#i just had a thought whilst washing up after dinner and idk I feel like the language used by both definitely does reflect actual opinions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

butterflyyeo · 3 years

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jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

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you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #han #stray kids han #stray kids scenarios #han jisung angst #han angst #stray kids imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios

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wri0thesley · 4 years

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ahem here is a self indulgent domestic nanami x reader fanfiction that i also posted on ao3. u can tell i wrote it bc i looked at nanami and said ‘that’s a man that wears sock garters and that’s very sexy of him’

routine // 3k words // nanami x reader warnings: afab reader, fem pronoun, domestic stuff, nsfw, fingering, creampie, idk pals i’m just thirsty

You don’t mind the mundane.

No, that’s not quite it. It’s not that you don’t mind the mundane – you do, when it becomes sticky and muddled and drags on and on and on. You’ve been trapped in an endless cycle like that before; allowing life to happen to you, as trade-off for simplicity. Planning things that didn’t materialise. You hadn’t realised that’s what you were doing, at the time – but looking back on it now, it’s clear as day, because it was exactly what had been happening to him.

Your life is not mundane. Your life is . . . routine.

Yes, that’s right. You stick to a schedule. You keep time. You plan things – and it’s not mundane, not any more, because this time as you stick to your routine, Nanami is right there beside you.

It’s domestic. Comfortable. Oh, you worry about him – he comes home enough times with scrapes and bruises he didn’t have before and tells you about his day, world-weary – but you also know he’s more than strong enough to withstand. You curl up next to him whilst he reads a book, or whilst you watch television. You cook for him on the few days off that he snatches for himself (though he often wraps himself around you whilst you do cook, directing you or helping. He’s a better cook than you, but you have more time than him). You drape yourself over the back of his armchair sometimes and work on the knots in his neck.

“You get too stressed,” you tell him. His lips quirk into a brief curve of a smile before they return to their usual position.

“Maybe,” he says. “But you help me with that.”

For all of the unusual things in your lives, your existence is uncomplicated. You watch weight roll off of him when he comes in through the front door and is once more safely ensconced in a little slice of home. You and he share the household duties; he’s meticulous and careful, and you admire him sometimes when you think he’s not watching for being so . . . balanced, you suppose.

(“That’s you, too,” he tells you. He shrugs. “Everyone else . . . they’re living absolute chaos. But I get to come back after I clock off, to you, and . . . this.” He gestures to the little home. It’s nothing special. It’s neat and tidy and small and the two of you have reasonable savings in the bank. Responsible. You think he keeps you balanced, too.)

But . . .

Well. He’s not always so in-control.

He hadn’t sounded harried when he’d called you. He doesn’t often; instead, his voice had been calm. You know Nanami well enough to know when there’s frustration bubbling under the surface, but his tone had been smooth.

“I’ll be home late,” he’d said. “Don’t wait up.”

“Overtime?” You’d asked, already looking at the pot boiling on the stove and wondering if it could be salvaged for tomorrow’s dinner. Nanami had paused, and then sighed.

“Mm.”

You don’t let yourself worry too much. Nanami handles whatever is thrown at him – he’s always in control, poised. . . The most you see him frustrated is from calls from Gojo in the middle of the night.

You put your own phone away. There’s no use in concern yet, you tell yourself.

You don’t start to worry until you crawl into bed without having heard from him. This is late, even for him. You try not to let your anxiety eat away at you as you close your eyes and lay your head on the pillow, but the scent of him permeates every part of your bedroom. One of his shirts hangs loosely on the back of the wardrobe door. The drawer on his side of the bed that contains a collection of novelty ties (bought by you, because you’d thought they were funny – and Nanami had smiled at the first one, and laughed at the second, so you just hadn’t stopped) is still half-open from him rifling through it this morning.

The click of a key in the front door makes you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. The sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards, a familiar, steady cadence, makes you let go of sheets you hadn’t realised you were clutching.

Nanami’s head rounds the door.

“You’re late,” you tell him.

“I am,” he affirms. He steps into the room proper and you see that his shirt-sleeves are rolled up, and there’s a splash of blood on his left shoulder. He probably was in more bother than he let on, then. You don’t think it’s his blood, at least. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

You sag. You know it’s part and parcel of what he does – and so, you move in the bed from where you’ve unconsciously pressed yourself into his side to breathe in the familiar scent of him. You know Nanami doesn’t miss you’ve done it – he comes to sit on the edge of the bed as he meticulously undoes his tie.

He reaches over to you and cups your cheek in his hand, his fingers warm and calloused.

“How about I make it up to you?” He asks, and you sigh as he breaches the gap and kisses you. Everything about his kiss is familiar and comforting – you’re pressing back against him before you even think about it, hand coming to tangle in the neatly combed hair. He tastes like coffee, and it makes your eyes open against the kiss and check the time. It’s late. Nanami generally prefers to be sleeping by now. You'd once laughed and told him he was boring, and he'd raised his eyebrows and smiled as he'd told you that sleep was important. After spending the night wrapped around him, your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart - you'd been inclined to agree.

“Aren’t you tired?” You murmur, breaking the kiss yourself. Nanami quirks an eyebrow at you. The hand still on your face brushes across your cheekbone tenderly. You don’t think anyone who works with Nanami imagines him like this – messy-haired, half-undressed, his stoic composure gone to softness. Every time he even half-smiles, your heart feels like it will ricochet out of his rib-cage, but when he looks at you now you get the full thing.

“Too tired for you? Never.” He shifts on the bed, shrugging off his suspenders along with the stained shirt. He’ll do that laundry himself – he always does, when it’s bloodstains. “Besides,” he breathes as his hands move to stroke over your shoulders, his breath tickling the junction where your neck and collarbone meet and making you shiver. “I still have plenty of energy to work off before I can get to sleep peacefully.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I’d hate to be the reason you don’t get a fulfilling night’s rest—”

The bed covers are swept off of you. When Nanami has made up his mind to do something, he does it – and right now, it appears what he’s made up his mind to do is you. His hands are big on your hips, sliding up the loose shirt of your pyjamas. You let out a soft huff of breath as he pushes them up over your breasts that makes him lean in and kiss your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. Your fingers flex on his shoulders as he cages you underneath him.

“Oh,” he promises against the skin. “When we’re done, I’ll rest very easy.”

You lose the shirt just as quickly as Nanami lost his, and then you both stop talking. Nanami is the kind of man who doesn’t use a hundred words when one or two will do – he’s happy to have conversations, when conversation is the name of the game . . . but conversation is not the name of the game when his mouth is busy kissing your neck, your throat, your collarbone . . . When his lips are wrapping around your nipple and teasing it to a hardened point until you moan aloud.

In the pit of your stomach is heat and fire and need. When Nanami moves against you and your thighs press together, you can already feel that you’re slick and warm with the promise of what is still to come – and when Nanami, too, moves, you can tell that he’s looking forward to things just as much as you are.

His thumbs hook into the shorts of the nightwear set you were wearing. The fear of less than an hour ago seems to have dissipated in the wind – it’s hard to remember how worried you were when Nanami comes home fired up like this. He drags the fabric down your thighs, tsk-ing at how they catch.

“A nightgown or shirt would be more efficient,” he tells you. “You’re welcome to one of mine.”

Your cheeks heat up at the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts, and Nanami doesn’t miss how your skin warms underneath him. You’re so cute. He kisses you again so he doesn’t embarrass himself, this time peeling off your underwear (the thin cotton clings to your damp sex and your breath hitches at how it feels, peeling away).

“Are you going to tell me it’d be more efficient if I weren’t wearing them?” You say, your voice coming out low and husky.

“I’d be right if I did,” he tells you, but he’s far more preoccupied with the button and zip of his trousers. You reach over to help him with it, your hand brushing the hot, hard length of him through the fabric – you always forget just how big he is until you’re confronted once more. Your body gives a low throb of arousal, a reminder that the need inside of you requires sating sooner rather than later.

Nanami is patient. You are not.

There. The zip, the button – and Nanami is pulling off the fabric, leaving it too in a pool by the side of the bed that you know he will probably manage to get into the wash basket before it ever crosses your mind. He’s still wearing socks and sock garters, and whilst normally you’d laugh at him and make him take them off before he got into bed . . .

Well. There are more important things to think about right now, and you can’t deny that the sock garters are endearing.

His cock brushes against your thigh and you start, a soft noise escaping your lips that makes him look down at you tenderly. He tips his head to the side in a silent question and you nod in a silent answer – his fingers push your thighs further apart, sinking into plush flesh, stroking along the slick outer lips of your sex--

His knuckle brushes the swollen bundle of nerves of your clit and you sigh, your hips bucking up for more of the friction. You know that this is just him being kind – a precursor to the main event – but you still can’t help but greedily seek out more and more of him. He clicks his tongue again.

“You’re so impatient sometimes,” he chides, though his cock hard and hot against your skin is just as impatient as you are. He slides one of his fingers inside you, your walls clinging tight to the digit. He pumps it in and out of you, once, twice – and then, a second finger is inside you, stretching you out. One of your hands twists into the sheets as you helplessly let him fuck into you with his fingers. You know that he’s doing it in preparation for fucking you – he often does – but it doesn’t mean that you’re any less impatient for the main event.

“You’re teasing me,” you tell him, breathlessly. He smiles, more to himself than to you.

“I suppose so,” he replies. He’s enjoying it. You know he is – tension is draining from his shoulders the more he looks at you, the fingers still plunging in and out of you growing more lax and liquid in their movements. The sound of him inside you is lasciviously loud in your bedroom. You don’t mind helping him work out his tension – whether with cuddling up to him, or cooking together, or massaging the knots from his back – but you do mind when he teases you--

“Please,” you say, breathlessly, your hips rocking in time with his hand. He can never resist it when you’re polite.

His fingers come out of you with an audible slick noise.

“You’re ready, anyway,” he murmurs. He absent-mindedly places the two fingers that were buried inside you against his tongue, tasting you – your cheeks are hot again at the way he tips his head back, savouring the taste of you. Just another little moment of intimacy. It’s not unusual, but that doesn’t make it feel any less erotic.

He cradles you like you’re something precious as he settles heavy between your thighs. His hands on your hips are certain. There’s a warmth about Nanami that few people are privileged enough to see – one you’re privileged enough to see every night and every morning, when he wakes up next to you sleep-tousled or comes in and leaves a warm package from your favourite bakery in front of you that he picked up on his way home.

You breath through the initial sting as he stretches you out on him, and then there is nothing but the pleasure of being filled. You feel yourself mould to his cock inside you, your walls snugly accepting him, hot and wet around his shaft. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and as he bottoms out inside of you, for a moment you two are joined entirely. You can feel his heart beating against yours.

“I love you,” you breathe, against the shell of his ear. He kisses at your neck in return, his voice very soft as he returns the affirmation of one of his own. He is not one for sappy declarations – he is a man of small acts of service. Still. He speaks it against your skin and it feels like a tattoo on your heart.

“I love you too.”

After that, neither of you speak. Instead, you concentrate on Nanami’s powerful hips as they roll against you, his cock brushing the sensitive spots of your wall, stoking the flame inside of you that’s been steadily burning since the moment he untied his tie. You concentrate on moving your own body in tandem with his, the squeeze of your channel around him, the way that he grinds himself just so against your clit with every thrust so that your body feels fizzing with unreleased promise.

His mouth against your collarbones and neck. Your nails digging into his shoulders. He’s well-built despite seeming nondescript in his suit and tie – you’re heart-achingly familiar with the taut muscle making up his arms and backs. The places he’s scarred, even after being healed up.

You can hear him breathing heavier and heavier against your ear as his peak nears. Your own is rushing up on you, as Nanami’s hips begin to rock quicker and quicker, his cock plunging impossibly deep into you with every drive. You think, for a wild moment, he’s going to come first, despite the fact he’s always been nothing but the gentleman in control of himself no matter how many times the two of you become one--

And then, the hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach becomes overwhelming and bursts into pieces, wet heat soaking you, waves of pleasure lapping at you as your body shakes and constricts around him. Everything is so hot. His body above yours is burning, warm, needful--

Your nails have dug into his skin hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks, but Nanami is chasing his own release now, his eyes clouded with lust as he looks down at you. Aftershocks of your own orgasm make your channel pulsate around him--

You’re tender as you pull him down by the neck and kiss him, teeth worrying at his bottom lip – and he groans into your mouth at the same time as you feel his cock inside you twitch, and the heat of his come fill you. That’s not a problem. You’ve talked about that plenty of times – both of you agree that you’re happy the way you are. Children are dangerous.

. . . But it’s nice to feel claimed by him. Nice to have him rest hot and heavy inside you, like a marker of his affection even as he’s pulling out of you and leaving you full and heavy and sticky. He smooths kisses onto your brow. He doesn’t murmur sweet words against you, but you know he’s thinking them if only from the way he holds you and the way that his hands dance over your skin like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are; and he is to you, though neither of you say it aloud. In the sanctity of the quiet bedroom, though, both of you know it as an absolute fact.)

He’s breathing heavy as he sits on the edge of the bed again, reaching down to undo his sock garters and remove the socks themselves. The tell-tale rustle of clothing and slam of the drawers on his side of the bed tell you he’s neatly folding the dirtied garments and getting out something to wear in bed himself.

“Are you tired now?” You ask him. Nanami turns his head to look at you, and you can see the tell-tale sign of shadows under his eyes.

“Yes,” he says. You laugh, and the sound seems like pealing bells to him. You wrap an arm about his waist and pull him against the bedsheets, curling a leg over his, wrapping yourself around him in an embrace that he at first resists before leaning into.

“It’s easier if you don’t get dressed.” You mumble against his neck, as you nestle yourself into the crook of his shoulders. Nanami uses one arm to pull up the bed covers he stripped from you earlier. “More . . .” You stifle your own yawn. “More efficient, if we decide to waste time in the morning.”

The covers wrap around both of you, the wrinkled clothes forgotten (Nanami will tut at himself in the morning, but for now, he’s enjoying your body so close to his).

“Time with you,” he says softly, “is never wasted time.”

#writing #not jojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #not sfw #i am not a multi fandom blog.... YET!!!!#jjk posting #jjk writing tag

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orionwhispers · 4 years

Text

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals.

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

a house on the beach (g.w.)

prompt: a little beach getaway makes you grateful for all that you have.

pairing: george weasley x fem! reader

warnings: food, mention of the war, mention of Fred’s death, mention of children

word count: 2.2k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley @freddie-weaselbee @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3 @valwritesx @sweeterthansammy @loonylovegood13 @lostaurorax

Excitement overwhelmed your senses as you dropped your bag to the floor of the house, running to the back porch and down the stairs, ignoring George’s calls, too desperate to feel the sand underneath your feet. You pried your shoes off from the long drive and plunged them into the warm sand as you sighed out with a happy giggle. The sand covered your skin as you smiled to yourself, giving your toes a wiggle before walking, more running, over to the salty ocean water.

The moment your toes touched the water, relief and relaxation flooded over you, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the echos of birds chirping sounded down the beach. The smell of salty air and sun cream filled your nose as you inhaled happily, finally in the place that made you happy. The early summer sun beat down on your skin, warming you through your t-shirt as you extended your arms, embracing the sensations that washed over you like the waves.

George watched you from the porch, how you happily danced in the water, waving your hands, inviting you to join him. He smiled to himself with a sigh before taking off his own shoes, joining you on the shore.

As he walked to you, he watched how the breeze moved through your hair, making it dance, as you kicked your feet in the blue water, giggling to yourself. You were unearthly, standing there in your radiance with a beaming smile on your face. George’s heart swelled in his chest as he looked upon you with love in his eyes and adoration in his heart.

When he reached you, he slipped his fingers in yours and placed a soft kiss to your lips, tilting your chin up with one of his fingers to reach your lips. “Happy?” he asked with a teasing grin on his lips as you beamed and nodded.

“Thrilled,” you giggled. “Isn’t this nice? Much needed getaway for the both of us, don’t you think?” you combed your fingers through his hair, already crunchy with sea breeze.

This holiday was unprompted, but with the booming business of the joke shoppe and your overwhelming work schedule, you both decided a getaway was much needed for the both of you. Just a quiet weekend with the two of you, enjoying some peace and quiet together. An escape to the beach seemed like the perfect place to do so considering it was one of your favorite places in the world. And George would do anything to see that smile on your face that he loved so much.

George placed a kiss to your forehead, “Much needed.” He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you and rested his chin on the top of your head as the two of you stood and stared out at the ocean, watching the waves rise and fall and crash. You could stand there forever, in your lover’s arms, enjoying each other’s company whilst the ocean washed upon your ankles and toes every once in awhile. You sighed in contentment, not needing much more in this moment.

After about an hour of standing and walking up and down the beach, the two of you decided to unpack your overnight bags, settling yourself in the rental house. As you unpacked, you looked out the window, smiling to yourself. Right in front of the bed was a large window that faced the ocean. “Georgie?”

“Yes, my love?” he responded sweetly, looking up at you from the dresser, making your heart pitter-patter in your chest as his sweet chocolate eyes peered at you.

You nodded your head to the window. “I know I said we should sleep in this weekend, but I think we should get up for the sunrise tomorrow. We can watch it from the bed,” you suggest with a playful smile on your lips. Godric knows the two of you needed to sleep in, but the thought of watching an orangey sunrise from the bed sounded heavenly.

He gave a light chuckle before speaking, “Sounds like a plan. As long as we can go back to bed after.” You nodded excitedly which only made George laugh and walk over to you, taking you in his arms as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I’m glad I have you all to myself this weekend. No work, no distractions, no nothing. Just us.”

“I am, too,” you cooed back at him as he pressed his lips to yours gently, your kiss familiar and gentle. You could be hours away from shared flat, but wherever you were with George, that’s when you felt the most at home. In his arms, him holding you tight and not daring to let you. Gentle kisses pressed to lips, foreheads, and jaws, whispered I love you’s, and small giggles exchanged. This was your heaven.

The day was spent well. Laying in the sand, George’s head in your lap as you brushed his hair with one hand, the other holding a book as George closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sounds of the ocean and the sensation of you combing fingers through his hair. Every once in awhile, you lay your book down on the sand and just breathe in the salty air as the sun shone down on your skin. You smiled to yourself when you looked down at George, resting peacefully in your lap, sun cream smeared on his nose and under his eyes, making you gently giggle. He insisted he burned easily as he smeared the thick paste on his nose, refusing to blend it in. You shook your head and pressed a kiss to his freckled forehead, leaning back on your hands, sand flowing between your fingers.

The beach was empty, you and George being the only people on the beach for as far as your eye could see. It was nice, knowing that no one could disturb your peaceful getaway. Much needed after the last few years and the chaos that had weaseled its way into your lives. Some peace and quiet is exactly what you needed.

George eventually woke from his nap and insisted to go on a walk down the beach which you gladly accepted. His fingers laced with yours as you walked along the shoreline, water dancing over your feet now. George would groan each time the water caught the bottoms of his cuffed jeans, making you laugh. You looked at George with so much adoration in your eyes as he walked beside you. A shirtless wonder, his dark wash jeans hanging low on his toned body, one of his hands holding his shoes, the other cradling your hand as he pressed a kiss to it every few seconds, reminding you he was there. You’d smile sweet as you leaned over to press a kiss to his sun chapped lips.

Jokingly, George kicked over water so it splashed on you as you squealed, the cold water hitting your exposed skin. “Don’t you dare, George Weasley,” you warned him as he laughed before doing it yet again, making you break out in a run away from him, darting down the beach. But George of course wasn’t too far behind as you giggled, running away from him as he chased after you.

“Not so fast, you,” he laughed before scooping you up in his arms, peppering your face with kisses as you wildly laughed, writhing in his grip. His strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight as you threw your head back with laughter, George taking the opportunity to place kisses all over your jaw and neck. “Can’t get away from me that easily.”

Back at the house, you and George munched on takeout as you two draped yourselves on the couch, soft music playing in the background. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence, eating your food, listening to the gentle music, legs tangled as you rested on opposite sides of the couch. As the two of you finished your dinner, George broke the silence with a quiet question. “You think we’ll have a boy or a girl first?” he asked, wiping his mouth with a crinkled napkin.

You furrowed your brows. You and George often spoke of your future, but usually about where you would move or marriage. Never really about kids. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” George smiled. “Our kids. Which do you think we’ll have first?”

With a smile, you placed your empty plate on the coffee table and scooted closer to George, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his hands on your hips with a small smile. “Well,” you think, searching your mind, “I don’t mind which we have first. As long as the baby is happy and healthy.”

George smiled and placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. “What names do you like?” he asked, rubbing small circles on your hip bones, smiling gently.

“For a girl...I like Giselle or Emilia,” you smiled to yourself. You had always loved those two names for your baby girl, having them in your memory since you were a fifth year. George nodded his head in agreement. “For a boy...” you trailed off as you thought. When selecting a name for your future children, you wanted to pick a name you liked, but also something with meaning. Something with significance. And that’s when it hit you. “...if it’s alright with you, G,” you started, “I’d want to name our son after Fred.”

The mention of his twin’s name tugs at George’s heart strings. Memories of his twin flood his mind and bring warmth in his chest. George missed his other half every day and it only grew. Coping with Fred’s death was brutal for George and he was thankful that he had you next to him every step of the way. Each day got a little easier, but each day he missed him more and more. George swallowed thickly before giving a shaky sigh, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You cupped George’s cheek and brushed it softly with your thumb as he sighed, leaning into your touch. With a small smile, he bit down softly on your thumb, making you giggle lightly. “Where are we living?” you change the subject as George runs his fingers through his hair.

“Somewhere with lots of space,” he smiled. “I want the kids to have space to run and play like we did as kids,” he beamed as you smiled to yourself, combing fingers through his hair, making him melt underneath your touch. “Not too close to the shoppe, but not too far away. Somewhere just right,” he smiles softly. “Just me, you, and our nine kids,” he pokes at your sides, making you roll your eyes and laugh.

Even though you rarely spoke about children, you knew that George wanted a large family. He wanted a house full of children, loudly stomping around, filling the house with love and laughter that reminded him so of his own childhood. George wanted to have a family, you the mother of his children and the love of his life by his side. George thought about you as a mother and how loving you would be towards your future children. It made his chest warm and his cheeks red with delight.

“Well, if we’re having nine children, we’re going to need more names,” you tease him as he chuckles, placing a kiss to your chin. “So, we’ve got the house, we’ve got the kids, what else is in store for us?” you gently smile as George gives your hips a squeeze.

He thinks for a moment before a toothy grin appears on his face. “I’m going to get us a house like this one,” he suggests as you furrow your brows. “I’m going to get us a house on the beach.” But before you can interrupt him with how you both didn’t need a house like this, he starts, “You love the beach, angel. The look on your face when we first got here was priceless. I want to get you a house like this so you can feel like that whenever you want.”

Your heart swells with so much love as you sigh happily, brushing George’s cheek with your thumb. George wanted to give you the world and he would do it with a grin on his face and pep in his step. You knew growing up he didn’t have much, so the fact that he was so adamant on giving you and your future family a life he didn’t have made your heart melt. “Georgie...” you sigh.

“I want to give you the life you deserve,” he speaks simply with sincerity.

Taking his face in your hands, you place a firm kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead against his. “The life I want is a life with you,” you tell him. “I don’t need anything else, George. Just you and me.” George smiles lightly before placing one, two soft kisses on your lips. “I don’t need a house on the beach. You’re my beach,” you giggle.

He chuckles, “I like that. I’m like the sand. I get everywhere and you can’t get rid of me.” His comment makes you laugh as he cuddles closer to you, wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you further into his lap.

#Fred and George #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley #george weasley x #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley x reader imagine #george weasley x fem #george weasley x femreader #george weasley x fem! reader #george weasley x fem reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine

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seacottons · 4 years

Text

reaper ; — k.hj x reader

pairing: hongjoong x reader, platonic wooyoung x reader

wc: 5k

notes: i guess this is horror? pft. idk. mild violence. set in the late 80s? early 90s? technology isn't prevalent here so- yeah. probably needs to be proofread but i'm too sleepy as of now. maybe tomorrow. also, happy hongjoong day 🤍

synopsis: after an accident leaves three of your friends dead and one in a coma, you and wooyoung struggle with living expenses and piling medical bills. in the midst of it all, you’re stalked by strangers who resemble your deceased friends.

"Bad day at the tavern, Woo?" You asked, arms wrapping around the black-haired man who stood over the stovetop. A gentle fire simmered the stew he was cooking, a thin sheen of oil and spices pooling on the surface. He nodded with a grim frown and tight jaw, shoulders tense as he stirred a ladle into the pot.

"Got in a fight with some asshole who thought he didn't have to pay for shit," he grumbled back. You frowned at the sight of a bruise on his jaw, and he caught your gaze before scoffing incredulously.

"Don't look at me like that. This is nothing," he quipped hastily, voice thin with resignation.

"I think I have some leftover ointment for that," you sighed, turning away to fetch the item. After dinner, the two of you sat in silence as you tended to his bruises and cuts, your brows furrowing into a glare as you wrapped his finger with scraps of linen you managed to find," You should be more careful with people like that."

"We need the money," he retorted gently, "Mr. Lee would've taken it out of my paycheck if I had let the guy go without paying."

"At the expense of you getting hurt?" He ignored the glare you sent his way.

"We need every silver coin and more right now, y/n," he exhaled softly, leaning back against the old headboard of your bed, "Yeosang's medical bills aren't getting cheaper, and we promised the landlord we'll pay her this month." He groaned, reaching up to massage his temple with a tight frown, "And I can't keep making you work two shifts every day. I see the toll it's having on you."

"I told you I'm fine," you gave him a hard stare, defensively crossing your arms above your chest, "We both work overtime, so it won't be fair of me to just throw all the responsibility on you."

He gave you a tired smile, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed back a reply. Bringing you into his arms, he placed a gentle kiss onto your temple, before cradling your head against his chest while laying down, "I'll always be grateful to still have you with me."

Wooyoung sleeping in your bed alongside you became a silent agreement of some sort months ago when he couldn't bear to sleep alone in the other room he and Yeosang shared. Since then, the two of you found comfort in each other's arms, so much so that it became difficult to sleep without the warmth of his arms wrapped securely around your frame every night.

You sat in a comfortable silence, eyes closed as you relaxed back in your seat while holding Yeosang's delicate hand. The occasional beep of the IV machine and other monitors filled the air of the small room. You peek one eye open to look at Wooyoung, his back turned to you as he gazes out of the window. Neither of you speak for a while.

"You really think the doctor's words are guaranteed? That he'll wake up soon?"

You watched from your spot as Wooyoung leaned over the blonde-haired male, his hands brushing the hair away from his closed eyes. He appeared to be in a very deep and peaceful slumber.

"Yeah. I'm sure–.. I know he will. Things will get better for all of us," he drawled out tiredly, a soft smile finding itself onto his visage as he turned to gaze at your hand grasping Yeosang's limp one, eyes puffy from his crying session last night, "I know it."

An hour later, a nurse peeks her head in to politely state that you two have exceeded your visiting time. The two of you bid your friend farewell and left the hospital.

"I'm actually going to run by the cemetery real quick before my shift starts," you explained while walking down the road with the other by your side, half frozen autumn leaves crunching beneath your boots.

Wooyoung pulled you into a tight hug, hand reaching up to tussle your locks, "Alright, please be careful. I'll see you later, alright?," he readjusted the scarf around your neck with his gloved hands, "We'll have fried fish tonight, your favorite. Don't overwork yourself at work again!"

Tears nearly welled in your eyes, knowing fully well behind his cheerful demeanor hid a scared and tired being. The unspeakable pain behind his eyes killed you on the inside. He overworked himself both physically and mentally, and you can only wish you can rid some of the burden off of his shoulders.

You were just as hurt by the circumstances that the both of you were in, but watching his mental health erode with each day was A lump formed in your throat, and instead of replying, you merely flashed him a smile, not trusting your voice.

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek only to laugh as he flinched away from your freezing lips, your laughter escaping as puffs of white in the frigid air. You bid him farewell and waved back as the two of you separated.

The low mist enshrouding the cemetery did very little to bring warmth in the early hours of the morning. Your hands absentmindedly brushed along the dew covered grass as your eyes fixated onto the inscription on one of the three tombstones.

Where there are flowers, there are butterflies.

"It's your birthday next month, Joong," you muse to the grave in front of you, "I'll make sure to spend the day here with you and the others when the time comes."

You adjusted your position on the grass, the gentle beams of sunlight sparkling in the beads of dew around you. Sitting cross legged, you reminisced the times you spent with the male and the other two friends that shared his fate.

"Wait— how come you get to be the flower? You should be the butterfly instead," you whined whilst poking his cheek.

With a playful quirk of his brow, he reached up to lightly flick your forehead before pulling you closer for a gentle kiss, "You're the butterfly, because you always bug me, baby."

You smiled to yourself at the memory, reaching down to admire the various flowers that have finally bloomed on Hongjoong's grave. Similar blossoms and flowering vines were planted and grown onto the other two graves to the right.

"I miss you so much."

You startled at the sight of a small butterfly fluttering over your head, only to smile once it landed on the purple blossom. You stilled your frame in fear of scaring it off, and watched as it flapped its blue wings subtly.

A small lizard peeked through the gaps of leaves, sharply and swiftly clamping its mouth onto the butterfly. It struggled to keep the bug in its mouth, its head shaking rapidly as the insect wriggled in its hold. Moments later, the bug stilled and the lizard scampered off with its prey.

You stood up, shoulders slumping as you gave the three graves a smile and a wave, "See you guys tomorrow. I love you."

You tightened the sweater around your frame as you made yourself out the gates of the cemetery, sighing in annoyance at the lingering and dense fog. It was difficult to even make out the next tree as you made your way back to town. You faintly hear the sound of a crow's caw in the distance and peer down onto the ground as you feel a tremor beneath your feet. Your head snapped up in time to have a large vehicle's headlights reflect in your wide eyes.

You somehow couldn't quite grasp what day it was, or even what happened at work earlier. Your head spun as if you had just awoken from a drunken stupor.

The sun had set and the moonlight washed the town with a silvery blue hue. Flames flickered within the numerous lampposts and pebbles crunched beneath your feet as you walked through the familiar cobblestone path back home. The streets were deserted. Many buildings were left with shattered windows, small plants and moss growing in the most delicate fissures on their walls. Plastered advertisements and papers on the walls and lampposts looked withered and aged, drooping forward and swaying with the gentle breeze. It was quite an odd sight to see. The once boisterous town strangely felt like a ghost town.

You shrugged off the ominous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach as you trudged along back home.

Along the way, you crossed the hospital where Yeosang was kept. You peeked back to glance at the building, your eyes immediately catching sight of a figure who stood behind a third story window. Furrowing your brows, you turned around to continue walking, the sight of the stranger leaving a bitter feeling in your heart.

The male had the same patch of silver hair as—

Suddenly, your feet came to a halt and you turned back frantically, but the figure was gone. In its place, the blue curtain of Yeosang's room swayed gently with the wind.

Shaking your head, you continued your path whilst rubbing your tired eyes.

"I probably just had a long day," you explained to nobody.

In the distance, there crouched a dark figure, his hands caressing the top of a stray cat's head. You met eyes with the stranger moments later, and you paused in your tracks, your heart dropping down to the floor and leaping into your throat almost simultaneously.

"San?" the figure's lips stretched into a wide grin at your acknowledgement, before he stood up straight to face you. Your legs shook and threatened to give under the sudden weight of your body, "San? Is that really you?"

"Long time no see, y/n."

He silently nodded, arm extending to beckon you forward with a small smile. You took a small step forward, brows furrowing in confusion, "But this can't be you. You're dead."

"Your eyesight is still horrible, I see," he drawled out with a roll of his eyes. You stood inches away from him, eyes widening in disbelief. He sounded like and resembled your late friend with a terrifying accuracy. With a trembling hand you reached forward to cup his cheek, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"You're..," you trailed off, eyes briefly glancing to your right at the reflection of the store glass window. Your reflection grasped at nothing but thin air, and you quickly retracted your hand from his face, eyes wide, "You're not real, are you?"

In an instant, the bright smile vanished and his gaze hardened into a dark expression. He silently bore holes into your head as a gentle breeze swayed his ebony and silver locks over his eyes. You took two hesitant steps back, and a blur of black flew towards you at an inhumane pace, your back roughly slamming onto the cobblestones underneath you.

Your brain scrambled to process what had just happened, eyes widening as San gripped your two wrists above your head with one hand, the other reaching down to wrap his lithe fingers around the column of your neck to squeeze hard. You released a pained cry, face contorting into a harsh wince. The heel of his palm dug painfully in the middle of your clavicles.

With eyes wide as saucers, you frantically kicked at your heels, hitting his frame repeatedly in an attempt to escape his clutches. Your attempt was futile as he released a growl, eyes practically slits as he seethed down at you, his grip tightening at an unbelievable level.

You wheezed, mouth falling open as you choked out his name, before furiously and blindingly sending a stomp onto his crotch repeatedly, your other leg jutting high to kick at his shoulder. It loosened his grip just enough for you to wriggle away, knees buckling as you attempted to stand up, heels kicking at the floor as you scrambled up, desperately trying to create as much distance as possible.

His eyes spoke of unfathomable fury as he regained his composure, taking two big strides to reach you.

Hastily rising to your feet, you dove in an alleyway and into the dark, mind not even processing your whereabouts as you quickly attempted to flee.

Your mind was in shambles as you ducked past clothes lines and the multiple abandoned carts near one of the taverns by the tea shop you worked at.

Turning around another corner, you collided with a strong chest, and you stumbled back at the sight of San's dark eyes peering down at you with a miffed expression. You gasped, face draining of color and chest heaving as you stumbled back and away from him. His chest rose with heavy breathing, brows knitted together furiously as he scurried after you.

"Y/n, y/n," he tsked in amusement, voice chiming like he was singing a song, "Come back, I just want to talk!"

Minutes later, the sound of his heavy footsteps ceased, but you did not have the time or courage to look back to see if he was still following you. You scrambled through dark alleyways, turning around every other corner, heart beating frantically in your ears and weak legs threatening to give way under your weight.

Tears prickled your eyes, and a sob threatened to escape your throat as you practically threw yourself against the frame of your door, fingers frantically reaching down to pull out the key from your pouch. From the corner of your eye, you spotted San madly dashing out from an alleyway to reach you, his voice growling out your name.

"Why are you running away?" He mocked, brows quirking up, "I thought we were good friends?"

Your trembling hands scrambled to unlock your door, hastily clambering in and throwing your entire weight to close it shut. A heavy weight from the other side thudded against the wooden frame, and your hands shook whilst reaching up to slide the chain into place. A loud gasp left your lips as the door jerked open slightly, the thin chain straining under the weight that threatened to break it.

"I'm hurt, y/n," a laugh escaped the man from the other side as he lodged his foot in between to keep the door ajar, voice rising as he attempted to shove himself in once more, "Don't you miss me?"

"Leave me alone!"

A hand shot from the gap of the door to clamp around the chain, rattling it viciously, as his other arm bent at an awkward angle to coil his fingers around the side of your neck, "Come out, y/n. I just want to talk," he chimed.

A sudden surge of strength overtook your frame and you threw your weight forward, successfully ramming the door shut against his arms. You expected to hear a cry of pain, but a chime of laughter sent a chill down your spine. With furrowed brows, you repeated the action, slamming the door continuously onto his hands and fingers, the sounds of bones and tendons snapping making you cry out in anguish.

Your hands trembled as you quickly locked the door with the key, stumbling back onto the floor as the knob shook threateningly. The door and chain rattled under the heavy kicks the male delivered from the other side, The impact of his frame against the other side shaking the door slightly. You fell onto your bottom, wobbly knees finally giving in, hands clutching your gaping mouth, and tears silently streaming down your face. You can practically feel the smile in his words, "It's okay. You'll come out eventually."

The dark shadow of his figure disappeared moments later.

When you woke, you weren't exactly sure when or how you fell asleep. You couldn't quite grasp the memories of the night prior. Sitting up, you emit a disoriented groan before realizing you weren't in your bedroom, but rather in the waiting room in the hospital Yeosang resided in. Peering around in confusion, you took account of the night sky, brows furrowing as you scrambled to find the nearest clock. It was well past midnight and visitors weren't even allowed at this ungodly hour.

The room was vacant, and you couldn't make out any figures of the receptionists through the pebbled sliding-windows. Your hand grasped the doorknob of the entrance door, only for you to sigh in frustration after finding it locked. You turn to the other side of the room only to find the door to the main halls of the ICU left ajar ever so slightly.

You called for any doctor or nurse, but you were met with silence. After much contemplating, you decided to make your way through the long corridors of the hospital, your steps reverberating throughout the empty halls. Where are the attendants, and why is a place like the ICU empty?

If you were stuck in here, you might as well stay in your friend's room. The lights from the mounted sconces petered out against the wall and casted the hallway with a warm glow.

After much turning and walking, you reached the end of the hall, hand reaching for the doorknob when the hallway lights wavered for a second. You peered to the side in confusion, before entering the room, only to stop after a step.

The room was empty, the sheets on the bed untouched and perfectly made. A hiss of air from the corridor startled you, and just as you snapped your head back, the lightbulb above you flickered rapidly before it shattered along with the windows, showering your shocked form with glass shards.

The room was engulfed in darkness, save for the streaks of moonlight filtering past the curtains. You jostled up from where you fell from shock, legs feeling useless as you crawled back out of the room with trembling limbs. Not wanting to look back, you clutched the wall for support before hastily speeding through the endless turns of the hallway.

Corner after corner, panic settled through your system because these were definitely not the same hallway layouts you remembered and memorized like the back of your hand. They were endless and vacant, and you felt like a helpless little mouse in a vast maze. As you quickened your pace into a panicked dash, the windows and light sconces on the wall flickered and shattered with every step you took, and you hastily covered your head and face from the flying glass.

This isn't real, you thought. It can't be real.

"Y/n!"

You froze in your spot, breath caught in your throat as you clamped a hand over your mouth to swallow back a scream threatening to slip past your lips. Did you hear correctly, or was that part of your imagination?

"Y/n," the familiar voice spoke once more.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you daringly poked your head from the corner and into the other hallway. Blood pounded past your ears, and it took more than a second to realize there was a figure of a man at the end of the very long and dark corridor.

He took a step forward and the soft moonlight pouring from the window beside him illuminated his figure, and your breath faltered at the sight of the man's smiling face.

"Seonghwa?"

"What are you running away from, y/n?"

You couldn't properly form a reply at his remark, hands reaching up to rub at your tear pricked eyes. A sob bubbled its way up to escape your throat at the sight of your late friend who merely chuckled at your tears.

"Missed me that much, hm?" he mused, shoulders shaking with an amused chortle, "Why don't you come here and give me hug? You know I don't like seeing you cry."

You couldn't help it as a gnawing feeling of unrest settled in the pit of your stomach. A shudder traveled down your spine, goosebumps decorating your arms, and hair standing on the back of your neck. Your mind couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was that had you so disturbed, but your body displayed all the signs. His tone felt off, and you realize he's playing with you. Toying with you. A small distant voice in your head told you to get away.

A sudden thought found its ways into your mind.

Where was his shadow?

Sensing your hesitation, the friendly expression on his face soon dropped, making way for a stone-cold frown and unamused eyes.

"Y/n."

His cold voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you take a hesitant step back, words slipping out before you even processed them, "I know you're not real."

The feral look that overtakes his expression has you reeling back, and you took off running in the opposite direction. Glass crunches beneath your shoes as you dashed from corridor to corridor, lungs burning and muscles aching from the rush of adrenaline. He called for you repeatedly, and you didn't dare turn back to see how far he's caught up with you. With every turn, his voice grew louder and closer, before a flash of black sends you flying back onto the floor. Your body skids onto the ground, shards of glass pricking at your skin. With a rush of adrenaline fueling your system, you hardly wince as you scrambled back from the towering figure, glass piercing your skin in the process.

You feel an excruciating burst of pain in your foot, and before you had the opportunity to pull your leg back, he slams his foot down onto your ankle once more, grinding the joint roughly with his boot. A loud cry of pain escapes your throat and you to struggle wildly to escape his unrelenting grip.

You glance up and through your tears, you make out the gleam of a large piece of glass in Seonghwa's hands, his threatening, blown out pupils pinning you down like trapped prey. Turning the large shard in his hand to examine it, he hums sarcastically before peering down at you with a quirked brow, "You know, I'm offended." Kneeling down to your level, he traces your cheek with a glass, watching your skin split at the action and beads of blood oozing out from the scratch, "And here I thought we were such good, close friends."

Without missing a beat, your hands flew to grasp the shard, roughly ripping it into the soft tissue of his eye and slipping past his frame to stagger to the nearest broken window. You hear a groan from behind you as he doubles over in shock, blood overflowing from his ruptured eye and spilling down his scowling face. Pain surged with every step you took, but if this was your only option to escape, you think maybe the idea of couple of broken bones doesn't sound too bad.

Hastily, you stepped over the windowsill, your arms and legs catching on the jagged teeth of glass remaining, your clothes tearing in the process. You took a sharp inhale before curiously taking a look back at Seonghwa one last time. The sight of him lunging after you has you falling forward and out of the window. It felt as if gravity had slowed the pace of your fall, and you held eye contact with Seonghwa as your frame descended down from the third story floor. Darkness fogged your eyesight, his figure vanishing within the black abyss.

The impact hit you like a truck, and you sat up with a loud intake of breath on your warm bed. Your chest heaved heavily as you took in your surroundings. You suddenly realize you're in Wooyoung and Yeosang's shared room that hasn't been occupied in months. Your eyes fall onto your feet, and your brows furrow in confusion as a sudden thought invades your head.

You faintly remember your ankle being crushed, but it seemed to feel just fine now. When you attempted to recall why you thought it had been broken, it felt like your mind was searching for a forgotten and fragmented memory. After calming your breathing and thoughts, you sit up to go and find your friend.

You called Wooyoung's name repeatedly, but the silence you were met with indicated he wasn't home.

Peering into your room, you hoped to find him sleeping, however your eyes landed on the wall, the sight of messily painted words catching your attention almost immediately.

Where there are flowers, there are butterflies.

Painted flowers and butterflies littered the wall, the excess ink dripping down into lines onto the wooden floorboards.

"Do you like it?"

You jumped at the voice behind you, swiftly turning around to meet the sight of a familiar head of blue hair. You stood there, mouth agape as you silently stared long and hard at the man that once held and loved you in his arms. A long silence followed suit, hanging in the air like the calm before a storm. A breeze hardly stirred from the open window and not a sound could be heard save for the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

The forbidding, subtle grin displayed on his features filled you with dread, and the mere sight of him gave your brain a debilitating shock. Your knees couldn't hold your weight any longer, and with buckling limbs, you were sent crashing down onto the floor, the look of disbelief and horror never leaving your expression.

You stared at him but it felt like you couldn't quite focus your gaze on him as he peered down at you in mock pity, a condescending smile playing on his lips. His dark gaze seared you as he crouched down to meet your eye level, hand reaching to cup your cheek as he leaned in to press numerous kisses onto your lips. The gesture was void of the warmth and care you remembered, and you sat still as he trailed fleeting kisses down your the column of your neck, his lips attaching fervently onto your clavicles.

"I missed you so much," you began, catching his attention. Pulling away from your irritated flesh, he quirked his brows at your words, hands brushing the hair out of your face as he let out a chuckle. His finely-chiseled face, illuminated by the oil lamps on the wall, broke into a fond expression. Pulling you close to his frame, he pressed your head against his chest, head dipping to kiss into your hair.

"Do you really?" Your brows furrowed slightly, eyes blinking away the tears as you wrapped your arms around his torso, head pressed against his chest. It's been too long without the feeling of your lover's arms around you. It's just been way too long for you, "If you miss me that much then-"

While nuzzling his chest, you come to realization he lacked a heartbeat, and with that thought striking your mind like lightning, you detached yourself from his form instantly. He eyed your trembling form without any sign of amusement.

"Don't look at me like that!" Cowering back against the wall, you broke into screams of despair, fingers pulling handfuls of your hair as you shook your head rapidly, "You're dead— you're not real!" you slapped the heels of your palms against your temple repeatedly, eyes scrunched shut, "Not real! Not real! This is all just my imagination!"

He released a chilling laugh that traveled down your spine and left your fingers and toes numbingly cold. A sudden gust of wind sent the crispy, autumn leaves scampering wildly into the window while also extinguishing the lamplights that illuminated the room, plunging it into darkness.

You only had a second to register his close proximity, your pupils dilating instantly, before a hand latched onto your throat, ramming your head back against the wall in the process. His vice-like, lithe fingers squeezed around your windpipe, successfully blocking your air flow as you squirmed in his relentless hold, lungs burning and diaphragm spasming.

"You'll join me so we can be together again, hm?"

The fist around your throat choked your response, and he tilted his head with a mocking smile, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

His hold only faltered ever so slightly to give you enough air to speak, "I don't want to die," your reply was a little more than a ghost of a breath.

"But, baby," his fingers coiled around your neck, pressing unforgivingly hard until your darkening vision littered with stars, "don't you realize you're already on the brink of death. Just give in, y/n. Don't keep fighting."

The silence of the atmosphere contributed to the solemnity in the air, and despite the clear blue skies and warm sun, there was a relentless chill in Wooyoung's heart. The black-haired male crouched down over the grave, gently placing a small bundle of roses onto the base of the tombstone.

"Happy birthday, Joong," he mused sadly, his puffy, tired eyes flickering over to the sides where the other tombstones lay.

"I'm so sorry for breaking my promise," he blinked rapidly to rid himself of the stinging tears threatening to spill, nose scrunching slightly as he sniffled, "I should've been there that day- shouldn't have let y/n come here alone- and.."

"You know nothing was your fault, Woo. Stop blaming yourself for something you had no control of."

A hand clutched his shoulder, and he peered with tear-filled eyes to give the blonde male a grateful smile, before turning back to the grave, "Yeosang's awake now though and- and the doctors said that y/n's case isn't as bad as his was, so we have hope."

"Y/n is a stubborn fighter," Yeosang offered the other a small smile, crouching down to rub his trembling friend's back, "Everything will be okay in due time."

"I hope so.. and I hope you'll forgive me, Hongjoong," Wooyoung murmured, watching two small butterflies flutter and chase each other around the blossoming flowers atop of Hongjoong's grave.

#ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #yeosang imagines #seonghwa imagines #choi san imagines #ateez horror

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Ruby & Cosmo

Ruby: Dying to know is every date colour coded? ❤️

Cosmo: Oh, God 😅 How unintentionally cringe

Cosmo: That sums up how well it went, sadly

Ruby: the quick reply had me thinking you were back early or answering in the middle of dinner

Cosmo: 🤫

Cosmo: I’d never!

Cosmo: It was a favour and I think that showed

Cosmo: She’s my cousin’s friend and just got dumped, sweet girl but perhaps not ready to be great company

Ruby: explains the 🌹

Cosmo: Not very personal or too basic?

Ruby: a nice try if it was your first date ever but I know it’s not

Cosmo: Thank God I didn’t get another bouquet 😏

Cosmo: They weren’t buy one get one free though, before you say

Ruby: they looked expensive

Ruby: she would’ve felt guilty throwing them back in your face

Cosmo: I told you I weren’t texting under the table, why would she need to?

Ruby: you told me why, they’re impersonal & basic

Ruby: & heartbreak makes you unhinged

Cosmo: I wouldn’t call her unhinged

Cosmo: at least not to her face, right

Ruby: 😅

Ruby: or your cousin’s

Ruby: Are you staying out in town or going home to change?

Cosmo: I don’t fancy showing up in the club in this

Cosmo: never mind hearing what my friends would have to say

Cosmo: What are you up to?

Ruby: the VIP area has seen worse, you don’t look like you raided the Gucci sale rail, eyes closed

Ruby: & your friends have worn worse, but I won’t say it to their faces

Ruby: I’m waiting for my own friends to be done making their own questionable outfit choices as usual

Cosmo: Careful, that was almost a compliment and not just a drag of the lads

Cosmo: not undeserved on their end but what did I do to make you decide to be nice to me?

Cosmo: besides entertain you with my dating woes whilst they redo their makeup, again

Ruby: You know how to dress, it’s a fact

Ruby: & I didn’t decide to be nice, it just happened

Cosmo: Not that you’re not usually nice in general

Cosmo: but here I am, feeling special, like 💖🤩

Cosmo: It’s also a fact, though not an impressive one, that I’m not lame enough to go in for that negging bullshit, so whatever I end up doing, calling you a bitch ain’t on the agenda

Ruby: there you were down in the dumps about your disaster date, I thought I’d try to help

Ruby: I wouldn’t, it only works for Mason when everyone’s too busy watching his feet move to care about his mouth & that’s not the audience you’ve got atm

Cosmo: I think I’ll survive

Cosmo: but I appreciate it

Cosmo: I’ve seen him get in trouble for his mouth plenty of times on the pitch

Cosmo: but referees aren’t ones to be sweet-talked so…

Ruby: your expensive roses are wasted on them 🥀

Cosmo: That is the real tragedy 💔

Cosmo: I reckon 🍷 could work on your dad though, whaddya think?

Ruby: aren’t we beyond bribes? I thought we were

Cosmo: You don’t have to go up for contract renewals

Cosmo: but I was joking, so don’t tell him he’s on a promise there

Ruby: oh yeah, it’s a joke you being worried you won’t get renewed

Ruby: he doesn’t shut up about you after a few 🍷’s with your dad

Cosmo: Sorry you’ve had to witness/hear that

Cosmo: can’t help my case

Ruby: it wouldn’t be realistic to entertain you or let you entertain me if he wasn’t on board

Cosmo: No?

Ruby: secrecy & sneaking around would be impossible unless we could both drop what we were doing at a moment’s notice, which we can’t

Cosmo: True

Cosmo: Neither of us has the time for that

Ruby: or the anonymity

Cosmo: You aren’t wrong

Ruby: 💖🤩 back at me?

Ruby: you’re being agreeable, above & beyond the Sunday roast standard you set when everyone was listening in

Cosmo: Agreeable from you I can take

Cosmo: I didn’t know any of you guys were going to be there, so if I wasn’t on top form

Cosmo: I’d love to have a second chance to do it better, of course

Cosmo: Somewhere more exciting than family dinner

Cosmo: and no impersonal and basic 🌹s

Ruby: I’d love to skip the club tonight, it stopped being exciting forever ago

Ruby: there’s your chance

Cosmo: Alright

Cosmo: I’ll make something happen and I’ll send you the place and the dress code

Ruby: pastel colours wash me out

Cosmo: What kind of place would be pastels only? 🤔

Ruby: [name drop somewhere boujee that you’ve been probably with your mum and godmother lol]

Ruby: you wasted the ❤️ on the wrong girl 💔

Cosmo: She wasn’t wearing red

Ruby: it was never going to work out

Cosmo: That might be for the best

Ruby: tbd

Ruby: but I’m not feeling like I’ll cry or talk about any of my exes so it’ll be better for you

Cosmo: And for you

Cosmo: not that you’re letting me be impressive with a bar that low but you know

Ruby: you’ll get over or under it if you want to

Cosmo: If I couldn’t rise to the occasion your dad definitely wouldn’t stand for it

Ruby: I won’t either

Cosmo: tbd

Cosmo: I heard

Ruby: another girl has beat me to denying you everything, I have no choice but to switch it up to keep things interesting

Cosmo: Has hard-to-get worked since the days of negging?

Cosmo: You’ve got all the choices, and no need to play any sort of game with me

Cosmo: Let’s have a good time

Ruby: it might have worked for people who want a different reputation than I do

Ruby: that’d wash me out too, the whole projection of intense cold bitch energy

Ruby: a good time is more doable

Cosmo: It wouldn’t get you very far, I understand

Cosmo: We all have to be some type of way to get to where we need to be

Ruby: yeah & talent has to be backed up with 😁✨

Cosmo: A winning personality, of course

Ruby: if I don’t have that both of my parents & coach are going to lose it, definitely

Cosmo: Well, you don’t need to worry about that, from my perspective

Ruby: from my POV neither of us will be worrying until the alarm wakes us early tomorrow & it’ll be too late to stress it by then

Ruby: the good time’ll have already happened

Cosmo: I’ll drink to that

Cosmo: [something that’s between the restaurant moment we just took Savannah to and the normal clubs they would go to, idk what that would look like, like a club that’s a bit sassier than the beyond standard ones footballers and WAGs would hang in]

Cosmo: but I won’t start without you, like

Ruby: not counting the 🍷 if the 🍝 soaked it up

Ruby: but what do you want me to wear? 🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎

Cosmo: ❤️ off the table then

Ruby: the bar hasn’t fallen through the floor, I’m not okaying you wearing the outfit you chose for her & me dressing to match it

Cosmo: 😅 I’ve gone home but alright

Cosmo: I want to see what you come up with, actually

Cosmo: I’ll show you I’ve got better than the jumper, don’t worry

Ruby: I’ll do better than a roast with the fam, talk about a low bar

Cosmo: I think you’re probably incapable of looking bad

Ruby: try keeping me up all night & you’ll see

Cosmo: I won’t be the first or the last to show up to practice feeling less than 💯 … are all the other ice skaters perfect 😇s?

Ruby: I’m not giving any details of who isn’t, you’re a date down tonight as is, I’m not getting ditched for someone even more 😈

Cosmo: About how that looks

Cosmo: ‘cos I know

Cosmo: We aren’t going to post anything are we?

Cosmo: I’m not looking to add to the poor girl’s 💔 and I know it’s a dick move to not even wait ‘til tomorrow

Ruby: 📵

Ruby: getting into a fight with your cousin over me is even more Romeo & Juliet than sneaking around behind my dad’s back, we all know how it ended

Ruby: drama in the routine is fine but off the ice it’s not cute

Cosmo: Drama on the pitch depends how you feel about diving

Cosmo: but I appreciate that

Ruby: how I feel about diving depends how much my brother has got to me & I want to get him back for it

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 depending on the day

Ruby: 🟥 usually

Cosmo: I feel that

Cosmo: about my own, usually, not necessarily yours but I can see the how and why there too

Ruby: yours made an impression, not at all good

Cosmo: That’s his speciality

Ruby: 😬 brothers bring the mood down when they’re ours

Cosmo: Neither of them’s invited

Ruby: it’ll make a change not to see mine out

Cosmo: That’s unlucky

Ruby: but you’re on to a winner with the location, congrats

Cosmo: I had a good feeling

Ruby: I’ve got one too

Cosmo: 💖🤩

Ruby: a compliment to last until I get there

Cosmo: tbd 👋

Ruby: ❤️

Cosmo: [so obviously this night is gonna go better than the awkward date, though that’s not hard soz Savannah, but also a step above the standard club moment of every weekend hence we stay out longer than we usually do when we’ve got an early start tomorrow]

Ruby: [and equally as obviously if you found enough to talk about when you were around all your annoying relatives for that roast I’m not worried about you struggling for a convo tonight, you’re both cute and have things in common and there’s clearly a vibe]

Cosmo: [I don’t think anything needs to happen tonight but it’s obvious you like each other ‘cos you could both be bothered to show and do this]

Ruby: [agreed it feels legit to who you both are and your priorities to wanna take things a bit slower than that, like it’s clearly unlike her already to do this when you were literally on a date earlier and staying out later than planned is also something neither of you do a lot so]

Cosmo: [yes, we’re not that kind of boy, not saying you’ve never slept with anyone obvs lmao but we’re not a different gal every weekend energy at all]

Ruby: [likewise neither calling this gal a nun or a slag but I doubt she's been out with that many people cos of a) her busy schedule and b) the lowkey famous dad and brother thing that would make some lads wanna try it on for that reason]

Cosmo: [exactly dr phil, you wanna skip to the AM of it all?]

Ruby: [absolutely boo]

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 for keeping you out past your bedtime then?

Ruby: Are you willing to take credit or am I blaming a messy friend’s man troubles?

Cosmo: That depends

Cosmo: we would have to find a friend we’d mutually not mind throwing under the bus and I’m not sure if my brain is capable rn

Ruby: it wouldn’t be taxing to mine to think up someone believable, if you’re keen to show up to my door with 💐 & fool my dad that it’s the first move you’ve made

Ruby: for rep’s sake

Cosmo: The 💔 is all around

Cosmo: a hangover will have you feeling that way

Cosmo: are YOU keen for me to show up at your door with 💐s, that’s the real question here

Ruby: I’ll start getting hangovers when I’m old, it’s a scare tactic before, not a real thing

Ruby: impressing my dad doesn’t necessarily impress me

Cosmo: 😂

Cosmo: That’s alright, I already have impressed him, so it’s definitely not my intention here

Ruby: let’s hear what your intentions are

Cosmo: Now you’re bragging about how un-hungover you are

Cosmo: How about you let me set up a second date and we can talk about it then?

Ruby: a brag would have a selfie attached, I was reassuring you I’m not suffering mild alcohol poisoning like most of our friends

Ruby: a second date for when?

Cosmo: I’m pleased to hear it

Cosmo: it doesn’t make for a pretty sight

Cosmo: [pisstakey shot of some of the lads dying in the changing room or wherever like ew lol]

Cosmo: Send me your calendar and I’ll see?

Ruby: 😬 lovely [but send him something similar of the girls obvs and then your calendar of course, I’m cackling because what if the only time they can both do is tonight so that looks really extra when you’re both not]

Cosmo: They’d kill us for that 😏

Cosmo: [we so could, lmao okay]

Cosmo: Well, it looks like either we double down and go for tonight or we give it a rain check and see in a couple weeks 🤔

Ruby: tonight works for me but it’s you who’d be doing the work to think of somewhere else with wow factor

Cosmo: Undefeated with two wins sounds a lot better than one

Ruby: yeah & I don’t want to talk about weeks on the bench

Cosmo: Be a bit of a dirty tactic to put the blame on you for not going out with me tonight if I get benched but

Cosmo: If it works I’m not above it

Cosmo: So, what kind of place are you looking to avoid tonight?

Ruby: do we need to avoid anywhere or flash photography? your cousin & the girl they forced you to date can’t stay mad forever

Cosmo: No, we don’t have to

Ruby: 💖🤩

Cosmo: Understood

Cosmo: I’ll get back to you

Ruby: 🚫🍷🥃🍸🍹 can be tonight’s rule if you need a break

Cosmo: I don’t

Cosmo: I just needed to know what you want to do, and now I do and I’m thinking

Ruby: I know you don’t need it to have or be fun, me either hopefully

Cosmo: I think you’re fun

Cosmo: and it’s definitely tragic if you have to rely on something like that, that’s not me

Ruby: it’s nobody I know or would count as worth knowing

Cosmo: Totally

Cosmo: Okay, I’m going on the pitch, send you deets later

Ruby: don’t mess up or I’m going to cancel tonight & I don’t want to so that’ll be us both in bad moods 😘

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years

Text

Username: xNotYourJoyx

A/N; hi. i have no clue where this idea came from. i don’t know why my brain always tells me to start more red velvet series’ randomly. but here is the latest spawn from it. this will have more parts to it because i’m interested in expanding on the dynamics of this trio plus i signed up for things that have since blown up my emails for this because i’m dedicated like that. anyway! enjoy. or don’t. idk anymore.

It was only a suggestion. A quick mention, really. “There’s this site, Seungwan,” is how it started. Except for that brief conversation spiraled rapidly into a whirlwind of curiosity and excitement. Perhaps, discussing the lack of sex life and the frustration that comes with that whilst you’re supposed to be busy working on the latest financial development wasn’t the smartest move, and yet, the conversation ended in a better resolution than she imagined when Joohyun had managed to pry the information out of her about why she’s been so on edge lately.

On edge being both literal and metaphorical. Getting to the high is easy, however, toppling over into the rush of being able to feel the full experience of pleasure has been evading her for the last few weeks now. Nothing seems to do the trick and though you may think it’d be fun to simply keep trying, it’s starting to become an issue with the more extreme methods she attempts. So, it desperately needs to be fixed, just not in front of all of her colleagues who are idly typing away the dull workday.

The rest of the day drags along. Nothing particularly interesting happens which Seungwan is grateful for, she could do without the extra stress. Though, she’s sure the new sponsorship to promote a dead-end product that everyone had warned their boss about will cause a headache in the future, she ignores the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Joohyun was kind enough to buy dinner for the both of them which her stomach is currently grateful for as she’s certain her fridge at home is empty. But, watching her friend and colleague suckle on the ice cream bar she purchased for herself should not have resulted in her needing to press her legs together on instinct.

Joohyun didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything and continued to lap her tongue across the cold strawberry flavored ice cream. Probably for the best. Nothing good ever comes from getting too involved with people you have to work alongside every day, even if that person does look like Aphrodite herself. The awkward looks between you both, everyone else knowing that the two of you have slept together but are now deciding on which color scheme to use for an advertisement, it just isn’t something that Seungwan wants to deal with. So, she and Joohyun will have to remain platonic. Unfortunately.

It’s late by the time she gets home. The hallway lights leading up to the apartment door flicker every few seconds and the apartment across the hall has the television turned up loud enough that Seungwan is sure they’re trying to let those in hell hear the latest episode of whichever show they’re currently watching. The keys in her hand rattle as she unlocks the stiff door that barely wants to open anymore. The loudness doesn’t disappear once she closes it behind her but it’s home and somewhere she can erase the feeling of being stuck, in more ways than one.

The latest routine of ordering in unhealthy food that is slowly destroying her insides, a cold shower to wash away some of the exhaustion, and then listening to the same songs for about an hour feels almost robotic but it’s what she’s grown used to now. Once the darkness begins to creep in across the apartment, cold air making the hairs on her arm stand to attention and the neighbors suddenly growing quiet, it’s the small bed in the corner of the room that calls out and the only thing echoing inside her head.

Well, it would be, had she not suddenly recalled Joohyun’s description of a site where many people frolic and entertain those who perhaps need a little extra help with their more sinful needs. She moves on auto-pilot toward the jacket hanging on the coat rack and reaches into the left side pocket for the small piece of paper where only the web address is scrawled upon it in Joohyun’s perfect handwriting. The laptop she bought years before and barely runs anymore rests on the dining table she never sits at, closed, and with a line of dust taking up home upon it. Grabbing it, she plops herself down onto the bed after removing her dressing gown and the towel around her hair which has long since dried and throwing it into a corner of the room to be cleaned up tomorrow.

Her fingers trace the keyboard idly, never pressing in a single key, simply going back and forth over the letters whilst her brain tries to decipher if this is something she wants to try out.

“Fuck it.” She thinks. Soon enough, the site is loading, slowly, and asking for her to confirm she is of legal age to enter it.

The screen finally loads and brings up a bunch of profiles under the “popular” banner. To say that the sight of all the various people before her is overwhelming would be an understatement. A sidebar reveals that she can choose a category as well as filter out specific things that are not of her interest. Some of the categories are the standard you would expect, for example, she immediately filters to only see profiles of women. However, others are a little more out there and specific toward what Seungwan assumes are people’s fetishes. A lot of them are things that she would never consider a person could find interesting sexually, and yet, the option is right before her. She ignores the curious voice inside of her head telling her to click on some of them.

A screen full of women now presents itself in front of her. All of them are beautiful and there’s a whole variety to choose from. The profile pictures range from selfies where they’re simply smiling to some of them being without clothing whatsoever. She scrolls for quite some time simply admiring all of the choices before her until one, in particular, captures her attention.

Wide dark eyes with hair of the same shade of brown, plump lips that are sporting a small smirk that’s both enticing and teasing. Part of the girl’s neck is on display for Seungwan to imagine herself kissing and biting softly. Without hesitation, she hovers over the username and clicks onto the profile.

“xNotYourJoyx” she repeats mentally a few times.

The next page reveals a sign-up box that doesn’t allow Seungwan to venture any further. She’s quick to type in her email address, a username not as clever as she would like and the same password she uses for everything else. The next step is to add her bank details in order to be able to subscribe to various pages. She hesitates at this portion realizing that it’s probably very easy for people to fall too far down this rabbit hole. Thus she promises herself not to subscribe to anything until she’s 100% sure.

After completing her profile, she’s brought back to the girl she assumes is named Joy or at least uses that name here. Her subscription rate is the first thing to appear. Her price is low Seungwan thinks, around $10 when she was expecting something far higher based on the type of content Joohyun had told her the people on the site create. The next part is an Amazon wishlist with various items in it ranging from hair extensions, expensive perfume, and medical equipment? She must be a nurse, Seungwan thinks.

Further down the page reveals a VIP service which is more expensive than the standard subscription but allows for you to request specific pictures or videos. There are rules that come along with it which Seungwan reads multiple times over.

Don’t ask me to say or tell you anything personal about me, we are not friends. You don’t know me like that.

No, you can’t have my Instagram or any other social media so don’t ask.

Don’t be a dick.

My amazon wishlist is not for me. I am not a doctor. But I’m down to dress as one for you if you’re into that.

“Well, that clears that up I guess.” She thinks.

For the next ten minutes, Seungwan simply scrolls through the free content on offer from Joy. A few shots of her without clothes but covering her body up with her hands or a sheet, all of which look professionally done which is surprising. She’s captivated and drawn in by this girl a lot quicker than she thought she would be, she can see why Joohyun would recommend such a thing to her now. The possibilities are endless and there are no strings attached. It’s an ideal situation for both parties.

Despite making the promise to herself, she’s quick to subscribe to Joy’s feed but ignores the large “upgrade to VIP” logo that’s glistening in gold below the payment button. It would seem strange or suspicious surely to her if someone new to her profile was suddenly paying for the premium option Seungwan tries to logic with herself.

A few seconds pass as the page reloads itself before finally Joy’s profile is unlocked for Seungwan’s eyes to devour. The same type of photos as previously, however, without anything covering herself up. The same natural reaction to jam her thighs together that she felt earlier with Joohyun ends up happening again except this time she positions her hand under the waistband of her bed shorts.

The further she explores everything Joy has posted the more the need to be touched becomes overwhelming Before she knows it her fingers are gently caressing her soft skin slowly yet with desperation. Many of the images have comments from other people praising the effortless beauty that Joy manages to convey with ease. Seungwan thinks that Joy must be someone with great confidence to display herself so openly like this. She wishes she too were able to picture herself in the way that Joy likely does.

Her body aches for some release but once more she’s not able to reach the peak as the page of images suddenly comes to an end. Once more, the gold button for premium appears and tells Seungwan she’s reached the limit of what she can see. A blurring effect does a good job of hiding what follows next, however, what it doesn’t do is stop her from being enticed further when she spots that Joy has also uploaded videos of herself, they are simply hidden from those on the basic subscription as her.

Almost sub-consciously she finds herself going against every warning sign inside of her mind telling her that paying to watch Joy rather than just look at her is a bad decision, one she will definitely come to regret or become too attached to doing, and yet, it’s too late once she’s confirmed the upgrade and clicked onto the first video that appears.

White background, likely a wall in her home, Seungwan thinks, until finally the girl steps into the frame with yet another smirk on her lips.

“Hello, welcome to premium. Thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy all of the videos and pictures that only a select few of you will ever get to see. If you’re feeling even more generous please be sure to check out my wishlist. Now, let’s have fun together.”

Her voice is silky smooth, Seungwan thinks. She replays the simple video a few times just to hear her make this decision sound like she’s part of an exclusive club where only she is invited, though, she’s aware that isn’t true at all. Joy likely has a ton of people paying to see the most intimate parts of her. The comments on this simple welcoming video are at 59 which means at least that many people have also fallen into the trap, though if Joy is the prize, Seungwan wonders if be tricked into paying extra like this is worth it in the end.

She decides to read through some of them just to get a sense of how people communicate with her here.

ksgeees says: can’t wait for you to send me my video Joy😏

canudoit2609 says: so hot🔥

r4bb1tfr13nd says: damn i should have subbed earlier🥵🥵🥵

speedzoom0408 says: YOU CAN HAVE ALL MY MONEY

HYUNSKY says: most beautiful girl ever

Strangely, the latter comment is the only one Joy has bothered to give a reply to.

xNotYourJoyx says: @HYUNSKY wow, thank you😳

The compliment is definitely correct and deserving of a reply, yet, Seungwan wishes she were the one to tell Joy such things and have her respond solely to her. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and though she probably shouldn’t be feeling it toward a complete stranger, she does. The sound of the keys as she types out her own comment with her free hand that hasn’t been teasing herself is the only thing she can hear now. Not even the wind outside is able to pierce her eardrums and break her from this spell that Joy has put her under.

Wannie2102 says: you are so perfect, Joy.

It’s simple and Seungwan hates it, but she simply must tell this girl something, anything, in hopes that she sees it and feels happy to be complimented.

Silence now, nothing but the screen before her for light inside the cold bedroom. The list of videos, 71 in total, tempting Seungwan, taunting almost. Her left hand numb now from just resting against her own body whilst her right-hand clicks onto the next one in the list after the welcoming video.

The same white background, however, Joy is positioned in the video as soon as it starts this time. Laying down on a black crushed velvet sofa in only her underwear. Her right hand gently caressing her breasts as she grunts out a few low moans. Her left hand in a similar position to where Seungwan is resting her own. The tired and slow circles in which she moves her hand causes her eyes to roll into the back of her head as Seungwan changes her own pace to match that of Joy’s on the screen.

Her bed creaks with every movement of Joy’s that she mimics, the headboard bashing against the wall behind her whenever Joy quickens her pace and then sounds like a light drumming whenever she slows. The neighbor next door has definitely been awakened by the rhythmic sound of Seungwan rocking her body against her fingers.

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” The words surprise Seungwan out of her reverie as it’s as if Joy is present and asking her specifically and knowing that she too is pleasuring herself as she is doing. Without even thinking she manages to gasp out a yes in reply that only she can hear, yet gains a response from Joy almost like she can magically hear her. “I wish I could watch you touch yourself to me.” she pauses to lowly moan. “For me.”

The pressure rises between her thighs once more except this time her body allows her to release every bit of tension she’s had to keep trying to get rid of for weeks. Her entire body collapses against itself as she indulges herself in what she’s convinced is the longest orgasm to ever exist. Her legs shaking wildly as her arm tenses up and flex to make sure she feels every bit of her undoing. The sound of Joy finishing up her own continues to play in the background for further motivation but the deed has already been done.

She rests momentarily, staring up at the ceiling as gentle pants fill the room both from herself and the laptop. Nothing else in the world matters at this very moment. However, once more Joy manages to surprise Seungwan with her telepathic way of just knowing somehow when to speak to her viewer.

“Thank you for that, I hope you come back soon for more.” and then the video ends.

A dark screen replacing the beautiful image of Joy just as spent as Seungwan feels. But, now she’s left to think about everything that has just transpired between herself, the screen and a girl she doesn’t even know. Guilt wells up in her chest and she slams the screen shut almost shattering the glass. “Why did you do this?” is the only thing that repeats inside of her mind. No longer focused on the pulsating feeling against her hand as she pulls it out of her shorts too fast and whips herself with the waistband which will no doubt sting in the morning.

Her legs shakily drag her body to the bathroom almost tripping over various clothes that have sat there waiting to be cleaned for way too long now. She turns on the shower for the second time tonight and steps into it, almost falling immediately. The cold water shocks her body into feeling something other than the after-effects of pleasuring herself. Scrubbing every inch of her body intensely and repeating inside of her mind that she’ll cancel the subscription tomorrow and never do anything like this ever again. She can’t. Joy is a stranger and she shouldn’t be doing these things.

By the time she’s finished almost burning her skin with the washcloth to make sure she’s rid herself of her sins and changing her fair skin to a reddish shade, the clock on the bedside table shows that there are only three hours before she’s due to wake up for work. The bed seems tainted now, so she grabs the blanket and sleeps on the sofa that is far less comfortable.

Joohyun is definitely going to ask her about whether or not she used the site, definitely going to notice the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep and will definitely draw up her own conclusion anyway no matter what her answer is. She tries her best not to think about any of this but there’s just a constant loop of the images of Joy, the sound of her voice, and the way she encouraged Seungwan to feel again.

She dreams of dark hair and brown eyes that night and moans that could be the most heavenly sound in the world or a new addiction that Seungwan isn’t ready for but may not have a choice but to indulge in it.

pt. ii

#red velvet #bae joohyun #son seungwan #park sooyoung #red velvet scenarios #girl group scenarios #irene #wendy #joy

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peachebunnys · 4 years

Text

Pain, with love VI

pairing: Horacio Carrillo x reader

summary: Arranged Marriages are tough, but add that with having a drug lord on the loose? Horacio Carrillo can only imagine what’s coming for him.

warning: crying, insecurity mentions, angst (? idk if this counts)

a/n: I have simply nothing to say, just take this away from me.

3.6k words

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 6;

The month goes by quickly, with days filled with joy and laughter. You didn’t think time would pass this fast, but unfortunately Horacio was due to return back to work the next day. You tried to hide the disappointment from him, knowing that once he was back in the motion of working, the days where he’d return way past midnight would soon return.

He was currently sitting across you, taking a bite out of the pancakes you decided to make on that fine morning. His fingers were intertwined with yours, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over yours whilst eating his food. The physical contact, you realized, was something the two of you started to do more of, unknowingly holding the other for the comfort it brought with it. Just holding him, feeling him next to you brought a peace of mind, knowing that you weren’t alone anymore.

He must’ve thought nothing more of it though, since he never reacted much whenever the two of you held hands - if you could even call it that. You were touch starved, and ever since that night you had the nightmares of your dad, you’ve been sleeping closer to Horacio, seeing that it didn’t bother him when you did so.

His touches were always so comforting, something that eased you from your stress and fears that came every night. He always held you like you’d break in his hands if he was too rough, and you could sense the conflict in him whenever he pulled you closer to him.

There was something unspoken between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you wanted to address it. What if you did and he denies having feelings for you? What if he told you that he was doing it to ease your pain of being alone, simply abiding to what your father had wished him to do? What if he didn’t love you like you did?

Your fork scraped the empty plate, the screeching sound becoming slightly unpleasant to the ears.

Was this too fast for you? Was this too fast for him?

Your mind was muddled with thoughts, unsure where it started or where it ended. You were starting to become nervous, and in turn pulling your hand away from Horacio.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

His deep voice breaks your thoughts, pulling you out of your head space to look at him with worry written all over his face. He always did this though, always looking out for you for any signs of distress.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine,” you forced a smile, dropping the fork on your plate. “I’ll go wash these up.”

“Y/N wa-”

The knocking on the door had interrupted him, the loud sound tearing his eyes away from you. The door practically trembled with each knock, shaking the large wooden door to its core.

“Carrillo! It’s us, Peña, Murphy and his wife!”

Horacio lets out a small huff, standing up from his stool to walk towards the door, “great, now the gringos are here.”

As he opens the door, the two taller men smile widely at him, holding up two bottles of champagne in front of his face. “Time to celebrate your last day of break! It’s going to be the last one for a long time.” Connie trails behind her husband, smiling apologetically at him, “I’m sorry, they really wanted to visit you. If it makes you feel better, I’ll bring them home if things start to get too rowdy.”

Horacio’s looks over at you standing by the sink awkwardly, staring at the guests by the door. Javier breaks out into a huge smile and walks through the house, whispering as he glances over at Horacio, “don’t worry, none of us will try to steal your girl.”

That statement alone made Horacio annoyed, but he couldn’t do anything about it since the two men were already in his living room. They stood in front of the couch, admiring the baby blue shade of the walls, which were now decorated with portraits, pictures of the couple, and even a few artworks.

Javier whistled, pacing around the living room to inspect every item that was either on the wall or shelves, “looks like the both of you have been busy, the walls weren’t this colour when I came here the last time.”

“Yea we uh- decorated it a bit, Y/N thought the colour was starting to get dull.” Horacio rubbed his neck, looking around the vastly empty room. Minimalism, as you called it, was something you found very pretty and wanted to try to incorporate it into your living space. Horacio, on the other hand, couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of wanting as little things as possible, for a home should be something personalized to the people living in it. But even despite his deferring views, he didn’t voice them out to you, since he didn’t have many items to display around the room anyway.

“I bet it’s all her idea, there’s no way you can come up with something as pretty as this,” Javier clapped Horacio on the back, grinning as he made eye contact with you. Steve had already made himself at home, slumping back into the comfortable couch next to the round coffee table. Connie, on the other hand, was making her way towards you, smiling brightly as she held out a container full of brownies.

“I made this last night but found it a bit too much for both Steve and I to consume, you should have it.” She places the container on the kitchen counter, opening up the lid to let you observe its contents. The brownies were a beautiful shade of dark brown, with small pieces of walnuts jutting out from its cube shape. It smelt too sweet, which had you salivating at just the mere sight of it. You thanked Connie for the delicacy as you offered each of the guest drinks, placing down water that filled the pretty porcelain cups you still kept around.

As the men started catching up on work-related matters, Connie sat across you at the kitchen island, drinking the beverage you had just offered her. The two of you had started talking about mindless things, from recipes to discussing your married life to even explaining to her how both you and Horacio had found yourselves in this arranged marriage situation. All the while Connie was being supportive, gently rubbing your shoulder comfortingly as you stopped yourself from tearing up when you spoke of your father.

She too shared her worries about Steve, and how it kept her up all night whenever he was out on the field. In times like these, she paused, the only thing that’ll bring him home is your love and support - especially when things get tough.

You nodded at her knowingly, but hearing those words didn’t make you feel less worried about Horacio. You were zoning out, watching him from across the room as he continued discussing about work, every word Connie mentioned to you flying right over your head.

“You really do love him, huh?” It had caught you off-guard, especially since she was just in the midst of telling you about her job scope.

Your face reddened, and you felt like a small child being caught by their parents for eating something they shouldn’t have. You stuttered out excuses, mixed with soft and unconvincing ‘no’s. Your eyes were darting around the kitchen, looking at anywhere but at her.

Were you that transparent? And if so, you were starting to worry if Horacio had caught on to your feelings.

You weren’t looking to put him in a position where things may get awkward for the both of you, knowing that some people weren’t ones to fall in love quickly.

Connie looked at you with a knowing smile, reaching out to hold your hand, “if it means anything, he’s been looking at you quite a bit too, especially since we walked through the door.”

Your eyes snap towards Horacio, catching him looking right back at you. It was clear he wasn’t listening to what the other two men were saying, focusing his eyes on you. Your heart was beating faster and you notice him cracking a smile towards you, raising his eyebrows as a gesture to ask if there was anything wrong.

You simply shook your head, smiling back at him before continuing your conversation with Connie. She was smiling so happily, recounting how Steve was trying his best to woo her when he first met her at the bar, all those years ago and the two of you couldn’t stop giggling at how hilarious his attempts were.

Throughout the conversation, you caught Horacio’s eyes on you again and each time you would cock your eyebrow questioningly. After the third time of doing so, he walked out of his seat, not caring about the conversation he was having with the other two men. He walked over to you, placing his hand gently on yours.

“How are the both of you doing?”

You look up to him, his head blocking the kitchen light from shining into your eyes. You could hear Connie get out of her seat, smirking as she walked over to the living room to join Javier and Steve.

“Great, what’s up?”

“Oh nothing, you were just looking at me a lot, I thought you must've needed me.”

“Me, looking at you a lot?” You scoff, “it was more like you were looking at me first.”

Horacio chuckled at your words, reaching out to the brownies that sat next to you. He pulled the container over, inspecting the dessert Connie had brought over.

“I swear, these gringos put anything but seasoning in their food.”

Your hand cup your mouth immediately, hiding the fact that you were laughing so hard that your body started trembling.

“Horacio-” you wheezed, “you can’t say that about your friends!”

He smiled widely at you, popping a brownie into his mouth, humming in appreciation at the taste of it, “it’s really good though.”

He picks up another one before walking back to his seat, “can’t stay here too long or they’ll accuse me of trying to escape their boring conversations.” He flashes a smile at you before turning back to the men, face immediately falling to show little to no emotion.

A few hours later, dinner was served and everyone was chatting at various corners of the room. You were busy chatting with Connie when Javier had come up to you, stretching out his arm to shake your hand.

“I’m Javier Peña, I work with your husband quite closely.”

“So I’ve heard,” you shake his hand that was huge enough to cover your tiny palm entirely, completely oblivious to the way Horacio was staring at the two of you.

“Your husband,” Javier pauses, shoving his thumb in direction to Horacio, who was barely listening to Steve talk about his cat, “is a good man, but a real pain in the ass to work with.”

“Oh?” You muse, eyes crinkling as you smiled at Javier, “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that side of him.”

“I can tell! You know,” Javier now makes himself comfortable, sitting next to you on the couch and Connie moves away to sit next to her husband, “I’ve never seen that man crack a smile before. Never! It’s always like there’s a stick up his ass or something, always preventing him from showing even the slightest bit of emotion.”

You laugh heartily at that remark, unable to imagine Horacio as serious as Javier described him to be. You’re reminded of that day, a few weeks back when his wounds were still fresh and how he was unable to wear his shirt properly, huffing like an inconsolable puppy.

You narrate this story to Javier, who in turn grips his sides as he laughs out loud, titling his head back slightly. The two of you started sharing stories about Horacio, with Javier sharing with you in great detail how it's like to work with him. He tells you about how Horacio hated paper work with his entire being, and how it’d drive him up the wall if anyone tried to talk to him then.

Your face was turning red with how Javier described your husband to be, feeling your eyes fill with tears as you continued listening to his comedic rants.

Horacio, on the other hand, sat across Connie and Steve, who were in the midst of telling him all about a new child they’ve recently adopted - with Steve even going as far as digging through his wallet to show pictures of the infant. Horacio simply nodded at the couple, every few seconds glancing back to see you holding onto Javier’s shoulder as you practically cried while laughing.

A foreign emotion bubbled in him, with his chest feeling way too tight all of a sudden. He could tell you were having so much fun, which made him smile albeit sadly to himself. His thumb rubs over the wedding band, twisting it in place on his ring finger. He glanced down at the beautiful silver jewelry, the sides reflecting his face like a mirror. He looks back up again and swallows deeply, letting out a long breath as he turns back to the conversation with Connie and Steve.

The day went by quickly, way too fast for your liking. You had started to take a liking towards Horacio’s colleagues, and especially Connie who was nothing but sweet to you the whole time. You ushered the guest out the door, thanking them for coming and bringing food with them - saving you the hassle of cooking lunch and dinner.

You glance up at the kitchen clock to see it was half past nine, surprised that the guests had stayed for that long. You moved over to collect the trash bin that was piling up with disposable cups and plates that were used earlier to serve dinner. You bundled up the black trash bag and tossed the bag out to the main bin, walking back into the house to see Horacio pacing along the corridors of the rooms, looking like he was burdened with something.

You smile as you walk towards him, brushing your hands on your floral dress before reaching out to hold his firm bicep. His head had immediately snapped towards you, and while his face hadn’t shown any emotions, his eyes were filled with sadness, watching you intently as you moved closer to him.

“Horacio...” you looked up at him with worry written all over your face, he looked just as hopeless as he did that night when he was struggling to patch himself up. “What’s wrong?”

He felt his heart ache at how sweetly you asked about his well being, always looking out for him whenever you felt something off.

Does he tell her?

He needed to, right?

She deserved to know the truth.

The tension in the air was growing, getting thicker by the moment. The way Horacio looked at you now, with conflict in his eyes only made you more worried. The minutes went by with Horacio not saying a word, jaw clenched as he took a step back from you.

“You deserve better Y/N,” he says simply, “you deserve someone better than me.”

Your vision starts to get blurry as you focus on Horacio, seeing him look just as pained as you.

What on earth was he on about?

“What are you talking about, Horacio?” You noticed how he was distancing himself from you, and it felt like you were being stabbed right in the chest.

He gently bites his bottom lip, stopping it from trembling as he feels the tears threatening to run down his face, “You truly deserve someone that will be able to take care of you, someone who would be able to give you the world and make you happy.”

You reach out to hold his hand, only for him to pull it away from you. Your shocked expression didn’t go unnoticed and he could now feel his heart burn with sadness, breaking as you looked so dejected.

“Where’s all this coming from? I-It’s not like you to say this, is everything alright?”

He takes in a deep breath.

And another one.

He steadies his breath before looking at you again, the room echoing with the sounds of nearby crickets from behind the windows. The cool air was blowing through, curtains dancing with the wind, like a synchronized move. The night was silent, and in this moment, it felt almost suffocating to you.

He swallows deeply, finally allowing you to hold his hand like how you always did. Your hair was in a mess again - like how it usually was, and again he struggled, to not give in to the temptation to comb the stray strands behind your ear.

“I saw how you were with Peña just now an-”

“Is this what it’s about?”

“- and how you laughed like there wasn’t a care in the world. I know I can’t give you th-”

“Horacio.”

“You deserve better, and I’m just a shell of a ma-”

“Horacio,” your voice breaking, “stop.”

“You deserve to be with someone who could give you the world and mo-”

“Horacio!” You repeated, trying your best to stop his endless ramblings, only for him to continue on louder, oblivious to the fact he was talking over you.

“You’re just too good for me, I’d break you, I’m not a good man and I’m afraid I’ll hurt you,” Horacio’s voice was starting to sound more broken, holding back tears while balling up his fists - knuckles turning white at the exertion.

You could feel your thoughts turn into mush, unable to comprehend anything as he whispered the last part to you, “I don’t deserve you, and when you were talking to Peña it made me realis-”

“We were talking about you!” You practically yelled out that statement, trying your best to stop yourself from crying halfway, “we were talking about you, Horacio!”

His eyes widened, allowing the tears to flow freely down his cheeks. His face devoid of any emotion as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Javier was telling me about how you were at work -” you sniffled, rubbing your nose with tissue from the nearby tissue box, “and he was telling me about your little habits you’d do before you went out on missions, or how you thought about me before that raid on Gatcha’s safehouse.”

Horacio looked at you silently, lips pursed tightly as he slumped his shoulders. You could barely wrap your head around whatever he was saying.

That you were too good for him?

Within the few weeks of knowing him more intimately, you’ve discovered that Horacio was a loving, if not most loving, person you’ve ever met. He was always there for you when you struggled, and in turn you were always there for him too. The days were rough, no doubt, with the nightmares of your dad appearing occasionally, while Horacio faced difficulties in doing strenuous activities. But the patience and support the two of you had for each other was enough to keep you going, enough to bring you two closer together, you felt.

Your heart was heavy, and at this moment you didn’t know what to say to him. How could he think so little of himself? The very same person who held you close to him while recounting stories of his childhood to lull you to sleep, thought he wasn’t good enough for you? If there was anyone who wasn’t deserving of this wonderful relationship, you felt like it was you.

The man who stood opposite you had glassy eyes, staring back at you like a vulnerable child, wearing his heart out on his sleeves. Your mind was once again a chaos, thoughts all over the place as his words sank in. Your knees were starting to feel weak, and as the seconds went by, you felt like you were about to collapse. You closed your eyes to brace the impact, expecting the loud thud that came with falling against the cool hard ground, along with the pain that would come with it.

But you never made it to the floor.

You opened your eyes to see Horacio’s face inches away from yours, arms tightly wrapped around your body to prevent you from falling. His jaw was clenched, but he continued looking into your eyes, mirroring the sadness you knew was evident on your face. You daringly reached out to him, fingers running through his soft curls that you’ve been dreaming of touching since the day you first saw him. You dragged your fingers down his face, cupping his cheek before dragging your thumb over his lips.

It’s now or never, you thought, I might lose him if I don’t say it.

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat, letting out a shaky breath before swiping your thumb over his chin. It’s now or never.

“I love you.” You croaked out, your heart hammering in your chest, “I think I’m in love with you Horacio.”

He scans your face, looking for any signs of doubt or insecurity, only to be met with eyes filled with adoration and love looking right back at him. He sucks in a breath, eyes closed to stop himself from looking straight at you, to stop himself from getting lost in your eyes - the ones that admire him like he’s the only person in the world.

He feels your thumb move up to his cheek, caressing his cheekbones lightly. Your touch was so gentle, and he could feel himself leaning into your palm. His breathing was becoming shallow, and just as he was about to open his eyes, he feels it - feels you.

Your lips pressed against his, and he could taste the tears you cried just moments prior. Your lips were everything he imagined it to be, and more - soft and plush while tasting faintly like the juice you were drinking earlier. He stills for a moment, hesitant on what to do, before moving his lips in sync with yours as he feels you pull away. His tongue drags across your lips, a silent request to let him in.

But you already have.

You’ve let him in your life, giving him your heart from the day he comforted you. You’ve let him in, countless times. And as he pulls you closer into his arms, your heart aches, knowing that whatever comes next might not be pretty.

Your fingers tug his hair lightly, pulling his face closer to yours. The both of you stayed like this for a considerable amount of time, before he finally pulled away, panting softly from the lack of air. You could feel your heart thumping in your ears, beating so fast and hard you felt like it’d break out of your ribs at any moment.

You watched Horacio, who looked like he was deep in thought. His eyes flashed with an emotion you couldn’t quite catch. Was it guilt? Pain? Sympathy? You could only wish you knew, wish he’d tell you something.

You refused to mull over it at that moment, only wanting to go to bed that night with your husband in your arms. You firmly held his chin, turning it tenderly so that he’d look back at you. His eyes were a pretty shade of brown, illuminated by the harsh white kitchen lights. You ran your thumb under his eye, smiling just slightly as you whispered to him.

“Horacio, come to bed with me… Please?”

His adam's apple bops up and down, and now he looks back at you with a pained expression. He gently places you on the floor, removing your hand from the side of his face carefully before placing it down on your thigh.

I still don’t deserve you, he thinks, never have and never will.

“I think you should head to bed first, I’ll come in later.”

The wind howls against the shut windows, indicating yet another thunderstorm to come. The rain that had just started now splatter on the glass panels, creating a rhythmic thud sound that echoed throughout the room. You could feel your heart breaking just as quickly as it did the last time it had rained, and as you glanced at the man you loved, you felt the loneliness wash over you again. Just as it did all those weeks ago.

I’m sorry.

Horacio got up and walked over to his case files, barely sparing a glance at your confused state on the floor. The gesture alone had made tears spill down your face again, and you watched him delve right back into work.

I truly am sorry.

#horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x reader #horacio carrillo imagine #narcos #peachebunnys fic

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sad-af1121 · 5 years

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A Nuisance (One-shot)

Summary: Everyone has their bad days and unfortunately yours was a mixture of exhaustion and being sick. Steve and Bucky made it their goal to make your day a little better by spoiling you the best they can but how could they help when every ounce of physical love annoyed you? | Marvel AU | Pairings: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: language, some angst? (idk if you count a pouty steve as angst but sure) fluff, comedy and cute-ness overload

A/N: i’m sorry in advance if it seems rushed but i really did try to make it comedic and cute. It’s been a rough two weeks and i really wanted to get this done before the deadline for @babylevines writing challenge! Congrats on the 4k follower's babe! I hope you enjoy :3 Prompt: “Touch me with your cold feet one more time and see what happens.” | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

“They didn’t have any fresh lemons at the store so I got generic lemon juice,” Bucky informed Steve, shutting the front door of their shared apartment. He set the grocery bags on the kitchen island before pulling the contents out from the bags.

Steve turned away from the stove, his eyes scanning the counter. “Buck, why are there so many ice cream flavors? I asked you to get what Y/N likes.”

Bucky sighed, “I didn’t get one flavor of ice cream because I figured if I got the ones she likes, she can pick based off her mood when she gets back home.” He shrugged and walked to the fridge. Steve hummed to Bucky’s remark since he did have a point.

You were called in to work in the early hours of the day, the sun wasn’t even shining through the dull grey-blue skies yet and on top of that, you were fighting a small cold. If it wasn’t for your stubbornness and your passion to work, Steve and Bucky wouldn’t have let you leave, let alone leave the bed. They constantly checked on you, knowing you were going to end up very cranky and exhausted for the rest of the day. After they both came back home from work, they decided to pamper you for the night.

The house chores and dinner would be done by the time you got home. All you would have to do was rest and enjoy the evening and the following weekend with your boys. However, they were hoping that their plan would work and brighten up your mood, but that would be something they’d have to wait and see.

“Buck-”

“She’s parking the car,” Bucky smirked, looking up from his phone screen. “I’ve been texting Babygirl all day. Chill dude, worst-case scenario, she throws a pillow at you for treating her like some fragile pup.”

“Ha, ha. Shut up,” Steve swallowed, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. He was only this way when you weren’t feeling your best. If the world came crumbling down, Steve would make sure to be your shield, protecting you from any harm because you meant everything to him. Both you and Bucky kept the flame of life burning in his chest.

The sound of keys jingling and the doorknob turning caught both of Bucky and Steve’s attention as they prepared themselves for you. Door swinging open, you trudged into your apartment, shutting the door behind you before slumping against the hard flat surface.

Nose slightly discolored with droopy eyelids, you sniffled, sighing in what sounded like a tinge of satisfaction, “I’m hoooome!” You strained, voice raspy and heavy due to your sinus acting up again. Steve involuntarily pouted, his heart aching to see the sight of you so sick and tired. Bucky clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, steadying himself from the anger that was bubbling from within. He craved nothing more than to call your bosses and tell them a thing or two about a proper workplace and how to respectfully treat employees who were under the weather.

Who else calls someone in to work and put others in jeopardy for getting them sick? It’s diabolical.

Giggling at yourself, you move away from the door and set your things to the side, stepping into the kitchen, “What’s all this?” Eyes roaming across the stove then to the dining table, you saw dinner had been made and set for you. The corners of your lips twitched into a lopsided smirk as you looked up at Steve.

“You didn’t have to do all this, baby. We could have ordered take out. I know how hard work can be on you two,” you turned and looked at Bucky who was already standing behind you with a smirk to mirror yours.

“We wanted to do this for you, doll. You work so hard too, ‘n hell, if we want to spoil you, we will. Periodt.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, cringing. “I get your trying to stay hip and modern but PLEASE don’t say that word around me again,” you chuckled as did the boys.

Both Bucky and Steve began to walk toward you and your gut knew they wanted a kiss, but you stopped them the minute they got close, placing a hand on their chests. “I’m sick remember? I don’t think you guys want to get close to me.”

“We’ll be fine. We’re super-”

“Yeah, yeah, super soldiers but I’m not risking it, Steve. Once I’m feeling better, I’ll repay you guys in so many kisses that you’ll be sick of me. But as of right now, I don’t want to be touched,” you sighed, looking between Bucky and Steve.

Bucky nodded and looked at Steve who seemed to be having a hard time dealing with your mood. You saw how his jaw clenched, his heart feeling the slight sting from how forward you were with your emotions and it wasn’t like Steve was against it. He needed to adjust. There was no doubt that Steve didn’t respect your wishes and so he stepped away, clearing his throat before busying himself in washing the dishes from cooking. You swallowed thickly, a small pout forming along your lips.

“Hey, America’s ass.”

Steve turned and you blew him a kiss, hoping it would warm his heart and silently tell him you loved him. When he smiled back, a twinkle forming in his eyes, you knew he was okay. The feelings of content and relief washing over you. It was Bucky’s turn now and you did the same, blowing a kiss, then giggling right after.

His lips bloomed into a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling with admiration and bashfulness. You found this incredibly adorable and you couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. After that, you headed to the bedroom to change into your pj’s.

Once you disappeared into your room, Steve stepped away from the kitchen and joined Bucky on the couch who was playing a game on his phone.

“Don’t mess with Y/N, okay? I think she’d find your annoyance anything but cute today. You saw how she’s acting. Wouldn’t want to ruin her night if you two end up arguing,” Steve warned with a sigh, reminding his lover. On your usual days, you’d find Bucky’s teasing hilarious and downright appealing. However, when you suffered through a rough day like today, for example, you and Bucky would get into a banter that neither parties like to endure. It wasn’t severely serious or anything of that sort and always ended up in kisses and hugs but Steve wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Maybe he was treating you like a small puppy dog after all.

***

“Ugh, baby. You’re the fucking beeeest,” you groaned into your food, your eyes practically rolling inside your head. Your taste buds pranced with happiness, the flavors bringing waves of satisfaction and desire for more. The heat from your supper opened your pores and sinus which allowed some of your tasting senses to come alive.

Steve grinned brightly, looking over at Bucky who chuckled at the blonde for his victory smile. “Had to make my girl happy.”

“You mean our girl, jerk,” Bucky corrected, playfully glaring into Steve’s eyes whilst ripping a piece of baguette with his teeth, chomping on the bread. Steve’s face twisted with disgust and you barked out a laugh, your cheeks warming to how possessive they were getting over you.

“Okay, okay, chillax dudes. I don’t want any bloodshed over dinner. Y’all can wait till after I’m done,” you snorted as Bucky threw a piece of bread at you. You threw one in return which started a mini food war.

“No. Nooope,” Steve got up from the table and opted to eat on the kitchen island. “Totally unnecessary,” he whispered under his breath and it became unfortunate for him because you and Bucky ended up throwing food at him instead.

After dinner, the three of you decided to watch a movie since it was a Friday and none of you had to wake up early the next day. Bucky was picking out a movie, trying to connect his phone to the TV since he found a site that posted movies online without having to leave the comfort of your home and going to the movie theatre.

You quietly sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, waiting for Bucky. Technology wasn’t his thing but you gave him some room to try before you helped. It was the only way he was going to learn and you loved when he figured it out himself, his charming yet victorious smile blossoming across his face when he succeeded.

Steve had filled three bowls of popcorn since everyone ate theirs differently. Bucky didn’t like too much butter but you did and Steve was just in the middle with added caramel popcorn in the mix so it wasn’t unusual when you guys had your own popcorn rather than share it. He strolled into the living room, setting the bowls on the coffee table before deciding to take a seat next to you.

In Steve’s mind, he thought since dinner was successful and you seemed to be in a better mood, you wouldn't mind if he cuddled, missing the warmth of your body and the touch he just craved so often. It relaxed his every sense, any contact sending an electrifying current throughout his body and sparking something in his heart. You felt like home and being touch-starved by you today wasn’t sitting so nicely with Steve.

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, Steve adjusted himself on the couch before feeling his arm being lifted off your shoulders and into his lap.

“Steve, c’ mon babe. I’m really not in the mood. I’m sorry,” you huffed, a tinge of annoyance lacing your words. “I warned you earlier about getting yourself sick.” You scooted away from him, hoping your soft eyes would make up for it but Steve just growled, getting up and fetching his sketchbook from the shelf by the television.

Not only did he sit away from you but he ignored your attention, frustration weighing on his shoulders. He flipped through the pages of his book in search for a clean page to draw his emotions on and you mentally kicked yourself in the ass because you pushed Steve’s limit.

Huffing in remorse, you snuggled against your blanket, cozying up with the soft material that smelled of lavender. Bucky had finally gotten the movie to play, rushed to the couch and decided to sit with you since Steve was sulking on the other couch.

About 45 minutes into the movie, Bucky had his legs spread out, his head resting on the armrest while his body laid straight, his feet almost touching you. Lost in the plot of the film, you hadn’t noticed he pushed his sockless, icy cold feet under your blanket, the warmth wrapping itself around them. It brought a sort of relief that he wanted more warmth. More from you.

So that was when he touched his feet against your heated thighs, his toes digging in and out of your skin as if he was trying to massage you like a cat would knead a pillow. Instantly, you withdrew a breath, your senses coming into reality. The cold shook you like a bolt of lightning, your nerves screaming for an escape. You allow a few minutes to go by, assuming he’d halt his actions. But the longer you waited, the more he thought it was an invitation to continue.

The only solution you knew at the time was to take deep steady breaths, ignoring the fact that his freezing cold feet were touching your hot skin which brought a shiver throughout your body. You already had the chills due to your sickness and Bucky wasn’t making things any better for you now. What was up with your boyfriends today?

“Holy shit,” Bucky laughed at the television, pulling his legs back. You nipped your lips in happiness, doing a small victory dance in your head. Just as you’re getting comfortable again, Bucky placed his feet back in its previous position, causing you to huff out loud.

“Touch me with your cold feet one more time, and see what happens.”

Both Bucky and Steve whipped their heads towards you, their brows knitting together in confusion. You stare back at them, widening your eyes then signaling down with your eyes to show them the issue.

Inhaling deeply, Bucky paused the movie, “Jesus, really? You could’ve just asked me baby before threatening me.”

Those words alone brought a lump of guilt in your throat. You were very snappy today and it wasn’t like you to get this annoyed.

“Fuck, sorry,” you pouted. “I think I should just get to bed and leave you guys alone. I promise to be better tomorrow,” you whined quietly, your eyes darting between the two.

Bucky silently gnawed on his lower lip before turning his attention to Steve and winking at the old soul. Steve himself was utterly confused but he knew that mischievous smirk in Bucky’s eyes which gave him everything he needed to know.

As you were ready to leave the couch, Bucky leaped towards you, trapping your body underneath his as he playfully growled against your neck and jaw. You had no time to react differently, only the sounds of laughter breaking past your lips. Then came his fingers digging in your sides, the familiar zaps of delight coursing through your nerves. Tickling made your body turn into putty because once someone started, it was harder for you to escape their hold than it was to take it all in and not laugh.

Steve took this time to record a video of the events unfolding in front of his eyes, using a filter that made voices very high pitched. It was one of his favorites when he made videos and he couldn’t get over the fact it made people sound like they were on helium.

“Steve! St-stop recording and save m-meee!” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath.

Your shrieks of bliss and neediness were enough for Steve to toss his book to the side and pull Bucky off your body, throwing the brunette to the ground with a loud thud.

“What the fuck, Steve!”

“Save it punk. Meet us in the room,” he breathed out a chuckle, sweeping you off the couch and carrying you to your bedroom. You buried your face into his chest in attempts to hide the growing smile that ached your cheeks even more. But you knew he already saw it and now he was going to make sure he gets all the kisses and cuddles he wants.

Even if that meant getting sick because Steve and Bucky would risk everything for you.

__________

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1085

survey by -egocentricity-

On Myspace, what was in the last bulletin you posted? I haven’t been on Myspace for well over a decade; and even when I was there I didn’t have any friends added nor did I remember ever posting anything. Friendster and Multiply were a lot more popular.

When and where was the last time you took a picture of yourself? I took a selfie last Saturday in the dining room. It’s of me holding up the vape pen that Andi lent me for the meantime to show Angela, since she wanted to see what it looked like.

Have you ever been scolded by a mall cop? I remember being lightly chided once when I was like, 7 – I was leaning on a glass wall of a store in the mall, so the guard from that store nicely told me to get back up to be safe. Overall, I don’t think I’ve ever exhibited behavior in public that should’ve gotten me into trouble.

How often do you catch yourself daydreaming? Definitely not so much these days. I need to keep being preoccupied with work or other things to do/accomplish since my daydreaming always seems to end with thinking of scenarios that now upset me, like, idk, happier times with my ex. I’m tired of letting that happen and always being upset in the end, so I try to avoid getting lost in my thoughts anymore.

What's your favorite thing to think about as you're falling asleep? Idk about you but thinking in general keeps my mind up and racing lol, so when I’m trying to sleep I do my best to black out my mind so that I can doze off.

Is there anything that you want to do, but won't because you're too afraid? So I went to college with this girl - I believe she’s several batches older - who, as soon as she graduated, set out on a hitchhiking journey across the world. She’s been doing it for four years, and I believe she has finally made it to Europe after being stuck in Kazakhstan for a year due to Covid. She’s amazing and her spirit is so fucking beautiful. She has a Facebook page that I actively follow detailing her experiences; but as great as her journey has been, I don’t know and I highly doubt that I can set out for such a demanding, commitment-heavy challenge myself.

Who was the last person to yell at you? My mom is the only person who does that, but she hasn’t done so in a while.

Who gets up the earliest in your household? The latest? My dad, since his work starts the earliest. I will sometimes hear the car engine purring by 5:45 AM. The latest would be my sister, since she stays up the latest as well. I think she’s up by 8 AM, but she doesn’t show up outside of her bedroom until 10 or 11.

Have you ever had a pet walk across your keyboard while you were typing? No, and I am glad that’s the case because both of my dogs are too big and I fear that they could actually snap my laptop in half.

What political issues do you think deserve less attention/worry? No political issue deserves any less attention than others. Political issues always mean that someone is on the losing end and I don’t think it’s fair to compare and decide which ones can be put on the backseat.

Anyway, I do believe it’s not so much the issues that should be compared, but the people in politics who are given the spotlight. Here in the Philippines especially, a lot of celebrities want to have their own political careers (and usually win a seat) despite their zero experience and the media gobbles that shit up all the time, which is disgusting. Related to this, I hope the media makes a consicous effort to wipe Trump out of the headlines once he’s out of office.

Which political issues are you most passionate about? I dunno if I can measure that since I’m pretty vocal about a lot of things. What I can tell you is that in the political issues I have a say in, I always side with the marginalized and the oppressed. IPs, POC, LGBTQ+, immigrants, factory workers, jeepney drivers, contractualized employees, activists, student-activists...my heart has always been with them and their cause.

You're going to your favorite foreign country; what landmarks do you go see? I’m not sure if I have a favorite country, but I’m very picky about landmarks in general anyway. I’d rather experience the local life and eat at smaller local places and go to lesser-known beaches and stuff.

What is the longest amount of time that you have spent away from your home? A little longer than a week, and this was usually when I traveled abroad.

Did the last movie you watched have any emotional effect on you? Yeah, so much so that I was unable to finish it and I had to show up at dinner while still fresh from crying.

What motivates you to go to school? Not applicable to me anymore, but I suppose this can be easily rephrased to mean work. Honestly, my main motivation is the desire to have a perfect record at work lol. I’m super neurotic about this and I hate the idea of being absent or late. Money comes second; I rarely buy stuff for myself so I mostly don’t even realize the money coming in to my account every two weeks. Then third is the desire to be good at my job because I do want to get promoted and rack up more positions as I go along.

How much caffeine have you consumed in one day? The most cups of coffee I’ve had in one day is 3, and that was not an enjoyable experience ha. Right now, I’m on my first cup of coffee.

Are you more hyper and up-tight, or laid back and relaxed? I guess it depends on the situation. I can definitely exhibit either, but my behavior will vary based on the people I’m with and/or how comfortable I am in a certain situation.

When was the last time you heard someone talking about you? Around a week ago. My parents were having dinner separately and I heard my name being mentioned in a few sentences.

How did you pick out your last outfit? I wanted an outfit that was chill and easy to carry around, but would still make me look like I put some effort into picking it out.

When buying shoes, what do you look for in the product? I admittedly like brand names, so that’s the first thing I look at. I also like to keep up with what’s trending, so I look at items in a brand’s catalog that I see more and more people wearing. If it matches with my own personal style, then I keep an eye on it/purchase it altogether.

What happened to cause the last mess you made? The last and current mess I have on me is my work desk, which I’ve since abandoned in favor of my bed + portable desk as my new workspace. Idk, over the Christmas break I just ended up stacking up so much shit on the desk until it became a little too cluttered. I’ve cleaned it up here and there to make the space look neater, but there’s still a lot of stuff.

Are you embarrassed to bring people into your bedroom? Not embarrassed; I just find it unnecessary. My bedroom is too small to host guests and the only times I’ve let someone in there is when I had a significant other. I prefer people to stay in the living room.

When was the last children's birthday party you attended? It was my third cousin Isabella’s 7th birthday party at a Jollibee. Her family has been living in Australia for a while, but I guess they wanted to host a party with their Filipino family so they flew back here to stay for a few days. Because she is my third cousin and because she’s been living in Australia all her life, I don’t actually have any sort of relationship with her lmao but I still made an effort to greet her and stuff.

Are you good at reading other people's body language? Yes, to the point that it contributes to my overall anxiety.

If you're sick, do you go to school or do you stay home [usually]? I rarely get a fever so when I do it feels like actual death. For that reason, I usually have to skip the day and focus on feeling better.

Does chicken noodle soup really make you feel any better? I never had it whenever I’ve felt like crap in the past. I don’t really like soup though, so on a personal level I doubt it would have any effect on me.

What is one meal that you like to eat whilst sick? I don’t have a go-to meal because again, I rarely get sick.

Think of the last survey you filled out; did you enjoy it? Sure, it was easy to digest and it’s the kind that you can take over and over again.

Have you ever fed bread to ducks or geese? I’ve fed bread, but to fish in the sea; not ducks or geese since idk if we have either here other than in zoos. In our trip to Mactan in 2010, I remember how we were allowed to pay a certain small amount to get bread from the resort and proceed to feed the fish swimming around in the beach.

Is it hard to imagine you were ever as small as a 1-2 year old? Yeah, I definitely feel that way sometimes.

What set the tone for your mood today? Eh, I wouldn’t say I had an overall mood today, honestly. It was a normal day at work, maybe a little more uneventful than other days; and I was on top of my tasks so there wasn’t anything to dread or worry about. I was just concentrated on getting the day over with and wasn’t strongly attached to any emotion.

Have you ever set out to ruin someone else's day? I don’t think so.

Have you ever felt like the whole world was against you? It happens sometimes.

The name of the last video game you played? Mario Kart 8 probably? It’s been a while but it’s all I play if I do play a video game, so it’s a safe guess.

The name of the last board game that you played? We whipped out my old box of Trivial Pursuit last November when we didn’t have electricity and internet because of the typhoon.

What was the last thing that you told yourself? I don’t remember the last time I talked to myself, but like two minutes ago I was starting to feel sad so I silently reminded myself to think of positive things.

How many times a day do you wash your face? At least once, in the morning before I start work. I’ve learned that cleaning myself up, even if it’s just splashing water on my face, super helps if I want to start working in a good mood.

Do you remember your D.A.R.E. officer's name? I didn’t have one of those, anddd I’m sure we didn’t have that program here.

Someone throws hot coffee on you; how do you react? It’s taken me a whole goddamn week to finish this survey, lels. Anywho... I think out of instinct I would scream out in extreme agony first? And I’d probably spend the first immediate seconds to try and process what just happened. I don’t know if I would fight back because I’m pretty sure the burns would be hurting too badly for me to focus on revenge.

Is there a high school or college that you would rather be attending? I attended one school from kindergarten to college, and I can’t imagine having attended anywhere else. I had one dream university and I ended up attending it.

Have you ever lived in an apartment or duplex home? Yes, both. My parents lived in an apartment for a few months when I was a newborn. From ages 2-10 I lived in my childhood home, which is actually a duplex. The other house belongs to my grandpa’s late sister and her family.

Has anyone ever commented on your weight? Sure, but I care so little about my weight that they don’t really have an effect on me. The most common one I get is to “eat more.”

Where do you stand when it comes to sexual intercourse? Erm not really lmao. Just do it?? Idk. And just make sure consent is mutual and that you aren’t doing it out of pressure.

Name a show from the 90's that you miss? I guess ‘miss’ is the wrong word since I never watched it while it was ongoing, but I do love Friends. I’m excited to see what they have planned for the reunion episode.

Who provokes your sarcastic side the most? Bad co-workers, but luckily I haven’t had to pull that side of me in a while.

Have you ever thought about joining the military? Never.

When you were little, did you ever stare at disabled or "different" people? Being a kid, I probably did but never thought anything of it during those times. My mom certainly would’ve whooped my ass if I tried to comment anything mean or be a smartass.

Could the contents of your bedroom get you in any trouble? The one thing that would piss my mom off are my vape pens. I still have Gab-related stuff in my room that I’m too lazy to throw out, but I doubt I will get into trouble from those anymore because there has been no relationship to speak of in the last four months.

Do weather patterns sometimes have an effect on your health? Not on my health, but on my mood.

If it snows a lot where you live, do you experience cabin fever? It doesn’t, so idk what this would feel like.

When was the last time someone disapproved of something you were doing? Not entirely sure; this hasn’t happened in a while. Admittedly, as a people pleaser, I thrive on doing what people would want me to do lol.

How good are you at getting along with other people? On a scale of 1 to 10, probably a 9? I’m super nice to everyone and in the end it only really boils down to whether I have chemistry with them or not. If I fail to feel comfortable around someone I’m more likely to stay formal, but I do try to be lively and crack jokes with everyone as much as I can.

Do you consider yourself to be approachable? I want to be and I always try to come off as such, but my resting bitchface hurts that chance sometimes haha.

Do you know anyone that's a little emotionally unstable? Uhm, no one comes to mind.

Have you ever felt like you were going out of your mind? Yes.

Has anyone ever suggested that you might need "help"? I don’t recall being told this by anyone before. But with the way I broadcast my anxiety and sadness from time to time, I’m sure people have thought of it.

Do you take offense to things easily? Yeah you can say that. I’ve always been more sensitive than most.

How do you respond to cheesy pick-up lines? As with any pick-up line, I inwardly roll my eyes and move on.

Do you like to give people a taste of their own medicine? It’s such a waste of time and energy for the most part, so no. But if I feel petty, I have no problem doing it.

How was the service at the last restaurant you visited? It was...fine. Nothing to write home about. It was unlimited Korean barbecue and they actually had a system in place where they gave us a link to some internal website they kept, and we could simply order from there to minimize contact with the servers. I will say that I never got the kimchi jjigae I had ordered, but it was fine because I was full by then lmao.

Are you ever jealous of happy couples? No. I mean, I guess I’m reminded of my loneliness when I see couples in public, but I don’t get jealous or angry. I just shake it off and try to focus on myself.

Describe a thought that is sticking with you today? That I can’t wait for Friday.

Lately, who has spent the most time on your mind? I’ve been thinking more of my anxieties than certain people, tbh.

In a car: air conditioning, or roll the windows down? Air conditioning. Though sometimes it’s nice to have the windows down, especially when I’m driving within my village or up a mountain.

When was the last time you did anything to your playlist? I made an angst-themed playlist over the weekend.

Is there a new song or band you've discovered? Massive Attack. Hayley Williams did a super great cover of their song Teardrop, so I checked out the original version which I also ended up enjoying. Olivia Rodrigo too, who I found out is part Filipino yay!

Which teacher gives you the most homework? My Journalism Ethics professor will probably rank the highest on this list.

What type of personality do you find most annoying? Idk, condescending ones maybe? There are a million kinds of personalities lol, but yeah I hate those who make you feel dumb, and feel good about doing so.

How did you hear about Bzoink? If my memory serves me correctly, my 10 year old self just wanted empty about me surveys to answer. Bzoink was always one of the first websites to come out if I searched for surveys on Google.

How long did it take you to sign up for an account - if you have one? I don’t think I ever made an account on there since I was too shy to share my answers.

Are you punctual? Yes, very.

Have you ever howled at the full moon? No.

Have you ever seen yourself on camera? Like if I’ve seen photos of myself??? I would be very surprised if anyone can say they haven’t.

Do you give any consideration to what's said in your horoscope? No.

When was the last time you felt like you were being followed? This has never happened before, thankfully.

#survey #surveys

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bangtanlalaland · 5 years

Text

in case we die | kth (m.)

synopsis ↳how could you fall for the living when you’re dead? when all you wanted was to haunt the man that murdered you?

— 1980′s!au

→pairing: serial killer!kim taehyung x spirit!female reader ↳featuring: bf!kim seokjin

→genre: smut, angst, low key crack

→word count: 10.3k

→contents ⨯ warnings: 10 year age gap (idk if that’s important lolol), spectrophilia (sexual attraction to ghosts), hybristophilia, lots & lots of angst, tiniest bit of fluff, murder (obvi), obsession, hair kink¿ (is that even a thing?), mentions of death, blood here & there, spirits (duh), swearing, dirty talk, masturbation, voyeurism, orgasms, unprotected sex (protect yourselves!), oral (m receiving), deepthroating, cum swallowing, creampie

↳inspired by: Tinashe’s “In Case We Die” mixtape

☞ disclaimer: Please do not take this story 10000% serious. I promise I’m a normal human being with morals. This body of text is for entertainment purposes only. All characters, settings, scenarios, and dialogue are fictitious. Any similarity to events or persons, whether living or dead, is coincidental.

The flash of lightning from the storm and shuddering sound of thunder overtake the gloomy night. The lock clicks as Taehyung pries open the back door of his neighbors’ family-style home. Silently creeping through the kitchen, the lingering scent of a delicious dinner from hours ago fills his nostrils. His senses are peaking, adrenaline is rushing, skin perspiring.

No, this isn’t his first time killing someone. But it’s the first time that he feels things are a bit off. Like he chose the wrong house kind of off. Sweat drops dripping down his forehead, palms are sweating profusely. He knows every single crack and crevice of this house but the feeling is still uneasy.

He stammers in his tracks, thrown off completely. What is the matter? I’ve been doing this for years, he thinks to himself. Is it the fact that he has history with this family? The numerous framed pictures on the wall catch his attention as he stands before the stairs. Or maybe it’s because of you.

He sees the family portrait, with you placed in the middle surrounded by your parents. His heart suddenly drops. The sight of you staring back at him through the photo causes his fists to clench.

Why does he want to kill you? Should he rethink his entire plan? He was 10 years older than you, but had known you and your family for just as long. He wanted you all to himself. Sure you were a young, eighteen-year old, naive, high school senior but he knew it wouldn’t be possible. Especially since you have a boyfriend.

Prom night was a memory he would never forget. Your parents asked him to escort you and your boyfriend in his stationwagon. When he arrived at your home to pick you up, he admired the way your prom dress hugged your figure in the most sexiest way. So much that it made him have wild thoughts about you, leaving him a horny mess at the end of the night.

He remembers storming into his home and locking his bedroom door shut. His fingers run furiously through his black mullet, chest heaving up and down, sweating profusely. Full of rage, frustration, lust, and regret. He unbuckles his belt to drop his pants and briefs all in one go, aching to release his tension.

His member pops straight up, rock hard as he plops on his bed lying on his back. Closing his eyes and picturing you in your prom dress, he wraps his slender fingers around himself and gradually pumps. “Fuck,” he whispers. If only he could rip the material away from your tight bod to expose what he’s been craving for so long. He relishes in the memory of your bouncy, curled hair, filled of volume and basked in the scent of hairspray.

The simple thought of how it would feel to tug your strands between his fingers whilst he penetrates you. He continues to play your voice over and over again in his mind, when you called his name: “Taehyung!” greeting him with open arms, when he arrived at your home. The tantalizing aroma of your being captivated him in that moment. He pumps faster, the sound of your voice echoing through his eardrums.

Lips begin to part, his breathing hitches in the moment. Your face is all he can see. Your voice is all he can hear. Your scent is all he can smell. Your body is what he needs. His member leaks of pre-cum, coating his tip in the liquid as it oozes out. He lets out a breathy moan, calling your name.

The feeling of your skin clinging to his, while he’s on top of you. Both of your bodies scorching and sticking to one another, binded with perspiration. Your moans escaping your lips from under him, inspiring him to pound deeper into you. Your nails scraping his back, your squeals and cries for him are what send him over the edge.

“Taehyung!” you yelp.

He loosens his grip on his throbbing cock, gently stroking up and down. His chest rumbles as a lengthy moan slips from his lips. His lower area tenses up, and his member spasms. He uses his unoccupied hand to grip his bed comforter, twisting and turning the material around as the pleasure washes over his body. The stream of liquid, pooling from his balls to his tip, shoot up in the air and land back on his pelvic area.

“I’m... cumming, fuck.”

The strands of his jet, black hair soaking in sweat and sticking to his forehead. His eyes flutter open, chest heaving up and down, he continues to escape from his orgasmic high. Taehyung stares up into the ceiling, and takes a deep breath.

He props himself up on his elbows to gaze at the cum that’s smothered on his lower half. If only you were there to clean his mess with your mouth, so that he wouldn’t have to waste another tissue to wipe away his jizz and toss it in the trash. He swears, under his breath, at the thought of it.

Then, he’s reminded just how lonely he is. He couldn’t stand seeing you with your boyfriend. Just the thought that someone else got to touch you, kiss you, and worst of all: fuck you. All the things he’d been dying to do to you. He always wished he could snap your boyfriend’s head to end it all. But he knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

He didn’t want to see you hurt, and most importantly he didn’t want you to hate him. Besides, he knew you would never accept him if you found out he’s a serial killer. For years, he became obsessed with the idea of death. He targeted women, because he knew how much more vulnerable they are than men.

That gave him authority and control. In college, he’d done an ample amount of research on life after death, near death experiences, the supposed “afterlife,” and even spectrophilia. There had been a few rare cases of humans having sexual encounters with ghosts.

He also found that if a spirit was not rested, it would linger on Earth within the Spirit World or “Afterlife” as they call it. And based on the research he had done, spirits mostly were not rested in peace because the body itself was murdered.

That was when the idea sparked.

He had finally came to the conclusion that he has to kill you. If he can’t have you in this life, then he could have you in the afterlife. His plan was going to work, and he was going to make sure of it.

Yet another clash of thunder snaps Taehyung out of the pondering thoughts he’s having of his premeditated actions. He shakes his head. Snap out of it! Must not have any second thoughts at this moment. It’s important to stick to the plan. No distractions.

His eyes follow his path ahead of him. He quietly removes his shoes before proceeding further. His light weight causes a slight creak in the stairs, as he mindfully approaches the second level. His eyes dart toward your room, and his heart beats profoundly.

He continues to scan his surroundings, reassuring that no one was around or watching. Being careful in case someone were to awaken. Lightning strikes again, creating a brief flash of light throughout the home. Taehyung silently treads toward your room. He stops in front of your door, inhaling a deep breath.

Taehyung carefully wraps his hand around the door knob, slowly turning it in a counter-clockwise motion. He takes one last breath before pushing the door open gradually. The slight creak in the door startles him, but he’s back at ease when he steps inside your room to find that you’re still sound asleep under your covers.

The door behind him is shut quietly, and he turns around. He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the aroma of your room. His right hand slips into the knife pocket attached to his jeans, pulling out the weapon with a needy force, exposing the blade of his bowie knife. He places the knife face down and sneaks it between his chest, inside his corduroy jacket. He continues to stand there simply admiring the view of you in your slumber.

It’s time to put an end to it all.

It’s Sunday in the month of May. You’re home alone with your parents enjoying the remainder of the night. Seated on the couch between your parents, you hear a ding! Your mouth waters at the sound of the microwave beeping. Your buttery popcorn is ready.

You hurriedly skip to the kitchen before the next program on TV comes on. The air from the steamy kernels fills your senses. You quickly grab one of those big, plastic bowls to dump the popcorn in.

“Sweetheart, it’s the news!”

Coming! you respond. You make it back to the living room and plop down on the sofa. The TV stutters a few times, as it did 20 minutes ago. This time your dad gets out of his comfy spot and he does not look happy.

“Goddammit! Nancy, I told you we shouldn’t have bought this from that damn yard sale. You know Tim would sell a lemon for a car if his life depended on it.”

“Oh hush it, Carl. At least we have some kind of entertainment. Right, sweetheart?” your mother asks directing to you.

You nod your head while stuffing your mouth with popcorn. Your dad continues to swear under his breath and pound on the TV with his fist. He fumbles with the antenna and the television gradually comes back to life.

“There we go,” he says, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and finding his way back to his spot beside you on the sofa.

I repeat. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News. For anyone that is just now tuning in.. Today we have received new information from the local police department on “The Silent Creeper” who has yet striked again.

“Are they still trying to find that crazy man killing all of those women?”

“Last I heard he was about 10 miles from here.”

“10 miles?!”

You can’t hear reporter John at this point, with your parents going back and forth, “Shhh!”

The three of you stare at the TV, in need of answers. Someone hands the reporter a vanilla folder.

“I will now read the statement that the police department has released.”

“To the townspeople, we want to make everyone aware that our team is working diligently to capture the criminal that has continued to terrorize the surrounding areas for the past 3 years, but whom has now reached our town as well. The Silent Creeper was last seen in our town on Friday night.”

You hear your mom gasp. “Oh my God! Friday was prom night!”

“Mom!”

“He assaulted a victim with a deadly weapon and attempted to strangle her with a telephone cord, only to be startled when the cord sparked as the victim was still alive. Realizing that he had not succeeded, he fled the scene. Unfortunately, we had not been able to arrive on scene in time enough to catch him from the time the victim called the station.”

“As each day passes, we are getting closer to putting The Silent Creeper to an end. In addition, we were able to get a brief description from the victim. He is a fair-skinned male standing at about or around 6 feet tall with black hair, medium length. Long enough to touch the base of his neck along with bangs that cover his eyebrows. He is said to have large hands and a slim figure, carrying a knife blade. He is also known to have a hair fetish, collecting samples of head hair from his victims.”

“We ask that everyone locks their doors and windows. Please leave at least one light on in your home that can be visible in the front section of your home, as well as your front porch light. We advise that no one goes out at night unaccompanied. We highly recommend that no one leaves their homes past 10 p.m. whether accompanied or not, until we catch this criminal. Should you have any dire reason to leave your home past those hours, please call the station before doing so.”

“Lastly, we ask that everyone remains calm but stay alert and aware of your surroundings. Please do not answer your doors for anyone late at night, unless you are expecting a visitor. We are currently working on a sketch of the criminal and plan to release it by tomorrow afternoon. Should anyone have any information regarding this case, please give the station a call.”

“Well, there you heard it. Stay safe out there, folks. This is John Turner with Channel 4 News, signing off.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and the program shuts down. Leaving the TV screen in a color coded background. Your mouth is agape, not believing that the town you grew up in is now not safe. The one place that you called your home, is now a prison.

“He was here?” you slip.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” your mother says with a pokerface.

“Honey, don’t worry. Everything is going to be fine,” your father responds almost nonchalantly.

“Don’t worry?! Everything is going to be fine? There is a murderer out on the loose and that could have been OUR daughter! She was out all night for prom with Jin!”

Your head begins to throb with a slight pain, hearing your parents constant bickering. You place the popcorn bowl on the couch and get up to walk towards the stairs, but stop in your tracks and rub your temples with the tips of your fingers.

“Yeah, at the school! That’s why Taehyung escorted them both! At least we are well aware of what the hell is going on in this damn town so we can be prepared!”

“Oh, it’s just so easy for you to brush this off because you are too wrapped up in that... that job of yours to be concerned about your own child’s safety!”

“I don’t have to put up with this! If it makes you feel any better, I do care about Y/N’s safety! She is MY daughter.”

“Well if you care, Carl. Start acting like it!”

You finally crack. “ENOUGH!”

Both of your parents snap towards you.

“Can you both please just stop? It doesn’t make the situation any better with you two arguing.” You pause for a brief moment, recollecting your thoughts.

“Dad, it’s okay if you’re scared. I know your my father and I know you feel obligated to protect me. But I want you to know that I know you’re human. I know you aren’t invincible. And there’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

They both look at each other then drop their heads low.

“Mom, I don’t want you to worry yourself to death. Dad’s right, I was with Jinnie and Taehyung on prom night. And nothing happened. Maybe it’s for a reason. We just have to believe that everything will be okay. At least we know now what we should be aware of and what to do to protect ourselves. I love you both.”

Your dad looks up and walks towards you, with your mother following behind him.

“We love you more, pumpkin.” He states with open arms, embracing you with a hug filled with love. You mother joins the two of you, wrapping her arms around you both.

Meanwhile, Taehyung sits in the dark, at his kitchen table, sipping coffee. He stares into space. Today’s newspaper article sits in front of him on the table, with the headline that reads:

THE SILENT CREEPER STRIKES AGAIN!

He knows he’s fucked. He sips the last swig of his coffee, rises from his seat, and angrily throws the mug at the wall ahead him, the ceramic pieces shattering onto the cold tile.

His fingers find the newspaper, and he tears it apart. Paper pieces landing on the ground. Rage fills his being and he lets out an absurd growl, while pounding on the kitchen cabinets. He runs his hands through his dark mullet, replaying Friday night over and over again in his head.

After coming home that night and releasing his tension, he was alone and he knew it. He needed another rush. Something to get him going. Something to get you off of his mind, because you were all he could think about.

So, what did I do wrong? What is happening to me? What if they catch me? Numerous questions continue to run through his mind. He had been doing this for over 3 years. Why would it all end now?

He's like an expert at this. If he gets caught now, that means all of his work meant nothing. All those times, he had elaborate plans and every one fell through perfectly. So what is the difference now?

He rests his hands on the counter with his arms extended all the way out. Sweat trickles down his forehead as his breathing calms down. The kitchen is filled with silence, leaving a ringing noise in his ears when suddenly it stops as his eyes trail up and through his kitchen window.

The blinds to the window in your room were open, and he could see you. Then it finally hit him, it was like a light-bulb flicked on with an idea in his head. He realizes that he can’t function because of you. You are a distraction. You are ruining his ways. And it is in this moment, Taehyung realizes that he has to kill you tonight.

Before he gets caught for good.

You remember your last night on Earth as if it were yesterday, literally. It wasn’t until you felt an unbearable stinging sensation on your neck that you had awaken from your deep sleep. You felt a warm liquid pooling from your throat, delaying your breathing. Your eyes shot open, and there was Taehyung Kim towering over you. Small spurts of blood shot onto him, covering his cheeks, chin, and forehead.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was him. The man you called your neighbor for so many years. Whom you trusted your entire life. You would have never guessed that it was him all along. That he’s The Silent Creeper.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of his knife, as he held it up. With a hungry force, he plunges the knife into your abdomen. Completely taking your breath away. As much as you tried to fight, you couldn’t.

He had you pinned down with his thighs. You couldn’t move or scream. His large, cold hand covered your mouth to conceal any noises you attempted to make. He removes the blade from you and plunged into you again, causing you to choke. You gather up enough strength to claw at his biceps with your nails, only to fail because of the jacket that conceals his arms.

It was useless.

You knew that it was over. You were going to die. You try opening your mouth to question him. To beg him to stop what he was doing. To probe him as to why he was doing this.

Had I done something wrong? Did I say something wrong? What could cause him to kill me? Why would he want to kill me?

But the last plunge into your tummy makes your hands drop. Noticing this, he drops the knife on the floor and busies himself by cutting a portion of your hair.

Bringing it to his nose to take a lengthy wauf of it, he inhales deeply into his lungs. Your vision blurs as you lose consciousness. You attempt to grab him again, only being able to reach his right cheek. You wanted to scratch his face, to dig into his flesh in hopes that he would makes enough noise to awaken your parents.

But you didn’t have the strength. Unfortunately your hand could only caress him instead. Something you did not want to do. Your hand slowly lost its control as it slid down from his face, to his chest, then to his abdomen, and finally plopped onto his thigh.

Your breathing stopped, but your eyes remained open. You can no longer move, not even a finger. That’s when you knew you were dead. It was strange at first. When you realized you were no longer looking up into his eyes.

Instead, you were watching him from above. Like a birds view.

Where am I? Why am I not lying in bed? I mean, I am still in bed but it’s like I’m floating in the air, staring at my body lying in bed.

You watch Taehyung as he observes your body drenched in a pool of blood, that continues to soak your bed sheet. He simply sits there, tilting his head left and right and caressing your cheek.

“Why couldn’t you just stay out of my way?”

He takes another sniff of your luscious locs in his hand. What does he mean by that? How was I in his way? You attempt to reach out to him but nothing happens. You have no arms, no hands, no fingers. Nothing. You were just there. The fact that you’re dead and can no longer defend yourself, let alone stop him, pissed you off.

“Now look at you. My work here is done.”

His work? What?

He may be “done” with whatever it is he’s talking about, but you weren’t. And you were going to make sure of it. Once you figure out how you can control what’s happening to you. You take a moment to accept what’s already happened.

So why now? You hadn’t even begun to start your life. Graduation was this week, and you couldn’t even make it! And Jin? You can’t imagine how devastated he would be once he finds out you’re dead, murdered actually. Is there anyway you could see him for just one last time?

All you want is to see his gorgeous face light up as his plump, pink lips curl up into the brightest smile that could blind anyone that looks his way. It hurts you to know that you couldn’t even say goodbye. Or just a simple I love you. Just one more time. You needed him, and you know if he could have been there for you to save the day then he would have done so and much more.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you noticed Taehyung lifts himself off of you, planting his feet on the floor of your room. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and cracks his neck. What is wrong with him? How could one be so cruel? You always saw him to be such a gentleman. Guess you never really knew him all along.

Taehyung kneels down to grab his knife, and quietly sneaks out of your room. You can’t believe that he manages to escape, without a trace. Without anyone knowing what has happened. Only you knew who killed you. You knew who The Silent Creeper is, and there’s nothing you could do about it.

You can’t stop him. You can’t just call the police station to let them know: “Hey guys! You know that creepy guy that’s been killing all those women? Yeah, The Silent Creeper. He’s actually my neighbor. Oh, how do I know? Because he killed me!”

You’re filled with a grand amount of anguish just thinking about it. Your killer walks free as if nothing has happened, as if he didn’t just stab and slice you to your death. You want to scream, fight, hell maybe even just pound on something. But you can’t. You’re stuck “here,” whatever “here” is.

And you want out. You want to end his life. Just as he ended yours. But you won’t back down, not until he gets what he pays for. Even if it takes to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He will pay.

I’ve got to get out of here. You attempt to walk, knowing that you can’t yet you try anyway. But instead of actually moving, you find a way to float down, so now you’re eye-level with your surroundings - as if you were actually walking. Your essence floats throughout the room. You focus your direction towards your room door and just like that you float straight through it and now you’re on the other side.

You continue to float, making your way to your parents room, just so you could see them one last time. You find them sound asleep. The anguish slowly dissipates, and now there’s an overwhelming feeling of gloom. You didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Your mother lays there on her side, as you watch her chest heave.

Your father on the right side lies on his back, snoring with his mouth open. You approach your mother closer, and try yet again to touch. Just to see if she could feel your presence. You reach out to her, hopefully that you could feel her and her hair strands rise up into the air. She shifts tosses over in the bed; and you immediately let her strands go, afraid that you might awaken her.

I love you mom. I love you dad.

After leaving your parents room, you guide yourself downstairs and through the front door. Then, the world you see from your perspective is revealed. It’s quiet, cold. Everything just seems blue. And there are others like you. Ghosts, souls, spirits, or whatever you call them. They float through the night. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before. It’s almost like another world.

Where am I? Is this where people go when they die? If so, what is “this” called?

Faint whispers echo around you. You can’t quite hear what is being said or who is saying it. Then a sudden voice from behind scares you.

“Hey.”

You’re startled to find a spirit within your path. She was beautiful, but she seemed young. Maybe just as you or younger.

“Hi?”

“My names Katie. And you?”

You continue to observe your surroundings, noticing you both are now the only ghosts in plain sight.

“My name is Y/N. Where exactly am I?”

She clears her throat, attempting to speak.

“Well, you’re in the Spirit World as we call it.”

Your eyes widen. Spirit World? Seriously, what the hell is going on?

“I don’t understand. Why am I here? I mean.. I know that I died, but.. why here? Why do I have to be here?”

She watches you in concern, gathering up the correct words to explain.

“Please, come with me. I will tell you as we float.”

Katie leads you on the way down the road of the town. She explains that souls wander Earth when they haven’t been rested. In your case, your soul was not rested because someone murdered you. She also made it clear that throughout time, you’ll find yourself shifting into different ambiences, usually replaying old memories or high peaks during your previous life; or sometimes shifting due to something deeper - such as a premonition. You also learned that she’s 18, just like you.

“Well, if that’s true then were you murdered?” You question her, curious to know as if any more information would make you grow more at ease.

“Yes, I actually was.” She whispers, barely audible.

“Do you also know who your killer is?” She grows silent. You almost take it as a sign that she wouldn’t answer you.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me.” You plead, feeling a slight bit of guilt.

“It’s.. it’s okay. It was my mother that murdered me.”

Your jaw drops, and you immediately feel a thousand times worse for even asking.

“Katie.. I-I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you feel. How long has it been?”

“18 years.”

You’re confused as you ask, “18 years? But you said you’re 18?”

“Oh, silly me. I also forgot to mention that in the Spirit World, you don’t age.”

It all makes sense now. Which brings you to yet another question.

“Well, how come you’re still here? I mean, after all those years. I’m sure that we don’t just die to be stuck in the world we once were in, right?”

“That is true, but from meeting others like us, I’ve learned that the reason why souls like mine end up trapped is because our killer is still alive. And in my case, my mother is still alive, even though she’s been captured for her crime many years ago.”

You both re-approach the street where your house sits next to Taehyung’s. Then, immediate thought hits you. What if he gets caught? Then what? I’ll still be stuck here? I don’t want to be here forever. I want peace. Everlasting peace. You attempt to probe Katie with more questions, but as soon as your mouth parts, all you can grasp is that your surroundings are swiftly changing, as if you’re slipping into a different atmosphere.

“Shit, Katie! Everything is changing! What do I do?”

“It’s okay. Remember? It’s totally normal! You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Everything around you dissipates, until there is absolutely nothing left. You watch as your home vanish piece by piece before your eyes. Your mouth flies agape, paired with that feeling of somber again. Your cries can’t be heard, as you helplessly reach out to the place you once called home. The one place you don’t want to leave. Everything you’ve ever felt and experienced was in that house. As the last remaining portion of your home dissolves, you immediately feel yourself being pulled down into a vacuum. It’s pitch black.

No air, no light, no humans, no spirits, just pure blackness. The feeling of a wet substance under you causes you to look down. Water? Your eyes trail up ahead of you, and you’re stunned to find Taehyung yet again. He looked as if he was in a rush. He removed his jacket, flannel, boots, and jeans.

Hurriedly throwing his belongings into the washer. He bends down to grab a box of baking soda, pouring copious amounts on his clothes, and slamming the washer door shut. The atmosphere ascends, slowly piecing itself together. A few blinks later and you realize that you’re in the basement of his home. He rushes up the stairs and slams the basement door shut, locking it. You continue to observe the area.

Your attention is caught by a small area behind you in the corner. You lightly float to the spot and pull the light metal beads that hang from the light which sits above you. The light flicks on, and you’re instantly taken away. It’s an entire wall of newspaper articles about The Silent Creeper and photos of numerous women that were reported missing and/or bodies have been found.

You scan through each report, only to find that all of them had things in common. They were stabbed to death, with patches of their hair missing. You also noticed for each photo he had of every victim, their wads of hair were attached to them.

Are these all of the women he’s killed? If so, then why? What possesses him to commit such horrid acts?

Then you noticed your photo, along with your hair attached to it. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud thud from above.

Curious to know, you move up the stairs and through the basement door. You float through his home, searching for the source of the noise you heard. You make a slight left turn after passing the kitchen, and gently walk down the hall. You hear faint sounds coming from the room at the end of the hallway.

Ones that sounded like… moans.

The door slightly cracked, you peeked through the small space that granted you access to see. Taehyung plops onto his bed, and you’re startled when you see he’s furiously pumping his erect member.

“Ugh, Y/N.”

You stop dead in your tracks when he mentions your name. Are you kidding me? He kills me just a few minutes ago, and now he’s moaning my name while jacking off?! That’s it! I’ve had enough! That feeling of rage courses throughout your spirit, and you forcefully enter the room he’s in, before thinking of what you are doing.

Taehyung hears a slight creak from the door and feels a gush of wind washing through him. His eyes immediately snap open and he flinches. Goosebumps appear on his arms. He stares into the space where the door is and looks like he’s seen a ghost, literally. He notices that the door is open – more than what he originally positioned it.

Did the door just move on it’s own? He thinks to himself.

Oh shit, you thought. Can he see me?

He quickly pulls his white undergarment over his member, and slowly walks toward the door. You simply stand there, shocked at what just happened. He treads through you and peeks down the hallway. His deep voice resonates within the home.

“Hello?”

Nothing and no one responds.

“Is anyone there?”

Still no response. He takes this as a sign and steps back into the room, shutting the door behind him. He walks through you again and falls back onto the bed, removing his tight fitted briefs staring at the door. Cock springing free, he bends his arm in a “V” shape and rests it behind his head.

His fingers find his cock again and he pumps slowly. Pre-cum dripping from within his tip, creating a squelching noise as he continues to pump. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable watching your killer masturbate. But, you have to admit that he does look hot.

After all, he’s a guy. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive. Of course, you always thought he was. But, that’s besides the point. You shake your thoughts off, and focus on the real reason as to why you’re here. Which brings you to more questions…

Why am I here? What am I to do to him? If I couldn’t physically touch him, how could I ever hurt him? How am I supposed to kill him? Do I even want to kill him? I just want all of this to end already. I need answers, but most of all I need Seokjin. I have to find a way to get to him.

Maybe I could write a note or something. To tell him I miss him and love him, and that even though I’m gone, I will never forget him. But how could I do that? If no one can see me, feel me, or touch me, how could I ever say goodbye to Jin who was once my boyfriend?

“Ahh, baby. Fuuuck, cumming.”

You’re interrupted by the sounds of Taehyung moaning again. Your gaze trails over to him on the bed, pumping furiously as streams of white sperm gush from his throbbing member. He moans your name over and over again as if it were a chant. You’re disgusted and amused all at the same time.

You simply cannot comprehend how he could jack off after murdering someone. He’s seriously sick. If he just killed you, why would he moan your name as he orgasms? It just doesn’t make sense. You can’t take seeing anymore of him, as you’re convinced he’s mentally ill. No person with benevolence would do such a thing.

Let me out of here! I have to see my boyfriend. Please! I just need to see him.

Once again, the atmosphere deteriorated. Gradually shifting the ambience.

The world pieced itself together once again, and here you are standing in the gym entrance of your high school. The sound of music booming from inside, students standing in line waiting to enter the building, and roars emanating from cars entering the parking lot.

Prom night? But... why am I here?

You stand there dumbfounded. Then the sight of you and Jin walking with arms interlinked catches your attention.

You wouldn’t want to spend your prom night with anyone else other than your boyfriend Seokjin Kim. You were attired in a hot pink satin dress, with ruffles at the bottom and on the shoulders paired with the white corsage. Your hair was curled in the most bounciest way. Jin stood tall, wearing a black and white tuxedo along with a hot pink bow tie, rocking his signature dirty blonde mullet.

Before entering the schools gymnasium, you look back to find Taehyung’s stationwagon is still parked at the entrance. He waves you both off. Jin nudges your arm to get your attention.

“Babe, look!”

You both stare at how well everything came together. Admiring the streamers and disco balls hanging throughout the gym, the confetti scattered over the floor, and the heart pounding bass of Wham! playing.

“Woah, the school committee really did an amazing job!”

Jin spies the area where the photographer is taking photos of each couple in front of a backdrop.

“Hey, let’s go get our picture taken!” he pulls you along with him, almost making you tumble.

On the other side, Taehyung still stands in the same spot from when you last saw him. He takes a deep breath while making his way into the automobile, closing the door shut. He rests his head on the steering wheel.

If only I could have her instead of that douche bag of a boyfriend she has.

He sits there contemplating on his next move. What should he do? Should he stay here? Or should he leave then return an hour later? He needs to blow off some steam, and being here another second is not helping him at all. He slips the key in the ignition and pushes the gas pedal with his foot, taking off into the night.

After releasing his tension at home, he still felt like something was missing. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he needed so desperately for it to stop. And he needed it to stop now. He hopped back in his stationwagon to scout for his next victim. Several minutes later and he finds a ranch on a farm.

He parks his car, and reaches under the seat to grab his infamous knife. He exits the vehicle and pops the trunk to acquire a tire iron then hikes up the trail towards the home. It was a small home, and no lights were on. He assumed whoever was inside may have been asleep, noticing a car parked in the driveway.

Gripping the tire iron firmly, he makes his way toward the back of the home to find an entrance inside. To his luck, he finds a back door and smashes the lock with the tire iron, prying the door open. He quietly steps inside and just when he thinks he’s got things under control. An older female flicks the kitchen light on, startling Taehyung.

“Shit,” he drops the tire iron on the floor.

The woman lets out a piercing screech and rushes over to reach the rotary phone on the wall.

“Hey! Get back here!”

Ignoring his commands, she grasps the phone, yet it slips between her fingers as Taehyung races toward her and plunges her against the wall with his body, pulling her away from the phone and against him. He wraps his arms around her, holding her still.

“No! No, please don’t! No, I don’t want to die, please!” The woman sobs, as her fingers graze across Taehyung’s jacket.

“Now, now don’t worry. It’s okay. Shh, shhh..” Taehyung whispers, caressing her face as he slips his other hand into his pocket to obtain his clippers.

“Please don’t hurt me, I promise I won’t say anything!”

Taehyung chops a wad of the woman’s hair, taking in a quick sniff before stuffing it into his pocket along with the clippers. The woman gathers enough strength to kick Taehyung in the knee. He groans at the pain and releases his grasp around her.

“Ahhh, fuck! You bitch!”

He limps to the tire iron and lunges it toward the woman’s head, causing her to drop on the floor of the kitchen. She lies there with a small gash to the head, blood slowly streaming down her face.

Taehyung bends over to pick up the phone that was hanging on the ground. He kneels down to lift the woman up, wrapping the cord around her throat.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you off that easily.”

Despite her breathing, he pulls the cord tighter around her throat, attempting to strangle her to ensure she was dead. And out of nowhere a powerful spark emits from the cord and the woman’s eyes shoot open. Taehyung bounces up on his feet and stares in awe, the woman gradually awakens and coughs, using her arms to prop herself up on the floor.

She turns her gaze to him, getting one glance before he storms off into the night. He bolts down the trail, panting, and nearly out of breathe. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His plans never failed. His fingers shaking, he fumbles around in his jacket pocket to get the car keys so he can open the door.

Moments later, he’s speeding down the road, en route to the high school.

Someone had clearly spiked the punch, because after a few cups, you and Jin suddenly became hornier than usual. And after a few dances, it really set the mood. “Careless Whisper” started playing. It was your favorite song and he knew it.

“Come on Jinnie, dance with meeee.” You whined, pulling on his arm.

“Babe, I’ll be right back I promise okay? I have to pee really bad.”

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise.”

“Bring me back more punch!”

He smiles at you and blows a kiss, walking away to the boys restroom.

You couldn’t believe that you didn’t notice this that night. But Jin never went to the restroom. Your spirit follows him as he sneaks out of the gym door, and entered the hallway of the school. He kept looking back, to make sure no one was following or watching him.

At the end of the hall, he makes a left turn. And enters one of the classrooms, shutting the door behind him. It was Mr. Hopper’s chemistry class. What’s he doing in there? You’re startled when you peek through the window of the door. He was inside with another girl.

You float inside the room to find that he was making out with her. Oh my God! He cheated on me with Jessica Jefferson?! The rudest, blondest bitch of the school. She runs the clique with other mean bitches and they always torment freshman.

That familiar feeling of rage fills you. You’d been dating Jin since junior year. Everything was perfect. I mean, sure you both had arguments here and there. But you both were inseparable. You were convinced that you’d spend the rest of your life with him.

Is this why I’m here? To see that he cheated on me?

You decided to leave the classroom and check on your human self. You remembered sitting on the bleachers of the gym, waiting for your boyfriend to return. You also remembered seeing Taehyung through the door of the gym entrance. You waved at him at first, with a bright smile. But, he didn’t wave back. He simply stood there, eyeing you like a hawk.

It was such an uncomfortable feeling. You awkwardly look over to the students dancing, to try and break the eye contact. After a few beats, you look back to see if he’s still standing there but he wasn’t. Just like that, he was gone. Why was he watching you? More importantly, how long was he standing there watching you until you noticed? You never understood why. That is, until now.

"Boo!”

You screamed as your boyfriend startled you from your trance.

You shove him on his arm. “Asshole! Why would you do that?”

“I’m sorry, babe. Just thought it would be funny.” Your expression gives it away, as you continue looking at the door Taehyung was standing behind.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing. Let’s just go.” You grab Seokjin’s hand.

“Hey, I know the perfect place.” You stare into his almond-shaped eyes, admiring the way they curl as he smiles.

You follow yourself as Jin drags you to the boys locker room.

Although, you’re still curious to know why you’re back at prom night, this day merely now a memory. You watch as the being that was once you, straddled Jin on the bench before the lockers. Your tongues dancing with each other.

He supports your back with his hands, running down to your waist. Your fingers tugging through the thick strands of his mullet, while your hips grind onto his erect member that hides underneath his suit. Gushes of arousal coat your panties.

“Mmm, babe. I’m so horny for you,” Jin moans.

He plants kisses along your jaw, your head falls back taking in the nostalgic feeling all awhile simultaneously laughing. The alcohol clearly in your system. You bring yourself up to whisper in his ear.

“Let me suck you off, baby.”

You stand up to give him room to remove his trousers and briefs in one go. His cock is rock hard, sprouting up and free. You bend over to drop a line of spit on his cock, using your hand to spread it all over his shaft. He hisses at the feeling of your warms hands massaging his member.

“You’re so hard, Jinnie.” You giggle as you let yourself down on your knees. You tease him, first giving his tip a few kitten licks before opening your mouth wide enough to fit his thick cock inside. You enclose your mouth around him, gaining another moan.

He watches you from above, teeth grazing against his bottom lip.

“Yes, Feels... so good.”

His hips buck, moving to the rhythm of your mouth. You use his thighs as leverage. Moans escape you as he continues his pace, sliding his lengthy cock against the soft texture of your tongue. Saliva trailing from your mouth onto his member, and back toward you sliding down your chin and neck.

Jin places his hand on the back of your head to push his cock further down your throat.

“Fuck.. Just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”

The gargling sound of your spit echoes throughout the room. The stretch your throat feels from his cock causes your eyes to water, making it difficult to keep them open.

“Look at me, babe.”

You follow his commands and look up at him. The sight of you stuffed full of him in your mouth along with watery eyes is nearly enough for him to climax all over your face. The burn in your lungs to breathe approaches. You graze your nails rapidly against his thighs hoping he would get the memo. Thankfully, he pulls out the way out.

You let go of his cock with the sound of a pop, taking a deep inhale to regain your breathing back. You look up at him while pumping his cock in your palm.

“Jinnie.. do you love me?”

His eyes widen at your question.

“Are you kidding? Of course I love you, baby. You’re my everything.” He wipes away the tear that falls from your eye, still gathering your breath together from the deepthroating session. With a lustful look in your eyes, you plead,

“Show me, then.” His lips curl into that gorgeous smile. He guides you up on your feet.

“Bend over,” he commands. You support your weight on the bench with your arms, doing as he tells you so. You feel your dress being lifted up. His fingers trace along the shape of your vulva, feeling the dampened material.

“How horny are you, baby?”

“Mmm so horny. Please just show me already.”

His fingers find the seam of your panties, pulling them all the way down until the drop to the floor. He licks to the pads of his fingers and rubs them along your folds.

“Wow, so wet. Just how I like it.”

Your pussy pulses, aching to feel his cock inside of you. A small groan leaves your lips.

“You want me baby?” He coos while brushing his soaked member across your drenched folds.

“Yes, please. Need your cock.”

His hand grips your waist while the other eases himself in you. The bulbous tip stretching your lips, causing you to whine. Your wet coats his cock as a lubricant as he pushes in further, making it easy to slip in all the way.

He uses his remaining hand to place on your waist and he completely bottoms you out.

“Fuck, Jinnie!”

“I love you, baby.” He pulls out of you completely and rams back all the way in, balls deep inside your pussy, making you buck forward and your mouth to fly open with a gasp.

“I love you too... Oh my gosh, so deep.”

Your arms reaches around to push him back, attempting to ease his pace, but he slams harder into you. You claw his thigh with your nails, in response. The pain of him pounding himself deep inside you, hitting your cervix combined with the pleasure of your walls being stimulated leaves you in a state of reverie.

“Mmm, I love your pussy and how tight you are around me. Wanna make you cum all over my cock, babe. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes! I can, baby.”

Jin picks up the pace, literally hammering into you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass, mixed with your moans, ricochet off of the walls. He licks the pad of his fingers and reaches down to rub your clit in circles. Applying just the right amount of pleasure.

Your spirit continues to watch, remembering that prom night was not only the last time you’d saw your boyfriend but it was also the last time you both had sex with each other. You miss the way he felt inside of you. He filled every bit of you and never failed to please you in the most sensual way. He always made sure you orgasmed before him.

“Oh, Jinnie... I’m cumming, baby!”

“Yeah? Cum all over my cock, babe. There you go...” Your walls pulse rapidly around his length and your body trembles below him. The constant contractions of your kitty around Jin causes him to twitch inside of you.

“Oh, babe! Fuck..” His cock shoots streams of his warm jizz, coating your inner walls white. He holds himself inside, making sure to bury his seed deep within your core. Your legs still shaking, he holds you to support you up from your orgasm still washing over you as thick ropes of his cum oozes out of your pulsing core. He bends over to whisper.

“Do you believe me now?”

Funny that he asked me that in the moment. Because I actually believed him. I really loved him. And I thought he loved me too. So, why would he do this to me? He continued acting like nothing ever happened. He lied to me. He never went to get punch. Would he even care that I died? What am I supposed to feel like now?

That familiar feeling of rage returns again, and you storm out of the lockers room. This time, you decide to find your way to Taehyung. Maybe you can get an answer as to why he was staring at you.

You find him sitting in his stationwagon, in the parking lot of the school, frozen. A million questions run through his mind. He’s lost, and he knows he’s doomed for good. Gently floating inside, you sit in the passengers seat. His hands are nervously rubbing his thighs up and down. As if, he were afraid of something. Then you’re shocked to hear him speak.

“I have to kill her... but when? And how? What if I try and things don’t work out just like tonight. What will happen then? Was this a sign?”

His fingers trail through his mullet, and he keeps looking back.

“Fuck! I don’t know what to do. Don’t know what to do.”

He was talking about me? Wasn’t he?

“She’ll never accept me for who I am. I just want her. Want her so bad. Why can’t I just have her, God? Why?!”

Was he into me this whole time? Is that why he killed me? Because he somehow thought we could be together?

As time went on, you still roamed the Earth as a spirit. The sketch of The Silent Creeper had been released, and it wasn’t long until everyone figured out it was none other than Taehyung Kim. The town constantly tortured him. Kids threw eggs at his home windows, others threw rocks at his car, and some teenagers spray painted on his garage door:

MURDERER LIVES HERE

But you were there for him through it all. The night he’d found out that you were here all along, startled him. Even though it was part of his plan. There was a sense of pride that filled him, knowing that it had worked. But as the days came and went for some reason, you felt drawn to him. You thought at first maybe it was because of pity, but it was something that pulled you in closer. That made you more vulnerable. Maybe it was the sex? As the weeks went by, you both continued having sex with each other. You never thought it was even possible to have sex as a ghost, but here you are yet again.

“Oh fuck, baby.. yes! Just like that, Y/N. Don’t stop.” Taehyung moans as you continue to ride his cock. From his point of view, it literally looks like he’s fucking air. But his eyes are closed, as all he can imagine is your tits bouncing up and down, your head falling back with lips parted, relishing in the way his cock feels filling up your walls. He feels the warm, wet of your arousal clenching tight around him. He uses the palm of his hand to grip your hips, helping to guide you up and down on his cock.

He feels your walls suddenly escaping from him, and he frowns. Looking down at his throbbing, stiff member. Then a warm slick feeling encases his cock, and traces of saliva are visible. He throws his head back after realizing you’re sucking him off. His fingers reach out into the air, wanting to find where your hair is so that he can feel you. A small smirk appears on his face when his fingers are finally entangled in your mane.

It’s smooth, silky, and feels like Heaven between his fingers. He tightens his grip, pushing your head further down onto his cock. He watches as his member leaks of pre-cum, mixed with your arousal and saliva. The mixture streaming all the way down to his balls. He’s on the verge of cumming any moment now. He feels the texture of your tongue along the underside of his shaft, moving down to his testicles. Your nails gently grazing across his thighs, leaving behind a small trace of scratches.

His breathing hitches, as he feels himself near his orgasm. You hold his cock in your throat, swallowing him whole and you take this chance to hum. Your vocal cords vibrating around his cock. The sensation deep within the pit of his groin bursts. His eyebrows furrowing together at how intense his orgasm feels.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

The muscles of his pelvic area tenses up, his cum shooting into streams down your throat. He watches as it disappears into thin air. He knows you’ve swallowed his seed. He sighs of relief, completely satiated of his hungry desire for you. That is, for now. Chills run through him as he feels your lips pressing against his. His eyes naturally closing.

What feels like your hands gripping his arms, caressing his sides, makes him melt within your touch. He reaches his hand up, caressing what feels like your cheek. He doesn't want to stop kissing you. He’s waited for what felt like an eternity for this. In an instant, you pull away. Watching him as his eyes slowly open.

How have I come to fall in love with a murderer?

Taehyung’s confession on prom night had continued playing itself over in your thoughts. Leading up to now, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since. After thinking of the first time when you visited him, and he saw the door open when no one was physically there, you contemplated visiting him again. It was the first time you both had sex, ever. Well more specifically with you as a ghost.

Just as before, he was in his room masturbating. This time he was fully naked and his door was opened wide. He was a lot more lanky than you thought, with a faintly visible six pack. His hand slithered up and down his shaft, and small moans escaped from him. You actually loved the sight of him getting off. It’s pretty hot.

You had taken the chance to show him you’re here, just as he always wanted. It was that day you learned Taehyung isn’t able to exactly see you, but he can feel you. As if you are actually there, in the spirit. Either way, the sex was like no other. He even told you that he was ready to die, just so that he could actually be with you. Not only to feel you, but to see you. Touch you physically. You being there as a ghost was like a hallucination for him, and he knew eventually he would grow tired of not being able to see your face as you writhe underneath him.

Your parents immediately moved out of state after finding out who The Silent Creeper really is. They were completely stunned. Before moving, your dad quit his job. On the contrary, your mother couldn't move on. After all, she was the one that found your body mutilated in your bedroom. It became so horrifying for her that her doctor ordered her off to a licensed therapist.

Things were bad. Really bad. Seokjin appeared at your funeral. After it was over, you followed him home. He was so full of rage that he completely tore down his entire room. Ripping off the wallpaper that once decorated his walls, cracking his vinyls in half that he had tucked away under his bed, until he came to a specific one. It was for “Careless Whisper” by George Michael.

He pops the vinyl into the record player, and sets himself on his bed as the songs begins.

“Should've known better than to cheat a friend And waste the chance that I'd been given So I'm never gonna dance again The way I danced with you”

Tears stream down his cheeks, and he covers his face. His sobs can be heard throughout the room. You observe as his back rises up and down from his heavy crying. You wish that you could kiss him and slap him at the same time. You wish he never cheated on you, and you wish you never died. Maybe it would hurt less not knowing he did such a thing.

After sex with Taehyung, you decide to visit your home again, wanting to bathe in the memories there. But something has caught your attention. Just as you floated outside, four police cars were parked in the street in front of Taehyung’s home. They were all armed with their guns, aiming at the front door.

One officer had a megaphone, calling Taehyung out of his home.

“On the count of three, we ask that you please come out with your hands up in the air! Should you try to harm anyone, we will have no other choice but to open fire.”

You watch as Taehyung cracks the door open slowly and exits with his hands in the air. Then, he stops, quickly reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out his bowie knife. You’re shocked at the action, but he had been at the end of his ropes with everything. And just like that, the officers open fire.

Piercing his body with bullets, and one going straight though his forehead. His body grows limp, falling into his knees and the weapon drops to the ground. Taehyung falls face forward onto his lawn.

The environment shifts again, and you’re blinded by the color white. Holding your hands up to cover your eyes, trying to escape the brightness that causes your eyes to shut closed. Then the sudden sound of a deep voice captures your attention.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

Looking down, you carefully open your eyes and notice that you’re able to see yourself, your hands, skin, feet, toes, everything. Standing above you is the Almighty, a bright source of light that is still difficult for your eyes to adjust to.

I must have been sent to my judgment.

You hear numerous cries below you, noticing the Underworld below the clouds under your feet. Lightning flashes as several fallen angels snatch souls away, sweeping them into oblivion. You’re instantly distracted by another deep, baritone voice ahead of you. Not like the previous voice you’d heard. It was a voice you found to be familiar.

“Are you calling me a sinner?”

You can barely make out the figure, but realize that the being is suddenly caught by one of the Fallen that sprung into the air down below, flying away. You hear a faint call of your name in the distance. You look down below you and spy a familiar face. It was Taehyung.

“Y/N!” His hand reaching out toward you. A tear falls from your face watching him being pulled away from you.

The first voice you heard speaks again, directing His question to you this time.

“Do you wish to repent your sins before me?”

You turn your gaze toward the Almighty towering above you. Your eyes closed shut yet again from the light. You shake your head and slip with a slight confidence in your tone:

“No.”

a/n: aaaand that’s all everyone! can you guess what happened to Y/N after not repenting her sins? let me know in the comments! I’ve had this idea in mind for soooo long now & wanted to release it on Halloween but I’m a thousand days late pls forgive me. also pls forgive me if this is horribly edited ok it’s like 1 AM, oh & I’m wondering if I should write a sequel to this (promise it will be much more smutty smut & focus more on Y/N’s perspective) let me know in the comments if you’d like to read more! anyways, I hope you all had a fun and safe Halloween!

much love, 💜

#bts v #bts taehyung #v smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung #bts jin #jin smut #bts oneshot #bts blog #magicshopnet #kpopwritersclub #bangtanlalaland #can't believe i actually wrote this #did i really just add a stigma reference in there #lmao #i need help

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malecftw · 5 years

Text

Distractions

A/n: so this was an idea I’d been playing with for a while. It’d been sitting in my drafts for like a month and rn I was just feeling best friends to lovers, a slow cute fic sooooo that’s what came out lol tadaaa. I’ve never really written for David or the Vlog Squad before but let me know if you liked this, maybe I’ll write more in the future. Hope you like it :)

Word count: 1814

Warnings: Idk if Jeff being rejected counts as a warning but here we are, I mentioned the word vagina and idk why but in the context it seemed weird but also okay so yh lmfao y am i acting like im 12

Masterlist.

The LA air was soft and warm, making a strand of hair fall out of your loose bun and tickle your cheek. LA seemed quiet at this time of day, the sun was beginning to set, golden hour was upon you. Lana Del Rey was playing on the background, her deep, soft voice flowing out into the crisp summer air through the open windows. The smell of food made it’s way into your nose, your stomach beginning to rumble at the thought of dinner. Heath, Scott, and Jeff were having a beer at the barbecue whilst Jason was grilling the various types of meat. Kristen, Mariah, Carly, Erin, and Corinna were setting out white plastic chairs in a circle on the grass. Rosé was being spilled, laughs were had and a carefree feeling overtook you.

You still couldn’t believe this was your life. You were living in one of the most famous, loved places on earth surrounded by good friends who were always looking out for you. Your daydream was cut short when you got nudged in the side. Your head turned around to see Zane standing next to you, leaning on the glass just like you were. “What’s up?” “Not much.” He nodded and directed his eyes to the skyline of LA. “So when are you going to tell him?” He asked, not taking his eyes off of the beautiful view before you. “Probably never.” Your nails clicked slightly against your plastic cup, preferring a soft drink before having a glass of wine with dinner. “Why are you so hesitant. You’re perfect for each other.” You shrugged, being uncharacteristically comfortable with the topic around Zane. “I don’t know. I’ve been flirting with Jeff. I’m just going to look like a slut if I fess up now.” He clicked his tongue at your answer. “Please y/n. You were never in a committed relationship with Jeff. Hell, you never even kissed. He’ll get over it. And we know you, none of us would ever put your name and the word slut in the same sentence.”

A sigh escaped your mouth yet you didn’t have a chance to reply when Heath called out to Zane. He quickly squeezed your arm in comfort before heading over to the boys near the barbecue. You pushed yourself off of the glass and made your way inside. Enough with the overthinking, it was time to make yourself useful. “Nat, can I help?” Natalie looked up at you, pausing mixing the dressing and the salad for a second. “Sure y/n. Could you bring this over to the yard, just put it on the table.” She said with a smile and pushed the salad bowl into your hands. You just nodded and did what she asked. The notification sound of your phone distracted you as you set the bowl on the table and while you quickly replied you felt an arm being swung over your shoulder. “What’s up y/n? Why so quiet?” Jeff said, a silly smile on his face as his eyes screened over your expression. “Not now Jeff.” You shrugged off his arm and started walking away when he grabbed your arm, concerned for your obvious distress. “Hey what’s wrong?”

“Is everything okay here guys?” David walked up, noticing your tense figure and Jeff’s already apologetic one. He didn’t even know what was wrong but was already stressed thinking he was the cause. You looked back and forth between the two guys. Life was playing another trick on you and frankly, you were sick of it. Why couldn’t you just go for the obvious choice? You had a beautiful man right in front of you willing to take things to the next level but no. Instead, you had to fall for the one dude that wouldn’t notice an eager vagina if it slapped him across the face.

As you were having this inner dialogue with yourself the two guys still looked at you, confused by your off behavior. “Nothing is okay David, just leave me alone.” You headed for the living room and David took your words like a man. “What the fuck did I do?” He shouted as he ran after you. “Nothing. That’s the problem.”

“Wait what? Y/n what the fuck?” Of course, he didn’t get it. You hadn’t made a move since you were too busy distracting yourself with Jeff. “I just... Just... Just drop it okay. It’s about me, myself and I don’t worry about it.” “Sure doesn’t sound like it.” You rolled your eyes but were secretly grateful for everyone staying outside to give you some privacy. You even notice Nat sneak out of the kitchen, feeling the uncomfortable switch in the room when you walked in.

“Y/n. Just talk to me. Remember that time when you accidentally spilled glue in my hair and we had to shave my head? Didn’t snitch on you then. I looked like a bald man child. I still didn’t snitch. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a look.” David said in a cute attempt to make you feel better. “Of course you didn’t snitch. It was your own fault. Who the hell decided to smack my hands with their head while I was holding an opened bottle of kids glue.” “I’m sorry I forgot to turn on my spidey sense, else I would’ve known you were standing right behind me before I stood up.” “It’s not my fault you were shorter than me.” David placed his hands over his heart, jokingly looking offended. “Ouch.” He teasingly took a couple of steps closer to you causing him to tower over you. “Not anymore though. Now you’re tiny.” You look up at him, arms crossed, confused and annoyed by your feelings for the big man child in front of you. “Now, tiny, are you actually gonna tell me what’s up or am I going to have to keep you hostage until you do?

A pressed sigh leaves your lips. Now or never. His expression turns more serious when he sees your big eyes gloss over. “Hey whatever it is, we can work it out. You and me.” “I’m not so sure about that.” “Well I am.” “I just don’t want to mess things up between us. You’re my best friend.” David immediately knew where this was going and a wide smile formed on his lips. “And?” He said teasingly, eager for the moment in which you’d fess up the same thing he’d been feeling for a while now. “Ugh David you’re a pain.” You say as you softly poke his stomach with your index fingers. “But am I going to be your pain?” His voice has turned hoarse, excited yet on edge. He never dreamed of going there with you. He never had those feelings for you. Until one day, he started seeing you in a different light. He couldn’t pinpoint one moment, it just slowly happened. At first he’d thought it was a silly random idea his mind for some reason made up, but he couldn’t help but think about it from time to time. Then he started getting used to the idea of you two together. It grew on him. Suddenly it didn’t seem weird, it didn’t seem awkward. It just seemed right. But then you’d started flirting with Jeff and David knew he had no chance.

Until now.

You swallowed loudly, your hands pausing, staying put on his sides. “If you want to be.” He nodded slightly, it was the only answer he needed before leaning in. He paused, needing your permission. He needed to know this was it. That this was something you both chose. You slightly pressed your fingers into the clothed skin of his sides, allowing him to connect your lips. It’s wasn’t earth-shattering, it wasn’t filled with sparks and fireworks. It was sweet, soft and gentle. It was what you both wanted. Needed. It wasn’t filled with sexual desire or incredible passion. It was the confirmation you’d both been waiting for. You’d found your person. Ironically enough, he’d been there all along. Love was a big word, you’d known you loved David for as long as you could remember. But back then, you loved him as your best friend.

You both pulled away smiling like idiots. You could see the love and happiness on his face, but he also looked pensive. “So what about Jeff?” You nodded. Of course, it looked really bad. “I like Jeff. I thought I could learn to love him. I needed to learn to love him. I was still waiting for the click in my brain, but it never happened which is why I never took it to the next level. It wouldn’t have been fair to him. He deserves better than a girl whose heart isn’t really in it.”

David’s eyes moved from you to something behind you so you turned around. Of course, like in any other predictable movie or show, Jeff was stood right there, leaning against the window frame. Your mouth fell open, You wouldn’t blame him if he was angry even if he didn’t seem that way right now. “Don’t worry about it y/n. It’s okay.” His thick New York accent filled the room. In a few big steps, he was stood right in front of you, looking to David quickly before grinning. His arms wrapped around your neck and kept you in a playful headlock, messing up your hair as he laughed. “You respected me enough to not go there with me. I appreciate that. At least now I still get to tease you and prank you. David’s lost those privileges.” Relief washed over you. This was the most drama-free ending to this situation you never thought you’d get.

David put his hands in the air, looking happy and relieved as well that things went as smooth as they did cause let’s face it,... They rarely do. “Hey, as long as I get to film it that’s cool.” He said laughing and you smacked his chest. Jeff let go of you and shot you and David a smile before joining the others in the backyard. David sighed as he took you in his arms, looking down at you before bringing both of your attention to your intertwined fingers. “You ready baby?” He asked, voice high and excited to show off what had been his for the longest time but never really realized until now. You nodded and slowly made your way into the backyard. Jeff probably already told everyone since not a single soul seemed to question what had happened. “Yes, baby girl you finally did it!” Zane shouted, holding up his beer and everyone cheered.

The smiles on each one of their faces only made it more clear to you.

This had never been a matter of if.

This had been a matter of when.

#jeff wittek imagine #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik blurb #vlog squad imagines #vlog squad #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek

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ah0pefultransmission · 7 years

Note

2, 4, 8, 9, 11, 13, 14, 15, 20, 21, 23, 24, 30, 34, 38, 42, 43, 44, 46 FOR MINSOO

THIS GOT LONG oops

2. Theirmother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence -literal or imagined - did the mother have?

Hahaha. Well, as you know, Minsoo’s mother left him when hewas about 4. I think maybe not that long before his fifth birthday. He was anunplanned baby, probably the result of a one night stand or a failedrelationship. It was really hard for his mom to bring him up, because she wasalone and she felt really trapped. Things with his mom and grandma were reallyfrosty at first too, because Grandma didn’t approve of the dad or thought thatshe should have been smarter than she was about having unprotected sex orwhatever. They’ve patched things up though by the time Minsoo is about a yearor so old, and he sees a lot of Grandma and Grandpa, who was still alive. A fewweeks before Minsoo turned five, he got dropped off at Grandma’s for the night,which happened a lot because his mom had to work nights on whatever her jobwas. She didn’t actually go to work though and left town and no one knew whereshe went for a really long time. I think only his uncle knows now, becauseGrandma won’t talk to her or anyone about her. It was Minsoo’s impendingbirthday that was the catalyst for her leaving; she could suddenly only thinkabout her life in terms of how many years she was going to be shackled to thiskid she didn’t want and she couldn’t deal with it anymore and just decided toleave and start over.

Anyway the actual question is about how Minsoo feels abouther so. I think he has a lot of really mixed up feelings about her? Mostly he’sangry at her. Angry at being abandoned and for not being wanted and angry ather for never trying to explain herself or apologise. She just left and didn’ttell anyone why. He never got closure for all the questions he has for her. Butat the same time he still has a few nice memories of being a kid. Of the wayshe would use these cutters on his sandwiches because he hated crusts and onlywanted to eat circles. Or how she really liked this one band he can’t rememberthe name of and would dance around the kitchen with him standing on her feetwhilst she sang along. He remembers things like what it felt like to hold herhand and the lilt of her voice when she told him bed time stories and the smileshe would give him when she left for work and how she always called him kiddo.All of the good things feel bad and poisoned though because he can’t figure outwhat was real, if any of it meant anything, if these nice happy memories arejust a young kid’s optimistic outlook on the world. I don’t think you could sayhe loves or hates her? It’s all a bit too mixed up for it to be one thing, butit definitely leans more towards the negative.

His mom’s influence is pretty big. Her leaving is the reasonhe’s very distrustful of people. He doesn’t like opening up to other people orletting them into his life in any sort of meaningful way for a long timebecause he thinks they’re just going to fuck him over. He doesn’t like sharinghow he feels because he doesn’t want to potentially give people the ability tohurt him. All his messed up feelings about his mom are the reason he has such arough time as a teen, because he doesn’t know how to deal with how he feels soinstead he just starts getting into fights and drinking as a coping mechanism.He’s also super awkward around other people’s parents because he doesn’t reallyknow how to deal with them.4. What type of discipline wasyour character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

Grandma was pretty strict about certain things. Like washingyour hands before dinner and eating all your vegetables. If Minsoo went out toplay, he had to be in at a certain time for dinner and he’d get in trouble ifhe was late by more than a few minutes. She was never overly strict though,there weren’t a million rules or chores or anything. She just expected to berespected and for Minsoo to do his part in their house. She did have a woodenspoon she used to rap him on the knuckles with when he was being cheeky ordidn’t do his chore though. Never hard but it was enough that Minsoo stillhisses at her now when she picks up any kind of wooden utensil. No back talk,respect her home and the things in it, don’t interrupt her when she’s watchingher dramas. Teen Minsoo pretty much rebels against all these things on purpose,because Grandma is his mother figure and he needed someone to take it out on.8. How does your character feelabout religion?

HONESTLY I DUNNO, is religion different in this universe? Idon’t think he’d be part of any sort of religion though and definitely doesn’tbelieve in a God that oversees everything, and if he is real then he’s afucking dickhead. Is there a religious undertone to witch stuff? He probablyfollows that a bit if there is, because of Grandma more than anything, but it’snot something actively he’s into.9. What about politicalbeliefs?

Rich people fucking suck. He hates them. He’d be a Democratsince they’re in America but he thinks they’re dumb assholes most of the timetoo. He has a lot to say about the state of immigration and social welfare andthe way the government treats elderly people. A lot of it involves swearing.11. How do they see themselves:as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?

Average Ithink? I don’t think he thinks he’s particularly smart. He’s average at ‘cleverthings’ and knows what he needs to know to get by in life. He probably thinkshe’s at least pretty good at science stuff but only because he learned how tomake his own vape juice on the internet.13. Did they like school?Teachers? Schoolmates?

School wasfine for Minsoo. He liked it more when he was kid, though he did have a fewbumps. Had quite a few friends as a kid though he did also have a few fightswith kids that were rude about his family situation Started to dislike it whenhe was a teenager but mostly because he was a very angry teen and he feltreally judged and stifled by the whole environment. He skipped school a lot asa teen and when he did go, he argued a lot with teachers just because he could,it was someone easy to shout at. I think he probably did a similar thing with alot of his schoolmates, hated everyone but had a few friends. The other angrymisfit teens that smoked behind the gym and liked emo music, idk.14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected?

This is athing I’m stealing from Yoongi but I think he really liked basketball as a kid.Was pretty good at it too but not amazing. He used to go out to play with thekids in the neighbourhood and his friends from school and went to like fucking.Basketball practice after school. In high school he was hardly at school andyou would definitely never catch him staying longer than he needed to be.15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED?

I think, bysome miracle, he managed to graduate from high school. Probably didn’t get verygood grades but he passed. Didn’t bother going to college or anything afterbecause he wasn’t interested and was still pretty angry and mad until he wasabout 21. Grandma probably has a lot to do with this, forcing him to go intoschool for his exams and stuff.

20. What were the mostdeeply impressive political or social, national or international, events thatthey experienced?

Uhhhh I guessthis would be me asking you another question before I could answer this. Itdepends what stuff happened in our world that happened in this universe? Idkhow to answer this one really, I’ll get back to you.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom dothey hate?

He hasterrible manners. He swears too much and flips people off and put his feet onfurniture when he’s still wearing shoes. He’s as polite as he needs to be atwork but that’s about it. Does this mean hero as in like, superhero or reallife hero? Because honestly, real life hero is Grandma. Minsoo would never eversay this to her out loud but she is. Grandma is strong and caring andresourceful, she cares deeply about her family and her heritage. Grandma doesn’tgive a fuck what you think about her or who she is or where she came from andMinsoo really admires that. If we are talking superheroes or the like, I dunnoif Minsoo ever really related to any big superheroes. Probably liked PowerRangers when he was a kid though. WHOMST DOES HE HATE, HMMM. He hates richpeople that think they’re better than poor people. He hates people that don’tfucking tip, Jesus Christ. He hates their building manager because he’s a cheapfucking bastard that never fixes anything when he needs fixing. He hates allthe assholes in social benefits and the government who keep trying to take awayGrandma’s healthcare, he will fight you.

23. What do they wantfrom a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?

Minsoo isbad at like, proper dating, we talked about this before. It’s less that he doesn’twant to date and more that he’s fucking emotionally constipated and can’t tellpeople how he feels. So I guess for a while he doesn’t really want a partnerromantically, just for sex. He looks for someone that’s hot, willing and not atotal jackass to have one night stands with but he doesn’t always succeed onthe last one. Romantically, I guess he wants someone that is willing tounderstand that he can’t always be open about everything? Someone that doesn’t needto know every single thing about him to want to be with him or spend time withhim. Someone that’s fun to spend time with and able to have properconversations. Someone who is cute and handsome. Someone that has their ownlife and is happy to spend time on their own sometimes. Someone thatunderstands that they can’t always come first, because Grandma is the topperson in Minsoo’s life. Someone that isn’t going to leave when things gettough.

He reallylikes sex! It’s fun! It’s fun and it feels nice and it’s something that feelsnatural and easy to him. He’s a very sex positive boy; have as much sex as youwant, with as many people as you want, as long as you’re being safe and nothurting people. Though I think for a while it was more of a “I don’t give afuck” attitude than an actual sex positive one because he was a deeply angryand dumb boy, but he’s much more actively sex positive now. Fuck you for beingrude to sex workers or for slut shaming, he’s punched dudes in bars for callinggirls sluts because of how they’re dressed when they get turned down before.Always makes sure everyone involved is having a good time and that theirboundaries are being respected when he has sex. It’s important to him. For awhile I think sex was another one of Minsoo’s coping mechanisms, finding peopleto have sex with, no strings attached, was a good and fun distraction. It’salways been something he genuinely enjoyed though.24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role dothey like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

He goes out to clubs and bars with his friends a lot.Usually it’s just casual gatherings and drinks, or they go out somewhere fordinner and have a few drinks. He goes to gigs too, on his own or with a few ofhis buds. Minsoo acts like he hates everything and that having fun is forlosers, but he’s actually a party boy. Always the one encouraging everyone tokeep going and have fun, being noisy and singing and making jokes. He likes tothink of himself as the experienced, cool dude with a high tolerance but occasionallyhe is, in fact, the sloppy drunk friend that you need to take home. He stillhas something of a tenuous relationship with alcohol and can get carried away.30. Are they holding on tosomething in the past? Can he or she forgive?

Oooh for sure. He’s still angry with his mom and I don’tthink he’ll ever forgive her. Mostly because I don’t think they’ll ever seeeach other again and talk about what happened, so he’ll never really have thechance to? I think eventually he might let it go a bit, he’s doing a lot betterat not letting it rule his life right now for example. It’s a thing he’s gottenbetter at making peace with but he’s not totally there yet. One day I think he’llbe able to move past it, for himself, but I don’t think he’ll ever forgive hismom.34. Does your character feelself-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?

He’s a very angry dude, unfortunately. Angry at beingabandoned a lot over his life and not ever getting the chance to understandwhy. I think he thinks he’d like to see his mom one day and give her a fulldressing down, really lay into her and scream and shout and make her understandwhat she did to him, but I don’t think he actually really wants that. It wouldn’tdo anything useful for him, he wouldn’t get anything out of it in the end. Inspirit I guess he’s revengeful, he wants to make her hurt as much as she madehim hurt, but I don’t think he has any idea how he would do that and he doesn’twant to try in case she just doesn’t care. I guess he’s also a bitself-righteous, because he feels like he didn’t deserve to be abandoned, by heror by grandpa when he died or by his one serious ex, and it feeds into hisanger.

38. Are they basically negativewhen facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

Depends what it is! He’s fine with meeting new people but he’snever exactly friendly. Minsoo holds himself at a distance with most people. Heputs up a front and can come across as kinda hostile or aggressive. He’s finewith trying new things mostly though. Like, wanna try some new kink during sex?He’s game. He’ll drink anything and try most low-key drugs at least once. Like.One time he sucked a dude’s dick in a carpark when he got mistaken for a sexworker and he went along with it because he wanted to know what it was like.Minsoo is pretty chill about doing most things. Maybe even a little recklesswith it I guess? He does a lot of things he probably shouldn’t do because he’svery like, yeah, fuck it I’ll give it a go. He used to be a lot worse about itwhen he was a teen but its less of a thing of his angry rowdy boy phase andmore of an actual personality trait, Minsoo is a bit over confident in his viewof himself and how much he thinks he can handle and sometimes it gets him intotrouble.

42. What does your characterwant most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willingto do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

YOU KNOW, Idon’t know what Minsoo wants. I don’t think he does either really. He’s a bitaimless. Doesn’t really have a plan or a goal for his life. He’s content goingthrough the motions of life, having fun when he can and trying to betterhimself in little ways. I guess what he wants most is for Grandma to be happyand healthy? He wants her to be able to live comfortably because she deservesit. Before he was willing to sacrifice that, to be horrible to her and make herlife incredibly hard because it gave him the tiniest shred of relief from hisanger and pain but that’s something he really hates that he did now. He won’tdo that ever again, he’d never sacrifice Grandma’s happiness and her feelingsfor himself.

43. Does your characterhave any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?

I guess hismom is sort of a secret? Or at least how much it still hurts him and how muchit messed him up. He’s also really worried about what will happen to him onceGrandma is gone, because she’s not going to be here forever and he worries thathe’s going to fall off the path again without her to help keep him on thestraight and narrow. Generally I guess most of how he feels is a secret? He doesn’ttalk about how he feels to anyone, except very occasionally Grandma and nowKobe a bit.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursuethem?

LIKE I SAID,he doesn’t really have a goal beyond making sure Grandma is happy and safe. Hemostly does that by forcing himself to go to work to pay their bills and keepfood on their table, by buying her weed for her arthritis, by threatening anyof her customers that try to wiggle out of paying. It’s really important to himthat she’s okay and he does as much as he can, even if it always feels like it’snot enough.

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How dothey feel about their physical body?

He is a smolboy. Idk how tall yoongles actually is but he’s small, especially in comparisonto Joon/Kobe. He’s pretty skinny but not in a unhealthy way. He has really bonyelbows. Grandma is always complaining he’s too skinny and needs to put one moreweight, eat something more Minnie-ah. His posture is slumpy when he’s relaxed,like when he’s at home with Grandma or Kobe, but he holds himself a bit tighterand higher when he’s out in public, especially if he’s at a bar or something.Tries to make himself seem bigger and more intimidating that people wouldassume at first glance.

#ch: mountain at my gates #definitelybees

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ao3-hipster-fangirl-trash · 7 years

Text

"No."

Ok so i have this idea or Stafou where lefou wants to prove he deserves to be part of the castle staff (even though everyone but him knows he does) so he just starts taking people’s work for them and overworking himself and Stanley can’t sleep one night and so he passes LeFou’s room and its like 3 in the morning and a light is on and so he goes to investigate and LeFou is working on idk something and stanley’s like its 3 in the morning you should be asleep he says i just need to finish some stuff so they don’t see me as the fool who blindly followed Gaston. His words are slurred and he’s swaying and exhausted out of his mind. Stanley’s like you need sleep and LeFou starts mumbling about how he has to prove he’s good enough and he’s not just Gaston’s idiot sidekick. Stanley’s reassuring him that no one thinks that and forces Lefou to sleep and explain the situation to all the people LeFou’s helping and wraps up his boyfriend and protects him.

Ok so quick information this is where Gaston didn’t fall when he shot the beast, instead he was restrained and eventually taken to court and hung for attempted murder, yup, my imagination yay!

Ngl i was listening to evermore through this whole thing and crying :’)

Warnings: self hate, hanging, descriptions of death

Aight, it’s here and queer, let’s get going shall me children

LeFou had never felt so disgusted with himself. The pure loathing of his own being was something that was foreign to him, who had always justified himself in one way or another.

The day of the hanging, he threw up.

It wasn’t that he had any pity for Gaston, he knew exactly what he did and how he had done it, the wrong which he had caused for so many people and how it had hurt them, but it was that it wasn’t quick.

LeFou didn’t know that if the neck wouldnt break, it he wasn’t dropped far enough, then it would take 20 minutes for the painfully elongated death to finally come to a halt. 20 minutes of jerking, choking and begging. 20 minutes of watching someone whom he had previously trusted watch him as the life faded from him. He would forever remember the look of fear that passed over Gaston’s face just as the life finally left his eyes.

The sickening thud as they him cut down didn’t help either, or that the villagers cheered.

When they returned to the castle, all he could do was put on a small smile, trying to blend in with the rest. Why wouldn’t he? The man who had manipulated him for years was finally gone from his life, yet he couldn’t seem to be happy.

The problem about being close with someone, is you only seem to stay because you have things which you believe to be similar with them, so of course, LeFou, being him, had somewhat seen himself in Gaston, and if they could cut him off, someone who had been involved with the village (albeit not positively) then what was stopping them from doing it to him?

Of course the first thing LeFou thought of was to work to show that he could help, that was why Gaston kept him around, he was a good worker, always had and always will be. If needs be, he would compromise his own health to get a job done, in some cases far too much, but a couple of day in bed would usually get him enough strength for the next job, and thus repeated the dangerous cycle over and over again. Not once had he broken it and he had the feeling that he wouldn’t ever again. This was evident when Mrs Potts came down his room with tea, seeming distracted.

“Is everything alright Mrs Potts?” She simply nodded and walked away hurriedly trying to get somewhere in a rush.

When he later saw her, she was in the library quickly stacking books. LeFou would sometimes come and try to read with Belle, he could now do it on his own so the library was a safe space for him, yet the din of books crashing to the floor and a horrified wail was not something that he was used to when going there.

Rushing in, he found Mrs Potts grappling for hundreds of leather bound pages that had scattered from one end of the room to the other, whilst trying to hold up a small bookcase which seemed to be trying to crush her.

After finally pulling the bookshelf back to its original position LeFou made the bold move of asking Mrs Potts what on earth was wrong.

“I can’t seem to do it!” she wailed, grabbing her tea towel which always hung on her apron and whipping it out, to rub at one of the tables for some reason.

“What can’t you do Mrs Potts?” Lefou inquired, taking a tentative step towards her.

“Greek!” she screamed, turning once more and almost catching LeFou with her towel.

“Pardon?”

“Greek! I don’t know greek and half of these cursed things are. Some ambassador lad from Greece is coming to meet the prince and of course i have to write between him and the Master, so of course i don’t know greek or what to do,” at this point, she had collapsed onto the floor with her head in her hands and tears falling down her face.

“I know greek.”

Mrs Potts looked up to LeFou with a questioning look. “What?”

“I know greek.” he replied.

It wasn’t a lie, LeFou really did know greek. He had a friend in the army who only knew the language and of course in his free time got lessons from others, wanting to understand more about the questionable gentleman. Naturally he had picked it up quite quickly, much like reading, and had even taken a couple of lessons with Belle every now and then.

Mrs Potts still looked confused.

“I could do the corresponding,” he sighed, knowing what was about to happen, “i could write what the master wants me to write and i could do it in greek.”

Mrs Potts gave a squeal of joy, and tackled LeFou in a hug, squeezing him close to her.

“Oh you are a darling aren’t you!”

From then on the jobs just grew.

Researching recipes in the library, helping out with the washing and cleaning the stables, even helping Lumiere with lighting the candles before any ball.

Between all of these jobs, LeFou never really had any time to eat, or sleep, or do anything for that matter. It had been weeks since he had met up with stanley, who was now serving as an apprentice for Madame Garderobe, and days since he had even had a moment to spare for himself, yet all to help the staff and get into their favor. Anytime he felt himself slacking, he remembered the rope around Gaston’s neck, the look of fear, then the emptiness, and that was motivation enough, on any day.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when Stanley stopped by, but it had definitely been past dinner, and even past midnight when he heard a familiar knock on the door, and a creak which he had grown used to.

He usually had warning when Stanley came to visit, maybe an ‘on va ce voir ce soire’ when they passed in the corridor, yet when the knock came, he found himself scrambling to remove the scraps of paper from his desk, sweeping them to one side and messily arranging them to be in some sort of an order which could be deemed presentable.

By the time the door had opened, LeFou had just realised that the mess in his room could not be fixed with a quick spruce up.

The food which Mrs Potts had brought to him that morning was sitting, cold and forgotten in one corner, ink had spilled all over the floor at some point and so many different pages were scattered around, in fact LeFou wasn’t completely sure how he had functioned in this mess until now.

Stanley stood at the door smiling to himself, until he turned and saw LeFou standing in the bombshell which had gone off around him.

“Mon dieux, mon amour what happened?” he looked appalled, and ran up to lefou, sweeping his hair from his face and bringing him closer.

“Are you ok?” he brought LeFou away to inspect him.

LeFou simply shrugged, unsure of how to answer him.

“I think so… why?” he looked up at stanley to see pure worry in his eyes, and felt himself melt slightly at the beautiful brown orbs which had captured his.

“Mon amour it looks like you’ve been awake for days,” stanley replied, still searching LeFou’s face for any sort of injury.

LeFou sighed, dropping his shoulders and shaking his head.

“I have.”

Stanley looked up.

“What.”

LeFou closed his eyes as he felt the tears welling up behind his lids.

“I’ve been awake for days. I can’t sleep.”

He waited for it, the remark, the one that Gaston usually made about how he should stay up more to get work done, or how if he ate as much as he slept, everything would be balanced, or some sort of insult which made him feel worse and worse every time.

Instead he heard a soft sigh which sounded suspiciously like he was asking something.

“Why?”

LeFou felt one of the tears fall, then another, and another and one more, until they had begun a steady steam. He began sobbing and felt his knees give way, as he clung to Stanley who had knelt with him, holding tightly to his jacket and buried his face in the collar.

He had reached his limit.

All those nights of sleeplessness, the lack of food, even just the lack of human contact was enough to drive several men mad, yet it only seemed to hurt LeFou, never stop him, not once.

In all that time, Stanley stayed, rubbing his back as he cried into his shirt, whispering encouraging words to him and giving him small kisses to his cheeks, which only prompted him to cry more. In all his time he had never known such kindness until it was exposed to him in that moment.

He sniffled and sobbed, wailed and whined until he was too dehydrated to let any more water fall from his eyes, and yet still clung to stanley as if he were a lifeline, keeping him from joining Gaston in whatever afterlife may await him.

When LeFou finally calmed down, he sat back, and let his head drop slightly, wiping the snot from his nose.

Stanley simply sat, opposite him with a look of utmost sympathy framing his face, and what could have been seen as fear to what LeFou could possibly do to himself.

“Why would you do this to yourself?” He whispered tentatively, reaching out to hold onto LeFou’s hand gently.

LeFou sniffed.

“If they did it to him, why not do it to me?”

A look of confusion passed over Stanley’s face, before understanding settled in.

“Gaston.”

LeFou nodded.

Finally, Stanley knew why. He knew why LeFou was overworking himself to the bone, why he had let himself get so involved in the work which he had taken up, and why he didn’t care if he compromised his health and why he stayed up so late to finish it, because he thought that he was expected to. He thought that if he didn’t, people would see him as worthless. Because if he didn’t, he thought they would see that he thought he was similar to Gaston, and, god forbid, they believed he was like Gaston and did to him what they did to the villain.

Stanley reached out and grabbed LeFous other hand, and brought them to his lips. He placed a small kiss on each then pulled LeFou physically closer, and lay his chin upon his forehead.

“Etienne?”

LeFou nodded.

“If you were anything like him, would you have been offered a room in the châteaux?”

LeFou froze, contemplating the question asked.

“And would Mrs Potts have brought you breakfast every morning?”

LeFou shook his head.

“And would I be in this room letting you snot all over my jacket?”

At this, LeFou gave a giggle and shook his head again.

Looking up to Stanley, LeFou gently whispered out one word.

“No.”

Stanley smiled.

“Now remember that word,” LeFou nodded, “and reply to my next question with it.”

LeFou, confused, complied.

“Now, mon amour, are you anything like Gaston.”

LeFou let out an enormous grin.

“No.”

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