#even though i dm in the world and love doing that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparklingchim · 12 days

Text

game on | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.2k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: pg

warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine

summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.

a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙

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Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.

Most of the time, it works in his favour.

But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.

Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.

The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.

Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.

Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.

That’s not his style.

His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.

And right now, it’s pushing back hard.

One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.

He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.

However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.

And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”

His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”

A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.

But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.

“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.

Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.

“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”

“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”

If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.

“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”

Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.

At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.

“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”

His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?

“What?! What do you mean?”

“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.

His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.

He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?

But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.

He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.

“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”

His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.

Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.

Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.

“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”

“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.

“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”

“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”

“I did propose an idea but-”

“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”

“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”

Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”

Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.

When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?

“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”

Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.

“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.

For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.

“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.

“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.

“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”

“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.

But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.

“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”

“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.

Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.

Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.

“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.

One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.

“This is ridiculous.”

You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.

“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”

You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.

“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.

On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.

Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.

But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.

Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.

You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”

While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.

“I need your help.”

His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.

“You need to do something for me.”

“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

You blink, repeatedly.

“Huh?”

You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.

“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”

It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.

“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Fake date me.”

#jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader

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imwritingthefout · 2 months

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after session hangout

basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues

This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:

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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you.

Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it.

Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day!

You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).

Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.

And then there was your dm.

One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.

To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-

You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).

And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.

What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.

As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions!

The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.

Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.

Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.

As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.

You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth.

You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.

You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.

At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.

Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him.

“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away.

Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session.

It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.

“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.

You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.

“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.

“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought

“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.

“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?”

“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!”

….

It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.

He wants to kiss you?

Well this took a turn for the better.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes

“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.

The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.

“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.

“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you.

“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’

You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you.

His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit.

He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.

Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.

He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge.

You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating

You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans

oh.

He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.

“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.

He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly.

He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.

You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.

He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop.

You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”

You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.

“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.

He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”

“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?”

“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.

You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.

“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”

You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself

“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.

He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.

He’ll just have to ask another time.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #ford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #college!ford pines #smut #ford pines smut #ford pines fluff

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

Text

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone…

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did.

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right.

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched.

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny.

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks.

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then?

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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aphroditesmoon · 9 months

Text

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years.

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves.

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue.

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other.

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess.

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however, marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt.

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you.

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy.

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered.

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying.

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out.

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were.

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.'

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat."

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?"

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything.

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. "

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time.

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.”

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd?

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have.

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are. “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response.

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation, she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder. "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #wlw

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suiana · 11 days

Text

The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere musician #yandere musician x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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propertyofemilyprentiss · 13 days

Text

Evermore (part 1)

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

Category: Heavy angst

Summary: After Emily’s death, everything comes falling apart, losing yourself into your old habits. Little did you know that you were secretly talking to her the whole time.

TWs: active self-harm, blood, mentions of suicidal ideation, intrusive thoughts. please do not read it if you’re in a bad place. my dms are always open for anyone.

Word count: 7K

“And I couldn`t be sure

I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for

Evermore”

Your whole world turned upside down with those seven words that came out of JJ’s mouth.

“She never made it off the table”

From that moment, it didn't take more than five seconds for the first stage of grief to settle: denial.

No no no no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't…this couldn't be happening. This was NOT how your story was supposed to end. This can’t be it, right? God please make her come back, please…

Your ears started ringing, and you could’ve sworn that your heart stopped too, blood running cold in an instant. With the biggest pain in your chest that you’ve ever felt in your entire life, you got up from that hospital chair without saying a word, going in JJ’s direction.

You needed to see her. You had to see her. This couldn’t be happening.

”I…I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye”, you heard Spencer from behind, and it broke the last piece of strength that you had left.

You didn’t get to say goodbye either.

”JJ, I need to see her”, you heavily let out, like someone was pushing rocks onto your chest so hard that you could barely breathe.

“y/n”, she stopped you in front of her, pulling you into a hug.

”JJ please”, you sobbed in her arms, almost not being able to stand up.

“It’s going to be okay”, she repeatedly whispered into your ear.

And if you would’ve had it in yourself at that moment, you would’ve screamed how it’s never going to be okay.

How could it ever be okay living without the love of your life?

“Let your last memory of her be a good one, y/n. Please. She’d want it to be this way”, she told you.

And you broke down right in the middle of the waiting room, your legs giving out any remaining shred of strength. You wailed and cried and yelled and begged for Emily to come back to you, hoping that she would come right through those doors.

But she didn’t.

This couldn’t be happening.

—

In those almost four years that you’ve been dating, Emily’s apartment was your home more than yours ever was. You had everything there - your toiletries, clothes, CDs - you could say that you were actually living there, even though there wasn’t anything “official”.

But now, standing there in the middle of the hallway, alone, you couldn't stop the new wave of tears coming from your eyes.

This place has never felt so wrong.

I want to go home.

Your soul ached intensely at the thought - you’re never going to be home again. Looking around, you barely recognized the place, even though nothing was out of its place. It was just…wrong.

It was so quiet.

Slowly, your body made its way to the bedroom by itself and you crashed into the mattress, not even caring that you’ve been wearing the same clothes the whole day.

You painfully looked at Emily’s side of the bed, and it only made you cry harder. You couldn’t fathom the fact that you were never going to have her by your side ever again - you still hoped that this was the biggest nightmare you’ve ever experienced and that you’re going to wake up soon to her being alive and well, right there next to you.

”Come back Emily, please come back”, you sobbed into your pillow, “I can’t do this without you”.

—

When you thought you couldn’t feel worse, you quickly realized that you can - and you will.

Because nobody prepares you for burying the love of your life.

The only thing that stopped you from breaking down crying was that you wanted to put on a brave face for Emily, to be able to say a few last words to her before she would forever disappear into the ground.

With a trembling hand, you placed the white rose on her casket, fighting back the tears that were slowly appearing. You were the last one to do it, but that little extra time didn’t make you feel even remotely more prepared.

With your vision already blurry, you made your way to the speaker.

How were you supposed to tell goodbye to the person you love the most?

”I…uhm, hi”, you sniffled, trying to compose yourself, “as you all know me, I’ll skip the introduction. I am not standing in front of you today just to remind you that I am…was Emily's girlfriend, but to say that it was the most beautiful experience of my life to be able to know her…to really know her. To speak of her is to speak of warmth and kindness, of laughter that could light up even the darkest rooms. She was not just my girlfriend, but my best friend, the person who could easily shove away all my fears, who always listened to my stupid ramblings and was my biggest supporter. Her presence was a blessing to all of us, and her absence leaves a void that cannot be filled”, you felt the pain of your words hitting your chest, wishing nothing more but to be able to fill that unrepairable void.

“From the moment we met, which was three years and seven months ago, we were inseparable. Like two pieces of a puzzle - as cheesy as it sounds”, you brought your left hand to your eyes, trying to wipe away the tears.

”She loved those cheesy comments so much, even though she would never admit it”, you chuckled humorlessly, and everyone else did the same, “But Emily’s love didn’t stop at me. She loved you, all of you, so much”, you almost whispered the last words while looking at the team, “and that day we did everything we could to save her, it just wasn’t…wasn’t”…enough, you wanted to say but refrained.

“My love”, you looked at the casket in front of you, “I wish I knew that the last day I saw you would be the last. I would’ve listened to you speak for longer, I would've looked at you longer, I would’ve sat closer to you. And I wouldn’t have left you alone, despite how desperately you’ve asked me to. But you’ve always been so selfless, I can’t be mad at you, not even this time”, you looked at the sky, one more attempt to keep the tears at bay, “I hope you’re happy up there. I love you so much. Forever and always, I won’t stop loving you”.

Everyone was full-on crying by the time you finished your speech, and now that you were done, you finally let go too. You sobbed in JJ’s arms - just like you did at the hospital - wishing that you would wake up in the right arms instead.

—

“Can’t remember

What I used to fight for”

They say time heals everything, but it didn’t seem to work for you - each night, you were dreaming of her, and each morning was bringing you back to the cruel reality of your lost lover.

It was mentally draining you, and you were starting to wish to never wake up - to not have this huge pause when you were somehow supposed to live your life - and to be able to constantly see her.

Everybody was back to work already, of course, serial killers don’t take breaks because of your heartbreak, but you couldn’t. They kept visiting and checking up on you, but eventually their lives went on. Yours didn’t. Your life has stopped from the moment JJ stepped into that waiting room with that look on her face which told you everything.

You just couldn’t.

How were you supposed to function like a proper human being when you had so much pain within yourself that you couldn’t even get out of bed?

How were you supposed to go back to work without her by your side, and still be able to focus on the cases instead of her heavy absence?

You just couldn’t.

“Where am I to store all this heartache?”, you wondered, looking aimlessly around the room.

You just wanted to go home.

You didn’t know what time it was - you didn’t bother to charge your phone. Which you probably shouldn’t have done, considering the frantic knocks on your door that you got later that day.

Ignoring the pain in your body from not moving almost the whole day, you’ve made your way to the door, not bothering to check who it was.

It wasn’t going to be the right person either way.

”JJ? What are you doing here?”, you asked, rubbing your eyes from the intensity change of the light coming from the hallway.

”We just finished a case and I thought of bringing you something to eat”, she cautiously responded, looking with a worried expression at you - you were clearly not taking care of yourself.

She didn’t want to ask when was the last time you ate. She felt awful, failing at the one promise she told Emily before she left - that she would take care of you in her absence.

”Thanks”, you weakly told her, not looking inside the bag - the mere thought of food made you sick, “I appreciate it, but you know you don’t have to take care of me”.

”I know, y/n, but I know how hard it-“

”You can’t possibly know how hard it is for me, JJ”, you muttered, your temper running short, “whatever you might think, it’s at least one hundred times worse. Look, I appreciate the gesture, but please leave. I don’t want you here”.

You watched the pained look on her face as she defeatedly nodded, “I’m sorry”.

”Sorry won’t bring her back”, your tears quickly resurfaced.

You couldn’t control yourself, letting them flow as you heard the apartment’s door opening and then closing, self-hatred coursing through your veins.

You’ve pushed away the one person who was constantly there for you, who actually cared.

—

“I rewind the tape but all it does is pause

On the very moment all was lost”

“Emily, no! Stay awake baby, open those beautiful eyes for me”, you panicked, trying to keep her awake as long as possible.

The sound of the sirens could easily be heard in the background, but why weren’t they getting closer?

Why aren’t they getting closer !?

“Emily, come on”, you sobbed, trying anything in your power to make her look at you for a little while longer, “you can’t die on me. You promised we’d be together forever”.

You could see the defeated look in her eyes, already accepting her fate.

No no no no no! Emily never gives up.

“Please don’t leave me”, you held her close, your own clothes soaking in her blood, “I love you”.

Suddenly, dozens of paramedics started to show up, but instead of saving Emily, they just stared at you, not moving an inch from the ambulances.

“What…what are you doing?! Help her! Please, I’m begging you!”, you weakly screamed, watching them as they stared at you.

“I love you”, you suddenly heard coming from Emily, then you felt her whole body going limp in your arms.

“No no no no, Emily! Wake up baby, please wake up!”, you desperately cried for her, but you got nothing in response.

Only then, a pair of paramedics approached you, taking her away and leaving you in the pool of her blood. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t fight, you just watched as the love of your life slowly disappeared from your vision.

“Emily!”, you screamed, waking up in your sweat instead of the blood, but you could swear that you were still able to smell it.

You brought your hands to your chest, trying to take deep breaths - this was not your usual nightmare with her, it was much worse. It was a sick, twisted way of your brain giving you what you haven’t actually experienced - being next to her in her last moments.

Every single night you had this constant nightmare of her death, your mind trying to imagine how it would’ve been like to be in Derek’s place that day, and you couldn’t make it stop.

You stared at the empty side of the bed, wishing nothing more than to be able to be held in your girlfriend’s arms again, telling you that everything is okay and that it was just a nightmare. And that she was right there and you had nothing to be afraid of.

But she wasn’t there. She will never be there again.

Oh, what you would give for it to have been a simple nightmare.

Suddenly, you started to panic.

“She will never be there again”, your mind couldn’t wrap around that thought.

“You will be all alone, forever”

“Maybe that’s for the better, you never deserved her”

“You’re so pathetic, being so dependent on a person. She’s finally free from dealing with you. It’s for the better”

“Stop”, you gritted your teeth, trying to make your mind go quiet, “please stop”.

But you already knew you were going to lose. The only times you didn’t, Emily was by your side. Dread filled your body, knowing well what you were capable of.

“I bet she would’ve left either way if she saw you right now. So weak. So worthless”.

“Just give up already”, you already knew where this was going, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You didn’t know why a part of you still fought that thought. Maybe it was the years of progress in which you managed not to relapse, even though you had a few close calls. Maybe it was for your own sanity, knowing that once you restart that path, there’s no going back up to the surface.

Before, Emily was with you during the bad days, turning off those awful voices simply with her presence, holding you close and letting you dry your tears on her shirt while telling you that everything was going to be okay.

Now all that was left were the shirts.

“Come on, you know you want to do it. Just one cut, it hardly counts”.

Without noticing, you were already on your way to the bathroom, even though there was a part of you screaming to go back, to not give in. But you were so exhausted, physically and mentally, that it was your only escape from your thoughts - even if temporarily.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, barely recognising yourself - you had extreme dark circles under your eyes, your hair hadn’t been brushed in days and it wasn’t hard to guess that your teeth had a more intense shade of yellow.

You were disgusted with yourself.

“You look like a monster. You’re lucky Emily won’t be able to see you like this. She would feel repulsed by your appearance”, your mind continued, and your silhouette started to become blurry as tears formed in your eyes for the millionth time.

“I can’t believe she ever loved you”

“Stop!”, you screamed, frantically searching through the cabinets for the razor blade, knowing it was your only option.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you laid your eyes on it, picking it up with your shaky hand.

“One cut, it hardly counts”, you told yourself as you lifted your sleeves, revealing your old, long healed scars.

Pressing it hard against your skin, you slided it on your forearm, taking in the pain that came through. You carefully looked at the droplets of blood that were appearing, watching as they went down on your arm, feeling like you were in a trance.

Suddenly, the slight pain that you were feeling gave you the urge to do more - this wasn’t enough.

The worst part? The too familiar relief that crept through your body made you realize that you were playing a losing game. It was only a matter of time until you would utterly and irreversibly destroy yourself. And you had no desire to change the ending at this point.

You put the razor blade against your skin again, repeating the same process. Again and again, spiraling out of control, until your vision became blurry from tears, and the pain was becoming ineffective to your mind.

Blinking for a few times, only now you’ve realized how much you fucked up. Panic immediately settled in.

“Fuck. Oh my god. Shit. What…what did I do?”

Turning on the water, you started to clean the blood off your arm, your heart rate rising again as you watched it going down the drain. Just like your six years of sobriety.

Turning it off, you quickly found the first aid kit, your hands trembling as they opened it. Clearing the cuts was definitely the worst part - you certainly didn’t miss the sting. Not that it even mattered right now.

You hissed at the burning sensation that only increased as you continued to sanitize them, then you rapidly put a bandage on, covering your whole upper forearm.

You sighed - the effect was already gone, but that was when exhaustion hit. Never looking once behind at the mess you left, you made your way to the bedroom, climbing under the blanket.

Only then you acknowledged the occasional twinges of pain that came from your arm. The lump in your throat intensified with the immense shame and guilt that you soon felt, your soul shattering into pieces that could be put together only by one person.

“What have I done?”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I failed you”, you spoke to the still empty side of the bed, wishing that you would be strong enough to pull through this.

—

Your days started to achieve a comfortable pattern as they went on - you could actually function during the day now that you had a solid distraction - and when the sun would settle down, you would find your stability in self-destruction, in the prolonged sadness that you continued to seek, not knowing any different.

You gradually started to do the simple tasks that any normal person wouldn’t think twice about - getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, your hair - and you started doing the groceries on your own, still being the only times you went outside. But it was progress nonetheless, even though you knew deep down that it was a well-built façade for the people around you, the truth being covered underneath your sleeves.

It was going so well - or so you thought.

But everything changed one day when JJ asked you to look after Henry - you didn’t hesitate to say yes, figuring it would be a good distraction from your own mind - and that kid was so full of love, it almost made you think that maybe…maybe life wasn’t that bad.

So, you quickly asked Penelope to pass by and feed Sergio later that day, managing a small smile at her excitement - she loves that cat as much as you do. You dressed with the first decent outfit that came into your mind and drove in a hurry.

You did everything right - made his favorite meal, played together with his little car toys, brought him to the park, letting him guide you through his world with the biggest smile across his face.

And for the first time in almost three months, you actually, genuinely smiled.

When it was his bedtime, you read his favorite story, tucking him in and telling him how much auntie y/n and his parents love him.

He smiled again, but then a frown sprawled across his little face.

”What’s the matter, buddy?”, you asked, your voice filled with concern.

”Don’t wan’ you huwt”, he pouted, looking down at your covered arms.

Oh. Oh no. Did he see your bandages?

“I’m not hurt…I’m okay”, you sigh, trying to find a good enough explanation, “You know how your mommy fights bad guys?”.

He nods, silently watching you with his big eyes.

”Well, I’m fighting my bad guys too”, you smile at him, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, “But it’s nothing for you to be worried about, okay?”.

”Are they bad bad?”, he worriedly asked.

”Nothing I can’t handle, buddy”, you kiss his forehead, brushing his hair with your fingers, “Now go to sleep, my little superhero”.

He grinned, giving you one last hug after you closed the lights and exited his bedroom.

You exhaled sharply as you laid on the couch, dozens of thoughts already running through your head. It was only a matter of time until JJ would come to you asking questions and you couldn’t find one lie that would sound good enough.

You called her at some point, telling her that everything was okay and that Henry was already sleeping, and she thanked you probably for the millionth time that day.

There was that feeling in your chest back - the guilt. But you kept your voice steady throughout the whole conversation, only letting the tears out once you threw your phone somewhere on the couch.

You couldn’t even point out the exact reason why you were crying, but over the past few months you lost your control over it, not being able to shut down and stop the tears anymore. You were surprised that you even had tears left to cry.

You were so tired, but sleeping was not a possibility today, not when you weren’t alone in your apartment so that you could easily fall apart. You had to keep yourself together until the next day.

You had to stay awake so you wouldn’t have to see Emily in your dreams, only to lose her all over again the moment you would wake up.

So you went to the kitchen and poured some coffee in a mug, making yourself comfortable on the couch again as you tried searching for a decent channel on the TV.

“It’s going to be a long night”, you muttered to yourself.

You lost the battle with your eyelids around 7am, but it didn’t take more than two hours until Henry woke you up, demanding pancakes for breakfast.

It also wasn’t long until both JJ and Will arrived home, thanking you again for watching over their son, and you tiredly smiled at them.

You knew the dark circles under your eyes were obvious, so you sighed in relief when no-one commented on them. Though JJ did offer to drive you back to your apartment, you quickly said that she should enjoy her time home with her family and that you’ll be okay.

And you left before she could fight you on this.

—

“Writing letters

Addressed to the fire”

Home - you still couldn’t call it that way, but there wasn’t a better word out there for it.

As soon as you arrived, you could feel the exhaustion hit, mixed with the relief of not having to hide yourself from anyone here. You were alone again, but you’ve started to accept that this is how the rest of your life’s going to be.

Alone.

Going back into the room you’ve spent most of your time in, you crawled into bed and scrunched your face at the light that was coming through the window. You tried pulling the blanket over your head, but it wasn’t enough to shut out the light. So, in one final attempt, you buried your head under the darkness of the pillow, pretending that it was night.

Smiling to yourself, you could feel yourself falling asleep - and you were ready to see Emily again.

—

Same nightmare, same way of waking up in your sweat, your cheeks wet from tears that you didn’t acknowledge at first. You could recall it perfectly at this point, your whole body aching from suffering - you wanted nothing more than to be able to make it stop, but at the same time, you knew if you had the choice - you wouldn’t get rid of them.

Because if you stop seeing the love of your life, even in your nightmares, then it would make it too real. It would mean that you really were alone.

And you couldn’t walk through your life without Emily by your side - it was just wrong. Foolishly, a part of you was still waiting for her to come back, a part of you was still searching for her in the first seconds of your body waking up, unable to grasp the fact that she would never be there.

Would this torment be all you were going to feel for the rest of your life?

No, it was becoming too much again.

Shaking your head, you reached for your phone, being met with a few missed calls and messages…all from JJ.

“y/n, i’m coming over to check if you’re okay”, was the last message she sent you, which was over twenty minutes ago.

Great, just great.

You had no energy to get up, to try to look less messy after sleeping for who knows how long, or to pretend that you’re okay.

It was so exhausting putting on a brave face every time you talked to someone, pretending that your smile is genuine or that your arms weren’t intensively itching underneath those long sleeves.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the doorbell, suddenly starting to work on autopilot as you got up from the bed and went to the door, letting JJ in.

—

“I’m worried about you, y/n”, she sighed, looking across the room to where you were standing, “and I really think you should talk to someone about everything”.

It felt like a punch in the gut - Emily used to be that person. The one who you would tell all your fears, your struggles, your pain and she would listen to you, hold you, her soft touch dissipating every negative feeling that came in your way.

No, you couldn’t replace her.

“I don’t want to!”, you said defensively, “and I don’t need to. I’m okay”.

“Liar”, you could hear a voice inside your head.

She continued looking at you, her words full of concern.

“Henry told me about the bad guys…and he pointed out that your arms looked weird?”, she sighed, almost being scared of not phrasing her words correctly, “y/n, I’m here for you, okay? I don’t want to lose you too”, she felt like such a hypocrite to say that.

But it seemed to get to you.

Your stomach dropped.

“I just…”, you felt your eyes filling with tears, “I don’t want a therapist, JJ. I want my Emily back. Nobody else can fix what’s inside of me right now”

Her heart broke at your words, wishing that she could tell you the truth, that she could make your pain stop.

Suddenly, an idea came through her mind.

“What if…what if you could talk to her. Not in the way you would actually want, but…”, she saw the despair in your eyes as she kept going, “you could write her letters”.

“Letters?”, you looked at her confused.

“Yes. You know…putting your thoughts and feelings on a piece of paper might help you get through this”, she spoke as she got closer to you with a sad smile across her face, “and you could read them to her when you’re done. I used to talk to my sister this way”.

Now it was your turn to return the sad smile. You knew what she was talking about, and you also knew that it’s still hard for her to recall those memories. So, instead of fighting any kind of help, like you would usually do, you let her words sink in.

Letters…maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe…maybe it will help. At least you hoped so.

You didn’t want to think about the other option.

“And if you don’t want to watch the pile of letters growing, you can give them to me”, she noticed your puzzled look, “I promise I won’t read anything”, she immediately clarified, “I just think that…since letters are made to be sent, you can give them to me. I’ll store them for you”.

You had no energy to question her words or to try thinking of any other options, and you knew that she would leave faster if you just agreed to everything she was saying.

“Okay”, you let out, “I’ll do it”.

“You will?”, she happily said, hugging you, “Thank you for trying this. I hope it will help you as much as it helped me”.

“I hope so too”, you smiled at her, even though you still felt hopeless on the inside.

JJ left not too long after that, and you sighed in relief.

“Letters…”, you let your mind wander around the idea.

You knew that this was her giving you a chance before she would be insisting on therapy again, but that was a worry for later. Maybe this could help.

You hoped it would, since you were soon starting to work again, all your days off being already used.

You shook your head, the thought of Emily not being in the chair next to yours breaking your heart again.

You couldn’t do this.

Without realizing, your mind led you to the bathroom again, maintaining you on the pattern you created.

—

On your last day before going back to work, your mind was plagued with thoughts from the moment you woke up, your chest feeling heavier than before - if it was even possible.

You reflected on the possible options to quiet your mind, miserably trying to prevent your body from any more scars. But it was like you couldn’t even stand a chance against yourself as you let your tears flow on your way to the bathroom.

You steadied yourself against the sink, gripping it tightly with your hands. You fixated your eyes on the person in the mirror, every ounce of hatred roaming through your body.

“Do it”.

“No”.

“Do it”.

“No”, you say louder than the previous time.

“Just one-“

“NO!”, you screamed, punching the mirror, “No more…no more scars. You can’t hurt me anymore, I’m not afraid of you”.

Your bruised hand started trembling as you watched droplets of blood going down your fingers, and panic filled your body.

No no no no no what did I do?

You desperately ran the water and started cleaning the mess you made, bandaging it almost instinctively, which subconsciously made you hate yourself all over again.

You let yourself sink on the floor as you kept on crying, the crippling loneliness feeling like a dagger to your heart. This was not who you wished to become.

“I’m not…I’m not afraid to…to keep on living”, you tried convincing yourself, “I’m not afraid to walk this world alone”.

But it only intensified your pain, feeling like you were losing control over yourself again.

That’s when it came to you - the letters, notes, writing down everything. You didn’t even think twice about it, forcing your body to get up, frantically searching for your notebook.

Relief washed over your body as you laid your eyes on it, and soon all the darkness that crept through your mind was transferred to the words that you were writing without even thinking. Easily losing track of time, you grabbed a few papers and started creating the letter from the spilled words in your notebook, telling Emily exactly how you feel.

By the end of it, a little part of you was actually glad that she couldn’t read this - you could still imagine the pained look on her face, her beautiful eyes full of sadness. It only made the ache in your heart grow.

Glancing your eyes outside, you noticed the gorgeous mixed shades of orange and pink on the sky, and your mind immediately went to her. You couldn’t explain it, but it was like she was here, with you, and you cried from the little comfort that you felt in that moment.

Grabbing the written pages, you opened the bedroom window, for the first time sitting on her side of the bed. And you read to her everything that you’ve written with tears in your eyes, a few of them falling on the paper itself.

“I love you”, you whispered at the end, hugging the letter as if it was your connection to her. As if the gesture was somehow paving her the way back home to you.

You felt foolish, waiting for a love that would never come back.

But at least this way…you could feel a bit closer to her.

You soon made your way to JJ’s house, dropping off the letter and then going back to the apartment.

—

The last thing Emily expected was one of her neighbors handing her an envelope, fearing for the worst as she thought that her cover had been blown up.

Taking it in her hand, she thanked the lady, trying not to show the anxiety and fear through her mimics as she went back into her apartment.

Sitting at her desk, she held her breath as she carefully opened it, her fingers trembling while she unfolded the paper.

Right then her heart stopped - this was…this was your writing. She knows it too well. It was from you. It really was.

“Oh my god”, she murmured, a thousand questions roaming through her mind.

Her eyes darted on the letter, the desperation of hearing from you beating any other rational thought. She could feel each beating of her heart as she started reading.

“Dear Emily,

Is there even a proper way to start this? I don’t know. But hi, it’s me - you would’ve probably recognised my writing by now if you could read this”.

She couldn’t help the wave of tears that were welling in her eyes already, a bittersweet smile curling at her lips from how well you knew her - and how well she knew you.

“JJ suggested writing my feelings down on a piece of paper, so prepare yourself, because it’s a lot. I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling. I just know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we weren’t supposed to be torn apart like this. And then I feel like the world is laughing at me, because this is how it is, and I get no saying in this matter, just having to accept the reality that I’m living in, but I can’t”.

Guilt rushed through her body in an instant with every beating of her heart, her lip quivering from the pain that echoed from this letter — from your pain. The pain that she caused you.

“It’s weird, because on some days I am completely detached from the reality that you’re actually gone, doubting if I can bring myself to remain present in a present that has no element of you in it. I’d rather remain present in a past that has you, your smile, your voice, hoping that if I focus hard enough, it will replace this actual nightmare of a present. And there are the days when it hits me that you’re not coming back home, and I have to hold onto the pain because it’s all I have left of you. I knew that it was cruel to be so foolishly optimistic, but, in my solitude, I couldn’t resist the urge and spent entire days basking in idiotic fantasies, sometimes verging on a prayer. A prayer that I could hear the twist of your keys again, and recognise it’s you by the way you open the door, and that I would get to jump in your arms and never let you go again”.

Emily was fully crying by this point, her heart crumbling with every word that she was reading. She wished nothing more than to be able to walk through that door and right into your arms, to tell you how incredibly sorry she is, hoping you would forgive her. Hoping that you would forgive all the suffering she put you through.

”But of course, you never come. How could you? You’re not even alive. It’s not fair, you don’t know how awful it is without you. There is this hole in the world where you used to be, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime and falling at night. It’s when I realize, oh God, I am so alone. It’s happening again. I find myself wondering if it will ever stop, if this feeling will ever go away, if the loneliness will ever cease. My mind answers for me instantly, with the harshest no I’ve ever heard. And then I cry, because I don’t want to feel like this my whole life. I’m so afraid, not having a place to call home anymore. It lost its meaning the day you left, and I don’t think I’ll ever find it again”.

Tears turned into sobs, feeling like a bullet striking right through her soul as she read this paragraph, her hands trembling on the paper, struggling to not fall apart.

What has she done?

She completely destroyed the love of her life, and she couldn’t do anything but watch the aftermath of her actions.

“I wish we had more time together. I wish I knew what to do with all the love I have for you, where to put it in your absence. I miss you. I miss you so much. And I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I let the tears fall on my face as I find myself wishing to be able to be beside you just one more time, knowing it would tear me apart even more. But I would still do it, if it meant being able to see you again. I would give anything for that. I don’t know who I am anymore, without you here. It’s like you took a part of my soul with you that day and left me wandering around, trying to find the piece that will always be missing. Please come back Emily, please. I don’t want to walk this life alone”.

She clutched the letter to her chest, the desperation in your words almost taking her breath away - the torment and agony of feeling so helpless causing every part of her being to ache.

”I’m so sorry”, she whispered through her sobs, endlessly repeating it as if you could hear her.

She wished she could do more, oh how much she wished it. To book the first plane ticket back to the States and rush to you like her life depended on it, and it killed her that she couldn’t do that. To hold you and wipe your tears away, to scatter the pain inside your heart with her presence, to tell you that everything is okay and that you didn’t lose one another.

It wasn’t fair.

Almost fearful, she placed the letter back on her desk, continuing to read it.

“Is it selfish to want you to come back, despite the suffering that you went through? Maybe it is, I don’t know. I just want you here. But I know you’re in a better place, at least I’d like to think that. I was never much of a religious person, but here I find myself hoping that Heaven exists and that it’s treating your soul with nothing but kindness. I hope it’s full of peace and happiness, that you are free from the pain that you’ve endured for so long, that you can be carefree and laugh and smile, that you’re feeling everything I haven’t since I lost you. And if somehow you can hear me, I need you to know that I forgive you for breaking our promise - the promise that we’ll be together forever. I know you wanted to protect us, I know. It still hurts, I don’t think it will ever stop, but I know. And I’ll keep holding on my part, because I’ll never stop loving you. Forever and always, isn’t that what we told each other? You were my person, my everything, and I’ll never let you go, at least not from my heart. It’s always been yours. I'm going to miss you until my very last breath. But that’s why I hope that at least you are okay up there, because I never will be. I just hope that, in my freefall, the bottom won’t destroy me completely”.

“Oh, my love”, she brushed her fingers on the spots where your tears were long dried, trying not to ruin it with her own.

It has become a constant battle with her own tears, hopelessly trying to wipe them before they made their way on the tragedy-filled letter, whilst every fiber of her being wanted to scream from the top of her lungs until you could hear her, that she’s still here, living in a nightmare of her own.

The words written on this letter, she feels each and every one of them, hitting her harder as they went on, slowly destroying another little part of her. She couldn’t even feel an ounce of relief at the thought of you forgiving her, when she has hurt you irremediably so.

And even in this suffering, you wished her every wonderful thing that you could - and of course you would, she didn’t expect it to be any other way. She didn’t even know if she preferred you to be angry at her, but one thing was clear - she would have deserved it.

But you would never do that.

”Anyway, I’m going back to work tomorrow, first time without you being there, and God, I have no idea how I’m going to pull through. Without you next to me at the table, or in the car, or on the plane, or anywhere at all. I wish I could hear you say one more time that it’s going be okay and that I’m strong enough to do it, because I really don’t feel like I am. My only hope is that it will get easier over time, even if it feels like wishful thinking at the moment. Because otherwise, I don’t see things ending well for me. And I know you’d be incredibly worried if you could hear me, so part of me hopes that you’re in your little bubble of paradise and cannot hear my rambling. But if you somehow heard me, I hope you can accept my love and pain without the guilt that comes with them. And I want to finish this by saying that I love you and always will, and I’ll carry you in my heart everywhere you cannot be, through all of my days, for the rest of my life”.

Goddamnit...

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x fem!reader #jennifer jareau x platonic!reader #emily prentiss x you #angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x fem!reader #heavy angst #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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theognatster · 2 months

Text

sub! Matt headcannons

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, basically smut words, mentions of a mommy kink

a/n: I wanted to feed you guys so I decided to do this with my favorite boy Matt. Let me know if you guys want a Chris version! should I make a taglist? and if you want to be added just send me a dm or send me something in my request box!

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

- he is a whimper boy, definitely. you could be teasing him, riding him, anything and he would whimper at the slightest of pleasure

- he is a tit man, he will grab your tits when you’re riding him, and he will have no shame about it. Even if you’re just chilling next to each other, he has his hand lightly on your chest or he’ll rest his head on them.

-he will be open to majority because he trusts you dearly and knows that you know his limits, so he allows you to do basically anything to him.

-he will never finish before you, if he does he feels a sense of embarrassment even though you don’t care if he does because you want him to cum

-he loves when you ride him, not because of the pleasure (that’s a big part) but because of the view. He loves seeing your hair slightly messed up, your lips parted with sweet noises and words spilling out, your tits bouncing. He loves it, if he could he would frame the image.

-he is vocal, like he’s loud. He’s not very loud in public but privately he’s spilling out noises like there’s no one else in the world but you two. And his brothers get annoyed by it, so in order to save their ears you have to cover Matt’s mouth with your hand.

-sometimes he’ll call you mommy, usually it’s just a slip up from all of the pleasure he is getting at once. But you have a lingering suspicion that he has a liking for it.

-speaking of calling you mommy, he’ll say it (or saying that it slipped out) when you tease him and give him marks on his neck and collarbone. you don’t mind it at all, you find it quite attractive actually, seeing him go so dumb that he calls you mommy.

-as much as he loves receiving from you, he loves to give it. Matt the Munch isn’t his title for no reason. He can be between your legs for a lifetime, it’s like a gift. He enjoys it as much as you. Sometimes you notice a slight movement from his hips, he’s jerking his hips into the mattress to get some from friction.

-he is easy to overstimulate, but he’s willing to get through it for your pleasure. he hardly ever uses the safe word that you two decided on, pug. He enjoys it even though he’s begging for you to stop.

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sub headcannons #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo headcanon #Matt Sturniolo smut #Matt Sturniolo x you #sub matt sturniolo #I love sub men

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nqmonarch · 7 months

Note

Genuinely wanna hear more regarding the No Wish SAHSRAU (Is that how it's spelled?) especially with all the new events that's happened.

Including the Dr Ratio that slid into our DMs.

First, apologies for the wait I took a while doing this request and then also decided not to post anything during the Palestine strike period because free Palestine.

And man, I don't know how it's spelled. I'd assume that's right it's so long though. Also YES Dr. Ratio sliding into our DMs except bro waltzes in and calls us an idiot ;-;

But first! Let's catch up with some of the current crew who is currently in Penacony!

Warning Penacony Spoilers

For the Trailblazer Penacony's been rough... Shortly after the death of their new closest friend, they'd been coerced into talking with Aventurine, and now had to make a decision without consulting any of the Astral Express beforehand. Sure, they were a seasoned adventurer with two missions under their belt but they still have no idea about their past or if they could trust such sketchy people.

"Aventurine, that little rat..." Their ears perked up when they suddenly heard the voice of this presumed Aeon. "I want to knock my fist against his forehead and see if there's a brain in there." The Trailblazer wouldn't try that.

But if you were acting like this maybe Aventurine and Black Swan could be trusted. The Trailblazer forced themselves to relax and tried to show confidence in their eyes. They could do this. It was good you were still by their side in the dreamscape, otherwise... what would they do?

Herta has found it's more difficult to communicate with you than the Aeons. While the Aeons simply didn't want to communicate it was as if there was some sort of wall separating her from you. It was beyond fascinating but it irked her, she wanted to get into contact with you right away. Then, as she was working to implement a simulated version of you into the simulated universe as an Aeon she had a revelation. What if... this was all a game?

Natasha had done it. Recently the eyes glanced off her more often, something she couldn't help but feel disappointed at. But upon one instance when they glanced upon her, she'd taken their warmth in full, and decided to set out. It seemed when these eyes were on her, she improved in nearly every aspect, so maybe her luck would improve as well? Even though it had been a dead end many times before she investigated Vache's worn down laboratory covered by snow searching for research. Except this time, she found something. This Aeon... was strangely benevolent and caring towards mortals.

That's all the updates we have for now on the current characters, in terms of progress. Herta is one smart cookie but who else is one smart cookie? Dr. Ratio!!! That man I love him so much. Sampo is also a potential worrying addition.

Given in the current event you can get either Sampo, Guinaifen, Asta, or Yukong for free, so let's see how they react.

Dr. Ratio

...This was interesting. The plot unfurling behind the scenes of Penacony was to be expected, Aventurine was being a pain in his ass also to be expected, but an Aeon looking at him? A smart Aeon. One who also must hope to purge the world of ignorance! A noble pursuit. Or perhaps, they'd realized their own ignorance and sought to rectify it some of the Aeons were rather lackluster in this manner after all. But they'd likely never change in their ways.

And you're no longer looking at him, that's fine. Is it a bit more chilly in here or is it just him? An interesting side effect of your gaze then, the feeling of warmth. He wondered why that happened, the look of Nanook was dangerous and suffocating, near fatal for any mortal. That of Yaoshi's was said to be sickeningly sweet and suffocating as well. Nous' was cold and calculating, judging your every asset and whether or not you had potential. Everyone had potential, they just had to choose to rid themselves of their ignorance. If the gaze wasn't suffocating maybe... you were a weak Aeon? One that had just formed or had been thought to have died.

Interesting. Aeons, the topic no scholar knew completely about. Herta was researching deeply into them, Dr. Ratio supposed he could always ask her yet he didn't want to feed into her ego. There were other ways to get the information though.

Guinaifen

"Hello, hello! Can you all hear me? Good morning fam! And welcome to Little Gui's stream!"

It was then when Guinaifen suddenly felt warmth wash over her. Oh, maybe it was because this stream was her first normal one after all the ghost catching business but she found herself getting flustered...? Flattered...? She wasn't sure exactly how to describe it yet she felt even more energetic than usual! As if she could go on for hours! When she ended her stream, the warmth was still there and she still felt as if she was being watched.

Wait-- wasn't this how people said they felt when they were being watched by an Aeon? Something similar to this right?! If even an Aeon was watching her, she was definitely going to be famous! When Guinaifen went to tell Sushang about this news, she found Sushang had run into the same thing! Weren't the two of them an impressive pair? :)

E1 Asta

Research had been going smoothly, partly thanks to the eyes always observing Asta. With them came the warmth that brought confidence and innovation she felt she wouldn't feel otherwise. But, she could feel the warmth all the time now. She doubted an Aeon would be able to watch her all of the time so had she been blessed? That was good, she was able to focus on all the stars and her research more now and learn more in less time!

But... why did she feel so forlorn? As if she had been deserted? Had you just blessed her and moved on your way? Herta... Herta knew a lot about Aeons maybe she would know something about what had happened to her, maybe she would know if you're still around.

E1 Yukong

Even after it all Yukong wished to return to the skies. Despite failing her comrades, despite all those around her who she'd cared for yet failed to stop their death, despite the burning wreckage she'd had to painstakingly crawl out of. Yukong wished to fly. In this long life where even the things she'd once loved had dulled, the longing to fly was forever there.

The warmth was on her constantly now, she completed her paperwork faster, she created ingenious plans, but what did it matter?

"I want to go back," Yukong had spoken one day out to the silence of the world and when the warmth remained she realized, perhaps she could go back and fly. Maybe... it would be okay. But for now her fear remained, albeit comforted by the sight of an Aeon.

What a strange Aeon, to care so much for a mortal.

Sampo (spoiler warning for Black Swan quest, although I was kind of confused the whole time so some information may be incorrect)

Now this would be fun! Sampo had known he was right, this was only another clue in the right direction! And this Aeon, watcher, player, reader, whomever you were appeared at the perfect time! Whenever your gaze fell upon him, he could feel his speed increase as well as the rest of, if this were to be a game, his "stats." He knew he wasn't crazy, of course he'd never had that idea in the first place! He'd be able to retrieve his mask much easier now, he could deal with you later.

It wouldn't be anything bad, don't worry, Sampo Koski is always happy to have a new business partner and friend :) !

If there's anything else you wanna hear about it I'd be more than happy for ideas cause I love these little guys (the characters) . It's just them living their life except they're stronger and feel as if they can enact their dreams! And maybe they gain a friend or a small crush on the way but hey that doesn't mean anything until Penacony comes out with some tech they worked on with Herta that allows you to visit in your dreams but no way something like that will happen, right?

Also trailblazer is genuinely so stressed like imagine having to make the decisions to save an ENTIRE FUCKING PLANET and you don't even know who the you are or what you've been through, you're genuinely so lost but hey you're alive, somehow.

#hsr #reader insert #hsr x reader #self aware hsr #sahsrau #trailblazer #herta #natasha #dr. ratio #yukong #gn reader #asta #sampo #guinaifen #its kind of x reader in some spots if you squint

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fictionalwh0ree · 7 months

Note

May i please request Billie x super girly/soft reader? They were friends for years and recently started dating and everyone has always questioned their relationship since they're polar opposites? Tysm!

pink bows- billie eilish

summary: you and billie are completely different, but thats what makes you great. unfortunately, not everyone sees it that way. when some of the hate gets too much, billie knows how to comfort you. word count: 1.4k warnings: none

billie eilish was indubitably the most gorgeous girl you’d ever seen. with the perfect balance of masculine and feminine energy, the perfect balance of cocky and humble, it was hard not to fall for her. you’d known since the moment the two of you became friends that you liked her in a more than just friends way. nothing had happened between the two of you until a couple months back, and when she publicly came out, she also revealed your relationship to the world.

people had known about your friendship, her posting you frequently on her story. people always replied, saying you guys were goals, your contrast being perfect. see, while billie opted for baggy clothes and a hat, you always leaned towards a tank top and a mini skirt, or a nice dress. you always stood out by her side, especially when you wore pink, which was usually. whether it was a pink purse or some detailing on your clothes, you always had it on. you loved the support you got from her fans. they were a light amongst all the hate you received as well.

so, when billie posted a photo of you two kissing, and then when she took you to the grammy’s as her date, you expected more support than what you’d got. besides the blatant homophobia, your dissimilarity had gone from something that made you “goals” to something that got in the way of dating. you received many messages saying things like “what do they even have to talk abt?” or “they literally have nothing in common, this has to be pr.”

you focused your energy on ignoring the comments, taking moments to appreciate the supportive fans who seemed overjoyed with the announcement. when the hate seemed to slow down, billie posted you again. this time, the two of you were matching, both of you in pink tshirts. billie’s shirt was baggy and paired well with her jeans, while yours was a tighter fitting tank paired with a jean skirt. despite all the positivity, new hate comments were coming in. people accused you of trying to turn her into you, saying you were taking away from her style. this was only on one end of the scale, your dms had become flooded with death threats too.

it started to become a lot. you started to pull away from billie a little, taking a little longer to answer her messages, making excuses to not see her, avoiding being in any photos she took. you couldn’t avoid her forever, though. billie wasn’t stupid. being new to the relationship meant you were both afraid to have serious discussions, worried about how it would turn out. on your side, you were scared that billie would think you were stupid or weak for letting the haters get to you. on her side, she was scared to ask what was wrong, worried that you’d either fallen out of love with her or that she’d push you too far.

the last straw was when you finally made plans with her to go get food. she stopped in your driveway, knowing you were probably strapping your heels or running back for your keys that were adorned with a pink bow, and pulled out her phone. she didn’t even realize when you’d walked out of the house until you pulled open the car door. she looked up at you, smiling, until she took in your outfit. you were in simple jeans with a black long sleeve, basic shoes, your hair down, and no makeup. there wasn’t a hint of pink, or girliness, in your outfit. her smile faltered and she tilted her head to the side in confusion. you planted a kiss on her lips in greeting.

“hey,” you said.

“hi,” she said back, uncertainty still evident.

“whats wrong?” you asked, knowing full well what was up.

she started the car, beginning the drive before she spoke again.

“uhm, nothing,” she said, “its just… i’ve never seen you in an outfit like this.”

“do you not like it?” you asked, worried, “i-i just wasn’t feeling the pink.”

“no no, you look great baby,” billie objected, “but, you weren’t feeling the pink? i never thought i’d hear that from you.”

“does it matter?” you snapped, “we’re just going to get food. sorry i don’t wanna put on a dress and heels.”

you crossed your arms, looking out the window. you heard billie sigh and if you would’ve been looking, you would’ve seen the way she bit her lip in thought and glanced over at you, plotting her next words.

“y/n whats been up with you recently?” billie asked nervously.

“what do you mean?” you said.

“well, i don’t know, you just haven’t been yourself recently,” she took a breath, considering whether or not she’d say what had been on her mind.

“do you- do you not like me anymore or something?” she said, eyes flicking between you and the road.

“no, no, billie, thats not it. i promise,” you said, turning to face her while grabbing her hand off the console.

“okay,” she said, smiling a little out of relief, “then what is it? and don’t say nothing.”

“honestly,” you breathed out, “i was just trying to fit in with you more.”

“fit in with me more?” she asked, confused.

“i don’t know, it feels kind of stupid to say,” you confessed honestly.

“it’s not stupid, baby, i promise. just tell me,” she comforted, placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“well, ever since we went public, i’ve been getting all these comments and dms about how i’m taking away from your style when we match, and how we don’t match, and how we look like a pr stunt because i dress in pink and girly and you don’t,” you said, looking down.

“i guess i just got tired of it. i want people to see us and know we’re together, for real,” you muttered.

“y/n,” billie said, squeezing your hand, “how could you call that stupid?”

“i just shouldn’t have let the hate get to me,” you said.

“its not your fault,” she said, finally arriving at the restaurant drive through.

you sat still for a moment as she ordered the food and picked it up. she parked in the parking lot, finally looking over to you for more than a second.

“y/n, i like your style. i don’t want you to change, for me or for anyone else. part of what makes us work is that we’re different. i know its annoying having people think it isn’t real, but we know the truth, that’s what matters,” she said, taking your hand in hers and placing a kiss on the back again.

you looked at her, biting your lip shyly. you smiled slightly, trying to fight it a little, but it was hard. your cheeks were burning as you looked at her.

“there’s that pretty smile,” she cooed, smiling back at you.

“i love you,” you said.

“i love you more,” she replied, leaning over the console to kiss you on the lips.

she snagged your house keys from the cup holders in the middle, untying the pink ribbon that adorned it.

“give me your hand,” she spoke.

you offered it to her and she gently picked up your left hand, carefully tying a bow on your ring finger, making you blush harder. you quickly rooted through your own bag, finding and untying the pink bow that was on your car keys.

“give me yours,” you said.

she gave it to you, and you tied the ribbon on her ring finger, just as she had done to you, before leaning over to kiss her lips briefly. you pulled away, holding her hand and admiring the two pink bows, knowing one day those bows would become rings.

“lets go,” you said.

she pulled out of the parking lot and as she drove, you snagged a picture of your hands, one that was sure to become a wallpaper, a constant reminder of your love and how it transcends what anyone thinks.

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