#i made this before i hatched and had several of my friends tell me this was very trans coded. i ignored them for another year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ravetillyoucry · 8 months ago

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PUPARIA

Chapter 1 - Parfum D’etoiles

"Every time I get stuck in my sleep, I always have this dream, it's always the same, always." The, obviously artificially, blonde man spoke, pausing to finish his sip of coffee whilst signalling there was more to the story, and not to carry on the conversation without letting him finish.

"It's dark, wet, and raining, and I can't walk. You know how in your dreams you can never run with speed and you're so sluggish, it's like that, but I'm like, army crawling on the ground, like.. my legs are paralysed or something."

His head fell into his hands as he stopped to laugh mid-thought,

"Hah, I don't know, I never know how to explain it. It's so ...visceral. I wake up feeling caked in the mud still. Anyway- at some point I stop trying though, and I just lay there for, I don't know, hours, days, months. All in dream time, of course."

Gesturing to show how long exactly he meant in hand terms, he continued despite the fact his audience was more disturbed rather than understanding how comical it truly was.

"And- and I just feel my body freeze up, everything goes numb and I can't move at all, and I grow like, a shell, something like that, something that's keeping me in place anyway around me."

He stopped for again , his smile dropping when he realised nobody else found it as humorous as he did. Eyes adverting down into his own reflection in the black drink, he grabbed for his hair to fidget the embarrassment away as he realised he got too carried away and failed to read the room.

"Um.. anyway, I always wake up before I like.. hatch. Or something. And I always wake up shrunk after."

"Thats more weird than funny, Hosah." The smallest of the three sitting around the little table in the corner of the busy New York cafe spoke. He, Jeanne, had this specific aura of authority around him that nobody quite understood, but chose not to question.

Hosah chose not to question most things nowadays. Especially his coworkers. He only really had two friends at his job, and they had joined him for lunch today. Jeanne was always considered his closest friend of the two, but he had been seeing an awful lot of the other man, Thierri, recently too.

He could never tell if there was something more to the two than how it seemed on the outside, as the pair were often on jobs together as partners, but there was still an aura of tension between them, like they hated each other or something of the sort.

Deciding not to dwell, everyone awkwardly continued on with the shift in conversation from weird and funny dreams to whatever kind of kafkaesque nightmares Hosah had going on in his head.

After collecting together the coins they each had in their pockets for the bill, the trio made their way back to the main office building where plentiful work was left to be done. Right now all three of them were on a particularly disturbing case.

Shifters going missing for days and being found in increasingly unique circumstances. It was definitely not uncommon for shifters to be murdered, it was normal, almost expected. Hosah found it horrifying. It served as a gruesome reminder of what he could end up as if he didn't watch his back at every waking moment. He wasn't cut out for his job, he knew it deep down, but he was so used to this life, and he couldn't sleep at night knowing the things he knew and doing nothing about them. So he stuck in his unsuitable field, as he was incapable of doing anything else.

It seemed it was a particularly busy Thursday afternoon in the city, as Hosah found himself several people away from his coworkers now. Putting a little speed into his walk, he caught up to both Jeanne and Thierri as they neared the office building, dodging the randoms walking the street in the process.

The office was split into two divisions , division A and division B. The first two or so years working for the agency, Hosah spent in division B. These were the petty things, serving more as a private investigators than law enforcement. It was fun at least, snooping and finding out whether some dude really was cheating on his wife, dealing drugs on the side, or stealing from the cash register.

Division A however, were a shifter crime specialist unit. He'd done a few mediations here and there when in division B, but it wasn't until almost four years ago when he became a permanent member, as he was one of the only shifters in the agency at the time, or at least, he was one of the only known shifters.

Entering the establishment and loading into the elevator onto floor A, the topic had shifted to the new hire. Edmund or something. Hosah didn't really care to learn his name as they rarely stuck around, at least not in the shifters specialist unit. They usually found a preferred place with the B team or elsewhere all together as the mass amounts of cases that had to be covered became overwhelming for the newbie just looking for experience.

Hosah was a known figure across the entirety of both divisions. Whether that be because of his love for showing up clearly not sober, or the fact that, about 75% of the time, he was barely three inches tall, he wasn't sure. He didn't really prefer either of the two to being the case, but it was only logical to assume the latter.

"Oh, yeah Hosah, boss wants to speak to you about that actually. Something about shadowing probably. She didn't say really"

Jeanne mentioning his name awoke him from his day dream.

"What? Seriously?" Hosah wasn't usually trusted to be shadowed by new hires. Plus, he'd been here for almost a month now, he should know the ropes already.

"Mm. Should probably go now if you want to know what she has to say." The elevator chimed and Hosah was left in his lonesome to consider his options. Begrudgingly, he pressed the button to go up another floor, but not before the door was stopped mid-closing by a particularly tall figure he didn't quite recognise.

The new hire.

Hosah retracted back into the metal box he'd be trapped in with the unknown man, unable to shift his expression of confusion as the taller of the two gave an apologetic 'Sorry' under his breath before standing uncomfortably close to the figure in the corner. The seasoned detective stared, partly judging and partly out of curiosity. Sure, he was tall as everyone said, but not as tall as Thierri.

He took into account a number of things about new hire actually. He had a crooked canine tooth that poked out a little when he smiled, and he had two dotted scars under his bottom lip at either side. Those didn't seem to be his only piercings, as his ears also had two or three a-symmetrical decorations. He'd say 'how unprofessional' if it didn't make him a massive hypocrite. Hosah's eyes adverted as the two glanced briefly into each-other's.

Whilst the cornered's eyes stayed transfixed on his shoes, he couldn't help but feel his body tense and his face flush as eyes lingered on him and his every movement. 'Just say something, say what you want to say' was all he could wish for.

"We haven't met before, I don't think. Uh, my name's Edward. Randolph." The taller of the two extended a hand, his coat sleeve too short for his freakishly long limbs. Hosah stared at it for a brief moment before returning the favour and shaking it. Before he could formally introduce himself, Edward interrupted.

"I already know. You're Detective Levi, right?"

The fact he knew who he was proved to be a little unsettling.

"Mmm, just call me Hosah, please. Formality isn't exactly my forte," The handshake was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as it never seemed to end, Edward just kind of wanted to stand there holding his hand it seemed.

He let out a quiet 'Right' in a laugh. It wasn't until Hosah actively withdrew his hand that he let go.

After what seemed like forever, but in reality was only maybe two minutes, the doors chimed open once more. Now they were almost on the top floor of the building, as the next stairwell took them to the roof. Hosah had only occasionally been up here, and he doubted that Edward had been on the master floor at all. He really didn't know why the whole floor was needed when there would only be one office, but this was also where all the archived cases were filed, so he assumed it was mainly to declutter and store things away from the general working areas. He'd never really questioned it, after all.

This floor was particularly different to the three below it, as the wood wall panels weren't covered with the same yellowing wallpaper as the others, and the lights flickered like a ghost was about to appear and disappear again right before their eyes. Definitely a creepy hallway, with the emptiness of the entire floor contrasting the overcrowded division areas, where there was never a moment of silence.

Both detectives stood in the elevator for a while longer than what they had to, until Hosah swallowed down the sickly feeling building in his stomach and took charge towards the very end of the hall, to the office space.

Something wasn't right, this was not going to be a simple shadowing request as Jeanne speculated at all. Hosah wasn't a particularly laid-back worry-free individual, but this situation rubbed him the wrong way entirely.

He put speed into his step as the newbie stalked a few feet behind him. No, it wasn't whatever Boss was going to say that worried him, it was Edward. There was something so fine and specific about him that was off. Of course, Hosah didn't know what exactly that was yet, but the feeling of uneasiness was too distinct to not have any significance.

If there was one thing Hosah trusted, it was his intuition, and he knew that Edward was no normal new hire who'd be gone by the end of the month.

He felt his heart pump through his chest as he was now almost running down the endless hallway of doors and doors of empty rooms, until the two finally reached the end, facing the doorway into unknown territory.

Hosah had only been in Boss' office a handful of times, the room was dimly lit as the curtains were drawn, and the dark, almost maroon red wallpaper didn't help with the already unwelcoming feeling everyone who stepped inside had rush over them upon entering. Both men were beckoned inside upon knocking, the boss spinning her chair to face them like some cheesy movie villain.

"Come, sit, it's important." she called them over toward the two vintage leather chairs facing her desk.

Hosah braced himself for whatever was so important that he was summoned to the usually off limits floor for.

Boss was actually someone he had known in childhood, briefly. That's how Hosah ended up here. Although she was to be referred to as only Boss by everyone in the building, he still slipped up sometimes and called her by the name he knew her as, Jules.

The pair paid utmost attention as she began to speak again;

"Levi, you're one of our longest working employees, and a very valued member of our shifters specialist division," Oh god.

"But, you see, your condition has been.. Less than desirable as of lately, from an employers perspective." Oh, god.

She waited for any kind of response from either of the two, but when met with brief, stunned silence, she continued,

"Which is why I've come to the decision to give you a helping hand, per se, Edward will be assisting you on cases from now on. Since it'd be such a shame to have to let you go over this."

Hosah opened his mouth to speak but he had no words, his mind was racing so fast he couldn't create a coherent sentence. He sat in silence. The smile on Jules' face was nothing but sardonic as she watched him helplessly comply with the newfound situation.

On one hand, he was furious. He'd been humiliated and undermined in front of his junior. Someone he was going to have to be stuck with for the foreseeable future had zero chance of having any respect for him at this rate. But, Hosah also felt guilty.

The moment of embarrassment took him back to the time when he himself had just joined the company, with no experience and no qualifications in the field, he spent almost every waking moment inside this very building as if he was the weird kid looking for a place to sit in the cafeteria. Rejected and outcasted by those that had been here for much longer than him, as if he was invading their space or butting in where he wasn't supposed to.

Hosah almost saw himself in Edward for that brief moment, and held back any protests to the situation as to not relay the same awful feeling of being repudiated. Coughing on his lack of enthusiasm about the whole ordeal, he just nodded, completely avoiding even glancing to see Edward's reaction.

In a literal sense, he was still at his regular height, but boy did he feel small in this moment.

-~-

"So, what did boss have to say?" Jeanne stood up from against his car, opening the door for his coworker before getting into the driver's side himself.

Hosah just sighed, slouching down on the leather seat and hiding his face with his winter scarf, despite it still being the back end of August.

"That I needed help, since I'm shifting so much. Said I'm weighing you down by asking so many favours."

He looked to Jeanne for a response, but he didn't say much. Just a short 'Mm' as he focused on the dark city roads. She was right. Hosah felt bad for asking so much from him, but he and Thierri were the only two people he had to trust in the entirety of New York City. Hell, he was even being driven to the subway station home every night. As they reached a red light, Jeanne spoke up again,

"Well, Edward is sweet. You'll warm to him soon, and if it's seriously all that bad I'll still always be here to lend you a favour or two." his head was now turned so Hosah didn't have to look at the bandaged side of his face.

He was too stubborn to agree, so he just rolled down the passenger window and lit a cigarette.

"He has a key to my apartment. I don't like that. Can you believe her? Just giving out my key to any Tom Dick or Harry? I don't even know the guy yet." He'd reverted to playing with his hair again out of frustration, tapping ash out into the breeze.

"I mean, your apartment is under contract with the company, and it's not particularly out of character for her." If there was one thing Jeanne was going to do, it was try find the most optimistic yet logical explanation for everything Hosah complained about. It was a little annoying at times, but he had come to appreciate his wise insight.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just annoyed, can I be annoyed for a minute?"

"I'm not saying it's not out of line, Hosah. I'm with you, it's weird, but you signed the contract. She does what she wants and doesn't consider her employees, you should know that by now."

He just groaned, exhausted from avoiding Edward for the rest of the day and by all the pent up anger he'd been with holding in the meanwhile.

"There's something not right about Edward, s'all.. Something's wrong with him but I can't put my finger on it." Hosah's hand moved from his hair to his forehead, as if rubbing in exasperation will give him the eureka moment.

Jeanne just laughed at him.

"Ah, really? Honestly when I first spoke to him, he reminded me of you. Same sort of weird, dry humour that doesn't hit with me specifically but others find it charming." He reached out and patted the passenger seat head rest,

"You'll be fine. Trust me."

Hosah did trust Jeanne, he really did, but he couldn't shake the uneasiness still. Sure, he could be overthinking, but no one had ever made him so nervous before. There had to be something sinister hidden beneath the sickly sweet persona. There was no other explanation for the stomach churning feeling that had washed over him as Edward stepped into that elevator and shook his hand. Surely.

The two waved their goodbyes after a short drive to the station, Hosah having to make a mad dash for his ride home as he'd spent too long going down the endless loop of stairwells to avoid being trapped in the elevator again.

He stood on the subway, hand gripping the plastic strap as the movement of the metro pushed him into various different straphangers on the busy ride home, his thoughts lingering on the day and contemplating all the different things he could've said in that office. Still, his mind jumped back to that urge to protect Edward's feelings of rejection. Usually Hosah wouldn't care, but for some reason, his heart pushed him to silence and compliance earlier, something completely out of character for him. If there was one thing Hosah would do, it was protest and fight against anyone or anything he particularly didn't agree with. But for some reason, this was different.

He was almost pulled straight down face first onto the crowded floor as the train halted to a stop. Hosah was too caught up replaying everything in his head to pay attention to his surroundings. Collecting his balance, the detective pushed through the crowds of businessmen and women waiting to get home during the evening rush hour, but just as he was about to head towards the exit of the platform, a familiar voice called him,

"Hosah! Hey, wait up for me!"

Edward.

Although he wanted to pretend he never heard him at all, his body froze in place. Despite it not being intentional, Hosah must have given his coworker a nasty glare as he approached, still stood dead in his tracks.

Slightly intimidated, the assistant still started conversation.

".. So! We get off at the same stop! That's real convenient, seeing as we'll be working together from now on." Somehow Edward still managed to smile through the clear annoyance of his superior, whose neck was craned upwards to look at him.

"Yeah, yeah definitely." Hosah's gaze adverted, now looking back down at the floor like he was earlier.

It hurt to look at him, and not just because of the height difference. He felt his lips purse as the eyes looking down at him, despite his head now being turned away, stayed put with no sign of freeing him. With his heart in his throat, he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Uh, it's sixty two degrees, aren't you hot in a coat and a scarf over your suit?" Edward leant in closer to the smaller of the two's face, which had gotten progressively more red and the interaction continued.

Hosah scrambled to take the scarf off as he too realised how hot it was, deciding to blame the weather and not his embarrassment. His 'Yeah' struggled to be heard through the movement.

Despite the fact he really just wanted to run away until he got to his apartment, Hosah agreed to let his now assistant walk him to his building as to not be a nuisance by standing and chatting on the busy platform or to draw attention to the two by making a scene and fleeing.

The pair weaved their way through the evening crowds of the city, Edward holding onto the sleeve of Hosah's coat to avoid being separated. It wasn't until they'd long left the herds of people that he let go. Conversation was stale as expected. Hosah just wanted to get home in peace in all honesty. He's not tiny right now, so he doesn't need any help.

For whatever unknown reason, Edward still insisted. Nothing was more annoying than being treat as incapable. Afterall, he's a normal person, just like Jeanne, just like the barista that handed him his coffee earlier that day, but probably not like Edward, Edward definitely wasn't normal.

Slamming the door of his apartment behind him, Hosah almost fell to his knees as his legs buckled beneath him. Cradling his head in his hands, hair in his fists, he asked whatever higher beings were listening why he was the way he was and why today had to be such a continuous beating to his ego.

Looking up at the dark apartment, the only illuminations being the street lights poking through the curtains of the balconette and the fairy lights hanging above the TV stand, one thing sat in the corner of the living room haunted him.

An unfinished painting. Hosah groaned, he'd have to come back to it another day, leaving the easel unattended, keeping the mess of old bedsheets along with his long dried oil paint palette on the floor for the foreseeable future.

Too exhausted to properly get ready for bed, he stripped down into his just his boxer shorts and socks before collapsing onto the frameless mattress and subsequently falling asleep for the night, knowing he still had tomorrow ahead of him but deciding to ignore it all together, as he already had enough overthinking to do.

[chapter 2]

#g/t #giant tiny #gianttiny #g/t writing #RRRHRHHDHD IM SCARED #i’ve never posted writing so publicly #Idk writing just feels like 50x more intimate than art #Lmk #Does this suck?#Am I the worst?#AHH!#Puparia_tag #idk i’ll figure it out #oc hosah #oc teddy

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adidastain · 10 months ago

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down the hatch

90s matt stone x fem reader

warnings: oral sex (M receiving), alcohol use, nausea

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 3564

—

“Matt.”

My voice carried softly as I approached my roommate in our dimly lit kitchen. The hour was late and what a night it was for him.

“I know you’re upset. C’mon,” I continued, opening my arms. I was in my pajamas, having stayed up late to watch the Oscars ceremony and see my best friend’s best friend lose the award to Phil Collins for Tarzan. Matt had gone to a party afterward to come down from the acid he’d been on all night and was still in his wine-red dress shirt, the buttons halfway undone.

“I’m not upset,” he said calmly. His gaze remained fixed on the shot of tequila he was pouring for himself. The lack of eye contact was a dead giveaway.

“You are,” I insisted. I didn’t like seeing him upset. In a way, I was afraid of it; sure he always had an attitude, but when Matt was really upset about something, he’d rain ash and sulfur on whoever or whatever it was that upset him. “C’mere.”

I tugged on the sleeve of his silky-soft shirt, pulling him towards me. Matt exhaled heavily, setting the bottle down and turning his broad body to face me, and he let me wrap my arms around his neck. I buried my face into his neck, his skin soft and warm. His curly hair tickled my nose as I moved.

Matt was always kind of weird about hugs. It took him a few seconds before he actually hugged me back, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and holding me close. There was no doubt that he was exhausted.

“I know you both worked really hard,” I whispered. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say; I always sucked when it came to words.

“Mm,” Matt hummed unresponsively.

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes.

“You may not have won the Oscar, but you did win my heart,” I said dramatically. I batted my eyelashes at him, watching as he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Shut up,” he said, letting go of me. He was grinning, shaking his head as he turned away to pour his tequila down the hatch.

As he swallowed, I carefully removed the small glass from his grasp, setting it down on the counter behind me. Matt cringed at the taste of the tequila, shaking his head.

I had to admit, he looked absolutely divine. His shirt was a gorgeous, deep red color that fit him absolutely perfectly. His broad chest and biceps practically bulged out of the silky fabric. The blazer he’d been wearing earlier in the night had been since discarded on the counter, alongside a small duffel bag containing the infamous pink dress he’d sported in the afternoon. Which, I have to say, looked just as amazing on him.

My hands snaked around his waist, hugging him again.

“Seriously, though. You know you can tell me anything,” I said, looking up at him. He didn’t hug me back, simply continuing to put the bottle of tequila back in the refrigerator next to us.

“I know. And I told you,” he sighed, looking down at me with tired, half-lidded eyes. “I’m not upset.”

“Anything you need, Matt,” I ignored him. “I’m always here for you.”

He chuckled slightly, taking a step back as he slid out of my arms. I looked at him with puppy eyes, carefully watching his body and muscles shift and flex each time he moved.

“Anything, huh?” he repeated, crossing his arms. This only made his chest and biceps look bigger and more muscular.

I nodded. “Anything,” I confirmed.

Matt raised his eyebrows and smirked, looking all around the room except at me. “Even…” he said, trailing off to let my mind fill in the blanks. He nodded downward to gesture to his crotch.

“You’re disgusting,” I rolled my eyes. Though, to be completely honest, I didn’t think it was the worst idea he could have had…

Once, many, many moons ago, after several rounds of drinks, I remember getting fingered by Matt in the back of a limo. I don’t remember where we were or why we were in a limo exactly, but we were definitely both completely drunk and undoubtedly sexually frustrated. We never brought it up to each other though. I just assumed it was a dream for a little while, until we received a letter from the limousine service stating that we wouldn’t be allowed to book from them again.

“But sure. Only for you,” I continued.

Matt’s head practically snapped up to attention, looking at me with shock as the color drained from his face. “What?”

“I’ll give you head. If that’s what you want,” I said, shrugging. I turned around so that my ass was facing him and he couldn’t see how flushed my cheeks were becoming.

“I was just joking,” he laughed, swallowing harshly.

“No you weren’t,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I poured myself a glass of water, turning back around to face him again. His jaw was tense, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while the other sat at his side. “You? Joking about getting head? Not a chance.”

I took a sip of water, not-so-accidentally letting it spill onto my chin and neck. Matt’s eyes were fixed on my now soaking wet collarbone. I watched his throat shift beneath his skin as he swallowed harshly.

“You really… You’d do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” I responded. Play dumb.

“Suck me off?”

“Oh. Mhm,” I smiled. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

Matt chuckled, looking down at his hands. I took another sip of water, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist.

“Go sit down,” I told him, topping off the glass with more water. Matt did as I said, hesitant at first. However, it didn’t take long for him to somewhat frantically scramble to get his ass onto the sofa before I could follow him.

I thought about getting to put his hot, throbbing, aching length into my mouth and taking it down my throat. Using my tongue to pay extra attention to little spots along his shaft in order to earn soft sounds of pleasure from deep inside him. My hands roaming every inch of his body, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel like no one else has ever made him feel.

My eyes rolled back in my head slightly as I pictured his hand tangled in my hair, pushing my head down further along his length while his tip bruised the back of my throat.

“Are you coming?” he said. I think he was trying to sound irritated, but was too nervous to pull it off.

With that, I joined him in the living room, anxious to see him sprawled out and ready on our sofa. And he was; he had his arms resting up on the back of the couch, all cocky, with his legs spread and his body slouching. Dickhead.

He was, without a doubt, pitching a sizable tent beneath those snug black pants of his. The reality of what I was about to do to my best friend hit me like a train. Sure, we’d messed around before, like I said. But this was different. We were sober. I was sober, at least.

The entire house was silent, so much so that my ears were practically ringing. It was dark except for the light in the kitchen, which shone from behind, giving his crown of curls a glowing halo. He looked up at me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I positioned myself to lean over him.

A breathy, soft groan left his lips as I carefully placed my knee on his crotch, applying the smallest amount of pressure so as to not hurt him. Not long after, I kissed him, one of my hands digging into the couch cushions behind him to prop myself up. I kept my kiss gentle, almost ghostlike, barely touching his lips at all.

Matt looked to be in shambles as I backed away from him again, sinking down onto my knees in front of the sofa. He stared at me, looking both tense and nervous, while also completely dumbfounded and almost awestruck.

“Hurry up and take your belt off, douchey. I’m tired,” I teased him, running my hands over his clothed thighs.

Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes, raising his hips so he could start undoing his belt, freeing his hips from the snug confines of the leather strap. He set it off to the side and shimmied out of his dress pants, which pooled down to his ankles, rendering him bare-legged in a skimpy pair of boxers.

I didn’t waste much more time before trailing wet kisses up the inside of his thigh, massaging the other with my hand. I pulled his boxers down, slowly, running my fingers along the waistband until they sat at his ankles atop his discarded dress pants. There, standing tall and dripping with impatience, was the real star of the show.

I swallowed. It wasn’t so much the length I was concerned about as far as size went, but the sheer girth and thickness of his cock. My hand wrapped around the base of it and my fingertips were nowhere near touching my thumb.

“You okay?” Matt asked me, his tone low and cold. I could see concern in his face, however.

I nodded, adjusting my position and pulling all of my hair to rest on one shoulder. Matt reached down to tuck one stray strand behind my ear, gently running his thumb along my cheek in the process.

My eyes veered away from his, shame bubbling up inside me. Maybe not shame so much as humiliation. I took a moment to build up the spit in my mouth, feeling shy under his gaze.

“Don’t look at me,” I mumbled with a mouthful of spit. Matt chuckled softly, letting his head rest on the back of the couch. I stared at his neck and throat as he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

I leaned over his cock and let a dribble of spit fall from my lips, before subsequently beginning to place soft kisses all over his tip, the skin smooth and warm. I held the base of his length with one hand, using the other to massage his thigh. Matt’s body shivered slightly as I trailed kisses up and down his shaft.

I looked up at him one last time. His bottom lip was trapped under his teeth, eyebrows furrowed, hands gripping the back of the sofa. I’d barely even started and he was already struggling. Must’ve been a while for him.

From then on, my kisses were wet, sloppy and open-mouthed. Up until I flattened my tongue and the tip of his cock slid into my mouth.

Matt sharply gasped through his nose, his body shuddering from the shock. He moaned softly with his mouth closed and I felt his hand caress the back of my head, fingers running through my hair as he grabbed a fistful of it.

“Mmn… Good,” he exhaled. I opened my eyes to look up at him, seeing his face and body scrunched up and tense. Matt adjusted his position, and now the top of my head was grazing his stomach as I moved up and down.

The sounds he made, combined with the feeling of his warm flesh moving in and out of my sore mouth had me subconsciously squeezing my thighs together. I slipped my free hand underneath my shorts in order to start rubbing slow circles into my clit, before taking a deep breath and lowering my head, letting his cock slide into my throat.

“Oh fuck,” he whined, pushing my head down further. His body crashed into the back of the couch, his back arching and thighs beginning to squeeze my head. “Fuck me, I needed this so bad…”

I let out an exaggerated moan for the sake of giving him a little bit of vibrational stimulation. It wasn’t entirely fake though.

“Yeah?” he panted. Matt chucked slightly. “I bet you like that… good girl…”

I rolled my eyes and pulled off of him, removing my hand from inside my pants. “I’m never letting you live that down,” I said.

“Shut up,” he said lightheartedly. Matt gripped my hair more harshly, almost forcing his cock back into my mouth without warning.

My gag reflex immediately pushed back and my eyes started watering. I winced slightly, pinching the skin of his thigh hard.

“Ow!” he hissed. I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, wiping the tears away from my eyes. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“So mean,” I mumbled with his cock in my mouth. Matt scratched my scalp a little, making a small effort to soothe my discomfort.

“I was close,” he told me, before I started moving again. He took a moment to gently brush all of my hair out of my face and wipe the tears from my eyes. I loved when he’d let his soft side out. That’s how I knew he wasn’t really upset anymore.

A few minutes went by, most of which I spent teasing him. Swirling my tongue around his tip over and over, hesitant to take him down my throat again out of anxiety. I’d had many catastrophic experiences giving head before. Now that I’d gagged already, I really wasn’t trying to let that happen again.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked me amidst rapid, heaving breaths.

I nodded, humming into his cock. Matt stroked the back of my scalp and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing harshly.

I shook my head, looking up at him. He was looking down at me, with a loving, yet lust-filled gaze.

Seeing his face flushed a scarlet pink color, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and feeling his hand tangled in my hair gave me a little more confidence. I took a deep breath, exhaling as I let his cock slide into my throat once again.

A deep, guttural moan left his body as his tip pressed against the back of my throat. His back arched and he hissed as I began sucking slightly with each movement. I let one of my hands travel up underneath his shirt so I could feel the muscles in his stomach tighten every other second. His fingers dug deeper into the back of my head, pushing me further and further down.

“Y/N…” he moaned quietly. My stomach flipped and my immediate response was to laugh. Matt laughed slightly as well, until it quickly faded and he was back to grunting and whimpering.

“Mmn… perfect,” he hummed, almost as if he were growling, his voice so deep. “I’m so close…”

I let out a small, slightly higher-pitched moan as I adjusted my neck to take him deeper down my throat. It didn’t take long for him to start squeezing my head between his thighs while his hips bucked upward into my face, fucking my mouth. Part of me really wished he was fucking me for real.

Suddenly, I gagged again, but didn’t let go. He was close and I, very selfishly, was dying to feel his hot cum shoot down my throat.

“Keep going,” he whimpered, relaxing the grip he held on my head. I felt tears welling in my eyes as I opened them to look up at him. He was looking down at me, face flushed, temples glistening with sweat, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in desperation. He looked absolutely pitiful.

I paused for a moment to force the tears out from between my eyelids, trying my hardest to avoid triggering the reflex again. I must’ve been subconsciously holding my breath for a minute or two, because I was practically gasping for air through my nostrils.

That was my least favorite part about giving head. But in the end, it was all worth it.

I kept bobbing my head, moaning slightly each time I felt his tip press into the back of my throat. I was getting pretty sore at this point, but he was right; he was definitely close to the edge. Only a few more seconds and he’d be done for.

I shifted slightly in order to caress his balls, but before I could even take them in my hand, Matt’s entire body tensed up. His soft, strangled moans echoed through the entire house as his hips shuddered and trembled, until I felt the hot sensation of his cum hitting the back of my throat and dripping downward. After a second or two, Matt’s hand slid off my head to rest at his side.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, panting. He let out another whine or two as I carefully pulled away from him, swallowing what was in my throat. My tongue ran over his tip as his cock slid out of my mouth, coating the muscle in the last few strings of his cum. It was warm and my eyes practically rolled back in my head as I tasted it. Once I was off of him, I sort of collapsed, letting my head fall and crash into his knee, and I started to cry.

I swallowed again, and I became aware of a dry, aching feeling in my throat. My neck was stiff and my head started pounding. I pressed my face against his leg, trying to suppress the discomfort and nausea.

Matt took a few seconds to catch his breath and give me small praises like, “That was incredible,” and “I really needed that.” I responded with nothing but a small laugh. Then he pulled his boxers back up, and noticed me crying.

“Y/N,” he squeaked, his own voice slightly dry and raspy. I looked up at him, still drawing deep breaths in and out through my nose. He pulled his boxers on and grabbed my hands to help me up onto the couch.

“Are you okay?” he asked, giggling softly. I nodded, no words coming to mind.

Matt swallowed and wiped a tear away from my cheek. “You look really pale,” he whispered, furrowing his eyebrows.

Again, I nodded, closing my eyes and letting my forehead rest against his. “Just need a minute,” I said, barely whispering.

He tucked my hair behind my ear and pushed it behind my shoulders, running his fingers through all the knots he might have made from balling his fist into it several times. It felt nice.

His lips softly grazed against mine, creating a small clicking sound when he pulled away. I let out a heavy exhale and looked at him, exhaustion ever present in both my body and my mind. Matt pulled me closer, whispering in my ear.

“I’m not upset anymore,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, burying my face into his neck. “I’m okay.”

“Do you want some water?” he asked me, taking my hand in his.

“I’ll get it in a sec,” I sighed, swallowing. “I still feel nauseous.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “I’m sorry.”

“Say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time,” I laughed dryly. Matt chuckled, kissing my neck while carefully intertwining his soft fingers with mine.

We sat for another minute or two and I was eventually able to get up and get some water. The lateness of the hour hit me hard once I came back from my fatigued, post-head state. Matt was practically merciless when it came to the aftercare, asking to do all these things like massage my neck and play with my hair. It was endearing, but I couldn’t tell if he was doing it to make me feel better or to keep his mind off of the stupid Oscars. Both were very likely.

Matt didn’t bother to shower or anything, quickly changing into a large tee and a clean pair of boxers for bed. He lingered in the bathroom doorway, watching me move like a sloth as I brushed my teeth and washed my face.

“Can I help you?” I asked with a mouthful of toothpaste. My eyes made contact with the reflection of his through the mirror and he smiled at my teasing.

He took a few steps closer to me as I spat out the toothpaste, wiping my mouth on the back of my wrist. Before I could even turn to face him, he placed his warm hands on either side of my waist and kissed me deeply.

My first response was to push back slightly, but the kiss was so warm that I couldn’t even protest and immediately melted into him, my hands pressed against his torso. I got the most intense chills; my heart was beating so fast that I was worried I’d faint right there in his arms.

“Mm. Minty,” he hummed with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. I rolled my eyes and pushed his body away from me.

“Give a man head one time, and suddenly he wants to be your boyfriend,” I sighed.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to be your boyfriend,” he grinned, making himself comfortable with his arms wrapped around my waist from behind, beginning to place soft kisses along my neck. “The head was just a bonus.”

I rolled my eyes again, unable to smother the grin that was overtaking my face. “Typical.”

#i cooked #possibly my best smut #banger #matt stone #baseketball #fanfiction #fluff #x reader #cannibal the musical #fem reader #mattrey #smut #matt stone x reader #trey parker #angst

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kybercrystals94 · 8 months ago

Text

The Hostage

(Part 4)

Read here on Ao3!

Master Post here!

Rated: T | Words: 1306 | Summary: A change in plans...

One rotation earlier…

Omega sits up at the chirp of an incoming transmission. Javik seems startled as well, staring at the transmission code for several moments before hesitantly answering.

“My friend!” a voice crows cheerily through the speaker. “I am calling to check on your business deal. I trust it is going as smoothly as we planned?”

Javik visibly relaxes. “Syko, it is good to hear your voice. I did not know you had my comm channel.”

“You gave it to me,” Syko says with a chuckle that crackles like static. “Or were you too drunk to remember?” Another rumbling laugh.

Javik smiles. “It wouldn’t surprise me. We did get the good stuff.”

“The great stuff!” Syko sighs. “Are you still waiting for the clones to deliver your bounty?”

Javik glances at Omega. “I haven’t made contact yet for the trade off.”

“Why not? Time is money, my friend.”

“When they arrive, it will be four against one,” Javik says, lowering his voice as though it will prevent Omega from hearing him.

Omega rolls her eyes.

“But don’t you have the collateral? A gun to her head will prevent any funny business.”

Javik is practically whispering when he says, “But after the trade off…what’s to say they don’t come after me then?”

There is a long pause. “Fear is unbecoming of a bounty hunter, Javik.”

“It is not fear,” Javik protests, “it is common sense.”

“Hmmm,” Syko muses. “I suppose I could help you, for a piece of the payout. I will not take any credit for the bounty, but I expect to be compensated for my time and effort.”

“Of course,” Javik says, “that is more than fair.”

“I know it is,” Syko says. The humor is gone from his voice. “Send me your coordinates, and I will be there within the rotation.”

The transmission cuts off before Javik can say anything else, although his mouth is half open to speak some sort of reply. He shuts his mouth with a snap and begins typing.

“Who is Syko?” Omega asks.

Javik doesn’t look at her. “None of your business, kid.”

“Do you trust him?” Omega persists. “I promise, my brothers won’t do anything to you if I tell them not to. You don’t need Syko’s help.”

“I trust Syko a thousand times more than I trust a little brat,” Javik retorts. “Now, shut up!”

Omega flops back down on her cot, glaring daggers at the aspiring bounty hunter hunched over the console. She doesn’t know how he can be so smart and so stupid at the exact same time. He managed to kidnap her and disappear so that her brothers hadn’t found them…but he is terrified enough that he’s been stalling all this time. It makes sense that this wasn’t his idea at all, but a plot designed by this mysterious Syko.

There is something bigger at play, and Javik is too stupid to see it.

Omega has plotted and schemed dozens of ways to get word to her brothers; however, Javik - somehow - never sleeps or is out of her line of sight…except when she goes to the refresher. She has searched that tiny room a hundred times for any sort of tool or weak point. Nothing. She imagines Javik sleeps when she sleeps, but the moment she opens her eyes, Javik is wide awake. He never even looks tired. It is infuriating to be outsmarted by an idiot. A paranoid idiot at that.

Whatever Syko’s plan is…she just hopes it ends with her back with her brothers, and Javik robbed of his entire bounty.

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Syko drops down from the hatch with a thud of heavy boots on durasteel. He is wearing a sweeping, scarlet coat that billows around his knees when he spins to face Javik. “My friend,” he says, holding out his arms. “It has been too long.”

Javik towers over Syko, but something in the way he hikes up his shoulders makes him look smaller than the man looking up at him. “I cannot thank you enough for your help on this job. I wouldn’t be able to get into the guild without it.”

Syko claps a hand on each of Javik’s arms. “It is I who should be thanking you,” Skyo says, a broad smile showing blinding white teeth. Javik smiles back, but looks a little confused by the sentiment. Syko continues breezily, pushing Javik aside, “Where is our collateral, huh?”

Javik jerks his head in Omega’s direction. “She hasn’t been much trouble. Talks more than I’d like, though.”

Syko meets Omega’s gaze, and Omega narrows her eyes at him. “You don’t look like a bounty hunter,” she tells him scathingly.

“And how many bounty hunters have you seen?” Syko asks.

“A few,” Omega says. “And I’ve studied holopics.”

“What an interesting hobby,” Syko says. “So you must know there’s a bounty on your little, golden head.”

Javik’s expression goes slack with surprise, and he looks at Syko. “Wait, what?”

Syko rolls his eyes, draws his blaster, and shoots Javik through the chest.

Omega makes some sort of strangled noise, clapping her hands over her mouth, as Javik falls to the floor.

Skyo kicks at the body, doing little more than jostling it. “Now that he’s out of the way,” he says to Omega, casually, as though they are not having a conversation over a still warm corpse, “let’s make a call to your brothers.”

A combination of fear and shock make tears well up, a lump lodging in Omega’s throat as she tries to force herself to look away from Javik’s lifeless form. Now isn’t the time to show weakness, Omega, she scolds herself. However, it feels like all her courage has evaporated, floating away like the smoke still curling from the hole in Javik’s chest.

“We don’t have all day!” Syko barks impatiently.

Omega startles, eyes flashing up to the face of her new captor. She swallows, swallows again, trying to dislodge the thick emotion stuck there. “Why?” she asks, voice small. “Why call them? Aren’t you just going to take me to the Kaminoans?”

Syko glares down at her. “Javik was right. You do talk more than you should.”

Omega has to step over the body to follow Syko to the cockpit. Her boot catches on Javik’s arm, and she nearly falls. Syko grabs her shoulder to steady her, rough fingers digging into the soft hollow of her joint. She wrenches herself away the moment she has her feet under her.

Syko sits down at the controls. “What’s their comm code?”

“What are we going to tell them?” Omega asks instead.

“We’re going to tell them where we are. Then, they’re going to join Javik while I reap the rewards of two bounties,” Syko says.

“I’m not going to tell them to come,” Omega decides, “I won’t.”

“Fine,” Syko says, as if he expected as much, “I’ll just look through the transmission records and tell them myself. You don’t have to say anything.”

He deftly sorts through the meager communication log and begins a connection. Omega lunges forward as soon as she hears the transmission is accepted. “Hunter, I don’t have much time! Something is wrong! You need to–” Syko ends the transmission, slamming his fist on the controls with terrifying force.

“You stupid girl,” he says, but there is no heat to match his actions. In fact, he sounds pleased.

Omega stares at him defiantly.

He smiles at her. “That is exactly what I needed.”

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Syko’s ship has a cell. It’s compact and smells terrible, but Omega notices something the moment Syko activates the shield, locking her in: there is a vent.

It’s small, almost too small, but Omega will make it work.

Syko might be smarter than Javik by a lightyear, but there was one advantage Javik had over his murderer.

He never underestimated his prisoner.

MASTER POST || PREVIOUS PART || NEXT PART

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @dumfanting

#the bad batch #star wars #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #the hostage #part 4 #minor character death

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a-tame-brat · 2 years ago

Text

Apparently I have an egg-nancy kink now. Thanks a lot, @eggedbellies. Now all I can think about is being a freelance incubator.

Anyway, here's a couple thousand words that spawned from an anon ask I saw. Eggs, non-humans, oviposition, egg laying, mind-altering. IDK. Probably not for everyone, so read at your own risk.

I’ve carried eggs for several species, from squishy little amphibian eggs that make my womb feel like a stress ball before they hatch inside me, to little clutches of leathery reptilian eggs; I’ve even carried a few hard-shelled eggs that come out over the course of a few days and, once, a massive dragon egg that took me a month to recover from. I charge extra for dragons now. My policy is to let the parents decide how much they want to be involved; my contracts stipulate that I’ll stay in good physical health and not do or eat anything that might harm the eggs, but I’m perfectly capable of handling each incubation and laying by myself. (I’m not proud of it, but I’ve used the phrase “strong independent incubator who don’t need do parents” more than once). And it’s a good gig; the pay is incredible, the oviposition is usually amazing, and the laying- god, there’s nothing like my cunt stretching around an egg, nothing like the squirmy feeling of live young crawling out of me.

But this client… ugh. I’ve never carried for her species before, and this girl got her eggs fertilized gods only know where- and I don’t think she has any idea what to expect. The deposition was pleasant enough, with 18 good-sized eggs squeezing through my cunt and cervix to fill my womb with that perfect weight, but she’s been a pain in my ass ever since. It’s her first clutch, you see, and she’s hovering over me like it’s my first, too. Every time I try to stand up, she’s telling me to rest. Girl, I need to stretch my legs! Use the can! Get fresh air! Eventually, I’ll probably get the urge to settle into the nest she’s trying to build me, but for now? I’m not so heavy I can’t walk, and I’d rather be home with a book. But, she’s the client, and the pay is pretty good. At least she’s cute, and her ovipositor is better than a cock. That is a definite benefit. She loves fucking me with it, feeling her tip nudging against my plugged cervix. And my friends think I’m an idiot for complaining about laying around being fed and cleaned and doted on all day. She doesn’t know how long the clutch needs to incubate, though, so I’m a little peeved. On the application, she said it was just two months, but I’ve been gravid for two and a half now! I had a regular client who was planning to use my services, but this client made me miss the deadline. I liked that other client! Easy eggs, very hands-off until the laying. But no. I’m stuck with this clueless newbie.

I can feel the change. The eggs feel heavier somehow, they feel ready. I’ve commandeered the my client built for me and transformed it to my needs, and I’m a lot more willing to accept her help with my day to day needs. It took a lot longer than I expected- months longer. At least the sex is good. And she’s really not so bad, she just wants to be a good mother, and take good care of her incubator. But then, during a lazy morning fuck, her tip plunges through my cervix. I’m completely calm. It’s laying time, nothing I haven’t done before. But my client… she’s a wreck. You’d think she was about to squeeze out a couple dozen hard-shelled eggs, not me! I get onto my hands and knees and tell her to get ready to catch, since that’s what she wants to do. Bless her, she even licks my cunt while the first egg passes through my cervix and out my channel. The stretch is delicious, it’s just right, and I climax right when the large end pressed against my clit. I might have to contract with her again for the next batch. Eggs just a little bigger than a chicken egg are, frankly, my favorite to lay. Once the first egg is safely deposited in the nest, she returns and fucks me until she feels the next egg against the tip of her ovipositor. She’s so caring, so enthusiastic, I can almost forgive her for the incessant hovering. She just wants her babies to be safe.

We’re five eggs in when I realize that something’s not quite right. Each egg stretches me just as much as the first one. I mean, I usually loosen up after the first few, but these feel like the very first one each time. And my belly is still just as big as it was before. Usually, I’d start to feel my skin relaxing, getting soft and saggy instead of taut and stretched as the clutch empties out. But… that’s not happening. I jokingly ask if the eggs are getting bigger and almost shit myself when she says that they are. Then, she has the gall to ask if eggs aren't supposed to get bigger.

No, no they’re not! That’s never happened to me! It’s supposed to get easier as I lay, not harder! But she brings the newest egg up for me to see, and damn if it’s not a fucking goose egg, big as a softball. I’m panting with the effort of holding myself up at this point, but I manage to gasp at the size of it. And there’s so many more inside me still!

By the twelfth egg, the damn things are as big as an emu egg and I’m slumped over a small mountain of pillows instead of trying to hold myself up. Fuck, this is going to be the dragon egg all over again! My hips feel loose, my pelvis has relaxed, but I’m not sure I can keep doing this. She’s telling me that there’s six more eggs! My panic seems to be rubbing off on her, and she’s licking and fingering my gaping cunt like there’s no tomorrow. And it’s helping, it is, being blissed out with pleasure usually makes things easier, but it might be better if I just had a minute alone to breathe. But when I try to ask her to leave me alone, she bursts into tears. She can’t leave me alone, I’m her precious incubator! She’s going to take care of me, and I don’t have to worry. That alone worries me. After the eggs are out and I’ve recovered enough to take care of myself again, I’m going home. Take a little holiday, rest up, and find my next client. Maybe an amphibian this time- much smaller eggs. The next egg breaches my cervix and I’m wailing in pain, then pleasure as the massive shell pushes against my clit's internal nerves before it’s even all the way into my vagina. I feel liquid dripping down my legs from the gush of slick I’ve produced mixing with my cum. But my client licks it all up like it’s the most precious, delicious ambrosia, kisses at my stretching lips, massages my taint to keep it from tearing.

She says it's the last egg. My precious mate had been with me through every moment of this incubation and labor, and I can't imagine doing it without her. She promises me that she'll get me through this, "this" being an egg bigger than that fucking dragon egg. I know she will, I know it. At this point in my labor, I'm sweating buckets. My love keeps my face clean, though, keeps the sweat out of my eyes even as she fingers my gaping channel and works the egg through my cervix. It hurts so badly that I think I must have torn, but then the egg feels so good, so perfect while it passes through me. My pussy lips do tear a little, but my darling soothes the pain with her tongue, pressing on my belly to help. I'm worried that I'll be too stretched to recover fully, but she promises that I'll recover, and that she'd never want another incubator even if I did stay loose. She tells me how perfect I am, how she never could have hoped for such a big egg out of a human, that I was made to be hers. I was, I think. I know I'm delirious from pleasure and pain, but I don't care. I believe her. I never want anyone but her to touch me again, no one else's eggs will ever swell my belly. I love her, I can never be away from her again! The final egg slides out and I clench around nothing, feeling utterly empty. My mate caresses my face, my cunt, my whole body, tells me how perfect I am, and kisses the tears from my face. She'll never leave me alone. I was meant to come to her, all the others were just practice for this. Just preparation for us to be together, for me to be hers, her perfect incubating mate. She can't wait to raise our children together.

Our eggs are all out, curing in the warm air. They should hatch in a few days, and I’ll get to meet my sweet babies. My mate- I can’t believe I ever thought of her as just a client- is holding me carefully. She put my hips back into joint while I was still blissed out from the last egg, and she’s got her ovipositor resting in my cunt, waiting to feel me tighten up around her. My cervix is still so stretched out that her squishy tip actually sits inside my empty womb. I tried to convince her to fill me up right away, that I don’t feel right without her eggs inside me, but she insists that I heal fully first. She doesn’t want me to hurt, not unless it’s from the glorious stretch of our eggs. She needs me healthy if I’m going to carry another clutch each year, after all. In fact, our next clutch is almost ready for fertilization, and she’s going to bring me with her to meet the new sperm donor. She says they have wonderful cocks, even better than her ovipositor, and she wants to see me stuffed with cock, high on their hallucinogenic sperm. I have my doubts about anything being better than her ovipositor, but if it will make her happy, I’ll do anything. She’s usually right about everything, after all. She was right about me belonging to her.

#egg kink #eggnancy #nsft #monster fucker #egg laying #very particular smut #smut #overstimulation #crying #mind altering #psychological manipulation

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darthpastry · 1 year ago

Text

Incorrect Quotes of the Kingdom Pt. 6 (Ft. FNaf)

Ganondorf: You played me like a fiddle.

Link: Actually no, fiddles are quite hard to play, and I am not smart enough to do so. I played you like the cheap kazoo you are.

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

Rauru: I wish I had a tight-knit group of friends to fight crime with.

Tulin: I wish I had a tight-knit group of friends to commit crime with.

Gregory: I wish a had a tight-knit group of friends.

Roxy: I wish I had friends.

Link: I wish I could knit.

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

Purah: Link has no survival instincts. I think he was born without them.

Rauru: That can't be true!

Purah: Oh yeah? I'll prove it. Hey, Link! Race you downstairs!

Link: *Jumps out the window of a three-story building.*

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Link: Can you be quiet? I'm trying to think.

Revali: Yeah, no worries. Doing anything for the first time can be difficult.

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Link: Why stop at capitalism? Destroy everything.

Gregory: *Holding an unlabeled cardboard box.* Way ahead of you.

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Michael Afton: How are you alive?

William Afton: How are you alive?

Michael Afton: Fair point.

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Ganondorf: Open up RIGHT NOW!

Link: It started when I was six years old...

Ganondorf: I MEANT THE DOOR. OPEN THE DOOR!

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Mipha: Why would anyone want to harm Link?

Revali: Maybe because they met him?

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Gregory: Do you have any idea what you're doing?

Link: *Gluing several broken STAFF bots together to make a fortress* Why start now?

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Link: HYDRATE OR DIE-DRATE!

Gregory: *Aggressively throwing water bottles.*

Glamrock Freddy: Uh... what's up with them?

Purah: They're trying to yell mental health and well-being into all of us.

Tulin: I APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU!

Vanessa: *crying* It's working.

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Link: So, you like cats?

Zelda: Yeah.

Link: *tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass of water off the table*

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Gregory: Are you a boy or girl?

Mangle: I am a failure.

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Rauru: I'M ADOPTING LINK AND YOU COWARDS CAN'T TELL ME NO!

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Gregory: Do you ever feel like there's a bug on you when there isn't?

Link: Those are the ghosts of bugs you killed before.

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Link: I've done a lot of dumb stuff.

Sidon: I've witnessed the dumb stuff.

Tulin: I recorded the dumb stuff.

Gregory: I joined in on the dumb stuff.

Rauru: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF.

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Gregory: I've never seen snow. Can you describe it to me?

Link: Smells like water.

Gregory: It's just like I'm there.

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Vanessa: Why are my hands shaky?

Gregory: Your skeleton is ready to hatch. Congratulations.

Vanessa: This is so ominous, thank you.

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Link: Can I offer you a nice apple in this trying time?

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Gregory: How the heck do I talk to people?

Link: Stand in front of them and press A.

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Tulin: OUR MILKSHAKES BRING ALL THE BEES TO THE CAR!

Gregory: WE SPILLED.

Tulin: ALL OVER THE CAR.

Gregory: BEES ARE.

Tulin: INSIDE THE CAR.

Gregory: THEY COULD KILL US.

Tulin: WE ARE ALLERGIC TO BEES.

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Tulin: You know how we're made of atoms and atoms never touch each other?

Gregory: So, you see, there's no way Link could've punched Revali.

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Link: When people say my name, I'm like... "can't believe I exist."

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Link: I am 39 cheetos tall.

Zelda: You're measuring your height in cheetos?

Link: Yeah, we ran out of doritos.

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Gregory: WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!

Vanessa: But I'm a vegan.

Gregory: Wakey wakey vegetables and sadness.

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Glamrock Freddy: Everyone, sychronize your watches.

Glamrock Chica: I don't know how to do that.

Monty: I don't have a watch.

Roxy: Neither do I.

Tulin, Gregory, and Link: *Crash through wall in go-kart, wearing 8-bit sunglasses.*

Link: REALITY IS A CONSTRUCT AND TIME IS AN ILLUSION!

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Gregory: Underestimate me. It'll be fun.

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Sidon: I'm genuinely surprised you haven't gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.

Link: *finger guns* Nat 20 charisma.

Riju: That is NOT how it works.

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Rauru: Link, I am beginning to question your sanity.

Link: *Running to fight a lynel with nothing but tree branches and 4 apples* Really? I always knew it was never there.

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Zelda: What would you do if you were scrolling through Tumblr and someone you didn't know had posted a picture of your dad with a caption that says "hate this guy so much"?

Michael: Reblog it. Duh.

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Random BotW NPC: The first time I saw you, you stole my heart.

Link: I'm a kleptomaniac. That doesn't mean anything.

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Rauru: When Link was washing dishes, he kept pushing glasses under water saying stuff like "Who do you work for? Who's your contact?!"

Sonia: At least he's having fun?

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Glamrock Freddy: Go to the charging station to rest or you'll hate yourself in the morning.

Roxy: I already hate myself.

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Link: Remember to drink water!

Revali: No.

Link: Then become the dirt I walk on!

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Tulin: *Takes free sample twice.* Robbery and fraud. I am a rebel.

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Link: When I get murdered can you make sure it's an unsolved case?

Zelda: Wh-what?

Link: I wanna be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.

Zelda: Cann we go back to the part where you said "when I get murdered"?

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Charlie Emily: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

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Link: I creep around the house like a spooky little entity. Standing in doorways and making an entire pack of biscuits disappear in the night.

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

Roxy: Why do I always tell people I'm cool? I'm so uncool.

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

Revali: I have issues.

Link: Finally, you admit it! The first step to being a better person-

Revali: With you.

Link: Fair enough.

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

Zelda: When I said bring me back something from the beach, I meant a seashell!

Link: *Struggling to hold a seagull.* Would've been nice if you TOLD me that!

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

Gregory: Money... is like president trading cards.

Vanessa: Gregory, I told you to go to bed half an hour ago.

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

Link: I like wearing oversized sweaters. Not just because they're extremely comfy and cuddly, but because whenever the sleeves are really big, I get to flop them around and smack people.

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

Link: What's up. I'm back.

Ganondorf: You're dead! I saw you die!

Link: Death is a social construct.

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

Link: What would your dad say if he found it?

Tulin: What if we run a little experiment where we find out what happens if we never tell him?

Link: Deal.

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

Riju: Where did Link go?

Tulin: He got arrested.

Sidon: What for this time?

Link: *Bursts through the window.* The cops are after me. I thought it would be funny to steal crackers and throw them at people.

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

Link: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Rauru: Those are your wanted posters!

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

Vanessa: Remember, curiosity killed the cat.

Link: And satisfaction brought it back. So yes Gregory, go find out if that thing catches fire.

Vanessa: You're a bad influence.

Link: And you don't know your sayings.

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

Vanessa: Go to bed.

Gregory: But-

Vanessa: *Cocks gun.* This is no longer a request. This is a threat.

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

Revali: Imagine being stupid. Like Link.

Link: Excuse me?

Revali: You're excused.

Link: What was the point in calling me stupid?

Revali: I just thought you needed a reminder.

Mipha: I don't think Link is stupid. I think they're very clever.

Revali: Nobody asked.

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

Michael Afton: I have no emotions.

Elizabeth: You cried watching Bambi.

Evan: And the Lion King.

Charlie: And Moana.

Michael: Okay, how about we all shut up.

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

Purah: Link, we need to talk about your will.

Link: Why? What's wrong with it?

Purah: All it says is "bury me with extra bones to mess with archeologists lol".

Link: Yeah, and?

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

Gregory: I wholeheartedly believe in settling this disagreement like adults

Link: So... rock paper scissors?

Gregory: Exactly.

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toki-macross · 10 months ago

Text

This was another Christmas' present for my nephew. They were visiting, and at night, I worked on this to eventually give to him. (Actually later inspired him to ask for his own Faux Stainglass making stuff.) Click below for the crazy process to get it made.

Now... I was in my families guest bedroom, since my bedroom was larger and better for my brother's family to be in. Previously in this room, was our collection of weapons. Because my family appreciates the astetic and well, also the use in some regards. Though mainly machetes and hatches, for outdoor yard work. A bunch are just wall hangers. Though some are sharp, and some are heavy.

(Dad has taken them down, so he can build a better, safer case to put them in. So smol children can't get grabby.) Trying to get the piece done in time. I realized that it was late, and I needed a good straightedge. Now, I grew up in a family, that had many sharp things about the house. With my father being a woodcarver. I was taught at an early age, to appreciate and respect sharp things. For being useful, and also dangerous. As an adult, I think I own... (counts) um... ALOT of sharp and pointys in my bedroom. But my bedroom also doubles as my workshop, so it makes sense. Though, I do have some collection stuff in here. But mostly functional blades, like my exactos, box cutters and the like for crafting/building.

And the reason I tell this story, is because it was second nature, to just do this...

Reached back, (since I couldn't go to my room to possibly grab the Jill Ruler) And took out the collection's oldest resident. My father's Machete he brought to America from his birthplace in Columbia. It's older then me by a long shot, probably 50-55 years old, and beloved as a main staple when it comes to outdoor wood chopping. It is certainly a first reach when needing to do things, and using it as a straight edge was normal for me... But as I was working on it, forgot that this isn't normal and had a chuckle about it. And sent pictures to friends who know me, and they were amused. Note: it is sharp, and can be dangerous. Treat any sharp object with respect and care. Don't just grab things willy nilly. So, with a straight edge secure, I started working on the design.

The process of making Faux Stainglass, usually takes me 3-4 days. Sketching and doing the lines, is day one. Because the liquid leading needs to ideally, cure overnight. I tend to sketch out the design, then overlay it with Sharpie. Since the general thickness of a basic sharpie, is about what the lines are in Liquid leading. (Though a properly skilled person, probably could make the lines how ever they want. I am still learning)

As you can tell from my Wobbly lines. It also doesn't help that often these projects were at minimum, a year apart. If not several. So any good lineart skill I gained, might have been downgraded as I worked on a new project. Day 2 is color, which then needs to cure overnight as well.

And this is what it looked like, before drying. So, there is some color change as it becomes more transparent. Day 3-4 is letting it cure fully. In case various sections might have had too thick of paint, and it taking longer to cure. Mainly a choice I make to make sure that the piece is finished, before being presented as a present.

#my art #pokemon arceus #notfr #pokemon #faux stained glass #be safe when using sharp objects. Even for straight edges #Arceus

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kingedmundsroyalmurder · 1 year ago

Text

In the middle of Valancy Stirling's fourteenth year, a great excitement came to Deerwood. Valancy heard the news from Cousin Olive, who had heard from her parents. Olive pulled Valancy aside after school one day and told her with great importance, "Have you heard? A Princess is coming to live here!" Sara Crewe meets Valancy Stirling.

Chapter four: Valancy discovers a new pastime and the Stirlings hatch a plan.

Author's note: moving forward, for the sake of actually getting work done at work and also saving my wrists, I'll be posting chapters weekly, on Thursdays.

Read the full fic at the AO3 link above, or read just chapter four below!

Valancy had no idea of the turmoil she had caused in her cousin that day, nor did she have the slightest inkling that, when Olive had indignantly relayed the news to her parents that evening, Aunt Wellington had actually chastised Olive for listening in. "Eavesdroppers never hear any good about themselves," Aunt Wellington had reminded her furious daughter, and she had allowed Olive to flounce off to bed without supper. Aunt Wellington had not particularly enjoyed her tea with Mr. Carrisford and his ward, but she had been very pleased by the social recognition it brought to her, and she did not want Olive to squander their family's opportunity in a fit of childish jealousy.

But as we have said, Valancy knew nothing of this. The only thing Valancy knew was that, for the first time in her entire life, someone had chosen her. And not just anyone, either. For, the more they talked, the more Valancy felt that Sara Crewe was the most interesting person in the entire world. Sara told stories as easily as breathing, and it seemed like everything she said had a hint of magic or adventure in it. She told Valancy more about India, and about the voyage from London to Deerwood. When she tired of those, she invented fairy stories out of thin air, epics about lords and princesses that would have been right at home in the Blue Castle. Once, Valancy got up the courage to shyly suggest an idea for a story that Sara was telling, a fantastical tale about a woman traveling through a sea of flowers to get to her long lost brother.

"Perhaps there is a bird that eats only the honey from these flowers," Valancy said. "So small it can hide in the petals, but just big enough to carry a message."

Sara seized on the idea with alacrity, and expanded on it, giving the bird eyes made of gemstones and wings of gossamer thread. "And the woman saw the bird and said to it, 'My friend, I beg you, will you aid me in my quest?' And the bird said -- do you think the bird can talk, Valancy?"

"Of course it can," Valancy said, too wrapped up in the story to feel shy. "But its voice is as small as it is, so no one has ever heard it before."

"And the bird said, 'If it is within my power I shall help, my lady, but I ask a favor in return.'" Sara paused, looking at Valancy, and Valancy realized that Sara was inviting her to join in the telling of the story.

"The bird… the bird said, 'I am looking for my lost love,'" Valancy said, and Sara smiled encouragingly at her to continue. "'She has feathers soft as these flower petals, and her eyes shine like sapphires. We were separated when a great wind swept across the sea. I found shelter in a budding blossom, but she was tossed into the wind like an elm seed and carried away. You are tall, my lady, and can see far into the horizon. Will you help me search for her?'"

Sara recognized the story, as Valancy had hoped she would, and she clapped her hands with delight. After that they shared the story, with Sara playing the part of the woman and Valancy transforming herself into a tiny, magical bird fluttering alongside her. When at last, after several days of telling, the pair found their respective happiness, Sara and Valancy had accumulated a sizable audience of listeners. The weather had turned cold, and many of the students found it far more enjoyable to listen to this new, odd form of theatre happening in the schoolroom than to brave the bitter wind of Muskoka winter. Had she stopped to reflect, Valancy would have been utterly tongue tied by such an audience. She had never been able to recite well, and dreaded the times when Miss Bryant called upon her to answer a question in front of everybody. But in the midst of the telling, she did not have time to even notice the audience. She barely saw them at all, caught up as she was in the sea of flowers, her gossamer wings beating rapidly to keep pace with Sara's stride.

Olive, although she doggedly refused to join the growing group of girls (and a few of the younger boys) listening to the story, did make one more effort to reverse the catastrophe. She told her mother that Doss was making up fairy stories, and that all that excitement couldn't be good for her cousin's health or her moral upbringing. Aunt Wellington felt this an alarming enough development to share with Mrs. Fredrick and Cousin Stickles, and an emergency council was held one day while the girls were at school.

"She's always been such a good girl," Mrs. Fredrick Stirling said worriedly. "She reads too much, of course, but I've never permitted her any novels. Where could she be coming up with these things?" Aunt Wellington had passed along Olive's report that Valancy fancied herself a bird -- and a male bird at that -- and the news was proving nearly too much for Mrs. Stirling's nerves.

"Come now Amelia," Uncle Benjamin said. Sara Crewe had sent her servant girl to his store the other day and spent a great deal there, and he was feeling indulgent of the young princess. "Children will have these flights of fancy sometimes. Has she stopped doing her chores?"

Mrs. Stirling had to admit that Valancy had not.

"Has she started talking this nonsense to you and Christine?"

No, Valancy had not breathed a word to her mother or Cousin Stickles about any of this. Mrs. Stirling frowned as she recalled how she had asked Doss every evening that week how school had been and not once had Doss said a word to her about being a bird or a sea of flowers or any of the rest of these lunacies.

"She certainly should have told you," Uncle Benjamin said, when Mrs. Fredrick relayed this. "But really, Amelia, she's a young girl. You have to expect these things sometimes."

"I never did anything like this when I was a girl," Mrs. Fredrick Stirling said, deeply affronted.

"Nor does Olive," Aunt Wellington added, feeling accused by association.

Uncle Benjamin saw that he would have to be more direct, if he wanted to be understood. "Be sensible, Amelia," he said. "Your daughter has befriended the richest girl in the whole town." And here he realized that in all the excitement he had forgotten to share the newest piece of news he had gleaned about Miss Sara Crewe. "I heard this morning that she's the heiress to the richest diamond mine in all of India, and she and her guardian certainly spend money like that's the truth. She's bound to have some eccentricities. I don't see any harm in letting Doss hang around with her, not when she has that much good fortune to spare."

"But Doss has precious few marital prospects as it is," Mrs. Stirling said, uncharacteristically speaking one of her private fears out loud. "Eccentricities are all very well when you're a diamond heiress, but what will people think if Doss goes around spouting nonsense like that?"

"They'll think that Doss has a very wealthy friend and that she's an excellent girl to marry because of it," Uncle Benjamin said firmly. The women in the room looked doubtful of this pronouncement, but as Uncle Benjamin was the only man present he was taken as the authority on male preference.

"I… I suppose she's not so bad," Mrs. Stirling said after a moment. "Miss Crewe, that is. She said hello very respectfully to everyone in church last week. But really. Birds?"

"Maybe you can encourage her towards more sensible past times," Uncle Benjamin allowed. The inspiration struck. "Invite her here, where you can watch over them."

Mrs. Stirling's hands flew to her mouth. "Here?" she gasped, looking around at her sitting room. "I couldn't possibly entertain an heiress here! Why we can barely afford to have the family over once a year for our anniversary!"

Uncle Benjamin considered the problem. Aunt Wellington, whom he would normally expect to jump in and offer to host, remained conspicuously silent. She had not forgiven Sara the slight against Olive, for all that she had reprimanded Olive for overhearing it. After a moment he nodded decisively. "I've got it," he proclaimed.

"What?" Cousin Stickles asked. In the absence of Valancy, it fell to her to ask the prompting questions.

"I shall invite Mr. Carrisford and his ward over for dinner next Saturday. You," and here he nodded to Aunt Wellington and Mrs. Fredrick in turn, "shall join us, and bring your daughters to keep Miss Crewe company." He sat back in his chair, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Aunt Wellington and Mrs. Fredrick Stirling agreed that this was a capital idea. Aunt Wellington very much liked the idea of repaying Mr. Carrisford's hospitality without having to host him herself, and Mrs. Stirling was anxious to see Miss Crewe and Doss for herself. She trusted Benjamin's judgment, of course, but, well, it wasn't his daughter thinking she was a bird. Things were different to a mother.

***

Valancy felt she might faint when she heard of the plan that evening. A torrent of memories tumbled through her mind, each more dreadful than the last, of past Stirling clan dinner parties. Uncle Benjamin would make jokes only he found amusing and Uncle James would grow cross when the conversation did not meet his standard of refinement and Cousin Georgiana would talk endlessly of funerals. Aunt Wellington would no doubt tell the story of the missing wedding teaspoon, and Uncle Benjamin would bring up the raspberry jam, and Mrs. Fredrick would tell of how she had sneezed when being measured for her school dress and the pattern had come out crooked. All this, Valancy could have born and, indeed, did bear each time the clan gathered. But to hear all the usual topics trotted out in front of Sara!

'I shan't be able to bear it,' Valancy thought wildly. 'Truly, I shall die on the spot if Uncle Benjamin so much as looks in the direction of a jam pot.'

"Did you hear me Doss?" Mrs. Stirling asked, cutting through Valancy's racing thoughts.

"No," Valancy admitted. "I'm sorry."

"I said, be sure to write your Uncle Benjamin a thank you card for his generosity," Mrs. Stirling said. She peered at Valancy over her knitting. "Are you catching cold again? You look peaky."

"I'm fine," Valancy said. Then, because there was nothing else she could say, she added, "I'll be sure to write Uncle Benjamin tonight before bed."

"Good," Mrs. Stirling said.

"It's a pity it's bound to snow next week," Cousin Stickles said. "Doss will surely ketch measles if she walks to Benjamin's in the snow."

The other two reflected on the statement. "Providence will provide," Mrs. Stirling said after a moment. She said this with such unshakable majesty that the other two busied themselves with their work just to avoid having to admit that they did not see how such a thing could be done.

"Maybe the weather will be nice," Valancy ventured. Both Mrs. Stirling and Cousin Stickles contradicted this immediately, and Cousin Stickles launched into a complaint about the dreariness of winter, which seemed to come earlier every year and each time last longer than the previous. Valancy applied herself to her quilt and tried to take refuge in the Blue Castle. She found it particularly difficult that evening, for each time she had just settled in another entirely mundane worry would cross her mind and the entire castle crumbled away. At one point she imagined Uncle Benjamin asking Sara why young ladies were like bad grammarians and she turned so violently pale that Mrs. Stirling sent Cousin Stickles to fetch the thermometer at once.

"You'd best go to bed early," Cousin Stickles told her, although the thermometer had turned up nothing unusual. "You've been so lucky with colds this year -- only two, and it's nearly Christmas! It won't do for you to ketch one this close to the holidays."

Valancy had been sick with cold more Christmases than she had been well, although it would not do to remind Cousin Stickles of this. Instead, glad to have an excuse to quit her endless quilt piecing early, she dutifully put her work aside and went up to her room.

In truth, she did feel a little queer. A pit of dread had opened deep in her stomach and she knew already that nothing would fill it until the dinner party had passed. But the only thing worse than going to the dinner party would be falling sick and missing it. Oh, she would not be able to stand it if Sara went and she did not and she was forced to stay home and imagine all the things that the Stirling clan were saying about her.

She would be careful, she resolved. She would take great care not to get sick before Saturday. She would stay inside and she would stay out of the rain and -- and here Valancy steeled herself before making this last silent promise -- she would ask Cousin Stickles to rub Redfern's liniment on her chest in the evenings. After all, Cousin Stickles always said that it couldn't do any harm and it might do some good. Valancy needed all the good she could muster.

#blue castle book club #a princess comes to deerwood

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ndantalion · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter One

This didn’t have to be a police are involved sort of problem but my parents made it into one so here I am waiting in a bush for that problem to go away. I may have stolen one thing of heritage booze, a bottle of wine that they’ll get in trouble for stashing in their basement, but I’ll get in much more trouble for having about town. That is, even if I wasn’t taking little sips when no one’s paying attention.

It’s fine though. The Eye of the Sun (long closed) looks stunning lit up at night. The urban sprawl doesn’t reach nearly as high on the neighboring peaks, mostly spilling out into the valley and along several rivers to the ocean far away. Not everyone is allowed up there—not everyone even knows what they go up there for. But there are lights all the time, all the way to the top.

My brother goes up there. I noticed because he’s always been a pretty pathetic guy, but he stopped getting so easily winded. So I asked him directly, “Is that the assignment you’ve been on?” and he just didn’t say anything. He’s the worst liar I know, so he didn’t even try. Maybe one day I’ll see him again and get to ask him, “Hey, so what do they actually have you doing up there? I bet it’s really important?” And if I butter him up enough he might just tell me. It hurts a little bit that I can’t just have this conversation tomorrow, that it has to take place in an unspecified someday, but I’m trying to ignore it.

I don’t know if I’ve had enough to get drunk or what it will feel like when that happens or how much of this is adrenaline but I think that, when I concentrate, that I’m somehow getting quieter? Or the equivalent of that, but for the eyes—they’ve looked right past me several times now.

I read in a pirated pamphlet that other cultures have objects that grant humans powers. Like most of these readings, I could never tell if that was a common mythological motif or established fact—were spirits really more active outside the Spires?

I’m a lot closer to finding out than I have any right to be, because I’m planning on hopping a train. It’s my first time attempting such a thing because it’s not really the sort of thing you get to attempt twice. I’m told it’s best to get a car when it’s on an incline, when the click-click-click of its cog is slower and more regular than when it moves by current.

But I’ve scrambled to the top of a big old hill and I feel a bit of vertigo looking down at the pit the tracks cut into it. I start wondering things like how bad jail really is when I hear the whistle of the train approaching and then the click-click-click-click-click. Like an antique cogwork clock.

I remind myself that this is the sort of things daring teens do to impress their friends, wandering back a few days later with stories that their parents get desperate to sweep under the rug. And I know how easy it is to just tell stories but I deliberately ignore that. The reason I don’t know anyone personally who’s survived this is that Mom would never let me associate with that sort of person, and god forbid it happen to anyone from our family. But I’m not in that family anymore, I guess.

I take a long sip of wine on the top of the hill, where I’m quite exposed but also—I think—invisible. It just feels like I let the light go through me and the wind go through me—it’s cold, but I let it through—and I can’t even see my legs below me, through it didn’t do anything at all to stop them feeling wobbly.

But I jump anyway, because really, worst that happens is I do, and the world doesn’t exactly stop for that. I’m really—in the moment that I’m flying—I can’t say that I feel anything but wise, like I’ve learned some great lesson in moral and physical weightlessness.

I get the landing almost right except for banging my ankle on the corner, which brings me back to my own body pretty quick. I crawl my way through a hatch in the roof before the pain really kicks in, and when it does, all I can be is amazed. It’s what I deserve, so I wallow in it a bit before I look around and realize someone’s there.

She’s no doubt the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, in a transcendental way that leaves me more awestruck than attracted or envious, though I can admit to some combination of the three. She seems surprised that I see her at all, maybe because the inside of this car is otherwise completely dark.

“May I have some?” She asks me, holding up my bottle.

“Okay,” I say, before I’ve processed what she said. I can’t focus on anything but her face—her gray eyes seem sharp but soft, like nothing I’ve seen in the world. I get this distinct feeling that she shouldn’t exist.

She pulls out two polished silver wine cups, fills them, and holds one out to me. For some reason I’m not surprised the wine in the bottle doesn’t diminish.

“Can you do anything about the pain?” I ask, suspecting she is my first encounter with a spirit.

“If you drink, you might forget it.” She downs her whole cup in an instant.

I look down at mine, doubtfully. That sounds a lot like the scary stories I’ve assumed until now were exaggerations, but I drink anyway. I’m not at the stage of my life to refuse an offer like that. It’s warm in a different way from spicy food, and it settles like a weight on my brain. Not unpleasant.

Too late, I look right through my fingers and realize, “I don’t think this is normal wine.”

“What do you mean?”

I try to turn invisible in front of her, even checking in the reflection of the cup, but she seems unfazed.

“You can’t get a drink at all in this city,” she says, pouring both of us more.

“Well yeah,” I say stupidly, “it’s illegal.”

“It’s illegal in every part of the nation,” she says, “but you can still get a drink.”

I look backwards, to where I think the city is. “I’ll just have to believe you,” I admit.

“Aha.” She leans forward. I contemplate kissing her—I think that is the sort of thing you’re supposed to do while drunk—but it hasn’t rendered me quite stupid enough. “This is your first time.”

I nod, and bravely drain about half my cup.

“It’s going to be interesting.” Something about her smile causes me to hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t stop on my behalf,” she says, eyeing me until I take another sip. “I just mean it will be interesting.”

“More than usual?”

“Maybe. You’re right about it not being normal wine—where did you get it?”

Flustered, I set my cup down. “I don’t think I should be telling you that.”

“Good instinct,” she says. “And in general, my advice is to keep this to yourself. No one needs to know what you’re capable of.”

“What am I capable of?” I ask, though I know immediately I will get no response.

She transforms in front of me, shrinking down into a dull, dusty moth. And she leaves me with the silver cups and the bottle of wine. And I have nothing else to do, and a whole lot of things I would rather forget.

#writing #fiction #fantasy #and yes #gods #drugs #might be part of something more later #idk

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theminecraftbee · 3 years ago

Note

ok so for the egg disaster:

bdubs is the only hermit I know of who wasn’t super excited by the eggs right away, since his uses his old non-big eye skin. So now I’m imagining him being extremely creeped out by a mini version of himself with the wrong face and trying to pawn it off on someone else

"HEY! JEVIN! YOU! YOUR EGGS! THEY'RE DEFECTIVE!"

Bdubs marches towards Jevin. On his shoulder, a Bdubs stares menacingly. Throughout the rest of his cloak, several other mini hermits are clinging. They are also staring menacingly. Jevin's not sure what to make of it, but probably nothing good.

"Uh, hi," Jevin says.

"These weren't supposed to hatch! They were supposed to stay hidden! I want a refund!"

"Right. They were fake eggs. They shouldn't have hatched," Jevin says.

"Well they don't look fake to me!"

"Yes, that is the problem," Jevin says.

"Oh hey, you know stuff about builder's magic," Cleo says, and Jevin winces. Oh, please don't let it be... "You know how some of the other hermits can get about eggs, right? If they all started to treat them like they were real enough..."

"Well, that might be enough," Bdubs says. "You know how it is with that story stuff. It's all in how you sell it. Or sometimes, how other people buy it."

"I didn't want to sell it," Jevin despairs. "Believe it or not, I was not trying to tell the universe a story where we ended up swarmed by very small creatures, and all of my friends went insane."

"Well, you've done an awfully good job telling it!" Bdubs says crossly. "Why'd you have to go and make eggs, huh?"

"I didn't know people would get like that about them!"

"Why? Aren't you a mob?"

"Slimes reproduce asexually! I had no way to know!"

Bdubs is oddly quiet for a moment.

"Oh, that's very brave of you! I'm proud," Bdubs says, and Cleo cackles behind them, wheezing so hard it sounds like she's crying. "Hey! We shouldn't make fun of him! That was a very big thing for him to say!"

"I am so confused," Jevin admits.

"W- wrong definition, B- B- wheeze," Cleo stammers out before laughing harder.

"She's crazy," Bdubs says. "Anyway, you totally accidentally made the eggs believable enough to the other hermits that they became real. Sorry!"

"How on earth am I supposed to fix that?" Jevin despairs as Cleo only laughs harder behind him. He's going to stab her in a moment here.

"I don't know! I still deserve a refund, though," Bdubs says.

As one, the miniature hermits in Bdubs's cloak begin chanting: "Refund. Refund. Refund. Refund."

Jevin swallows. "Right. I'll get right on that. I don't have my diamonds on me, so - Cleo stop laughing - we've got to get going. We'll see you later?"

"Sure. AND I WANT MY DIAMOND BLOCK."

Jevin drags Cleo away, trying not to panic at the confirmation that he'd lost control. The problem, he thinks, with a story out of his control, is this: it's in the hands of everyone who keeps adding to it.

And they're hardly going to make it more normal, now are they?

#answered #the-emblematic #prompt ficlets #jevin's egg disaster #welcome aboard bdubs who does not have baby fever!#...welcome aboard some idea of what's going on!#oh dear.#fun fact about one of my hermitcraft headcanons: so if you tell a convincing enough story it becomes reality #unfortunately for jevin he has just learned it is possible to do this on /accident/#things are only gonna get More!#...also i've been SITTING on that joke let me tell you

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lemonyko0 · 2 years ago

Text

Want It All - jjk

there are only two types of people in the word: those who have it all, and those who want it all.

» genre: (mini) series, angst, smut, some fluff.

» description: high society, arrogant rich boy jjk meets strong-willed reader, and together they hatch a plan to have it all. enemies to lovers, fake dating au :P

» word count: 11k (... i know but HEAR ME OUT... i worked three days on this and not my school work so just give it a chance 😭)

Part 1 | Part 2

have you ever met someone that seemed to love the things they hate? it's as if they run on spite, constantly doing the opposite of what others tell them to do and crush every expectation and prediction put upon them.

for you, this was turning against your family's generationally toxic values and living how you wanted. and you made no effort in hiding your plans.

this came down to almost every detail. it didn't matter what anyone else thought of you, of course. you knew that. but you can't deny the power of not only crushing but exceeding people's expectations of you.

even when you were given scholarships for a great school, and became successful, you still wanted more. there was still something to prove, even when "having it all" (being smart, pretty, and practically guaranteed money and success) there was still a missing, undeniable, factor.

and that is when you met jeon jungkook.

god, did you hate, jeon jungkook.

being the type of person you were, also garnered a lot of hate. you always chalked it up to jealousy, or envy. all the same, it only fueled you more, and otherwise had no purpose. so therefore, you did not feel jealousy. (or so, before you met him).

your university was among the top in the country, and being one of the top ranked in your class meant you were granted opportunities others were not. it gave the up and coming (or simply privileged) people a way to make connections and "friends" (people deemed acceptable company) so dinners, party's, charity events, and balls were all accustomed to you.

during your last year of university, you decided to purchase an enchanting sequined, black dress that had caught your eye a few months earlier. it was perfect for the event, and a little out of budget, but you could work around it.

and boy, was it worth it.

"wow, it's like that dress was made for you, y/n." sooyung awes, equally as gorgeous when she's dolled up and in a red dress.

"i wish it was acceptable to wear stuff like this all the time, because you're right, this totally is made for me.

she laughs, "you should contact the designer, he'd be all over you."

you chuckle and wave her off after dressing and assembling your mini purse to match, you both are ready to head to the charity ball. dinner, service, and a free bar. doesn't get much better than that.

the night goes on the same as ever, having been attending this ceremony every year since your first year, and many people had the same story as you, in that sense.

which means all the faces become known, so seeing one as striking as him that you didn't know, only made him more alluring. especially considering he hadn't taken his gorgeous eyes off of you all night.

you wondered when he'd approach you. you gave him ample opportunity, even setting up a few perfect scenarios. the night was past it's peak and began to wind down when you found yourself seated alone at the open bar.

he slides into the stool beside you and orders himself a drink, and you another of whatever you're almost done with.

you raise your brows at him with a grin, "should've done that several hours ago.

your mean words don't cause him to turn away, instead he laughs, "forgive me, it took some courage."

you hum, "courage? i would think a man like you would have no problem approaching women."

the server hands us both our respective drinks and he swishes it around before sipping, "you've got me there."

you nod, intrigued by his honesty. "have i ever seen you before?"

his eyes widen the slightest bit at your question. you don't understand why, but it was a subtle change, you conclude you're overthinking him. men are simple creatures.

"i have surely never seen you before, because if i had, i would not have forgotten."

you smile, "charming." he bites at his lip, making the silver ring all the more noticeable as it shines against the light at the bar. "what's your name then?"

"jeon jungkook." he extends a hand.

you take his large hand into yours, extending the shake, "y/f/n."

he grins, and you can't deny the depths of his grin, both soft and so, so dark. "it's a pleasure to meet you."

and as all things happen, when one pent-up college student meets another in equal standing and frustration, it doesn't take you long at all to end up with an invitation to his place.

"your place?" you ask as he leads you outside the venue.

he nods, digging in his pockets to find his keys, "yeah.”

as you predicted, his daddy most definitely did have money. he led you to a very nice apartment complex. fitting for someone his age, but still opulent enough to not sacrifice the luxurious things he likely grew up with.

and clearly, patience was not one of the things he was taught at a young age. had it not been for your request of a surface softer than the front door, you think he would have taken you right then and there.

his body is heavy pressed against yours, easily clouding your thoughts when his lips are on your neck and his thigh presses between your legs.

you give as much as you take, reaching down to feel him through his pants and he rewards you with a groan. you undo his belt and he kicks his pants off. he only detaches himself from you once, to strip his top half and instructing you to turn around so he can unzip your dress.

he's quick to trap you between him and the door again and you struggle to detach yourself from him long enough to whimper out a request.

finally the mention of his name has him stopping long enough for you to ask, "mind if we take this somewhere a little softer?"

he grins, "anywhere you'd like gorgeous."

he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom, sitting on his bed first before leading you into his lap to continue to kiss you feverishly.

your hands become entangled in his dark locks and his hands grip your ass, moving you ever so slowly back and forth against him as he kisses you.

you pull away, hoping to get this moving a little quicker and disconnect your lips and tip his head back to attach your lips to his neck. he moans at a sensitive spot beneath his ear, and another above his collarbone.

he curses and flips you both over, making quick work of your bra as he pulls it off from beneath you and tosses it away. he groans and grips your chest as if it was his first time seeing such a thing.

he worshiped you as if you were his first and last, although by the way he worked your body it was clear you would be neither of those things.

he trailed his mouth down from your chest to your pelvis, peeling your lace underwear off as he went. "mind if i have a taste?"

he asks as if you'd stop him now.

"absolutely."

he chuckles almost arrogantly. and you hoped he was as good as he pretended to be. as soon as he put his tongue on you, that truth became evident.

he had you mewling beneath him. practically dragging your hips against him to beg for more, as if he wasn't already giving you everything he had. he absolutely relished in the sight of you coming just from his tongue.

you curse and he makes his way back up to you, "still up for more?" he asks with a cocky grin.

your chest is still rising and falling as you admire the way he stares at you. "i'd be awful not to reward you after that."

he smiles, "i was hoping you'd say that."

you grin and run your hand up along his thigh, "so what'll it be, jungkook?"

his words are vulgar but they come out soft, dripping in power. "can't help but picture what you'd look like bouncing on my cock." who are you to deny such a request?

with your approval he situates himself against his headboard and holds you as you position yourself above him. his breathing slows and he looks at you determined, as if he had this planned from the beginning.

you're glad he was kind enough to get you off first, because you're certain now as he fills you up that you would've been a goner otherwise. you hadn't really paid close attention to what he was packing until you felt him inside of you. he was a stretch to say the least, and from his position he hit all the spots he needed to. you're almost sure he would in any position, and you were up to test that too. "god, jungkook, you're big.

what you anticipate is a cocky comment from him but he's just as in awe as you are when he cusses, "god, you feel phenomenal."

you grin at his choice of words and begin to lift your hips up and down. you watch him closely, having pegged him for an ass guy early on has you rethinking the way you'd drawn him up in your head as he ogles at your chest. his eyes stutter between that, and the part where your bodies connect. one of his large hands grabs at your ass and the other helps you keep pace against your hip.

"fuck, more, please." he requests and you oblige as much as you can, but the issue with giving more is you tire quicker.

he seems unfazed, tilting his head back and letting his sounds reverberate in his bedroom. you do the same, no room for shyness when you're both being so open about the pleasure. he cusses and grips your hips tighter, "can we switch it up?" you nod, and he smiles. "head down, ass up."

you almost moan at the mention of it. he matches your excitement with eagerness, not wasting any time as he slides back in and builds up to the pace you were at before, then beyond.

he grips tightly on your hips, pulling you back with him with every thrust. the harshness of it in perfect unison of your impending highs. he's close and you can tell.

"fuck y/n, are you close?"

you nod and whine out a yes. he groans and snakes one of his arms around your front and circles your clit. "wanna see you cum around my cock." he breaths, "can you do that for me gorgeous?"

you're plenty past the point of letting him control you, letting him fuck you senselessly into the mattress when you struggle to moan out a response. he just chuckles and continues to play with you until your orgasm comes crashing down and you both moan in unison. he fucks you through it and stills soon after.

you turn over onto your back and let your eyes flutter shut. not concerned with what he was doing, although you were sure that was when he discarded of the condom he filled and slipped his boxers back on after cleaning himself up.

you awaited further instruction for what comes next. guys are different, you don't assume you can stay until you're explicitly told. you assume you're not when he doesn't join you in bed again. instead you ask to use his restroom and he points to the door across from the bed.

when you come back out you begin the search for your clothes. he's sitting on his bed, clearing his notifications it seemed. he looks up at you while you're scavenging the floor, "you should stay, it's pretty late."

you shrug, sliding your bra back on, "it's fine, i'll catch an uber."

he crawls over to you and slips off the bed, standing in front of you and looking deeply into your eyes. you feel one of his hands ghost your jaw before he places another kiss against your lips.

this was something you deemed out of character, but it definitely helped him create an offer you couldn't refuse. "come on, i'm a great cuddler and i'll even make breakfast."

you're not usually a fan of staying, unless you're too drunk and it's too late to be safe, so when you agree to his offer you surprise yourself.

and it turns into one of your biggest regrets when you wake up the next morning.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck"

you curse, practically rampaging through jungkook's room as soon as you wake up. it was serene for perhaps a minute. your mind caught up with you, and you quickly realized you woke up on your own accord and not according to your alarm.

you looked around frantically for a clock or phone of sorts. and the panic that set in once you read the digital alarm clock on his bedside table would have any doctor believe your heart was actually in the pits of your stomach.

"no fucking way. this can't be happening right now."

a trick to maintaining a healthy social life to academic life balance is setting your alarms before you go out. so no matter what happens, you always have time.

except this time, your phone wasn't in your purse. in fact, it wasn't in his bedroom at all. jungkook opens his bedroom door to find you dressing as quickly as you could, prepared to find a car or even race to your interview in the same dress and heels if you had to.

"someone looks panicked, what's got you in such a hurry?"

"fuck! where is my phone?!" he laughs and you are not amused in the slightest as he casually leans against the doorframe with an absolutely shit-eating grin. "seriously jungkook i really need to go, help me out?"

he shrugs and doesn't move an inch. i shove past him in an angry mumble, "men are so unhelpful."

he scoffs, "you certainly didn't hold that opinion last night."

you roll your eyes, "seriously jungkook, do you know where it is or if i had it?" he ticks his head towards the couch. "right there."

you frown, "how the hell did it get there?" he grins, "that alarm was awfully annoying. do you normally do that after hooking up with people? what a terrible way to wake up, you don't get a lot of call backs do you-"

"you heard my alarm? and you didn't wake me up?!" you stare at him in disbelief.

he chuckles, "you are fun to play with y/n, but i'm not a huge sadist so in the favor of not prolonging this, allow me to fill you in."

he pulls a chair from the table beside him and straddles it, crossing his muscular arms on top and over the back of it as he looks at you darkly. "you must be aware of the list of candidates mr. kim chooses for his internship." you nod, not even concerned how he knew about the internship interview you missed this morning or what this had to do with him, "it's a short list, and he doesn't only choose from the school he teaches at. he just wants the best of the best."

you nod and scoff, "yeah i already know all of this, the point, please?"

he chuckles, clearly annoyed, "well the list turned out to be awfully hard to get my hands on, but even harder to decipher who the candidates were when he only wrote the students code and their university on the forms. all i knew was he had us all ranked, and someone from your university was in the number one spot, and not me."

my thoughts race, in all my years studying here i had not been immune to my fair share of dirty and underhanded tricks to reach my goals, but nothing compares to what he was describing. he continues still, "i asked everywhere, you hadn't seemed to tell a damn person you were chosen for the opportunity, let alone the best shot at winning." he ticks his head at me, "that was until i came across sooyung. she spotted me at the cafe and didn't waste a second. she's quite the talker, you know?"

you shake your head speechlessly, "you seriously went to all of these lengths just to be sure i missed that interview?"

he just smiles proudly, and you laugh, "how insecure of you, actually. i should thank you." you walk towards him on the chair, confused and dissident as you wrap yourself around him before bending down to his level, "you had a lot of praise for me last night, but the notion that you couldn't beat me on your own merit, knowledge, and skill has to be the largest one of all."

he does not like that. he angrily bites the corner of his mouth and offendedly laughs,

"say what you want, theres no way he'll give you that spot now."

you walk away from him with a shrug, collecting your things, "that may be, but i wouldn't say it's sured. i do hope for your sake though jungkook," you open his door and turn back around to look him in the eyes, "that this is the last time you see me."

that was everything that happened when you first met jungkook. all in less than 24 hours.

much to your demise, he had successfully blocked you from claiming that summer intern position with mr. kim, and managed to somehow convince him that he was the right choice.

you decided begging or bargaining for that spot was beneath you, although mr. kim did recommend you to another agency.

"this wasn't on the list of options they handed out at the beginning of the semester." you question, looking over the application he had just handed you.

he doesn't look up from his desk, "i know, because they don't usually hire students."

you chuckle even though it's not amusing, "then why are you telling me to apply there? do you think i need more disappointment?"

he chuckles at that, "no, not at all. i wouldn't recommend this if i didn't think you had a chance." he looks up at me, "let's just say, i heard through the grapevine that they were debating, allowing students to intern. if they'd make an exception for anyone, i think it'd be you."

you nod, and he adds, "and it's not like you have much other options, unless you want a less reputable company."

you shake your head quickly, "being accepted here would be insane for my resume." he nods and with that you part him with a thanks.

as if lady luck herself pities you, or perhaps by the grace of god himself, you find yourself getting a call on a Tuesday morning regarding your unprompted submission to intern at one of the country's largest and most reputable companies.

you were half expecting to be let down, and the other half was excepting to be berated for such an inappropriate action.

you were not expecting to be told you were expected at headquarters for a meeting with the current director over further plans.

and it went swimmingly.

some people just click, and for once you are more than glad, elated, even, that this man seemed to take quite a liking to your work and ambition, all made clear not only through your resume and portfolio submitted but by your very presence.

he leaned over to speak quietly, "you know, we don't take on students." your heart began to break a little, "but we've always entertained the idea. it surely has its benefits. not to mention, first grabs on the newest, and best talent."

you light up at his words, "of course i think it's a fantastic idea, but i am also biased."

he laughs and nods, "yes, well, of course. i'm unsure what exactly we'd have you do, but i don't doubt you'd be willing to do whatever we asked of you."

you nod, "correct." you don't care if its running errands, secretary work, writing, or even handing pens out, you would do it.

he purses his lips, "and we'll base your pay off of what we have you do. we'll reach that conclusion at about week 4. does this all sound agreeable to you?"

you nod quickly, "yes of course, i understand."

he grins widely, it was almost familiar, and stands with his hand extended out to you.

"i’ll have our lawyers draw up a contract for you, your term ends on the 29th correct?"

you shake his hand with a large smile, "yes, it does."

he nods, "perfect then, we'll be in touch. glad to have you, y/n."

working at mr. lee's company exceeded your expectations. you began to understand why this was everyone's top pick, and why they were never hiring.

your life had continued to follow the path you worked so hard to ensure. you responded to mr. lee (or his secretary, when he was too busy) for your task sheet every week and they even began to accept you as another coworker. even mr. lee took kindly to you, so much as to invite you to the company's charity event.

you spent most of your time there learning more about your coworkers, even meeting some of their partners or family.

mr. lee seemed very glad to see you and noticed you immediately while making his rounds. "ah y/n! i was really hoping you'd make it."

you laugh and bow to him, "of course, how could i not come? it's a fantastic event mr. lee, thank you for having me."

he shakes his head, "nonsense. you belong here." he doesn't seem to understand the weight of his words, and they fill you with hope. ever so carefully entertaining the idea that this could be your future. "i may have invited you for selfish reasons as well, y/n."

you look at him, both worried and confused, and he laughs, holding his gut, "oh heavens! not for me." he laughs heartily, "i-i have a son, i would really love you to meet."

the panic falls from your face and you laugh with him, "oh! gosh, of course. i'd be delighted."

he grins widely, "well then, let me introduce you to my family."

your heart pounds with excitement as you follow his lead around the decorated room and to a nearby table. "y/n, this is my wife."

you smile and introduce yourself to her, gosh she's gorgeous. if he has half the looks his mother does, you're sold.

"nice to meet you y/n! how are you enjoying the party?" she asks before gesturing to sit at the seat in front of her.

"it's fantastic! i especially love how the centerpieces are the colors of the foundation you're honoring tonight." you comment, having done your research last night.

her eyes glow in admiration, "yes!" she gawks, touching your hand for a moment,

"you are just as intelligent as my husband said you were." she grins and leans forward,

"and you seem to be just his son's type, but don't tell him i told you that." you both laugh,

"he gets embarrassed so easily." she covers her laugh, "there was this one time where he-"

"i would rather you not tell this story again, please." a figure from behind you speaks, placing a drink in front of her and another on the table beside you as he sits down.

and when you lock eyes, a million things all at once rush to your head.

jeon jungkook, again.

"jungkook."

he looks equally bewildered, "y/n?" you don't respond, still too much in shocked anger and fumbling to find the correct gameplay. "what are you doing here?" he asks.

his mother scoffs and reaches over to slap his arm, "jeon jungkook, be kind. this was the girl your father wanted you to meet, y/n, this is my son!"

your eyes race between her and jungkook. how could you not have noticed? he is literally the spitting image of his mother. it was right in front of you.

"yeah, we've met." he tells her. you raise an eyebrow, not anticipating that he would admit that, knowing what door it would open.

"oh, really? all the better!" she rises from her seat and walks over to jungkook, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning down to tell him, "your father picked this one, perhaps take it seriously, and he may actually begin to take you, seriously."

her words sound loving and sweet, but the meaning was much deeper and darker in insinuation than on surface level. jungkook looks troubled but doesn't reply. "alright! well, have fun you two!" she places a hand on your shoulder as she walks past me and into the crowd to socialize beside her husband.

jungkook is silent. you find it extremely amusing. you cross your arms and look at him with the cocky grin he was sporting the last time you saw him.

he avoids your stare until it becomes unavoidable and uncomfortable. you wait for him to speak up. he scoffs and shakes his head, "what's with the grin? shouldn't you be begging right about now?"

you furrow your brows, "why on earth would i be begging?"

he chuckles, "i could tell my dad how we met. he doesn't exactly approve of my lifestyle. says i'm spoiled and lack a clear ambition all because i enjoy the money he gives me, and women." he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "if he knew you were anything like me, i doubt you'd remain in the current high regards he holds for you."

you laugh, "from the sounds of it, you're in no position to make such a gamble with your father." he looks at you testingly, and you match his stance by resting your elbows on your knees, but let your chin rest in your hands as you stare at him. "sounds like you need to appease your father. I'll be sure to tell him how you took advantage of me in a vulnerable stage, after breaking up with my boyfriend, and never spoke to me afterwards. maybe even include why you sought me out in the first place-"

"wait, what are you talking about? that first part isn't true at all-"

"oh, but isn't it?" you ask, your expression going from innocent confusion to a grin,

"because that's how i'll tell it. and i'll have you know, my acting skills are quite great." you render him silent, "who would he believe, jungkook?"

he lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against his seat. he toys with his fingers and checks the time on his watch, before pursing his lips and looking at you. "okay."

"okay?"

he nods, "okay." he picks up his chair and scoots it close enough our knees are touching. "what will it take for you to not do that."

you chuckle once, and then several more times, "oh gosh jungkook. i almost forgot how funny you were." he is not amused in the slightest. "i'm a woman of my word. what i say and what i live by is law, that's what's gotten me this far. not, people like you, who are simply handed it."

"i’m clearly not being handed it, that's the whole fucking issue." he grumbles.

you hum, "so thats it?" you giggle, "he hasn't agreed to let you take over, has he?" he shakes his head, you've clearly hit a nerve, "oh boy i knew he was smart, but this is, wow-”

"would you please stop with your pretentious babbling and get to it?"

you pout, "you're absolutely no fun jungkook."

he crosses his arms across his chest, "i just want to know as soon as possible if you plan on throwing more fuel under the fire that is my future burning away, so i can at least run collateral. or, by your own graces, what you'd like in exchange to not, do that."

you simply smile to him, "i told you jungkook, if you ever met me again you'd live to regret it."

he nods, "yes i do recall your threatening spiel as you left my house."

you shrug, "perfect. so you'll understand how kind i am about to be." his eyes move from the floor to meet yours. "the idea of negotiating with you sounds horrendous, and there are very few things i'd put above watching you wither from something i caused.”

"but…”

"but, there is one thing i can think of, you may actually be useful for." he nods, "yeah, which is?"

your head falls to the side, letting your hand reach out to his on the table as you run your fingers against his, "i want a guaranteed spot at this company." his eyes follow your fingers, "and you want to someday run it."

he nods slowly, still entranced. "so here's my plan, now, it's still a rough draft with little thought, but this is what i think could work: we date for a while. Unsure how long, but long enough to make sure your father likes us both, and when we deem it enough, we break up mutually on good terms."

he sits stilled, his eyes meeting mine after a few moments, "that sounds great, but i think you've left something unaccounted for."

"and that is?"

he grins, "that i, will be working there, even running it, at some point. are you really comfortable with working there and loathing your boss?"

you laugh, "if it comes to that point, which even with my genius plan, is still an if, I'll decide if i can stay, or we'll agree on where to transfer or recommend me. does this sound acceptable to you?"

he stirs in his seat for a moment, then picks up your hand, as if to shake it but he simply holds it, "i accept it."

you nod, "how about we discuss further plans on our first date? where do you want to go?"

he hums, "letting me pick?" you nod. "well, fighting the urge to say i'd like to do what we did when we first met," you scoff, "i guess i'll settle on dinner?"

you agree, "okay, dinner it is. friday?"

"that works.”

"great!" you stand from your seat, "dinner, on you"

he purses his lips and nods, "figures." you turn to walk away and he stops you, latching onto your wrist, "wait."

you simply look down at him, and he says,

"need your number, gorgeous." you shake your head, grabbing his phone from his hand and typing in your information before handing it back to him. "y/n with a heart?" he chuckles, "that's not something i would write in."

you shrug, "if you want to convince your parents it's real, you can't treat me like every other girl you've fucked around with."

he nods, seemingly understanding the depths of what i'm telling him, "i guess so.”

"yes, exactly. now, i'll grab drinks for both of us and tell your parents how much i like you already, what do you want?"

your date with jungkook was as exhausting as you’d anticipated it would be. It was a free meal though, and with an extremely attractive man, so you couldn't wholeheartedly complain. There was definitely worse ways to spend your friday night.

“so i get my family and your coworkers and such have to believe this, but it's alright to tell our friends, yeah?”

you’re slouched and swishing the wine around in your glass as you hum, “mhm. i’d think of it this way, only tell who you absolutely have to tell. for me? that'll only be sooyung. everyone else around me, friends or not, will think i am dating you.”

he nods, “so you're only telling your closest friend, and everyone else is off-limits from the truth? don't you think that's a bit much? i mean, that's going to completely tank our actual dating lives.”

you shake your head, not caring to look him in the eyes as you speak, “the people around us all have connections to something or someone. the last thing we need is someone finding out and either telling your parents, or blackmailing us. it's the safest way to ensure nothing goes wrong.” he chews on his food and indicates he understands and you interject, “and about your last comment, frankly i wouldn't be that concerned for your dating life if your parents were literally setting you up with women.”

he scowls, “that has nothing to do with what i was talking about.”

you nod and smile, “oh! you mean, how will this affect your sex life?” you laugh, “silly me, i thought by “dating lives” you meant actual, meaningful, relationships.”

he scoffs, “whatever you call it, i may not be labeled ‘boyfriend material' by many women, but the last thing i want to be labeled as is a cheater, fake relationship or not.”

you’re surprised by his statement. “why? it's not like it would really ruin your chances of future relationships. you'd be surprised what women are willing to forget for a mildly hot guy with money.”

“that's only half of the concern. i just, don't want to be that guy.”

you shrug, not really understanding what he's trying to say and not caring much to decipher his odd morals. “okay, so you don't want to see or sleep with other people, is that right?”

he opens his mouth then closes it, before sighing, “i guess that's how it has to be.”

you think it over, it makes sense. being with other people would increase the number of people you'd have to tell your secret to. or if you don't explain, you’d have to face their judgment. “that sounds good to me.”

he looks up, mildly surprised, “you’re agreeing?” he shakes his head, “i wasn't asking you to do that. i was just telling you i wasn't going to-”

“no need, it's actually kind of smart of you. not that you were trying to be, but if we don't see other people it makes it plenty more believable.”

he shakes his head, “you're really committed to this, you know.”

you grin at him, “this is how i normally am. your dad knows this too, even said he hopes some of my drive and ambition rubs off on you.”

he chuckles, “he did not say that.”

you continue to bicker with each other for most of the remainder of the date, even debating who had the better music taste when jungkook didn't offer you the aux cord in his car.

despite all of it, you found yourself feeling rather content once you stepped inside your building. you weren't annoyed, stressed, nor angry.

you found yourself falling asleep imagining the future you were so committed to building for yourself. there are worst things i could do.

you and jungkook plan every date strategically, and they all unfold without a hinge. on your third date, you went strolling downtown. you grabbed hot chocolate and window shopped, admiring the hard work these people have put into the things they're so passionate about. jungkook wasn't interested in things like this. you knew that, but you also knew fall was coming quickly and your wardrobe needed some updating.

“that's ugly.” he comments, walking past you in the store.

you huff, re-folding the sweater and placing it down on the table before turning to face him, “when did i ask for your opinion on women's clothing?” you laugh, “not to mention, your wardrobe has all of maybe 2 colors, so any advice you give is unwarranted.”

he’s leaning against a different display table with his arms crossed over his wide chest, “if i have to be seen with you in public, it won't be in clothes that you don't look good in. that's all im saying.” he puts his hands up in surrender and continues walking through the store.

“okay then,” you follow behind him, “if you're such a fashionnova, pick out an outfit for me.”

he furrows his brows, “why would i do that.”

“if how i look is such a big deal to you, you shouldn't have a problem picking out an outfit for me.”

“no.”

“then stop talking!”

“ok.” he shrugs and wanders off. you figured he wanted to pout alone so you let him be, picking out a few new items and heading towards the check out.

with a bag in your hand you turn to see jungkook looking out the shop windows. “see a pretty girl?”

he furrows his brows and shakes his head. he does not match your amusement, and actually stays completely silent and solemn.

he takes your hand and leads you out of the store. the form of affection takes you by surprise for a second, but you already discussed ‘acting’ like a couple and told yourself this was just another part of the deal.

“where are you leading me?”

silence. “jungkook?” nothing. you sigh, “you're walking kinda fast can you slow down please?”

he leads you into a brewery on the corner of the street. this was ‘the spot’ on that road and you knew that, hence why you were saving it for last. “jungkook,” you whine, “you knew i wanted to go here last-”

“would you please stop bitching for a second?” he tells you, looking around the special liquor store with an indoor/outdoor bar.

“what are you looking for? do you want something?”

he drops your hand and looks at you, “first of all, i stopped talking because you told me to shut up.” you roll your eyes at his immaturity. “and second of all, i dragged you out of their because that guy in the brown coat?” he points to a guy at the end of the bar, helping what looks to be his date or girlfriend take a seat. “that’s kim taehyung. his dad is a major shareholder and on the board.”

you hum, “so you dragged me here for him?”

he looks at you confused, “did you… forget we’re literally dating to make good impressions on people like him?”

“well not him, per-say-”

“and he’s aiming to take over his father as well, just like me. last time i talked to him, he and his dad invited me to some tennis game but i totally forgot about it and haven't made a fantastic impression since.”

“did you ever apologize?”

he shakes his head, “no, i figured if i didn't then they might think i just forgot.”

“you did-”

“i forgot as in partying was more important.” he tells me. that makes more sense. “but that doesn't matter! because you and i are about to blow him away.”

jungkook grabs you by the waist and leads you around the store, “let's see how good your acting skills are.” he grins.

you smile as well, amused at the situation and you lean into him, “you as well.”

you walk around the store exactly like that until you’re close enough that taehyung notices you. he calls out to jungkook, who pretends to be surprised when he sees the both of them and greets them.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n.” you and taehyung shake hands and he looks to jungkook almost surprised.

“girlfriend? really?”

he nods, “i am just as surprised as you are.”

taehyung just grins widely, “it had to happen one of these days.” he looks to you, “goodluck to you.” you hold back a laugh, he doesn't have a clue.

taehyung then apologizes for not being able to invite you both to join him, “this date should be for us two, but we should totally do a double sometime!”

you’re weary of the offer and it shows on your face as you look to jungkook but he doesn't pay attention to you as he excitedly agrees. “do you still have my number?”

he nods, “i think, but last time i texted you you never replied so maybe i have the wrong one.”

jungkook chuckles and scratches the back of his neck, “yeah that sounds like me, how about you give me your number.”

they agree and exchange. this entire time you notice his date’s been staring at you so you finally look over to notice. you began to smile, hoping to have a small but pleasant interaction but she continues to stare hard and your smile drops when you recognize her.

not that you had any personal issue with her (yet) but this girl was as bad as they come. bad in your opinion, that was. you knew her because of what she did to sooyung, your best friend. minji was similar to jungkook, just minus the genuine charisma and kindness if you really looked. she had all those things sure but it was surface level and fake. whatever minji couldn't have she took. this included school, personal, and business life (cheating, swapping tests, buying and/or sleeping her way), anything besides actually working. her family was rich and you believed she never struggled to have anything. that was until her boyfriend broke up with her and found sooyung. to say that caused issues would be an understatement.

it's good to know she's moved on now, despite going to the lengths she did to break them up. you almost laugh at it all. why go through all that trouble just to break up with him again? you concluded it was a childish power move and never spent another second thinking of the pitiful girl.

until now. you also knew minji hated you for meddling in her and sooyung’s beef, but otherwise had no reason to dislike you.

so why she was ass-eyeing you right now? you're unsure.

the boys say goodbye and share a quick hug before jungkook is pulling you away from the scene.

“you are free next saturday right?” he asks.

“huh? what?” you ask, plenty out of earshot but still in the store where they could see you. “yeah, saturday works. what are we doing?”

he laughs, “were you even listening?” you shake your head, “taehyung invited us to go bowling.”

“bowling?”

“yeah.” he grins, checking out the liquor that lines the wall of the store, “i'll have you know i'm actually really good at it, otherwise i would've suggested something else.” he looks over, as if examining the couple, then turns to you and places a kiss on your head. out of habit you widen your eyes and fight the urge to hit him, “god y/n, they’re looking and you just ruined it.”

“you can’t just jumpscare me like that, god.” you grumble.

he sighs, “just kiss me.”

you sneak a glance at the couple and they’re looking lovingly at each other, “why? they’re not even looking over here.”

“just do it, and make it good to make up for what you did.” he says, determined. you decide to follow along with his request, he’s known what to do up until now, you have no reason to question him. you smile up at him as if he’s just given you the greatest compliment in the world and wrap both of your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.

you keep smiling even when you pull away, despite the slight hatred you still feel for him. he looks at you speechlessly, “smile, jungkook.” you grit. he nods and takes your advice.

“of course, yeah.”

you raise your brows and chuckle, continuing your admiration of the alcohol you know you can’t afford, “i know i’m a good kisser but you don’t have to stand there in awe.”

he looks at you offended and you laugh again. “yeah, sure.”

you continue looking around the store and can’t shake the feeling of someones eyes on you. you look to jungkook who’s occupied examining something else, and then to the couple at the other end of the store. sure enough, minji was still staring.

“that girl makes me uneasy.”

he looks at you with furrowed brows, “who? minji? i wouldn’t worry about her.”

“you know minji?”

he pauses, letting the arm that was reaching for a bottle fall to his side but he doesn't look at you. “i dated her for a few weeks. don't even think it was a month.”

you feel surprised but you really shouldn't be. “how long ago?”

he looks at you annoyed, “like a year ago, it's not that big of a deal. to say i dated her would be a loose term. maybe took her on two dates. we really only did one thing and then got bored.”

you connect the dots without him having to really say it. “she’s been staring daggers at me since we walked in here. and she’s got issues with sooyung, and now with you, she could be a problem, jungkook.”

he shrugs, taking a bottle he picked and examining it, “i really wouldn't worry about her. if she’s with taehyung she's got enough on her hands.” he says. “you ever had honey whiskey?”

“no, jungkook.” you sigh. upset he doesn't seem to care about the present issue.

he grins, “perfect. you want anything?”

you hum and look around. “the cherry one looked interesting.”

he spins around to find the one you’re talking about and grins, “cherry tequila? knew i pegged you right.”

you chuckle, “what are you talking about.”

he shrugs and grins with a cocky smile, “nothing, just knew you were a tequila person. it was obvious.”

“you're talking nonsense.”

“am i wrong? is that not your preferred alcohol?”

“and yours is whiskey i presume?”

he grins, “oh, i'm an everything man.”

you act sarcastically, “oh of course! i should have known.”

“but you didn't! that's how you know i know and you don't.”

he continues to babble as he pays and walks out of the store. “what exactly are you going to do with that? just add it to your little collection?”

he looks down at you for a moment, “drink it, obviously.” you follow him just as confused as before. “did you know i'm actually pretty good at making drinks?”

you hum, “no i guess not, but that wouldn't surprise me.”

“it's not hard to do but it does take some level of commitment, it's actually the perfect practice for someone like me.”

“whatever your hobbies are.” you chuckle.

he scoffs, “yeah? what are your hobbies? studying and being a bitch?”

you laugh, “yeah, actually. but also art and video games.”

he looks at you in a way you couldn't describe. “no shit?” you nod. “perfect then. you didn't have any plans for the rest of the night did you?”

you frown, “i mean i needed to study but-”

“studying waits, i have a better idea.” he looks at you excited and puts the bags you both bought in the backseat of his car, “me vs you video game tournament. you can pick the games, and i’ll supply the drinks.”

“i pick the games? don't you think that's a little unfair?”

he shakes his head, “absolutely not, you'll lose even if you picked terraria.”

“how would terraria-”

“you’d lose.”

jungkook was correct, no matter what you'd pick he would win. and it really fucking annoyed you.

“god is this what you've spent your life doing?”

he laughs, shoving popcorn in his mouth by the handful, “yeah.”

you shake your head, beyond annoyed. you were definitely a sore loser. “no wonder.”

he looks at you and grins, “what? sad that you suck? it's okay y/n you can't be good at everything.” he fakes a sympathetic pout and leans in close to you, “i told you i would win.”

by this point in the day, it’s about 8pm and jungkook has served you six different drinks. not that you finished all of them, but you’ve been served roughly that many. on top of all the ones he made for himself that he insisted you try.

you’re both sat in his living room with a controller in your hands and a drink in his. he stops whatever mocking sentence he was beginning to say to instead look at you with a smirk, “you’re blushing.”

you scowl, “my face turns red when i drink sometimes.”

he shakes his head, “your face wasn’t red until i scooted closer to you.” he leans in further and you try to back away, “you want me to kiss you y/n?” he smirks and you push his chest back.

“that is not why i’m red jungkook, get away from me.”

he sits back where he was before, albeit still much closer in proximity. “you’re lying to yourself. i get it, being as attractive as i am and us not being able to see other people.” he looks to you, “it’s bound to happen at some point.”

you shake your head, “maybe you feel that way, but i don’t need constant attention and entertainment.”

he scowls, “i do not.”

you laugh, “clearly, you do. It’s only been three weeks jungkook.”

“four.” he corrects.

you stare at him confused, “we’ve been ‘dating’ for three.” you put air quotes around the word ‘dating’.

he shakes his head, “no, like, four weeks since i’ve seen a woman other than you.”

you nod, “ah, must really be killing you.”

he sighs, “yeah, really must be hard on me if i just hit on you.”

you frown, “yeah, like you’re not attracted to me.”

he eyes you, “i make no comment on that.”

you laugh, “you don’t have to say it for me to know its true.” he scowls at you but you don’t allow him to continue the bickering. “okay, i should head home.”

he continues sitting on his couch, “its hardly even 9.”

you slip your shoes and jacket on, “yeah? i told you i had to study.” he whines childishly, “fine, whatever, be lame.”

you grin, “awe, miss me already?”

he looks at you then back towards the tv, “you’re really not as amusing as you think you are.”

“you clearly find me interesting enough to ask me to hang out when it's unrelated to our plan.”

he teases, “because you’re easy, what were you going to do? say no?”

jungkook clearly finds this amusing but you realize not only did that last comment hurt, but it was also obvious he had no idea how petty it was.

“okay then, if that’s how you see me.” you grab your stuff and open the door when he shouts out at you.

“god, wait up.” he groans, lifting himself off the couch. you tell him not to bother with taking you home. “what? why?” you try to close the door after telling him bye but he’s as stubborn as ever, “don’t close my own door on me, what's your problem?”

you sigh and just begin to walk away from his apartment, still chasing after you, being a dick. “seriously y/n, let me take you home.” he grabs onto your arm and you’re ready to punch him. jungkook pisses you off in many ways and has wronged you. for the benefit of you both, you looked past it all. in order for this plan to really work, jungkook still had to change. you knew he was a flawed man, but you didn’t think he would be this ignorant and immature.

“stop following me creep!”

he takes a step back and looks at you like you cussed him out in a different language, “what the hell are you talking about.”

“i said i was leaving, you clearly pissed me off, now you’re chasing after me? seriously jungkook get a fucking clue and leave me alone!”

he scoffs, “what am i supposed to do? just leave you to roam around at night because you can’t take a joke?”

“yes! i’m not your problem.”

“you literally are my problem.”

you look at him confused, then chuckle, “no, as it happens you are my problem. you are also your own problem. hilarious isn't it?” he begins to tell you off but your patience for his bs has thinned, “what’s even more funny jungkook? is that you know your flaws and have done absolutely nothing to work past them. you could have anything in the world, it’s all practically handed to you! all you’d have to do is put the slightest effort in to impress your dad and it's yours!” you’ve effectively silenced him as he stands before you, “and yet you still pick a route of mistrust and manipulation. i’m doing this because i have to, you're doing this because it's easier than genuinely trying."

you have so much more to say about him. he’s once never apologized for what he did to you and how he’s treated you in the past, and all the passive-aggressive taunts and jokes in between. and you never asked him to. because you knew he wouldn’t be sorry. that was just the way he was. and it sickened you to know this. you figured you could look past it, because he has some redeeming qualities, and in order for this to work you had to find them. trying to pretend to date someone you truly couldn’t stand wouldn’t work well for you, so you really did try. and yet, he continued to disappoint you with his entitlement and arrogance.

“you still think of me like that?” he chuckles, “you sound like you can’t even stand me, so why come up with this stupid plan?!” you open your mouth and he interrupts you, “you’re stupid too, you know. not only do you totally not have to do this to have a successful career, you also can’t see how hypocritical you are.”

you scoff, “don’t act like i’ve done things as desperate and terrible as you have.”

he laughs, “you haven’t? really? miss ‘will stop at nothing to get what i want’? i don’t believe you for a fucking second, y/n.”

“well i haven’t! this,” you say, pointing between the two of you, “this the worst thing i’ve ever done.”

he shakes his head, “you're a hypocrite either way. if this is the worst you've done then you clearly haven’t done everything in your power, yeah? nothing but a pretentious wannabe.”

your face is bright red and your body is aching as if you’re going to cry. you knew that was the last thing you wanted to do in front of jungkook. “just fuck-off jungkook. you clearly will never understand how you could be in the wrong, let alone apologize and be a better person. god help the miserable woman that actually falls in love with you.”

he bites his lip ring, “bet you still wish it was you, for real.”

you stare at him dumbfounded, “you really are just an ass and nothing more. what a miserable life.” he tries to talk back, no doubt something even meaner than what he’s already said, “goodbye, jungkook.” you walk away from him, only getting a few steps before shouting out, hoping he could still hear you, “can’t wait to tell your dad about this.”

weeks past and you neither heard of nor saw anything from jungkook. in the beginning, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. not like that, you tell yourself. anyone who had just been through what you had would also obsessively think over it for at least a few weeks. it wasn’t all bad though, no more jungkook meant no more plan, which also meant all the time in the world to focus on preparing for your last year in school and your new internship. which would all be good! had it not been for your obvious avoidance of your boss.

you were terrified of talking to him above all else. you were stuck in this stand-off with jungkook, and his dad, in the middle of it all. you couldn’t be sure what jungkook had told him, if anything, and if he hadn’t, you didn’t know if you were still ‘together’ or not. you simply didn’t have the answers and you were sure as hell not going to be the one that asks first.

as fate would have it, jungkook was actually having a worse time than you were.

it had been three weeks since you walked out his door and he felt an array of emotions. many of which, he had no words for. “who shat in your cheerios?”

his brother looks at him with a fake pout on his face. jungkook looks at him annoyed and unamused, and ignores him. dinner at his parents house every tuesday night was a requirement with few reasonable exceptions. tonight was no different. “you’ve had such a shitty attitude lately.” he tells him, leaning over the table. “i mean, you’re normally unpleasant, but this is new even for you.”

jungkook’s patience is wearing extremely thin and this is not helping. “is that your convoluted way of worrying about me.” he teases. “don’t worry big bro.” he reaches out to ruffle his hair, “i feel fantastic!”

his brother swats his hand away and they both lean back in their seats as their mother joins them at the table. jungkook would blow this off if he could, but he figures it's the least he could do considering the days he has to make his father proud are slowly ticking away.

he thinks you’re teasing him. and not in the sexy way. he figured he was done for in more ways than one after you left his house that night. and he also knew he couldn’t count all the things he’d done wrong to you on both of his hands. maybe even his toes. he doesn’t know for sure, he knows he’s blind to all the stupid and mean things he does due to the way he was raised. he tells himself he can’t help it and he shouldn’t have to. people will either like and accept him for him, or they won’t. that's not his problem. but he knew the difference between the hurtful things he said and you said, were that your words were true. and now he was paying the price.

you seemingly haven’t told his dad. he wasn’t sure why, exactly. you told him you would. he thought you’d sealed his fate after that night and come monday morning you would be singing the story to his father. but days passed and he still hadn’t heard anything from you or his father. he hated this.

“jungkook,” his father calls to him, his heart skips a beat each time he does, knowing one of these days will be his end, “have you heard from y/n? you are still seeing her, right?” jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. the last thing he wanted to do was both be a terrible, unfit person to run the company but also a liar if he said something that was different to what you’d tell him.

“uhm, yeah.” he says simply, indirectly causing all eyes to raise to him.

“yeah? you mean yes.” he corrects. “so, you are still seeing her?”

jungkook’s brother hops into conversation first. “oh, yeah you’re seeing that girl, must not be going well.” he shoves another spoonful of food in his mouth afterwards, nothing more needed to be said after his comment sent the rest of them into a frenzy.

“oh no jungkook, what did you do-”

“seriously son?”

“god!” he slams his fists on the table. “why do you all assume the worst of me?” the table was silent. “i didn’t even say we weren’t together, so why did you take this idiot’s joke as truth and blame me for something that didn’t even happen?” they stare at him as he finishes his outburst, “do you comprehend how unfair that is?”

his dad is the first to speak after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “that is unfair, but every time i’ve given you the benefit of the doubt, you’ve proven me wrong.”

jungkook looks up at his father. “thats not fair-”

“then what is fair?”

jungkook didn’t know how to respond. he knew what he wanted to say. fuck, he wanted to scream it. he wanted to throw a tantrum and yell at his dad for leaving his mother, for remarrying too quickly, for never caring the way a parent should. any piece of his past that he had no control over. he wanted to berate them for neglecting to fix him the same way they berate him for neglecting to fix himself. that is what he wanted to do. he wanted someone to blame. he was angry at a past he could not change. it was a hopeless venture he was doomed to lose. and in those infuriating moments at dinner, that is when it all came to light.

there was absolutely nothing he could do. he had two options: live a life of hatred and entitlement, or try to change. it sounds simple, but jungkook knew he was comfortable in the first option. that's the life he’d been living the past 10 years, and up until now, it’s worked for him. he also knew the only chance he’d have at letting go of this terrible anger and shaking the reputation he’d put upon himself, was to take a shot at number two.

he didn’t want to. but the defining reason became: if i fail, i just go back.

jungkook left dinner early that night. his family didn’t contact him. he called off from his internship. he lounged around his house doing virtually nothing for about three days before the first epiphany happened. it was listening to mr.kim’s voicemail, “hello, jungkook. hope you’re feeling well. if you could let me know asap when we can expect you back in, that would be very helpful. please, call me back.”

his first reaction: “fuck this.” followed by lazily turning onto his back, rolling around in his messy bed with a large sigh. his second thought: they’re counting on me, i have to show up. and with more motivation than necessary, he sits up, and dials the number.

jungkook found working tiring, but extremely rewarding. he had low expectations for himself. he felt like shit, felt like the work he did was shit, and like he was holding them back. when the project he was working on was not only picked up by a chief editor, but highly praised, he was beyond surprised.

“i have to say jungkook, i thought you were just following in your fathers footsteps. i was worried you didn’t have any of his talent.” the older man said, “but i have to say, i may like this even more than the work i’ve seen of your fathers.” he grins at him, “it’s a shame you’re not just another uni kid we can sign with, otherwise, you’d be hired.”

jungkook was speechless. he was sure he was red in the face and bowed much further than was necessary, but he didn't care. the old jungkook would have thought they were just saying that to get on his good side, to put them in good-standing with his family. but he knew now that wasn’t the case. he has actual talent. what he viewed as “sucking up” this whole time could very-well have been people simply trying to compliment his work.

and had he not been such a dick, he would have seen it.

jungkook spent the rest of that week and the next making a genuine effort to change the way he acts and thinks. it was hard, and exhausting, and he wasn’t sure the payoff was worth it, but he knew there was still something nagging at him.

so he thought to do the things he’d seen on tv and in movies.

he showed up to your door with flowers and chocolate.

you wanted to punch him.

“what… the hell are you doing.”

he stares at you stunned, this was not the reaction he was banking on. “t-they’re for you.”

you blink. once. twice. “why.”

he furrows his brows, “aren’t you gonna let me in?”

you match his expression, “no.”

he looks offended and you scoff. “i’m here because i’m sorry.”

you look surprised, “sorry?” you laugh, “sorry for what?”

he nods, “well, everything, really. i haven’t been nice to you if it wasn’t to serve another purpose. i-i’ve manipulated you, lied to you, raised my voice, said really mean things.” you nod to all of this, arms crossed over your chest as you stand in your doorway, still in your silk pjs because you had the day off and you weren’t banking on this.

come to think of it, how did he know you’d be home?

“and most of all, i’m sorry for not treating you like a friend, when that’s all you tried to be.”

his words interest you. “well, for starters, i appreciate the gesture.” he shakes his head quickly.

“you deserve more.”

you nod wearily, suspiciously, “and thanks for apologizing.” he looks up to you with a hopeful grin, which you crush, “but apology not accepted.”

he looks at you with wide, puppy dog eyes. you’re surprised his lip doesn’t start quivering. “y-you don’t accept it?” you shake your head. “h-how can i get you to forgive me, then?”

you laugh, “i don’t think there is a way.”

he looks like a deflated balloon, you almost feel bad. but you don’t. “so what, are we just done with this whole plan?”

you chuckle, your tongue poking the inside of your cheek as you point at him, “see? i knew you were only here for that reason-”

“no! that’s really not it! please y/n-”

“just fuck off jungkook!” you open your door and he shouts as you’re closing it.

“i’m leaving these here!” you don’t reply, but for some reason you stand on the other side of the door, listening. hoping that wasn’t it. “and i’m going to keep trying.”

you don’t notice the smallest, tiniest, smile that grows.

but you insist, you still hate jeon jungkook.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

wowa this is definitely the most time and effort i've put into a story before so if you are ever going to support me in any way, i BEG that it be this. your interaction and support means the world to me, and it shows me that you enjoy this content which will guide me to post more or less like this, so if you like something, show it!

as always, thank u for reading (and making it this far <3) and i hope u have a wonderful day !! - ara :)

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collecting-stories · 3 years ago

Text

Jellyfish - JJ Maybank

Request: Hey! I was wondering or you could do an outer banks imagine where like in season one the pogues leave kie, Sarah and reader on a boat, and the reader is the one getting stung by a jellyfish. The night goes on and she starts having an allergic reaction the jellyfish sting and her breathing starts to go bad and all dizzy. The girls have to call a mayday. And the sherif/ambulance boat? Comes and gets her or the pogues come back the next morning and she is not well at all. Then hospital. The pogues feel really badx Maybe reader x jj? 

A/N: I just started a rewatch of s1 tonight so I can finally watch s2...also I googled allergic reactions to a jellyfish sting for this.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah stood beside you, practically holding you up, as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the marsh for the fifth time in so many minutes. The boys plan to strand Sarah and Kiara on the boat hadn’t been a very clever one and when you had protested JJ had jokingly pushed you over the edge of the HMS, claiming that now you too were stranded with them. 

It wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your night, especially with everyone on each other’s nerves as severely as they were, you’d been looking forward to taking advantage of that and spending the night back at your house with JJ. Instead, you were stranded on Heyward’s boat with Kiara and Sarah bitching at each other. Not to mention the angry red mark blossoming over your stomach from the jellyfish that had stung you as you’d tread water earlier.

“I thought you said you could fix this stupid piece of shit!” Sarah shouted to Kiara as she rubbed her hand along your back. The juxaposition of her kindness to you and her edgyness with Kiara wasn’t lost on you...even as you felt your head swimming.

“I gotta lay down,” you urged, hands gripping the edge of the boat as you rested your chin against the cool side, staring into the murky water. It was starting to get darker outside but you weren’t paying attention to that anymore. You felt like you were going to throw up again though this time it felt prompted by the dizzy feeling when you moved your head and not the pain shooting through your abdomen.

“Okay, let’s lay down...do you want a blanket or something?” Sarah asked, eyes darting around the boat to check for any spare blankets or sweatshirts.

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as your vision blurred. “No...no, it’s so hot.” When you struggled to get JJ’s shirt over your head without moving too much, Sarah grabbed the hem of the shirt and eased it up.

“She doesn’t need your help!” Kiara yelled from the hatch, looking out at you with concern. You’d been fine earlier, before you’d boarded the boat with them, before the jellyfish stung you, but now you were doing worse and worse. She was trying to fix the boat but it was obvious that JJ and John B’s genius plan had included purposely sabotaging any chance they had of getting the boat back to shore.

“Obviously, she does!” Sarah shouted back, “she’s puking over the side of the fucking boat! What was in that shit you rolled anyway?”

Kiara looked incredulous at the suggestion that it was the weed they’d smoked that made you like this, “oh cause I poisoned my best friend with weed? Is that it?”

“Maybe!” Sarah shrugged, “how should I know.”

“Not helping,” you groaned, rolling to the side and pressing your hand against your stomach. “Kie...my stomach is killing me.”

“What can I do?” She asked, coming back over to you and Sarah.

“Call for the coast guard or something?” Sarah suggested, looking out over the marsh as if someone would just happen to be driving through. It was pitch black now, the night falling completely. It wasn’t too late yet, close to 9:30p Sarah supposed, but she wasn’t confident that this could last until morning. Who knew when the boys would come back?

“With what phone Sarah? The tower is down.”

“Swim to shore or something then!” She snapped.

“Sure, no problem...why didn’t I think of that? I’ll jump in the fucking marsh in the pitch black and swim toward what I think might be land!” Kiara shouted.

“Guys,” you snapped, pulling yourself up to the edge of the ship again. You felt like you were going to throw up again but there wasn’t anything left in your stomach, “shut the fuck up! You aren’t helping...I know they messed with the boat, is the radio working?”

“Let me check.” Kiara stood up from your side and headed back to the controls, checking the radio. “I’ve got a signal!”

You weren’t sure how long it took between Kiara signaling a mayday and the police boat actually coming out on the marsh because you passed out soon after she’d gotten the signal, slumped against Sarah, the pain in your side and abdomen too much for you to bear. Neither of the girls wanted to leave you overnight in the hospital, worried something would happen the second they left your side, so Kiara scribbled a note and left it taped to the window of the boat.

Gone to the hospital – was all it said. Not very descriptive but extremely alarming, the boys had arrived at the emergency room frantic.

“What the fuck kind of scare tactic was that Kie!” JJ had shouted down the hallway when he saw his friend outside one of the rooms. A nurse down the same hall shushed him as he passed her and he turned around to flip her off.

“Excuse me but you three deserve it after the shit you pulled! Leaving us stranded out there with no communication? You’re lucky the radio worked.” Sarah hissed, shoving JJ when he tried to get passed her into the room.

The second he’d seen her it had been clear the person who was missing, the one who was undoubtedly in the hospital bed in the room he was standing outside of. You’d gotten hurt, seriously if you were here, if they’d had to mayday a police boat.

“What happened?” Pope asked, quieter than his best friend had been able to muster.

“She’s allergic to jellyfish.” Sarah replied, turning a glare on JJ, “when this moron pushed her in the water she got stung and had a reaction.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’ll be alright...she’s dehydrated though, so she’s on fluids for the rest of the – JJ!” Kiara snapped when he pushed passed her to get into the room. He moved the curtain aside to see you there, still a little out of it from the exhaustion of the night before but you smiled when you saw him.

“Hey,” he dropped his voice down to a whisper, a contrast to the sharp scrap of the chair that he dragged to your bedside, “I’m so sorry.”

“Guess I’m allergic to something after all.” You managed to tease, recalling the conversation you’d had a few weeks earlier when JJ had begrudgingly given up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was trying to make at John B’s when you reminded him that he was highly allergic to peanuts.

He’d claimed that “maybe it went away”, a possibility you both knew to be impossible while you told him that you weren’t stabbing him with an epi-pen if he had an allergic reaction. “I would stab you, if you were allergic to anything,” JJ had replied, settling for jelly on toast instead.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” JJ said now, eyeing the bag of fluids that was connected to you via IV. “I would’ve been fine thinking you didn’t have any allergies.”

“It’s not your fault JJ, it was an accident...I could’ve been stung a million times before this, we literally live on the coast.” You tried to laugh and coughed; throat still sore. JJ grabbed for the pitcher of water at your bedside and poured you a glass, leaning over to help you swallow.

“Yeah but you didn't get stung a million times before this...you got stung after I pushed you in!”

“We should let you get some rest,” Pope’s voice sounded over JJ’s shoulder and you both looked over to where he was standing at the curtain. He smiled at you, a silent ‘glad you’re okay’ and ‘sorry’ rolled into one.

You nodded, more than aware that you were on the verge of falling asleep again. Still, you reached for your boyfriend’s hand, settling for his wrist instead as he was still holding the plastic cup. “Will you stay?” you asked, eyes meeting JJ’s.

“Yeah, of course.” He promised, sitting back down, “I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t mention the absolute panic that had racked through him when he saw Kiara’s note or realized you were the one that was injured and he definitely didn’t tell you how severely he blamed himself for you getting stung in the first place, instead he just sat there holding your hand and promising that he would stay there with you until you were discharged. “Everything’s okay, you’re okay.”

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fortheloveofwonderland · 3 years ago

Text

Unbreak My Heart | S.R (3/3)

Part One | Part Two

Summary: you and Spencer are total strangers meeting for the first time fresh from you both being dumped. You hatch a plan to help each other break up your ex’s new relationships and win them back.

A/N - final part of my mini series based on the film “I Want You Back.” And just FYI this isn’t how the film actually ends, this was my idea in place of the “oxygen mask” scenario from the film.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst, smut (NSFW 18+), happy ending

Content Warnings - swearing, oral (fem! receiving), mild dirty talk, use of “good girl”, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, heavy angst but a happy ending

Word Count - 5.6k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not long after Spencer and Liam arrived at the girls house, did several other, much younger men turn up.

Spencer felt uncomfortable. He did not want this night to end in the bed of some random woman. But the way Chloe was hanging off of him told him that was exactly how the night was going to end.

Until a car pulling up in the driveway turned everything on its head.

“Oh shit!” One of the guys yelled. “We gotta get out of here!”

Chloe peered through the window as the boys made a run for it out the back of the house.

“Who is it?” Spencer frowned in confusion.

Chloe stepped back from the window, giving him a sheepish look.

“My dad.” She shrugged.

“Your…your d-dad?” Spencer was floored. “I thought you said you were twenty six!”

“I’m nearly twenty six.” She shrugged again.

“H-how close is nearly?” His heart was hammering in his chest.

“I’m twenty four.” She chewed on her lip. “I’m twenty one.”

“How old are you?” Spencer felt dizzy.

“I’m eighteen.”

“Oh goddamnit.” Spencer felt sick. “You said you were a journalist!”

“For my college newspaper.”

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He turned to Liam. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

They narrowly made it out of the back door before Chloe’s dad entered the house.

Spencer thought he might vomit. For whatever reason, Liam seemed to find it funny.

“This is so far from being funny, Liam.” Spencer hit Liam in the arm as they walked down the street. “She’s eighteen! Eighteen! I almost had sex with an eighteen year old!”

“Relax dude, at least she wasn’t seventeen.”

“I'm twenty years older than her! I could be her dad!”

“Maybe that’s what she liked.” Liam winked at him, causing Spencer to hit him again. “Relax! You didn’t even kiss her.”

“But what if I had! Fucking Christ this was a bad idea.”

They came across a bench and fell down onto it.

Liam sighed loudly.

“This wasn’t the night I planned.” Liam admitted. “This isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be hanging out with a bunch of teenagers. I want to settle down, I want something real.”

“Agreed.” Spencer nodded sadly.

Liam turned to him, his eyes sparkling.

“I’m going to propose to Becky.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he stared at his friend.

“You’ve only just met her.”

“I know.” Liam smiled softly. “But I love her man, she’s incredible. I’ve never felt like this before.”

How the hell was Spencer going to break this to you? Instead of directing Liam back to you, he’d inadvertently pushed him further into the arms of Becky.

He’d failed you, it was as simple as that.

Liam looked at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction.

Spencer forced himself to smile.

“That’s great.” Spencer lied. “That’s really great.”

How could he possibly tell you that the love of your life was getting engaged? He’d really fucked this whole thing up.

***

You were showered and in your sweats when Spencer found you in your bedroom later that night. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What’s with the face?” You sat on the edge of the bed. “Let me guess, you didn’t get laid tonight?”

“No.” Spencer croaked sitting down next to you. “Did you?”

“Almost. And then Margo walked in.”

His mouth fell open as he glared at you.

“S-she…fuck what happened?”

“She dumped his ass. She told him that you’re twice the man he’ll ever be. I think you should be expecting a phone call any minute. You’re welcome.” You stood back up, turning away from Spencer so he didn’t see the look of hurt in your eyes.

But why did it hurt? This had been the plan all along. The plan most certainly hadn’t been to fall for Spencer along the way.

“Wow.” Spencer breathed. “Wow that’s…great.”

You heard the uncertainty in his voice and it forced you to look at him again.

“Is it?” You questioned him.

“Yeah.” He stood up. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know, Spencer. You tell me.” You dared to walk closer to him, stopping inches apart.

He looked down on you and you saw him swallow.

“I still love her.” He confessed.

“I know you do.” You hung your head but a second later his hand was cupping your chin and guiding your face back to look at him.

“I still love her. But it’s you I can’t stop thinking about.”

This time when your lips met, Spencer knew he wasn’t imaging it. He knew the way you felt and the way you tasted was real.

He helped you out of your clothes and you helped him out of his with no more words spoken between you.

He laid you back to bed, taking a second to look down at you in all your incredible glory before he joined you on the bed.

He kissed you again briefly but was soon shuffling down the bed, parting your legs and wasting no tie burying his head between them.

You moaned, reaching for his hair as his tongue lapped over your clit. You submerged your fingers into his hair, getting lost in his tresses.

His hands wandered your thighs as he worked you with his tongue.

The noises you were making echoed around the room and it made Spencer’s cock throb. Your taste and your sounds were making him delirious, and he never wanted it to end.

He licked between your folds, gathering your wetness on his tongue, making him feel dizzy. Your thighs were tightening, trying to squeeze together as you tugged on his hair.

“Spencer,” you whined. “Spence, please.”

He smiled to himself, burying his tongue into you.

“What do you want?” He spoke, his voice vibrating through you. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

He lapped over your sensitive clit again, causing the most beautiful noises to leave your lips.

“I want you to…oh fuck…” you moaned again. “Fuck me Spencer. Please. I need you to fuck me.”

Your words caused Spencer to moan and once again it vibrated through you to your core.

He dove his tongue through your folds once more, wanting to taste every last bit of you before he sat back, wiping his mouth with his hand.

“Say it again.” Spencer took his own shaft in his hand as he knelt over you and started stroking himself.

“I want you to fuck me, Spencer! I want you inside of me like I’ve never wanted anything before!”

You pulled him down by his arm and kissed him hard, his dick nestling between your legs.

“Fuck that’s hot, Y/N.” He spoke into your mouth as he plunged himself deep inside of you, causing you to let out the filthiest moan he’d ever heard.

He sat back so he could look at you, on his knees on the mattress and he pulled you closer.

He pulled your ass into his lap but you stayed laying down, arching your back.

He started thrusting into you with more vigour than you expected.

Since joining Liam’s gym, Spencer had shed the weight he’d gained and toned up in all the right places. For the first time in his life he felt confident in his body.

It was allowing him confidence in his sexual performance and it showed.

He’d always been on the meek side in the bedroom, always letting Margo take the reins and lead him wherever she wanted him. Not today.

He pulled you up by your arm. You were like a rag doll, so easy to manipulate how he saw fit.

He pulled you so you were sitting in his lap and he stroked your hair back from your flushed face.

“Ride me.” He instructed you, gripping your hips to show you it wasn’t a request.

You were happy to oblige, holding his shoulders to steady yourself while you started moving up and down on him.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” He gasped, the new angle allowing him to delve deeper inside of you.

He felt like he’d spent his whole life drowning, as though he’d been just below the surface unable to break free of the waves that continuously crashed around him.

You felt like coming up for air. You felt like the first breath he’d been able to take after a lifetime underwater.

You felt like the waves parting, a ray of sunlight beaming down on him as he surfaced.

You felt like home.

And Spencer was so overwhelmed he thought he might actually fucking cry.

But he couldn’t do that.

Instead he started thrusting to meet your movements, concentrating on your moans and the way your breasts heaved with your heavy breathing.

He balled your hair up in his hand and yanked your head backwards so he could suck on the flesh of your neck.

And just like in his fantasies, he uttered, “tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

It sounded more pathetic than he would have liked it to but he tried not to focus on it and focused instead on the way your neck tasted beneath his lips.

You moaned again, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, Spencer. You. Only you.” You panted in reply.

He had no way to know if you were lying or not but he chose to believe you weren’t. He needed to believe in that moment that he was like coming up for air for you too.

He pulled you close by your neck and kissed your lips as you continued moving on top of him.

You felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the intensity in which he hit you repeatedly in your sweet spot.

You knew you were already close. You also knew this was going to be an incredibly intense orgasm.

Spencer detached his lips from yours and your head fell to his shoulder. Your movements were becoming lazy so Spencer started thrusting harder up into you.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He mumbled into your hair. “So fucking good. You’re such a fucking good girl.”

His words were enough to push you over your edge and he felt it in the way you clenched around him and the moan that left your lips was the most filthy noise he’d ever had the pleasure of listening to.

He wanted to bottle that noise.

He wrapped his arms around you to keep you upright but it only took a few more thrusts before Spencer was coming too, moaning into your hair.

He kept you in his lap while he rode out his orgasm and then he gently laid you back to the bed and pulled out.

He laid down next to you and stroked your hair off your sweat slicked face.

You smiled dopily at him, eyes fluttering closed.

“Such a good girl.” He whispered, placing kisses along your hairline. “Such a good, good girl.”

The sound of a phone ringing permeated the bliss. Spencer shot up instantly, locating his pants and freeing his phone from the pocket.

Your head was still hazy as you tried to listen to half of the conversation. It only lasted a minute at most before he hung up.

You heard him sigh deeply.

“That was Margo.” He chewed his lip.

In an instant, your haziness wore off and you were suddenly very aware of everything.

You pulled the sheet around your naked body.

“Ok.” You croaked.

“She wants to see me. She’s heading to the house.”

You clenched your jaw to stop your tears from falling.

This had been the plan all along, to help him get back together with Margo.

You forced yourself to smile.

“Go!” You nudged him in the arm. “Go to her!”

He looked like he might protest. For the briefest second he looked like he was contemplating staying with you.

But of course he didn’t.

He smiled as he pushed himself up from the bed.

You watched as he dressed, feeling as though your chest was constricting more and more with every passing second.

Once he was dressed he smiled at you a little sadly.

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged.

“Why are you sorry?”

“I didn’t mean to…I didn’t want to…”

“It’s ok.” You shook your head. “It’s really ok, Spencer. Now go get your woman.”

The second Spencer was out the door, your tears broke free.

How could you have been so stupid? You knew all this time Margo was the only woman Spencer would ever love, but you’d fooled yourself into believing he’d wanted you and only you.

Had she been on his mind the whole time? Was he thinking of that bitch when he fucked you?

You curled into a ball and sobbed into your pillow.

You’d let Spencer use you. And what was worse, you’d let yourself fall for him.

You hated yourself at that moment. You were angry at Spencer but you were more angry at yourself.

Your heart had already been fragile when you met him, like a piece of cracked China that would only take the slightest bit of manhandling to shatter completely.

You’d held yourself together the best you could after your break up with Liam with now your heart was well and truly in pieces.

And you only had yourself to blame.

***

Spencer felt terrible for the way he’d left you and come running as soon as Margo had called. But it was Margo, what was he supposed to do?

He took a small bit of comfort in the fact that had it been you receiving a call from Liam, you would have done the same.

He was berating himself the whole drive home, hating the way he’d left but knowing he would always jump when Margo asked.

He just hoped you’d understand.

He let himself into the house to find Margo standing in the living room, with a sheepish look on her face.

“I still had my key.” She shrugged.

“What is this?” Spencer didn’t dare move any closer to her. “Why did you call? Why are you here?”

“I made a mistake, Spencie. I made a really stupid mistake. I miss you so, so much.” She stepped a little closer to him.

After all the pain she’d caused him, Spencer wanted to tell her to hit the road. He wanted to tell her he’d met someone else and he didn’t care if she’d missed him. Where had she been when he’d missed her?

But one look in Margo’s eyes and Spencer was like putty in her hand. He got lost in those eyes the way he had done so many times before.

He remembered all the reasons he loved her while all the reasons he hated slipped away.

Somehow Margo was now right in front of him, her hands on his shoulders giving him that smile he’d first fallen in love with.

“You still love me, don’t you Spencie?”

Yes I do, even if it makes me an idiot, I do.

He didn’t speak, he just nodded because saying it out loud made him feel like an idiot.

He shouldn’t still love her. He wished he didn’t still love her.

It was enough for her to throw her arms around his neck and then their lips met and Spencer felt himself tumbling down a rabbit hole.

He let her kiss him. He let her lead him to their bedroom. He let her undress him and push him back to the bed.

That’s how things worked with Margo. What Margo said was what happened. He was her puppet. It was only now that he was really realising that.

She ran her hands over his torso, admiring his new muscles.

“Have you been working out, baby?”

“Yeah.” He nodded stiffly.

Thank god it was that she noticed and not that he smelt like another woman.

***

A few days passed and you just had to keep your head above water.

You tried not to let yourself think of Spencer or Liam or Margo or any of the horrible situations you’d found yourself in recently.

Three days later you came into work to find a handwritten note on your desk.

All it said was - “meet me in the stairwell at 10.”

You knew who it was from. You didn’t know why Spencer couldn’t just text you like a normal person.

Ten o clock was only two hours away but it was the longest two hours of your life.

You redirected calls, replied to emails and tried to keep your mind busy but you couldn’t stop watching the clock.

When ten finally rolled around your whole body was buzzing in anticipation but not a good kind. It felt as though your body had been set to vibrate because you couldn’t physically stop moving.

Spencer was already in the stairwell, sheepishly scuffing the toe of his worn converse on the ground.

He looked up when he heard the door open and his expression said more than words ever could.

He went to speak but his voice was lost in his throat. You didn’t need him to speak to hear him.

“You and Margo worked things out.” You kept your distance, no longer trusting yourself to be close to him.

“Yeah.” He swallowed, his eyes darting about as though too scared to look at you.

“I’m happy for you.” You lied, and you think he knew you were lying too because his eyes finally settled on you and his eyebrow raised a little.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shook your head. “It was always the plan. I was here to help you win her back and you were here to help me win Liam back.”

The mention of Liam’s name caused a pained expression to form on Spencer’s features.

“I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

“What for?” You chewed your lip, willing yourself not to cry.

“Yesterday Liam proposed to Becky. And she said yes.”

His words should have been a punch to your gut. You should have crumbled hearing the love of your life was getting married.

But you didn’t care. You were no longer even sure Liam was the love of your life.

But the love of your life was with another woman.

“Ok.” You croaked. “It’s ok.”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated and you knew he’d reverted back to apologising for himself rather than Liam.

“We’ll still be friends. We’ll still hang out.” Your smile died before it reached your lips because Spencer was shaking his head.

“We can’t.” He sniffed. “Margo’s met you. It’s too complicated.”

“Right.” Why was it more painful hearing that than finding out Liam was getting married?

Well, you knew why. You knew exactly why.

“I’m sorry.”

“Would you stop saying that?” You snapped a little harsher than you’d meant to. “It doesn’t make anything better, Spencer. Look, I've got to get back to work. I’ll see you around I guess.”

You couldn’t bear to face him anymore, on the cusp of tears. You barely took two steps before he was calling after you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry! I wish I had something better to say but I don’t. But I really am sorry.”

You looked at him over your shoulder briefly as you reached the door. Your heart was shattering in your chest as you looked at him.

But you’d be damned if you let him know that.

“And I really don’t care, Spencer.” And with that you left, leaving him staring at the empty spot you’d just been occupying.

***

Five Months Later

When you’d received the invite your initial reaction had been to trash it.

But after reading the handwritten note tucked inside the invite, you’d had a really quick turn around.

Y/N,

I know I don’t have any right to send you this, and I would totally understand if you just trashed it.

But you were a big part of my life for so long that it wouldn’t feel right for me if you weren’t at my wedding.

Like I said, I get if you just toss this away. But it would really mean the world to me if you would consider coming.

All the best,

Liam.

Honestly, the last place you expected to find yourself was at your ex boyfriend's wedding. Least of all at your ex boyfriend’s wedding in New York.

And even more bizarrely was finding yourself at your ex boyfriend’s wedding, in New York with Lawrence as your date.

You’d bumped into him in a bar a few days after the invite arrived. You’d talked to him about it, although you have no idea why.

He listened patiently with a seemingly genuine interest. And he’d offered to come with you.

At first you’d laughed because there was no way you were taking this creep with you to Liam’s wedding.

But the more you thought about it, the more you didn’t want to go alone. And Lawrence as a date seemed better than no date at all.

The wedding was being held at a grand hotel in Manhattan. You made it through the ceremony without crying or wishing the bride was you. Mostly because you didn’t wish it was you.

The trouble had come at the reception.

Lawrence left you at your table while he went in search of drinks. You were scrolling through Instagram on your phone when someone cleared their throat in your vicinity.

You glanced up from your phone and you swore to god your whole world stopped turning.

He looked like a goddamn dream in his dark tux, crisp white shirt and burgundy tie.

His hair was still as messy as you remembered even at a wedding and he had a few days worth of stubble growth on his face.

“Spencer,” you stood up, smoothing down the front of your dress. “What are you doing here?”

“Liam and I became friends. We still hang out.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“Of course you do.” You rolled your eyes in disbelief.

“I didn’t think you’d be here. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known you-“

“Don’t I know you?” Spencer was cut off by a stunning redhead sashaying over, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“I uh…”

“You’re the bitch that slept with my boyfriend!”

Now, it was hard to say who exactly she was talking about.

She could have been talking about Lawrence because she wasn’t to know you hadn’t slept with him after she walked in on you.

But she could have also been talking about Spencer.

“Margo, please.” Spencer lightly touched her arm. “Now’s not the time.”

“She slept with Lawrence when I was still with him.”

“I actually didn’t.” At least Lawrence you could deny. Thank god she wasn’t talking about Spencer.

“Did someone say my name?” As if right on cue, Lawrence appeared with your drinks and shit was about to get awkward.

“Lawrence?” Margo gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m Y/N’s date.” He smiled smugly at her.

“Wow.” Spencer scoffed. “Really? You couldn’t do better than him?”

Margo looked between you and Spencer sensing the recognition between the two of you.

But before she could say anything, your party got a little bigger.

“Hey, I’m so glad you guys could all make it!” Liam beamed, his arm around his new wife, clearly not sensing the tension.

“Do you know Y/N?” Margo narrowed her eyes on Spencer, ignoring Liam and Becky’s arrival.

“Spencer doesn’t know Y/N. Why do you know Y/N?” Liam spoke up with a frown of confusion.

You wanted to just slip away while there were no eyes on you. You wanted to slip away and run far, far away from this place before things got anymore awkward.

But you were frozen to the spot.

“My ex boyfriend cheated on me with her.”

“That would be me!” Lawrence held his hand up.

“What’s your ex boyfriend doing here?” Becky frowned now.

“He’s here with Y/N!” Margo sighed. “How do you know Y/N?”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend.” Liam was really confused.

Everyone was really confused.

“Maybe I should go.” You found yourself speaking and all eyes were suddenly on you.

But there was only one set you were looking back at.

“Don’t.” Spencer spoke quietly. “Please, don’t go.”

“So you do know each other?” Margo sounded enraged. “How do you know her?”

“We uh…we work in the same building.” Spencer replied but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

You chewed on your lip, knowing if you stayed too long you would break down.

But you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t help the words that came flying out of your mouth. You wanted to hurt them all at that moment. You wanted every single one of them to hurt the way you were hurting.

“We met at work right after you and I broke up Liam, and right after Margo broke up with him. We hatched a plan together. I got Spencer to befriend you in the hopes of talking you away from Becky and back to me. And I seduced Lawrence to show Margo the kind of man he really was so she would realise what she was missing with Spencer.”

Spencer’s face dropped, his mouth falling open as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I’m surprisingly ok with that.” Lawrence shrugged.

“No one asked you.” Margo spat at him.

“I’m truly sorry Becky. I didn’t mean for you to get dragged into all of this. I just thought everyone should know the truth. Oh, Margo, do you want to know something really funny?” You laughed dryly, patting the other woman on the shoulder. “When you said I slept with your boyfriend, for a minute I thought you’d found out and me and Spencer! How awkward would that have been!”

And on that bombshell, you dropped the metaphorical microphone and turned on your heels, marching away with your head held high.

You heard a lot of gasps and raised voices left behind in your wake. And for the first time since Spencer left you that night, you smiled a real, genuine smile.

***

Spencer had been in for a world of pain after your outburst. Margo had dragged him back to their hotel room where an extremely volatile screaming match had ensued.

A very one-sided screaming match. Spencer didn’t really say much of anything.

It had cultivated in him telling Margo he didn’t want to be with her anymore. He told her he’d made a mistake getting back together with her and his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

It had ended with her kicking him out their room and Spencer drowning his sorrows at the hotel bar.

He wasn’t sure how long he was nursing his whisky for when he felt a presence in the chair next to him.

He looked up at you at a complete loss for words.

“I wanted to find you and tell you I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. I was angry and I was hurt and I-“

“I’m not mad at you.” Spencer chuckled. “Not even a little bit. In fact, I’m glad you did it.”

“You’re…you’re glad?”

“Crazy right?” Spencer sighed. “I would have stayed with her. I would have spent the rest of my life with her if you hadn’t said what you did. I’ve always been a sucker for her, Y/N. Maybe it’s because she was my first love. Maybe it’s because she was the first woman that ever made me feel like I was worthy of love. Maybe I’m just a complete fool. But I would have stayed with her if it hadn’t been for what you said. And for that I’m glad. I’m finally free from her spell.”

“Well then, I guess…you’re welcome?”

“I know you don’t want to hear it but I really am sorry for that night, Y/N. I was an idiot for choosing her over you. You're my slow burn.”

“It’s too late, Spencer. You really, really hurt me. I can’t just forgive that.”

Spencer sighed, nodding sadly. He knew he’d fucked up and he knew he’d have to pay for that for the rest of his life.

“I wish there were a better word to say I’m sorry.”

“With your IQ and you can’t think of a better word?” You teased him, making him laugh. “Look, I wanted you to know that I’m going to be leaving the FBI. I’m going back to college doing night classes in business. And I’ve got an internship lined up which I know is so lame at my age but-“

“That’s awesome.” He smiled genuinely at you. “That’s really fucking awesome.”

“Thanks.” You blushed a little. “I’m also moving out of the “frat” house. I am way too old to be living with college students. Even if I am going to be one again.”

“I’m really proud of you, Y/N.” He gently placed his hand on your arm and you hated that goosebumps instantly flared under your skin at his touch.

“Well I’m going to call it a night.” You slid out of your chair and stood up.

“Goodbye, Y/N. It’s been a pleasure.” He smiled sadly at you.

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

***

Goodbyes were never all that they were cracked up to be, especially when they weren’t actually goodbye.

The following day you were in your seat on your flight back to DC when you saw the tall, messy haired man making his way down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he took his seat across the aisle from you.

Did the world really hate you this much? Why did the universe insist on throwing the two of you together time after time?

The plane took off and you focused on your book, refusing to look at Spencer.

You reread the same page over and over, not being able to focus on the words due to his proximity to you.

A few times you felt his eyes on you and you almost caved. But you stayed strong, eyes glued to the pages in front of you.

About half way through the flight you noticed in your peripheral vision that he got up headed in the direction of the bathroom.

You didn’t watch him go. You forced your eyes to remain down. It was one of the hardest things you’d ever done.

A few moments later the tannoy sounded and a voice came through the speakers.

“Uh…excuse me, can I have everyone’s attention?”

You froze.

You tore your eyes away from your book towards the front of the plane where Spencer was standing holding the airplane's intercom system and looking right at you.

“Sorry to disturb you all but uh…there’s something I need to do.”

You glared at him wide eyed, your heart hammering in your chest.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You mouthed at him but he simply gave you a shaky smile.

“I’ve never seen a rom-com before but I was once told that there is a pivotal moment in them where the guy is about to lose the girl and unless he makes some kind of grand, sweeping gesture, he’s going to lose her forever. He has to prove his love for her by making a complete fool out of himself.” He paused to take a breath, his hands shaking. “I’m in love with the woman in thirteen D and I messed it up in a huge way. So I guess the only thing left for me to do to show her what she means to me, is by making a grand gesture.”

Lots of sets of eyes were now on you, the woman in thirteen D.

You had tears silently rolling down your cheeks, eyes on Spencer and no one else.

And then as if the fact that Spencer Reid, the man who said he would never make a grand gesture for anyone, standing and addressing a flight full of people wasn’t enough, he took it a step further still.

Completely unaccompanied, out of tune and out of time, Spencer started to sing.

“Don't leave me in all this pain,

Don't leave me out in the rain.

Come back and bring back my smile,

Come and take these tears away.

I need your arms to hold me now,

The nights are so unkind.

Bring back those nights when I held you beside me.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened to him, somewhat murdering, Toni Braxton’s Unbreak My Heart.

You were taken back to the first night the two of you spent together at the karaoke bar, singing this song and Spencer having no clue of the words.

Of course his eidetic memory would only have to hear it once to remember the lyrics.

“Un-break my heart,

Say you'll love me again.

Undo this hurt you caused,

When you walked out the door,

And walked out of my life.

Un-cry these tears,

I cried so many nights,

Un-break my heart.

My heart.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of you for a second as he serenaded you.

You smiled at him through your tears. Unromantic, against grand gestures Spencer Reid was singing to you in front of all these people because he didn’t want to lose you.

Fight or flight. Go big or go home.

He’d made the decision that winning you back was worth making a complete fool himself over.

The two of you shared a knowing look as he continued. He’d unbroken your heart only to break it again. But here he was trying to help you unbreak it once more.

Broken or unbroken, your heart belonged to him. And now you knew for sure, his also belonged to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Taglist -

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@muffin-cup @andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @takeyourleap-of-faith @a-mended-pact @spencers-dria @sassymoon @sexy-dumpster-fire

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@frickin-bats @dreatine @adoringanakin @dr-spencerr-reidd @sleepretreat @spenxerslut @sweetandsunny

@bellaswanismysoulmate @mcumorningstar @dontcallmekittens @kuolonsyoja @radtwinkie @drayshadow @lytrc

@nani-2305 @rainsong01 @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @safespacespence @shemarmooresfedora @pastelbabygirl19 @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @people-whatabunchofbastards

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@love3babies

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction

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edwardskhakipants · 3 years ago

Text

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first��prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested. Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to.

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats.

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo. “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

#this bad boy had been swimming around in my head for awhile #please enjoy #my other fics havent been cullen centric enough for me lately #so i had to do something #twilight fic #twilight fan fiction #and thank you to the editing queen edwardsmate4ever for beta'ing for me #youre a queen

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