#sorry guys this shit gets me paranoid because this has happened TWICE NOW with two different relationships | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuuhta · 4 years ago

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just once

pairing: gojou satoru/reader

genre: smut

you weren't one to engage in one night stands, especially with strangers and well known fuck boys. heck, you don't even think about it, you just know so damn well that you would never want to get involved with them, dreading the thought that you might get feelings, only to be a check mark on their list.

but when gojou satoru came in the room, and his eyes were fixed on you, and only you, you can't help but think that maybe you can make an exception just this one time.

he hasn't even done or said anything yet, but you already feel so down for whatever he has in store. you aren't one to jump in to conclusions and assume that someone is interested in you, but the way his gorgeous blue eyes focused on you and only you as he walked inside the room, you just know it.

he is only proving your theory to be true when he sat on the chair beside you.

gojou satoru doesn’t count as a stranger since he’s a previous classmate and current workmate, but it has been well-established among your group of friends that he's one hell of a fuck boy. he's literally the no-strings-attached kind of guy, and you can say this is a fact because your mutual friend, which is satoru's best friend, ieri shouko, has told you that a one night stand is really just a one night stand for satoru, just a way to relieve his needs, no love, no romance, no feelings. he simply just doesn't really care. oh and also, he has never fucked a girl twice.

honestly, before today, he was someone in your to-avoid list. although you acknowledge that he’s very attractive, you never really paid much attention to guys who gave off arrogant vibes, so you barely interacted with him. you knew to yourself that you'd rather not get involved with someone like him. hearing the stories about satoru just made you feel nauseous, you've always thought of him as an asshole who only thinks with his dick. he's the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, yeah, but you give absolutely zero shit about that.

he's a heartbreaker... but if you were going to be honest, it's not like he's the only one to blame. he didn't really intentionally make the people he slept with fall in love with him.

you also heard from shouko that satoru always makes sure to tell his one night stand partner about the no strings attached rule. however, some still end up falling in love with him, or on some cases, they're already in love with him even before it happened.

fell in love with satoru?

it's their fault. in satoru's defense, he made sure to tell them to not fall.

it's satoru's fault. in their defense, satoru obviously led them on.

now that you think about it, besides stories about his sexual activity and the number of confessions he turned down, you don't really know much about him.

he always gave off a confident and pompous vibe, but whenever you had your little interactions with him, he actually seemed a bit decent. however, that was probably only because he knew how to separate his personal life from work.

but honestly, he is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, and on top of that, he has an ethereal face and an excellent body proportion. he has all reasons to be extremely confident.

"hi." the blue-eyed man started, removing his blindfold to change it with his shades.

your theory? so far, he's only proving it to be true. he definitely had his eyes on you.

you were feeling extremely and unusually conscious, but of course you try to hide it by acting like a bitch.

your eyebrows knit slightly as you take a look at him from the corner of your eye. "what?"

okay, now, you're starting to wonder if he's actually trying to flirt with you, or just become all buddy buddy with you. maybe you’re just being a mean bitch for no reason.

his eyes widened subtly at your response, probably not expecting such a dry and a bit rude answer. "you look cute today." he whispers.

his breath didn’t touch your ear, but it still sent shivers down your spine. you don’t let it physically show, but your paranoid ass is thinking he might’ve been able to sense it through cursed energy.

you wanted to roll your eyes to the point of seeing your brain inside your head, but you don't, and obviously, you can't.

"thanks?" you sneered.

you definitely don't want to deal with any bullshit and unnecessary feelings, so you at least try to ward him off while you still can.

"ah, sorry. are you in a bad mood?"

irked, you decided to ignore him, not knowing how to respond to his question. why is he trying to talk to you, in the first place?

your conversations with him were always brief and professional, mostly just to cooperate on a mission. you barely even looked at each other during those times. so you being cold and rude right now was a bit surprising to him. you're not usually like this, but it's the only thing you can do to try not to give in to his flirting.

well, sorry to him, you absolutely hate guys who try to get in your pants. no past bad experience or whatever, but you really don't like them. their style is just not your cup of tea. you’re someone who needs the emotional and wholesome connection before doing some... stuff.

and maybe that’s why you’re still a virgin. suguru is just a friend, ijichi and kusakabe are simply not your style, and nanami, oh, nanami. he’s the one who comes the closest to your type, but he just ain’t it, as well. you wanted someone who can deal with your jokes and occasional sarcastic remarks. you wanted a bit of playfulness.

"okay, i guess it's already obvious and i shouldn't have asked that."

you've never thought about it, but being the one on the receiving end of gojou satoru's attention actually feels different. now you feel a bit of regret for being mean.

you didn’t reply to him in any way, and he didn’t bother prodding anymore after.

you don’t know if you’re pleased or dismayed about this.

honestly though, you badly wanted to indulge him and flirt back. you just don't do so because how were you supposed to do that now, with all that’s been said and done.

glancing at him discreetly, you noticed that it seems like it doesn’t really matter for him, whether you ignored him or not.

good, you think to yourself, sighing in relief about the fact that gojou doesn’t care much about you. at least you feel chill now.

an hour has passed and the meeting has come to an end. not another word has been exchanged between the two of you.

you couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of that room.

you hurriedly stood up and headed to where the door was, but the superiors and older officials were heading out first, so you were just standing there in the middle of the room, somehow stranded.

you were walking in place because of impatience, when suddenly, you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist.

startled, you flinched at the sudden skin contact. your hyperawareness was at its peak since gojou satoru was just standing right behind you, you were very conscious of what the fuck he’s doing.

“oh. sorry, did i startle you?” he immediately pulled his hand away, raising it slightly.

'yes, insect, go away.'

“no. what is it?” you said in a rushed manner.

“are you in a hurry?” he asked. he wasn’t being sarcastic, but you wanted to punch him, nonetheless. why can’t he just let you be?

“can you stay?”

you felt your heart jump to your throat.

'what the fuck.'

all of a sudden, you can be compared to a statue. you were incredibly flustered, feeling all the blood flowing so fast in your body at his question.

now, the sexual tension, for you, has rose to very high levels, to the point that your tongue refuses to move.

you can’t even think straight right now.

“satoru, y/n, aren’t you two going to head out?” principal yaga indifferently asked, his head peeking on the door.

you didn’t know what to say in response, and gojou didn’t say anything either, so the principal only shrugged and closed the door behind him.

sighing, you internally thanked principal yaga for breaking the heavy atmosphere that was rapidly building up for you.

“i’ll get going, then.” you said, roughly pulling your hand away from satoru.

when you were already near the door, he suddenly appeared next to it and opened it for you.

with a small frown on your face, your mouth fell agape, what the fuck does he want?

it’s not like it’s the first time someone has ever showed you this kind of attention. it’s just simple and basic interaction. you were just getting all worked up because it’s gojou satoru. gorgeous fucking shit.

the heck is he opening the door for?

he's someone who you can't even call a gentleman. he always carefully chose the people he'll be nice to. a pretty woman can trip in front of him, and he won't bother giving two shits, he won't help her if he doesn't feel like it. he's the type to not respect old people just because they're old people.

but the thing is, you do know he’s not a bad person. he’s just... rude and annoying, and has his own way in doing stuff, but he’s actually a good person. his intentions are harmless, you know it.

nonetheless, you still don't want any personal involvement with him.

however, your own body is telling you otherwise.

the warmth that was increasingly becoming unbearable down your core is starting to reach its limits, as well as the rational part in you. so, as if you weren’t trying your very best to avoid him just a few seconds ago, you closed the door with your own hand, “what is it?”

you were thinking, maybe he just wants to talk about something in private. maybe it's nothing bed-related. maybe you were just overthinking.

“do you want me to get straight to the point?” he asked with lidded eyes, looking down on you intensely.

actually, at this point, you were sure. your theory is absolutely correct. he’s definitely giving you the bedroom eyes.

holy shit.

he bends down to your level, his face just a few inches away from yours.

“i want you.”

satoru says this with such intensity that you had to pause for a second to swallow the lump that got caught in your throat.

the longer you look into his eyes, the more you want to succumb to the hints of pleasure that was starting to build up down there.

but first of all, you had to at least clear this up. you needed to be sure. maybe it’s just a misunderstanding on your part.

“want me? uh, what exactly do you want from me?”

gojou noticed that your question was completely innocent, it had no underlying meaning.

he pulls away, removing his shades to examine your face carefully, amusement painted on his features.

at the same time, you also get the chance to scan his face. he sure is handsome. his eyes are so fucking beautiful, you could get lost in it.

the man probably has no idea that you have zero experience in these kind of... activities. though, to him, you seemed like someone carefree and wild. it's probably because sometimes, you sounded like a thirsty hoe when talking about crushes with friends. little does he know that all of your knowledge just came from watching and reading.

you were expecting him to get annoyed, to just walk away, and look for someone else out there to indulge him. but to your surprise, he chuckled.

'is he making fun of me right now?'

gojou finds it amusing... and cute, even, that you can make casual talk in a situation like this. he knew that you were trying to reassure yourself.

the sexual tension between the two of you was just so thick, it has been building up so fast ever since you and gojou made eye contact.

it sounds absurd, but it’s true.

"is it alright if i kiss you?" he simply said, giving you the reassurance that you needed.

eyes widening, your mouth dropped slightly at the question.

maybe your heart jumped a little at the request and the gentleness his tone gave off, who knows.

"if you don't want to--"

mind completely going blank, you rudely cut him off, pulling the neckline of his top to press your lips against his abruptly.

feeling him smirk against your mouth, you quickly pulled away in embarrassment, the realness of your actions suddenly sinking inside your brain.

you were about to head straight for the door as the rational part of you has realized that you actually kissed the fucking douchebag gojou satoru.

neither of you were even drunk, you should have known much better.

the plan was for naught, though, when said man’s long fingers wrapped around your face, gently making you look up at him as he bent down to reconnect his lips with yours.

satoru’s lips were softer than expected, and it moved smoothly against yours. the prick definitely knew what he was doing. so, without hesitating, you kiss him back, letting your lips mold together fervently.

he started kissing down your chin and onto your jaw, pausing just at the base below your ear, biting and sucking at the skin firmly.

you knew deep inside your mind that it was definitely going to leave a mark. but you decided to brush it off and just think about it later.

the rational part of you is screaming that you're going to regret this the next day. not even a drop of alcohol is in your system right now. you have absolutely zero excuses to use as to why you're actually giving in to full-of-shit-fuck-boy gojou satoru right now.

“the door is not locked, you know, we might get caught,” satoru whispers just right in front of your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine as he started to shamelessly grind against you.

right, you both were still at the meeting room.

“yeah. so, get the fuck off of me.” you said in a hushed tone.

despite the words that were coming out of your own mouth, you just stood there, stiff like a statue, feeling his member grow harder. you didn’t know if you wanted to push him away, or pull him closer.

well, at least it means that your self-control is still somehow working.

however, the warmth that was building up down your core was clouding your mind, making your body refuse to move.

you were about to enclose your arms around his neck, when a loud noise was made. you felt your heart drop to your gut, roughly pushing him away as your face started to lose all colors at the thought that there might be someone else at the place, and that you both might get caught.

"don't worry. that was just a rat." he mumbled, looking at you with bedroom eyes.

"h-how can you say for sure?"

with a smirk painted on his annoying face, he bends down once again, but this time, he placed his hands on the backside of your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "i'm gojou satoru."

with his smug reassurance, relief washed over you and calmed your panicked state.

this time, you were the one who crashed your mouth against his, successfully circling your arms around his neck this time.

you were incredibly turned on with everything. the position he has put you in is definitely not helping with you trying to resist him. fucking fuck boy.

when you finally noticed the presence of the aching heat that has grown too strong to ignore in between your legs, you grind your hips onto his, sighing at the much needed friction.

gojou groaning at the action has only worsened the situation. again, the rational part of you knows that you will regret this the next day, but at this point, you were already in too deep to even back out. well, maybe you aren't that deep yet, but yeah. you thought that you might as well just finish what you’ve already started, and save the regrets for later.

satoru sat down on the floor with his back on the wall, making it easy for you to move on top of him, with you straddling his hips.

feeling completely lost in how good it felt, your eyes shot open when his tongue went inside your mouth and met yours, sending a powerful wave of electrifying pleasure straight down to your core.

trying to muffle your moans to not stroke his ego was extremely difficult, especially when his hard cock keeps on rubbing your already sensitive clit through your panties and pants.

the friction was driving you mad, making you pull at his hair aggressively, as you grind on him harder and faster to make the most out of the pleasure.

you could say the same for satoru, his hands traveled down your body, landing on your ass to squeeze it firmly. he pushed you down even more, needy, as he thrusts his hips upward to grind his swollen cock on your pussy.

you looked at satoru, his beautiful blue eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.

"y/n... shit... more, please..." a deep groan escaped his lips as you roll your hips hard against his. "ngh, please do that again."

"l-let's make this quick, satoru, a-ah... i'm pretty close." you tried to say coherently, genuinely just wanting to reach your own release get this over with.

without hesitation, satoru starts thrusting his hips fast, picking up his pace. "as you wish. i'm close, too." he breathes, letting out a shaky sigh.

taking a close look at satoru, you see that his beautiful eyes were lidded, and focused only your face—as if he was trying to memorize the face that you were making.

the fact that you can make the arrogant and self-centered fuck boy, gojou satoru, beautiful man and strongest jujutsu sorcerer, pleading for pleasure is incredibly satisfying, and he hasn't even entered you yet. you both still have your clothes on, and you were only dry humping him, yet he was so fucking close to coming undone.

you closed your eyes in ecstasy, biting your bottom lip to at least try to muffle an incredibly loud moan, walls squeezing at nothing as you felt yourself come undone, wetness definitely soaking your panties.

satoru rubs himself onto you harder to make sure you ride your high to the fullest, his own thrusts losing rhythm, as he reaches for his own climax.

"you feel s-so good- ahh... fuck..." desperately surging forward rapidly a couple more times, he groans deeply as his seed shot out of his cock, and onto staining his loose white jogging pants.

it takes you a full minute to recover from what just happened. then you untangle your legs from his waist to stand up in front of him. "uh... bye?"

you turn around, heading straight for the door.

satoru follows you with his gaze. "that was great, y/n."

looking back, the two of you only stared at each other. "you didn't even get to put it in yet, satoru." you said, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

a blush blossomed on his face, embarrassment evident. "shut up, y/n."

"okay. bye."

"wanna do it again?"

"no."

and then you dashed out of the room, sick feeling of regret suddenly starting to bubble over your head.

but at the same time, you also feel sick at the fact that maybe you actually liked it.

#gojou satoru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #omg what have i done #pls i might rewrite this #like rlly #literal word vomit #just a spur of the moment..... bcs gojou satoru........... !!!!#this rlly escalated fast LOL #might edit

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agentsoftie · 4 years ago

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Sleepless Nights ( S.R )

summary: Reid and Y/N aren’t the most fond of each other. So what happens when they can’t sleep, have to share a bed, and be married.

pairing: Spencer Reid and female reader

a/n: AHH okay so here it is! It’s my first au so it’s probably not the best. But big thanks to @anepiphany! Ani baby none of this would be happening without you! Thank you for you tips and making me not go insane! Also pls tell me if I slept something wrong cuz like, your girl not the best when it comes to it. Also there will def be a loophole somewhere in my case and if you find one, just let it slide because life is filled with loopholes ❤️ also this is gonna be a two parter!

warnings: mentions of a case, little angst (like the smallest amount), fluff really though

remember to like and reblog!!

You were always the type of person that got along with everyone. And by everyone you meant everyone. You were a people pleaser, always changing your personality for someone. To the security guard, you were a sports junkie, always catching the latest games. To the guy who worked at the bookshop, you were the classical girl. And to the barista, you were the girl who was always late but always paid 3 dollars extra tip. But Dr. Spencer Reid was the only exception. 6’1 and standing tall. Mr. Eidetic Memory and 187 IQ but oh God how you cared for him. You loved him, you loved him more than all the moons in the galaxy. But him? He hated you, so naturally, you hated him too. As the saying goes, if you can't beat them, join them.

“Guys we got a new case,” Garcia says.

You walked into the room and sat to the seat closest to the front where Garcia would be since she was your best friend. Ironically that was the seat farthest from Reid.

“Okay, so this is Mira Normen and her husband John Normen. They had gotten married 2 months prior to their deaths. Mira was 25 years old and she was a teacher at the local middle school. John was 26 and he ran a local pet grooming business. As you can see, but not me for obvious reasons, they were both stabbed once in their chest and then once in their thigh. Mira was shot once in the heart and once in the head and John was shot twice in the heart and twice in the throat. The M.E. found a ring stuffed into both of their throats. And not the cheap kind, I mean a year's worth of salary for one of us.”

“Okay, so this guy’s rich,” You said.

“Yeah, no shit sherlock,” Reid said.

“Guys,” Hotch said in a stern voice “Garcia do we know anything else?”

“Yes actually. They were both last spotted at an event for rich people. So like something Rossi would go to.” She said, chuckling at the last part.

“You and I both know very well that I do not go to those kinds of events. I stay at home for god sakes.” Rossi says causing you and a couple of other people to chuckle.

“Why does this case sound so familiar?” JJ asks, breaking the chuckles.

“Well there was a case exactly like this a couple of years back if my memory is correct, which it always is. We tried to solve it but we just couldn't so it ended up as a cold case.” Reid said.

“And everythings the same?” JJ asked.

“Yep, everything. Well except the city.” Reid said.

“Great, well i think we got everything. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch says while getting up.

-------

You sat alone, like always. At first everyone was concerned, like they had done something, but they then soon realized that you just liked to be alone and this was really the only time.

“Okay, so I checked if anyone had moved in the years and I have 5 names. Thomas Maddison, Stephanie June, Eliza Honeycutt, Devi Paradise, and Klaus Hiller. And only one moved to our little town and that would be Miss Eliza Honeycutt.” Garcia said.

“Can you ch-” Morgan was saying but got cut off when she said

“Already did ‘Hot Chocolate’. Miss Eliza moved a total of 3 months after the case. Looks like it was due to a messy divorce. Her and Mr. Maddison had not been going strong for the last couple of months and it looks like they decided to call quits just before you guys came to town.”

“Can you-” Morgan started to say but then was again cut off by Garcia.

“Already got you babes. The address should be sent to your tablets.” Everyone was still looking at her, “that means look at your tablets.” She says while gesturing her hands making them look down.

“We got it babygirl,” Morgan said without being interrupted.

“Great! Now, this is the time I leave and let you amazing little people do your jobs!” And with that, she was out and so were you.

-------

It was 10 pm when you got to the hotel. You weren't exhausted but you definitely were not in the mood to solve a murder or multiple in this case. You all had checked in now was your favorite time of all choosing rooms. You never bunked with anyone unless Garcia, but that's if she ever came on a case. Emily and JJ were already gone, same with Hotch and Rossi. You were about to grab the key for the single room but Morgan got it before you.

“Sorry hot stuff, I need room alone this time.”

“What!? Why!?”

“I don't need to explain myself to you Y/N,” Moran says, and just like that he was gone.

You and Reid grabbed the keys without looking at each other and walked in the elevator. You both did not make any eye contact until you got into the room. There was only one bed. You immediately called room service but they said that there were no more rooms available so you two were stuck with that one.

“Okay, which one of us is gonna sleep on the floor?” you heard Reid say.

“Excuse me,?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh stop being such a baby Reid. We both know that if you don't sleep on a bed or something remotely similar you get all grumpy and get headaches all day. And if I don't sleep on a bed or something similar I get high on caffeine and get paranoid. So for the sake of the team, we are gonna sleep on the goddamn bed together!”

He didn't know you paid attention to him like that. Sure everyone knew that he would get grumpy, but headaches? No one, not even JJ. He didn't like to tell people about them fearing of being babied around even more than he already is. Although he did know that whenever you don't get enough sleep not only do you high on caffeine, but you have nightmares. You never told anyone except Garcia of course. He’d realized that you had nightmares after a group holiday to Rossi’s beach house, he heard you talking in your sleep and there were not good things being said.

“Okay geez fine whatever. Are you gonna go shower first, or am I”

“Me obviously,” you say while getting your clothes.

The water was hot when you got in, just how you like it. You started to soak your hair in the water needing to cool down a little and prepare yourself for the days ahead of you. All you could think about was sharing the same bed with him. With the guy, you're in love with but doesn’t know. And will never know.

After 30 minutes you got out of the shower and changed. You wore a pair of shorts and a loose flowy t-shirt which you had knotted after putting it on because it was too big. After you brushed your teeth, did your skincare, and brushed your hair.

“Finally, how long does it take?” You heard Reid say while you were walking out of the bathroom. He didn't look up until you sat on the bed turning the tv on.

“It takes 40 minutes Reid, it always takes 40 minutes. But you would never know because you've never had a girl stay over,”

“Oh, you're so funny aren't you,” he says in an annoyed way.

“Yeah, I am.” You said smirking while looking up expecting to see him annoyed but instead greeted with a small smile which was then washed away quickly by the sound of his voice.

“Okay, I'm gonna go take a shower now. Don't wait up.”

“ I won't, don't worry.” You say while he goes into the bathroom. You swear you saw him smile. It may have been small but it was there.

-------

“You waited for me.” You hear while turning off the tv. He was wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. His hair was an absolute mess, and you could tell that he had to take a shower in not the hottest water.

“Ha, yeah no. You took like 10 minutes, did you think I was gonna fall asleep in 10 minutes.”

“Yeah well, that's what happens when you take up most of the hot water.”

“I'm sorry, you should have gone in the shower first.”

“You wanted to go into the shower first!”

“Okay and? Look, can we just go to bed or something? We have a long ass day ahead of us.”

You felt the bed dip and got chills all over. He didn't seem to notice, thankfully. You were cold, but not cold enough to want to layer up. You looked over and the time and it read 11:15. You tried to sleep, but you just couldn't. So again you looked over and read 11:39, and then it was 12:06. You felt like you were going insane.

“Why are you still up?” Reid said in a raspy voice while turning over to face you.

“Huh? Oh, um, I couldn't, can't sleep.”

“Ugh, fine come here.”

“What?” Before you could say anything he had wrapped his arm around you and forced you to nuzzle up against his chest. It actually felt pretty nice. You felt like you were on top of the world and that everything was going to be okay. You put your arm on him after processing what was happening. He then pulled you in closer and when you looked up at him you realized that he was knocked out, gone like a light in one of those horror movies. And before you realized it you were out too.

-------

“Y/L/N wake up,” is all you hear. The sun was barely out yet, so naturally, you just wanted to go back asleep.

“5 more minutes”

“Fine.” Although he didn't want to say anything or admit in this case. This was the best sleep that he’d gotten in a while. At first, he thought it was because of the way he slept but he then quickly realized that it was because of you. With your legs intertwined with his, one of your arms on his chest and the other in his hand. Your hair, so messy, yet so perfect at the same time and he would give anything to fall back asleep with you. He was in love. He was in love and was falling, falling harder than ever.

“Y/N, come on it's been 10 minutes. We need to go, get up.”

“What? Oh. Wait, fuck, what time is it?” You say in your very raspy yet airy morning voice.

“6:13, now we have to get ready or we will be late.”

You didn't want to get up, you really didn't. You wanted this moment to never end, but sadly time was not on your side for this one. “We never speak of last night, got it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Its agent.”

-------

“Miss Honeycutt, hi I’m Agent Y/L/N,” You say while sitting down for the interrogation.

“Hi yeah, why am I here?”

“Oh, no one’s told you yet?’

“Well yes the people who rudely (italicize) came into my home said something but I wasn’t really listening.”

“Oh okay then. You're here as a suspect for multiple murders.” Her face was in total and utter shock. “There has been a murder recently that connects to a murder that took place back a couple of years ago. You lived there when it had happened and then you moved. And now you’re here because a murder played out exactly that same way as the one that took place in the past.”

“Look, I have a valid reason for moving-”

“Divorce I know.”

“Yes, well you don’t know the reason.”

“Oh, and what would that be?”

“I was cheating on him, Thomas. He found out and then immediately filed for divorce.”

“Huh, is that so. Well, you kno-” You were cut off by the sound of the one and the only doctor himself.

“Y/L/N can I please speak to you.”

“Um yeah.” You walk outside of the interrogation room to face him. “What is it?”

“I don't think she did it. The way she’s reacting to all of this is way too natural to fake and she still hasn't called for a lawyer to be present. Normally in these types of situations the un-sub mostly always calls for a lawyer or anyone in that case.”

“I know, I know, I know. But she mentioned an ex-husband that could help us with this case.”

“So what you're just gonna “interrogate” her until she starts to talk about her former husband, or just talk about that and only that as a whole?”

“Yes, precisely.”

“You amaze me Y/N,” this was the first time he said your name in conversation naturally and not because he was forced to for an undercover assignment and shit. Well except for this morning but you can't decide if that was a small little fever dream or actual life so it doesn't count.

“And I you Spencer.” He noticed, oh he noticed and his heart practically burst from his chest because of the serotonin he got when you said his name. It was like every time you said his name an angel got its wings.

-------

“Hey Garcia, could you dig a little deeper on our little Thomas Maddison?” You ask her.

“Of course pumpkin. Okay so here's what I got. Thomas Maddison born May 30th leaving him to be a Gemini and you know how I feel about those. He moved from our fun little town too, well, um,-” was what she said before being cut off by Emily.

“What do you mean by ‘um’ Garcia?” She said with a puzzled expression.

“Well, ‘um’ means he disappeared from the face of Earth. Completely gone. No new dental records, no new home, I mean, not even a simple receipt. It’s like he just clicked ‘erase all’ after the divorce.”

“Is that even possible?” I ask.

“Well yes, but you have to literally become a new person for that to happen.”

“Garcia look into anything in his life that could possibly lead him to have hundreds of thousands of dollars,” Reid said.

“Okay, so it says here in one article that he owned a local jewelry store that got burned down around that time of the divorce. The local paper wrote it off as an accident but everyone thought he wanted to skip town after the divorce so he would just take all of the insurance money. Which I guess is kind of true. Um but anyway, yeah that’s really the only explanation. His parents didn't leave him that much money in the will, and he wasn't a drug dealer.”

“Okay, thanks hun! You've been of more help then you know. Call Hotch and everyone else in. I think we got the profile.” You said before ending the call.

* literally 5 or 6 minutes later *

“Okay, so the guy we’re looking for is very popular with the people. He always tries to make everything about himself. Your classic narcissist.” Hotch starts off with.

“This guy hates love though. He never brings up the topic and hates it when people bring it up. And although he hates love, he looks like the guy who could pick anyone he wanted, although he relatively picks on younger women.” JJ adds.

“Yes, and this guy is going to be a white caucasian male. Most likely in his late 20 or early 30s. And he is going to have wealth and will show it off as often as he can.” Emily says.

“Any questions” you heard Hotch ask.

“There’s an event tomorrow just like the one that Mira and John attended. Will he be there? And if so, do you think he will attack again? And if yes then what will do?” You see an officer asking.

“Well yes, we heard of that and already planned everything out. Tomorrow night Agent Y/L/N and DR.Reid will be attending the event.” Rossi said.

You were in complete shock, and frankly so was Reid. You guys never agreed to this, and as much as I love black tie events, they aren't really my cup of tea when there can possibly be a serial killer there. Not to mention the guy I fucking love more than anyone in the world would be there, with me (italicize). Like now I have to look badass and sexy (italicize) at the same time, although that wouldn't be that hard you thought to yourself.

“Guys, can Reid and I please talk to you all in private.” You give Rossi and Hotch very unobvious yet obvious death stares.

“Yeah, now please.” He says.

* again like 2 or 3 minutes later *

“Um hello, last time I never agreed to this and by the look on Reid’s face, neither did he.”

“Y/N you heard, our unsub likes younger women,” Derek says,

“Okay well then just send in Emily, or JJ, or both in that case.” You say in an angry tone.

“Oh baby, you think we're young? Were flattered but no. Sadly out of all of us, you look the youngest, and are the youngest.” JJ says while laughing along with Emily.

“And for you Reid, you out of most people should know that the murders happened between young lovers who got married. And Derek doesn’t call you pretty boy for nothing. Rossi says following JJs statement.

“We really aren't getting out of this one huh?” He asks.

“No. Now it's late so I want you all to get a good night's rest and be ready tomorrow. Reid and Y/L/N you guys can sleep in a little but you'll have to be ready by 4:30.” Hotch says. And with that, everyone goes back to their rooms.

“I fell in love the way you fall asleep; slowly, then all at once” – John Green, The Fault in our Stars

Part two coming tomorrow!

#so lets hope you like it #thanks to ani though #none of this would be happening without her #so thank you ani baby 🥺💕#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #mira writes

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ponykidcurtis · 4 years ago

Text

i need a hero (to lift away)

hurt/comfort bingo fic for @guamgirl10150

“I wanna be superman for halloween this year, dad,” Chris announces as they’re leaving the theater. Buck had found a showing of a few of the older Superman movies, and suggested to Eddie that Christopher might like them, since he liked the newer ones so much. Eddie agreed, so Buck bought three tickets to an evening screening of the 1978 Superman and insisted they make a day of it—lunch, some time at the arcade in the mall, dinner, and then to the theater around the corner for the movie.

“Yeah, bud?” Eddie says, smiling down at his son. “I think we could manage that.”

“But I wanna be this one,” Chris insists, slowing as he cranes his neck to look up at Eddie, then Buck.

“You like him better than the new one?” Buck asks, slowing to match Chris’ pace.

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, “Dad says— dad says he’s your favourite. So I wanna be him.”

Buck beams, catching Eddie’s eye with a raised eyebrow, before reaching over to ruffle Christopher’s curls.

“You’re my favourite superman, buddy,” he says. Chris grins.

It’s dark out by now, later than they’re usually out with Chris, but they’d made an exception for the movie. Eddie had parked a little farther from the theater than he might have liked, because the mall parking lot had been nearly full when they came in. He’d tried to find a closer spot, but Chris had gotten tired of his circling and insisted he could walk the distance just fine—so they’d left the truck where they could find a spot, and made their way the one block down to the theater. Now they keep a steady pace as they head back to the truck, strolling along beside Chris as he walks between them.

“Oh, shoot,” Eddie mutters suddenly, patting at his pockets and starting to look concerned.

“What’s up?” Buck asks. Eddie frowns.

“I think I left my phone in the theater,” Eddie groans, checking his jacket pockets a second time just to make sure. “Must’ve fallen out while we were watching, or something.”

“Do you want me to—” Buck starts. Eddie shakes his head before he can even finish the question.

“No, I think I remember where we were sitting. I'll just run back and grab it," Eddie says, already turning to head back the way they came. "You guys go ahead to the truck, I'll meet you there?"

“Sure,” Buck agrees. Eddie smiles and jogs off, leaving Buck with Chris and their bag of leftover popcorn.

“Alright, buddy,” Buck says, when Eddie turns the corner out of sight. “Let’s keep moving! Don’t want to still be standing here when your dad gets back, do we?”

He gets Chris moving again with a light pat on the shoulder. It’s not far to the truck from here—a quick cut through the alley a little ways ahead, and they’ll be in the parking lot where they left it.

The streetlights don't cast their glow very far past the entrance, and the alley has no lights of its own, but even in the dark Buck can make out two figures leaning against the alley wall near the other end. Buck isn't sure why that makes him hesitate, because really, it's only a few steps and then they're through to the next street over. They can pass those men by, and they’re most likely harmless. Maybe it’s because he has Chris—on his own, he wouldn’t think twice. It’s just an alleyway. But with Christopher…

If he goes with his gut, they’ll have to walk another block to get to a proper cross-street, and Chris is already yawning. The kid is tired, and it’s just an alleyway. It’s probably just two college kids. He’s being paranoid. So he ignores the feeling, and turns the corner into the dark gap between the buildings with Chris babbling along next to him. The kid doesn’t seem to have noticed his hesitation at all.

They step past the glow of the streetlight. Chris shuffles a little closer to Buck’s side, but keeps talking. Buck keeps them moving as his eyes adjust to the dim light of the alley, and yeah, maybe he’s being a little protective—but it’s justified, because this is his friend’s kid. He’s allowed to be paranoid if it keeps Chris safe.

The thing is, he’s so focused on getting Chris through the alley as fast as possible that he doesn’t notice the two men falling silent, or sizing them up as they approach. It’s not until Chris goes quiet that Buck realizes something is wrong. He frowns down at him, confused by the sudden change, and when he looks back up he has to do a double take—because one of the men steps out in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nice night for a walk,” the man says, hands in his pockets. His voice is friendly, but there’s an edge to it that’s making Buck nervous, and he’s blocking their way forward.

“For sure,” Buck says, politely. “Sorry man, we’re just trying to get through to our car, but you have a good night, yeah?”

He flashes a smile and reaches behind to put his hand protectively on Christopher’s shoulder, before moving to try and step past the man in front of him. The man steps back with him, staying in his way.

"Nah," he says, "I don't think we're done here."

The second man pushes off the wall and steps in behind them, effectively cutting off the other end of the alleyway. There's nowhere to go, no way out of the alley without shoving past one or both of these men, and Buck's adrenaline picks up as he starts to realize this shortcut to the truck might have been a really, really bad idea.

They're not large men, and at least one of them is trembling faintly like he's coming down from some sort of high. If he'd been on his own, Buck could probably take them on if he had to. But he's got Christopher to think of—he's not about to even entertain the thought of this kid getting hurt.

"Look, guys—" Buck starts, holding a hand up placatingly.

The quiet snick of a switchblade opening cuts Buck off as the first man steps a little closer. His eyes widen at the sight of metal, glinting in the faint light, and his adrenaline kicks up a notch higher. This shortcut to the truck was, without a doubt, a really bad idea.

"Bucky…" Chris whines quietly, pressed up tight behind Buck and clinging desperately to his leg. He squeezes gently with the hand still resting on Christopher's shoulder, hoping it feels reassuring. Buck isn't sure he knows what's happening, but he knows enough to be scared. Buck is scared too.

"Bucky," the guy mocks, and Buck has to grit his teeth at the way it sounds coming out of his mouth. Wrong. Then the guy holds out a hand and says, "wallet."

“Okay, okay,” Buck agrees quickly. He reaches slowly for his back pocket, keeping his eye on the knife the whole time.

“This is taking too long, man,” the other one says. He’s looking a little jittery now, only half-focused, and he keeps glancing back down the alley like he’s afraid someone will come up behind him.

“Hurry up,” the one with the knife hisses, nostrils flaring. His fingers twitch on the handle. They’re getting skittish. The longer they stay in this alley, the more likely they are to be caught, and they clearly know it. Buck stalls for barely a second, but a jerk of the knife in his direction has him pulling his wallet out and tossing it into the man’s waiting hand without another moment of hesitation.

“And your phone,” demands the second man. The one with his wallet doesn’t even bother rooting through it, just shoves it in his pocket and turns his attention back to the pair in front of him.

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to—”

“Just give us the damn phone!”

Chris clings tighter to Buck’s leg, shaking, and Buck doesn’t know what to do. Everything feels too slow and too much and Buck doesn’t know what to do.

Somewhere down the street, a man starts to whistle.

Buck doesn’t know if it’s Eddie, even if it sounds like it is. Would he be on his way back by now? He must be, right? As much as Buck wants him here, he also doesn’t want him anywhere near this mess.

“Too slow,” the man with the knife says, before Buck can even reach into his pocket. The sound of another person must have spooked them. “Maybe I can give ya’ some incentive?”

He reaches a hand out towards Chris, and Buck’s world snaps back into focus. Chris cringes back from the hand and bursts into tears.

“Don’t touch him!” Buck snarls.

He couldn’t tell you in perfect detail what happened after that—things speed up, too fast and disorienting to make sense of. He knows that he steps between Chris and the guy. He knows he bats the hand away that was reaching for Chris. He knows that both men startle at the movement, and the one with the knife reacts almost instinctively with a punch to Buck’s gut. Or at least, it feels like a punch. He stumbles briefly, looks up to meet the man’s eyes, wide with disbelief. They stare at each other for a moment.

Then the second man is muttering, “shit, shit, we gotta go!”

Buck thinks he hears his name being called, but things are starting to slip out of focus. He blinks, surprised when it feels a little sluggish. He’s fine, right? He can take a punch.

Chris is crying, the full-on heaving sobs of a terrified nine-year-old. Buck wants to comfort him, reach out and tell him that they’re fine now, they’re safe, but he can’t seem to get his arms to move. He’s just standing there, staring, like his brain hasn’t caught up to the rest of his body yet.

And then Eddie skids around the corner, his phone clutched in his hand, winded like he’s been running and clearly having heard at least the tail end of the altercation, if the expression on his face is anything to go by. His eyes lock on Chris first, and he drops to his knees to take him in his arms, muttering reassurances and shushing his cries as soon as he knows he’s unharmed.

“What happened, Buck?” Eddie asks sharply, still looking at Christopher. Buck doesn’t answer. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Pain pulses across Buck’s stomach, and he sways, then brings a slow hand up to clutch at it and try to ease the ache.

“Buck?” Eddie prompts again, brow furrowing. He looks up this time, and when his eyes land on Buck, the colour drains from his face. “Oh god, Buck, you’re bleeding—”

“Huh?” Buck blinks again. Eddie’s words register in his head after a long moment, and he glances down at himself. He lifts a bloodied, shaking hand and stares, and stares.

“...oh,” he mutters. Distantly, he hears Eddie talking, and the dial tone of a phone. He’s losing focus again, the world turning blurry at the edges.

“I gotta...I think I gotta...s-sit down,” Buck slurs. He doesn’t even know who he’s saying it to. He staggers, barely catching himself against the wall and sliding down to the pavement. He clutches at the wound again, moaning pitifully as the pain mounts.

Eddie returns, though Buck can’t get his thoughts in order enough to wonder where he’d gone. He drops to his knees and balls up his jacket against Buck’s stomach, lifting Buck’s half-limp hand out of the way to press down hard against the wound with his own.

Buck chokes out a whine when the pain doubles with the pressure, a burning, white hot agony. Stars burst across his vision and he reaches out instinctively to push Eddie away, to get him to stop, because it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Eddie is saying, when Buck manages to come back to himself, but he doesn’t let up. Buck pushes at him again, weakly, panting from the pain and the effort of moving. Eddie just catches his hand instead, tightening his fingers around Buck’s reassuringly.

“Chris,” Buck mumbles. The world blurs again, and he blinks to clear it. “Christ’pher….where’s—”

“He’s okay,” Eddie answers, “scared, but okay. And you will be too, alright? Ambulance is on the way.”

Buck stares up at him, taking too long for the words to register. He blinks again, heavy and slow, and it’s almost too much effort to keep his gaze locked on Eddie’s. Chris is okay. Chris is okay. That’s all that matters.

Eddie squeezes his hand a little tighter. His grip is grounding, and it’s probably the only thing keeping Buck tethered right now, when all he wants to do is let reality slip away.

He’s so tired.

“Eyes open, man,” Eddie snaps. “You’re not dying in front of my kid, you hear me?”

Buck just hums quietly, too exhausted to form words. Eddie presses harder against his wound, but he barely feels it anymore. The pain has faded, leaving behind a spreading numbness, cold to the tips of his fingers.

The blaring wail of the ambulance splits the night, finally. It can’t take more than a few minutes to get to them after that, but it feels like hours. It feels like years. Time oozes away from him, and he can’t count the seconds but he can count Eddie’s whispered assurances, telling him over and over that he’s going to be fine. Buck holds on to that as the ambulance pulls up, as the paramedics take Eddie’s place, as he hears Chris start to cry again somewhere Buck can’t see and Eddie reaches his free hand out to comfort him.

The paramedics must recognize them, because Buck hears one of them say to Eddie, “We’ve got him, Diaz. Take care of your kid.”

He’s fading in and out, barely conscious now, and the next thing he knows he’s being moved towards the waiting ambulance. Eddie’s hand drops from his and the absence makes him colder.

"Eddie?" Buck asks dazedly. Somewhere above him, a voice answers, "Right behind us, kid. He'll meet you there."

And then the doors are closing. The ambulance jolts into motion, and the piercing scream of the siren is the last thing Buck hears before the world slides sideways into darkness.

~~~~~

Buck wakes to the blank ceiling of a darkened hospital room and his first thought is: Christopher. His second thought is: Eddie?

“Right here,” a low voice says from next to him. Buck rolls his head to the side to see Eddie, smiling gently at him from one of the shitty hospital chairs by the bed.

“Said that out loud?” Buck asks. It’s only half a question and his voice sounds rough, but Eddie understands. He always does.

“Yeah,” he chuckles quietly. And before Buck can properly ask, he says, “Chris is here too. Asleep. One of the nurses brought us one of those roll-away bed things.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s just fine. Not a scratch on him,” Eddie assures him, “Just scared.”

“I scared him,” Buck says. Eddie nods, offers half a smile.

“You scared me too,” he says, “But you kept him safe. Thank you.”

Instead of answering, Buck reaches out a shaky hand, and Eddie grabs it. It steadies him, just like it had earlier.

“I’m okay too, right?” Buck asks.

“You are,” Eddie nods. And then he adds, voice wavering, “You almost weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Eddie responds, and his smile returns. “Let’s just park closer to the theater next time, okay?”

Buck laughs, even though it hurts. His eyelids droop, and Eddie snorts softly.

“Go back to sleep, man,” he says, “you need it.”

“You’ll stay?” Buck asks, even as his eyes fall shut.

“We’re not going anywhere without you,” Eddie says. Buck smiles sleepily.

“Good,” he says. As he drifts off again, he tightens his fingers slightly around Eddie’s, and Eddie squeezes back.

(buy me a coffee?)(AO3)

#b!writes #eddie diaz #evan buckley #hurt/comfort bingo #fic #911 fox #911 fic #userbeff #userlukas #userdee #tusera #sunshinestrand #usermaddiee #idk who else to tag but just read it

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mccnyoongi · 5 years ago

Text

buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate.

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey, you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor.

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman.

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not.

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you.

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive.

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention. You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.”

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy.

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs.

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties.

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist.

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks.

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess.

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting.

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt.

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit.

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.”

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him.

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?”

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans. If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture.

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick.

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm.

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe.

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable.

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon.

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year.

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

#bts smut #btswritingcafe #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #buttercup #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts fanfiction #bts oneshot #bts writing #def not my best work but u know JKFDHKJFHS

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

all for a 56-pack of crayons

Prompt which has obviously been a little modified because of who I am as a person: “I was bartending at an Italian restaurant and it’s pretty much full of valentine dates. A guy walks in and sits at the bar by himself. He had come to the city to surprise his girlfriend for valentine’s day (about a five-hour bus trip between cities) and he sure surprised her. she was in her dorm room fucking one of his friends from high school”

so @shireness-says sent me the above prompt a dreadfully long time ago, and I was going to write it for her birthday. I missed that date by a few weeks, but who doesn’t love a late birthday gift? Keeping the party going! 🎉

found on ao3 | here |

-/-

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“This,” Emma says, motioning out to all of the people in front of her. “People can go on dates every day of the year, but everyone in all of Portland is here tonight.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mary Margaret sighs, a goofy little smile on her face that’s always there when she’s talking or thinking about love. It’d be obnoxious if she wasn’t so damn charming. Or nice. Charming is really more of David’s thing. “People like to go on dates on Valentine’s Day.”

“Because it’s a – ”

“Societal construct. Yes, I know. You’ve said that once or twice.”

Emma rolls her eyes and grabs the bottle of wine she was looking for. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you think proposing to your girlfriend on Valentine’s Day is romantic, you’ve got issues. There are a lot of days of the year, make another one of them special.”

“Emma.”

“I’ve got to go serve table ten. He’s got a ring being put in a dessert. Be right back.”

Mary Margaret isn’t behind the bar when Emma gets back. She’s probably off trying to help some teenagers flirt or listening to some couple’s love story. She’s very into romance and candy hearts and the whole big thing. It’s like this every year, but Emma can’t blame her, not really. Mary Margaret has been with David since they were fifteen years old, and her entire life is some kind of candy heart and giant teddy bear holding red roses world. There are obviously a few pieces of melted chocolate and fallen rose petals in there, but overall, she’s never had a reason to be sick of love and this holiday that just makes single people feel shitty about themselves.

“Whatever your strongest rum is, I want that.”

Emma turns to see a man sliding down at the barstool in front of her. No one is sitting up here tonight. Everyone is in the booths and at the tables, so what the hell is this guy doing up here?

Alone.

She quickly glances over him. He’s got on a white button-down, the top few buttons undone, and a leather jacket on top of it. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and Emma can’t tell whether he just doesn’t know how to do his hair or if he’s one of those guys who tries to artfully mess his hair up. From everything else about his looks, he’s definitely a guy who tries to do that.

You don’t look like him and wear a leather jacket if you don’t know you’re attractive.

The blue eyes alone could probably get half the girls in here into bed with him.

Woah, Emma.

That’s definitely taking her judgment of people a little too far.

“You don’t want something specific?” Emma asks him.

“Whatever can get me drunk.”

Emma’s brows raise, but she quickly tries to neutralize her face. She judges people all the time, but they can’t know that she judges them. She would lose her tips, and she needs those to live and to pay bills and to be able to buy Henry new shoes and the 56-pack of crayons he wants that has all of the specialized colors.

“I am technically not supposed to encourage a customer to get drunk, but I will get that rum for you.”

“Thank you, lass.”

Emma bends down and searches through their shelf of rum, pulling out a bottle that won’t break the guy’s bank but that tastes good enough, and pours him a glass. “You need anything else?”

“Do you serve food up here?”

“We do, but sir, if you’re here for a date, I’m afraid – ”

The man downs his drink before slamming the glass against the bar top. He winces and then adjusts the tumbler.

“I’m not here for a date. I’m simply here for some food and a few more glasses of rum.”

“I’m not supposed to let you have enough to get drunk. I wasn’t kidding about that.”

“Lucky for you, I have a high tolerance.”

Emma’s eyes roll, and she turns away to hide that before grabbing a menu off the shelf and then handing it to him. “You can look through this, and then when you’re ready, I’ll send your order back to the kitchen.”

“Thanks, love.”

“Not your love.”

Oh shit. She shouldn’t get snippy with him. She was just thinking about how she needs the tips.

56 pack of crayons and all.

“Sorry,” Emma mumbles. “Force of habit.”

“You have a lot of people call you love? I didn’t know there was such a British population in Portland.”

“I have a lot of people call me by pet names,” Emma corrects, forcing her smile back onto her face. “Baby, sweetheart, honey, whatever else men can come up with when they’re trying to hit on me.”

The man nods and places his hand on the counter. She glances down at the movement, notices the fact that he has a glove on just that one hand, and as much as she is curious, she’s sure as hell not about to ask. Her five-year-old might ask, but she’s decidedly not five and has better manners than that.

“I apologize, love. Fuck. Didn’t mean to say that.”

Emma chuckles and turns around to get him a glass of water. She should have already done that, but she got distracted. “It’s Emma. Emma Swan. I’m sorry for not telling you my name earlier. I should have as soon as you sat down. I seem to be off my game tonight.”

“Killian Jones.”

She turns around with his water and puts it down. “It’s nice to meet you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you.”

Emma stays busy for the next hour, serving drinks and doing the take-out orders, and while people come up to the bar, none of them stay. They’re here for a fleeting moment, getting what they need, and then going. She doesn’t mind. It’s busy enough in here that she never stays idle, and if she keeps working, this damn day will be over and she can go home, never thinking of engagement rings and candy hearts again.

A round of applause sounds around the restaurant, and Emma looks up to see a man on his knees and his girlfriend with her hands clasped over her mouth.

“Does that happen often?”

“Huh?”

“The proposal,” Killian explains. “Does that happen often?”

“I’d say we get a proposal in here every two weeks, but on Valentine’s Day? At least ten per shift.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Damn.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I take it you’re not a fan of Valentine’s Day.”

“I think it’s cliched, and I’m not really a fan of cliched.”

“Eh, I think it has its pros and cons. A few clichés are good.”

Emma crosses her arms over her chest. “Like what?”

“Surprises, maybe. If you’re in a long-distance relationship and you ride on a train for five-hours to surprise your girlfriend, I imagine that can be a nice, cliched thing.”

“Is that what you did?”

He drinks half of his glass before stabbing a piece of his steak. “Funnily enough, I did.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well, when I showed up to her apartment, she was fucking my oldest mate.”

Holy shit.

No wonder he wanted the strongest rum they have.

“You’re kidding? You have to be kidding.”

He scoffs and leans back on the stool, a smile curving on his lips while his eyelashes flutter. “I wish I was.”

Emma shakes her head and grabs his bottle, pouring a little more in his glass. “I’m cutting you off after this glass, but this one’s on me.”

“You don’t have to do that, Swan.”

“Look, I may hate Valentine’s Day, but no one deserves that when they were trying to do something romantic. Hell, no one ever deserves that. Unless maybe they’re an asshole.”

“I guess I’m an asshole.”

“I don’t know you well enough to say for sure, but I doubt it.”

“How would you know?”

Emma shrugs. “I call it my superpower. I’ve got an intuition about these types of things.”

“It’s true. She does.” Mary Margaret steps up beside her and leans forward on the counter. “So, I couldn’t help but overhear your story.”

“Marg – ”

Mary Margaret waves her away. “First of all, I’m so sorry. Secondly, I bet you don’t have a place to stay tonight, so why don’t you stay with us?”

Oh hell no.

“Marg,” Emma hisses, pulling Mary Margaret away from the counter and back against the shelves, “what the hell are you doing?”

“He was going to stay with his girlfriend tonight, but now they’ve broken up.”

“He can stay in a hotel.”

“That’ll be so expensive. Come on. We have a couch.”

“I don’t want to have to spend the night with a stranger. That’s not safe.”

“David is a cop.”

“He doesn’t know that. He could still plan on murdering us.”

“Well, I suppose I do now,” Killian says. She and Mary Margaret both turn on their heels to look at him. “Sorry. You’re not exactly in a discreet spot. I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer, lass. I don’t – you’re too kind, but I can’t accept it.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret begs.

“No.”

“Emma.”

“No.”

“I’m Mary Margaret,” she suddenly says, turning to Killian and shaking his hand. “You’ve had a rough night, obviously, and I think you need some homemade brownies. Let me call my boyfriend, and I’ll clear it with him.”

“What about Emma?”

“Ignore her. She’s paranoid that everyone is a serial killer.”

“She has a point.”

“You’re not a serial killer. We can both tell.”

“Love, I really – I cannot impose on you.”

Emma blinks at him, wondering why the hell British people use so many pet names. She’s not sure what the hell is happening. Why is Mary Margaret inviting him to their apartment? Why is she so insistent on it? This isn’t the first time someone has stumbled into the restaurant wanting to get drunk because something shitty has happened, and it certainly won’t be the last.

But Mary Margaret is Mary Margaret, and Emma guesses she’s going to sleep in Henry’s room with the door locked and his dresser pushed up against the door.

Not that she thinks this is a bad guy.

But precautions and all that. She’s not naïve enough to think that everyone she meets is going to be a good person, and she’s not taking a single chance when it comes to Henry.

“You wouldn’t be imposing in the slightest. Our shift finishes at midnight.”

Emma turns around to Mary Margaret and hisses, “if he murders us, I’m coming back to life to kill you again.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

-/-

“So, what do you do?”

“David,” Mary Margaret sighs. “Don’t make him uncomfortable.”

“He’s sleeping on our couch. I can ask him what he does.”

“Be nice.”

“I’m getting my Masters in Civil Engineering at NYU.”

Emma lets out a low whistle before catching herself. Damn. That’s impressive, especially considering she’s currently in a bunch of lit classes with eighteen-year-olds who couldn’t care less about the classes they’re in. They also complain about having class at eight in the morning and then finishing all of their classes by noon, but, really, she can’t be bothered by them too much. If her life had gone the way theirs had, she imagines she would complain about being up at eight in the morning, too.

Hell, she does now. Just for entirely different reasons.

“Something to say about that, love?” Killian asks, both brows raised.

She bites her tongue at the name. He’s been letting them fly for both she and Mary Margaret all night, so it really must be a force of habit and not him trying to get into her pants.

“Not a thing.”

“So what do you plan on doing with that?” David asks Killian.

“Well, I am planning on – ”

“Mom.”

Oh shit.

Emma turns around and sees Henry standing in the hallway. He’s in his pajamas, his hair pushed up from where he’s been sleeping, and he only has one sock on. How the hell does that always happen?

“Kid, what are you doing awake?”

“You guys are loud. Who’s that?”

Emma looks between Henry and Killian, trying to figure out how the hell to explain this to a child.

“A friend,” she quickly answers. “He’s going to sleep on the couch tonight before he leaves in the morning to go back home.”

“Where is he from?”

“New York.”

“How do you know him?”

“Alright,” Emma sighs, going toward Henry and gently placing her hands on his shoulders before guiding him back to his room, closing the door behind them. “It’s late, and you need to go back to bed. We’re going to the playground in the morning, remember?”

“The TV man said it was going to snow.”

“Well, when has a little snow ever stopped us?”

She gets Henry back in bed and cuddles up beside him, tucking him in and fixing his hair before kissing his forehead and sighing. She’s exhausted, desperately needs to be in her own bed, but that probably won’t happen tonight.

“Did you have a good day at school?” Emma whispers while she still strokes Henry’s hair.

“Mhm.”

“Did you give your cards to your class?”

“Yep! Can I eat my candy?”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m going to say no to that one. You’ll get far too much energy, and then you’d have to brush your teeth again.”

“Nooo,” Henry giggles, squirming as Emma runs her fingers over his belly. “I don’t want to brush my teeth again.”

“Then I guess candy will have to wait for the morning.”

Henry sighs and shifts in his bed, burying his face into his pillow. He’s quiet, so Emma doesn’t say anything, hoping that maybe he’s going to fall asleep easily. Henry’s going to be in a mood in the morning. She can already tell. Hopefully, and it is a big hope, he’ll sleep in.

There’s almost a 100% certainty that he won’t.

“Is that man your boyfriend?”

Emma nearly chokes on her own tongue.

“What?”

Henry twists around until she can see his face again. “Avery said since I don’t have a dad, that my mom must have a boyfriend. Do you kiss him?”

His face is so twisted over the thought of Emma kissing someone that she can barely hold in her laughter. Her stomach is probably about as twisted as Henry’s face is.

“No, kid, that man is not my boyfriend. I don’t have one, but I promise if I get one, you’ll be the first one to know.”

He won’t be. If she ever does decide to date again, Henry won’t be meeting anyone until she’s somehow sure that everything will go right.

She has no idea how people do this.

It takes a few more minutes for Henry to fall back asleep, soft puffs of air hitting against her neck, and when she’s sure that he’s sound asleep, she carefully untangles herself and moves out of his bed, quietly exiting his room and going back out into the hallway. Mary Margaret, David, and Killian are all sitting in the living room, quietly talking, and Emma tries to slip past them and into her own bedroom only for David to call her over to hear some story about how Killian managed to get here from London. She listens to half of it, but she’s not nearly as intrigued by the stranger in her apartment. When he was nothing but a handsome customer, he was fine. This is much too much.

And that’s exactly why she excuses herself to her room, slipping out of her uniform and taking a shower to wash away the smell of food and alcohol and everything she hates about her job.

She’s going to smell like garlic bread for the rest of her life.

By the time she’s finished, has braid her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into a pair of pajamas, it’s far past three in the morning. She needs to go to sleep, but she’s not leaving Henry unattended. As quietly as possible, she grabs an extra blanket and steps out into the main room of the apartment, hoping that Killian is asleep and stays that way.

Because this is her life, he is obviously wide awake and sitting at the kitchen table with a still steaming mug of what smells like tea in front of him.

He looks up the moment her bedroom door clicks behind her.

Shit.

“Swan,” he nods.

She nods. How rude would she be to ignore him and walk to Henry’s room?

“Oh. You’re still up.”

“It would seem so.”

“Do you need something? Another blanket? A pillow? Is Netflix not working?”

Killian shakes his head and takes a sip of his tea. She didn’t even know they had tea. Mary Margaret must have had some.

“I’m fine. I assure you that the three of you have been nothing but hospitable when I was fine to find a motel.” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear. She tries her best to ignore the fact that the fingers underneath his glove don’t move. “If I had known you had a son, I – ”

The hair on the back of her neck stands. “You would have what?”

“I would have never accepted Mary Margaret’s proposal. I’m sure you don’t want someone you don’t know being that close to your kid.”

“No, I don’t. You could be the nicest guy in the world, but don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

Emma scoffs and turns her head away. Stupidly, she looks back. “If you want to spike your tea, I think we have some whiskey.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“I’m off the clock now. I feel like you might deserve it.”

His head tilts back in quiet, broken laughter. “Aye, I suppose I do. It’s been a banner night.”

“I don’t know her or anything, but your girlfriend is obviously an idiot to cheat on you.”

“You don’t know anything about me either.”

“I know that very few people deserve to have their heart broken like that.”

“Is that what happened to you? You had your heart broken?”

She tugs the blanket around her shoulders. “That’s not your business.”

“Forgive me, love. You’re something of an open book to me. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

Now she’s the one who needs a drink.

This has not been her day.

Far too much love.

Far too many thoughts of Neal.

Far too many British men thinking they know her when they don’t.

“You don’t know anything about me either.”

Killian sighs and takes another long sip of his tea. “I know you hate Valentine’s Day and have a son while also living with another couple who are slightly older than you. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out a few things about you just as I’m sure you’ve done the same to me.”

Emma almost protests. But only almost. He’s right. She’s been watching people for a long time, and it’s easy to know that he uses his looks more than his intelligence to initially make people be fond of him. He’s charming, but he’s also smart. He’s studying a crazy difficult subject at a school that isn’t exactly for slackers, and while he may secretly be an asshole for his girlfriend to cheat on him, she doesn’t get that feeling.

She gets the feeling that he might be as down on her luck as she is sometimes.

“I’m getting the whiskey,” she blurts out. She’s not tired anymore, and if she goes to Henry’s room, she’s going to end up not being able to sleep. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had any.”

“Well, we’re changing that.”

Emma has obviously lost her mind in some kind of sleep-deprived, stressed-out kind of way, but she finds it easy to talk to Killian.

Which is dumb.

She wanted to hate him.

She really did.

But he’s easy to talk to despite the fact that she’s mad about that and that it’s probably one of the worst days of his life. She would assume. She doesn’t know.

What she does know, however, is that he was in the Navy for one year, was involved in an accident, and the compensation he got for that funded his move to the US and his education, which is a lot more information than what he shared with David earlier. It’s kind of fascinating, if not a little tragic, and maybe today wasn’t the worst day of his life.

She may have a little bit of whiskey in her, but she’s not about to spill all of her secrets.

Then again, she’s never going to see this man again. He’ll be a fleeting memory, just a ship passing in the night.

But no. She won’t share. Wounds never close if you keep picking at them, and she’s not going to do that.

Instead she tells him she just started at a local community college and that she hopes to get into the nursing program. She’s never been great at science, but it’s a good career with good pay, and by the time she’s finished with the program Henry will hopefully be at least a little self-sufficient. Besides, she’s got David and Mary Margaret to help her, and she can handle it.

She always has.

His mom was apparently a nurse, and she doesn’t ask about the way he refers to her in the past tense. It’s easier not to. Instead she listens to him share stories of she’d once told him when he was younger. It’s all crazy and stressful, and if Emma didn’t want a better life for she and Henry so badly, she’d probably drop all of her classes out of fear right now.

But the better life is calling.

Killian keeps the conversation flowing from topic to topic more easily than anyone has a right to, and he only occasionally stops, a dark flash settling in his eyes and in the curve of his lips. But just as quickly as it appears, it disappears and he talks of his favorite shows or the runs he likes to go on early in the morning when, miraculously, most of Manhattan is asleep.

“Thanks for this, love.”

“For what?” Emma asks.

“For keeping my mind occupied. I don’t – well, I bloody don’t know what I’d do if I’d stumbled into another restaurant tonight.”

Emma leans forward and tears apart a piece of her pop tart. “You’d be sleeping on some other bartender’s couch.”

“There’s not currently a lot of sleeping going on.”

She laughs and takes another bite before looking down at her phone. “Holy shit. It’s almost six thirty. How are either of us awake?”

“I’m fueled by anger, sadness, and the conversation of an incredibly charming woman.”

His brows wiggle with his words, his smile more of a smirk, and in any other situation, she’d have the urge to slap him.

“I’m going to be dead inside today.”

“I should probably let you go to bed, Swan. I’m sure you’ve got plans today that require sleep.”

“Yeah, I do. I – ”

Almost as if on cue, Henry’s door creaks open, and he walks out into the living room. His hair is disheveled like it always is when he wakes up, and now he is officially missing both socks.

Why can kids not sleep in?

“I’m hungry,” he mumbles, wiping his eyes. “Can we have pancakes? With the faces on them?”

“Kid, I – ”

“I can make them,” Killian interrupts. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Um, yeah,” Emma nods. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going to make some coffee, and then I’ll help. Henry, go brush your teeth.”

“Okay.”

“And I’m going to check to make sure you actually did.”

Henry groans, and Emma hears Killian chuckle. “I was exactly the same as a lad. So, pancakes with faces on them? Where do I find the ingredients?”

-/-

The pancakes are really good.

Much better than the ones she makes, which seems impossible when the recipe is on the box.

And Killian is fantastic at entertaining Henry’s questions, even when Henry asks about Killian’s gloved hand. He makes up some story about being attacked by Peter Pan and being like Captain Hook, and it helps Emma be a little less mortified that her child has no manners.

So on no sleep and a slight hangover, Emma has breakfast with her kid and a half-stranger, and it’s not the worst thing in the world.

It’s actually kind of nice.

And when Killian leaves to catch a train home, he slips her a note with his phone number. He leaves the ball in her court, which she likes, and even though it takes a few weeks, she does end up calling.

Well, texting. It’s easier that way.

Really, the whole thing is easy, and Emma is as surprised by that as anyone. For once in her life, she has hope that something is going to work out.

-/-

Next year Valentine’s Day is spent eating pizza with Killian and Henry with the only acknowledgement of the day being Henry giving the two of them the leftover cards from his class.

It’s perfect.

The year after that Killian doesn’t have to travel five hours to see them.

That’s somehow more than perfect.

“Can we say that our anniversary is Valentine’s Day, love?” Killian asks her as his lips press into her temple.

“Never,” she sighs, “but maybe the day isn’t as bad as it used to be.”

#cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #shireness-says

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wheelersdealer · 5 years ago

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RABBIT HOLE

Summary: You hate Steve, Steve hates you, you may have fooled around once or twice but whatever -- he’s found himself oddly protective when he sees some prick picking on you and you’re not sure how you feel about sympathetic! King Steve.

Pairing: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Warnings: Profanity, Small Sexual Themes, Harassment A/n: This is a continuation of my “Her Majesty” story you can find on my blog! Also, new fic format so I can give gif creators direct credit! Just click the picture and you’ll be sent there! Also, all gifs I use are reblogged prior to posting an imagine.

Steve Harrington has fallen down a rabbit hole. Of both physical and figurative means but this fic is PG-13, so —

The subtle touches you share and the gentle, but seductive glares you shoot his way in class and in the hall…it’s all built up to be something greater. No, it isn’t love, it's certainly not love because how can a King love the Queen attempting to raid his castle, and he doesn’t want to date you but…it’s hard to explain.

Here! Just now —

His eyes are drawn away from practice. He works with Tommy and some other boys in shooting hoops, mostly numb from their bickering and his spot-on shooting despite the crick in his wrist (totally not related to you).

Hey, at least he lands.

But then his eyes land on you, standing in the alley between Hawkins High’s two buildings. It’s the perfect view, the sun hitting your face just right. Just well enough to capture your furrowed brows and a glare so strong he can realize now that the ones you give him are nowhere near malicious.

And then he sees a guy.

And then Steve gets hit the head.

He hisses and groans as the ball collides with his skull, but still, he’s focused on you and this guy. He’s not just a regular teenage boy no he’s-he’s a guy. Like, a man, a dude.

“Harrington!” Tommy scoffs, picking up the ball and holding it between his ribs and arm.

Steve rolls his eyes at them, but still feels inclined to stay and play or at least try to explain. He decides not to, instead, his focus still on you as he rubs his temples to ease the thumping in his brain and tries to steady his legs as they’ve become a bit numb from standing motionless for so long.

“Where the hell are you going?” Tommy scoffs. The guys around them aren’t exactly in their group and Tommy has felt a need to prove himself to them the entire game through ‘trash talk,’ ‘smack talk,’ (yes, different things according to Tommy), and showing them just how confident he is to bully none other than ‘King Steve Harrington’ on the court.

“Can it Tommy, will you?” Steve spits back at him.

He limps off toward you and in the corner of your eye, he’s nothing but a grey speck that invades your sight.

You’re stiff with your arms crossed over your stomach. Clearly, it’s meant more to hug yourself than to be all calm and casual, with Steve able to see from this far away just how tight you’re holding your own arms.

Your shoulders are up, your chin is closer to your chest, and you have your feet pointing away from this situation…

So you can…run, perhaps?

“HEY!” Steve shouts the moment he worries why you would worry about having too. He claps his hands and that’s what draws you to him. His voice is a bit too hoarse and husky from basketball to recognize immediately.

You roll your eyes allow him a chance to speak. You take a few steps back from this guy, and Steve clearly sees that you consider him as an opening.

His heart flutters at the honor. Just a little bit.

Steve plants himself in front of this guy and spits, “Can I help you?” He picked up that tone of voice from his ‘Take me to your manager!’ mama.

You peak over Steve’s shoulder and watch the guy babble. You’ve allowed yourself to be more open about your vulnerability, hugging yourself directly and keeping your head down but you still manage to scold the guy with sharp eyes behind your brows.

Steve can see that he definitely looks familiar…But then again there’s a lot of quaffed and blonde-haired douchebags that have roamed not only the halls of Hawkins High but the halls of every high school in America, really.

He looks like he’s in college but he still wears his Hawkins varsity jacket.

Steve gets caught in his eyes, squinting and trying to decipher this dude’s face.

“Get lost,” the guy spits, trying to step past Steve to get to you.

“Um, yeah,” Steve hisses, “I don’t think so.”

“This is none of your business.”

Steve pants and crosses his arms. “Well doesn’t seem like it’d be much of some deadbeat college kid’s business either, so…?” The guy clenches his jaw. “Beat it.”

You cautiously walk up to Steve and you two watch the guy leave. He keeps looking back just about ready to kill both of you but his fury is so satisfying you can’t help but smile mischievously and give him a little wave goodbye.

You chuckle and Steve jumps and looks at you.

“You okay?” He breathes, voice laced with worry.

But it sounds too caring and too enthusiastic. He reels it back a couple notches and puts on a face of apathy. He repeats, “You okay?” Like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

And suddenly now that it’s over and done with and you have a chance to think over all the drama, you deflate.

“Thanks, Harrington,” you mutter and pat his arm before walking off.

Now Steve feels like a douchebag.

He curses himself and grabs your wrist only to realize when you violently yank it away that that sort of interaction might not be the most welcomed right now.

“Sorry — Y/n, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You insist and try to walk away.

Steve jogs after you. He has an eagle eye on all of your surroundings and when he finally spots the guy, he almost walks into a light pole. But he’s Steve Harrington so he’s able to play it off in all of his kingly glory.

He mumbles to himself. “Who was that guy anyway?”

You both stop walking and watch him get into his car. Steve looks down to your arms, still so tightly crossed over your chest.

You grimace.

“Chad.”

Everything comes back to Steve in a flash before his eyes.

‘Chad’ was, and is the biggest douchebag to have roamed the halls of Hawkins high in all of human history. So much so Steve has never been sure if Chad was ever his real name because it fits too close for comfort.

(He may not be in the realm of Billy Hargrove who is soon to come, who you’ll one day learn carries all sorts of douche-baggage, and he certainly isn’t in the realm of Tommy H. who is completely riding on his high school career to save him from minimum wage, but never in his years of being ‘King Steve’ has Steve ever seen such an undeserving candidate pulled straight from a Slasher Fic about pretty popular people destined to get slashed.)

Chad never got that title because, despite his popularity, he was an all-around douchebag nobody cared to hand the crown to.

Hell, in contrast to you, Steve would say you’re a princess (the connotation being he’s come to see you as quite sweet), but he knows you’re really a Queen (the connotation being that you are still willing to rip his eyes out of his skull at a moment’s notice during this very, very complicated but consensual relationship).

Never-mind what he’s just seen. He can’t help but think, “Why Chad?”

“I mean seriously Y/n — Chad Kokovsky? That guy is like,” he rolls his eyes, “the biggest douchenozzle to roam the Earth. Okay? Even I can’t stand him.”

Douchenozzle. That’s creative —

You scoff, never having been so offended.

“Not like I asked him to come here, dumbass!” You gently push on his chest then start heading back inside. Steve hisses at your strength and follows with a hand to his chest. “I ran into him at Dairy Queen and he decided to be all creepy.”

“Woah Woah Woah—“ Steve jogs to get in front of you. He holds your arms and looks you in the eyes.

Yours flicker from his own to his hands on your shoulders and he promptly takes his hands away and puts them on his hips.

“He followed you?

You whimper and stomp your foot, wanting this conversation to be over.

“Y/n, he followed you?”

“I guess! But it’s no big deal since he told me he’s like, starting school back up again soon. He’s like on break now. Besides like, isn’t that just something you all do?”

Steve Harrington…has never been so offended…in his life.

“No!” He curses under his breath. “Jesus Y/n, has this happened enough times for you to think it’s normal, cause it’s not normal!”

You bite into your lip and look down at the ground.

Steve can see Tommy embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself just some distance away.

He runs his hand through his hair and comes up with a solution: “Any time you have a problem with a guy, you come to me, alright?”

You step away from him. “Why?”

“B-because—“

“HARRINGTON! HURRY UP!”

Steve grabs your arm gently this time and pushes you closer to the school and under the shade.

“Because,” he lowers his voice even more, “I’m King Steve, Y/n. The hell they gonna do when I tell them off?”

“And I’m ‘Queen Y/n’ so clearly, what about it?”

Steve leans in closer. There’s a smirk tugging at his lips. “Gotta stick together, right? Whole castle goes down without its Queen, right?” You squint. “That’s chess…right?”

You chuckle and shake your head at the ground. “That is chess, Harrington, you are right!”

“See?!”

You look around, suddenly paranoid yourself. “I’m not getting you involved in all of my shit, Harrington. I appreciate the offer, but you can forget it. I’m not jeopardizing my crown since it’s the one thing I get for dealing with this shit.”

“Psh! How much ‘shit’ can you possibly have?”

You raise one brow. Steve suddenly feels butterflies in his stomach just imagining what’s about to come out of your mouth.

You explain but won’t look into his eyes for any of it.

Deep breath—

“So clearly Chad’s kind of obsessed with me for the time being. Richard Mackey and his goons, you know, the ones who sit—“

“On the west end of the cafeteria with the funny glasses, yeah yeah—“

“Yeah. Deborah Sheppard told them a bunch of weird-ass shit so he could woo me,” Steve’s face scrunches up in disgust, “And I don’t want to be the mean bitch who tells off the ‘nerdy’ group so I have to tiptoe around that. Sandy, Sue, Sammy, and Kelly decided to go be dumbasses and got involved with a bunch of college guys and they had a fling over the summer but now none of them want anything to do with it so I’ve been trying to get them off their backs for a while now. Kathy and Deborah H—“ You gasp an overdramatic, cartoon gasp, and clutch Steve’s arm. “Oh, I forgot! And—!”

“Jesus Y/n—“

You smile smugly. “Getting tired yet?”

Steve licks his lips and runs his hand down the side of his face. He sighs and shrugs. “Sure, why not. Me, and you,” he pokes himself in the chest then keeps his finger against yours, “Can solve all of these problems, superficial and not, alright? I mean,” he chuckles, “King and Queen gotta look out for their kingdom, don’t they?”

You chuckle. “You really ready for that Harrington? No offense but I thought your expertise only ranges in picking up chicks and being complicit around Tommy.”

There’s a moment of silence as Steve realizes that is his range of expertise. (And his hair.)

“C’mon,” He mumbles through closed lips.

You look and he has his hand out. You shake it, looking into his eyes till the moment you separate.

You turn and (Jesus, again—) Steve grabs your arm and with a quick tug, you’re twirled back right in front of him.

So close…

Your chest is against his, your knee between his thighs. His look of triumph and excitement about this new partnership has vanished. His eyes are malicious, but his lips frown.

And his voice is low. “Come get me if any of those guys start bothering you…yeah?”

You suck your lips in and nod weakly.

Steve lets go and gives you a gentle push.

Suddenly your walk isn’t as confident as before. It’s modest.

You look over your shoulder just before you reach the door and Steve’s still staring at you, that pitiful, worried look taking over his features.

He snaps out of his gaze, tries to quickly look somewhere that isn’t you.

Damn.

He fell hard.

(Message me if you would like to be tagged whenever I post a Steve imagine!)

@stevieharrrr @songforhema @broadwayandnetflix @billyhargrovescigarette @bckysloki @christinawxxx @timeladygallifrey @gwenebear @chloe742 @wtf-multifandom @theyoutubedork @marvelismylifffe @novaddictx @steveharrigntons @chubbybunny111 @wigofokoye @kingsteve011 @harringtons-bxtch

#Steve Harrington x Reader #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington imagines #Stranger Things imagine #Stranger Things imagines #monarchy

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thewritingstar · 4 years ago

Text

Until My Heart Stops Racing

Pairing: Mitch x Mike (or Bitch as I like to call them, ya know cause Believe x Mitch.....nvm lol)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Note: This was a commission for the wonderful @lisathefan who gave me the cutest prompt and I know she loves her crack ships. I hope you enjoy my dear and thanks to my beta, Faxx for helping me!

Word count: 5538

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The car whipped into the parking space, dirt flying around us and I felt my heart rate finally go back to its normal beating. I looked over to Butch who had a goofy grin and ignoring everything he just did.

“Butch your driving is terrible. Now I get why you fly everywhere.” I groaned as I finally got out of the car. “I swear if Brick saw how you drove this thing... actually I don’t want to think about it.” I thought that speeding was illegal but apparently if the cops can’t even see your car, it's a free pass. And being in touch with the puffs might be a bonus we all have.

Butch let out a laugh before locking the car. “Relaxe Mike, what Brick doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged and sometimes I wondered how he could even say that. Brick could kill someone with just a glance but when you are a superhuman, and his brother, maybe the effect doesn’t work.

Maybe I should ask Blossom about that.

The beeping of other cars brought me out of my trance as I followed him on the dirt path.

“Anyways, why did you drag me all the way out here?” I turned to see the lights and the signs. “The fair?”

In front of me was the entrance to what could only be deemed as a somehow legal way to make people shell out three hundred dollars on cheap food and even cheaper ride systems. Every kid wanted to go to the fair and, yeah, it was fun when you were five, but now that we had just graduated high school, it seemed more dangerous than fun.

“Yeah, why not?”

I glanced at him and he only smiled widely but something in his eyes had mischief written all over it. “What's the deal?”

He sighed and smirked.

“A little birdy told me you got heart eyes for a certain someone.” Butch threw his arm around my shoulder. “And as the king of romance, I’m gonna help you out.”

Theres always a small tinge of fear whenever Butch gets an idea. It either ends badly where someone gets hurt, usually him or bad in the way that we all get in trouble and the notorious Powerpuff Girls have to get us out of it. But this...this was much worse.

“Butch, what did you do?” I said through gritted teeth. He only laughed at me instead of answering and pushed up towards the gates.

“Relax. Look they are here.” He pointed.

I followed his sight and walking up towards us was Buttercup, Robin and Mitch. Butch let out another laugh, probably because he could hear my heartbeat. Fuck superhearing. Of course Robin opened her mouth. You tell a girl while you’re throwing up that you have the biggest crush on your best friend who wears dark leather, has piercings and makes your heart swoon and think that she can keep her mouth shut. But no, she can’t.

“Hey guys.” Butch waves to him before leaving me to wrap his arms around Buttercup and ignore the public by kissing her square on the lips. PDA is always gross unless you’re the one doing it, so I can’t blame them. Also it's funny to watch her smack his arm.

“Sup Mikey.” Robin smiles smugly. Little demon.

“Hey. Hi Mitch.” He gives me a wave and a nod of the head and I have to mentally tell myself not to blush. Stupid hormons.

“Come on you two.” Robin says and grabs my arm and Mitch’s and forces us towards the carnival’s entrance. “Lets go!”

One of the perks to being besties with the puffs is the mass amount of freebies. Buttercup swiftly pulled out a ticket for each of us and handed it to the ticket collector.

“Sweet, free entrance.” Mitch smiled at me and held up his hand for a fist bump.

I gladly returned the gesture and every time I did so, I wondered if he could feel the electric spark between us. God, I need to stop reading romance novels.

“Alright losers. We’ll see you all later tonight, meet up for fireworks at 9?” Buttercup said and apparently everyone already had a plan that I was not aware of.

“Sounds good to me!” Butch smirked. “BC and I are going to do coupley stuff no one wants to see and Robin said something about henna soooooo.” He looked at me. “Guess Mitchy boy and Mikey are on their own.” I didn’t miss his wink and before I could protest, everyone was walking away.

My mind was now racing as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I realized in this moment that the group had ganged up on us, well specifically me. Mitch probably didn’t even think twice as the group broke up but they were out of their minds if they thought something was going to happen.

“Wanna hit the rides?” He asked.

I take a breath before nodding. We turn into the direction of the ride area and I have to remind myself that he is just a friend. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. I usually have my emotions in check but for some reason, they want to act up now. All I have to do is get through tonight without embarrassing myself or giving Butch the satisfation of him being the king of romance. As if that were possible.

The area is buzzing with so much energy. There’s little kids whining and screams coming from the various rides. The smells of corn dogs, popcorn and, oddly enough, waffles mixed in the air and I can’t tell if it smells good or not but I know my pockets are gonna be much lighter by the end of the night.

We get into the shortest line for the tickets and it's truly a scam that each ride is a separate cost.

“I don’t feel like dying tonight so I think two rides is good for me.” Mitch says and I laugh a little because it's true. Just watching the swings makes me feel like one of them unhinge and plummet to the ground but that's what I get for being a paranoid person.

“I feel you. How about the rollercoaster and ummm... the spinning ride?” I suggest.

“Sounds good to me.” He smiles and god fucking dammit, those damn dimples.

The line moves as we chat about the newest horror movie coming into theaters and how Mitch saw a certain pair of redheads making out in a car.

“Wait for real?”

“I swear to god dude.” He raised his hand. “Unless some other chick wears a big ass bow, it has to be them.”

“Interesting.” I smile and soon we get called next.

“Hi there boys, how many tickets can I get ya?” the older woman asks.

“Ten.” Mitch says and I reach into my pocket to grab my wallet, that may or may not have a photo of all of our friends and definitely not for the reason that I can see his face at any given time, but Mitch stops me and places the cash in the tin. “I got it.” he says casually and something inside me felt all warm and fuzzy as the row of blue tickets was handed to him.

“Have a nice date night.” The woman says as we walk away and I almost do a double take thinking I heard her wrong. But when I look over to Mitch, he seems unaffected by the words so I just let it slide.

The rollercoaster isn’t as grand or cool as the ones at the theme park, it doesn’t even go upside down but it has a good bit of hills and bumps to give some air time so i guess it will do. The only problem is that these workers don’t care and make Mitch and I sit in the same cart as these two younger kids.

After we get the bars onto us, the ride starts to go. In front of us the girl grabs the boy's arm and I give a small eye roll as we start to climb the lift hill.

“Babe I'm scared.” She cries and he wraps an arm around her shoulders and I’ve never been so jealous of middle schoolers before.

“These carts are so damn small.” Mitch complains. And it's true. The two of us squished in this together leaves no space for our arms. The pressure of our shoulders touching isn’t too bad but it's to the point it almost hurts. “Hold on.” He says and I feel him pull his right arm away from mine and throw it behind us. “Sorry this is better.”

“No, it's cool bro.” I say even though I realize that this boy really just made it ten times harder to breath now.

I can barely grasp my surroundings as the rollercoaster takes its first turn before the drop. I can see the ending of the track as we go down but the only thing my brain is processing is the fingers tightening on my shoulder.

“Holy shit.” I mumble hoping that Mitch doesn’t know how he's affecting me.

We let out screams and shouts as we go up and down, flying around on the track and I try to enjoy myself, I really do. Before long, it's over and Mitch reaches his hand out to help me up and I take it with silence.

“That was fun.” He smiles and I am really happy he ignored his moms protests and got that lip piercing. It suits him.

“Yeah.” Is all I can muster and he gives me a look before walking towards the next ride.

Luckily as we enter this ride, there’s more room. Only our knees touch as we buckle in the seatbelt and I feel myself being able to breathe better.

“Good thing we didn’t eat before getting on here.” I laugh as the lights start to flash.

He snorts and nods. “Robin would have blown chunks either way.”

The ride is a simple circular track with small hills. All it does is follow the path and goes around pretty fast. Simple but a classic. The music begins and soon we feel the cart shift. I'm sitting on the right while Mitch is on the left, next to the exit and he wiggles off his black beanie just for good measure. His light brown hair, slightly damaged from dying it black back in freshman year, is ruffled from hat hair and my god is it cute.

“Fucking love this ride.” Mitch smiles and it begins to pick up the pace.

Soon, we are at full speed, which is fine. Perfectly fine. Except for the fact that the gravity from the ride is pulling me towards Mitch and no matter how tight I hold on, I end up smacked against him. Shoulders touching and I can clearly smell his cologne. It's the scent of sandalwood and campfire and my god does it smell heavenly. Men just smell like nature and I am more than okay with that.

But Mitch doesn’t mind, because why would he? Instead he's laughing and truly enjoying the ride. I smile and laugh too because honestly, it's just fun to spend time with him. The ride is over faster than I wanted and we hop off, slightly dizzy and I walk a little out of line but he catches my arm and pulls me to him.

“Easy dude.” He chuckles and I nudge him playfully and ruffle his hair before he plops on his beanie. Goodbye cute hat hair.

All of a sudden, my shoulder is hit. It was a pretty hard smack and my body jolted to the side as Mitch grabbed me from falling.

“Look a bunch of homos.” I look up and realize that it's some assholes from our school.

Duke Jones and Mark Dalton. Some of the few people who actually try to be douchebags on the regular.

My eyes do heavy eye rolls and I want to scream at them but I've never been a confronting person. My voice is in my throat but Mitch takes a step forward, his hand never leaving my arm.

“And what of it? Really dudes? You think some lame insult is gonna hurt our feelings. You’re lucky I don’t just kick your ass, better enough I can call Buttercup in a second and have your bodies all the way across this place. Grow the fuck up and maybe don’t choke on your toxic masculanity.” He sneered and sometimes I forget that Mitch can be pretty intimidating.

Their eyes widened as Mitch pulled out his phone to show BC’s number. They mutter something before turning and rushing off in a hurry.

“You okay?” He asks me.

“Yeah.” I say. “Sorry you got caught in that.”

“It's not a big deal.”

But it is. It's not a secret that I'm out and proud. Yeah its cool and all to not have to be closeted, even Princess came out last year so its nice to know that someone higher up won’t pick on me, but even then, it sucks. No matter where I go in life, someone will be there with a flame thrower of slurs or anger for something I didn’t choose. As for Mitch, theres something about him being called gay and him not having a hissy fit about it that makes me feel safe. Uhh fuck.

I take a second to recollect myself and Mitch just pulls me from the herds of eyes that saw that fiasco.

“Lets go here.” He points to the hall of mirrors and for some reason it's beginning to get extremely hard to be around him.

But I take a deep breath and push those feelings to the side once again.

The hall of mirrors was by far the lamest thing the fair could have done. Sure, as a little kid it was cool and slightly scary but now, all of our heads could see just above the tips of the mirrors making it lose the effect. It probably would have been more fun if the others were there. Butch would hide behind the mirros trying to scare us before Buttercup sent some lasers his way causing them to bounce everywhere and making us duck and cover. Good times. However, it was just Mitch and me.

While Mitch was walking, I couldn’t stop thinking about those jerks just now. Of course everyone already knew about my preference but Mitch seemed unbothered by being referred to as gay. Probably because he's not some asshole that thinks it's a bad thing, I mean if he did, why would he be friends with me for all this time? He’s just a good person, that's all.

Not to sound like the coming of age kid, but I knew I was into dudes before I could comprehend the idea of love or romance, I just thought they were pretty to look at. Moving to a new city at such a young age was hard for me, not to mention the whole invisible friend that tried to kill everyone. But after everything was said and done, I did in fact make some friends.

The famous superheroes had become my pals and when Buttercup introduced me to Mitch, I think that's when it all went downhill. We became the dynamic duo and everyone always paired us as the best friends, which is true but...it makes me feel guilty.

He turned a corner and I stopped walking. All of a sudden I was lost and staring at a mirror. Just me in my beat up sneakers and the uncertain face I seem to be wearing a lot lately. There's always a time in your life where you stop and contemplate everything, question all your decisions and how nothing truly matters.

“Hey you stopped walking?” Mitch said to me and I looked at him with a shaky smile.

“Sorry. Lost in thought I guess.”

“Care to share?” He asked and leaned against one of the mirrors.

I laughed to myself thinking about what I could possibly say. “Yeah sure Mitch, why don’t I just tell you that I’m in love with you and how it pains me to wake up to know that you will only see me as just a friend. Why don’t I just rip out my heart and put it on a silver platter for you to squash or just confess and kiss you here, ignoring all the states and hopefully pissing off some people?”

“...What?”

My eyes shot open and my eyes met his. He looked at me with confusion and shock. His mouth hung open slightly and it took me a solid three seconds to relaize that my dumb ass had just blurted that all out.

Panic. That's all I could feel as he stared like a deer caught in headlights. I could feel myself on the verge of tears and suddenly the air was too thick as I turned and ran, not caring about the employee telling me I was going the wrong way.

Mitch’s voice echoed behind me but I couldn’t stand to turn and look towards him. To hear the pure rejection and probably the disgust. Throwing away years of friendship for some stupid feelings? What was I thinking?

After nearly hitting my head several times, I made it out and ignored the weird stares and glances people were giving me. All I wanted to do was find Butch and get out of here and hope that I can just pack up and move away for college. Maybe even change my name.

Instead I found myself pushing my way into the bathroom stall and biting my arm to stifle my sobs. I felt like my heart was about to shatter, that all my nightmares where coming true all thanks to my stupid mouth. I was a fool to think that someone like him would even consider me as something more, a complete and utter fool.

“Mike?” A voice called and of course the sneakers peaking outside the stall belonged to Butch.

“What?” I spat bitterly. “Go away.”

I barely heard his sigh. “Dude, I don’t know what happened but suddenly Buttercup saw you burst into here. Really dude, is everything fine? At least come out and talk to us. Plus it smells really bad in here and there's a line of dudes.”

There's some truth to the matter and I wiped my face and pushed open the stall with a little too much force but luckily he grabbed it and just nodded towards the exit.

Robin and Buttercup are standing outside and luckily, I don’t see Mitch.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Robin asks as she hands me a tissue from her purse.

“No. I just wanna go home.”

Buttercup looks arounds then back to me. “Where's Mitch.”

“Probably somewhere and never wants to see me again.” I mumble.

“What?” She asks and looks towards Butch then back to me.

Butch raised his brow. “Mike, did you tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Buttercup asked.

It was at that moment that Buttercup didn’t know that I was practically in love with her best friend. Maybe Robin and Butch planned this together but it didn’t matter, not anymore. I would be losing two friends after this. Great.

“Look. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.” My throat is dry and it hurts and there's no doubt that my face is red and flushed with tears. “I'm just gonna call my mom to come get me.”

“Come on Mike don’t go.” Robin asked and she padded my arm.

“You don’t get it, Robin.” I spat. “You don’t understand what I just did. Thanks to someone’s dumb idea, I now lost my best friend. And for what? Did we really think he would like me back? That he could even see me in such a way? I don’t even know if he’s gay or let alone into dudes. But who gives fuck? I don’t.”

Butch took a step towards me but my anger only rose. “C’mon Mike I'm sure-”

“This was a stupid idea Butch!” I yelled and at that moment I didn’t care what anyone thought. I was embarrassed and hurt. “I just want to be alone.” I pushed past him and the others, ignoring everything they were saying because it didn’t matter any more.

It didn’t matter that my friends tried to help something that shouldn’t have even been considered. It was just a stupid crush. Nothing more, nothing less. Hopefully by the new semester, it would be gone and out of my system…. hopefully. A stupid crush that I’d been harboring for years and titling on a scale of something more.

It wasn’t long until my tears dried and I found myself among the section of carnival games. All of the rigged and hard to win and if you did win, it would be a small sappy prize that you would toss into a garbage bag or try to sell for a nickel at a garage sale.

There were darts and guessing the weight of a small pig. The basketball tossing and hitting the giant hammer looked tempting but instead I walked to the game that no one had ever won. Ring toss. A game of chance and so incredibly rigged, it's a miracle if one prize is won in a year.

Without a second thought, I gave up a fresh twenty dollar bill and the girl working, who clearly hated her job, handed me the biggest bucket of rings. Enough to keep me entertained until I call my mom or muster up enough courage to ask Butch for a ride back like a dog with its tail inbetween its legs.

I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I could be okay with this. But I was stupid. Stupid to think that the boy I had a crush on, one of my best friends, would like me back, or even be into dudes for that matter. But no, instead of having my secret crush kept, ya know, a secret, the one person who shouldn’t know, did.

I tossed another ring into the sea of bottles, the high pitched clinking echoed for just a moment as another was tossed. Maybe this was pointless. Maybe trying to figure out feelings was a waste of time because in all honesty, I never knew.

Like the plastic rings people pay way too much for, you jump and you think you’ll land on that bottle, secure the prize and show everyone up. Prove that you can do the impossible.

But then you miss and reality comes back. The bucket dwindles down and soon you’re left with nothing but regret for trying and shorting eight bucks.

“Hey.”

I turned, of course he would follow me. Why wouldn’t he? He was probably here just to tell me to let it go and sweep it under the rug, and say it's not weird when it totally is. Or he was going to come out and say that maybe our friendship has come to its expiration date.

“Oh. Hey.” I threw another one, missing again.

I tried not to care as he stood next to me but I passed him the bucket and he took his own shot, missing, just like me.

“Have you been crying?” He asked and there was no way around it.

“Yep.” I popped the p and threw another ring. “Look Mitch, I’m sorry what I said-”

“Don’t be.”.

“Most guys would just push someone like me away if that happened.”

He hummed and tossed a ring, missing. “Well, I’m not like most guys and I thought that was pretty clear. Especially after those jerks. I value your friendship too much to get worried or upset.”

I looked over at him, and that in itself was a mistake, because it would be just my luck that the other carnival games with their bright flashing lights would surround him and make it seem like he was glowing. The lights soften his features, a small twinkle on the black orb of his earring and making those very so light freckles appear.

Almost like a painting hung up in a museum. You think the trip is boring, and for the most part it is. A few interesting things here and there but just as you are about to leave, you find a room you hadn’t explored. It could be nothing and you could leave, forgetting everything in the last three hours and moving on with your life.

Or it could be life changing. As if when you walked in there, the most captivating painting was on that wall and you wonder how you skipped it in the first place. You stare at it, taking in the picture itself and the meaning. Stepping closer and looking at the paint strokes, the time taken to make this is clear and it's full of questions and mystery. The small plaque on the wall fails to answer.

He picked up the last ring. It twirled in his fingertips unsure of where to go.

“I kept thinking, you know.” He said. “I remember watching a show, a random cartoon and an ad for a pride festival popped up. I thought nothing of it, didn’t know what it meant at the time but my father did. He was outraged and changed the channel, screamed and shouted saying that if his son ever was caught doing something like that…” Mitch paused and closed his palm.

I could see the hurt in his eyes as he sighed.

“Then he would have no son. So when I found out what it all meant and learned about myself....I thought it would be best to never act on it. No matter how much I wanted to look towards another guy, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sorry Mitch, I didn’t know.” And it was the truth. I wanted to mentally slap myself for not realizing that he was, in fact, gay as well. Way to go Mike, your gay-dar is broken. But then again, you can’t just tell a sexuality clear as day. I can’t blame him for hiding it, after everything with his dad.

He sighed again. “But when you told me that. Told me you wanted me, I think I started to realize that I would rather have something I want no matter what others think of me. I envy how you can just come out and be proud, as you should, but I wish I was that brave instead of a coward.”

“Mitch.” I slid my hand on top of his cautiously. He didn’t flinch or have any indication of pulling away. “I’m scared every day. Scared that someone might yell something offensive or even try to hurt me. Just like those assholes did earlier.But I can’t stop those things from happening but I can choose to not let them affect me. It's hard but you know you’re surrounded by people who care about you. Plus your best friend is an actual superhero.”

“I know, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to date such a fuck up like me.”

Fuck up? Did this boy really think that?

“I would never see you as that.” I said honestly. “It's normal for us to have conflicting feelings when someone in our life isn't supportive. It's never gonna be a walk in the park or smooth sailing but when you're with someone who cares about you, it makes it easier.”

He sighed for the hundredth time. It was clear the gears in his mind were running at full steam and he looked at the ring in his hand then to the bottles.

“I guess you’re right Mike. I guess I was thrown off that the dude I've liked since kindergarten likes me back.” He looked towards me and tossed the ring, not bothering to pay attention. “I just hope you haven't changed you mind-”

The next thing I know, my hand is tugging on his worn leather collar and his lips are pressed to mine.

I never thought that my first kiss would be as enchanting as this. You always think it's magical and fulfilling but in reality it's probably a mess of lips that don’t move quite as well and somehow there's a tongue doing whatever it wants. I guess I can’t count this as my first kiss because Robin had peaked me on the lips in third grade, also giving me the clear sexual awakening of how I never want another woman to come near me again, but this was different.

He tasted like cotton candy which I should find gross and oddly weird but I didn’t mind one bit. At the beginning there was a bit of hesitation, or maybe he was caught off guard since I did interrupt him but I couldn’t help myself. Stupid hormones. He wasted no time kissing me back and I even felt a hand on my waist pulling towards him. Although it lasted only a few mere seconds, it was like a lifetime of waiting had lifted.

When we pulled apart, loud speakers and alarms went off above us. I looked towards the game, I noticed one single plastic ring was stuck on the bottle. The worker smiled at us before nodding.

“Wow, I can’t believe you made it, especially without looking.” She said and I looked to Mitch who just shrugged.

“What? You kissed me, I just threw it.” He smiled brightly and I hugged him.

“So what will it be?” I asked him and he turned towards the prizes.

“Well, what about that dinosaur?”

“I love dinosaurs.”

Mitch smiled. “I know.”

The worker used a ladder to climb and retrieve the massive blue dinosaur prize. As a kid, i used to dream of winning such a cool thing but know, I think I got something better. Mitch handed it to me with a blush and I looked at it with just as much pink on my cheeks.

“Ya know.” Mitch started. “I have enough tickets for one last ride. Maybe the ferris wheel?”

“That sounds good.” He reached out his hand and I took it. Before I could blink, I felt his lips press against my cheek.

“I don’t like to see you cry.” He said.

I simply hummed and we walked hand in hand to the ferris wheel before deciding to give the prize to some kids. He handed the tickets to the worker as we climbed into the cart and began to go up. He threw his arm over my shoulder like he did on the rollercoaster, but this time, I leaned against him and let those emotions I tried to keep at bay, run wild.

“I’m really glad Butch dragged me here.” I said honestly and Mitch only laughed and silenced me with his lips pressed against mine.

“Me too.”

When we pulled apart, a few questions still lingered in my mind.

“You mean, you’ve liked me this entire time? And you knew I was gay?” I asked hesitantly. It wasn’t a secret, the last part at least.

He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he's had since he was little. “I mean I wasn’t hundred percent sure, I thought maybe it was a one time thing or just happened occasionally. But as we got older, more specifically high school, I think that's when it hit me.” He sighed. “All I knew was that I wanted to be with you until my heart stopped racing.”

His eyes met mine. I’ve always hated when people didn’t see the beauty in brown eyes. They think they are dull and lifeless, only one hue but that's far from the truth. Mitch’s eyes had spots of gold and a slight tint of green, breathtaking to say the least.

“I mean it’s a shame we spent our high school years just as friends.” My hand went on top of his. “But I’d rather have you as my friend instead of losing you so I understand. But what about your dad? Will be okay with us dating-or well I assume we should-”

“I don’t care about his opinion of us. Plus we would be idiots not to date at this point. If he doesn’t accept. That's his loss not mine.” His gaze went to the sky where a firework exploded.

The colors lit up in the sky and we realized we got lucky as our cart stopped at the very top. It felt unreal to be sitting next to my best friend and now, boyfriend. There's always moments in your life that you feel like were meant to be. Maybe it's the career you chose or the person you marry. Milestones that are already set in stone and fate just happens to bring you together, all that stuff. And as I looked at him through heavy lashes I thought that maybe, just maybe, the stars aligned on this one.

That or I would have to admit that Butch is the king of romance, even though he did literally nothing today and this was all me. Either way, Mikey boy’s got a man.

I hope you enjoyed love!!

#Mitch x mike #mike x Mitch ppg #ppg #ppg fic #fanfic commissions

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 38

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother

“How much do you think Kyle knows?” Esme asks, several hours later as she stands at the end of their bed with Addie in her arms. Her body sways from side to side; the movement solely to calm her shaky nerves baby, the baby already fast asleep. Her voice is low; eager to keep any eavesdroppers -especially little ones- from hearing their conversation.

“Might not know anything,” Tyler replies, as he slips into a pair of cargo pants, tending to the zipper and button.

“What’s the chances of that? Considering all the time he’s been spending over there, getting to know her. In the biblical sense.”

“How long were you able to hide what you did for a living from your family?”

“That’s a valid point. But I didn’t live under the same roof as them. And Kyle’s been over there every day for a week and a half; we barely see him. Can you be with someone THAT much and still be totally oblivious?”

“Maybe she’s really good at her job and knows how to keep things on the down low. She fooled us, didn’t she?”

“I’d just like to take this opportunity to swallow my pride and admit that you were right all along. You didn’t trust her from day one. “

“You called me paranoid and overprotective,” he reminds her.

“Usually that’s all it is,” she reasons. “You can be VERY paranoid and overprotective. I thought you didn’t want some strange all up in your personal space. You don’t like people disturbing your happy place.”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t think there was something...off...about her.”

Esme shrugs. “I thought maybe she was just eccentric and outgoing. Friendly.”

“Overly friendly. Like she was trying too hard.”

“Well you ARE a tough nut to crack. I guess it is sort of strange that she seemed so hell bent on being friends with you; you’re not exactly the warmest and most welcoming person. And the whole thing wanting to touch you all the time,” she frowns. “I mean, I can’t exactly blame her for wanting to. I’d want to feel you up too. But she was so...I don’t know...insistent.”

“And you encouraged it. That night she had dinner here.”

“I was joking around and you were a really good sport about it. I just thought she was being goofy and totally harmless. And I was right there. It’s not like she was being sneaky about it.”

“Like when she came over here and I was alone and she started making comments about my dick?”

“It’s a very nice dick,” she playfully comments. “Guess she just knows a good thing when she sees it.”

“It was weird. Normally I don’t mind being checked out, but that was fucked up.”

“Maybe she wanted to bang you and see if you lived up to your man whore reputation,” Esme teases, and he gives a small laugh and snags a belt from the closet; slipping it through the loops on his pants. “I don’t blame her for being thirsty. I’ve been thirsty for seven years and I feel no shame for that.”

“Yeah, but I like when it comes from you. Other people? Not as much. And she’s a little…”

“Overbearing?”

“That works.”

“I don’t understand how he didn’t hear or say anything,” she muses, watching her husband as he finishes dressing. Shrugging into a short sleeved button down; olive green and fitting ‘just right’ across that broad chest and shoulders and snug around the biceps.

He’s changed a lot in seven years; physically speaking. Heavier and wider, stronger and more powerful, a touch more gray scattered throughout his hair and in his beard. More tattoos and scars that are still healing; injuries he’d sustained at Michael McMann’s home in Ireland. But the most drastic difference -despite the horrors and struggles with PTSD and everything that comes with it- are with his personality. The edge is still there. The grittiness and the toughness that comes with years of serving in the military and then as a ‘gun for hire’; the often haunted look in his eyes, caused by the things he’s seen and heard and had been forced to do to stay alive. It had taken years for all those walls to come tumbling down; a full time job even after they’d gotten married and having Millie AND the twins.

It had been a struggle for him; opening up to someone, trusting them, allowing himself to have those softer and vulnerable moments. He’d grown up with an abusive father and went straight into the SASR after graduating high school; had a wife that cheated on him regularly, had a child diagnosed with a terminal illness, then made the unfortunate -and entirely selfish- decision to abandon him while he was dying. But little by little the cracks in that hardened exterior began to spread and grow wider. He began laughing and smiling more easily; genuine smiles that would light up his face and crinkle the corners of his eyes. Letting go of the constant need to be the strong and stoic one; afraid that too much emotion and showing -and receiving- too much affection made him ‘soft’. Weak.

Slowly he’d come around; his children managing to strip away at the last of the layers that he found it so hard to get rid of. They’d always been there. The empathy. The compassion. A heart ten times bigger than his body. Just needing to be reminding that it was okay to expose those sides of himself; to allow himself to feel.

To be human.

“It would be hard don’t you think?” she continues, as she places Addie in her bassinet. “Keeping that kind of secret when you’re under the same roof?”

We’ve kept a lot of secret things from each other,” Tyler points out.

“That’s different. We have a past and a lot of bad things happened in it. Anything we’ve held back from one another, has been done with good intentions. She’s just over there doing her thing and spying on us and having her colleagues over. She’s probably just been using him to get close to us. Or to find things out about us. Kyle isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer and he wouldn’t twice about it if she started asking him things. If she’s that sneaky…”

“Maybe what’s going on between them is legit. Maybe the dick’s that good.”

Esme grimaces. “Ewww. That is my brother. Let’s not talk about that. He probably could have given you a run for your money during your days as a whore.”

“I was not THAT bad.”

“Bullshit you weren’t! I bet half those scars on your back aren’t even from the job. I bet they’re left behind from some stripper with those tacky long nails that are like daggers.”

He grins, then leans it to press a chaste kiss to her lips. “She was a Sunday school teacher, actually.”

“Yeah, and I bet now she can’t even walk into a church without bursting into flames because of how badly you corrupted her with your filthy ways. I was an innocent, good girl until I met you. And now look.”

“You may have only been with two other guys before me, but there was nothing innocent about you. What went on those days? Even just that first day? Good girl, my ass.”

“I can’t help it that the voice and the accent brought out the nympho in me,” she says, and directs a swat to his ass before he heads around to his side of the bed. Watching as he removes the Glock remover and its holster from the lock box in the nightstand; slipping the latter onto his right hip before covering it with the bottom of his shirt.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Tyler reasons, when he catches her observing with wide eyes.

“And if all else fails, she probably has a garden rake you can borrow and kill someone with.”

He smirks. “It’s not too far-fetched to think maybe things between your brother and Salena are the real deal. What would she have to gain by banging him just to get to us?”

“Orgasms? Hopefully.”

“It makes no sense that she’d do that. Hook up with him to get to us. That’s way too much work.”

“None of this makes any sense,” she grumbles, and then sheds her housecoat in favour of pulling on a simple white and yellow striped Maxi dress over her bra and panties.

Tyler doesn’t argue with that.

“Okay, so we’ve established that it is possible Kyle knows nothing. But explain this to me: why would Mahajan give us Ovi if his intention all along was to come after you? Wouldn’t that just put Ovi in harm's way all over again? And why would he wait this long for revenge? The kid’s been with us for six years now.”

“I dunno, babe. He’s got his reasons I guess.”

“It’s been seven years since Dhaka. If he held a grudge against anyone, it would have been Saju. For not taking you out.”

“But he’s dead and I’m still here. So…”

“That line of thinking makes no sense,” she argues. “Why would he wait all this time to exact revenge?”

“Probably to catch me off guard.”

“Hmm...I guess…”

“Or maybe he was waiting until I had a lot to lose. So it would make a bigger impact.”

“That’s just fucked,” Esme declares. “And if that’s the way he thinks, he’s an even bigger monster than I thought. Waiting until a man has a family?”

“More lives destroyed that way,” Tyler reasons.

“That’s messed up.”

“You what kind of people these are. You’ve worked closer with them than I have. You were the one that would go in and make nice with them and get them to trust so you could get the info guys like me needed. You can’t tell me you didn’t hear and some fucked up shit.”

“Of course I did. But this is different. This is personal. We aren’t talking about random strangers we’ve been hired to help. We’re talking about OUR family. You’re not just some guy off the street that I barely know. You’re my husband. And those are my kids downstairs and…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to the kids. Or you.”

She scowls. “I noticed you didn’t put yourself in there.”

“I gotta do what I gotta do, yeah? Keep you and the kids safe. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Well it matters to me if you’re still breathing at the end of it. And can we not think all doom and gloom? If Salena is telling the truth...if she is who she says she is and she’s working for Neysa and her ‘people’ are keeping an eye on things...maybe things won’t escalate. Maybe it will just be all idle threats and nothing will come of them.”

“You really want to just sit back and hope nothing happens?”

“What else can do?”

He takes a seat at the end of the bed, grimacing at the pain in his knee and the small of his back. “I can eliminate the threat.”

“You said yourself that you can’t just walk into the prison and shoot him in the head. And it’s the people he has doing his bidding that we have to worry about.”

“So I stop them before they can cause issues.”

Esme frowns. “You’re talking about tracking them down first? Before they can even get this far?”

“Take them right out of the game before it even starts.”

“That’s a little risky don’t you think? How would you even know who these people are? I doubt Mahajan is going to willingly give you their names.”

“There’s ways of finding out.”

“How?” she asks, and leans back against the dresser across from her.

Tyler stares at her pointedly.

“Oh hell no!” Esme objects. “I am not getting involved in this.”

“You already ARE involved in this.”

“I am NOT going to Mumbai to talk to Mahajan. There is no way I’d be able to get information out of him. Why the hell would he tell me anything? If he really IS after you, he’s going to tell your wife who’s working for him.”

“I wouldn’t let you go there anyway. But you know people. You still have contacts in the game. Probably some that are in India right now.”

“People that I haven’t talked to in years,” she reminds him. “I can’t just call them up and ask them for help. It isn’t the same kind of relationship you have with your contacts. They’re glad to hear from you’; they’re happy you’re even still alive. Mine are hoping I’m dead. That’s a lot of burnt bridges, Tyler. And some of them? Going to them for help would only make things worse.”

“So you give me their names and numbers. I’ll talk to them.”

“And that would be better, how? I lied to them years ago and now I turn around and give their info to a mercenary? You can see why that would be problematic, right?”

“Then just give me their names and I’ll find their numbers another way. I don’t even need to bring you into it. They don’t need to know how I found them.”

“They’d figure it out.”

“Well we need to figure out who these people are. The ones working for Mahajan. Before shit does hit the fan.”

“WE don’t need to do anything,” she informs him. “Let Salena and her people take care of it. It’s what they’ve been doing, right? Keeping an eye on things?”

“I’m not going to trust complete strangers with your life. Or our kids’ lives. I’m just not.”

“So you’re just going to find out who these people are and hunt them down one by one?”

“If I have to.”

“Tyler...no...just no. How is that even an option?”

“It’s the ONLY option.”

“The hell it is! Salena and her people are already on this!”

“And I already said I don’t trust them. Not with you, not with my kids. I trust myself. And a couple other people. That’s it. And I’m not going to just sit back and and wait for things to go to shit. I need to stop it before it happens.”

“You don’t know that anything is going to happen.”

“I’d rather not take the chance that it will.”

Sighing heavily, she crosses her arms over her chest.

“You trust me?” Tyler asks.

“Of course I trust you. You're the only person I do trust. But I also love you and I don’t want to just send you out there to get killed. These are bad people. Extremely bad people.”

“I’m not some rookie going in blind,” he reminds her. “This is what I do. It’s who I am.”

“No. It’s part of who you are. There’s a difference.”

“And right now, I need to be that ‘part’. I need to be the old Tyler. And I need you to be okay with that. I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing it because I have to. You’re my wife. Those are my kids. And without any of you, I’m nothing. Which is why I need you to let me do this.”

Another sigh. Heavier this time. Resigned. “Can we at least give it two weeks? For the kids? Because we’re going away next week and then it’s Millie’s birthday shortly after. And we can not take that away from her. She’s a little girl. And she’s so happy and so excited and it’s going to break her heart enough when you leave and I’d rather her not find out until AFTER her party. Can you do that at least?”

He nods. “But if anything happens…”

“If anything happens then you go and take care of it. But for now can we just act like nothing’s going on? For them? Because they're kids and they don’t need to worry and stress over adult things. Can we just pretend around them that everything’s fine? Because it’s going to be hard enough when you leave without the anticipation of it hanging over their heads. Please? Can we do that?”

“Of course baby.”

He reaches out and takes hold of one of her hands, gently tugging her into him, placing her between his legs. And he presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist and then wraps both arms around her waist; pulling her tight against him, forehead resting against her chest. Eyes closing as he feels her hands on him. First in his hair. Fingers combing through it before her nails lightly scratch against the nape of his neck, then the tips running softly over the outer edges of his ears. And when her palms come to rest against his cheeks, he looks up at her, attempting a reassuring smile when he finds those huge dark eyes filled with tears.

She’s silent as he watches her. Fingertips travelling over the older scars that mar his face; the one across the bridge of his nose, then the left side of his forehead, followed by the one alongside his left. Then she moves to the one that he’d sustained during the incident at Michael McMann’s house. Starting at the top of his right eyebrow; spreading up onto his forehead and disappearing -for several inches- into his scalp.

She kisses him. So soft and sweet sweet...the tenderness and the love so evident...that it takes his breath away and nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” her voice is just above a whisper. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he says. “I promise.”

She manages a small smile and places a kiss on his brow. And he tightens his hold on her; falling backwards onto the bed and tucking her securely into his chest; one hand on the back of her head, the other on the small of her back. Feeling her body trembling against him and the tears that dampen the front of his shirt.

****

She plays the part of a perfect hostess; bringing out carafes of coffee and tea and a jug of ice water, along with plates of various small desserts and finger foods. Tyler had noticed the drastic change in her the moment she’d answered the door. Her usual flowing and brightly colored sundresses or tropical themed shorts and band t-shirts replaced with well tailored dress slacks and a crisp white blouse; her usual bare footed approach abandoned in favour of a pair of black heels. But her personality change is the most baffling. No longer loud and boisterous and bordering on obnoxious, instead both soft AND well spoken. Now that the truth is out -or at least part of it - she no longer has put on the front of the affable, annoying, and overly friendly new neighbour. Now she’s professional and courteous. Polite. And almost too apologetic. A continuous string of “I’m sorry” and “I wish things hadn’t come out this way” as she led them out onto the back deck. Telling them help themselves to food and drink before disappearing back into the house.

“Is it just me or did things just go from weird to really fucking weird?” Esme whispers to him as they sit side by side; their knees touching and his hand on the small of her back.

It’s comforting. The simple brush of his body against hers and his familiar scent; filling her with a sense of security and effectively calming her nerves. He won’t leave her side now, making sure she’s always close enough to touch, never out ear shot and certainly not out of eyesight. His protective nature kicked in high gear. And for good reason.

“It’s not just you.”

“It’s like we’re living in the Twilight Zone,” she mutters, and then issues a long, shaky sigh.

“It’s okay,” he assures her, as he rubs the small of her back. “Everything’s going to be fine. The worst could have happened already. If she was working for the other side, she would have had guys here to ambush us the second we walked in.”

“How do you know they’re not hiding inside for the perfect moment?”

“Not a rookie, remember? You have to trust me,” he presses a kiss to the side of her head. . “Just trust me.”

She manages a small smile and leans into him. A hand resting on his thigh and his lips lingering against her temple; hand slipping off her hip and up onto her side, rubbing comfortingly. Selfishly he enjoys having this role in her life: the fierce and loyal protector. It’s an ego boost knowing that she has that much faith and trust in him. And he knows he’s more than capable of living up to her expectations; confident in his strength, skills, and abilities.

“I promise none of it has been tampered with,” Salena comments upon her return, noticing that their cups remain empty and the food hasn’t been disturbed. “As I said earlier, I’m not here to hurt either of you. Or your children.”

“So why are you here?” Esme asks, her hand slipping from Tyler’s thigh as he moves beside her; pouring himself a coffee and her a tea. “And why the big production? Why show up out of the blue and act as if you wanted to be friends? You could have just been honest right off the hop. You think it would have bothered either of us? This isn’t the first time someone has threatened us in the past seven years.”

“I know it isn’t. I know everything there is to know about the two of you. About everything that went down in Dhaka; start to finish. And I know about your little return there. About Mumbai and Ireland and New Zealand. Information is easy to get when you know the right people.”

“And when you’re willing to pay big for it,” Tyler adds. “Something tells me Nik Khan helped you out quite a bit.”

“Nik and I have a very good working relationship, “ Salena admits, and Esme gives a derisive snort. “I don’t approve of her transgressions. Or attempts at them. But as far as business goes, she’s one the best there is. And we trust her completely.”

“Who is we?” Tyler inquires. “And who are you? Why don’t we just cut the shit and get down to it. You wanted us here to talk, so talk.”

“My name...my REAL name...is Allison Rav.”

“Rav?” Esme arches an eyebrow. “You’re related to Saju? How?”

“Related by marriage only. My husband...ex husband, I should say...is Saju’s youngest brother. Former special services as well. We parted on good terms and have remained friends. And business partners. After Saju died...correction, after he was murdered...Anil left the military and started things up; in Saju’s memory. A way of both honoring him and avenging him. This…” she lifts up one of the plates of food and removes a file folder -one of many- from underneath. “...is everything there is to know about it. About us. About who we are and what we do.”

She offers the file to Tyler and he accepts it; dropping it into the empty chair beside him.

“Are you a mercenary?” Esme asks, her body and nerves starting to relax; comforted by the mention of Saju’s name and the woman’s connection to him.

“Far from it,” Allison gives a dry laugh. “None of our people are. We strictly provide security. We’re trained to assess potential threats and stop them before they happen. But we do seek out mercenaries; when things because too volatile and need...permanent...results.”

“When you want guys like me to go in and put our asses on the line and get blood on our hands.” Tyler smirks.

“Our area of expertise and concern is providing support to those being harassed and threatened by the Mahajans and the Amir Asifs of the world. And there’s a lot of them. So when Neysa contacted us and said that she was receiving threats of bodily harm and death against her and her son, we didn’t hesitate to help. We have her and Aarav in hiding. A safe house just outside of Mumbai.”

“You really think that’s smart?” he asks. “Being that close to Mahajan and his people? Doesn’t leave much room for error. Why not move them somewhere further away? Other side of the world if you had to. Doesn’t make sense for them to be that close.”

“It’s what she requested; to be close to home. We move them when...and if...we have to. We ended up here..I ended up here...when Neysa ‘disappeared’ and Mahajan’s people lost track of her. That’s when he changed his game plan, so to speak. His first thought was that she came here. What better place to hide them with someone who could protect her and Aarav if need be? The person who worked with Saju to get Ovi out of Dhaka alive. What a turn of events THAT was. He was supposed to eliminate you and in the end you worked together. Not what Mahajan expected.”

Tyler gives a tense smile. “How about we NOT talk about Dhaka.”

“Fair enough,” Allison agrees, and pours herself a cup of coffee. “When he thought she’d come here, we were ready. We already had eyes and ears on the situation. He hadn’t sent anyone here or sent out any official threats, but we knew it was going to happen. So we acted first and got here as soon as we could. But things ARE picking up. He is escalating things. This is a man hell bent on revenge and will stop at nothing to get it. You both know what these kinds of people are like. They don’t care if there’s a woman and children involved. They’ll be their first targets to get to who they really want.”

Esme issues a heavy, shaky sigh and Tyler gives her a small, reassuring smile; arm wrapping around her, palm softly and comfortingly rubbing her shoulder. “It’s been seven years,” she says. “Why now? Why wait all this time? And why Tyler? Mahajan gave us his son. So Ovi could be safe and have a normal life. A real family. Why would he let us have him if this was his plan all along?”

“There’s two reasons,” Allison replies. “The first is that Saju failed his mission. Yes, he helped get Ovi out of Dhaka. But he didn’t eliminate everyone standing in his way. He wasn’t supposed to leave anyone alive. You two survived. And I understand why he didn’t kill you; he would never harm a woman in that way. I’m sure he looked at you and thought of Neysa and realized he couldn’t go through with it. But you…” she looks at Tyler. “...you put up one hell of a fight. He didn’t expect that.”

“What’s the second thing?” Tyler asks.

“Did Ovi tell either of you that his father has been in contact with him? On a regular basis?”

Tyler frowns. “What?”

“Even behind bars, Mahajan still holds a lot of influence and power in the drug world. He has a lot of money stashed away in several offshore accounts. Enormous amounts of money. He needs someone to run the business now that it’s booming again. And what better person to be his successor than his only son? But that kid is tough. Resilient. He isn’t giving in. He wants nothing to do with that kind of life and isn’t afraid to tell his father that. Which naturally has enraged Mahajan. He’s taken it as a sign of disrespect. Dishonour. And he’s not going to let that slide. He feels the only thing standing in Ovi’s way...preventing him from doing it...is the two of you. But especially you.” she nods in Tyler’s direction. “He thinks Ovi is completely under your influence and is only saying no because of you.”

“I’m starting to finally see why he wants into the game so badly.” Tyler says to Esme. “It isn’t about the actual job or the money. It’s about being able to protect himself. And us if he has to.”

“That’s why he didn’t want to tell us,” she laments. “Or why he gave us such bullshit excuses. Because he knew he’d have to tell us that he’s been speaking to his father.”

Tyler nods.

“Mahajan wants the obstacle removed,” Allison continues. “He really just wants Tyler out of the picture; he’s the biggest hurdle and true threat. And it would be a way of righting Saju’s wrongs. That’s why we’re here. To prevent any of that from happening. We’re here to protect you. Not hurt you.”

“I’m more than capable of protecting my own family,” Tyler informs her. “I don’t trust just anyone with this. And I’m especially not going to trust you. You could have just told us all of this right from the beginning. Not put on some big, ridiculous show.”

“Neysa asked us to keep this quiet. She didn’t want to scare either of you. Or your kids. And now that you’re getting back into the mercenary business, there’s an even bigger target on your back. Mahajan sees that as a direct threat.”

“He can take it whatever fucking way he wants. I don’t care if you and your people stay on the sidelines or keep in the background. But I’ll protect my own family. I’m more than capable of doing it and I know my wife and my kids trust me. They know I’ll keep them safe. Better than any of your people can.”

“He’s right,” Esme speaks up. “There’s no else I trust with my life. With my kids’ lives. And we’ve got people working for us that can always lend a hand if they need to. We don’t need perfect strangers fucking things up.”

“We’re highly trained,” Allison argues. “We’re more than capable of...”

“Tyler can do it. And that’s who I WANT doing it. I don’t care how highly trained you or your people are. No one can protect us the way he can. No one. And if that pisses you off and you pull your people out of here…”

“We’re not going anywhere. Neysa wants us here and this is where we’re saying.”

“I want to talk to your ex husband,” Tyler says. “There’s information I need. About who is working for Mahajan. Who these people are he has after us.”

“Anil expected you’d want to speak to him. That you would have a lot of questions for him. All his contact information is in the first folder I gave you. There…” she pulls the other files from under the plate of food. “...are your files. Everything we have on the two of you. There’s also a file about Dhaka and everything that went down there. And one with copies of all the threats that have been made so far. To Neysa and to you. I trust this information will be in good hands?”

Tyler nods and accepts the folders, placing them with the initial one she’d given him.

“We kept this secret because that’s what Neysa wanted,” Allison explains. “She didn’t want to alarm anyone. So I HAD to put on a good show. I had to get myself into your life. I had to get close to all of you and get you to open up to me and tell me things. And I know that you know what that’s like, Esme. Having to lie to people; fool them. Having to trick them into giving you what you want.”

“And my brother?” she asks. “What about him? You used him to get to us? He broke up his engagement for you. And all along you were just using him? Why did you have to stoop THAT low?”

“We do what we have to to get what we want. Kyle has no clue about any of this. I’d like to keep it that way. Because he’s a good guy and there’s feelings...legitimate feelings...involved now. On both sides. It started out as part of the job, but it’s become more. So much more.”

“Yeah…” Esme smirks. “...sure it has. Can we go now?” she addresses Tyler. “I really want to go. I’ve heard enough and I just want to get the hell out of here. I just want to go home.”

“We can go,” he confirms, and then gathers the folders off the chair and stands up. “I don’t want any of your people near my house,” he informs Allison. “I don’t want them watching me or my wife or my kids. Especially my kids. You tell them to back off. That I’m more than capable of protecting my own. Because if they get in the way and totally fuck things up? If that happens? You’ll end up a few employees short because I won’t hesitate taking them out too.”

Allison nods in confirmation, then stands as well. “We’ll continue to keep an eye on things. Just as Neysa asked. And if you need our help…”

A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he lays a protective hand on the small of his wife’s back. “I won’t.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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ilguna · 4 years ago

Text

Ethereal - Chapter Seven (f.o)

Summary: Five years of watching your trainees die, you’re sick of it. She will prevail, she will win.

Word Count; 4.2k

Warnings; swearing, DEATH MENTION, DEATH, GORE. hints at PTSD

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

“And how are you and Finnick doing?” Reed asks, your eyes flicker to the living room area.

Finnick isn’t there, but it’s just an instinct to look there now. You’re so used to him sitting there on the couch, staring at the tv, occasionally stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. But you’re always watching, waiting for something to happen.

He’s not here now because he’s in the betting area, organizing more gifts to send down to your tributes. Both of them are still very alive and healthy. Neither of them are sick, or bleeding out. And they’re following everything that you had taught them down to the last detail.

The only times you worry about them is during the night. Where one of them will take watch and ultimately, accidentally fall asleep. Then you’re forced to sit by and hope that the careers don’t come around. And this time skip the theatrics and go straight for the kill.

It’s been ten days for them, four for you. You’re starting to see the sleep deprivation toll on Paslee, he’s not used to going so long without sleep, any genius would be able to see. Annie is fine though, she’s still agile, and her mind seems to work faster. Though, she seems a little more paranoid than usual.

Two days after the girl from nine had died, the boy had followed. It’s suicide, that one is just too obvious. There must have been something between him and the girl, or maybe he just realized that he wouldn’t make it out alive. Sometimes the insanity of playing out the possibilities of how you can die, will drive you to do it yourself.

It’s not the first time anyone has seen a tribute do it. It’s just painful to watch, especially when the cameras will zoom in like it’s funny to watch. It’s not, for the district back home that has to watch, and for the mentor that tried to encourage them to win.

You hate to be happy by another dead kid down, but it increases the odds of your kids winning. Another death, another ticket back home.

Then, there was a six day gap after that. Nearly a whole week of silence, the tension was building, and you called it the second that it broke. Finnick had been sleeping–again–and you woke him in time to watch as the careers attacked on an alliance.

The boy from three, and the girls from eight and ten. The girl from eight had grabbed all the shit she could manage and took off like a bat out of hell. There was a small pop-up camera that was on her on the upper right of the screen, keeping track of her as she ran.

The girl from one had stayed at the camp for three and eight, but the girl from two went chasing after her. It must have been a plan, because she didn’t hesitate, and the other two hadn’t even had that moment of ‘should I chase?’. The girl from two’s eyes had darted to ten, and then took off.

The boy from three and eight are both dead, but not before they had gotten a shit ton of swipes in on the careers. Homemade weapons, but they were so incredibly flimsy. All it took was a hard enough hit against the swords and they crumbled in their hands. Basically to shards.

The girl was merciless, she didn’t spare them a short death, she dragged it out a while, because that’s the type of person she is. You know she was taking out the anger of her district mate dying out on them. The person she really wants is Paslee, and to get Annie would be amazing too. They’re bloodthirsty for revenge.

As for the girl from two who chased after ten, she should have let the girl from ten go. It was only a matter of time before ten had found a nice hiding spot and two went blasting past her.

Which led her directly into a pack of mutts. You never thought squirrels would be terrifying, but when they’re mauling, and knawing and screaming like they were, it’s absolutely terrifying. Her death was drawn out just like the others, and you know that the gamemakers loved having two different focuses going on.

Of course, they had to show the reactions of the other tributes that weren’t included in that fucking mess of a massacre. Annie woke up at the first scream, and Paslee hadn’t woke until the first cannon went off, the girl from eight. And then there was the second, the boy from three. And then the girl from two.

Annie and Paslee thought it was a joke for a moment, but they know that the gamemakers can’t just send out false cannons like that. They decided that it would be a good time to find a hiding spot, thinking that the careers would be hunting them.

They didn’t know that it was only one career but two others that had died. For all they thought, it could have been the alliance of three–Annie had come across them by accident and saw that they were working together–that died. The careers could have been the ones that came out victorious.

And considering the fight, and the fact that it was equal numbers, the careers had got amazingly lucky for winning that fight. Had the alliance had actual weapons, there would have been some serious damage done. They were the best people you’ve seen go up against the careers since you and Finnick were in.

Real weapons or just a little more time with the weapons they had built, and the careers wouldn’t have walked away at all. You’re just glad that they hadn’t walked away perfectly pristine. Boy from two was bleeding in several places, girl from one had a broken nose with a river of blood that wouldn’t stop.

Anyway, since those three have died, it’s been pretty quiet again. The careers are fixing their wounds, planning when they’ll go out again. You and Finnick think that it’ll be a while before they go after Paslee and Annie, since they’re obviously skilled in some combat, and with the careers already being injured, it would be a death sentence.

It’s why the sponsors are flooding all sides with gifts. Mostly the careers, and Annie and Paslee. The girl from ten has gotten a real weapon, and that’s about it. You wonder how long a sword will last on her behalf. You’ve seen her practice with it, and it’s going to get her killed.

“Hello? Are you still there?” Reed’s voice comes over.

Your eyes focus on the tv, seeing that it’s just your tributes making themselves a late lunch. You look back at the wall so you can focus again.

“Sorry, I got lost for a second. Finnick and I are doing fine.”

“That’s not an answer–”

You sigh, “I know, you want all the gory details but he’s not even sure if he’s coming home this time either.”

There’s a pause, “You and him are together?”

“I guess. Him and I have been a lot closer lately.”

Reed isn’t happy, “What happens when he doesn’t come home and you two have gotten as close as you did last time?”

Here we go, “I’ll be fine, I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“Are you going to cry yourself to sleep like you did then too?” he asks, and you close your eyes, “Are you going to play pretend for the cameras again?”

One deep breath, “I need to watch my tributes. I’ll call you if I’ll be going home sooner than expected.”

“(Y/n)–”

You place the phone back on the hook, before walking over to the couch.

Reed had absolutely no right pulling that card on you. He’s not the one that went through it all, and he doesn’t understand the amount of precaution, all the steps that you’re taking to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. If Finnick were to leave today and not come back for whatever reason, you would be fine without him.

You would be angry, reasonably. But you wouldn’t be as heartbroken as last time, because you’re grown up. You’re twenty years old, you’ve had four years to get over him and it’s no surprise that it came back up. However, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. And with that saying, you never hear a third time, because there is never a third time.

Finnick has given you a reason on why he wouldn’t come back with you this time. And because of this, you wouldn’t be mad at him. Irritated that he would believe that he’d have to take care of you, but you wouldn’t be mad. It would be his way of protecting you after everything that had happened to him in his time in the Capitol.

If he believes that the people of the Capitol would pounce on you immediately after this, and do some serious damage, then he wouldn’t take the chance.

You watch your tributes, as they eat and talk about things back home. Every now and then they’ll bring up someone from the district, teenagers you don’t recognize the names of. Then there’s the elders, famous for their fishing stories. Annie talks about you, Finnick and Mags. Paslee has some opinions about you guys.

And just like that, it seems like it’s stuck on them. Like they’re going through their own personal talk show. Annie will talk about the little things that you taught them, and she’ll muse about the little knots that she never knew existed. Then there’s a few rumors that had spread around about you, they come in waves each time you come home from the Capitol.

It’s mostly out of anger that you didn’t bring anyone home. But then again, parents and guardians aren’t teaching the kids the skills that they need to know–which they bring up–and you’re catching them up on the most mundane shit. She’ll bring up examples of the kids that came before them. About how the younger kids that got sent in didn’t know how to start a fire and she says that she knew how to do that when she turned nine.

Paslee agrees, saying that you spend your time teaching them the things that they should already know, instead of expanding off of what they would have already known and teaching them new things. You can’t just build a house with no foundation. But spend too much on the foundation and you have no time to build the house. Build it too quickly and it’ll fall.

You try to teach kids skills in a week, but had they been learning and memorizing for months or years, then they would have been able to do it with their eyes closed.

You hope everyone back home is hearing this, your district and others. Because she’s telling them what you can’t.

Right in the middle of one of Annie’s sentences, it snaps to the careers. Standing right behind Annie and Paslee, the girl from one has the sword behind her head. A grin forms over her face, and just when Annie turns to look at Paslee, the girl from one swings.

It’s like a train hits you. And you can see exactly what she has seen.

Paslee being decapitated–even though it’s not by her hands–is just the same as the girl from ten. When you had swung that sword out of fear of the girl from ten reaching it first.

The girl from one doing it, is not out of fear.

Annie’s scream breaks the microphone for a moment, and you find your legs slipping off the couch, hitting the floor as you lean forward. Eyes wide, mouth open.

She swipes her weapon of choice, and swings. This is what fear looks like. She catches the same wound that the girl from eight made two days ago when they had fought. The blood starts immediately. One is shocked and stumbles back, dropping her blood-soaked sword into the grass as Annie picks up the backpack.

She runs uphill, which is smart. One won’t be able to follow her up, and the boy from two doesn’t seem to want to follow.

However, you find yourself begging Annie to get away from the dam. Run parallel to the forcefield, getting closer to the dam is dangerous. Those cracks aren’t decoration, they’re a warning of what’s to come for those who aren’t careful.

When you see that Annie is running, you make your way out of the apartment. Skipping over the elevator and taking the stairs down, believing them to be faster.

Right when you get around the corner to the hallway where the betting room is on, you see that the door is being held open for you.

At the sound of your feet, Finnick’s head turns to see you.

You reach out to him when you get close, and he pulls you into the room. This is where Cashmere and Gloss are standing, proud of their little tribute. Cashmere has the widest smirk you’ve ever seen on her face, “Still think that they’re winners?”

“Only one died.” you tell them, “Your tributes are letting them slip through their pathetic fingers. First it’s the girl from ten, and now it’s Annie.”

Cashmere’s smirk falls.

“Your tributes are foolish to think that they can win two days after they had gotten the beating they were heading for. They’re cocky, impatient and unskilled. They’re over their heads, and it’s getting them killed, they’re making mistakes they can’t afford to make.” you laugh, “And who did they learn all of this shit from?”

Cashmere goes to launch, but Gloss grabs a hold of her and pulls her back. You turn your body away to the tv again to see that Annie is against the dam.

She’s barely standing, using the dam for all of the support. She’s sweating out all the water she must have drank today, and with the shade she’s turning, it looks like she might throw up. Annie drops her weapon, shedding the backpack for a moment as she falls to her knees in the stream of water.

Handfuls of water, and then she splashes it into her face. But the food doesn’t stay down, and the cameras go away from her while she has her moment. Instead, it goes to the girl from one, shirt pulled up to reveal that the gash is bigger this time. She must have used the little knife, because a sword wouldn’t have been fast enough for something like this.

You laugh when she gets angrier, yelling at the boy from two for doing nothing. The sword that she had earlier is now back in her hands and she holds it to the boys throat.

“Birds of a feather flock together…” Finnick mutters.

You finish it for him, “Until the cat comes.”

–

There is nothing more unsettling than watching Caesar show off the dam every morning when he starts the show. And when you say unsettling, it’s absolutely terrifying to watch. Because they’re doing this deliberately.

This is not for shits and giggles. There is nothing interesting about the dam. It’s made out of grey concrete. It looks like it could be a place for a historical tour for existing before the rebellion had taken place. There’s the cracks in it, showing that it’s durable.

But that’s the thing. They keep going back to it. They’re waiting, hinting at something that might happen in the future. They’re letting everyone know that there is something big coming in the future.

There’s nothing you can do for that. What would you be able to give to someone because of a dam breaking? You can’t warn her to run or anything, because that would be cheating, and the gamemakers would be sure to punish her for it. Even if she didn’t take place in it directly.

All you guys can do is hope that they understand that the dam is there for a reason. That it isn’t decoration, there’s something more behind it.

And with Annie’s mental state at the moment, you’re not sure she’s understanding any of this anymore. At least she isn’t sticking right next to it like the girl from ten. And she’s not directly in the path if it breaks, like the careers with how they’re at the cornucopia. She’s sticking off to the side.

If the others pick up on her mannerisms, then she might just be screwed. They’ll know that something is coming.

The decapitation had done something to her mind. It’s a traumatic event, you don’t blame her for freaking out. Her and Paslee were talking like nothing was wrong one second, and the next she’s looking over in time to watch his head get cut off. She’s paranoid–you see it in her movements.

She’s always worried that someone is around her. She’s losing more sleep down, and the only times she does sleep is when she accidentally passes out from exhaustion. She hugs herself, and rocks back and forth. Annie is constantly whispering to herself, things that the gamemakers choose not to pick up on, you guess. Out of her privacy, or they might have done it once and realized that is not the way they would like to portray her.

The women that go inside of the arena, come out broken in some way. For Mags, it was a little while later when she finally had that stroke that made it impossible for her to talk. For you, you caught typhoid, it ruined your body, you take colds like it’s going to be the end of the world now. And for Annie…

If she wins this–wait.

Let’s say that the dam does hypothetically break, would she survive the wave? It would all have to depend on whether or not she’s close for the blast, right? But on the other hand she would have to be out of the way for the concrete, and have to get hit when it’s just water. Assuming that she’s a fantastic swimmer like the rest of you–you’ve had a few that had no clue what they were doing in the water.

So it breaks, the concrete would be enough to kill people alone. Just get hit by it and you’re basically dead. The air leaves your lung, it hits a body part, mainly your head, and then you’re out of the game. So, when all of that has passed, and it’s just water, the stream will lessen up.

Yes, she should have a chance at winning.

So if she wins this year, then that means that she would be leaving the arena in a mental state she did not go in with. Her parents would have to take care of her, not like a child, because she’s still capable of being herself. You’ve watched Annie go from laughing at random times, seemingly out of it, to being dead silent, eyes vigilant as she leans over to grab her weapon of choice.

She’s still in there somewhere. You’re just not sure if you’ll get to her in time, and if a therapist from the Capitol, or a doctor from the district will be able to help her with this. The people from the Capitol don’t understand, and the doctors back home will be able to tell you a diagnosis and the medicine that might help.

The only people that she would truly be able to lean on would be you, Finnick and Mags.

And that can end in many, many ways.

Her problems could dig up your own memories that you’ve buried now. And soon, you won’t be as okay as you’ve been all these years. She needs someone that understands what she’s going through.

You’re not it. And if Finnick doesn’t go back with you to district four, then he’s not it. And Mags can’t talk her through it, so she’s not it.

You cycle through the medicines again, squinting, reading the descriptions, and then sliding past again. You pucker your lips at one that comes close, memorize the name, and then move on to the next.

“What are you looking for, miss?” the boy asks, you look up to see him with a twisted face, he’s confused. He can clearly see the medicines that you’re going back and forth on.

You look up to him, “An antidepressant.”

He looks to the computer, typing for a moment, and then he shakes his head, “We don’t offer that.”

“How much for a few pills?” you ask, “Two, three days worth?”

“I just said–”

You lean forward, “I know you guys offer mixtures that would work. How much?” and when he looks like he’s not going to tell you, you add, “I’m a mentor, not a moron.”

He lists the price, a couple thousand just for the mixture, and then a few more thousand for one pill. For her to get one single one, it would be over ten grand. And this is on the assumption that she would need multiple pills for one day, maybe even more.

You nod slowly, before standing up, “I’ll take three for now, under the name (Y/n) Gallows.”

You see a look on his face that you haven’t seen in years. It’s the one that brings up the memories of rumors, and years of having to dodge certain people to get it out of your head.

You learned what your nickname had been.

The Capitol chooses one thing about a person that stood out the most anytime. Starting during the chariot ride to the games.

You got yours at the end of the games, it’s pretty obvious why.

For a while, people called you The Executioner. Never to your face, but you heard it behind your back.

For Finnick, he’s the Peacock. The feathers represent his pretty face, and the danger that it brings because of it. He’s beautifully dangerous, and the people of the Capitol love him for it.

When Annie comes out of this, she’ll be known as the girl who went crazy just when it was down to four people. The districts will be wondering if she’ll also die to suicide like the boy only a week or two before her. Or if she’ll end up prevailing only to die by the end of the career’s sword.

The Capitol will be on the edge of their seats for this. Every single day.

You go to head back to Finnick, but you turn back to the boy, “I have a note I need to write.”

“You want this sent in immediately?” he asks.

“Send in the order and give me something to write on.” you tell him, and just by the tone of your voice, he scrambles.

He presses a few things on screen, and then motions to the technology at your fingertips. You pick up the virtual pen before leaning over the tablet.

‘This should help’, you write, ‘Time wisely’.

You drop the pen, looking at him, “Send in down in the next five minutes.”

Then, you turn and head back over to Finnick.

“How much did it cost?” he asks.

“Over-priced since it’s towards the end of the games. Ten thousand or so just to get one of them done.”

Finnick looks to you, “What happened to saving?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you motion to where the career victors normally sit, “But I’m short of a few friends.”

He smirks a little bit, “Got money to burn?”

“I’m sure you do too,” you nudge his shoulder.

Cameras flicker back to Annie, which is when the sponsor gift sound starts. Annie perks up, and she heads over to where the sound is coming from. When she catches the gift in her hands, she goes back over to where she was against a tree.

She moves the parachute out of the way, opening the top of the canister, and tilting her head to read what you wrote, which she whispers aloud, “This should help. Time wisely.”

And then you listen to the few sponsors in the betting room gasp as Annie holds up the pills. The whispers break out immediately about who would send a gift that expensive.

Annie looks up, “Thank you, (Y/n), Finnick.”

“She’s giving you credit for something I did.” You shake your head.

“It’s because she doesn’t know who’s cursive is who.” Finnick tells you.

You squint at the writing in surprise, because there’s no way that you wrote in it. But lo and behold, there it is. You wrote in perfect cursive.

“These fucking people are rubbing off on me.” you grumble bitterly, crossing your arms as you sink in your chair.

“It fits you, darling,” Finnick tells you quietly, “You’re one of us now. Embrace it and maybe they won’t have to take you.”

You look to him.

“They have a colonist point of view. Save the savages.”

You hate that he’s right.

Conform, or be tortured.

#ilguna #finnick odair #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair oneshot #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair ethereal #ethereal

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #301

“i was waiting for my chance to find the light”

Did you like the beach a lot more as a kid more than you do now? Why/Why not? I did. Everything was more fun as a kid. I never REALLY loved it, though, because I did and still do hate the heat and walking through sand and getting it stuck all over you. It's pretty much torture now because I have extreme difficulty walking through sand. Has there ever been a time where you just couldn't stop crying? Explain. I know I've had days many years ago when my PTSD was truly awful where I'd sob multiple times a day. What's your least favorite time of day? Why don't you like that time?Late afternoon, like around 3-4 or so. By that point I'm usually bored senseless and going downhill. Do you like your lips? Do you enjoy kissing? They're fine, ig. And I mean yeah, if I'm really into the person? Do you like any music from the American Idols? Which ones? Ngl, I don't even remember any besides Kelly Clarkson, and who the FUCK doesn't like "Breakaway." Do you like when people challenge you? If so, in what? No, I get nervous about embarrassing myself. Personally for you, is falling for someone way beyond your control? It is entirely out of my control. What's something other than a fruit that you love in milkshakes? (Ex.twix ) Mostly chocolate stuff, haha. What is your all time FAVORITE milkshake? Ever tried the Reese's Blast from Sonic? That's some A+ shit. What's the latest you've ever stayed up reading a book? No clue. When having a peanut butter & jam sandwich, what is the best kind of jam? Grape. Do you like to write poetry? Yeah, but it's been a long time since I wrote anything. I used to do it aaall the time, but now I have to be seriously motivated and dedicated to the idea. When you get mad do you cry? Absolutely. Would you ever consider modeling? No. I do think one or two model-esque photos of myself would be nice and possibly help my self-confidence, but it's not something I'm seeking out and paying for. Are you scared of crossing bridges? Not very, no. If they're kinda sketchy-looking, I might feel a tad tense, but I'm not really scared of them. Would you consider yourself clumsy? I am unfuckingbelievably clumsy. Ever bought ice cream from an ice cream truck? Yeah, sometimes Mom would let me and my sisters do that as kids when one came through our neighborhood. Have you ever had a poem or story published? No. If you had/have a kid would you ever let them get a tattoo? If they were of the appropriate age, of course. And if they were getting it done professionally and not at some party drunk with friends. They better be in a sterile environment with someone who knows what they're doing. Do you love guinea pigs? Absolutely. I had three or four as pets when I was a kid. What is the worst thing you ever did that got you grounded? Probably run away from home. Have you ever been chased by a snake? No... and this is a misconception. Snakes don't chase. They go for what they see as the safest escape route, and sometimes they identify your own chosen direction as where they wanted to head, too. Where do you wanna work? I want to be a freelance photographer. What awards have you won? A lot of "A honor roll" trophies through school, among other academic awards. I seriously don't know what happened to that intelligence. I also have dance awards and lots of childhood sports team stuff. Would you consider yourself good at taking care of kids? I don't think I am, no. I'm way too nervous and awkward around kids. I've had to babysit for my sister twice though, and Ashley told me the kids had lots of fun and had no complaints. I guess like... I can do it, I am just very, very uncomfortable taking kids under my wing. I worry about leading them in the wrong direction. How old would a guy have to be before you wouldn't date them? I don't know, it would really depend on how much I was into the person. I generally stick with the approximation of a ten year gap though being my limit, so I think maybe him being in his mid-30s would make me feel a bit too weird. Be honest, have you ever tried weed? No, but quite honestly, I'd probably try an edible. I refuse to smoke anything for my lungs' sake. I'm curious if medical marijuana would actually be beneficial for me. Has anyone ever broken up with you with a note? No, but uh... I have, lol. It's how I broke up with my "puppy-dog love" boyfriend in middle school. Literally after he asked me if I was thinking of breaking up with him, and I said no before handing him the note because I was just too scared to do it to his face. I know, that was absolutely awful. Never, ever do that to the most innocent boy ever, kids. He didn't deserve that. Do you have sensitive teeth? Kinda. What was the worst thing you ever did to get detention/suspended? I've only ever had detention once for having too many tardies to my first class of the day in high school. We'd frequently arrive to school just a few minutes late because I was fucking impossible to drag out of bed. Have you ever suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder? Yes. Do you suffer from nasal allergies? Yes. What's your favorite kind of pudding? I only really like chocolate pudding. Have you done anything really interesting lately? I guess you could consider starting a virtual partial hospitalization program "interesting." It's not the intensive version like my first was, but rather being shorter. I just really need something to get my mental health back on the tracks. What’s the latest really fun thing you’ve done? REALLY fun? Hell if I know. I don't experience "fun" a lot at all anymore... I only ever feel like, this watered down, unenthusiastic sorry excuse for it. Have you discovered any good music lately? Oh yeah, I've found lots of 3TEETH songs I'm mad into. "ULTRAnumb" by Blue Stahli is also a total bop. How about any good new television shows? No. Or perhaps some interesting books? Nothing new, no. Have you picked up a new hobby or learned a new skill? I mean, within what timespan? Nothing lately, really. Has anybody ever done your makeup for you? Yeah. Do you own any sparkly items of clothing? No. What’s the most colorful accessory you own and use? *shrug* Do you enjoy drag artists’ work? If so, name some of your favorites. Oh yes, I have wild respect for drag queens. I don't know enough of them to have a fair favorite, but I do watch Trixie Mattel on YouTube and he is a goddamn hoot. What, right now, is the best thing in your life? Um. I don't really know. Probably the fact my mother still lets my too-big-for-the-nest ass to live with her... I don't want to picture how my life would be if I didn't have her still essentially holding my hand. What’s a place you like to go to when you need to get away for a bit? I actually love car rides for this, so long as I can ride passenger and just blare my music and not talk. It's so odd, being afraid of driving but finding great freedom and comfort in just... going. Do you like apples? I love apples. Anything exciting coming up for you in the near future? I paid the deposit for my tattoo appointment, so it was officially scheduled in May!! I was expecting an open date to be kinda far with just how amazing this parlor is, so I wasn't too shocked to hear I have to wait a few months, but man I can hardly wait. When you get an account for something, what's the first username you try? Unless it's for a "professional" site, in which case I'd use my actual name, I just about without fail with use "Ozzkat," or replace the "o" with a zero if that's somehow taken. Would you be okay with a friend wanting to date one of your exes? Which ex? What kind of accent do people typically have where you're from? Southern. Does history interest you at all? Can't say it does. What's something you wish you could do-over? There are many things, man. Is your hair in layers or is it all the same length? Neither, really. The left side of my head is very short/shaved, and as the hair goes around to the right, it gets longer. There aren't "layers," though. Is there anyone who you're afraid to be in a car with, if they're driving? I wouldn't say afraid, but with my sister's road rage and serious tail-gating issue, riding with her can make me nervous. What's something you're very good at? Um, I guess creative writing. Do you like sour gummy worms? oh FUCK yeah Would you pick up a hitchhiker if they seemed harmless? No. I am way too paranoid for that shit. Would you be bothered if your boyfriend liked to bite you? Uhhh I'm going to assume you mean this in a sexual context, in which case I don't care so long as it's not in a visible spot. How often do you get the opportunity to be completely alone? The answer used to be a shitload, and seeing as I'm in my room most of the time, I still feel like that's kind of true, but since Mom's cancer diagnosis and she had to stop working, she's usually home with me. I like it that way, though. Total isolation is bad for me. Do you have a trampoline? Nah, haven't in many years. What's your favorite Pixar movie? Finding Nemo. What is the strangest thing you've been asked? Something sexual that made me extremely uncomfortable. What’s the weirdest thing about life that people just accept as normal? The fact we put so much worth into pieces of green paper. What's the most random thing you've done out of boredom? *shrug* What show did your parents not let you watch as a kid? There weren't any specific shows that we even wanted to watch that Mom forbade us to see... I mean she certainly wouldn't let my sisters and I watch something like South Park as little kids, but none of us really sought unsuitable shows out. We were all about Disney, Nick, and Animal Planet in my case. What is the most pleasurable feeling that doesn't involve anything sexual? What comes to mind first is a big hug from someone who makes you feel safe when you don't anywhere else. What was your last "oops, wrong person" moment? I'm going to assume I sent somebody a text meant for another person. I'm super careful about avoiding stuff like this because I get horribly embarrassed, so it's difficult to recall the last time I slipped up. What do you find attractive that isn't considered "normal" attraction? Having a broad imagination and drive to create. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk? N/A What's something you really enjoy, but can't have? A pet tarantula because Mom refuses to let me lmao. I'm so into them now and desperately want a Grammastola pulchra. What Wikipedia article have you recently read? I haven't read any recently. What subject should be taught at schools, but isn't? Basic adulting and financial skills. What is the worst game you've ever played? I dunno. I've played sooooo many video games throughout my life. What tragic event was coincidentally beneficial to you? My overdose because it led to an intensive partial hospitalization program that totally changed my life. What did you think was cool when you were younger that you now think isn’t? Good question... What are your favorite or most memorable lines from any movie/show? I vaguely remember the concepts of some quotes, but not well enough to recite them. None that are seriously memorable or heavy pop up in my head now. What's a good example of 'Don't knock it till you try it'? Putting peanut butter on top of waffles with syrup. It is fucking delicious. What's your go-to get pumped up song? 5FDP's cover of "Mama Said Knock You Out" is badass HYPE. What's the dumbest thing your parents have said or done? Well, through a family assessment before my current partial hospitalization could begin, I very recently learned my dad fucking did drugs before my sisters and I were born, including shit like cocaine. That was great to suddenly learn. As for my mom... probably have a kid too young? She doesn't talk very much about her eldest daughter's history with (and without) her, but I know enough to know that was a very rocky time in her life. What are some things you wish existed? Cures for countless illnesses, and I also have SUUUUUCH a yearning for some kind of technology that could copy an image in your head onto a drawing device. If only I could draw how/what I see up there... Which person shaped you the most? Jason. Or Mom. What’s the one movie you couldn’t finish? Why? Couldn't tell you; I just haven't watched enough. What's a small thing you have a big passion for? Meerkats, quite literally with "small" lmao. What change have you made recently to help the environment? I have metal straws I try to remember to bring with me if I go out to eat. What was the hardest thing you've ever had to forgive? The way Jason left. Is there anything or anyone you're angry at, that you haven't forgiven yet? I sometimes question if I truly have forgiven Jason. I lean kinda heavily towards yes, I have, I'm just bitter about it all regardless. Have you ever plotted revenge against someone? No. Have you ever done anything to get revenge against someone? I can't think of anything off the top of my head. What is the greatest longing of your heart? To feel purpose. Who was your first love? Some guy in high school who "had" to talk to me upon seeing me the first time, only to wind up wanting to hear nothing from me later on down the line. What denomination is your church (if you go)? N/A What was the first year you voted in a presidential election? This most recent election, actually. Have you ever been afraid of the world ending? I used to worry it would happen in my lifetime, but now I don't. If it ends, it ends. I ain't got much to lose nowadays. What is unfair about your life? My mental health. My financial position. I'd rather not focus on the billion shitty things going on in my life rn, so next question. Did you write love poems when you were younger? ugh Who are you jealous of and why? There's a lot of people I'm in some way envious of, honestly. Have you ever had an account of yours hacked? Yes. Thankfully nothing major happened. Have you ever been a victim of police misconduct? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''creatures x: to the grave'' by motionless in white

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mieczyhale · 4 years ago

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a messy explanation of things and unnecessary information about life lately

soooo... right. i’m sorry i haven’t really been around aside from popping in here and there, and that i’ve been taking longer than usual to reply to things / not replying to things at all. it’s NOT that i’m upset with anyone or trying to ignore / avoid anyone, and it’s not that i don’t care / don’t love talking to you (whomstever you may be) i love chatting with y’all and wish i could get myself to reply to things quicker but i do not control the me lmfao honestly my sleep has never had a schedule but in recent weeks it’s kinda been operating like there’s a lil gremlin in my head who spins a wheel and picks my sleeping times at random - and it’s either like.. two hours or most of a day. there hasn’t been a lot of in between so that’s a thing!!

also in a fun added mix of maybe sleep?, missing meds, being stuck in the house more often than not, and the FUCKING EVERYTHING happening in the world right now my mental health is... probably run by the same goblin that runs my sleep schedule lmao consistency whomst?? since the lockdown started the depression has of course been around more but actually, worse than that, is how my anxiety - and by extension: my ocd - have really amped up and i need y’all to know that the struggle is painfully real (and another thing that affects shit like my replies and writing. reading as well. fics have been kinda stressful and that should be illegal. who authorized this?) i don’t hate talking about it but i don’t really like it either?? especially like.. in depth. but i will say there has been crying, screaming, pain!, and i’ve acquired a few physical injuries.

yeah

on a personal level - a ‘just me’ level - shit is an even bigger mess than usual lmao but all these things will get better eventually - they always do.

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

NOW

ON A PERSONAL LEVEL - THE FULL LEVEL - THINGS.... are pretty great actually! i mean aside from the state of my fucking house e__e but Josh has been working from home for two (2) months now and it’s been really nice - people complaining about their partners being home?? can’t relate. yknow what?? i just might love that tall bastard even more from all this.fuck all y’all miserable fucks

we’ve been going out for drives and we’ve gone fishing and the only place i’ve gone too that’s re-opened is goodwill. because i require.. the shop. they do have a masks required rule! (at least at the one here) and, alongside that, the places we’ve gone that never closed (like grocery stores and the gas station and the hardware store) have social distancing rules and stuff in place which i love. can we keep social distancing after this is all over?? more things here in wisconsin are opening up and we might go to some. idk though. we also might not. either way its still a weird kind of exciting to see things opening back up?? even though i do think we’re not totally in the clear because most of our gov. sucks (our mayor tried to extend our stay-at-home order - keyword there is TRIED. we are the land of cheese, cows, and no fucking braincells for anyone)

having pets is obviously not a new thing for me but it’s still a thing. so it takes time and effort and energy and patience and love and a certain disregard for your own safety (claws. they really be as sharp as you think) so... it can be stressful, especially cuz we’ve had to keep them inside more as it gets hot out and something keeps breaking our porch screens (our cats are allowed onto our screened in porch or they can go out in a harness but we will never let them run free outside. fuck that noise) my bbies are all so cute and their personalities and idiosyncrasies are just... *chefs kiss* i love em and they’re definitely a part of what has made quarantine better

i’ve seen my mom a few times, like for my birthday and when she needed help moving Isaiah from one dorm to another and such, but that’s primarily been an option because she has become anti-mask and anti-stay-at-home-order. initially she wasn’t - she gave Isaiah and i fun lil masks since at that time trying to buy them would be impossible and she thought nothing of staying home - but i guess either as its dragged on or as she’s consumed her middle-right wing news that changed s o. she does take social distancing in public very seriously though, so at least there’s that. our favorite coffee shop, where we - pre-lockdown - always went one (1) or two (2) times a week to do art for hours re-opens on monday and that’s one of the few things i’ve truly missed.

josh’s camping trip for this weekend with his friends had to be cancelled because the parks weren’t going to open in time. so today they’re going somewhere to do at least some of the things they would have done if they had gone camping. bikes, bonfires, and cigars. i’m kinda jealous negl but he was really excited about it so mostly i’m happy

trying to figure out how human services was running things during lockdown was rough but thankfully it didn’t take much to get it sorted. mostly because my mom made the phone call i was supposed to lol (the phone anxiety is on its own level) so wednesday afternoon my mom sat with me while i had the appointment with my psychiatrist over speakerphone (which was.. an experience)

ummm.....

OH YEAH! Probably absolutely my favorite thing that’s happened is: WE’RE STARTING THE SEARCH FOR A NEW HOUSE!!!! it doesn’t mean we’re gonna be moving soon or anything, we don’t want to make the same mistake twice (buying the first house you tour that you love) because while it is a great house ultimately it is way too small for us. i mean there’s me and josh, all six cats, and ALL OUR SHIT. listen: i have an entire room dedicated to my various hobbies. and a walk in closet that isn’t big enough. and we both have collections we love and want to display (right now upstairs its hello kitty and downstairs its astronomy and the titanic. and then there’s pop figures, mtg, collectibles, our bottle collection and various knickknacks, etc.) plus all our books! then furniture and cat furniture (i.e towers) and all their shit because they are spoiled babies. and god forbid we ever have a human kid?? yeah. it’s just not big enough.

so we’re gonna take more time with this choice but what we do know is:: we wanna live out in the country (i’m paranoid and don’t like to be looked at and he loves the outdoors, lived on a farm for awhile. i also enjoy the outdoors but mostly since we moved into this house i’ve struggled with doing anything outside... while we only have one neighbor on our road. but there’s one across the road and one at the other side of our backyard and that’s just too much lol)

lets see.. um.... my birthday was may 2nd and that was pretty nice, for a pandemic birthday. there’s been a lot of stuff happening involving josh’s family but that’s not something i really wanna get into on here, tho i will say things have been better in recent weeks and it’s been... really nice. josh and i went to his mom’s house the other night and got drunk with her for fun and i actually had a really good time?? and didn’t complain about going?? that’s kinda unheard of.

i don’t have a job anymore - haven’t since early march-ish - and it kinda sucks but also the universe really did me a solid because my choices were either allow myself to work until i have a mental break again or quit. and i was leaning towards quitting (things had been going down hill with the owner and other employees and just the business as a whole for awhile and there’s a limit to the amount of bullshit i can take thanks) but now it doesn’t seem i have to. why do i think i’m jobless? i was barely working anyway, bc of the snow business was slow, and in march i got really sick and stayed home for a week. the day i was supposed to go back i was still sick, and covid19 was starting to become more of a serious situation everywhere, so josh called in for me and explained that between still being sick and my anxiety over covid (asthma + a not so great immune system) i wasn’t going in that day. i never heard from them again. so.

but it’s all good - there are some options but i’m not looking into them seriously until it’s safe to.

THAT’S ALL OF FUCKING THAT ON THAT

i felt it wouldn’t be a bad idea to come on here and explain A. what’s been going on and B. where i’ve been and C. that if i haven’t responded to you or acknowledged something you sent me / tagged me in it’s literally just because i either forgot to (for all reasons and none) or i don’t have the mental space / energy to. but that doesn’t mean you have to stop talking to me! even if i don’t respond or respond immediately i do read everything and i would die for any one of you fuckers (especially my clowns and the tom hardy movie)

oh! and just btw - sometimes i don’t get notifications (quelle surprise) tumblr and skype should really pair up and talk about their truly great systems that function so well /s 8| ANYWAY: the best and most reliable ways to get my attention are twitter ( @/mieczyhale) and discord (same name) because i have yet to see their notifications fail. ahem.

i feel like i’m missing things / forgetting things but honestly this post is long enough and also enough of a rambley mess that i’m just gonna try and ignore that feeling and carry on with my goddamn day so i might actually accomplish something. sorry if there’s spelling off or missing words. i’m not taking the time to re-read this and might even delete it bc it’s already giving me anxiety bUT WE’LL SEE ALRIGHT HI AND BYE I LOVE YOU GUYS <3

#might delete later?? probably?? havent decided.#maison speaks #tinysquidrachel

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kimshavacado · 5 years ago

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Dead Heat Ch. 5

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Awkwardness

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but I’m back in the country and ready to write! Be prepared for more of the guys to make appearances in this chapter. Please enjoy these wonderful words I’ve so carelessly thrown onto this site.

Chapter 5: Never Have I Ever

***Jimin’s POV*** Jimin finished the drink in his hand before grabbing another from the closest bartender. He wasn’t really keen on spending the night sober. Not when he had to look over at you sitting at the front table with Yoongi. He was losing you, and in more ways than one. It was only a matter of time, so why not take advantage of all the free alcohol? Maybe Jimin could just forget that entire night and rid himself of the situation he found himself in.

He knew he had definitely succeeded in one aspect when he woke up laying face down the next morning feeling like shit. He let out a large groan and buried his face deeper into the sheets that he then realized were not his own. They were too soft and warm. He groggily raised just his head trying to get a grasp in his surroundings. The room seemed a bit familiar until he lost the strength to place it in his mind. His head fell back down as he submitted to become one with the mattress. “Jimin!” Someone shouted outside the door to the bedroom. Almost imediately the door was swung open as someone bursted inside.

“Bro we gotta go, come on.” He then knew where he was.

Jimin sighed deeply into the sheets before looking up to see an impatient Taehyung.

“The others are downstairs. An important meeting or something. Let’s go, put on some clothes.” Jimin lazily rolled his body out of the bed and was greeted with a throbbing headache. He should’ve taken it easier last night. When he left the room with Taehyung, he was still confused as to what was happening at the moment. “What the hell Tae? Why am I here?” Jimin asked. “No idea, but everyone’s back. I figure we’re about to find out.” When they reached their destination, they found several familiar faces gathered around the table. “Hey there sleepy head!” A loud voice chimed from the table, ringing through Jimin’s head. “Ugh, Hobie it’s too early for that volume.” Jimin responded to the cheery friend. “Yah! I’m the one who had to drag your drunk ass out of that party last night. Let me do as I please!” He complained right back at him. Jimin just groans and throws himself into a chair next to Taehyung. Tae was about to say something to Jimin when another person entered the room, causing everyone to look up. Once he noticed that he had the complete attention of the room, he got straight to the point without a greeting to anyone. “Due to my father’s current state, I’ll be taking over duties for the time being. Starting today we’ve pulled everyone back from their assignment. Min has been gathering too much information from us lately. As it turns out, he has as many spies as we do. You will all be confined to the house for a short while until we figure out what they have on us. Don’t contact anyone outside of here. Any questions?” “What about the fact that Kim’s daughter is a Min now? Are we gonna do anything about that?” Taehyung asked, causing Jimin to listen a bit more closely. “We’ll deal with that when we’re better able to gauge the situation.” The thought of “dealing with you” ran through Jimin’s mind but he immediately buried it deep down. He never thought that it would ever have to happen, and secretly hoped that he wouldn’t have to be the one to do it. But by burying the thought, Jimin came to a sudden realization. “Kook, how much do we think they know?” Jimin asked, noticeably more worried than everyone else. “We’re not sure yet, but they have enough.” Shit. He had come to terms with the fact that one day you would find out, but damn he felt worse than he thought he would. That’s what he got for spending so much time with you instead of the guys. Maybe the time he had to spend confined with them would remind him why he’s here. But right then he felt like… well… shit.

***Y/N’s POV***

You have been spending quite a bit more time with Yoongi. It’s not like you’ve been spending every second with him, he is busy very frequently. But in the evenings you eat meals together and drink tea while sharing stories. And honestly, it’s a good distraction from everything to get to know him.

It’s been so long since you’ve met someone new. You haven’t really had to get to know anyone new since you were a kid. Then again, you’re not really close with anyone right now as it is. Maybe Yoongi is the person you know most about in your life. What a strange idea… You find Yoongi very different but also very similar to yourself. You were both made from the same mafia boss archetype complete with tragic backstories, but it went even beyond that. Your conversations were pleasant because he had the same sarcastic banter abilities as you. You think you two could’ve been friends in a different situation. You two have a pretty good bonding routine until one day Yoongi doesn’t eat with you. You find yourself feeling sad that he’s not there, but blame it on the lonliness of being stuck inside all the time. But that lie you tell yourself doesn’t stop you from waiting up for him. From your regular tea spot, you hear him come home around 10. You peak towards the front door only to see how much he looks like shit. You have the urge to tell him so, since it would be amusing to see his annoyance, but instead you offer him tea.

That’s out of character, you shouldn’t get used to being soft on him. But you don’t really know where you stand with him. You two are starting to get close, but you keep associating him with the shit you discovered in his office. You need to pull yourself together. He doesn’t respond to your tea offer and instead drops his stuff and head straight into the kitchen. There he rummages through cabinets and pulls out some liquor. “Wow, that kind of day huh?” You ask. “Yeah. I just… do you want some?” He offers. “Absofuckinglutely.”

You two attempt to have a normal night after that, only the tea is replaced with alcohol. You find out that damn, Yoongi can drink. He’s an unhealthy number of drinks in and has become a whole new person. He’s like a child, animated, easily distracted, and a little bit paranoid.

You aren’t doing very well either being that you can’t seem to form complete sentences. You two had definitely lost it, especially when you started playing Never Have I Ever. How classy of you. “Bullshhhhiiiit!” You screech. “There’s no way you have never experienced that in your life!” “I enjoy taking things in life slower.” He defends. “Gaaaah but it feels soooo good! "Listen I’m just not into that sort of shit.” “…It’s not some weird kink, it’s just roller coasters.” “Yes but I don’t enjoy the idea of being hurdled through the air so exposed like that.” “It’s so FREEING though!!!” You attempt to push your feelings about roller coasters onto him, but your power doesn’t seem to work on him. He just sits there and stares at you until you give up. “Fine, then. Never have i ever married someone against their will.” It’s a low blow, and you realize how low when Yoongi’s face sinks. He sighs and downs the rest of his drink. There’s a moment of awkward silence before he gives you a serious glare.

“Fucking drink, Y/N.” Now you felt bad. You knew that he probably hadn’t planned for this to happen either, but you said it without thinking. You take your last sip and look back towards Yoongi.

“I’m- ”

“You should probably go to bed.” He says without looking at you. You can’t tell if he’s angry at you. All you know is that Yoongi might be the only one you have for a while so you can’t afford to be on bad terms with him. When he stands from the couch you desperately stand as well.

“Wait! I didn’t… I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want this either, I’m just…”

“Drunk.” He finishes the sentence for you.

“Yeah. I… I think I want to be friends with you, so please don’t let my harsh drunk personality make you hate me.”

“You think? What does that mean?” It’s then when you realize how close you’ve been standing to him. You’re practically toe to toe. If you were sober you’d probably back off a bit, but drunk you is a bit too worried about other things.

“I’m… not really sure.”

There’s a long moment as Yoongi’s face relaxes and you two separately ponder your relationship. You find yourself still lost in thought when Yoongi lowers his head for a breathy laugh. He looks back up to you, places a hand on the side of your face, and stares at you for a moment.

You internally panic since drunk you is not equipped to deal with something regrettable happening right now. You literally hold your breath.

“Go to bed.” He says as he lets you go. “You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.” He begins to walk away, leaving you dazed. Eventually you catch yourself and call after him.

“I’ll bet you’ll feel worse, you drank like twice as much!” He laughs at this and turns away, heading to his room before calling back to you in a mocking voice.

“Goodnight wife!” This man was testing your patience.

A/N: The boys all have a role to play in this story so stay tuned. I start a new job this weekend that involves managing children so we’ll see how my update timeline turns out. Once again, I appreciate your lovely selves. :)

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds

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the118firefam · 5 years ago

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POSITIVE 20 QUESTIONS TAG GAME

thanks to @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover for tagging me. love you, hun ❤️. this was rlly rlly fun.

1. Name 4 fictional characters who showcase your personality the best, with explanations if you want.

> A mixture or Charles Boyle and Amy Santiago. She's nerdy and she's high strung which is completely me and Charles is a romantic who tends to go a lil overboard with his affections and tends to obsess over stuff

> Castiel. I think I see a lot of me in him? I mean, he doesn't feel like he fits in, but he's constantly trying to and he's trying to do good in the world – bad choices, good intentions, am i right? So, yeah, him.

> Uh, Chidi Anagonye

> Oh, Howard Wolowitz. Yes, 110%.

Basically, all different kinds of nerds oops.

2. Aesthetic:

I searched it up! I guess, it's the minimalist aesthetic. My goal is to be simple but bangable lol.

3. Favorite musical/play? If you've never seen a musical or play, one you'd be interested in seeing?

I watch plays which are generally in my native language so, there's this one I watched very recently "Chitkar" which was the story of a paranoid schizophrenic who has extremely violent urges and has killed 3 people because of which her entire family has given up on her but she is admitted to a mental clinic where this one doctor really spends time with her, establishes a friendship and her entire journey with that. It's very intense but it's amazingly done.

4. What's the best compliment you've ever received?

Ooh, that's a tough one. A couple of days ago, this friend of mine and I were talking about Gilmore Girls and how it went to shit after a couple of seasons and I pointed some of my observations out and she's like "oh, wow, that's really good. you should've been the creative head. i'd watch the show, then." and it made me feel really good about myself.

5. How many times have you been in love?

Do fictional characters count?

Nah, I've never really been in love. Thought I was twice but come to think of it, I really wasn't.

6. Embarrassing story or fact about yourself which now makes you laugh?

Hm, there was this once when I was in school and we had this school assembly thing and since I was one of the class heads, I had to keep order and blah blah. Now, there I was, standing, trying to be tough when I see this guy I had a crush on and I... trip. To save myself from a really bad fall, I catch hold onto the next thing and it was a broom which was a really bad idea because even though it stopped me from falling, the broom fell out of the bucket along with all the water and created so much noise that everyone's eyes were on me while I stood there, dipping a broom. Lol.

7. Favorite Disney/Pixar movie?

INSIDE OUT.

8. Favourite plant/tree?

Uh, most definitely jasmine. Yup.

9. What's your favorite holiday?

Holi. Yeah. I tried to think of any other but goddamn, the amount of fun I have during Holi. Wow.

10. Name three things that made you smile/laugh this past week.

> I've been watching a lot of the Big Bang Theory so, that.

> My dad. He's a funny guy.

> R!verdale crack videos. Oh God, they're hilarious.

11. What song would you play to introduce yourself to someone?

Heat of the Moment (by Asia)? Cos all of my decisions are very spontaneous. Does that make sense? Eh.

12. Name something that truly makes you peaceful even at your most stressful moments.

Praying. I pray a lot. Which is kinda unseen for a 17 year old, gen Z. But, yeah. And listening to some very calm tunes.

13. What do you, did you, or would you study at college?

I start college this year and I'm planning on getting my Bachelor's in Psychology.

14. This is kind of a weird one, but which outfit of yours makes you feel most like yourself?

My plain white t-shirt, black denim jacket, blue jeans and converses. I feel very "me".

15. What is a quote you live by?

It's this quote from the show One Day at a Time which goes : Don't quit before the miracle happens.

And the quote of how everyone you meet is going through something you don't know about.

16. Name the funniest playlist name you have.

I, don't make playlists? Oops, sorry guys.

17. Make a reference to an inside joke you have with someone you love with zero context.

I can't remember any. WHat the fuck?

18. What is a message you'd give your younger self if given a chance?

Don't try and fit in. It's okay the way you are. I know you were inadvertently dragged into the "cool" group but, speak up if you find something to be wrong. There's no harm in that. Honey, be yourself. Try to find peace with who you are before you go out to find love.

19. Who is your favorite family member? (If you have no good blood family members, feel free to mention someone in your found family)

My nephew. He's two. He's by far, the cutest lil bean and he hits me a lot but I've never known happiness better than when I'm with him.

20. What's a secret dream of yours?

To open a bookstore. It's something I really, really wanna do. A vintage bookstore with pillows on the ground and bean bags and soft music playing and maybe a dog who just goes and cuddles with anyone who looks like they're upset.

#huh #i did this #put a lil bit more of myself into the world #oof #oki cool #thnx

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theoddcatlady · 6 years ago

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My Friends Went On A Roadtrip Through Europe

The only reason I didn’t go on the ‘greatest trip of our lives’ was because I was in a car accident that nearly killed me.

It was bad. I wasn’t able to get out of bed without assistance for that first month. Broken leg, busted up ribs, I looked more like a boxer that just got out of a match gone bad than a recent highschool graduate who was planning on going to college as a psychology major.

My friends and I had been planning this trip since our freshman year in highschool. I know. It was fucking stupid. But we promised if we all graduated with a grade average of 3.5 or better and if we all scraped together the cash from after school/summer jobs, we’d take a road trip through Europe. Somehow we actually managed to do it, our parents were so impressed that they even kicked in some cash. The silly dreams of fourteen year olds were coming to life.

Whitney wanted to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower. Jade was all about Austria, she wanted to see where the Sound of Music was filmed. Jonah planned to eat all the chocolate he could stomach in Switzerland. Me? I wanted to see the countryside of every country- mountains, rivers, the ocean… But one week before the plane was supposed to take off, well, the accident happened.

I told my friends to go without me, but I made them promise to constantly send me updates and tell me how much fun they were having. So they left- Whitney, Jade, Jonah, Holden, and Tori. I even gave them a portion of the money I saved up so they could go crazy.

At first, everything was normal. I got pictures, they even sent me a package from England full of lil knick knacks and snacks. I hated the Irn Bru but the Cadbury chocolates were to DIE for. But everything went wrong shortly after Austria.

Below are the emails and messages my friends sent me when they had the time. These all take place over about three weeks. After that, everything goes silent. Their parents have yet to hear from them. They’ve filed missing person’s reports, but I think if any of them are still alive… they won’t want to be found.

From: Jade

Jesus CHRIST, you will not believe what happened last night, Lilah.

First off, let me make abundantly clear that no one is dead, and no the trip is not over yet. We got really lucky. Second off, Jonah is a fucking moron and I swear to god once his stitches are out I’m ripping him a new one.

Okay so last night we were out a bit late, we all got a little tipsy and we were heading back to the hotel. Legal drinking age is eighteen, it’s not like that time we tried to sneak into Beverly’s with those fake ID’s. On the way back, we stumbled across another drunk who made a pass at Jonah. And you know Jonah, his drunk ass reacted loudly and violently. I swear he was about to make a swing at the guy… but the other guy swung first.

I swear, the drunk guy fought like an animal, Jonah didn’t stand a chance. We barely managed to rip Jonah away from him before he ripped his throat out. It was bloody and MESSY.

We got Jonah to the nearest emergency room, got him patched up, headed back home to sleep it off. How much do you wanna bet that he won’t remember it in the morning?

I’m gonna hit the sack. Jonah is a moron.

From: Jonah

Jade told me she sent you an email about the fight. She really needs to chill, I’m really not that bad off. Besides, the guy was a creep.

I do remember what happened, despite what she thinks, we were heading back when, get this, strange guy complimented my SKIN. Said it looked smooth and rosy. That’s not even flirting anymore, that’s just creepy! I mean, he was totally your type, tall, dark, handsome, blue eyes and a bit of scruff on his face, but noooot mine.

I’m fine though, you can barely tell where the guy got me. I think he had a knife because I got ripped. Up. Can barely tell now, he must’ve just grazed me.

We’ll be looping back up and heading for Poland next. Gonna cross through Germany to do that, but I don’t mind the drive. Besides, Germany = MORE BEER.

Miss you, next time you will totally have to come along.

From: Tori

I really wish you were here. I miss you so, so much. How is your therapy going? I hope it’s going well, you really missed out on some beautiful views today. The camera doesn’t quite capture it, but I hope to paint it once I’m home with my supplies. Maybe I can bring a little of this place back to you.

I think I’m just homesick. I might cut my trip short and head back, I’m really worried about you.

From: Whitney

Did you talk Tori out of going home yet? I don’t think she’s willing to admit how spooked she got when that bum attacked Jonah. She started crying when she saw how bloodied he was. I was pretty freaked too, but it was way worse than it looked. He’s actually completely fine now. Stitches came out, there’s not even a scar. I’m pretty sure Jonah’s actually bummed there’s nothing to show off for when he gets home LOL. But yeah, nothing to worry about, he’s still the same energetic Jonah we all know and love.

Holden’s horrible at remembering to email you, I’ve told him like, six times. Did he do anything other than the one time he sent a what’s up? He totally only did that because I nagged him.

I wish we spent more time in Italy, but we’re making great time through Germany. I’m gonna go now, kick ass and take names at Overwatch for us when you can sit up, all right?

From: Tori

Jonah’s almost too over the top since the attack. I think he’s trying to make up for something, I don’t know what. It’s like… remember that time he pounded Mountain Dews all night while we were gaming? This was during our League of Legends phase (glad that ended) but Jonah was incredibly manic and he was constantly getting up to pace.

He’s like that but 24/7. I don’t think he’s slept a full night, and it’s almost impossible to make him stop for the night. We want to relax, there’s no rush to get to Poland. I’ll talk to him when I can get him to settle, see what’s wrong. Love you.

From: Jade

Welp, Tori went home last night.

Her clothes and passport are gone, she left a note saying she really missed you and her parents, she’ll make it up to us when we’re home. I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed she didn’t talk to us beforehand.

She was right though, Jonah needs a chill pill. Is this how some people deal with trauma? Because I mean, you weren’t there, but that was… pretty bad. I can’t even imagine how Jonah feels, but he’s Jonah. He never lets anyone in. It’s why you two broke up sophomore year, kid has issues. I hoped this trip through Europe might help him learn about himself but I think it’s making it worse.

From: Whitney

WE’RE IN DENMARK BECAUSE APPARENTLY JONAH DECIDED POLAND WAS A STUPID IDEA.

Ugh, sorry. So Jonah offered to drive us through the night. I said no, but Holden and Jade were all for it. So I sucked it up, took something to make me drowsy, and konked out in the back seat. When I woke up, Jonah and Jade were having a shouting match and turns out, we’re in DENMARK. That wasn’t the plan. He didn’t clear this with us.

Holden’s on his side, saying that Denmark is a cool country too but Jade’s royally pissed. I can’t blame her. We promised at the beginning of the trip that we were to clear any travel plans with each other. We’d talk about it.

That’s another reason to miss you- you are SO good at talking. <3

From: Jonah

Everyone but Holden’s pissed at me.

Listen, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just had to deal with some insomnia lately, is that really that bad? It’s not like I’m as bad off as you were. There was a brief moment that morning of the accident we all thought we’d lose you.

The insomnia goes away in the day. I can sleep then. Everyone can go and have fun during the day, I get to sleep, and at night I go do my shit. There’s. Nothing. Wrong with that.

I mean, another reason I wish you were here was that I’ve been having some… preeettyyy interesting dreams involving you, when I can sleep anyway. TMI. But maybe I should’ve been less of a puss with you back in the day. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.

When I’m back, can we go on a date? I’ll buy. Anywhere you want to go.

From: Jade

Jonah made a pass at me. And he’s not drunk.

I’m confused. And worried. Not gonna lie, he was pretty smooth about it, but I’ve never thought of him that way. He’s like that obnoxious little brother you love anyway. I told him no and he accepted gracefully.

Talking with Whitney and he also made a move at him… and at Holden? Jesus Christ, it’s about time that dumbass fell out of the closet. Holden’s pretty into it though. I’m wondering if this trip was actually a success in that matter.

We’re going up through Scandinavia now. Sweden, here we come!

At least we’re in some of the most gay friendly countries in the world right now… although I swear to god I think someone’s been following us. I’ve spotted this small white car twice now and I think it’s the same driver. But I’m probably just paranoid.

From: Holden

i know i dont email you often. i hate writing.

but something’s really wrong with jonah. i think he hurt someone.

last night we went out for drinks. ive always thought jonah was cute but never thought hed give me the time of day. we shared a hotel room, nothing happened but it was nice.

but I woke up this morning and I was trying to find something to wear and I accidentally went through one of jonah’s bags because our bags look the same and

i found one of his shirts. it’s covered in blood. And I found tori’s passport. it’s also bloody.

i’ve been reading and there’s been two bodies on the same route we’ve been going. i also called tori’s mom and she hasn’t heard anything from her daughter. she hasnt gone home. what should I do lilah? you were always the smart one.

From: Jade

Jonah’s lost his goddamn mind.

I’m surprised I get signal out in the middle of nowhere but Holden asked him about Tori and Jonah got really defensive. Then he brought up clothes covered in blood and that Tori never made it home and… Jonah snapped.

He pulled over to the side of the road and lunged for Holden. Whitney tried to break it up and got pretty fucked up for it. They’ll be okay as soon as we get to a hospital or something.

He’s gone now. He took the keys with him. I’m gonna try and call for help but jesus christ how have things gone so wrong?

From: Jonah

(This email was sent to all of us, along with the next one.)

I’m with Master now. He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for me to get turned. He tried to find me but my own stupidity kept us going… I’m so mad at myself. I should’ve told you guys what’s been going on. I’ve been barely sleeping, any sort of bright light fucking hurts, and Tori…

I never meant to hurt Tori. I swear to god. She was one of my best friends. But she’s dead. And I killed her. I couldn’t stop myself. By the time I came to my senses, I’d shredded her to pieces. If they ever find where I dumped her, she’ll probably be a Jane Doe for the rest of time.

Master found me running around around and stopped me. We’re someplace safe now. He’ll help me.

But I need to know one thing-

Did I bite you guys?

From: Whitney

You bit me. And you bit Holden.

Jade’s fine. For now. I don’t know how long though. I feel strange. Like there’s something burning in my head and down my spine. Please find us. Holden’s starting to feel strange too.

Lilah, we love you so much.

Please, don’t try to come find us. Go to college. Have fun. Make new friends. Study hard. Forget about us.

We’re dead anyway.

#horror stories #scary stories #creepypasta #writers on tumblr #creative writing #my stories

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