe Dean, who witnesses a newly wedded couple coming out, intoxicated, yet clearly head over heels.

“You ever think about it?” The driver is pulled from his own thoughts, tearing away his eyes and briefly looking over at his brother. He’s very well aware what Sam is aiming for; he’s asking if he ever considered marrying you. Before answering, Dean glances over his shoulder again to make sure you’re still asleep. “Check the glove compartment,” he says. Somewhat puzzled Sam frowns, but does as told. He opens the lid, but isn’t sure what he’s looking for. “Behind Dad’s journal,” Dean adds. His brother pushes the leather bound book to the side. His eyes grow wide when he notices what’s behind. Stunned, he pulls out a small jewelry box. As if he cannot believe there could actually be a ring inside, he opens the lid, revealing the golden band with a single diamond.

“Whoa…” he utters, completely astonished. “How long have you had this?” “Couple of months,” Dean admits. “Been waiting for the right time, but with everything going on…” He doesn’t finish his sentence; Sam knows what he means. He nods, the wordless gesture telling his older brother he understands where he’s coming from.

The light turns green and the silence returns as Dean turns left and heads to the highway, but he can see his sibling staring down at the tiny box in his hand from the corner of his eye. The beautifully cut stone catches the city lights, reflecting flakes unto the ceiling of the car. “Better put that away,” Dean suggests, hinting at the back seat.

Sam carefully closes the lid of the jewelry box and hides it in the glove compartment again, exactly where Dean left it. For a long minute it seems all has been said, but after pondering on it for a while, he decides to offer his older brother some advice. “Don’t wait too long.” Dean glances aside. “What d’you mean?” He watches the man in the passenger seat collect himself, carefully thinking through his words before he speaks. “I picked out a ring for Jess,” Sam starts. “I had it for about a month, when…” His unspoken words fill the air between them. Even after all this time, Jessica still has a piece of Sam’s heart. Dean cannot imagine what it’s like, to lose the one person you love. The sheer thought has him anxious. But pretending that Death, who has been chasing them for many years, will not catch up at some point, is naive. Especially with the life they are living, case after case, apocalypse after apocalypse. Sammy is right; he has to pop the question sooner than later. “I won’t,” he promised, offering an empathetic smile.

Dean keeps his promise, because when they pull over for the night, Sam takes the hint and gives him a moment alone with you. Under a pale street light, in the parking lot of a cheap motel, he asks you to marry him. Without a shadow of a doubt, you accept, falling into his arms and hiding your tears in the crook of his neck. They don’t even check in. Instead, Sam is hauled into the car before heading to the interstate, taking the ramp to Las Vegas. After all, a shotgun wedding seems only fitting for two hunters.

In the little white chapel, with Sam as their witness, the two of you vow to love and to cherish each other, for better and for worse. Not even God can take this away, no matter what happens tomorrow.

It’s you and him, ‘until death do us part’.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

#Dean x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester #Dean fluff #Dean Winchester x you #Dean x you #Dean fanfiction #Dean Winchester fluff #Dean drabble #Dean oneshot #Dean Winchester reader insert #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN fanfiction #Sam Winchester #Wedding Bells #Kate Huntington

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swimyghost · 4 years ago

Text

Be Careful

Sup bros, this is the first fanfic in what I’m calling the Shared Universe between my friends @wickedhellagoodtime @holyfandomsnazz @self-insert-nonsense

I hope you all enjoy.

College was boring. That wasn't an opinion but a fact to many. Although college was newly free humans and nonhumans’ first taste of freedom, the long lectures and the even longer list of assignments wore many down.

All except for one.

??????, or simply Six-Q to their three friends, was an odd student, to say the least. They were nonbinary, a target for simple teasing and major bigots alike, but they never fought back. No, they left the fighting to their 6'1 werewolf friend who wasn't afraid to use her natural strength again childish older teens. Six-Q also suffered from the fact that no one could identify if they were human or not. Their eyes were a bright neon purple, a color that matched the tips of their black hair. Their body was slender and tall, but not a giant compared to the real giants that occupied the campus. Six-Q was also quiet, very quiet, but it wasn't due to shyness or being anti-social. It was because their mouth was sewn shut with ebony thread.

"Why do you have that stupid thread anyway?" asked Six-Q's first-ever college friend, Riley.

Six-Q let an exhale out of their nose. Riley Stormcross was a stubborn, high-class woman who didn't take a simple 'no' for an answer. More simply, Riley was a well-off daddy's girl who hated simple explanations and wanted to pry into everyone's life. That wasn't to say she was completely full of negative traits, Riley was fiercely loyal to her friends but downright venomous to her enemies. Six-Q once saw her drunkenly fight off two frat boys because started calling them a queer. They were rather impressed after she won that battle while completely intoxicated and could walk stably enough to get more drinks.

"I told you, it’s complicated," Six-Q said, flashing signs underneath the rounded lecture hall table so the teacher won't notice.

"Yeah, well, I've been your friend for like, two years now? You have to tell me why." Riley huffed, crossing her arms over her teal crop top. Six-Q could vaguely make out a worn cartoon storm cloud with an angry face printed in the middle of her crop top.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it." Six-Q attempted to weasel their way out of the conversation. Their literally sealed lips were a sensitive topic they'd rather not think about.

"C'mon, it can't be that bad! Besides, I told you my secret technique on how to get neckbeards to tip more when-"

"Ms. Stormcross! Leave Mr. Q alone. Just because I seated you next to him to translate doesn't mean you have the right to speak with him whenever."

Oh, no was they only thought Six-Q had. All the rest of the students thought the same because nervous looks they had when they peered over at the electric blue-haired girl. Riley's left eye twitch. "They."

"Pardon?" the teacher said, sounding tired as if he had this conversation before.

"Six-Q uses they/them pronouns. We've been over this, like, what, six times, old man." Riley snapped.

"That's Professor Walker to you, young lady, and I don't appreciate your tone." Professor Walker's eyes narrowed into slits.

Riley's own sky blue eyes followed suit. "I'd be a lot happier if you actually tried to use the correct pronouns for once. Have you forgotten who my father is? One call to the dean and he'll have your teaching license suspended."

Barrett Stormcross was a meteorologist to the rest of the world. But to the nonhuman and human communities who knew about the world of witches, he was a powerful storm witch with the ability to predict and create most, if not all, storms. Six-Q hadn't met the man, but judging by the quiet gasps and the reddening face of the teacher, he was a big deal.

"I will not tolerate threats in my classroom, Ms. Stormcross! Leave, now!"

"Fine!" Riley shouted back. She began shoveling her textbooks and notebooks into her tote bag and stormed out of the classroom while giving Professor Walker a death glare. The hard slam of the wooden door shook the whole room. Six-Q swore another crack had been added to the list of cracks and missing wood fragments on the door. The lecture hall wasn't big, so Six-Q couldn't easily hide under the desk in shame, away from the stares that all the students, from the students sitting on the same level as Six-Q to those in the higher level desks.

"Uh, Mr. Wa-"

"Professor!" the teacher snapped. Six-Q could see that he was frantically trying to compose himself by brushing his white hair and beard and flicking off invisible pieces of dirt from his vest.

"Yeah, right. Professor Walker, what do we do about the deaf kid?"

Mute! Six-Q thought tartly. Professor Walker glared at them, causing the older teen to shrink into their seat.

"Well, guess he won't be able to participate, will he?"

No one dared corrected his misgendering, choosing to listen to the professor ramble on about psychology and the human mind once more. Six-Q could barely focus on Walker's words. A wave of anger was building in their chest. One that wasn't entirely their own.

Calm down, please! Six-Q silently panicked.

"And that concludes the topic on social cognition. Now, we have a test next week on Wednesday so study, all of you!"

Six-Q blinked back to the present noticing their classmates passing them without even looking in their direction. The only thing a student did that got any sort of reaction from Six-Q was one of their Fae classmates had flown directly over them, nearly hitting them in the back of the head. Six-Q quickly stuffed their books into their backpack and tried to race out of the classroom.

"Mr. Q."

Six-Q froze in the middle of the doorway. Classmates shoved them aside so they could leave the room. Six-Q slowly turned and nodded towards the Professor. The Professor took his glasses off his forehead and rested them on his podium.

"I understand you kids like forging new genders and titles to make yourselves feel special, but try to tell your friend to not have tantrums in class if her feelings get hurt."

Six-Q flashed a sideways okay hand underneath their chin. Professor Walker took that as a sign that Six-Q understood and waved his hand like he was waving away a stray dog. "You're dismissed."

Six-Q bowed their head then shuffled out into the crowded white tiled hall. They couldn't help but smile. That sideways okay was the sign for "asshole". Six-Q didn't like to swear, but Riley's and their roommate Rei's unfiltered mouths had rubbed off on them. Speaking of Riley, Six-Q knew they had to find the hot-headed girl or else a fight would ensue. They trudged through the slow-moving crowd then managed to stumble onto the campus grounds.

Despite it nearly being the middle of fall, the trees still held onto their bright green leaves. A peaceful atmosphere hung over the grounds as students and teachers alike walked around on the freshly cut grass. Six-Q could see two centaurs playing frisbee with each other, laughing as it spun in the air like a dancer. Harpies, Fae, Sylphs, and other winged nonhumans happily flew through the sky, laughing as a harsh, yet warm breeze blew over them and ruined one Fae girl's hair. Six-Q could see a study group taking place as well as a picnic date. They took a deep breath and let out a content sigh. This was what college was about, not transphobic old men.

It didn't take Six-Q to find Riley. She was sitting under a tree with one leg folded close to her chest and another laid straight on the grass. She had some wireless earbuds in listening to some type of loud music, so it wasn't a surprise when Six-Q didn't try to get her attention it failed. She was also hypnotized by something on her phone so it lessened Six-Q chances of gaining her attention. Finally, what got Riley to notice them was Six-Q lightly kicking her checkered slip-on shoes. At first, Riley furrowed her brows and glared up at the disturber of her peace. When she realized who had bothered her, her expression turned positive and she pulled the earbuds out.

"Hey, is class over? What did old man Walker say about me?"

"Nothing. But he didn't call one of the translators from the head office or anything so I had to sit in silence." Six-Q explained.

"That bastard!" Riley snarled. For once, Six-Q didn't feel like calming her down. In fact, they wanted to match her rage. Sadly, they had to be the reasonable one in the relationship or else Riley would've been put in jail for life already.

"But I did call him something on the way out." Six-Q continued, hoping Riley noticed their devious smile.

"What?"

Six-Q showed her the sign and she immediately burst into high-pitched laughter.

"Please tell me this isn't a joke! Please tell me you actually did that!" Riley asked through her laughs. Six-Q proudly nodded, causing her to laugh more. It took a while, but the witch finally stopped and caught her breath.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, Q." Riley declared.

"Yep!" Six-Q replied.

Riley chuckled, then stood up, dusting some dirt off her shorts. "Hey, you don't have any classes after psychology, right?"

Six-Q, worried about where this was going, nodded. Without warning, Riley wrapped her arm around their's and set off towards the campus's exit.

"C'mon, let's go shopping!"

"Shopping?!" exclaimed Six-Q, being forced to spell it out on one hand due to the other being stuck in Riley's tight grip.

"Yeah! My monthly Patreon money just came in and I need some new clothes," Riley looked them up and down, "I think you need some too."

Six-Q just glared at Riley as they continued to be dragged away from campus. The guards watching the campus's gates barely batted an eye at them, sealing Six-Q's fate. They were stuck with Riley for the rest of the afternoon. They let the upper part of their body go slack and let their legs do all the hard work.

The town wasn't small per se, there was a considerable amount of people and even a large almost urban distract twenty minutes away from the college, but the main street in town gave off the coziest feeling. The old brick buildings had seen plenty of young, dumb students and they'd probably see many more. Children raced through the groups of adults to get into the nearby candy shop all while squealing in delight. Adults either sat on benches, happily chatting about the day, or popping out of stores carrying several bags full to the brim with clothes, jewelry, and other fancy new trinkets. Six-Q was so enamored by the bustling town life they didn't notice the looks people were giving both them and Riley. But Riley certainly did, as she death glared in the direction of anyone who dared look at the pair.

"C'mon, it's just down this block," Riley said, finally loosening her grip on Six-Q.

"But I need to get home, I have homework!" Six-Q pleaded.

It was a fruitless effort since Riley just shook her head. "You only live once, Q. You can't let things like homework and responsibility drag you down all the time."

"Is that why you needed to copy off all my notes and tests?"

"Silence those hands, mutey."

Six-Q silently celebrated their victory as the two turned the corner, nearly bumping into both a streetlamp and a couple. The man glared at them only to get flustered as Riley batted her eyelashes sweetly. As the couple disappeared around the corner, Six-Q heard the man's girlfriend chide him in a shrill voice. Riley seemed to get a kick out of that as she snorted loudly.

The sun was lazily setting behind a cluster of wispy clouds. Its glowing oranges and reds were shifting into blue and purple hues. Stores were having to turn on their lights to let passerby’s know they were still open. Six-Q felt a chilly breeze pass over them. They were left to wonder how Riley managed to stay warm while wearing only a crop top that showed her middle (which proudly held a shiny belly button ring) and jean shorts with tights under them. She wasn't even wearing socks.

Note to self: ask her if it's magic or simply not giving a darn!

"We're here!" Riley announced, jolting Six-Q back to their senses.

It was some type of shop dedicated to various popular clothing brands. Nike, Adidas, Levi's, Prada, and Lululemon were just some of the few brands that dressed the mannequins and shoe racks in the front window. Six-Q didn't even get a chance to look at the name before they were dragged into the store. A bell rang as the glass metal-framed door swung open.

"Oooh, Miranda~!" Riley called out in a singsong voice. "Guess who it is!"

A brunette woman wearing a black turtleneck stepped out into the open, hidden behind a rack of pants. She squealed in delight and rushed over to hug the equally excited Riley.

"Oh my stars, Riley, I haven't seen you in, like, forever!" the girl, Miranda said, after letting Riley go from their shared bear-hug. "What's happening in the life of the coolest witch I know."

"Ah, nothing much. Got kicked out of class today and my boyfriend fucking cheated on me." Riley said. Their voice was bitter at the end. Miranda gasped in surprise.

"Really? With who?"

"Sarah."

"Sarah McLaughlin?! Isn't she-"

"One of my exes, yep."

Miranda's eye grew to the size of dinner plates. "I can't believe it. And she was just in my store yesterday! I swear, if she comes back I'm going to give her a piece of my mind."

Riley casually waved her right hand, as if the brush away the idea. "Don't. A hussy like her doesn't deserve your time. Besides, it happened over a week ago. I'm over it."

Six-Q blinked. It was only two days ago Six-Q had to walk to Riley's duplex to comfort the drunken witch, who was having a complete emotional breakdown over the breakup. They didn't question how an underage girl like her even got two bottles of tequila (probably from one of her sketchy drinking buddies), just sat there in her bathroom rubbing circles on her back and holding her hair as Riley both sobbed and vomited into the toilet. They decided that they weren't going to embarrass her by sharing such a personal experience. Miranda's eyes trailed up to Six-Q. She ogled him for a few seconds before breaking out into a grin.

"Oh my, hello~. Are you the new boyfriend?"

Six-Q cringed. But because the idea of being romantically involved with Riley was a terrible thing, but the fact the clearly oblivious woman used the term "boyfriend".

Can I be gendered correctly for once?

Riley instantly came to their defense. "Actually, Six-Q uses they/them pronouns and they're nonbinary. Also, not my partner. They're too much of a softy to actually deal with my way of flirting."

Six-Q decided they also wouldn't mention the first time Riley and they met it was in Psychology 101 and Riley was trying to seduce them and get their notes. How they managed to become friends after that series of awkward events still confused them to this day.

Miranda's expression from joy to panic. "Oh my Gosh, I'm so so SO sorry! Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable? I'm the store owner so I can gift you some coupons or-"

Six-Q held up their hand and flashed a couple of signs at Riley.

"They said they're fine and that there is no need to worry." Riley noticed the confusion on Miranda's face. "They're mute so they communicate through ASL. They are actually the reason why I learned the language and why I continue to take psychology even though the professor is a piece of shit."

"Mute? Oh, what happen-" Miranda noticed the thread sewn through Six-Q's lips and immediately went quiet. An awkward silence filled the store until Riley spoke up.

"I actually got paid recently and wanted to get some cute new clothes. Got any recommendations?"

Miranda instantly brightened up. "Oh, yes. Here, I know a pair of jeans that would just look amazing on you!"

The store owner pulled the witch away, leaving Six-Q to explore the building on their own. It was a mix of rustic charm and contemporary with the front count and walls being made from real wood while the shelves, racks, and other exhibiting items were something akin to an IKEA display. The lights the dangled from the ceiling were rectangle, adding to the modern feel. The mannequins were posed in ways that felt almost too real for Six-Q. Instead of focusing on the lifeless figurines, Six-Q decided to browse the clearance aisle. They were light on cash so they were hoping to find something in their price range.

You'd have more money if you weren't a coward. A voice hissed in their head. Six-Q frowned but kept searching.

It wasn't their fault that they struggled to hold a job. When all the misgendering, stares, lack of translators, and just judgmental people got to them, Six-Q's automatic next move was to flee. Were they a coward? Yeah, probably. But they suffered through worse so if they were in desperate need of cash, Six-Q could probably ask their friends Rei and Trixie for a position at their job.

Would Marty even want someone like me as one of his... Dancers? Six-Q thought, shivering as he remembered the merman club owner's sharp gaze.

"Hey, Q! Find anything good?"

Six-Q found a pair of pants that were reasonably priced and held them up from Riley to see. She nodded her head, "Nice, dude."

The enby craned their neck to see what their friend had bought. It was several brightly colored shirts, hoodies, and pants, and shorts. If Six-Q could, they would've whistled in both amazement and the fact they were thoroughly impressed.

The Patreon gig must be seriously well.

"Will that be all for today?" Miranda asked in her friendliest customer service voice.

"Yep!" Riley said. Her friend nodded with a smile.

The two paid for their own clothing then stepped outside after saying their goodbyes. The sun had sunk a little lower, but there was still enough daylight where it couldn't be considered night yet. Riley pouted at Six-Q's single bag.

"You only got one thing?"

"I have to save money and I don't have that much anyway," Six-Q said.

"Well, I know some places you can get some nice and cheap clothes!" Riley had all the enthusiasm back in her voice.

"Wait, I-"

Riley silenced them by covering their hands with her own. She started to pull them down the street with an adventurous smile.

"C'mon, Q! While the sun still shines!"

Six-Q had a bad feeling growing in their gut that this would be a long night

-----

Six-Q stumbled out of what was hopefully the last store. Although several bags were in their grasp, most of them were not theirs. They had only purchased two other sets of pants and three graphic t-shirts plus a new makeup pallet, lip gloss, and eyeliner. Riley, however, acted like the old British Empire and sought to claim everything she had touched. From lipstick to perfume to clothes from the latest clothing trend, Riley decided to snatch up everything. Six-Q was worried that her card was going to get declined at some point, but that fear never came to fruition.

The pair started to make their way down the streetlight lit street. The sun had completely set and was replaced with an ethereal half-moon and twinkling stars. Six-Q gazed up worryingly at the sky. They stomped their feet on the ground to get Riley's attention. She looked up from her phone and Six-Q could see she was editing a selfie of herself.

"Yeah?" she said.

Six-Q tried to sign but the bags got in the way. Riley noticed and swiftly took some from them. The enby then asked. "It's late, Riley."

Riley shrugged. "It’s only 8:45. Don't tell me it's past your bedtime."

Six-Q frowned. "I need to finish some homework."

"You can do that later. Besides, aren't you hungry?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "I don't need to eat, remem-"

Riley grinned. "Great, because I'm starving! I know a cafe not too far from here! They have the best eclairs!"

Once again, the pair rushed off down the street. Six-Q's feet were beginning to hurt from all this running.

It can't possibly get anyway worse than this.

The cafe, as Riley promised, was not far at all as it was just around the corner. It was an unassuming little shop with it literally being a corner store. Riley was the first one inside leaving Six-Q to scramble behind her. The interior design wasn't something to rave home about. Common fake wood circular tables and chairs were stationed on one side of the cafe with the display case filled with all types of wonderful desserts and the cashier on the other. The cashier clearly was a young girl, probably sixteen at the most, and looked incredibly bored in her green apron and white shirt. It was the customers in front of the counter that got Six-Q concerned.

One was a brown-haired young man with brown hair and eyes who was digging through his wallet not paying attention to the people around him. He wore a dress shirt and pants along with a tie, clearly showing he was someone vaguely important. The man next to him worried Six-Q the most. It was a curly-haired ginger man whose hair basically covered his barely visible emerald green eyes. He wore a gaudy black shirt and black pants. A star with neon stripes coming off it was placed in the center of the shirt and had several multi-colored sparkles coming off it. Six-Q wanted to leave but Riley was the one to get the first words out. "Jesus fucking Christ why are you here?"

Both men turned around. The first one seemed surprised to see the blue-haired witch while the ginger one was both excited and mesmerized.

"Really? Is that the magnificent Riley and-" he screamed and pointed at Six-Q, "THE DEMON!"

Six-Q winced at the sudden noise while the well-dressed man groaned. "Tobias, please. We're in public."

"It’s Tobi and he's gonna hurt Riley!" Tobi whined, trying to put up a tough demeanor.

Six-Q wanted to snap. Can't someone gender me just this once?!

Riley was quick to snap back. "Please, don't even try that Alpha Male shit at me, Tobi. I've seen you cry for hours over that stupid robot show."

Tobi gasped loudly. "Star Pilots of Galactia is not stupid!"

"Also, the 80s called? They want their fucking rancid shit back." Riley continued.

"I'm on break from work, casually getting a donut with my cousin who just got off a shift from his lame job, and now I'm stuck between a seductress and a demon! Riley, you need to get away from him! He's dangerous!" Tobi cried, pointing at Six-Q. They could feel hot rage bubbling in their chest.

"It’s they, you waste of oxygen and witch talent!" Riley snarled, taking a step forward.

"You're a powerful and beautiful witch, my dear! Can't you feel his negativity?"

"I swear upon ALL the Gods if you compliment me or insult my friend again I'll snap your fucking neck."

"Oh yeah! Well, why don't I just summon some plants and-"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" a feminine voice shouted.

Six-Q, Riley, and Tobi turned to the cashier who nervously shook her head. Then they turned to the only other person in the room. The cousin looked completely stunned with his head hung low. His hand was clutched around his throat. Six-Q noticed his entire body was quivering. Tobi took a few steps forward, clearly considered. "Hey, Rowan, are you."

"Tobias, get in the car." He responded. His voice was ice cold.

"But-"

"Now!"

Tobi stammered for a bit then rushed out of the building. Rowan pulled out a twenty and slammed it on the table. "Keep the change." He didn't even look at Six-Q or Riley as he stepped out into the night. Six-Q felt a shiver run down his spine.

"C-Can I he-help you?" the cashier nervously asked.

"Yeah... Yeah, you can." Riley finally answered.

Riley ordered her Caffe mocha and some type of cake and éclair. Six-Q just followed them out of the store without saying anything. The two walked in silence for a long time. The streets were almost completely empty except for a few stragglers who were hanging around bars and small diners. Six-Q pulled out their phone pocket to check the time. 9:01. They exhaled out of their nose then tapped Riley on the shoulder. She must have been deep in thought because she jumped at the touch.

"Sorry." Six-Q apologized.

"I-Its fine just..." she sighed. "Look, I know Rowan more than you do. He's sensitive about his voice because he's... You know... Transitioning. Just, don't mention it to people, okay?"

Six-Q frowned. "Do you think that lowly of me?"

"Of course not!" Riley countered. "I just know how people are and... Listen, my relationship with Tobi and Tobi himself fucking sucks but I don't want Rowan to get in the crossfire, okay?"

The enby college student just nodded. They didn't want to get into Riley's messy relationship history any more than they had to.

"Listen, I think it's time I head home," Six-Q said, just wanting this night to end.

"Sure, sure. Hey, I'll walk with you to-" Riley then remembered who Six-Q shared an apartment with and scowled. "Never mind, I need to get home too."

Six-Q wasn't going to argue. They just handed over Riley's shopping bags, waved goodbye, then set out on their own.

The walk home took twenty minutes but Six-Q wasn't too concerned. The neighborhood they lived in was relatively safe with only a few minor incidents. They also weren't scared about being mugged. If they learned anything from growing up around people like Tobi they all feared Six-Q's unnatural eye color. They liked to imagine a scenario where someone tried to threaten them or their friends and all they had to do to become the hero is to flash their eyes like Medusa. They let out a happy snort. They barely had any muscle mass so fantasies like that one were the only way they could be strong.

You know that's not true, kid.

Quiet, you.

Six-Q finally made it to their old brick apartment and entered. They noticed the landlord was not tending to the front lobby area. They figured the elderly woman had to be asleep so just went over to the mail slots to see if they had mail. They opened their compartment and only a letter from a company they never heard of was there. Slowly, Six-Q crept up the creaky stairs while tearing open the letter. They climbed another flight then finally made it to their apartment. The moment they stepped in, Six-Q tossed the letter. It was talking about they owned money after the recent car wreck they got in. Six-Q didn't even own a car.

The décor in the apartment would've scared most people away. There was a giant picture of a naked woman that Six-Q’s roommate took plus several punk art pieces that showed violence and people flipping each other off. The skull of a deer hung over the blood-red couch. The flat-screen TV'S stand had chokers, knives, rings, gemstones, and other oddities scattered on the top and on the shelves. The item Six-Q was most proud of was the red rug with black skulls that laid beneath the coffee table was sewn by Six-Q themselves. Six-Q passed through the living room and ignored the mostly brown and white kitchen. Although most people would've been turned away by the vulgarity and creepiness, Six-Q and their roommate embraced it. Six-Q thought it was better than most scarcely decorated modern buildings.

Speaking of scarcely decorated, Six-Q entered their small, barely decorated bedroom. The twin-sized bed only had standard black sheets with a nearby bedside table only containing a lamp and a clock. The nearby desk in the corner only held notebooks, textbooks, a sewing machine, and a laptop; also a lamp rested on the top of the desk along with a box Six-Q knew that contained makeup. Six-Q got to work put their new clothes into their antique wardrobe and setting their backpack beside their bed. The rational part of the student knew they should start working on homework, but after all the running around and high emotions, Six-Q just wanted to nap.

They leapt onto their bed, only kicking off their shoes after they landed. They nestled under the covers and quickly fell asleep. However, it only felt like a few minutes before they heard muffled swearing and someone struggling to open the door. Six-Q knew it wasn't an intruder, just their roommate. Judging by how hard they were struggling, they must be had a bad night at the club.

I must tell them how much I wish I could have their patience.

After stretching and cracking their neck, Six-Q slid out of bed. They winced at how cold the floor was and left the room. They got excited when they heard the door finally open. They speed-walked down the hall, ready to greet one of their closest friends on roommates. Before they could, they immediately stop dead in their tracks.

Rei de la Mora, Six-Q's roommate, was wearing nothing but a red and gold sea-themed bikini that was twice below her size and a pair of red stilettos. As they hung up her coat, Six-Q watched in horror as one of the cups holding up her rather large breasts started to slip. Before anything else could happen, Six-Q started to slam their hand against the wall. Rei jumped, causing her chest to bounce but, luckily, the bikini continued to do its job. Six-Q was sweating uncontrollably. This entire situation felt wrong.

Rei, meanwhile, simply adjust the bikini top and bottom. Then, they casually raised up a hand. "Sup. How was your day."

That sent Six-Q throwing themselves back against the wall. Their spine painfully was the body part that first made contact, leading them to fall on their hands and knees. They heard Rei shout something, but they half scrambled, half crawled their way back to their room, and locked the door. Six-Q was panting heavily. While Six-Q respected Rei's work, it still felt wrong to see her like that. Then the knocking started.

"Goddamn it, Six, not again! You've seen me in much worse!"

Six-Q backed away from the door. Rei has both the power of a werewolf and natural body strength on her side. If she wanted, she could kick that door down.

Six-Q rushed over to their desk, ripped open a notebook, quickly wrote something down, then tore out the piece of paper. They slid it under the door and awaited Rei's response.

They heard Rei sigh. "For Christ's sake, Six, it's just a bikini. Besides, you're not a perv like all those other weirdos."

Once again, Six-Q wrote a note and slid it under the door. Once again, Rei sighed, "Fine, alright, I'll change. Happy?"

The enby student happily slid another piece of paper on the door. Six-Q listened the Rei's footsteps grow farther and farther away and sighed in relief. They remembered their homework needed to be completed. Six-Q went to work while they waited for their friend to change. It didn't take long as Rei didn't hesitate to start banging on their door.

"Come on out, purist. I'm decent."

Six-Q slipped their work back into the bag then slung it over their shoulder. They opened the door and saw Rei wearing a tight-fitting punk band t-shirt and black sweatpants.

"Better, Lord of Woman's Purity," Rei smirked.

"It's not like that," Six-Q explained. "I just feel like… We shouldn't be that open with each other yet."

"You act like we're dating and, I should remind you, I'm a lesbian." Rei ruffled Six-Q's hair. "Hey, you promised we'd watch To Catch A Killer together. And don't use homework as an excuse, you can do it while we watch."

Rei didn't drag Six-Q into the living room but had the authoritative aura to make Six-Q follow anyway. The two sat on the couch, Six-Q sitting cross-legged while answering the question of how the brain's thoughts influence feelings and how do people interpret other feelings and emotions and the social cues that follow and Rei with her feet on the coffee table. The pair were quiet for the most part, only the TV and Six-Q's light pencil scratching. It was Rei who finally spoke up.

"So, you didn't come back after school. What happened?"

Six-Q set their pencil down. Riley and Rei were the definitions of bitter exes, they needed to be careful not to mention her name. "I decided to go shopping. Got some new pants and shirts plus some new makeup. You can help me practice eyeliner like we've been talking about.".

Rei didn't stop the TV, just gave their roommate a sideways glance. "You went shopping?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "Is that a problem?"

"Six, I was the one that had to convince you to buy new clothes. Twice. You suddenly decided to go on an hours-long shopping trip by yourself is… Weird."

"Well, I finally took your words to heart and-"

"It was Riley, wasn't it?" Rei interrupted.

Six-Q flinched as if they were just slapped. Rei's voice was cold, just like Rowan's was. Oh God, they were going to have to explain what happened at the café. Six-Q started to explain but Rei raised their hand.

"No, it's fine. It's alright. I don't care," Rei said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself then talk to Six-Q. "So, anything… Big happen."

Six-Q explained to Rei what happened at the café, excluding the part about Rowan. She ground her teeth together in a snarl. "Goddamn it, Six, why don't you let me kick that stoner's ass."

"Because you'll get arrested and fired," Six-Q replied.

"Nah, Marty and Hydna would bail me out and Marty can't fire me. I'm his dancer because of these-" she flexed her muscles, "-and these." She lifted her breasts with her hands. Six-Q nearly fell off the couch in shock. Rei grabbed them just before they fell. "Will you calm down, you big baby."

The two shared a smile before Rei frowned. "Can I share something with you, Six?"

Six-Q nodded, giving Rei the okay to speak. "I know you like Riley and that she is one of your closest friends, but you saw how she treated me and you see how she treats others." Rei rested a hand on their friend's shoulder. "Just… Be careful, okay?"

Six-Q nodded once again. Rei held her gaze for a few moments then let her hand fall to their side. "Finish your homework. I don't want you failing college."

The two sat in silence, watching Mike Arntfield solve cold cases and catch the bad guy, all while Rei's words rang through Six-Q's head.

I'm always careful

Yeah, right

I wasn't talking to you and I don't want to talk to you.

Six-Q's head was silent and that worried them.

#oc #ocs #original characters #original content #original story #transphobia tw #misgendering tw #transgender #lgbtqiia+

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fish-of-aquaza · 4 years ago

Text

~~Okay so, hi, I'm new here, in tumblr... and, I... just got into self shipping half a year ago... aaand only have platonic and familial ships.. and you can call me-

Karkat: YOU CAN CALL HIM OCTO, OGILVY, BIIO, JR, TROY, ANIS ETC ETC, THIS DUDE HAVE SO MANY F#CKING SELF INSERTS THAT IT'S RIDICULOUS!

me: ~~J...Just call me any of these, I will clarify which name is which fandom, and-

K: ANYWAYS, HE HAVE A FCKING LIST OF F/OS HE'S ABOUT TO READ OUT IF HE FINNALY STOPPED THE POINTLESS TALKING

Me: ~~Dude, what da heck?! Stop interrupting me!

K:YOU SAID THAT YOU NEED SOMEONE WHEN YOU DO THIS, BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO BIG OF A DAMM P#SSY TO DO IT ALONE!

YOU TOLD ME, THAT IT WILL ONLY TAKE A FEW MINUTES, BUT YOU'RE BEING SO GOG DAMM SLOW, I CAN'T STAND IT!

Me:~~...

-sigh-

~~Okay, I'll just read it out then.

~~So, first of all, of course as you could tell, Homestuck. I have Eridan, Terezi, Tavros, and of course you could tell, this rage nugget next to me called Karkat.

K:CAN YOU PLEASE, DON'T CALL ME THAT?!

Me: ~~yeah, sorry. -giggle-

~~And I'm still reading homestuck, so there might be more f/os

Karkat:YEAH, YOU'RE STILL ONLY AT THE ACT 5, YOU SHOULD GET YOUR LAZY ASS TOGETHER AND ACTUALLY BE PRODUCTIVE FOR AT LEAST A F*CKING MONTH

Me: ~~you think that I wouldn't if I could? I procrastinate too many things qwq

K: YEAH, EVEN THIS INTRODUCTION! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN "WORKING ON IT"??? MONTHS??

Me: ~~well.. I have been procrastinating it a lot.. But can I continue? I'm finally doing it..

K:YEAH! SURE! JUST GET OVER IT ALREADY!

Me: ~~So, the next fandom is The Owl House. Let's see...We have Amity(familial/sister, she deserves better siblings)..... Gus...., Hooty-

K: THE DOOR THINGY?

Me: ~~yeah? Why did you ask?

K: I HONESTLY THINK THAT THEY JUST NEED SOMEONE THEY CAN LISTEN TO, A GOOD LEADER IN PARTICULAR, WHO ACTUALLY LISTEN TO THEIR BORING STORIES AND STUFF

Me: ~~well, I would say it differently, but yeah, it's basically what i think. Anyways, the last thing remaining is the Slitherbeast.

K: THAT GIANT ALIEN YETI, RIGHT?

Me: ~~yeah?

K:THAT THING GIVES ME THE CHILL, THEY HAVE THEIR EYES IN THEIR F*CKING MOUTH!!

Me: ~~well yeah, but they are still pretty cool

~~Let's move on, the next one is Danganronpa. We have:

~~Gundham Tanaka

~~K1-B0 (kiibo/keebo)

~~Leon Kuwata

~~Monodam

~~Chiaki Nanami *

~~Koichi Kizakura (familial/dad)

~~Possibly will be more, I'm still watching the walkthroughs and stuff-

K: WAIT A SECOND!

ME: ~~Hm?

K: WHAT IS THAT LITTLE STAR NEXT TO THE NANAMI GUY'S NAME?

Me: ~~okay, first of all, that's a girl, second.. It's just a... A marking, a marking because she's my favourite woman f/o

K: BUT THERE IS NO OTHER MARK FOR A GUY.

Me: ~~Oh! Oh yeah.. I.. I forgot! Let me just -scribbles a star next to his name-

~~Here! Done ^^

K: DUDE, I AM FLATTERED BY THIS, BUT WE BOTH KNOW THAT PRETTY F#CKING WELL, THAT I AM NOT YOUR FAVORITE.

BUT OKAY, I'LL LET IT SLIDE.

SEE? I'M SUCH A GREAT LEADER THAT I LET YOU PERSONAL SPACE, YOU'RE VERY F#CKING WELCOME.

Me: thanks...

~~So anyways, next on the list is: No Straight Roads, AKA NSR We have Neon J-

Karkat: NEON J? IS THIS SOME KIND OF RAPPER OR SOME SH*T? THIS NAME SOUNDS SO LAME I THOUGHT THAT YOU BEFRIENDED A F#CKING LETTER J NIGHT PUB SIGN WHEN I FIRST SAW IT.

Me: ~~No, his name literally means 1010, the name of the boy band he created

Karkat: EXCUSE ME? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?

Me: ~~Neon is the 10th element of the periodic table and J is the 10th letter of the alphabet.

Karkat:THAT'S... ACTUALLY CLEVER.

Me: ~~It is. Can I continue now?

Karkat:YES, AS YOUR LEADER I LET YOU TO CONTINUE READING THIS ENDLESS LIST YOU HAVE CREATED TO INTRODUCE YOURSELF.

Me: ~~It wouldn't take so long if you wouldn't keep interrupting me.. -_-

~~So yeah, he is familial, dad figure. the rest is 1010, and Yinu along with her mother

~~There are only a few fandoms left, I'll be quick.

~~Mha:

~~Tokoyami, I loved his appearance since their first training, he's the coolest and strongest when he's in beast mode (in my opinion of course).

~~Coraline:

~~Other dad, he's a familial, as a dad of course

K: HE WAS TRYING TO SAVE CORALINE, RIGHT?

Me: ~~He deserved better...

~~And, the last fandom,

~~Epithet Erased:

~~Zora Salazar(Familial/Aunt)-

K: DOESN'T SHE STINKS BECAUSE SHE SLEEPS IN THE WOODS OR WHAT?

Me: ~~Yes she does my self insert keep teasing her about it.

~~And the last one, Ramsey. I like his style, pretty much a loveable character, i wanna be his friend.

~~And, as a last thing-

K: YOU SAID THAT WE ARE DONE!

K: I DON'T CARE, I NEED TO GO! I HAD F*CKING ENOUGH?! I'M OUT! -walks away-

Me:~~...

~~Ookay... Soo..

~~I just... wanted to mention that... I'm the brother of (@fishy-moirails), and we have shared f/os, and sibling self inserts in most of the fandoms that I have mentioned...

~~Soo.. Yeah..uhm..I will... update later.. Bye! -runs away-

#self insert #self ship #self shipping #self shipping community #self ship promo #introduction #self ship intro #self shipping content #f/o gush #Karkat #karkat vantas #homestuck #self shipping promo #self ship event #self shipper #self ship drawing #I swear i can draw better #I finnaly started it TwT

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baepsaetan · 4 years ago

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Banner by @thebannershop

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 7 -> read on Ao3

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 7.1k

Before he’s even aware of the sound of the shot – maybe even before the sound is made – Jin is flying. Almost literally. Someone hip checks him so hard that his feet, not firmly planted to begin with, leave the ground, and as he falls, he crashes into Namjoon, sending them both sprawling off the sidewalk. They land in the road in a tangle of limbs, groans and (in Namjoon’s case) curses. Several more shots ring out, Jin’s brain too slow on the uptake to do anything more than cringe and sort of hug the ground, expecting to feel the impact of a bullet at any second.

Jungkook is not so slow.

After he’d shoved Seokjin out of the way, he’d drawn his own weapon and started firing at the woman, as well as several other people who’ve swarmed out from the cars they’d hidden behind. Now, as Seokjin clings for dear life to the pavement, blood thundering in his ears and eyes wildly scouring the street, he finds his mouth falling open. Two bodies have already joined Namjoon and Jin on the pavement, slumped figures that move only feebly, and even as Jin lifts his head a bit more, Jungkook finds another mark and she joins her companions on the ground, clutching at her shoulder. Jin thinks she might be screaming – her mouth is open – but all he can hear is his own stampeding heartbeat and an occasional popping noise that must be the guns firing.

It adds to the air of unrealism, but Jungkook is the main focus of this nightmare. So fast his hands blur, he changes out a cartridge and keeps shooting, seamless and assured. He’s already moved to set himself between Namjoon and the attackers, though the position isn’t as deadly as it would have been even a few seconds prior. Jungkook’s rapid and accurate aim has forced their enemies to take cover behind cars, abandoning their three comrades where they fell. The trio don’t last long; with cool precision, Jungkook takes an extra moment and shoots all three in the heads before resuming firing at anyone who dares to show any part of their body from behind their shields.

He had suspected Jungkook was harboring neurochems and some variety of physical enhancements – he just moved too fluidly to be entirely natural – but the unadulterated violence of the other man has Jin transfixed and shaking. There’s blood on the ground by the bodies, blood and – other things – and a part of him is trying to remember that it’s sleeves – just sleeves – that were destroyed so casually. That part is dim and very far away. Was this how his own murderer had killed him, as easily as tapping a button, and with as much concern?

The violence drops to a simmer as quickly as it flared up, the flurry of bullets slowing, and Jin’s hearing returns only when Namjoon grabs him by both shoulders and shakes him. “Seokjin! Snap out of it! Damn it, can you hear me?”

He takes in the other’s excruciatingly tense expression with a befuddled stare, and his eyes widen when he realizes they’re not in the center of the street anymore but huddled against a vehicle. Namjoon must have dragged him here, but he hadn’t even… With a tremendous effort, Seokjin shakes his head, chasing away the fogged paralyses wrapping his appendages and brain in cotton, unsure what to feel about Namjoon risking life and limb to get him to the shelter. “Yeah,” he gasps, “yeah, I hear you. What do we do?”

“Keep your head low. You see that dumpster?” Namjoon uses the hand not holding his own gun to point out a green behemoth of a dumpster a few meters behind them, set at the mouth of an alley between two of the industrial buildings. “Get behind it.”

“Namjoon, there’s someone going around the cars on the far side,” Jungkook calls, his warning followed closely by two quick bangs as he fires at whoever it is. “I can’t get them, not with those assholes still up the street.”

It takes a moment to understand what Jungkook means, though Jin gets it eventually. If he turns to follow the movement of the person darting along the side, the assailants in front will have time to get out of cover and shoot; it’s only Jungkook’s constant vigilance that’s keeping them pinned down.

Appallingly steady, like they’re just having a normal conversation, Namjoon replies, “I’ve got him. I’ll – Seokjin, get behind that dumpster before you get yourself killed. I’ll cover you, Jungkook.”

Doing as he’s bid takes a courage all its own; moving from even this pitiful shelter feels like inviting a spotlight to fall on him, with a ‘shoot me’ sign put up for good measure. But Jin can’t just sit there. Who knew what would happen if he got killed again? Best case scenario, his stack would be ransomed back to his parents, but that’s a very best case, and besides, his parents hadn’t put him back in a sleeve the first time, had they? What if it’s the same the next time around? The best case wouldn’t really be best case then, would it?

Better to stick with the pink haired devil he knows.

Clenching his teeth, he psyches himself up for a heartbeat more before flinging himself into a running crouch. Almost immediately several gunshots ring out and Jin is pretty sure he’s not imagining the crack of bullets whipping by. As he tumbles behind the protection of the metal bulk, he definitely doesn’t imagine the chorus of voices shouting, “It’s him, he’s there!” Even more bullets come his way – one hits into the dumpster with a tortured scream of metal – but Jungkook makes the shooters pay for the attempt if a pained yell is anything to go by.

Did that mean these psychopaths were trying to get him specifically? And was ‘him’ Seokjin, or were they after Siwoo for some reason? And how’d they know who he was, where they would be? Could that girl from the club have told someone, not anywhere near as fooled as he’d thought she’d been? Gasping for breath, his back pressed into the reassuring hardness of the dumpster, Jin can’t get his scattered thoughts together enough to figure out what any of it means. Not being able to see what’s going on just fuels his hammering heart, but he’s not stupid enough to think that sticking his head out is a good idea.

Except for the person still screaming in pain, it’s gone very quiet.

Had Namjoon already shot the person trying to flank them? Or had he been shot himself? Could that be why he and Jungkook aren’t talking to each other? What if Namjoon’s dead?

The thought sets him to trembling, violent shudders that wrack his body for a reason he’s not anywhere near calm enough to identify. No matter how fast or hard he blinks, Seokjin can’t seem to clear away the picture of rivulets of red streaming from the heads of those people Jungkook killed. He can’t stop himself from imagining Namjoon in exactly the same position, slumped over, hair tinged a colour far less innocent than peach, the exit wound a gaping hole that’s there because Seokjin couldn’t move fast enough.

An unfamiliar voice rips through the macabre picture, tearing Jin’s focus back to reality. “You fuckers are fucking dead, you hear me? Fucking dead!”

“Not as dead as your friends,” Jungkook yells back, and Seokjin can almost picture the maddening grin he’s probably wearing. It helps, too, because he instinctively knows the boy wouldn’t say something like that if Namjoon had been shot.

His intuition proves correct. Namjoon joins the yelling contest a moment later, louder than the string of swears Jungkook’s comment elicited. “You’ve already lost too many people, whoever the hell you are. Why don’t you just walk away? It’s not gonna get any easier from here.”

There’s a pause, and stupid or not, Jin can’t bear the laden tension anymore. He peeks around the dumpster. It takes him a while to locate everyone. The few pedestrians who he could have sworn were around before have up and vanished. Namjoon and Jungkook have moved closer to his hiding spot, Jungkook on his side of the street, Namjoon on the other. From this angle he can just make out a few people, muffled under hoodies, crouched on the sidewalk. If he’d had a gun, he might have been able to pick one or two of them off (but probably not). It’s impossible to tell how many there are. And unless he’s very much mistaken, they’re on both sides of the streets now, using the cars as cover to creep closer.

The closest one, just a few cars from where Namjoon is crouched, trusts the vehicle’s protective abilities too much. He moves away from the front area of the car he’s cowering behind, probably intending to move one more car down, and Jin sees Junkook’s head snap to the movement. A second later and the gun follows, sending five or six bullets across the street to shred through the vehicle’s doors. At least one finds its target, because there’s a sharp yelp and the man collapses, writhing on the sidewalk.

It’d be easy for Namjoon or Jungkook to take him out. Seemingly following that train of thought, the former shifts, about to lean around the car he’s behind.

The same voice from before makes him pause. “Hold up! You’re right it ain’t gonna get easier, but that’s for you, not us. We got all fucking day to drown you assholes out.” A beat. “But maybe we don’t wanna go to the bother of getting new sleeves. Maybe we’re feeling generous. I got a deal for you. You give us Seokjin, and you walk away. Don’t, and I’m going to crush your fucking stacks myself. We know he was at the Ring, that he’s with you now. You really feel like facing Real Death for some prick of a Meth?”

Jungkook looks towards Namjoon, just a twitch of distraction, and his leader doesn’t immediately reply. He’s facing Jin’s hiding spot, eyes slightly narrowed, and Seokjin can only stare at him helplessly, heart in his throat. He doesn’t have a weapon, nothing to defend himself with, no bargaining chip to offer. Namjoon’s goodwill – and, realistically, Seokjin’s usefulness to Namjoon’s group – are his only shields, flimsy though they are. And they are flimsy. First the failure to find anything useful at the Ring, and then, what had Namjoon said? I’m not risking my crew for a Meth…

Right. So, he’s screwed.

“We can’t give him up.” Given that the hissed objection comes from Jungkook, Jin could not have been more surprised if God Himself had spoken from Heaven. Even Namjoon looks taken aback. The muscular gunman shifts his weight restlessly, eyes never leaving their scanning track across the road. “We can’t just let them beat on us like this,” he adds, not able to whisper because of Namjoon’s distance, but attempting to keep his voice low, nonetheless. “They’ll expect us to roll over like dogs all the time.”

He sounds disgusted at the prospect of losing, and for all that Jin feels a sudden rush of warmth towards the kid, he can’t help but think that competitiveness isn’t going to be enough to persuade Namjoon. A moment later, though, gaze still skimming the street, Jungkook says flatly, “Besides, they just sent a few people down the side streets further down. They’re probably gonna go around the block and come up behind us.”

Automatically Jin turns, checking their backs; the street is utterly deserted, for the moment. It makes him wonder, fleetingly, where the few civilians he’d seen before have gone (hopefully to call the police), but Namjoon pulls his attention back.

“He’s stalling, huh? I guess it was too much to expect this trash to be honest.” Namjoon shifts, pulls his green camo coat open and seems to be searching for something. “I’ve got two magazines left. You?”

“One.”

Namjoon tosses one of his black cases to Jungkook, who catches it deftly. The pink haired man is wearing a strange expression; he’s smiling, a thin, lopsided quirk of his lips, but when his gaze goes to Jungkook, his eyes are wretched. The sharp regret doesn’t change when they shift briefly to Jin, though Jin had been expecting rage, or at the least accusation. Maybe that wouldn’t have been fair – it’s not like he chose to be here, or at the Ring – but it wouldn’t have been surprising. However, when their eyes meet, Namjoon’s bloodless face suddenly flushes a bit, and he mouths something that Seokjin can’t catch from so far away.

It might have been sorry, but probably not.

Probably not, but Jin still finds himself saying, “I’ll watch your backs. If someone comes, you’ll know.”

He can only shrug at their surprise. At this point, he’s pretty sure that their funeral is going to be his funeral, too. Might as well do what he can. Besides, if they can hold out long enough… “Maybe the police are on their way.”

That’s more to himself than to Jungkook, but the other male shakes his head anyways. “Or maybe those assholes asked their Meth friends to call in a favour, and there are no cops around at all.”

“…You never learned about the power of positive thinking, did you?”

“Sorry, sir. They only teach that in Meth kindergarten,” Jungkook replies, smiling faintly. After a moment, though, even that falls away, like he’s lost the strength to keep it there. Quietly, so quietly Jin knows he’s not really meant to hear, Jungkook mumbles, “Wish Yoongi were here. Guess it’s good he’s not.”

For whatever reason, that makes the young man straighten a little, his shoulders squaring, and he calls to Namjoon. “I’m ready, hyung. Guess now’s as good a time as any to make up for that car thing.”

The leader, too, has stiffened his resolve. “You’ve got nothing to make up for, Jungkook. Even if you did, that tab’s going to stay open for a bit longer. We’re going to get out of here.” He even manages to make it sound like he believes it.

“Yeah, hyung, sure… I think they’re getting ready to rush us. Guess they figured out we’re not buying.” Jungkook’s voice is as steady as his hands, unshaking as they raise his pistol a little higher.

The both of them, ducked behind their respective vehicles, somehow manage to make it seem like they’re waiting for a boring game of hide-and-seek to end, not staring down a barrel pointed unerringly at their stacks. Seokjin turns back to fulfill his part of this little pageant, squinting down the street and ready to shout, yet his shoulders are trembling and pressing them hard against the dumpster can only do so much to still them. His eyes are welling with tears, too, and angrily Jin brushes them clear. He’s not even that afraid, because he’s pretty much used up his fear and adrenaline for today. But it’s a real pity to die for the second time in a week, beneath this ugly grey sky, along with two strangers who may or may not deserve it for kidnapping him. He wants to be angry at them for dragging him into this, but the blunt knives buried in his chest are made of grief and not rage.

Jin’s just so tired; spitting fury into the void he’s facing is too much effort. I hope Taehyung doesn’t hear about me dying again, he thinks dully. Taehyung is probably the only one in his life who would bother mourning him twice. His family would certainly have done so the first time, sincere in their sorrow, but emotion is just as much a resource as anything. They’d be too practical to grieve a second time, at least with the same depth.

There’s a flicker of movement far, far down the street where Seokjin’s facing. “Someone’s–” He stops, has to cough several times to dislodge the hoarseness in his throat, “Someone’s coming.” Now more than ever, he wishes he had a gun, or a knife, or anything, really. Not that it would make a difference – Seokjin’s not one of the children his parents take to the shooting range, not after the first few mediocre showings – but it would be nice to have something. Just so that he could pretend for a little longer that he has a chance, that maybe he could help the men preparing to die for him have a chance, too.

The figure is moving closer, pretty much in the middle of the street, as bold as you please, and Jin just guesses they’re that confident in their fellow gang members. Personally, he wouldn’t be, not after the show Jungkook had put on, but maybe these thugs just didn’t care if their sleeves got killed. If some Meth were going to give him a new body after he died, maybe he wouldn’t care either. Although…

His eyes narrow. The person approaching from his side is weaving. Not in the better-dart-around-to-make-it-harder-to-shoot-me manner, but in the stumbling-drunk-and-finding-it-hard-to-walk kind of way. He tips first to one side, then to the other, feet dragging and catching on the pavement, and it seems miraculous that he doesn’t drop each time. And actually… hadn’t he come from too many streets down? Wouldn’t the gangsters have cut through a road that was closer, so they didn’t have to be in the open for so long? And why hasn’t Jungkook shot this sucker yet?

At about the same time all of those questions are falling into a startled realization, three more people appear in Jin’s field of vision, closer than the other man. They’re definitely part of the attackers; they’re wearing the same hoodies and face masks, and they’re utterly intent on Jin’s side of the street. He doesn’t even think they see the other guy, and if they do, they ignore him and start inching down the road. Part of him wants to run, maybe down the alley on his left side, even if it just leads to a dead end. That would make it that much easier for their assailants to focus solely on taking out Namjoon and Jungkook, though. The least he can do is offer another target to distract their focus and their bullets.

He might not offer even that for long. One of the three is gesturing excitedly, clearly having realized who he is, and a second later the others raise their guns. Jin can’t help it. He shuts his eyes, throat clogged with the warning he should be giving, and braces himself, an eerie feeling of déjà vu resounding through his very marrow, deep and sickening.

And he waits. And waits. And later – he couldn’t have said how much later – three shots ring out. Just three. None of them sound anywhere close to him.

When Jin opens his eyes, he’s greeted by three bodies on the road and the same man from before walking by them. There’s panicked shouting going on behind his dumpster, further down the street, so much shouting that even though he thinks Namjoon and Jungkook are talking, he can’t tell what they’re saying. A series of sharp reports crack the tension like a bone breaking, and suddenly the air is filled with the staccato noise of gunfire. The man approaching him doesn’t seem bothered. He doesn’t even pause, just keeps walking, and there’s still some of that staggering gait in his movements, like he’s forgotten how to take steps and has to remember each time.

This close, the black police uniform is starkly obvious, and so is the blueish grey revolver the man has clasped loosely at his side. There’s nothing personal about the relief Seokjin feels – nothing like the comfort he’d experienced upon seeing Taehyung – but the searing release of pressure is utterly welcome, all the same. His first thought is perilously close to thanking God, even though he’s never been very interested in his parents’ religion.

His second thought is about how funny Jungkook’s face is going to be when he realizes there was at least one cop around.

The police officer finally makes it to him, although he doesn’t pause for long. He’s a wiry individual with a sweep of black bangs that almost touch his eyes, but it’s his smile that’s most eye catching. His grin is one of the largest and most cheerful things that Jin has ever seen, a sunny beam set with casual brilliance on the man’s heart shaped face, and in another situation, it also would have been one of the most uplifting things he’s ever seen, too.

Given that they are currently being shot at (did Jin see a bullet fling by the cop’s head or was he imagining things?) the grin is kind of scary. So is the look in the guy’s eyes, painfully bright and intent, like an operating table light. It’s a stark contrast to his smile.

“Please stay down,” the officer says, the words leaping extremely quickly from his mouth, and it kind of seems like he’s not really seeing Jin. “This will be over shortly.” Another screech as a bullet grazes the dumpster underlines his assertion.

He moves out of view, and more bangs assault Jin’s ringing ears. This time around, his courage and curiosity both fail him; he stays firmly put, refusing the urge to peek out from his cover. Besides, before much time has passed, he can hear Jungkook swearing, but it’s soft amazement and not anger that’s saturating his voice. The shots dwindle until there’s only one or two going off every few seconds, and moments later even that dies.

“They’re gone, Kwanghyun. You can come out.” That’s Namjoon, but Jin stays where he is, his brows furrowing. Who was Kwanghyun? The police officer?

Namjoon’s shadow falls over him and Jin looks up with a small, relieved smile. The other man’s face is just as drained of colour as before, and there’s a line of tension in his jaw that’s entirely inappropriate given that none of them died. “They’re gone, Kwanghyun,” Namjoon repeats, putting extra emphasis on the name. “Get up.”

Jin stares at him blankly for a moment before his brain catches up. His tentative smile dies. Oh. Right. He can’t be Seokjin in front of an officer. Seokjin was taken from his safe haven at the police station by Namjoon and the rest of his crew.

Embarrassed by how slow he was on the uptake, embarrassed by the tight knot of disappointment in his throat, Jin drops his gaze and starts to rise. Without him being aware of it, his legs have gone numb from his awkward positioning, and it’s a struggle to straighten with his knees threatening to buckle. Suddenly Namjoon hooks a hand under Jin’s elbow and helps him up. His hand remains there, and Seokjin unexpectedly finds himself desperate to believe that the warm support is just out of kindness.

Given the tightness of the hold, however, and the way Namjoon hasn’t put his weapon away, he can’t quite push himself into embracing the achingly appealing fantasy.

They walk out from behind the dumpster, Jin moving like a tottering old man. This sleeve is in shape, but even it can’t quite handle being compressed into a terror-induced crouch for such a long period of time. As the pins and needles jab at his legs, injecting feeling back in the most painful way possible, Jin lets his capturer tow him along. Once again, he’s faced with a question of what to do, and if anything, it’s harder to decide now than it was back at Ringwanderung.

There are bodies scattered across the street, for all the world looking like toys knocked over by some overenthusiastic toddler. None are moving, and the holes ripped into their heads or chests or throats are more than enough evidence for why. He finds himself having to breathe between his teeth and it’s a struggle to tear his gaze away from the bloody scene.

The police officer is speaking into his interface watch as they approach. “Yeah, I count fourteen – fourteen sleeves down. Don’t think any stacks are damaged. Yeah, fourteen. Yeah, I – it’s fourteen, you can all count that high. Make sure – you have to bring Organic Damage with you. I want – what? No, I didn’t get them all myself. Even my sleeve’s not that good.” He laughs, and the sound is… off. Hoarse and too fast. “Anyways, anyways, several ran off, so you need to get patrols down here… I don’t know why there aren’t any around now, it’s a bloody clusterfuck. I want Jaemin prepped to help one of you in interrogation. No, no, I’m not going to do it. I’m not – I’m off the clock, Tanesha, I’m not…”

More is said, but Jin’s having trouble focusing. Namjoon’s grip on his arm is too tight, starting to pass from pain into numbness, as though the sensation just traded its spot from his legs. He’s watching his captors from the corner of his eyes, just about as intensely as they’re watching both him and the cop. It’s dawning on him that this officer saving their lives doesn’t mean the same thing for them as it does for him. Jungkook’s gnawing at his lip, looking less composed now than when there’d been bullets flying, and while Namjoon is more collected, he’s not much more so.

He can’t tell what they’re thinking. Jin doesn’t know if he should care. What would happen if he just blurted out the truth, right here and now? To judge by the gangsters’ reactions and the numerous out of commission sleeves, this man can handle himself. Far better than Taehyung could, anyways. And he’s a police officer! His very life is supposed to be dedicated to protecting people. Wouldn’t he be far better equipped to handle this mess than Jin, too? There’s an overwhelming urge to just dump the situation into his lap, just to see what happens, just to relieve the tension.

Only… He’d saved Jin’s life already, there’s no doubt about that. And while he seems utterly relaxed, his gun slipped into its holster, both Namjoon and Jungkook are so on edge they look like they might just shoot the guy without Jin saying anything at all. What kind of payment would that be, setting them off on his saviour? And just after he’d almost done the same thing to Taehyung?

The officer finishes his conversation rather abruptly; if Seokjin didn’t know better, he might have thought he’d hung up on whoever he was talking to. This close up, he doesn’t look great. His face is shiny with sweat, black hair plastered to his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes are so prominent his irises look about as black as his hair. The smile from before, unusual as it had been, is gone, replaced by a sharp, triangular frown.

That just makes Jin feel worse about the thought of bringing him into this situation. And as bad as he feels, he still needs to bite his tongue to keep it from going rogue and voicing a desperate attempt at escape. If he was smarter, or maybe just less tired, he might have tried to think of some coded way of asking for help, a secret phrase or a special look, but casting through his head right now is like scavenging through a swamp. There’s plenty of things there, half-formed and half-seen and covered in slick mud, but nothing Seokjin can get a confident grip on.

Besides, Jimin implied that some if not all of the police are in the pay of whatever Meth set his murder up. How can he tell if this man is one of those? Should he just blindly run to a person who could sign his Real Death warrant?

Indecision is a poison, slinking through his veins, paralyzing his muscles and tongue. In the end, Jin elects to do nothing – not because it seems like the best thing to do, but because doing anything else is more nerve-wracking than he presently has the strength to bear.

“Sorry about that,” the officer says, finally turning to them, and once again Jin has the impression that he’s not really looking at them. Or maybe that he’s only seeing exactly what he wants to see. “Ah, first, I need to ask… to…” He stops, confusion passing like a cloud over his expression. “I… can’t remember…” he mutters, and as he says it one of his legs suddenly spasms, a series of twitches and jerks that he doesn’t seem to notice.

Before it fully passes, the cop’s uncertainty evaporates, and his eyes are abruptly keen again, too sharp, almost sterile. “I’m Jung Hoseok, of the Thorton precinct.” Thorton, the official name for the Curve that no one ever uses except on paper. Jin is faintly surprised that this hellhole even has a precinct.

“Officer,” Namjoon replies, and at least he’s working on erasing the hostility from his face; Jungkook’s still got his chin belligerently lifted, and if Jin didn’t know better, he’d say the young man is a bit afraid. Jungkook lets Namjoon take the lead, though. “I’m Kim Doyoon. This is Jung Minjae… and he’s Lee Kwanghyun.” He says the list smoothly, and either he’s really good at making things up on the spot, or he’s got a few names memorized already.

From what he knows about Namjoon’s deliberate personality, probably the latter, but neither is bulletproof. What if the officer asks to scan their IDs?

He doesn’t, which seems very strange to Jin, but then again, this guy’s been acting strangely from the minute he showed up. Instead, the man says, “Right. Can I assume you’ve got registrations for your weapons?” and Jin’s heart stutters a little.

Needlessly so, apparently. Still calm, Namjoon nods, even goes so far as to proffer his gun. After a moment of hesitation, Jungkook follows suit. Hoseok uses his interface to swipe both of them, but the look he casts at the information screen that shows up in response is uninterested, even aimless. He keeps pulling and scratching at his black uniform, rocking on his heels, and every once in awhile the odd tremors repeat themselves in his hands, his legs, his shoulders. Seokjin can’t help but stare. He’s seen plenty of people under the influence of various substances, but he’s never seen anyone – least of all a cop – act like this.

Either oblivious to their looks or choosing to ignore them, Hoseok wanders over to the closest body, one of the first Jungkook took down, and nudges it with a booted foot. “I recognize a few of them,” he declares, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “They’re part of that group that’s been causing so much trouble down here, yeah?” He doesn’t seem to be expecting an answer. “At least that’s a dozen of the – it was a dozen, right? No. More than a dozen off the street. Maybe we can finally focus on some more important issues.”

Like the stolen stack of a Meth? Jin wonders.

As though one of them said something – although they haven’t, and Jungkook might even have stopped breathing – the officer’s eyes snap towards the trio. “Why’d they come after you? They’re not – seems like too many people.”

Once again, Namjoon’s left to field the question. Not that Seokjin has any choice in the matter. “Dunno. We were at the Ring before, having some fun, and this one,” he jerks his thumb at Jin, “mentioned how we’d won at the games downstairs. Maybe they overheard and wanted to take the creds we won?”

Hoseok’s overly alert gaze focuses on Jin, who’s doing his best to look repentant and not indignant about being given the blame. “Is that why he looks like he’s about to be sick? You guys get into some hard stuff while you were there?” He doesn’t appear to care about the legality of that, one way or another. Minor drug usage is probably pretty low on the list of things this precinct needs to deal with.

“No,” Namjoon replies. “I think that’s the whole being shot at thing.” As it happens, he’s right.

“Oh… right. I forgot most people don’t…” Almost get killed every day, he probably means to say, but trails off. “You handled yourself well,” Hoseok continues into the awkward pause, turning to Jungkook.

Who nods curtly. “Yeah… I practice at a range a lot. Place like this, you need to protect yourself, y’know? I – you were better.” There’s something ridiculous about how jealous Jungkook sounds. “I’ve never seen bullets do that before.”

Do what? Jin wants to ask, but even though Namjoon’s relaxed his hold on Jin’s arm (fractionally), he’s still more than a little worried that they’ll react badly to him trying to talk. Hoseok snorts a laugh, more impatient than amused. “That’s less me than the gun. It’s custom made. Practice enough and the bullets practically bend themselves.”

“Uh huh…” For some reason Jungkook isn’t convinced. He’s eyeing Hoseok like he expects the man to explode or something.

Namjoon gently breaks in. “I’m sorry, officer, but do we need to stay here? None of us are injured, and I think Kwanghyun would feel more comfortable at home.” Jin’s watched enough crime serials to know that the request isn’t going to be granted; that’s just not the procedure for a shootout on some street. He can’t imagine that Namjoon wants to go to the police station or be surrounded by a bunch of cops – hell, at this point even he doesn’t really want to – but it seems unavoidable.

“I should take your statements,” Hoseok says, but then he just stands there, jittery and unfocused. It’s not until Namjoon coughs that the officer starts and refocuses, at least a little. “I’m not – sorry, you’ll need to wait until the on-duty officers arrive.”

And without another word, the man turns away from them, meanders through the sleeves, careless of the way his boots squelch through the blood on the street. He’s checking each stack with his interface watch, maybe looking at identities or making sure they aren’t destroyed. Namjoon and Jungkook exchange looks, and Jin half expects them to decide to either make a break for it or try to take the cop out while he’s distracted.

Eventually Namjoon jerks a shoulder. “We’ve prepared for this,” he says, very low. “We’ll just have to wait. And – here.” He digs in his coat’s pockets and then shoves something at Seokjin, a slender, silver wristband, and it’s so simple that it takes Jin a moment to realize that it’s an interface device. Nothing at all like his own, with its sleek monochrome frame, but with a feeling of relief he puts it on anyways, blinks a few times as it syncs with his internal network. Being without one had almost felt like being naked, and a quick scroll through the limited features confirms that the band has an identity tied to it – real and stolen from someone else, or just made up, he doesn’t know. It can’t make calls or connect to other devices, and when he circumspectly brings up a web page, he finds that he can access all the posts but can’t make any of his own.

He supposes it would have been a little naïve to hope they’d make that kind of mistake.

Namjoon guides Jin and Jungkook to the side while Hoseok makes harried efforts to shoo away the people who are beginning to congregate around the scene, mysteriously interested now that bullets have stopped flying. They’re in a good position to see three black and yellow hovercars (Jin’s once again surprised the district even has any) sinking from the sky, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and police are suddenly descending on the scene like a swarm of locusts.

With quick professionalism they set up a cordon, the laser red lights bright in the gathering darkness, warning away curious onlookers. Immediately after, they begin to tag the bodies and collect spent cartridges, and a few more peel off, presumably to look for the remaining ambushers. Actually, they’re as methodical and skilful as any staff he’s ever seen (not that Jin’s seen many police setups) and he’s just beginning to feel a mixture of unease and admiration for whoever’s leading them when a tall, curly haired officer walks over to Hoseok.

And salutes him.

Jin is gratified to note that he’s not alone in his slack-jawed disbelief; Namjoon makes a little, incredulous sound, eyes widening before they abruptly narrow, and Jungkook actually leans forward like he’s seriously doubting his eyesight. They can’t hear what’s being said, but the two seem to be arguing, with a lot of hand waving by the woman while Hoseok stares anywhere but her and rocks on his heels. She jabs at his arm and he winces and steps back but doesn’t seem like he’s budging more than that. After several moments, the conversation winds down. Hoseok gestures at them, and both cops come over.

“This is Lieutenant Adebayo. She’ll take your statements and be leading this case. If we need anything else, she’ll be in contact with you, too.”

“For now,” the officer says, her eyes flashing a challenge. “I’m sure the captain will step in later once he’s got his wounds fixed up.”

Wounds? Jin scours the man’s body, then finds the spot the officer had poked at, on his upper arm. There is a rip in the fabric of the uniform, though the cloth is so dark it’s hard to tell if there’s any bleeding at the spot. And he certainly hadn’t seemed to act like someone who’d just been shot. Or shot multiple times.

The man looks away from his officer, and her brows furrow in frustration before she switches her attention to them. Adebayo turns out to be just as efficient as the rest of the team. She scans their bands – as suspected, Jin comes up as Kwanghyun – and she takes their accounts of the situation with decisive questions, forcing all of them to answer at random. Jin does his best to go along with the barebones of the story that Namjoon’s already constructed, more wary than ever of saying the wrong thing, and none of them contradict each other. She doesn’t seem inclined to suspicion, anyways; apparently the captain has all but cleared them. Before too long she’s lowering her omni-tool and shutting off the recording.

Hoseok’s wandered off and is lingering by the side, just inside of the red-light tape. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. They dance around his body, tapping at his thighs, sweeping across his chest, or fretting at the air like he’s trying to grab something. One of the other policemen is attending to him, and sure enough, with his jacket removed, his arm is bleeding from two spots, sluggish trickles that he pays no mind to. The medic is struggling to get it wrapped in between his fidgeting.

Jin’s not entirely sure, but it seems like the rest of the collection of officers, some ten of them, are so blatantly not looking at Hoseok that they must be making an effort at it. Just once, Seokjin catches one of them glancing at Hoseok, with an expression so troubled it’s too personal to just be a subordinate worrying about her wounded boss.

Adebayo notices where he’s looking. “You’re lucky Captain Jung came along when he did,” she says stiffly. “I don’t know why these thugs jumped you guys, and I really don’t know why they kept at it when you shot the first few, but you’d be dead if he hadn’t shown up.”

Inclining his head, a bare acknowledgement, Namjoon says, “I think you’re right. Although Captain Hoseok mentioned there weren’t any patrols around this area. Why was he here?” His inquiry is more aggressive than he’s sounded throughout, a stormy tension drawing his forehead tight.

“I don’t know, but that’s not any of your business,” is her flat answer as she pulls back a little.

“Maybe not, but I’m just concerned. Why weren’t there any police patrols around? This isn’t a safe place to begin with. Should we be scared? Are the police giving up on this area? Do I need to tell our neighbours that we’re alone now, that we can only count on ‘off-duty’ cops?” He pauses, studying her with an intensity that has her shifting, and then asks, “Or do the Meths just want the police patrolling somewhere else?”

At the last question, her chin jerks up, and Adebayo snaps, “The Meths don’t say where we go, and no, we’re not abandoning this neighbourhood. Of course we aren’t!” She stops, takes a deep breath. “Listen, I live around here, too. I want it to be safe. We’re going to be patrolling more in the future. This just happened, coincidentally, at a bad time. And the captain saved your asses and got shot in the process, so you shouldn’t be going around badmouthing us to your neighbours or anyone else!”

Abruptly his penetrating expression falls away, replaced by an embarrassment that seems artificial to Jin, a mask placed over some other, stronger emotion. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it seems to be getting worse around here. I haven’t been – I just wouldn’t want to lose anyone.”

Adebayo softens and relents. “Yeah. Yeah, I get that. Look, there’s not much more you can do here. The captain said you weren’t injured?” Wordlessly Namjoon nods. “We have your info; we’ll give you a call or drop by once we’re done interviewing some of these.” Her careless gesture indicates the sleeves being loaded up into one of the hovercars. “Best you can do is go home and rest. You’re not planning on leaving Triptych anytime soon, are you?”

“No, Lieutenant. Last I checked, you need a helluva lot of creds for a vacation.”

Making a face, she steps away. “Don’t remind me. Just keep it that way, huh? We’ll probably need you to testify at some point.”

“You got it.”

Not needing to be told twice, Namjoon pulls Jin along, Jungkook keeping pace alongside them. Jin glances back, in time to see Lieutenant Adebayo rest a hesitant hand on Hoseok’s shoulder, leaning forward to speak to him. He also watches long enough to see the lanky man gently shrug off that supportive hand and turn his back on his subordinate, on the sprawl of bodies, and, it seems to Jin, on the whole situation altogether.

#namjin #namjin fanfic #namjoon x seokjin #member x member #namjoon #seokjin #jin #my fanfic

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leescoresbies · 5 years ago

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on this, the eve of rnm s2, would you be willing to grace us with the most important of rnm style rankings - ms. maria deluca? c'mon, you know you want to.

alright i have caved and i have made the most insane list of the most absurd things that my messy maria wears in season 1. i can’t wait to see the even MORE BONKERS things she wears in season 2.

for your pleasure... 10 things maria deluca wears that certainly are things, that maria deluca wears.

1. her “scamming everyone i went to high school with” outfit from episode 1

i had very little luck taking a clear screenshot of this outfit because she wears it while whirling around on the dance floor so this will do. like a lot of things maria wears, this ALMOST works. the flowy skirt? the floral crop top? good, great, very on brand for 2019 actually. the.... blue? fringed? boots??? no idea. liz’s outfit here sucks, as a sidenote. i think i wore it in 7th grade. 6/10.

2. THE NINETIES CALLED AND ITS COOL TO BE BISEXUAL NOW

you all know this was coming. i LOVE this only because it’s so beyond bizarre. it could get a pass as a throwback outfit that really commits, but i’m not exactly sure what she’s throwing back to. two t shirts and a dress and a flannel around her waist and the hat? insert “bi women going to brunch” joke here. there’s no other explanation. she got dressed in a stereotype’s closet. it’s horrible. i’m obsessed. 35/10.

also these two are cute. RETURN THIS FRIENDSHIP TO ME!!!!! guerin’s dick is not that bomb c’mon.

(maria can we talk about that questionable neon sign. maria. come on.)

3. velma & daphne edition

this outfit ekes by in its cohesiveness, which is a lot more than we can say for a lot of things maria wears. perfectly suited to tramping around after your best friend on a weird quest to uncover the secrets her sister / your dead best friend / the girl you might have had a high school crush on left behind. the jacket and boots in particular do a lot here. 5/10 for proving she’s got something normal in her closet.

4. ..... whatever this is

don’t let her sizzling ust with ms. isobel evans fool you. this is horrendous. literally incomprehensibly bizarre. she has at LEAST three shirts on and she’s definitely wearing a mandala and everything is cropped or too long. isobel is definitely picturing removing that horrific mesh shirt from her shoulders... and burning it. 2/10 because of her face.

5. her mimi’s day out picnicking outfit

FINALLY we see maria in somewhere other than her bar which means we get a full view of exactly how ugly the thing she is wearing is, in daylight. here she is on a fun-filled day with her beloved mom... wearing seven different shirts. maria layers like nobody’s business. today she layers in a tweed blazer (?) and a mustard sweater (?) and some kind of green button-up (?). individually any of these things MIGHT get a pass. together they indicate she's a jehovah’s witness.

also the haaaaaiiir the hair here is so bad. there are some natural curl in this girl waiting to get out.

look at how cute the four of them look though. ALMOST makes up for the fact that maria looks like someone’s idea of what a sexy librarian might look like, if they’ve never had sex or been in a library. ALMOST. 1/10

6. texas road-trip karaoke outfit.

this shirt is ridiculous and she previously removed a really ugly jacket, but i am not looking at what she’s wearing right now. i am looking at her neckline. sorry ms. heather hemmens ma’am i say this with the utmost respect but your tits here? 100000/10.

the rest of it’s like a 4. i know she’s wearing impractical boots. how did she not break her ankle running around in the dark. why did liz let her run around in the dark by herself anyway??? no woman i know would let her friend wander drunk outside a skeevy bar and not worry about her, no matter how free-wheeling and fun she might be. these are questions i have, carina. ridiculous.

7. lime green museum-guy reveal

this is a TERRIBLE color choice and for some reason she’s also wearing a vest? chartreuse doesn’t work on anyone, no matter how good-looking they are. hair, makeup and earrings are great here though. also look at these friends. i love these friends. i’d die for them. i am SAYING is that dick really that bomb???? 7/10

8. LOOK YOU CAN PULL IT OFF

maria has one outfit in her closet that’s cute, sensible, on-brand and in style. it’s this one. i mean - i’d want to sleep with her too, michael. we’re ignoring that this jacket has, like, unnecessary appliques on the back because we’re all so relieved. 8/10.

9. alien emporium gala dress

i am going to come forward and tell you all that this look.... doesn’t do it for me at all. the middle part... the sequins... the smoky eye. none of it jives together and it all feels overdone and awkward and heather is like the most beautiful woman in the planet so i don’t understand how they pulled it off. REALLY out of character for maria, i think. even her neckline can’t save her now. 3/10.

10. season finale / girl you’re about to do WHAT NOW look

this is one of my favorite maria get-ups. i looove this color on her. i don’t understand why she’s wearing ANOTHER vest but somebody in their costume department must be desperately trying to signal that she’s not straight because the only people i know who wear vests in situations that don’t also involve a tuxedo are not straight. anyway, this is such a soft and pretty look on her. the color is flattering, the lipstick is choice, her hair up is lovely. from this angle you can’t tell that this also involves a high-waisted mini skirt or something, and that’s fine. what else happens in this scene? 10/10 we can ignore the context and just admire how pretty she looks here.

#YA WELCOME #i love maria she kills me #their costume department is smoking weed constantly i guess #maria deluca #memories are films about ghosts #HAPPY ALMOST SEASON 2 YALL #acomebackstory

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talistheintrovert · 5 years ago

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she’s a killer queen

@yourereallyhere asked for the Bellarke QOTS AU from my WIP list and I had SUCH a blast writing this, so I hope you like it my love!

and on ao3, if you prefer!

*****

Finn being alive was certainly a revelation.

She hadn’t decided if it was a good one or a bad one yet, but it was definitely a surprise.

One she really didn’t have time for.

But, unfortunately, surprises were what Finn was best at.

“I’m sorry, what?!” She snapped.

Finn winced. “She’s my ex. If she sees me she might kill me, you have to go in without me.”

They were on the border into Polis, planning to meet with a dealer on Diyoza’s behest, someone who ran most of the trade here - codename ALIE - and Finn had promised her and Bellamy that he had a contact who could hook them up with a meeting. Only he failed to mention that said contact apparently violently hated him.

“I don’t give a shit if she’ll kill you, she’s your contact, we need you to get in.” Bellamy snapped, shoving him forward. “So move.”

He stumbled through the beaded curtain and into the club, and Clarke followed, Bellamy bringing up the rear with his hand firmly planted on the gun at his side.

Ever since they’d arrived at the border, he’d been overly protective of Clarke, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. If she didn’t have time to deal with Finn being alive these past few weeks, she definitely didn’t know how to decipher that.

“This place is like a neon sign saying ‘Raid Me’.” Bellamy muttered to her as they walked through the crowds of chipped up dancing tourists. “Your boyfriend’s dimwittedness is gonna get us killed.”

“Not my boyfriend.” She responded.

“But you still won’t let me shoot him.” He grumbled, and she was pretty sure he was mostly saying it to diffuse the tension, but there was also a definite element of annoyance in his voice. Finn had caused nothing but trouble since he’d turned up.

“Allow me.” A voice said, and they froze as an snaked out, pistol pointed at Finn’s head.

He smiled weakly. “Hey Raven. Long time no see.”

“Hey jackass.” She snapped back.

“Hey.” Clarke said, stepping closer with her hands raised in surrender. “I don’t know what he did to you, but that’s nothing to do with me. I came here to trade with ALIE.”

Raven cut her eyes across to her. “Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with us.” Bellamy growled, fingers tightening around his gun.

“I suppose with you it’s hardly playing is it?” She smirked. Her finger slipped off the trigger. “Fine. But I’m not taking either of the muscleheads. I think we need to have some girl time.”

She grabbed Clarke’s elbow and dragged her through the crowd. They lost Finn and Bellamy in seconds, and Clarke didn’t like it one bit. They reached the bathroom and Raven closed the door behind them.

This was beginning to feel more and more like a trap with every passing minute.

“How do you know Finn?”

“He was my boyfriend. He faked his death and put me through hell so he could escape a death sentence from the Mountain Men Cartel.” Clarke said frankly. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

Raven snorted. “Well, at least you’re more honest than he is. You dating the muscly one?”

“Bellamy’s my friend.”

“So not yet then.” She mused. “You sure need Finn returned in one piece?”

“Yes.”

“Pity.”

“I thought we came in here to talk shop, not gossip about boys.” Clarke said, eyebrow raised.

Raven grinned. “I like you. So, you wanna trade?”

Clarke nodded.

“ALIE doesn’t do that. She’s the only distributor of the chip down here and she’s not letting anyone else encroach on her territory. And especially not Diyoza.”

“We’re not trying to move down here-” She faltered, swallowing, and took a hesitant step back. “We never said anything about working for Diyoza.”

“Yeah, well,” Raven shrugged, “ALIE doesn’t let anyone across the border without knowing exactly what they want in Polis, and Finn isn’t exactly subtle. She doesn’t trade, and she doesn’t like Diyoza. Her plan is to own everything on this side of the line, and for every other cartel to respect that goddamn line.”

“Like I said, we’re not trying to move down here. We’re trying to bring her product further North.”

Raven tilted her head, ponytail swishing. “Why?”

“It’s the best product in Arkadia.”

“True. What does ALIE get out of it?”

Clarke didn’t say anything. It didn’t seem like a question that actually required an answer.

Raven frowned a little, thinking it over. “Alright, you got yourself a deal. But if you’re doing this, you go all the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

And then Raven moved, shoving her over the basin and holding her down. Clarke fought her, but it was too late, and she felt a sharp pain in her neck, coursing through her veins, and then she felt nothing at all. It was like she was floating. All her worst memories were drifting behind a curtain, and all the scrapes and bruises she’d acquired over the last few weeks didn’t feel like they were there anymore. She blinked a few times, dizzy-headed, and Raven released her and stepped back.

“What did you do?” Clarke asked, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth.

“You wanna sell ALIE’s product, you’ve gotta be part of the family.” She said cryptically, and then a woman in a red dress swam into view, perfectly manicured nails tapping on the counter near Clarke’s drooping head.

“Well done, Raven. Welcome to the City of Light, Clarke.”

Clarke felt her knees go out from under her and had to catch herself on the basin, and when she blinked her heavy eyes open once again, Raven was gone.

The woman in red was still there, but Clarke had a feeling she was in her head.

A feeling that was confirmed when the bathroom door was kicked open and Bellamy ran right through the woman to get to her.

“Clarke?” He caught her around the waist and guided her to the floor, holding her to his chest while his eyes darted over her face. “Fuck. Clarke, stay with me, okay?”

“She made me take the chip, Bell…” She mumbled. “I can see her.”

He cursed again, arms tightening around her. “Stay with me, okay? I’m right here.”

He reached up and turned the tap on, trying to cool her forehead with water. This happened with four percent of everybody who took the chip - their bodies started rejecting it, fighting back against the infection in the brain, and the likelihood of death got higher the longer the chip stayed inserted.

Clarke tried to remember the statistics, to keep herself focussed while Bellamy lifted her slightly so he could douse her face and hair with ice-cold water.

He was talking to her, muttering promises and swearing he wouldn’t let this go unpunished, and stroking her damp hair back from her face so he could check her pupils.

Finn ran in, out of breath and glancing over his shoulder as if expecting someone to follow him. He flicked the latch on the bathroom door shut, and then turned around.

When he saw the two of them on the floor, his eyes widened in confusion. “What the hell?”

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Bellamy snapped, furious.

“Dealing with Raven, what happened to Clarke?” He said, crouching down on her other side and trying to touch her.

Bellamy smacked his hand away. “Get me something for her to bite down on.”

Finn looked like he might argue, but instead he undid his belt and folded it in half, offering it to Clarke. She let him place it between her teeth, locking eyes with ALIE as she did. The woman only smiled, empty.

“Knife.” Bellamy said, holding his hand out, and Finn handed his over.

“Are you sure-”

“-Clarke, this is gonna hurt, okay?” He said, ignoring Finn completely. He manoeuvered her forward, pulling her hair over her shoulder before trailing his hands soothingly down her back. “But you’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Bellamy, I don’t like this, what if it-”

“I’m not interested in a single thing you have to say right now, Collins.” He barked. “You nearly botched the deal because you have a habit of screwing over your exes, and now Clarke is dying on a bathroom floor, s-”

“-THAT’S what this is about, isn’t it?” Finn retorted. “This is about her. Well you can forget it, because it’s-”

“-stop it.” Clarke whispered, pressing her eye socket against Bellamy’s knee. His jeans rubbed against her skin but she barely felt it, and she could still see ALIE’s shoes in the corner of her vision.

The men forgot their fight and Finn gripped her arms to hold her still, while Bellamy leaned closer, breath fanning over her neck.

“On three.” He said, and then pain ripped through her neck and ricocheted through her head. It was worse than anything she’d ever experienced - all the lowest moments in her life, all the broken fingers and cut legs and dark memories - everything came back at once, and it was agony.

She was dimly aware that she was thrashing against them, and there was a scream echoing around the tiled bathroom, but all she felt and saw and heard was pain.

Finn’s hands fell away - she was pretty sure she kicked him - and then Bellamy was at her back, strong arms banding her waist and keeping her arms pinned. His lips were pressed below her ear and he was murmuring something; it didn’t matter what, but she focussed on the sound and tried to drag herself back to the present.

Finally, she became conscious of her limbs again, and of the burn in her lungs. She gasped, throwing her head back against Bellamy’s shoulder, chest heaving, and he slumped with relief, loosening his grip.

“Clarke?”

She swallowed thickly. “You didn’t even count to one.”

His laugh was small, drained. “Figured it would go better if I went for the element of surprise.”

“Fuck you.” She breathed, but she turned her head slightly, nuzzling against his jaw.

“You okay?” He asked, reaching up to feel her forehead.

“No.”

“Okay.” He let his head fall, resting his forehead on her cheek.

She stretched her arms out, loosening them, remembering the cut on her forearm as she did, which made her wince. It was exhausting, trying to move, so she gave up and simply placed her hands on Bellamy’s thighs, grounding herself.

“Me neither, by the way.” Finn’s voice was muffled, and she glanced at him. There was blood gushing out of his nose, and he was pressing a huge wad of toilet paper against it.

She frowned, vaguely remembering the foot she’d sent into his face. “Sorry.”

He shrugged. “I probably deserved it.”

“Probably?” Bellamy muttered darkly, and Clarke elbowed him. His only reaction was to bundle her a little closer, nudge his nose against her skin, and she realised how scared he must have been to find her dying on the floor. She was resting against his chest, in the V of his legs, and he was drenched; whether from sweat or from the cold water on her she couldn’t be sure.

“At least we’ve got a deal, right?” Finn pointed out.

“Seeing as that deal nearly killed Clarke, I hope you’ll excuse me if I don’t jump up and down in glee.”

“Down boys.” Clarke said sternly.

“Sorry Clarke.” Finn said sheepishly. “I didn’t know Raven would do that, I thought it would be me she would put the chip in, I never… it never crossed my mind she’d take you instead.”

“S’okay.”

Bellamy was less moved by the apology. “Are you sure I can’t shoot him?”

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ims-monbebe · 6 years ago

Text

Wanna Get Inside of Your Night.

Authors Notice: Hello my wonderful readers, I’m back with yet another smut. (tehehe) It’s been a while since I’ve written something so I’m sorry if I’m a little rusty. I just really wanted to write Hyungwon smut so that’s how this story came about because I am selfish haha. That’s all that’s to it really.

As always, if smut makes you uncomfortable please don’t read, but if you’re a pervert like me push on that keep reading button lmao.

Paring: Hyungwon x Female reader

Word Count: 3,793

Rating: (M) - NSWF (explicit sex)

- Overstimulation

Enjoy :-)

The room around you is dim as you continue to dance on such a handsome stranger. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is inviting. Lust filled thoughts take over both of your minds as the beat of the music takes you somewhere far away. You push yourself closer to him, as close as you can get with your clothes on as his expensive cologne takes over your senses. Your eyes close as your mind wanders to him doing such unthinkable things to you. You want him hard, deep, you want him now. You look up and see his eyes glistening underneath the neon lights and signs, lust tracing over them as you grind yourself harder onto his hardening cock. His hands run down your silky skin, loving the feeling, it’s leaving him wondering what the skin underneath your skirt feels like, how the taste of you lingers in his mouth, and how many orgasms it takes to get you to scream and curse his name like it’s the only word you know. His instincts are almost animalistic in nature as he craves your touch more and more. The music blasting as your slightly sweaty bodies press together isn’t enough, he wants more, he needs more. You both need more.

“What did you say your name was again?” You yell into his ear, feeling rude for even forgetting.

He laughs a little, the coldness of it sending shivers down your spine. “Hyungwon, and yours?”

“Y/N.”

“That’s a pretty name.” His hands bring you closer to him. “Do you want to go somewhere more private with me?”

“Where?” Your eyes look up, already getting an idea but you keep playing dumb.

“Just follow me.” He whispers.

You don’t protest as he grabs your hand and begins moving towards the back of the club. Both of your bodies feeling worked up and hot, needing some kind of sweet release, any, you just needed to feel him inside you. Once the two of you finish pushing past an ocean of people you’re met by two security guards guarding a hallway. Hyungwon quickly takes out a card and shows it to them and the two of them instantly let him through. Confusion takes over your mind for a few seconds before you speak up.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere.” He mumbles as you two approach a door. He takes the same card and inserts it inside, the door quickly unlocking in front of the two of you. “Do you protest?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good.”

He pushes the door open and both of you walk inside the dark room. You hear the door shut and lock quickly before the lights turn on. You look around and see you’re in a small room with a sofa in the center. You smile to yourself, perfect.

Before you can question him further Hyungwon shoves your body against the cold steel of the door. He lifts your chin with his thumb and examines your face in the dim lighting. His eyes are cold and fierce, lust overtaking them as his gaze deepens. You both stare at each other, the silence of the room suffocating at your throat as his eyes continue to eat away at you. You take the initiative and push your lips onto his. The softness of them takes you by surprise. You sigh in relief as your hands slide up his chest and find a home at the back of his neck. His mouth mimics your own, parting so slightly as he lets his breath gently roam on your bottom lip. His hand is now at your hips and the other is sliding up and massaging the inside of your inner thigh. You let out a soft moan as he presses his erection onto your hips, you breathe out in surprise at the sudden feeling. The sound is absolutely enchanting to Hyungwon. The two of you pull away for a second- both of your breathes heavy as you stare at each other and try to figure who’s going to make the first move. He moves his hand from your hips and slowly slides it inside your laced underwear. His fingertip now circling the tender bud of your clit. You bite back a moan as your head falls back onto the door. Hyungwon smiles at the sight of you, slightly picking up the pace.

“P-please.” You stutter out. “I need more.”

“Need more what?”

“You!” You whine as you buck your hips up, trying to look for more friction. “I need more of you please.”

He stops his actions and you let out a frustrated groan. His hands slide down your thighs and he lifts you up and begins to walk towards the sofa. He throws you onto the leather and drops onto his knees. He hands push your skirt up to your waist and takes off your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder. He spreads your legs open as far as they can go and places them on top of his shoulders. He stares at your exposed cunt, his fingers now parting you at your lips. He looks at you through hooded eyes as you bite your lips with anticipation. He chuckles to himself as he stares up at you, licking his lips at the sight, excited to finally have a taste of you.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, I just didn’t realize how wet you already were.” He hums as he runs his fingers slowly up your slit and coats his fingers in your juices. He brings one of them up to his lips and slowly licks his finger, smiling at the taste. “You taste even better than I expected.”

Before you could say anything back to him his head dips down to run his tongue over your slit. He moans softly as your arousal takes over his taste buds, falling in love with his new found taste of you. You groan at the new found pleasure and you look down to see his eyes already looking up at you, his lips glistening in the light with your juices. He moves his tongue up and down your slit again and you throw your head back in frustration, already knowing what little game he’s trying to play.

“Stop being a tease,” You mumble as your fingers run through his jet black hair. “Please.”

He grins at the state he has you in, loving the way you're begging him for more. He licks up your slit again and stops just before his tongue reaches your clit. The teasing is infuriating, stopping short of your clit and going back to your slit leaves you grunting in frustration. The sight of you trying to buck your hips onto him has him grinning wider and liking the situation you’re in. The control he has over you is further arousing him as his tongue continues to slowly slide up and down your slit. Your low gasps and panting are music to his ears as he finally flattens his tongue and begins to circle steadily around your clit. Your moans become louder as your fingers tangle in his hair and you hold him steady while the assault on your clit continues. His pace begins to quicken as you slightly rock your hips back and forth onto his tongue, causing him to press harder onto your aching clit.

The pleasure is bittersweet as the sensation of orgasm quickly approaches your body. You tense up as you desperately try to hold it in, enjoying the sight of Hyungwon going down on you a little too much. The sight alone was enough to make you cum, but the feeling of you grinding on his tongue was far too good you needed more.

“Hyungwon-“ You moan out, your voice shaken as your body reaches its limit. “I’m gonna- fuck I’m gonna cum.”

He hums onto your clit, the vibration sending you over the edge. “Then come for me pretty girl.” He mumbles as pushes your legs further apart.

Your head falls back onto the sofa as you obey his command. The room is filled with his low grunts and your high pitched moans as his tongue circles around your clit faster and your hips keep grinding on him upward. You feel yourself release onto his tongue as his grip on you tightens, trying to help you ride out your orgasm. You release the grip you have on his hair and fall back onto the couch. Your eyes are shut tight as you try to collect yourself and your thoughts while he's licking your release clean with his tongue. Hyungwon pulls himself up from the floor and leans into you gently kissing your lips, the taste of you lingering as he pulls away from you.

“That was amazing.” You say, oxygen still trying to enter into your lungs. “I’ve never had anyone make me finish by just their tongue.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

You nod slowly. “You’re really good at that.”

He laughs at your words, thinking of what to say to your compliment. “Thanks. I guess I’ve had a decent amount of practice.”

You laugh slightly as you sit up. His crotch now at eye level with you. You grab onto the band of his pants and pull him closer to your body. Your fingers loop and fumble with the buckle of his belt and he chuckles at your eagerness. Once the belt is on the floor you quickly slide his pants and boxer briefs out of the way and he kicks them both off his feet. You look up at him as your hand latches onto his cock and his breathing hitches. You begin to pump your hand up and down his shaft at a slow pace, his eyes rolling back and then he looks down at you with those same dark sinful eyes. You smile as you slowly take in the head of his cock into your mouth, twirling your warm tongue over and around it fully intending to tease him slowly. A little payback from earlier won’t hurt him any. He grunts a little too loudly as you take his cock deep into the back of your throat and back out. You replace your mouth with your hand and look back up at him, batting your eyes innocently.

“Stop playing or else.” He growls from the back of his throat, his voice low, and husk.

“Or else what?” You tilt your head to the side pumping your hand a little faster up and down his shaft.

“You’ll see Y/N.” He grumbles, his eyes shut as he inhales sharply.

It doesn’t take much time for Hyungwon to stop your actions and move you to the side to allow a space for him to sit. You look at him, confusion taking over your eyes as he pats his hand on top of his thigh.

"Come here now."

"But-" You begin to protest.

"I said now."

The sudden change of his tones makes you shudder before you quickly comply. You bring your legs over his lower body. You look into his eyes as you wait for him to give you another order. "Ride it."

You raise a curious eyebrow as his hands grab a hold of your waist. "But I'm still a little sensitive from earlier."

"I didn't ask you any of that. Just ride my thigh, now Y/N."

You laugh at his sudden insane demands. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as I can be." He bucks his leg up and it grinds onto your swollen clit. "I don't like being teased. So, stop stalling pretty girl get to riding." He places both of his arms behind his head and leans back onto the couch grinning at you. "Now before I really get mad, and you don't want to see that."

You inhale sharply before letting out a nod. You grab onto his shoulders as his hands fall back down to your hips. "I'm starting to think your kink is to see people suffer."

He laughs softly. "Still stalling?" He bucks his leg up against your clit again and a sobbed moan escapes your lips.

Through slightly teary eyes you begin to grind your hips onto his thigh, the sensation feeling too much but oh so good.

"Fuck," You mumble out. "Fuck, fuck you-"

"I think I'm the one who's going to be doing the fucking, don't you think?" Damn it, this guys tongue is dangerous in more ways than one.

Your body's movements pick up its pace, your juices are getting over his thigh and it causes more friction against already throbbing clit. You cry out in pleasure as another orgasm rapidly approaches. You look down at Hyungwon who is starring at you with slightly parted lips. His hands move up from your hips and grabs onto the bottom of your shirt. He quickly lifts it up and smiles at the fact that you aren't wearing a bra. His hands slide up your torso and throws your shirt onto the floor, his hands find a home on your breast. His warm hands gently massage them and you moan louder, the sensation maddening. His hands fall back down and grip onto your ass as he digs his head into your chest. You feel the warmth of his mouth on your breast, sucking lightly on your nipple. His hands on your ass help you rock back and forth on his thigh faster.

"Fuck, Hyungwon I'm gonna cum again." You cry out. The stimulation becoming unbearable for your body. "It hurts, I can't. I can't."

"Yes, you can." He assures you. "Cum again for me baby, please?"

You only moan in response, his sweet words easing the tension in your core. It takes no time for you to finish again, your orgasm soaking his thigh. Your head falls onto his chest as your breathing tries to subside. You feel his hands still rocking you back and forth onto his thigh and you look up at him with hazy eyes. The look in his eyes continues to get darker as you whimper, the feeling of the overstimulation too much for you. He pushes back the hair that's stuck onto your sweaty forehead before he places a kiss onto your lips.

"Come on baby one more time, you can do it. You're doing so good for me."

You shake your head, the pleasure absolutely astonishing. Your next orgasm isn't far behind as your body continues to grind itself onto his leg despite your clit being well overstimulated. Your nails are digging into his flesh as you rest your head in the croc of his neck. It takes no time for you to cum again this time, the only thing that can be heard are both of your high moans and grunts. Your body twitches as you ride out your orgasm, his hands gently holding you into place as your body rides out its high.

You collapse onto his chest, out of breath and completely euphoric. After a moment of silence, you find the strength in you to push yourself up, a smile across your face. He pushes your hair behind your ears before examining your face.

"Still doing good?"

You nod, your smile still spread across your face. In your books, this guy is some sex god now by making you cum three times in a row. "Never better."

He leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips before laying on you back down on your back. He reaches down for his pants and fumbles with the pockets. He holds up a condom and quickly puts it on, you both smile at each other his eagerness refreshing. His cock is rock hard and he's been ready to cum for a while, but although what it may seem like Hyungwon is a gentleman, wanting you to finish once and if not multiple times before he does himself. That's just the kind of guy he is, although you two are nothing more than strangers on such a lonely night like this, he senses something special in you. He can't describe it, but he's interested in getting to know you and your life, on more than just a physical level. He can't describe how he knows, he just knows. Although his cold demeanor maybe intimidating he's really content and happy in these moments spent with you, it's been a long time since he's been with someone he's felt was special.

Once the condom is all the way on he disposes of the wrapper. He leads down and gives you yet another kiss, gentle but rough at the same time. He places his knee between your thighs as he positions himself at your entrance. He slides into you with no trouble at all, your three previous orgasms leaving you soaking wet, the sound of it all almost as sinful as your previous activities. He's larger than most people you've had as you gasp at the new fullness you feel. His mouth falls open as he softly moans, his eyes are shut as you stare back up at him through your glossy lust filled eyes. Your hands grab onto his arms as he looks down at you, a small grin spreading across his face.

"You good?"

You raise an eyebrow up at him. "The real question is are you good?"

His hand comes up to your face as he gently strokes your cheek, smiling to himself. "I'm good princess, but you won't be."

You scoff at his words, his cocky attitude is a huge turn on and with he's already done to you don't doubt him. He begins to thrust his hips in and out slowly and your grip around his arms tighten. You hiss in pleasure as the angle of his cock hits that one sensitive spot in you.

"Fuck," You cry out as his thrusting begins to get faster. He smiles down at you as his fingers begin to work at your aching clit again. "Hyungwon, oh fuck." You moan out louder.

He smiles, his name falling from your lips sounding absolutely bliss. You wrap your legs around his waist and attempt to bring him closer to you. His hips continue to move against you at a faster pace as his fingers still draw lazy circles on your clit. You bite your lips as your head falls back onto the sofa, another orgasm approaching your body.

"Fuck, right there Hyungwon, ahh don't stop." You cry out.

He moans at your words, his fingers begin to move faster on your clit as his hips keep working against you. A thin sheen of sweat forms onto his forehead as he grinds against you, his low needy grunts and your whines of pleasure are the only sounds that fill the room. The heat of the room enters your body as your orgasm is at its peak, your back arches up as you become undone beneath him. Hyungwon is ready to burst but he wants to get you off one more time as if it's the last thing he'll do, and he does just that. With one more circle of his finger, a loud scream escapes your body as you release yourself onto him yet again. Your body shudders as your grip on his arms tightens, it almost feels impossible to ride this one out. You're left breathless and bliss as you look up at him and see him already looking down at you. A smile plastered onto his face as he stares proudly down at you, content with his work, and you're content by it.

His thrust continues at a hurried and sloppy pace, rushing to get his release. After a few more pumps he fills up the condom with a low groan. His breathing is heavy as he pulls out of you. He takes a seat on the couch and pulls the condom off and tosses it in the nearest trash can. Your body has a hard time trying to move as you sit yourself up, both of your breaths heavy. The silence is bliss as you both try to catch your breath. The silence is heavy as he finally looks at you.

"Thanks," Is all he says.

"For what?"

"For that." He laughs softly. "That was the best sex I've ever had." His eyes are soft and tender for the first time, and you can tell he's being sincere.

"No problem, and thank you. I can also the same" You let out a tired smile.

He pushes himself off the sofa, offering you a hand. You accept it and he pulls you onto your feet, your legs feeling extremely wobbly. He hands you your clothes that are scattered across the room and you thank him. The two of you get dressed and before you know it you're in front of the door of the room.

"So I guess that's it then?" You look up at him, disappointment tracing your face. "I hate to say it but I kinda don't want a guy who makes me cum four times to go away, at least not yet."

He smiles as he reaches into his pockets. He pulls out a small card and hands it to you. "Here's my business card. Let's do this again sometime, but maybe after some drinks and dinner. I guess I like you too."

You eagerly grab the card and examine it. "Wow, you're so professional... I didn't know you were the owner of this club." You look up at him. "I guess you do this a lot then."

He laughs softly as he shakes his head. "I never have actually, you were a first for me. I guess I just felt a connection with you."

You smile at his words. "Damn it, I knew your tongue was dangerous in more than one way."

"I guess it is," He laughs at your word choice. "I promise I don't sleep with random girls all the time. There was just something that pulled me towards you. So let me take you out and show you a good time."

You only nod, you can tell he means what he says. "Okay, that sounds great. I'll call you tomorrow then."

He smiles as he opens the door to the room, the both of you get out and he shuts and locks it behind him. "I'll be looking forward to that call then."

The two of you part ways with only a kiss, the feeling of his lips lingering on your lips all night. As you get home and undress for the night you stare at his card in your hand and smile to yourself, the events flashing back through your mind. You place it on your nightstand and lay down, the lights go out as the sleep takes over your body.

Mr. Chae Hyungwon, who knew you could change such a lonely night.

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