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mcdonaldnuggies · 10 months ago

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SP Fantasies- Forgotten Memories (Part 2)

A/N: Sorry, I forgot to out the title of the first part and which part it was! 😅

Part 1 Part 3

My head ached as I heard a loud muffled ringing against my ear, groaning at the annoying sound. I slide my hand underneath my pillow, grumbling about the bright screen of the phone in my hand. Lowering the brightness, I look at the contact name.

Mother

FaceTime Audio

I groan into my pillow, answering the phone call and pulling the phone up to my ear. “Hello?” I slur, my eyes slowly giving into the sleepiness that I barely give effort to fight off.

“Was there an ambulance at the house?” My mother asks me, a cold stern tone in her voice; much similar to my fathers from before. I mute the call and let out a scoff, pissed off that this is what I have to wake up to.

Unmuting the call, I open my mouth to reply to her. “Yeah.” I bluntly say.

“What happened?” My mother investigates, that annoying sass in her voice doing my patience to justice.

I roll my eyes, as if she was right there by my bed with me. I pay no attention to the sound of her voice and ‘pretend’ to drift back to sleep. “Hello?” I hear my mother call multiple times, each time her voice gets louder and her temper obviously raising. Giving into my slumber, I turn down the volume of my phone. To the point where I can still hear her, but also to the point I can peacefully go to sleep as well. What? I’ve only slept for an hour, I need my sleep!

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I once again wake up, this pit in my stomach leaving me uneasy while I lay in my covers. After a while of staring at my wall; I sit up and begin my morning routine, rushing around the house to get me, my siblings, Oxford, and the house ready for the day.

Last night was horrifying, a day I will never forget. I mean, it’s not everyday that a drunk man breaks into your room when you’re asleep. Gosh, I should’ve left that man for dead instead of soaking up that blood and ruining my favorite shirt. Seriously wasn’t worth it, man.

My father had left early in the morning, he apparently found a job as bodyguard at some ‘restaurant’ spot open so he’s going to try it out. Because of this, i’m left in charge of the house. However, because of the incident last night, my dad screwed all the windows and doors in real good. Leavin’ a plank of wood against the window slider, making it almost impossible to break open.

While my brother, Theodore, was sweeping the living room and hallway, we suddenly heard a knock on the door. I turned to look at Harper and Theodore and put a finger on my lips, signaling for them to keep silent. I walk over to the door and peek through the hole in the door, seeing a little girl with brown hair fidgeting with her fingers nervously with a boy in what seems like a orange jacket. Or.. maybe a parka? I don’t know, i’ve never been good with recognizing clothing types.

My resting face softens, my lips curving up at the sight of the adorable little girl. I take a moment of consideration on whether or not I would be allowed to open the door when we’re home alone, even if it’s just for kids our age. Suddenly, the boy—at least what I think is a boy—locks eyes with me through the peep hole. Holy shit, what the fiddlesticks!? His eyes shine up a little, like how Karen’s eyes shone yesterday at the sight of Oxford. Except, his seemed a little off. Oh my god, what if he’s planning my death!? He’s probably Karen’s older brother and super overprotective, he’s probably here to slit my throat!

I nervously fiddle with the lock on the door, accidentally twisting it too far and unlocking the front door. Theodore lets out a dramatic, ‘I’m going to tell on you’ gasp behind me while Harper runs over to Oxford who’s tensed up on his kennel. Well, I guess it’s too late now. I practically have to open the door now. Turning the handle and peeking my head out the door, I give the pair a awkward, forced smile.

“Hi, [name]!” Karen peeps, gracing me with her toothy grin once again. I look down at her, giving her a—still forced—wider smile.

“Hi, Karen. Why’re you here?” I force out my throat, completely awkward. I feel the bullet stares coming from both the boy next to Karen and Theodore who stopped sweeping and snuck behind me. Oxford suddenly runs over to the door, sniffing Karen’s familiar scent from behind my leg. For some reason, Karen’s brother—at least from what i’m assuming—looks horrified at the sight of Oxford. I shoot him a confused look before bringing my attention back to Karen and Oxford.

“[name], who’s that?” Theodore shouts oh-so-embarrassingly.

I turned around, looking him dead in the eye; telling him to shut up or he’s going to get it when they leave. Much to my satisfaction, Theodore closed him mouth and only peeked out at the two. “I came to play with Oxford!” Karen said, her voice filled with so much joy. Putting thought into her words I realized I had invited her to play with Oxford today without realizing. I put some more thought into this playdate, it can’t be too bad if they’re the ones entering our house, right?

I take a step back, pushing the rat behind me to back up. Theodore growled and snarled at me—much like the weird fucking furry he was—and stomped back to continue his sweeping. I watched as Karen and the tangerine walked into the house, eyeing the boy suspiciously as he seemed to be eyeing Oxford. He seemed tense from the very moment Oxford ran up to Karen. Maybe some trauma response?

I sat, crouched on the living room carpet with Oxford between my arms and legs. My attempt to keep him in the house, avoiding any chances he runs outside to this new, strange change of environment.

The tangerine behind Karen closed the front door, I took that as a signal that Oxford could be set free. Oxford instantly ran up to Karen, jumping and licking her all over. His jumping became too much because soon Karen fell down, laid on the ground on her back giggling and laughing as Oxford’s smelly breath covered her face.

“Oxford!” I shout, grabbing a hold of him and gently tossing him into his kennel to calm down.

The orange hooded boy squat down to help Karen sit up, rubbing the dog saliva off her face with the sleeve of his jacket. Walking towards Karen to help her on her feet, I notice the boy is seemingly glaring at Oxford. Damn, he must either be extremely overprotective or he just has a built up hatred towards dogs.

“Sorry Karen,” I apologize, “I should’ve warned you.” I reach my hand out for her which she graciously accepts.

“It’s okay!” Karen beams, flashing me with her signature, sweet smile. I pull her back to her feet, sending her a small smile back. Glancing back at the boy, I accidentally lock eye contact with him. If I could, I probably would have dropped dead right then and there. Almost as fast as our eyes met one another, my eyes darted away from the tangerine.

One again, Karen must have noticed this. “Are you okay, [name]?” Karen asked me as she stood back up onto her two feet. “I’m fine, Karen. Don’t worry about me.” I reassured her.

“Um.. it’ll probably be better to wait for him to tire out.” I informed the two.

Looking back at the messy house still in cleaning, I showed them to my room. “Well, since you’re here, do you want anything?” I asked the pair, fiddling with the handle of my door. “Oh!” I gasped, remembering something for Karen. Stepping over to my bed, I kneeled down onto my knees and pulled out a plastic bin of toys from throughout my childhood. Karen let out a dramatIc gasp and ran over beside me. “You can keep all of these, Karen.” I told her, scooting the bin over to her.

“Really!? This is all for me?” She asked, her eyes sparkling in the sun joyfully.

“Mmhmm” I nodded.

Karen excitedly took out each toy, looking over the ones the loved the most. Smiling at her, I turned my head over to the tangerine to my side. “Uh, do you want anything? I can give you a snack, same for Karen.” I awkwardly stated, fidgeting with my fingers and the hem of my shirt. “Me and Karen’ll take some snacks.” The orange boy murmured into is parka. I nodded and asked him if he wanted to come with me.

Walking with the boy beside me, I lead him into the kitchen and to the snack cabinet. “You can take whatever you want.” I told him, opening the cabinet and backing up to make room for him. Swiftly, he took quite literally all of the snacks we have available. ‘Would it be rude to tell him to put it back?’ I ask myself, the fidgeting progressively getting worse. I thought back to the houses we drove by. If he’s one of our neighbors—and looking back at the side of the fence Karen was at yesterday—they must be struggling a LOT. Surely 5 big boxes of snacks wouldn’t hurt.. right? The only downfall is putting up with Theodore and Harper’s whining.

Walking back to my room, I eyed Theodore telling him to mind his own business using my stare. Opening my room door, I was suddenly tackled into a hug. “Thank you, [name]!” Karen squealed, tightening her hug every second. “For what?” I asked her, awkwardly draping my arms over her some-what tall figure. “Your dolls are so cool, are you sure I can keep them?” Karen asked, a big grin plastered along her face while practically jumping up and down. “Yeah, why wouldn’t you?” I laughed, copying the same wide grin she has on her own face.

Karen looked back towards the boy, “Kenny, come! I want to show you all of the cool dolls [name] has!” She tugged on ‘Kenny’s’ orange sleeve and dragged him over to the pile of toys that she had stacked in a circle.

Hours later of chatting and getting to know Kenny, trying to subtly introduce my siblings, attempting to get Kenny to become softer with Oxford, and ignoring all my mom’s calls, I had to tell Kenny and Karen that they had to leave. “Bye, [name]!” The two siblings called out as they began to walk home, waving back towards us. “Bye!” My and my siblings returned, waving at them from the front door.

Turning back to my siblings, I rush them deeper into the house. "Hurry up and clean before father gets home." I demanded them, flicking Theodore's forehead. I scoffed at me, hitting me on my shoulder as I walked away cackling like a Disney villain. "Stupid fucking bitch..." My brother muttered underneath his breath as he continued sweeping the floor. Harper simply looked between the two of us and gasped, sitting on the couch while she stared at us.

"What did you just say?" I asked him, prepared to turn this into a war-zone if my anger requires so.

"You're a fucking bitch! Did you not hear me, ding dong?" My brother taunted, hitting me with the broom. Luckily for me, my dad so happened to walk into the doorway. Witnessing what my brother was doing to poor ol' innocent me.

HAH, FUCKING STUPID BITCH! GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!

My dad looked at my brother, furious. "Theodore, what the fuck did I say about hitting girls?" He asked, flicking my brother on the back of his head. Theodore looked up at him, quietly muttering words—that I'm pretty sure is cursing my name and wishing death upon me—as he glared into his eyes.

"Woah..." Harper said, muffling laughter into the couch's pillows.

#SPFantasies #south park #fanfiction #fanfic #x y/n #reader insert #female reader

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castle-dominion · 1 year ago

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Undead again 4x22

breaking in TO CASTLE'S PLACE? IS THAT A DOG? OH NO ALEXIS! Not a dog, maybe a gun? also who has their device zoomed that far out? Who goes page-by-page instead of scrolling? Oh it's dad. Lol I miss their laser tag games RC: Wait. Let me savor this. I haven't gotten the drop on you since you were ten. Oh, this feels like…victory.

Aw he doesn't force the game when alexis wants to talk. Good. I remember she said stuff about oxford a few seasons ago. s2 I think. Girl I LOVE living at home during college. It is great. I brought home litres upon litres of soup my first block of my first term. I couldn't eat all of it by myself! Alexis you are so wrong. Adults need play too!

RC: No, it's not [just a game]. It's--it's a time-honored family tradition that we've been honoring since Alexis could wrap her little finger around a trigger! Also a thousand points is a lot less than you think when you play for years ADULTS NEED PLAY TOO

Yeah it IS kind of your fault rick. Yeah! At least let her know why! This man is surprisingly emotionally stunted I love martha so much But also Rick you probably should check with the mystery man that it's ok for you to leave.

KB, to esposito, who has drank coffee often throughout the show: You said you didn't like coffee. JE, the ex-military pig who made fun of his friend for drinking warm milk with honey before bed bc it helped his GF sleep: I like vanilla lattes! Wow becks is pretty af

SP: Ah, our intrepid heroes have arrived. And Castle. I love him so much RC: Ah, Perlmutter. I will treasure these special moments we've shared. KB: *did he just drop a hint he's leaving?*

SP: It's not just a bite mark. Look at the skin. You see how it's torn? The killer latched on and shook like a pit bull trying to tear off the flesh. KB: *wow that was a violent description* Ooh castle knows the right stuff about clothing. Neat.

4am is p early lol. Ah the bakers & foreign traders of the world. Oddball how? Charlie also got murked & HIS body was dumped?

RC: Well, that's a shame. This case had some real promise. Savage bite marks, reconstruction era clothing. Gets some mystery here, a whiff of intrigue. Now we're just slapping cuffs on some disgruntled employee. KB: RC: Just wanted this one to be special. He's just going to be naked I swear.

DANG HE'S LOCKED UP

RC: Relax, Charlie. Relax. We're cops. Charlie Coleman: You're a cop? KB: Yeah. CC: Is that your gun? [Beckett raises her eyebrows.] KB: Yeah. CC: You need to shoot me. Do it now! [Charlie squeezes his eyes shut and presents his chest to her.]

CC: he stared right past me with this weird look on his face and then he said, "What the hell is that?"! RC: What the hell was it?

"yeah sure I promise" not very convincing babe CC: Promise that you will use your gun on me when I start to turn. KB: !?!?!? That's a heck of a bite mark

the 911 operator would assume there are drugs involved & try to get him to come down from his high tbh. RC, totally correct: I believe he believes it.

RC: Oh! Wai-- um… Sorry. Let me make sure I understand so that I might properly relish this moment. You're saying… JE, turning to him in, idk disgust? annoyance? well his face is so great here I think I'll clip it: *thinking: don't touch me* RC, talking too slow: …the evidence shows Charlie and the victim both were bitten by an as yet unknown third party. JE, overlapping & speaking fast: That's what I just sai-- RC, interrupting & talking slow & AGAIN TOUCHING ESPOSITO: Perhaps even… JE: *looking so pissed that castle keeps touching him* RC: …a mindless, shuffling, …undead third party. KB: Castle, just stop. There's no such thing as a zombie. KR, entering: Guys…you gotta see this. Oh he's def going to show "proof" of zombies. I love how ryan slowly has gotten more & more castle-like throughout the show, he believes more things & spins more theories btw he is hot af holy crap I need to grab a pic of this

RC: Our killer's a zombie! *high fives some random cop who probably didn't know that he was going to claim the killer was a freaking zombie*

castle is surprisingly calm. I thought he would get into the bunker he def owns.

RC: Security camera caught him in all his putrefying glory. MR: Woo-oo. I don't supposed you downloaded this video by chance? RC: Absolutely not. That video is police property. It would be very, very wrong of me to…get a screen grab of it and e-mail it to myself.

MARTHA LURED HIM IN & THEN SHE FRICKING DESCENDED FROM THE CEILING

It has been a full day since they caught the case? bc rick was with martha & alexis there & alexis said "my act yesterday" & now they are wearing different clothes but they barely did anything yesterday. well they did a bunch of security footage so nvm. & they had to calm down a guy enough to bring him to the station.

Why didn't he take his car home tho? when he got bit?

Need to clip this scene with ryan & coleman. (btw his fidgeting? point for the adhd headcanon) & his pretty smile. & playing on charlie's level. *puts it back on ryan's chest & closes the door on himself* & then ryan's FACE it's so GOOD

RC: Charlie has not been wrong yet Me: ... That's true & then castle has a nice leather suit jacket, beckett has a pretty yellow leather jacket, the boys are pretty enough

KR: I mean,.. he does,,, look like a real zombie? JE: "A real zombie"? I'm embarrassed for you, bro. I wish my lipreading was better I figured it out KR: Is that true? RC: ye

JE: Only in New York could some guy dress like a friggin' zombie and walk down the street unnoticed. Yeah lol he's right

Howston? JE: I'll tell you where he went: Booty call. "chica" That's a heck of a name, Mastroianni

Heck of a ring I like espt's shirt bc it's smth I would wear but it is smth I wear bc I live in canada & have scars, not smth I'd wear to work The way they interrogate her... continuing to ask her questions, figuring out tom knew where he worked, standing, it is an interesting choice for them to be standing

This man is kind of interesting looking. I like his outfit How do you know the height of the zombie? "what the hell is that?" Who is at the library at that time???

RC: What about recently deceased friends and coworkers? But castle, they would not be wearing 1870s garb Yeah for sure, psychological issues thinking he's a zombie KB: What kind of chemical? KR: Uh, I won't even begin to try to pronounce it, but it is used in three factories in New York and New Jersey. (it turns out to be a relatively easy-to-pronounce chemical) Ryan is saying this to castle not to becket... interesting

Wow & it is dark out?? RC: All I know is that normal people don't come to places like this at 2:00 AM in the morning. I can't hear anything but I'm also deaf They totally should have been able to hear the moaning too (I've totally done things where some friends & I start running yelling "run" & then people come along with us. It is not that they are stupid, it is that they trust other human beings. We get a whole bunch of ppl running. How did they get behind them too? I totally would have shot earlier tbh, she would have gotten in trouble for shooting a civillian

Lol the one zombie in the wheelchair. Glad to see a disabled person & their friend enjoying a thing like this. It sounds like a fun game of tag lol. But when they get turned they don't have a chance to dress up as much as the rest of the zombies ALL of them are coming with you? HE USES THE WORD OUTSTANDING

Love all the zombies in the police station giving statements in their get-up. Reminds me of that one job interview I had. Vampires are sexy, zombies are also cool Not a supernatural creature tho becks.

JE, not someone I'd expect to have fashion tips: I don't know about those shoes with that top. I'm just saying. I'd have went open-toe.

JE: Oh, and guess what? None of these knuckleheads are real zombies. KR: I think what my colleague means to say is that no one recognizes our zombie from the video or our victim David Lock.

Teacher Zombie: He definitely wasn't part of our group, I can tell you that. Zombie Paul: High AF (& yk what good for him) KB: Paul, are you high right now? ZP: Whoa! Whoa, hey now, uh…where is that …(nervous chuckle)…coming from? No. No, of course not.

Teachers can have lives & have fun. Oh anthropology? Yeah of course he's a zombie TZ: I believe our fascination with zombies is a cultural phenomenon, a commentary on the inner numbness of modern life. RC: *it all makes sense now*

Ooh sexy run & jump into there, love it OH NO MAN'S DEAD lmao his face when he needs to take the zombie's pulse. clipping that.

PERLMUTTER MY BELOVED SP: We're all meat, Castle. Get over it. KB: Well, the question is: who killed him? SP: Isn't that always the question?. Ok castle, zombies can only exist for about two hours after death, then they are no longer able to be zombies.

WHAT THE HECK HE'S ALIVE OR UNDEAD OR SMTH nine to get out of the system lol. btw I totally thought perlmutter was telling him to call 911 Castle is hella calm rn (btw cecil fox)

KB: So, based on the latest report from the ER, Kyle Jennings was transferred up to ICU. He is stable, but under sedation. KR: I'm telling you, that guy was dead. JE: Remind me never to choke on a chicken bone in front of you. KR: Hey! You checked that guy, so did the paramedics. JE: :| KB: Whoa, you guys. I'm sure that there's a medical explanation for it. RC: Oh, there's an explanation, alright. KB: Besides that one. btw it is the next morning & they are in the same clothes from last night. At least caskett are. RC: Well then, what was his motive for murder, Detective Esposito? KR: *crosses his arms & looks at espt, def mimicking castle* & ryan's hair is getting longer & he's so freaking cute I think I have a problem. (I mean they are all good... y'all would fuck a fence if it was white... I hope I'm not one of those ppl)

RC: Or he's a zombie killer with a zombie motive.

RC: (whisper to Ryan) Tasty brains. KR: (whisper) You know, Castle, do you really believe in all this zombie stuff, because I-I would swear on my nana's grave that Kyle Jennings was dead. ((You would swear on your NANA'S GRAVE that's insane)) RC, putting a hand on ryan's shoulder/neck: (whisper) No. You know what I do believe in? Driving Beckett crazy. [They both smile. Castle pat's ryan] KR: (whisper) Y'know, I have to say, it's good to see you guys hitting it off again. RC: *I am planning on leaving… sad* I need to clip this one

WAIT IS IT NOT THE NEXT DAY? IT WAS SO BRIGHT BUT OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL IT IS DARK

Except they all said he did not go on the zombie walk... though his shoe chemicals proved he was there

She would def believe that he was lying oh no poor kyle. At least she tells him to get a lawyer. RC: It is with a sad heart I say that that man is no zombie. Oh & they are not talking about Kyle here. RC: When a life-altering moment occurs… people remember. I like how they are at least talking about it finally, even if they are talking about it through kyle. I love perlmutter. He looks So Annoyed to see them! Def take a pic of this

KB: Perlmutter! SP: *looks up like "heck this"* KB: What are you doing here? SP: I came to…tend to one of my patients, Kyle Jennings. RC: Uh…do you think that's such a good idea? SP: I'll have you know I'm perfectly capable of treating living patients, I simply prefer not to. ((lmao I love him)) I made an exception here because the results of his blood work are quite unusual. KB: What do you mean? SP: Kyle Jennings had scopolamine ((easy to say)) in his system, which in small doses is used to treat motion sickness. In larger doses, it acts on the central nervous system to promote compliant and suggestible behavior. Truth serums aren't real... or this... ok then this is the way things work. But you can't be THAT suggestible...

Ryan touches her shoulder & it means smth to me. KR: Uh, I got started on that, and I did some research on…scopolamine. *smiles* RC: Nice. *you pronounced it, good for you mr used-to-be-a-drug-cop* The zombie drug? that's adderall lol. Actually no, that is adhd medication on adhd people WHEN AT A DOSE TOO HIGH. Lower your dose if you need to. talk to your doctor. & you know what? Maybe you are ok with feeling a little bit like a zombie so that you can function.

the one who was high obviously "woah what now?" didn't they show him that pic already tho? btw is charlie still in the holding cells? Oh no wait this is tom, tom is the boyf TW: Detective, I'm pre-law. I--I have no time for regular culture, let alone subculture. But he had an alibi

True, go at him not head-on but sideways! OH NO SHE KILLED HIM

KB: Maybe this is it. What every homicide cop fears: the perfect murder. RC: No. This is not the perfect murder. Can't be. KB: It happens. RC: Not to me. Not unless I've written it.

Esposito coming in at this exact moment... Castle is suddenly concerned. KB: Detective Esposito, please process Mr. Williams and then escort him to his apartment, make sure it's clear, (to tom williams:) and then after that you are on your own.

Oh heeheehee I know this I like this. We have esposito here driving him in & tom afraid af. & THEN SUDDENLY BASEBALL BAT ON THE WINDOW (whose car is that tho?) I like esposito's voice here Gun is scary, esp when u hear the sound go ka-click Wow this is fun. Weird voice tho. & those eyes... I can tell Esposito <3 I wish martha was involved in the directing of it. & it must be hard for actors to play a person who is acting but not perfect at it. They would act too well.

JE: Turn around. [Tom stares at Castle.] JE: (impatient) Turn around. [Esposito flips Tom towards the car and pulls out his cuffs.] JE: (to Castle) I gotta tell you, bro, coming at me like that, almost made me a believer. [Beckett watches Castle step up behind Esposito and growl with the voice modifier.] JE: Stop it. [Esposito shoves Castle away nervously.] JE: Don't do that. You're creeping me out. [Beckett smirks and Castle does another little growl.] DEFINITELY CLIPPING THAT BC IT IS HILARIOUS & I LOVE IT

Hey it's that detective we see sometimes, I don't know his name

Kyle Jennings: Detective, Mr. Castle, I--I don't know how to thank you-- RC: Uh… Let me borrow the zombie outfit for another day, we'll call it even. & THEY ARE USING THE KYLE ANALOGY AGAIN TO TALK ABOUT HER YESSS YES YES YES

Tomorrow & always, the best words on the show

Is that alexis or rick? btw the pic has no background... His hair lol

Martha said it was just a game & you argued It's ok to stay with your family. Love. Castle family <3 <3 <3 I love them

Best two out of three <3! What ending was that... "this isn't over"

Aw that was a great episode! I'm so happy!

Now I have work in an hour IF I get called in & I have chores to do & I should probably record some of that audiobook I haven't touched in a year...

But I might consider getting started on the next episode, though I would have liked to do a bunch of recording to clip on tumblr.

#castle 4x22 #castle 4x22 quote #castle 4x22 spoilers #castle s4 spoilers #the zombie episode

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just-your-average-tangerine · 2 years ago

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Think I just wasted like 60 bucks and a year of letting my ear heal

Had to take my helix ring out for dress rehearsal and now I can't get it back in all the way. It'll go in the front but won't go all the way through

#im so stressed out #not just about this but it certainly isnt helping #then while i was trying to get it back in #and in a lot of pain because you know stabbing dull metal through a hole in my ear #my roommates cat decided to piss on my bed because he usually pees in the shower #but i was in the bathroom #sp he just pissed on my bed instead #ive only had 4 hours of sleep in the last 24 hours #nonconsecutive #i dont know how im going to handle the next two weeks #op

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years ago

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Knee highs and short skirts | N. Jm

Pairing- Na Jaemin x reader

Genre- Smut, fluff, college!au

Word count- 3.82k

Warning(s)- nsfw, softdom!Jaemin, pretty pwp, corruption kink, slight voyeurism? (they make out in public) possessiveness, dacryphilia (getting aroused by one crying or sobbing), fingering (for prep), unprotected sex (play it safe y'all this is a fiction), slightly inexperienced?reader, unintentional overstimulation (unintentional LMAOO), pretty filthy i say. Lyra back at it with smuts lol

Synopsis- It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on, but here we are.

Type- requested!

@kpopscape

It was hard to imagine that all it took was skirts and high knee socks and cute little jumpy girls for Jaemin to get highly turned on.

Watching you as you entered the campus had always been a sort of daily serotonin boost for Jaemin. More like, watching you smile and wave at every passing acquaintance regardless of the fact whether you spoke with them or not was a serotonin boost for Jaemin. You were extremely intriguing.

You're a jolly person, an extreme extrovert, shy at first glance of course but nevertheless outgoing, you'd had little to no problem at all at making friends. Your close ones called you the human magnet and most would agree to it. Could you help it? Company is always better than being alone (unless preferred to be alone).

The first time Jaemin saw you was when you came into the campus first bumping into not his, but a very pissed Jeno's back in a very cliché way which resulted in him accidentally pour out his anger on you, which led to Jaemin having to find you later in the day to apologize on Jeno's behalf. That experience had a very interesting impression on the two lads, well, a not too positive impression on Jeno but the opposite for Jaemin.

The next time Jaemin saw you was in his philosophy class, and god bless you and your perfect complexion complimenting all your curves and edges and oh of course, that cute black and white knee high socks that you wore with a skirt a little too short for him to stay sane and a sweatshirt loose enough to give you adorable sweater paws. That's when wanting to see you on a daily basis became Jaemin's sole reason to attend college.

The next time was weeks into talking to each other, getting comfortable to a point where you went over to each other's house, exchanged numbers, went on small platonic dates and where your friendship started to turn into a touchy one, and you absolutely loved it. Well, Jaemin loved it more than you. Watching your face flush when he'd place his hands comfortably a little too close to there on your thigh had him feel sorts of emotions he's never felt. How your eyes would widen each time he'd place playfull kisses on your cheeks, or when he pulled you onto his lap to cuddle up closer when watching a movie or two, Jaemin lived for your reaction.

Weeks after that was at a small dinner send off party of sort by one of your friends for the senior batch, where seeing you in a white body fitting turtleneck full sleeve with a grey skirt consisting of blue hue with a plain white knee high sock had him crave you more than before. When the occasional touches and kisses turned into a form of self destruction for Jaemin and those longing touches turned into a want to take it up a notch.

And maybe it's the fact that Jaemin genuinely seemed intriguing to you, or the slight intoxicity you felt after a glass of not that strong of drink went down your throat, making you want to comply with everything Jaemin wanted. The expression he wore of pure bliss and satisfaction had you feeling proud of yourself. Like you're doing the right thing, like standing in a hallway beside your classmates bedroom with his hands around your waist in a vise grip, face inches away from colliding into a passionate kiss where anyone could bump into you two was a right thing to do. Like not caring about the all 'good mean no bad' girl image you'd formed to fade away in front of your classmates and probably next the entire campus was the right thing to do.

The next time, well, this moment right now when you went over with him to his studio apartment hand in hand after evening lectures, it had been nearly impossible for Jaemin to keep his hands to himself. How your lips pucker into a pout complaining about all the workload you have, how you jump up in excitement at the sudden strike of another topic you want to discuss with him, or how you seemed so dreamy in general and all Jaemin could do was stare at you with an expression of pure admiration, desire and want to change the whole innocent image you held.

"so Mr. Li asked him to-ah!" and all he could do was pull you onto his lap with his hand on your hip to hold you up in place and unintentionally cut your sweet voice's narration short, but he wanted to hear you more, "I'm listening, doll. Keep going" he cooed at your flushed expression at the sudden proximity, pulling you closer to connect you two by the hip, tapping at your now exposed thighs as your skirt had ridden up at the shift in position to urge you to step out of your daze and continue speaking.

"What.-what are you doing, Jaem?" you ask, resting your hands on his chest as you push yourself a little back to create some space, clearly astonished at the sudden spark of something at the area between your sock clad legs, only to be pulled back closer towards him once again.

"Something I've wanted to do for a long time, keep going, baby, I'll just be doing my thing" and so you let your hand rest on his chest while continuing your story as he looked intently at you.

Being in such proximity with Jaemin had never been a new thing, it's how no matter how many times you'd see him up close you'd still can't look him straight in the eyes for more than a few seconds because of how strong his gaze is that would have you flustered. Ever since the said party, your first proper kiss and Jaemin's first step to calling you his, you wanted to stick around him and just him. You felt like yourself around him and he made you feel so loved that you were willing to let him do anything just to have him around.

In Jaemin's case, it was that he'd not move forward with his plans if he'd noticed the slightest of discomfort in any of your actions, fearing that you'd leave him once and for all before he could even call you his. And so in that way, you two did what pleased the others the best.

Smiling at how you slowly got comfortable with his warmth, he leaned forward, slightly startling you but you nevertheless continued speaking, "Show his homework to him, b-but he couldn't because the only co-opy he had.." you squeal in a breath as you feel his breath fan your exposed neck, courtesy of wearing a slightly deep V-neck to college and of course to the hangout that day, "Had..?"

Jaemin rasped in a voice a little too low to what you're used to hearing, dangerously low that you felt yourself squirming under his grip, which elicits a groan from the male. Not knowing the weightage of your action, you accidentally end up doing it again as his plush lips come in contact with the sensitive skin. "H-had was.. mine-"

"Mine, a pretty word, right doll?" The feeling of his lip moving against your skin was ticklish to describe the best, but good, good enough to have keeping your legs closed uncomfortable from the sudden pool of arousal that bedded itself in your foolishly white panties. "Yes..?" you answer with a shaky voice, moving once again to get rid of the said uncomfortable feeling which resulted in Jaemin throwing his head back to rest on the head rest of the couch, his perfect eyebrows furrowed into a frown, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Darling, if you keep moving like this, i won't be able to stop myself from doing what all I've imagined doing to you," he spoke with the same low voice of his, which had you unintentionally moving regardless of the empty warning that lingered in the air. That's when you notice the visible switch in the way Jaemin looked at you. Determined to carry this forward and put an end to the friends title to develop into a whole new one.

"What you've imagined doing to me? W-wha-?" you let the question linger, not really expecting an answer when he looked at you with a smirk on his perfect lips. He let one of his hands off from your side to comb through your perfectly set hair while the other wrapped around your torso to keep you upright.

"Should i tell you what I've imagined?" Surely fueled by desire, Jaemin still counted on your consent, basic etiquette and he wouldn't let it go down the drain just because of his lust. The silent look of curiosity gave it away that you really wanted to walk through the dream boys imagination, so you nod your head. "Words, darling. I need words"

Looking at him patiently waiting for your verbal confirmation, you swallow down the nervousness before looking him straight in the eyes with your own widened ones, "Y-yes."

"Hm, well, I imagined having you close to me, just like this, all responsive to everything I do."

"Then I imagined feeling that soft lips of yours once again, the one that I remember so vaguely. Will you let me taste it once again?" He asked, leaning in closer than what your bodies would allow, nevertheless feeling ecstatic at the effect he has on you. "Hm?" you could obviously not say no to the expression he wore, filled with excitement and expectations, happiness, desire and maybe.. love?

Instead of answering, you lean forward, closing off the small distance that kept your bodies from colliding, pressing your lips onto his with least force. The type of kiss got both of you feeling hot, bubbly as you feel Jaemin smile against your lips.

The kiss was a mix of aggression and passion, slow and fast, lust and innocent emotions, one strong enough to deliver all sorts of emotions and of course, sloppy out of desperation, "Still as sweet as ever," he speaks against your lips, beaming down at you with the same smile as you refuse to meet his gaze at the sudden shyness that overtook your desire.

Jaemin's hands slip up the open clothing to grip your thigh raw, the feeling of his cold fingers making you shift position again, looking down and cowering behind your palms as you shield your heated face from the lad, "What's wrong doll?" he moves his thumb up and down, massaging the skin he had his grip on, "Talk to me, princess, do you want me to stop?"

"No!.. I mean, n-no, it's just.. I've never done this before, ever" As though your usual behavior never gave it away that you're too innocent for anyone existing in the world, you confirm Jaemin's suspicion all the more, to which his smile only just widened, the burning desire to change the status if innocence way too strong for him to contain himself now, "I know, darling, I'll go slow, alright?"

At your nod of confirmation, he wastes no time to lift your shirt out of it's confinement inside your skirt and over your head to reveal a not so appealing bra, yet, Jaemin thought you looked absolutely exquisite in it. Just a plain white lace bra, a cherry on top to the innocent image you held that he oh so much wanted to destroy, "W-wait! Can.. C-can this..-nevermind," you sigh, not wanting to disappoint the boy in front of you at your insecurity, "Can what, baby?" you shake your head, "Tell me, love"

"Can..can the bra stay on.. Just this once..?" you ask in a soft voice as Jaemin notices your tiny gestures of an attempt to cover yourself a little, feeling a little too hot, "Do you want it to stay on?" he asks in a voice all too understanding, no signs on the disappointment you were worried about, you nod, "Then it stays on" he smiles before placing a chaste kiss at the valley of your chest and swiftly shifts you on his lap in a way that your back rest flat on his chest, a hand secured on your waist to hold you as close as possible.

You feel a sort of warmth spread through your body at Jaemin's understanding and non persistent behavior towards your request as you allow yourself to relax and go limp on his body, "Do you know how many times i've imagined this? You on my lap.." he moves his legs to break your legs apart, using his knees to spread them and hold them open, "All pretty and for me to touch," He attaches his lips to your neck once again with a better access this time as he lets his hands wander up and down your legs, the hand that held your waist moving down to bunch up your skirt and pull it up to reveal to leaking mess you'd become which made Jaemin twitch and you shy.

"All wet for me, and for me only" you whimper at his shameless words as his wandering hands move closer to your heat, cupping it as he felt up the wetness he'd caused to form there, a throaty groan escaping him while doing so as you feel yourself jump at the friction you got for a second at the place you needed it the most. The thought of someone other than you touching your sex causing your insides to twist, in the best way possible of course.

Jaemin resumed to feel up and down your wetness from over the fabric while still keeping his lips attached to your neck, just to make sure you were wet enough to take him, or better, his fingers.

"J-Jaemin..,"

You let out a loud moan feeling his fingers directly over your clit once he pushed you drenched panty aside, coating his fingers with your arousal before easing one slender digit in, causing your back to arch.

Way too sensitive and aroused, it was obvious you wouldn't be long until your first high, and Jaemin knew that all too well as he felt your tight walls clench over one little finger when he started pulsing it in and out of you and a steady pace, minding to not make it too much for you, though, that thought seemed highly appealing to him, but he'd rather save it for the next time.

"Does that feel good, my love? Because watching you look all angelic like this for me is what I'd imagined next" he speaks against your hair, as you try to close in your leg at the friction you're getting suddenly becoming overwhelming for you, added to that came in Jaemin's words, talks, voice laced in adoration and pure want. "Y-yes Jaem, oh god.. "

Silently moaning himself at your godly sounds, he continues penetrating you to your first ever not self made orgasm, eliciting a loud high pitched scream from your side at the very intimidating feeling at the bottom of your stomach, feeling it undo as Jaemin coaxes your first orgasm out of you,

"Just like that darling, you're doing so well, so good for me" he coos, wanting to drag your orgasm a little more, as he lowers his unoccupied hands to draw small, slow circles around your clit, making you spasm uncontrollably over him, feeling your eyes glaze over at the now painful feeling, you push his hands meekly away from your core,

Shocked over the fact that he got you to come for him with just a finger, he added another one in, muttering silent apologies at your sudden pleas for a break to make sure your stretched out enough for that upcoming activity, "Just a little more, my strong girl, just a little more," though sorry for dragging your orgasm, he felt himself get lost at your small sobs and tiny tears falling down the side of your face which he pecked away.

Increasing the speed of his hands, he presses his thumb over your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves once again, making your arch your back in a painful angle, the crown of your head resting on his shoulder as you shake your head at him, letting him know that it was getting too much for you to handle,

"Come for me once again, baby. We need to make sure you're prepared enough, hm? Can you do that for me?"

As if on command, you let yourself fall apart once again, a loud cry resonating through the room along with you crunching your legs up to stop the burning from the intense high, Jaemin whispering praises against your hair while running his hand up and down your forearm to soothe you. "You did so well, doll, want to stop here?" he inquired selflessly, not caring about the fact that he's extremely hard and it had taken a painful toll.

You take a second to calm your breathing as Jaemin patiently waits for your response. Making sure your breathing is normal again, you shake your head from it's position on his shoulder as he presses a kiss onto your wet cheeks, "You need to feel good too.." you speak with your eyes barely open, Jaemin smiling softly against your cheek, "Love."

You let out a sound of confusion at the random word blurted out by him as you turn your head to look at him, "Say the word 'love' if it gets too much for you, alright?" you nod, at no further actions from his side, you look at him once again, realising he's all about the verbal confirmation, "Alright.." you squeal out, "Turn around and sit facing me, doll" he hurries.

Jaemin rushes to remove his skinny jeans alongside his boxers when you lift yourself up, letting his member stand tall and free from confinement, making him feel like he can finally breathe. Slightly intrigued by the above average size, you look at him nervously which had his head turn at your innocent expression, "We'll take it slow, darling, nothing to hurt you, hm?" you nod before replying out loud.

He gestures for you to hover yourself above his hardness once he got the panties out of the way and discarded it somewhere out on the wooden floor of his housing. "Go for it whenever you're ready" wanting to give you full control of the pace for now, he let you take your time for your first ever time.

Chest heaving up and down in both excitement and nervousness you slowly lower yourself, knees beside his thighs, hands a vise grip on his shoulder, letting yourself engulf just a little of his member, you wince, still a little sensitive from the previous orgasms, his hardness much thicker and bigger than his fingers to just ease down quick despite how easy it'd be considering the wet mess he'd made of you, "Jaemin.. "

Contributing from his end, he pushes his hips up to get inside you a little more, not too fast for it to be painful for you. Slowly, you let yourself ease down on him completely, sitting down onto his lap with his dick inside of you, twitching at the warmth he finally felt. Jaemin hushes your silent cry of slight pain, "You feel so good around me, doll. Such a good girl for me, "

You take the initiative to lift yourself up just a little so that more than half of him is out and glistening from your arousal making him let out an airy moan of satisfaction, feeling your tightness, finally after only having imagined how it felt for so long.

You move up and down slowly, thighs trembling, heart pacing fast with pride at the feeling of making him feel good from all the sounds he let out, mind hazy and body covered in sweat. "oh my, Jae-Jaem-ah!" you fall limp over his body at the sudden thrust from his end, maybe from growing too impatient.

"Should i take it from here, darling? I need to come, will you make me come, doll?" you mumble out a bunch of 'yes!' as your face falls into the nape of his neck where you nibbled at the skin like how he'd done.

Jaemin took control once again, a sudden burst of energy sparking through his body as he set a fast pace in pistoning in and out of you, your slickness and his precum ensuring it wouldn't be painful for you, rather, it felt extremely good. "Look at my good girl taking me so well, you're making me feel so good, darling, I'm so.. Uh, I'm so close-"

You clench around him when you feel a knot forming once again for the third time that evening when you feel his tip brush against your sweet spot, eliciting a loud gasp from you as you bite down a little too harder than intended on his hot skin while pressing the side of your face against his broad shoulders. "Jaemin.. Jaem, I'm.. Oh god"

"I know, doll, i know.. Me too, let go for me" he holds your hips in a grip tight enough to leave a light bruise or two while reaching between your bodies to find comfort on your clit again, making you let out a choked moan as Jaemin ended up being the one doing most of the work.

You fall off the edge once again, this time harder than the previous ones as your tears slip and fall onto his shoulder, seeping into his shirt and onto the skin, making him go faster, chasing his high while dragging yours for a second or two longer.

"Jaem, too much..it hurts-" you sob in a whiny tone which was more than enough to throw Jaemin off his edge too, rubbing fast circles on your clit while ribbons of his essence coat your walls as he lets out a loud, long groan of your name.

He stops his moment on your clit, but continues to move slowly to draw out all the arousal from his member, only stopping when he feels himself grow soft inside of you, the feeling making you clench around him weakly which makes him jolt due to the sensitivity.

Knowing it'd only make a mess to remove himself from inside you, he decides to stay in, muttering out a series of praises that he let linger in the air.

"That.. felt good," you speak into the silence, voice hoarse and weak, worn out from all the activity as you silently thank him for making you feel so good, a sense of accomplishment spread through his chest, finally fulfilling his wish of corrupting you, and most importantly, making you his. He kisses your forehead after pushing out strands of tresses that covered it,

"Anything for my babygirl"

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jolynej · 3 years ago

Text

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly!#jjba #my fics

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cabensonsgirly · 3 years ago

Text

👼These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends (Multi-Char)[NSFW]👼

Multiple SP characters x fem!reader

Xandra, Billie-Dean, Ally Mayfair, Anne Gillette, Audrey Tindall, Wilhemina Venable, Ellie Staple, Diane Sherman, Mildred Ratched.

👼Slice 2👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak even though she’ll deny it.

👼Wordcount: 1530👼

👼Published on AO3: Read Here👼

👼 Taglist: @mrsdeanhoward @okpaulson 👼

👼 Content (some for later parts): Super Au, dubious consent, slow-burn, manipulation, face-slapping, drug-use, alcohol, smut, cunnilingus, strap-on, cum, choking, degradation, sex-work, court, bruises, spit, mommy kink, daddy kink, humiliation, public sex/teasing 👼

👼She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh, she was not interested in this man in the slightest and he wasn’t even that good in bed, it was his money she was after, and she would leave the relationship with all of it after they get married. He had been talking about marriage for the past few months seeing as they had been together for a few years, completely unaware of how disinterested she actually is. Anne was not a woman to fall in love, nor was she the type of woman to settle down and get married. 👼

Rita leads Anne from the courtroom, the pair laughing quietly and talking amongst themselves as they made their way to an elevator. Rita gestured for Anne to enter before she went to herself, “Rita!” the older woman fights the urge to roll her eyes, telling Anne where she was to go and how to get there before she closes the elevator door. She turns to face the woman who yelled her name “Oh what a pleasant surprise, Detective Benson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Olivia shakes her head, jaw set firm as she stops in front of Rita “What the fuck are you doing? The evidence shows that she was the one that set the crime up! Who cares if Prestwick was blackmailed!? Gillette killed her damned parents and you know it. Just because you have some vendetta with my team doesn’t-“

Rita laughs, shaking her head with an amused smile on her face “How many times must we do this, Olivia? It is my job to defend people regardless of what they do, just like it is your job to investigate crimes ethically. I know I’m doing my job to the books; I can’t say the same about you. My advice, lie back and pretend like you’re enjoying it. You’ll last longer.” She steps into the elevator after the doors ding open, she turns to give the detective one last cursory glance “You lost, Benson.” She states before the doors close.

It doesn’t matter whether she believes Anne killed her parents or not, the woman had paid her generously to defend her and she was going to do just that. Nor does it matter the two have history, it didn’t impact the case or her ability to do her job. She was looking forward to the end of it though so she could finally actually enjoy a quiet drink without the guilt of knowing she should be working instead.

Once the doors open, she makes her way quickly to where Anne should be, letting out a breath of relief when she sees Anne sitting back in one of the seats, her blazer draped over the back of it. “You really think I’d risk doing a runner after the absolute field day you had out there? Ms. Calhoun I’m offended” she laughs, a coy smirk tugging at her lips “I’m saving the energy for once I’m cleared of my charges. How does that sound? You come back to the estate and unwind, just like the-“

Rita hushes her, swatting her arm lightly as she takes a seat opposite the blonde “Ms. Gillette! The walls have ears.” She shrugs her blazer off as well and leans back in her seat, propping her elbow up on the armrest before leaning her head against it, a small smile on her face as she looks at the woman opposite her.

“I never thought I’d be defending you in a murder case too, Anne. It’s one thing helping you get out of minor assault charges, but for a double-homicide?” She lets out a laugh, shaking her head “That is something else entirely. You were always one to make a grand show of things though, hm?” Rita quirks a brow at the blonde, a faint smirk tugging at her lips which earns an eye-roll and scoff from the blonde.

“Oh please Rita, I’m hardly as dramatic as that Tindall woman. Now, after this is all over, would you like to join me for drinks? Nothing else will happen, just an extra thank you for your hard work.” Rita sighs quietly “I can’t- I owe Novak a round after being so rough on her in court. She’s an amazing lawyer and a hard-worker, I’d rather not burn that bridge.”

Rita’s phone buzzes against the table and she immediately grabs it, turning the screen on to see the message before her eyes dart to Anne’s “They’ve reached a verdict, Ms. Gillette” she breathes out, a very faint hint of a nervous waver. “Well then, let’s get this over and done with.” Anne stands up and puts her blazer on, doing a button up in the middle then brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She follows Rita out of the room and down the hall to the elevator, this is the first time since this case started that she feels genuinely nervous- Not that she committed the crime, anyone would be nervous if they were in court.

Rita gives Anne’s arm a gentle squeeze before they exit the elevator and make their way into the court room, both ignoring the glares coming from the prosecution as they take a seat behind their table. “All stand for the Judge.” They do just that, Rita glancing at Casey out the corner of her eye, noticing how tense she appears before they take their seats again once the Judge has sat down.

Court: Will the jury foreperson please stand. Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?

Foreperson: Yes.

CLERK TAKES THE VERDICT FORM

AND HANDS IT TO THE JUDGE.

Rita rests her hand on Anne’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze upon noticing how anxious the woman was before returning her hand to rest on the table with her other one.

Judge: The jury find the defendant not guilty. The defendant is free to go home. Lets hope we don’t see you in this court again, Ms. Gillette. The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned.

Anne lets out a shaky breath before standing up and throwing her arms around Rita in a tight hug, repeatedly mumbling thank you to her. Rita returns the hug before pulling back slightly, gently wiping away the few tears that had spilled onto Anne’s cheeks, giving her a soft smile “I told you that I’d make sure you were found not guilty, Ms. Gillette. I’m a woman of my word, you should know that by now.”

Anne smiles back and lets go of Rita before running a hand through her short blonde hair “A miracle worker.” She glances over Rita’s shoulder and sees Casey watching intently, a disheartened look on her face before returning her gaze back to the woman in front of her “I should get going, it looks like Casey wants a word with you and she definitely looks like she needs a few drinks. I’ll see you around, Rita.” She kisses the woman’s cheek in farewell before taking her leave, feeling considerably lighter and more free now that the case is over.

Once she is out of the courthouse, she takes out her phone and calls her boyfriend- well, he thinks he’s her boyfriend, but she really couldn’t care less. “Hi darling, you’re talking to a free woman. No I’m not upset you couldn’t be in court, it would hardly be a good look for a detective to be seen on the alleged criminal’s side. You can make it up to me tonight when you take me out for dinner- Yes Yn can come along too, she is your daughter after all. I will take her shopping for something nice- I won’t be spoiling the girl. She needs nicer clothing to go to the restaurant I have in mind. Don’t worry- I already told you I am not going to spoil the girl. I don’t like repeating myself so it would do you some good to actually listen. I’ll pick her up from university and we’ll go from there. Mhmm, love you too. See you tonight.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh, she was not interested in this man in the slightest and he wasn’t even that good in bed, it was his money she was after, and she would leave the relationship with all of it after they get married. He had been talking about marriage for the past few months seeing as they had been together for a few years, completely unaware of how disinterested she actually is. Anne was not a woman to fall in love, nor was she the type of woman to settle down and get married.

“You better not fuck this family up too, Ms. Gillette” Anne turns to find Olivia walking towards her, thoroughly pissed off “Yn is like a daughter to me, so if I find out you do anything to upset her-“ The blonde gives her a bored look “Do you have nothing better to do, Olivia? Were you not listening to what the judge said? I’m an innocent woman, so no, I didn’t fuck my family up, daddy did when he killed my mother before himself.”

She takes a step closer to the brunette, a smug smirk settling on her face “You may be like a mother to her, Olivia, but unlike you… I actually am her step-mom, something you will never be. Now, this may be a surprise to you, seeing as you’re someone that never works, I have things to do including taking Yn clothes shopping for our celebratory dinner tonight. You’re not invited.” She fakes a pout “How unfortunate” before laughing and making her way to the car that was waiting for her before getting in, telling the driver where to go.

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson imagine #sarah paulson x reader #anne gillette #anne gillette imagine #anne gillette x reader #rita calhoun #olivia benson #casey novak #Audrey tindall #audrey tindall imagine #audrey tindall x reader

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cheshiresense · 5 years ago

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Could you do KoyoIchi (Swinging Pendulum), please? C: I have fallen in love with this ship ever since you posted those short one-shots (or whatever they are called) a while ago.

Hmm you didn’t include an AU and I’ve already done a KoyoIchi SP AU in the last batch, there’s not much else I can write for that I think. So how about KoyoIchi post-canon AU instead, where Ichigo’s human body gives out after the Quincy War, so he ends up splitting his time between SS and the Human world afterwards.

Edit: omg wtf did i do i went off i’m sorry this ended up semi-background pre-relationship KoyoIchi + like a dozen unrelated headcanons thrown in it’s a mess fml

1. It’s not usually done, he’s technically dead now (but not a Shinigami, not a Quincy, not a Hollow, and not even a Human anymore), but he has a lot of support from a lot of people - Kisuke has no qualms crafting him a gigai that would allow him to draw his blade even without stepping out of it, and Kyouraku basically gives him free run of Soul Society after they hammer out what Ichigo is supposed to do there considering he’s now stronger than the entire Gotei combined but also he’s technically only eighteen years old.

(It would be scarier, Kyouraku thinks, if Ichigo’s moral fibre hadn’t already proven itself superior.)

In the end, they settle it like this - Ichigo attends the Academy part-time for all the lessons Kisuke and Yoruichi and Shinji never bothered hammering into him because it was never important to the war, attends university in the human world, and the rest of his time is his do with as he pleases, whether that’s taking missions directly from Kyouraku, visiting with his friends in various squads and being roped into doing paperwork, or digging up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork (”Please don’t dig up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork for at least a month, Ichigo-kun. One month, you hear? We still haven’t finished cleanup from the last one.”).

Because it’s Ichigo, it works. it’s not like he wasn’t already coming and going from Soul Society when he was still human. The Shinigami have let him get away with far too much already to put restrictions on him now, especially considering he’s saved all their asses twice over now, and that’s not even counting all the trouble in-between. If there are some who complain, well, there are even more who are capable of making sure nothing ever comes of it.

So okay, no rebel faction, no secret invasion, but Ichigo’s not Ichigo without something to work towards, and he’s always wondered why the Shinigami side of his family was slumming it out in Rukongai when they’re supposed to be nobility like Byakuya and Yoruichi. The answer is simple enough - Aizen had mind-whammied everyone after Isshin ran off and fabricated a coup that resulted in assassinations courtesy of the Second Division before the remaining Shibas were ousted from Seireitei overnight.

(It was only too easy for Aizen to make them believe it.Nobody ever questioned whether or not the Shibas could. They had the power. They just never had the ambition, which nobody could understand.)

No way is Ichigo going to take that lying down. So he goes and yells at Kyouraku, who says it’s complicated and would take time, but Ichigo reminds him of the Visored and Kisuke and Yoruichi and Tessai, all let back in in the wake of the Winter War. If they could be pardoned, and rightfully so, why can’t the Shibas too?

“I’m not saying they can’t forever, Ichigo-kun,” Kyouraku says placatingly. “But Central 46 will want… assurances-”

“You mean they’re scared to let my family back in cuz they might still be a little bit pissed from having three-quarters of their members murdered in their beds,” Ichigo summarizes flatly.

Kyouraku sighs and gives up all pretenses of a neutral party. “If you have a better idea…” He waves a hand at the general situation, eyes dark and intent on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo snorts and straightens up. “Yeah. It’s called ‘being too strong to fuck with’. The old bastards are in session right now, aren’t they? I’ll be right back.”

One day, Kyouraku muses as he watches Ichigo go, this will probably not work, and it’ll come back to bite them all in the ass. Then again, Central 46 has run Soul Society their way or no one’s way for far too long; Yama-jii had always given them too much power. They’d learned nothing from Aizen, so maybe Ichigo is exactly what they deserve, straightforward and running on emotion, but fair, always, and decent in a way that Kyouraku thinks most of their government has forgotten how to be, if they ever knew to begin with.

One day, even Ichigo’s threats won’t make Central 46 back down. But a god doesn’t bow just because someone demands it, no matter how important they think their bloodline or rank or status is. And Ichigo is probably the closest thing they have to a god these days. A god, with plenty of friends to back him up if he needs it.

So Kyouraku leaves him to it - better Ichigo than him, less headaches in the long run - and he isn’t at all surprised when Ichigo sweeps back into his office five hours later, expression grim but triumphant, reiatsu still writhing like a living shadow around him as he informs Kyouraku that his clan will be needing their old estate back.

Kyouraku pushes over the paperwork he’d completed an hour ago, authorizing the full restoration and compensation of the Shiba Clan. Ichigo smiles at him almost fondly, features only slightly tinted with a banked sort of inhuman rage that he carries around almost constantly these days - it’s three steps left of his cousin’s memory, with Hollow glinting in his eyes and the shade of his ancestor draped across his shoulders. He’s gone again in the next moment, off to tell his family the excellent news, and Kyouraku thinks it was probably a good thing Yama-jii died when he did. However reasonable Ichigo still is, he is no longer that boy with the too-forgiving heart who took the insults they served him with all the doormatted self-sacrifice of a storybook hero.

(He came back from the Soul King Palace equal parts pensive and victorious, with old eyes and reiatsu levels they could no longer sense and a terrifying sort of detachment when he looked at them all. But his friends had fallen on him without care, only relief, and the icy distance in Ichigo’s mien had melted. Kyouraku had understood though, in that moment, that Soul Society would stand only so long as Ichigo allows it.

He likes Ichigo, he genuinely does. Jyuushirou had too. That hadn’t stopped his old friend from attempting to leash him, which had almost backfired in the end and literally only hadn’t out of the goodness of Ichigo’s heart, and it doesn’t stop Kyouraku now from catering to Ichigo’s whims. Only time would tell if this approach will work better or worse than Jyuushirou’s law-abiding one, and in the meanwhile, it doesn’t hurt that Ichigo doesn’t actually want anything Kyouraku doesn’t want to fix anyway. Soul Society has been his home for over nine centuries now. He does not want to see it burn. If that means dragging it kicking and screaming into a new era with a boy their world created to fight their wars for them looking over his shoulder, then Kyouraku will do it gladly.)

It takes almost three months for the Shibas to gather again and move back in. They’d scattered, after their exile, all across Rukongai, but Kuukaku is their head, and Ichigo has single-handedly wrested back their birthright for them, and when both of them call, the rest of the clan answers, trickling in in twos and threes and fours, suspicious and wary and not inclined to trust anyone but their own, but they come, and the first thing they do is raise wards around their home strong enough to withstand a siege from the Royal Guard.

“That’s everyone?” Ichigo asks, looking from the civilians to the once-Shinigami to the children. All in all, they barely make thirty total, and over half of them are from their retainer families.

Kuukaku shrugs tiredly at his side. She’s never looked older than she does now. “You know Isshin’s staying in the Human world for your sisters, but other than that, pretty much. Everyone else is dead.” She pauses. “Well, except one, but I doubt he’ll come. Kaien’s wife’s brother,” She adds for Ichigo’s benefit. “Koyonagi Senzou. He was the Kidou Corps Commander before Tessai, demoted to Academy teacher after some mission the higher-ups covered up. He was the only one the Gotei kept on after we were kicked out. Never found out whether he actually wanted to stay or if Central 46 insisted he stay. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. He’s wasted at the Academy, too useful to kill but too dangerous to let out of sight. As far as I know though, he’s still there.”

Ichigo frowns as he digests all this. “And he won’t come by to see you guys?”

Kuukaku shakes her head. “I doubt it. He was never really one of us.”

“Why not?”

Kuukaku shrugs again. “He never wanted to be. I didn’t know him very well, Ichigo, but he loved exactly one person, and she was more or less killed under Kaien’s watch. It wasn’t Nii-san’s fault of course, but she was sent out on a mission given to her by the Thirteenth Division lieutenant, and she never came back. He attended her funeral. That was the last time any of us saw him, although our Shinigami members reported glimpses of him in and around the Academy over the years.”

Ichigo hums. Kuukaku gives him an arch look and then snorts. “Shall I prepare a room for him anyway when I start renovations?”

Ichigo grins at her. “That’d be perfect, Kuukaku, thanks.”

2. Of course Senzou has heard of Kurosaki Ichigo. You’d have to be living under a rock in a cave in a different dimension to not have heard of Soul Society’s God-Slaying Saviour.

And of course he’s a Shiba. That lot always was more trouble than they were worth, too powerful for their own good, and too reckless or too confident or too stupid - Senzou has never really figured out which - to hide it from the world or at least play it down to keep the world from turning on them because of it. No subtlety at all. And look where it got them in the end.

In the aftermath of the Quincy War, he hears of the Shibas’ return to the city, and he can feel the power in the wards they almost immediately erect around their home. For protection, no doubt, because old dogs can learn new tricks after all, but to Senzou, it just looks like a very pretty cage. Why they - or the Visored for that matter - came back to serve the very people who betrayed them in some of the worst ways possible is beyond him.

Not that it makes much of a difference to Senzou. He’d ignored them for decades before their exile; no doubt, he’ll happily ignore them for decades more. They’re related only through an unfortunate marriage, and considering both parties are long dead now, what little obligation he had to them likewise expired years ago.

But, he thinks, as he watches an increasingly familiar head of orange hair slide into his classroom, someone forgot to give that memo to the Shibas’ newest pride and joy. Even Senzou - with expectations that literally no student has ever met - can admit that Kurosaki Ichigo attending Kidou lessons is a complete waste of time. Senzou spends his days teaching idiots the incantations for each of the ninety-nine standard spells, trying not to scratch his own eyes out when he has to grade their papers, and making sure they don’t blow themselves up when they practice producing them. Even the most advanced of the sixth-years can only manage spells in the fifties range, with a fifty-fifty chance of average-at-best success.

Ichigo memorized all the incantations in the first two weeks he was here. His first essay on the use of forbidden Kidou - instead of a regurgitation of laws citing the illegality of them that everyone else turned in - became a dissertation on their pros and cons, arguing that every case in which they’re used should be thoroughly investigated not only by Central 46 but also by a panel of Shinigami, and why the laws against them should be amended to allow for unexpected circumstances. The brat even had the gall to throw in quotes of interviews he’d conducted, and if it had been anyone else claiming to have received firsthand and eye-witness accounts of forbidden Kidou usage from names like Tsukabishi Tessai and Hirako Shinji, Senzou would’ve set them on fire for being such a bad liar. He couldn’t even fail the boy for incomplete research because the books he referenced might not be found in the Academy library but they all had Urahara Kisuke stamped on them.

And his practicals? A high level of reiatsu usually means the caster would have a harder time performing Kidou, especially when they’re first starting out, too much power shoved into the lower-level ones, too little control to hold together the higher-level ones.

Not Kurosaki Ichigo. That boy spent the first week putting holes into everything except his targets, went away for a weekend, and then came back with singed eyebrows and bags under his eyes but a resolute set to his jaw and picture-perfect Kidou at his fingertips. He didn’t even need the incantations anymore. And to make him even more of an anomaly, he could perform spells right up into the nineties. In fact, the higher the difficulty and reiatsu output, the better he was with them.

There is nothing the standard Kidou curriculum from any year can teach him. His learning curve is insane, and his essays read like he’s gearing up to go toe to toe with Central 46, never mind an Academy class.

He doesn’t need to be here. Senzou knows it. The other students know it. And Ichigo most certainly knows it too. And with the special allowances granted by the Soutaichou himself, he doesn’t even need permission to skip. The boy’s been given unprecedented free reign to come and go as he pleases, and yet he comes back, week after week after week. He doesn’t even have the decency to sleep through Senzou’s lectures. He’s a flickering candle in the corner of Senzou’s eye, all flame-bright hair and brown-gold-brown eyes and shadows that won’t stop moving, and that unwavering attention he pins on Senzou every time makes it damn clear exactly what he’s waiting for.

Shibas. No subtlety whatsoever.

The bell rings. Bags are packed. There’s a scramble for the door.

“Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou calls in bored tones without looking away from sadistically adding an extra assignment to the board. If no one notices, that’s their problem. “Stay behind.”

There are some interested whispers and prying eyes, but one glance from Senzou sends them scurrying away. And then Ichigo is there, sauntering up with his perpetual scowl - not at all like Kaien this one. The two are as charismatic as each other, from what Senzou’s observed. But Kaien had people wrapped around his finger because he had a knack for putting them at ease and making them feel special and making himself both approachable and worth looking up to. Ichigo on the other hand scared a lot of people when he first showed up at the Academy with an armful of books and a gruff disposition that didn’t lend itself to making allies, let alone friends. He wasn’t arrogant, just introverted, but it made him the kind of genius that people resented.

And then Senzou caught him in the hallway one day, looming over a mousy-looking fifth-year student huddled on the ground, and at first, he’d thought Kurosaki was bullying her. Everyone’s golden boy, picking on a shrinking violet of a girl. But then Ichigo had stooped down and gathered up all the books spilled across the floor before offering them back to the girl. The girl had still cowered, but she’d accepted them, and when Ichigo reached out and hauled her to her feet, she’d flinched but hadn’t moved away once she was on her feet again and Ichigo had let her go.

Then Ichigo had told her, quite clearly, “Next time someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, break their fucking wrists. Or kick them in the balls. Or tell them to fuck off. Start a scene so they have to stop. Do something. Don’t just fucking stand there.”

And then he’d stormed off, and the girl - Fujiwara, from the Kyouraku family - had stared after him, all baby-duckling wide eyes. And the next time Senzou had happened across her, it was just in time to see her chuck one of her textbooks at the head of one of her bullies. Said bully had staggered back, and then purpled with anger, already moving forward with fists clenched. Half a second later, he was on the ground and wailing from a broken nose, and Ichigo was standing over him, murder glowing gold in his eyes and black reiatsu streaking his hair and pooling at his feet.

Nobody had touched Fujiwara after that, especially since the girl had taken to following Ichigo around. Ichigo had still scowled like no one’s business, he’d also been seen kicking Fujiwara’s ass in one of the training rooms, they studied together in the library, and they ate together in the courtyard when Ichigo happened to stay for that.

And gradually, other students joined in, tentatively, some nervous, some with hero worship in their eyes, all hopeful. Ichigo never turned any of them away, but one day, he started a debate in the library about laws that would take species outside of Shinigami into consideration that ended with raised voices and enthusiastic opinions that got the whole giggling bunch thrown out, and another day, he suggested a free-for-all game of tag where only Kidou could be used to catch each other which ended with everyone sweaty and gasping and wanting another round, and in calmer in-betweens, he answered when the others finally asked him about what Hueco Mundo was like, what the Material world was like, what Arrancar were like, what Humans were like, and he never lost his temper with them even when he had to explain something more than once.

He was still blunt and borderline rude and not at all like Kaien, like a Shiba, not outgoing or friendly or instantly personable. But the charisma was the same, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, and it took weeks for Senzou to realize he was just as susceptible to it as Ichigo’s growing circle of friends within the Academy. So susceptible he was literally stalking him everywhere just to see what other chaos he was sowing.

That’s probably why he wants the boy gone so badly. He’d sworn he’d never forgive the Shiba Clan for taking his sister away from him, the only leeway they got was that he wouldn’t actively go after them either because Miyako wouldn’t want him to, and it wasn’t as if it was difficult to keep such a vow. He’d never liked the Shibas anyway. When they’d been slaughtered and cast out, and no assassins had shown up at his door in the aftermath, all he’d thought was good riddance.

But Kurosaki Ichigo…

Under any other circumstances, Senzou would be thrilled. Here is a student who challenged the world around him and brought a storm to the Academy.

But this isn’t any other circumstances, and as Ichigo stops in front of his desk, a beast glinting behind his eyes and a dead king’s inheritance pulsing in the shadow splashed at his feet, Senzou meets his gaze and slices a mocking smile in his direction.

“Kurosaki-chan,” He starts, smirk widening when Ichigo’s eyebrows twitch. “The Academy’s star part-time pupil. What exactly are you still doing in my class?”

Ichigo shrugs. “I signed up for it, your lectures aren’t boring, and I’m trying to figure you out.”

Senzou feels his smile grow fixed. “And how is that going for you?”

Ichigo scruffs a hand through his hair, pauses briefly to frown tug at the shoulder-length strands like he wants a haircut, and then shrugs again. “You’re the one following me around all the time, what do you think?”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Let me make one thing very clear, Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou finally says. For once, he doesn’t feel like weaving his usual mind games. “I don’t know what your clan has told you, but I have no desire to play happy families with them. I know you Shibas tend to be all about bringing family together, but I am not one of you.” His lip curls. “Do not push this issue any further than you have. Am I understood?”

Ichigo cocks his head, something animal in the way he watches Senzou now. “Kuukaku agreed to reserve a room for you at the compound if you ever want it, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not here for that.”

Senzou’s eyes narrow. “Then what are you here for?” He gives the boy a sardonic look and cuts him off preemptively. “Besides class.”

Ichigo grins, quicksilver bright, and something in Senzou recoils with surprise.

“I don’t really have a plan,” The boy tells him. “But I’m getting my family settled back in, and making sure nobody can fuck with them ever again.” He aims another considering look at Senzou. “If you don’t wanna be all buddy-buddy with them, that’s fine. It’s not any of my business if you wanna hammer your shit out with them or not. But you were connected to them even if you didn’t like it, and that doesn’t change just because that connection’s gone. So I guess what I wanted to figure out was whether or not someone’s fucking with you too.”

Senzou opens his mouth, then closes it when nothing comes out. How embarrassing. He settles for a derisive smile that feels a touch too brittle on his face. “I don’t need your protection, God-Slayer.”

Ichigo immediately makes a face. “Don’t call me that. And I didn’t say you did. But when I start something, I like to see it through, so I thought I’d check just to be sure.”

Senzou scoffs with disbelief. “Then why didn’t you just ask?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes like he thinks Senzou’s being dumb on purpose, which is a new experience for Senzou. Usually he’s the one rolling his eyes.

“Well you didn’t want me to, did you?” Ichigo says, looking exasperated now. “You were curious about me, and all the stalking was recon or whatever.” He levels a thoughtful look on Senzou before snorting with something like amusement. “You are the type. But yeah, anyway, now you know. If you need help, the offer’s open indefinitely. But I’ll stop coming to class if you don’t want me here.”

He trails off, arching an eyebrow in question. When Senzou doesn’t reply, the boy shrugs once more, adjusts the strap of his bag, and turns to leave.

Senzou… Well, he’s pretty much been on the back foot this entire conversation, hasn’t he? There’s something about Ichigo that just… throws him off. It’s frustrating. Unnerving.

And yet… Ichigo didn’t push. Kaien would’ve pushed. The rest of his family would’ve pushed. It’s what Shibas do when they want something - push and push until they get what they want, a single-minded persistence hidden under their signature cheerful geniality that makes the rest of the world believe them to be the nicest clan in all of Soul Society.

Miyako had said no, the first time Kaien had asked to court her. But he’d asked again and again, until she’d said yes, and she’d been happy to, Senzou had made certain of that, she’d been perfectly willing, had found a good man in Kaien and been glad she’d finally given him a chance.

But she’d said no first, and Kaien had pushed, and it just… rubbed Senzou the wrong way. Because once upon a time, Shinigami had plucked them out from Rukongai, dusted them off and provided the training and shuffled them into the military, all expenses paid, but no had never been an option, and that had become all the more true after Miyako became such a public, vulnerable figure, not only Third Seat of the Thirteenth but also wife of a clan head.

When Central 46 had come knocking, interested in Senzou’s prodigal skills with Kidou, they hadn’t even needed to drop Miyako’s name for Senzou to know that saying no then wasn’t an option either. He’d been pushed into their service, and it had taken Miyako’s death for Central 46 to finally leave him alone, solely because he had no one else for them to hold over his head.

It’s not the Shibas’ fault, not really. It’s been long enough that Senzou can admit that, if only to himself. Miyako’s choices were her own, and even if she hadn’t married him, Central 46 probably would’ve found another way to get to him through her. But Senzou has always been petty and vindictive at heart, and he’ll blame the Shibas for the rest of his life, because at the end of the day, they’re just like all the other nobles in this place. What they want, they’ll push until they get, because privilege is in their blood.

So Senzou flounders when Ichigo doesn’t push his advantage. The boy is already halfway to the door, and somehow, Senzou is certain, if he doesn’t say anything now, Ichigo won’t come back. It’s so wildly different from what he’d expected, so unexpectedly not-like-a-Shiba, that he has to fumble for something to say for an unforgivably long moment. Him, fumble. This whole conversation has been one unexpected surprise after another, and later, Senzou will blame the shock for his next decision.

“Wait.”

Ichigo stops and turns back. He doesn’t look surprised, but neither does he look triumphant or even just smug.

Senzou suppresses a grimace. “The school has nothing left to teach you about Kidou.”

Ichigo nods in unabashed agreement.

Senzou snorts softly. “But I do. And I guarantee it won’t bore you.”

Ichigo blinks, and a crooked smile slowly curls at his lips. It doesn’t erase his frown, but it softens his brow and makes his features look less harsh. “You sure you wanna teach me?”

Senzou scoffs and pulls out his chair. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He gives himself a mental shake and drags a grin back onto his face, sharp enough to cut. “Sit your ass down so we can figure out a schedule, Ichi-chan.”

Ichigo instantly loses the smile and glowers like a thundercloud. Senzou all but basks in the familiarity of it, inwardly relieved at being back on steadier ground.

“Don’t call me that, asshole!”

He probably shouldn’t have offered, should’ve just let him go and good riddance. But Senzou hasn’t been taken so off-guard so quickly in a long time, and it had been frustrating and unnerving but underneath both…

There is a storm waiting on the wings of Seireitei, and Kurosaki Ichigo is the one holding its reins.

And Senzou. Senzou is just curious enough to want to see what that storm will bring.

3. “Did your hair grow three inches over the weekend?” Senzou asks the moment Ichigo walks into one of their weekly lessons.

Ichigo dumps his bag in a chair and scowls at him. His hair has been swept up into a bun, which is certainly a feat considering the last time Senzou saw him three days ago, it had only brushed his shoulders.

“This body is seriously shit at regulating itself,” Ichigo grumbles. “I didn’t have time to go to the barber’s, and Kuukaku threatened to shave me bald if I tried to chop it off with my Zanpakutou again.”

Senzou squints at him. “You realize that’s not normal.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a knife on me, and it was getting in the way, okay? Don’t judge.”

This time, it’s Senzou’s turn to roll his eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant, Ichi-chan. Shinigami bodies don’t suddenly grow several inches of hair overnight.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ichigo mutters before shaking his head, and Senzou watches as black reiatsu crackles lazily across his shoulders. “I’m just kinda weird. Excess reiatsu plus funky biology apparently means random hair growth and dye jobs.” He shrugs. “Kisuke’s still figuring it out.”

Senzou hums noncommittally. “Urahara Kisuke. Your… mentor?”

Ichigo pulls out the books Senzou had given him last week, along with a notebook and the latest essay Senzou had assigned him. All are tagged with multiple sticky notes.

“Kind of?” Ichigo sounds like he isn’t all too sure himself and even less concerned about it. “He’s… Kisuke.”

Senzou eyes him curiously. “You don’t care that he basically engineered half your life then?”

Ichigo stills. Then he glances up with Hollow-gold eyes, and Senzou smiles and meets them without flinching.

“Why would you say that?” Ichigo asks in even tones, but the office suddenly seems darker.

Senzou shrugs carelessly. “Urahara has a bit of a reputation for… working outside the box. It’s not just me who thinks it, Ichi-chan. There aren’t many who knew him who wouldn’t take one look at you and guess that he had something to do with your existence.” He pauses. “Although admittedly, I suppose the worst of these rumours come from the ones who want him back most. Central 46 doesn’t benefit half as much without his skills in assassination and technological development. It must’ve been a blow to their egos when Urahara refused their invitation to come back after the Winter War. They might be hoping enough unease over any other projects he’s bound to be working on would be enough to make him come back under their protection-”

“That’s not called protection,” Ichigo growls, and Senzou stops, words withering on his tongue.

There is something about the black abyss of Ichigo’s unblinking stare that makes some base instinct in even Senzou want to back away, run, throw himself at this eldritch entity’s feet and beg for mercy. He squashes the urge and smiles like monsters don’t exist.

Ichigo blinks. The darkness in his eyes recede, and the room clears again, bright with the sunshine pouring in through the open window. A shadow passes over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Senzou catches a glimpse of fangs.

“Well that sucks,” The boy remarks succinctly like the silhouette on the far wall behind him doesn’t outline a grinning mouth with too many teeth. “It’s none of their business anyway. Kisuke prefers his shop. He’s his own boss there, and he likes it that way. Central 46 will just have to deal with Kurotsuchi.”

He flips open his notebook and shoves his essay over. “Now come on, we only have an hour today, and you said you’d go over this bit with me.”

Senzou nods and drops the subject. But three weeks later, he laughs when whispers tell of five Central 46 members retiring from their seats, replaced by one Shiba elder, one Shihouin, one Kuchiki, and two seated officers from the Gotei, one of which has served long enough that she doesn’t mind semi-retiring, and the other who prefers more time at a desk job over constant fieldwork. Both have roots that trace back to the slums of Rukongai. Twelve days after that, the Soutaichou announces a new official position filled by Urahara Kisuke - Human World Liaison - and a team of his choice, effective immediately.

“You don’t waste any time,” is Senzou’s greeting the next time he sees Ichigo after that debacle.

Ichigo, seated on the edge of the Academy roof and surveying the rest of Seireitei (like a ruler looking over his kingdom), waves a dismissive hand that trails solid shadows through the air. “People who’ve never been Shinigami shouldn’t be allowed to judge them. Kyouraku-san agreed.”

“I’m sure he did,” Senzou agrees, fighting near-hysterical glee down to a chuckle as he drops down to sit beside Ichigo.

He wonders if this is what it looks like, for a man to crown himself without even trying while most of the world cheers him on.

He glances to the side, arching an eyebrow when he finds Ichigo watching him. “Yes, Ichi-chan?”

There’s a disappointing lack of irritable twitching this time, but the thoughtful look Ichigo has levelled on him instead is more interesting.

“I have finals starting next week,” Ichigo says abruptly. “So I won’t be coming by the Academy until I’m done.”

Well, less interesting than he’d expected. “I’ll pick up your assignments for you,” Senzou offers, feeling generous. It’s not every day Central 46 takes a beating. He doesn’t care about Aizen, but if there was one thing he did right, it was butchering the judiciary authority on the way out. One group of them anyway.

Ichigo snorts. Rude. “Thanks, but I was thinking, you could join me down there for once instead of me coming up to meet you here. I want to concentrate on my university exams, but I have to eat and stretch my legs sometime. If you want, I could show you around campus. Kisuke can lend you a gigai so you won’t even have to request one from the Twelfth and wait for the acquisition forms to be approved.”

The first thing Senzou wants to say is I can’t. Because he can’t. Central 46 can’t make him do shit anymore, but short of slaughtering his way to the Senkaimon or disappearing into the Rukongai and living out the rest of his life as a fugitive, he can’t leave Seireitei. He doesn’t hate it here so much that he’d prefer either of those options, but the truth of the matter is, this is as much his home as it is his prison.

(A very pretty cage indeed.)

So he can’t, but Ichigo isn’t stupid, he should’ve already figured it out, or guessed, if not from the start after whatever his family told him about Senzou, then in the five months since. Stuck at the Academy because he’s too much of a wild card to go on missions.

Ichigo isn’t stupid, but neither is he cruel, not to those he has no quarrel with - that much Senzou can accept as truth. That he’s bringing this up anyway…

So, “How?” He asks instead, raising his eyebrows when Ichigo actually barks out a laugh. And then his eyes widen when Ichigo twists fingers through the air, and a Garganta springs into existence beside them.

“This can take us there,” Ichigo grins. “And no one will ever even know if you don’t want them to.”

Senzou stares from him to the murky void and back again. “…Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why would you offer?

They’ve known each other for five months, six if you count the one Senzou spent studying him. Most of that time has been spent in private tutoring sessions, and it’s benefitted Senzou as much as it has Ichigo. He technically shouldn’t be teaching Ichigo even half the Kidou Corps secrets he’s already imparted, but Ichigo makes it worth his while - quick on the uptake, a challenge in the sparring ring, and a breath of fresh air from the tedious drudgery of teaching his other students. Occasionally, they even go out for meals, tucked away in a quiet corner of a restaurant or a food stand. And sometimes, Ichigo brings souvenirs back with him from his trips to the Human world - fiction, toys, tech, trinkets the living modern age has that Soul Society does not - and he gifts them not only to his friends amongst the students but also to Senzou these days.

It’s a friendlier relationship than Senzou thought he’d ever have with anyone outside his sister, doubly so for a Shiba. Then again, Ichigo’s barely that, thank the Soul King, even if he was raised by one of the worst examples of that clan.

“Why not?” Ichigo counters, like it isn’t downright unnatural for anyone to do anything for Senzou, mostly because he’d rather stab himself in the face than fall into anybody’s debt. People avoid him when they can because he is cruel, and that’s the way Senzou likes it. He has high standards and little tolerance for things that bore him. Nothing bores him as easily as people do.

Until Ichigo.

“You don’t wanna be stuck here all the time,” Ichigo continues. “And I have an easy way out. So yeah, why not?”

Senzou turns his gaze to the horizion, past the sprawling streets and buildings of Seireitei to the sun setting beyond the wall.

He looks at the Garganta again. When Ichigo doesn’t move to stop him, he reaches over and lets his fingers drift past the mouth of the portal. The void is cool to the touch but not freezing the way he’d half-imagined.

He retrieves his hand. “A campus tour then?” He muses lightly, and Ichigo’s features brighten in response.

Senzou almost sighs. He thinks he might understand now. Ichigo is a little more like a Shiba after all. It’s just that he’s also a little more manipulative than one would expect of him. Senzou had all but told him not to interfere, to play hero for someone else, so Ichigo had backed off. But he’d figured out what Senzou wanted anyway, and his solution was to offer another way out instead.

Persistent, without disrespecting boundaries, and cunning enough to find another answer. In that regard, he’s nothing like his Shinigami relatives, who are always so loud about their intentions.

Charismatic, but… discreetly, almost insidiously so.

Senzou blinks. And then glances sharply at Ichigo again. His eyes look bronze in the light of the sunset, with the heat of his Hollow just beneath it. He has his head propped up against one loose fist, elbow balanced on one knee.

He smiles, almost guileless if not for the possessive resolve in the curve of that expression, and Senzou thinks, unbidden, ah. That’s how he won their devotion.

He gave his friends and family and allies everything they wanted, everything they needed, threw his heart and soul and body into every fight in their defense, shattered himself and rebuilt himself to protect the ones he’d taken under his wing, and so when the time came, how could any of them have done anything less for him?

It had probably not even been something Ichigo had done consciously from the beginning, it was just how he was built, through a quirk of the genetic fun park Urahara had ensured, or perhaps from the numerous near-death experiences life had forced him into. Ichigo probably hadn’t been aware, at first.

But he definitely is now.

Senzou thinks Ichigo is only just starting with him. Senzou’s already been claimed, because - for whatever reason - Ichigo wants him.

It probably says a lot that even this early on, even having already figured it out, Senzou… can’t say he cares enough to protest.

A Shiba in his bones, but leagues more dangerous by far.

4. The Human world is bigger than he remembers. Size-wise, it’s the same. But there’s a lot more in it than he thought, and he isn’t sure if that’s due to the passage of time or because he’d never spent more time than strictly necessary here when he took missions on the material plane back in the day.

Either way, he’s free to explore it now, even if just a small part of it for the time being. The campus of Ichigo’s school is large and sprawling, and with Urahara’s gigai and fake IDs and some Human money (he trades them for a box of seal traps even Tsukabishi Tessai wouldn’t know of because they’re Senzou’s own creation, and Urahara smiles like he understands and doesn’t object), it’s easy enough to come and go once Ichigo drops him off.

“You bought an apartment?” Senzou asks the first time Ichigo shows him the place and lets him poke around inside. It’s recognizably a living space, but it’s foreign to him all the same, with a generous open floor plan and wide windows, marble countertops in the kitchen and dark wooden cabinets and a bathroom constructed of polished chrome and gleaming tile.

“Kisuke bought me an apartment,” Ichigo corrects, flopping down on the couch where he has papers and books spread all over the coffee table and floor. His hair’s shorter today, barely past his shoulders, tipped black and hanging loose. Senzou is vaguely curious about what the boy’s classmates think of it.

“I wanted my own place,” Ichigo explains. “But Kisuke took one look at the rent I could afford and practically frog-marched me here instead. Then he had Yoruichi-san steal all my stuff and move it here, and then he said I might as well just take it because staying would be less work than moving all my stuff back.” He snorts, but it’s a fond sound. “The asshole. It’s not like I’d want to turn this place down. But it’s a bit much, so I try to help him with his research projects whenever I can in exchange.”

Senzou digests this with briefly raised eyebrows but says nothing. Urahara probably considers this another desperate form of making amends, and Ichigo probably knows it too. He probably wouldn’t have accepted otherwise.

“There’s a guest bedroom,” Ichigo calls after him as Senzou wanders down the hall to investigate exactly that. “Rukia’s stayed overnight, Renji too, and a few of my human friends have as well, but I always clean the place after they leave, so if you wanna stay tonight, feel free.”

That’s all the conversation between them for the rest of the day. Ichigo already showed him the campus the day before, and after tossing him a key to the apartment, Senzou is free to wander off and explore on his own.

Two weeks of regular visits to the Human world, and he still feels a little awkward in one of the shirts and jeans and sweater that that Quincy friend of Ichigo’s had shoved on him before whirlwinding back out again, apparently neck-deep in the middle of his own finals project.

“It’s Ishida, he makes clothes for everyone,” was Ichigo’s unhelpful clarification. “You help by walking around and looking good in them.”

So Senzou does, and part of him feels like he should stand out more, but nobody gives him more than a passing glance at most. Well, some do, but he recognizes shallow attraction well enough to ignore it.

In the end, he finds himself spending the most time in the libraries and lecture halls, slipping into the back of a classroom and listening to lessons he actually has to pay attention to to even understand some of what the professor is talking about. The science lectures mostly go over his head, and he’s never been interested in that field anyway so he doesn’t bother putting much effort into following them. It’s the literature courses he likes the most. There aren’t any at the Academy, not like this, and there are so many more books in so many more languages and genres than Senzou ever thought there existed in the world.

Soul Society suddenly seems so small in comparison.

It’s always an exercise in patience every time he has to return to Seireitei to teach now. After the first two weeks of almost daily trips to the Human world, he orders - on a whim - the students from his upper-year classes to split into groups before assigning each of them a project due at the end of the term on the theoretical creation of three new Kidou spells.

Group projects are not a thing at the Academy. Senzou wonders why.

He tells them that at least two of the research sources have to be from outside the Academy, and he smirks when he follows Fujiwara Asuka to the First Division compound to speak with her cousin, and then the Eighth to speak with her cousin’s former lieutenant, and then even braving the Fourth, straight-backed and stiff with anxiety but marching in anyway with her nervous group members in tow until she manages to wrangle fifteen minutes of time from a few of the healers willing to answer her questions about Kaidou.

Even here, Ichigo’s influence flourishes.

Outside the classroom, Senzou begins collecting copies of Human books. He half-bribes, half-blackmails the librarian into setting aside a section for him, and then he begins his own project of filling it.

“You’ve been busy,” Ichigo remarks when he staggers in from his last exam and collapses into a chair just as Senzou finishes setting the table for dinner.

Senzou arches an eyebrow, smirking when Ichigo just rolls his eyes.

“People tell me things,” Ichigo informs him, barely waiting for Senzou to sit down before falling onto the meal like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“You would make a poor king if people didn’t,” Senzou murmurs, smiling serenely when Ichigo’s eyes flick up to meet his. It’s not as intimidating when his cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk’s.

Actually, Ichigo in the Human world just seems less… overwhelming in general. It isn’t as if he’s any less powerful. This particular gigai doesn’t restrict him in any way. But there’s a relaxed quality in him here that Senzou’s observed in the past three weeks that’s always absent when he’s the rawest form of himself up in Seireitei.

“Soul Society needs to change,” Ichigo says at last, instead of denying anything. “If that means kicking it in the ass until it stops fucking up the lives it’s supposed to be looking after, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Yes, and Senzou has no doubt he’ll succeed. The majority of those in power have no desire to stop Ichigo. Those who do aren’t strong enough. And Ichigo wants it. He wants it with a conviction Senzou has never seen in anyone, almost obsessive in its unfaltering desire… like the abyssal hunger of a Hollow and the eternal grudge of a Quincy and the timeless pride of a Shinigami all rolled into one.

Ichigo wants it, and he’ll get what he wants.

The Soul King knows the universe owes him that much, and even if it didn’t, Senzou doubts it would make a single bit of difference to their God-Slayer.

He lifts his mug in a toast. “Then I look forward to your endeavours. You’ll need to watch out for Central 46′s spies though. I’m sure they won’t take this lying down.”

Ichigo cocks an eyebrow. “Is that an offer to keep your ear to the ground for me?”

Senzou attempts an innocent face, which works about as well as he expects when Ichigo snorts. “A mere Academy teacher like me probably can’t help much, but…” He thinks of the seals he’d planted throughout the entire Central 46 compound every time he’d had to report in, slowly but surely sneaking invisible ears into the heart of Soul Society’s government. “I might hear things now and then. I’ll pass it on if it happens to be interesting.”

Ichigo grins and tips his own mug at Senzou like they aren’t talking treason.

5. “So.”

Senzou almost rolls his eyes. The Shibas’ commitment to their theatrics clearly hasn’t changed.

“Kuukaku-chan,” He says instead as he strides into his office and smothers the urge to draw his blade on the woman sitting on his desk like she’s posing for Most Dramatic. He smiles instead, hiding the teeth of it behind his lips. “What a pleasure.”

Kuukaku grins back without any of the same courtesy. Of course. “None at all, I’m sure, so I’ll get straight to the point. What are you doing with Ichigo?”

Senzou does roll his eyes this time. “You’ll have to be more specific. As of yesterday, he’s teaching me how to drive a car.” His lip curls. “It’s a mode of transportation Humans have developed.”

“I know what a car is,” Kuukaku snaps, finally hopping down from the desk to prowl across the room. “Why is he teaching you? What do you want with him?”

Senzou pauses halfway through setting down a stack of essays to be marked. “…If I said vengeance on the Shiba Clan once I’ve convinced him to side with me, would that be about what you were expecting?”

Kuukaku glares and crosses her arms. “Ichigo would never.”

Senzou smirks. “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? You’ve wasted a trip.”

He brushes past her to flip through the paperwork on his desk. End-of-term reports are coming up, and that’s always a waste of his time, so the sooner he gets them done the better.

“I know you resent us for what happened to Miyako,” Kuukaku says from behind him, and Senzou wonders if he can just walk out. Probably, but there’s no way this woman won’t cause a scene. “But Ichigo wasn’t part of any of that.”

Senzou heaves a sigh and turns back around. “Kuukaku-chan, I thought we just established that we both know that using Ichigo against your family won’t work.”

“No,” Kuukaku nods. “But you could hurt him to get back at us.”

They eye each other for a long moment, not quite hostile but far from amicable.

“…My vengeance for Miyako was not lifting a finger when your clan was all but massacred,” Senzou finally says, ignoring the way Kuukaku’s expression pinches. “And so long as contact with you and yours is kept at an absolute minimum in the future, I don’t care anymore. Besides, there is no point in targeting Ichigo to get to you.” He sneers. “He’s a Shiba, but it would be an insult to consider him one of you.”

Kuukaku bristles but doesn’t explode in anger the way some of her even more hot-tempered relatives would. She stares at him instead, and when she doesn’t speak right away, Senzou goes back to organizing the contents of his desk.

“Say I believe that,” Kuukaku finally says, ignoring Senzou’s scoff. “Maybe you are hanging out with Ichigo with no ulterior motives. The gods know he makes that easy. But if that’s what you’re doing, there’s no way you won’t be seeing more of the rest of us eventually. He wasn’t raised the way a Shiba should’ve been, with none of our traditions and only a fraction of the family he should’ve had. That’s on us. But he’s still family, and so long as he doesn’t say no, we’re going to be a part of his life. You’re going to have to accept that if you plan on marrying in.”

The shelf closes with a resounding thud under his hand, and judging by the give, he’s probably cracked the back of it too. He barely notices as his gaze snaps back up to stare incredulously at his uninvited visitor. “I beg your pardon?”

Kuukaku smiles thinly, and this time she looks more amused than anything else. “Something to consider. But you’re more like Miyako than most people would think.” Her arms drop to her sides as she turns abruptly towards the window. “That’s all I had to say. You’re a smart man, Senzou. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fuck up.”

And before Senzou can demand an explanation or - more likely - set her on fire for cracking such an abysmal joke, she’s gone, disappearing through the window in a rush of Shunpo.

Senzou stares after her, then at the books he’d carried in earlier, then at the paperwork he’s putting off for the weekend because he has dinner with Ichigo tonight… just as he does almost every night nowadays.

He runs a hand over his face.

Shibas.

6. He says nothing. He’s self-aware enough to know (now, damn Kuukaku) that there’s something there, a spark, a connection, a pull Senzou has never felt towards anyone. He isn’t going to call it love or whatever Kuukaku thinks is happening because it isn’t. He finds Ichigo fascinating and endlessly entertaining, and anyone willing to face down Central 46 is worthy of some admiration in Senzou’s opinion. That Ichigo plans on turning the whole system upside-down and actually has the power to achieve it only raises Senzou’s esteem for him.

But he says nothing because Ichigo knows all this already. The day Senzou’s first instinct, when an assassin sent by Central 46 attempts to take Ichigo’s head, is to slit the hapless woman’s throat - even though he knows full well that she wouldn’t have come anywhere near to succeeding - is the moment Ichigo gets irrefutable proof that Koyonagi Senzou is willing to kill for him.

Ichigo doesn’t gloat of course, he isn’t the type. Senzou half-expects it anyway, breath caught in his lungs for a moment with something disgracefully close to fear twisting in his gut as he turns to check Ichigo’s reaction.

But Ichigo only wrinkles his nose and toes the fresh corpse at his feet, and then he glances at the blood splatter dotting Senzou’s shirt and offers to get him a new one.

He also reaches out to touch the hilt of Senzou’s Zanpakutou before nodding once, deliberately, solemnly, the weight of it as much a thanks as it is an acknowledgement.

And that was that. Senzou relaxes, doesn’t bat an eye when shadows surge up and swallow the body whole, and goes to change into another shirt. The incident passes, and it will be longer still before Ichigo’s enemies realize they probably should’ve tried harder to get rid of Senzou years ago. They’d thought themselves safe enough though: they would never earn Senzou’s allegiance, but at the same time, nobody - including Senzou - ever thought anybody else would earn it either.

But the point is, Ichigo knows. Senzou has no need to speak of it, and both of them are content with that. If something more comes of it down the road, Senzou doesn’t think he’d fight it. He lost this battle a good while ago, and he never even cared.

In the meantime though, he spies on Central 46 and enjoys what time he can spare in the Human world and continues reconstructing Seireitei’s education system brick by stubborn brick. There’s a kingdom to conquer and a god Senzou has pledged himself to, and for now, that is enough.

#headcanon meme: answered #bleach #koyoichi #koyonagi senzou #kurosaki ichigo #kyouraku shunsui #shiba kuukaku #post canon au #headcanon #hi brain #wtaf happened

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silvials · 4 years ago

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Landing After a Freefall

In which Laurent puts his own life at risk and can’t understand why Damen is so pissed at him.

It had started out as a good day.

They didn’t have any urgent matters to attend to, so Laurent had invited Damen to go for a ride with him. They made the mistake of taking a familiar path and riding unchaperoned, and it wasn’t until they were waylaid by a group of bandits at the outskirts of the forest did Laurent realize how foolish they had been.

Both Damen and Laurent were armed, but the bandits outnumbered them by three to one. Predictably, they didn’t perceive Laurent as a serious enough threat and instead focused most of their attention on Damen. The bandits revealed themselves to be former slave traders, and they threatened to kill Damen if he refused to lift the ban on slavery. It was obvious that Damen was planning to fight his way out, but with a sword against his neck and two more poised at his chest, there was no way he would make it out alive.

And so Laurent began to goad the bandits. He told them the laws against slavery were his idea, and that Damen was nothing but a puppet king who made decisions with his cock instead of his head. He insulted the Akielon culture, and told them they were just as half-witted and barbaric as their king. His words incited a wave of patriotic rage among the bandits, and earned him a nick in the neck from one of the slaver’s knife point.

The momentary shift in attention gave Damen a chance to break out of their hold, and he made quick work of dispatching the slavers before they could slit Laurent’s throat. Damen reached for Laurent instantly, and tilted his head up to inspect his wound. Once he saw it was just a scratch, the concern in his eyes was replaced by a look of cold fury.

“Why would you do that?” Damen growled with such intensity that it almost made Laurent take a step back.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” Laurent said, but he was unable to keep the shock from his tone. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I don’t care what you said,” Damen snapped at him. “Why would you put your life at risk like that?”

Laurent tried to mask his emotions with an air of nonchalance, but he found it difficult to school his expression. It’s been a while since he had to use those kinds of defenses against someone. “I was diverting attention away from you.”

“They had a knife to your throat!”

“And there were four men ready to run you through with their swords, in case you failed to notice.”

“What if I didn’t get to you in time? They would have cut you down, what then?”

Laurent didn’t know how to answer him, but he wasn’t about to apologize for saving Damen’s life. “I can take care of myself.”

Damen’s fists clenched at his sides, and Laurent instinctively tensed as he remembered the last time they argued this intensely at Ravenel.

Damen must have noticed his reaction. He took a step back, but kept his gaze trained on Laurent. “Do you truly not understand why I’m so upset?”

“Perhaps you’re too proud? Too emotional?”

“No,” Damen said. It almost seemed like a sigh of defeat. “I don’t want to do this here.” Then he turned away and strode towards their horses.

Laurent wanted to argue, wanted to find reasons to insult Damen, but his throat closed up as he was overcome with a sudden sense of shame. He might not understand the source of Damen’s wrath, but he definitely didn’t deserve to be provoked any further.

They arrived at the palace with little fanfare, but when Laurent made for the direction of their apartments, Damen blocked his path. “You need to see Paschal.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Damen’s hand closed around Laurent’s wrist and began leading him to the infirmary. His grip wasn’t tight enough to bruise, but it was clear that he would not hesitate to drag Laurent if he were to refuse.

Damen left him with Paschal, and when Laurent asked where he was going, he simply said he needed time to clear his head. Laurent tried not to feel like a scolded child.

Damen didn’t come back to their chambers until nightfall, and as much as Laurent pretended it didn’t bother him, he couldn’t get any work done because Damen’s absence was so jarring.

They simply regarded each other for a moment, Laurent from his place on the desk while Damen was leaning against the doorway. Laurent didn’t plan on being the first to speak, but the words slipped out on their own accord. “I’m sorry.”

This seemed to unravel something in Damen. The tension visibly drained from his shoulders and he crossed the distance between them to take Laurent into his arms. “I’m sorry as well. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, especially after what happened.”

“I’ve had worse,” Laurent said, thinking of his uncle’s assassination attempts. The events today would not have shaken him if it wasn’t for Damen’s anger.

“You frightened me,” Damen admitted. He pulled away from Laurent’s embrace, but kept him at arm’s length so he could look him in the eye. “Why do you treat your life like a bargaining chip?”

“I didn’t want to see you hurt,” Laurent said easily.

Damen’s grip on him tightened, and a hint of sadness flitted across his expression. “Did it occur to you that it would have hurt me more if something were to happen to you?”

The realization shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, but it’s been sp long since he had anyone who truly cared for him. His guards protected him out of loyalty. His uncle spent more time plotting his demise than worrying for his safety, and the council had only ever felt disappointment towards their supposedly spoiled prince.

Laurent must have taken too long to respond because Damen frowned at him. “Laurent, you are precious to me,” he said slowly, as if he was making sure his words were understood. “What you did today reminded me far too much of what happened at Kingsmeet, and I can’t bear to lose you that way again.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurent repeated. His heart clenched at the open devastation on Damen’s face, but he couldn’t make a promise to never do it again. “You are also very dear to me, and I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to you.”

“It doesn’t always have to come to that.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“I would gladly,” Damen agreed. “But only if it was my last resort. I’d find another way to protect you, one that doesn’t require a sacrifice that would only hurt you more.”

Laurent shook his head. “You can’t possibly guarantee that.”

“I found another way before, didn’t I?”

“I wish I shared your optimism.”

Damen sighed and took both Laurent’s hands in his own. “I know you cannot promise me anything, but the nest time you decide to do something so rash, just remember you are no longer alone.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Sometimes, I feel like you still need to be reminded.”

“Remind me then,” Laurent said. It was meant to be an invitation, nut he sounded a little too weary.

Damen planted a chaste kiss on his lips and another on his forehead, and then he tugged at his hands and guided him to their bed. Damen settled onto it first and pulled Laurent down next to him, but instead of undressing him, he circled his arms around Laurent’s waist and simply held him.

Laurent allowed himself to relax, resting his head on Damen’s chest so he could listen to his heartbeat. He had never doubted Damen’s love for him, but this was perhaps the first time he finally processed how much he meant to Damen.

#captive prince #lamen #laurent #damen #musings

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lilhemmo · 5 years ago

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24 & 70 w/ sweet pea

24: soulmate au70: locked in a room

a/n: so i’ve been wanting to write a bodyguard au and this just so happens to work out so here it is! and this is a fem!reader just because sp will specifically say “ma’am” repeatedly for, y’know, professionalism’s sake ;)

trigger warnings: violence, blood, guns, knives

“Ma’am.”

“You’re overreacting, just chill out. My father didn’t even have to send you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Seriously, this is fine! It’s just a club.”

“Ma’am.”

“What!?” you turn on your heels, scrunching up your nose in annoyance.

Sweet Pea opens the door for you, rather begrudgingly, “Please be safe.”

You laugh, the smell of alcohol and lost inhibitions wafting through the air, “That’s what I have you for, babe.”

You barely have time to gauge his reaction before you’re pushing through the crowd and making your way to the bar. Veronica wasn’t kidding when she said she was going to start buying up real estate all over Riverdale. Your father and Hiram were business partners at one time, but ever since Mr. Lodge was carted away to prison, you’ve been doing the business on your father’s behalf.

“Ronnie!” you squeal, launching yourself across the bar to hug her around the neck. “Girl, you will not believe. My father made me bring my bodyguard.”

Veronica smirks, watching as the man trying so hard to act casual sweeps the area with his eyes. She bites her lip before turning her attention back to you, “Honey, he picked the hottest bodyguard after Reginald. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, tapping the bar to request a drink. “He’s been hanging around for months, training or something. I just like to ruffle his feathers. Calling him ‘babe’ really pisses him off.”

“You’re a mess,” Ronnie rolls her eyes, “I’m going to check on Reggie. Of course everything is on the house. We’ll talk business later?”

You nod, pulling the straw between your lips and sipping on your drink concoction. Thank god the bartender knows your regular.

“Ma’am,” your bodyguard steps into your side, alerting you to his presence.

You chuckle and swirl your drink, “Any threats detected, sir?”

He sweeps his dark eyes over the dance floor before turning his attention back to you, “Probably a couple of perverts hovering near the ladies room. Other than that, nothing to report.”

“Perverts by the ladies room is just another Saturday night,” you smirk, setting your drink down on the counter. You sit with your back to the bar and you can tell that makes him nervous. He leans over and picks up your drink before anyone can come near it.

“If you hold it, it’ll get hot,” you whine emphatically. “Just put it on the counter, everyone knows me here.”

“Which is exactly why your father hired me,” he speaks curtly. “I won’t keep my job if you get your drink roofied.”

You shake your head and narrow your eyes, “My father is cowering in some penthouse hideaway, so I don’t currently take orders from him. I can’t believe I even let you follow me around the past few months.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not hired to be your friend,” he deadpans, handing your drink back to you. “I’m hired to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”

You gulp down the rest of your drink and slam the glass back on the counter, wiping your lip with the back of your hand. You go to speak, but he’s infuriating you past the point of speech, so you stalk off into the crowd to find someone to dance with.

six months later

“Get down!” he shouts, pushing you behind the kitchen table. He hands you a kitchen knife and your key ring that has pepper spray attached, “Ma’am, I’m going to take care of this, so stay put and be quiet.”

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing him by the shoulder. “What’s your name?”

He pants, his eyes darting from you to the door, “Uh, it’s Sweet Pea, ma’am.”

“Okay,” you nod, releasing his shirt, “I-I just thought I should know in case I, y’know, die or something.”

Sweet Pea smiles sadly, pushing a lock of sweaty hair away from your face, “You’re not dying today, ma’am. Just stay put, I’ll keep you safe.”

He’s gone before you have the chance to say anything else. You clutch your pepper spray to your chest and the knife wavers in your hand, so you hold it tighter, so tight that your knuckles turn white. You swallow and tears leak down your cheeks, burning your skin as you try to keep whimpers from escaping your lungs.

It feels like an eternity, gun fire and screaming and explosions echoing in the rooms adjacent to your own. You flinch with every loud noise, afraid that it might be the last thing you hear before you die. Your hand goes numb from clutching the kitchen knife, but it makes you feel safe so you don’t dare to let it go.

Then everything goes quiet.

The only thing you can hear is your own breath rattling around in your lungs. You try to watch for shadows against the walls, wondering if you’ll be taken by the men who threaten your home.

Your name is called by a familiar voice and you find tears streaming freely down your cheeks and a sob breaks your lips open. Sweet Pea turns the corner and he catches your body as it sags, the knife clattering from your hands to the kitchen tile floor.

“You’re okay, ma’am,” he murmurs into your hair as you cry into his shirt. You wilt against his body, but he holds you up with his arms around your shoulders.

You shake your head against his chest, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You go to speak, but you’re interrupted by your whole body leaving the ground. Clutching his shirt further, you realize that Sweet Pea has pulled you off the ground and started to carry you out of the house.

“I’ll take care of everything,” he tells you as he settles you in the back seat of his black SUV. “Just sleep. We’ll be home soon.”

You’re sure that you’ll never be able to sleep again in your lifetime, but as soon as the car starts and the hum of the engine vibrates your body, you find yourself lulled to sleep.

two months later

“I never believed in soulmates until I met Sweet Pea,” Toni chuckles, tipping her beer back against her lips. She smirks over at you, “I never knew he would be so different after he joined the force. He came back a different person, but I’m starting to see his old self come back again. Even just in glimpses.”

You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the parking lot where you know a familiar SUV is parked, watching your every move and making sure that you won’t come into any sort of harm. Your heart warms at the thought of it.

It’s difficult to even think about soulmates with the past few months you’ve had, but you know that the mark on your hand means that you have one. A flower that curls around your wrist and up your forearm means that you’re destined to have a life partner, one made perfectly for you.

“I doubt Sweet Pea has the mark,” you tell her, mouth against the rim of your glass. You force a smile onto your face, “Besides, I’m not in the line of work to have a soulmate. Too many casualties since my father went to prison.”

Toni shakes her head, “I think you’d be surprised what you’d find if you stripped him of a few pieces of clothing.”

Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t find it in you to respond.

Later that night, when Sweet Pea is doing a final sweep of your home, you reach out and grab him by the sleeve.

“Please,” you find yourself speaking weakly, tears threatening to fall. “Stay.”

You can see that he wants to object, but he raises his hand to press against the earpiece lodged on his left side and he mutters a few lines of code you can’t seem to understand. He nods to someone outside and then pulls the piece from his ear and takes you by the hand.

“Whatever you need, ma’am,” he tells you, allowing you to grasp him by the waist and pull him into your body. His warmth provides you with some sort of solace that you cannot explain no matter how hard you try.

“Thank you,” you whimper into his shirt. You swallow the lump in your throat and throw away any inhibition about the tears that are soaking his clothes.

Somehow you convince him to crawl into your bed, and the sound of his pistol clunking into the bedside drawer gives you some semblance of safety. It’s not your fault that he’s tall and quiet and intimidating, but all of those things rolled into this one man’s body make you feel at home.

four months later

You just wanted to test out your new panic room, that’s all. You just needed to learn how to close the doors and operate the cameras. It’s not your fault that there was a bug in the system from the company who installed it, and now you have to wait until someone from that very company can come to bail you out.

Oh well, at least you have some company.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I failed,” Sweet Pea apologizes as he paces the small space. He shakes his head and the veins on his arms and neck and forehead stress against his skin. He sighs, “I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

You intercept him and brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you, “Sweets, it’s okay. It was an accident.”

“I’m the head of your security team,” he grunts, trying to keep his cool with you so close. “I should be smarter than this.”

You try not to laugh as to not further damage his ego. Instead, you frame his face with both palms, “You’re the head of my security team because I trust you with my life. Nobody could have predicted a malfunction with the safe, and there’s no reason to go all James Bond on the situation because we have an alternative way out and we’re not currently in danger.”

Sweet Pea shrinks a little into your touch, the metaphorical weights sliding off of his shoulders and allowing him a moment to breathe. He looks you in the eyes, “I appreciate the sentiment, ma’am, and the hesitation to scold me.”

“I can scold you if you like,” you wink, dropping your hands back to cross your arms over your chest. “If that’s what you’re into.”

It’s only there for a fleeting moment, but Sweet Pea’s eyes and skin betray him as his cheeks burn pink and his eyes travel to your lips.

You reach across and tug on his gloved hand, “Do you ever take these off?”

“They help my grip,” he explains, “so I only take them off when I sleep.”

You bite your lip, contemplating how to see if he has the soul mark to match your own. You’ve felt a connection to this man for a while now, but you were only ever able to explain it to yourself as the connection you feel when you lay your life in someone else’s hands.

“I want to see your wrist.”

You settle for direct.

He blanches, eyes wide and mouth drawn open. Sweet Pea swallows, his throat bobbing, but he reaches for his glove anyway. He must know what you’re talking about, because he reaches for the exact hand you had in question. If it has what you think it has written over it, he will be your exact match.

“Wait,” you order, grabbing him by the hand.

Sweet Pea halts, eyes open as he stares down at you. You gently drag one palm up his torso to card into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him downward to meet you halfway as you stand to your toes.

“I want to do this before I know,” you tell him, your lips a ghost against his. He does not struggle or pull away, and so you push yourself the rest of the way until your mouth is flush with his.

It takes him a moment to respond, but his arms rest at your waist and he tugs you as close as he can, abdomens completely in line with one another. His lips are tangled with yours, slotted perfectly, just as you assumed they would be. His mouth is warm and tastes of cinnamon, just like the gum he constantly chews throughout the day. You wonder what you taste like to him, but you haven’t got another moment to care when he bites down on your lower lip and hooks his hands under your knees.

Sweet Pea hoists you onto the small counter in the tiny panic room, resting his body between your knees and never breaking the connection of your lips. A small groan emits from the back of his throat and now you’re dying to know if he is your match, your soulmate.

You break apart, hair mussed and lips bright red. You can’t help the giggle that tugs open your mouth, but you force yourself to redirect your attention to his wrist.

“I didn’t want it to be just because we were meant to be,” you tell him as your hand hovers over his glove. You slide your index finger under the lip of the material, feeling his pulse quicken under your touch. “I had to let you know that I wanted this before I know.”

He nods, a heady breath shaking his lungs, “I-I wanted it to. But I already know.”

You remove his glove, and there, wrapped around his wrist, is a beautiful flower with petals to match your own.

a/n: whew, that was a long one! hope you liked it, anon! feel free to request more!! :)

#sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale #riverdale x reader #riverdale fanfic #riverdale one shot #riverdale imagine #sweet pea imagine #my writing

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polygamyff · 5 years ago

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52. Part 2

Opening the baby gate laughing at Shawn, he has been harassing me call after call “I am awake” walking over to him “later as hell, I am all excited for this my nigga come here” Shawn hugged me “I am tired, but I have something to tell you. I have changed the plan, we are still going away but” I paused “oh no, why a but? What is happening?” he is all panicking about this “nothing bad, just that I didn’t tell Robyn early enough, I told her yesterday because I forgot, I have had so much on my mind, you know. So, I told her yesterday and she wasn’t upset about it or angry, she said I needed some time away but she is on call for this weekend, and she said what if she gets called in, what happens when Reign. So, I said I will take her with me to Spain” Shawn’ mouth fell open “what!?” he spat “I love Reign, I do. She is my niece, but she will pose a trouble for us, how we going to relax with Reign? It’s not a good idea, ok. So, let me think” Shawn is the only one to be having a meltdown about this, I am so relaxed about it. I think Reign is no problem at all, that is my daughter “I will get Nalah to have her, she will take her for the duration of Robyn on call, then we can go to Milan and have fun, come on Maurice. You’re going to be chasing after Reign, how are you going to relax? Shit is not logical; we are meant to be having us time. Right?” nodding my head “ok, so if you can sort that out for us. Come on Maurice, you need to whine down a little bit. I am sorry Maurice” I sighed out “I wanted to go and see Mami actually, well Paula. We can relax still?” Shawn sighed out “then what if Nalah comes with us?” I shook my head “now I feel like my daughter is getting between your little vacation” Shawn pulled a face at me “seriously? My little vacation, I am just trying to help you so we can spend time together but now you want to go and visit your step mother?” mean mugging Shawn “there is a reason why I don’t fuck with you anymore, I have moved on. I don’t need you, or Nalah or any of you. Just fuck off and make your own trip, get the fuck out of my home too. Watch your mouth too, go!” I spat, Shawn shook his head and walked off “you have changed, nigga!” Shawn said walking off.

I don’t need Shawn, assuming my daughter is a pain and will be in the middle of this stupid vacation, I don’t need him. I will be going away without him and with my daughter. You know what, I feel I have moved on and him acting highly upset about it is bullshit, he should be happy for me. I didn’t make the effort with him, so what. He knows I am busy but yet he does this, no friend does that. He fucking with the wrong nigga because I will destroy his fucking life, I am very angry right now “hey Maurice” Ally picked up finally “I need the jet to go to Spain instead, just update it please” disconnecting the call, I need to get ready to go, he is right. I need time away from this shit, I just want to have some peace and that will be my only way for this. Opening my bedroom door “is Shawn here?” Robyn asked while she dressed Reign, if I say I had a disagreement with Shawn about Reig, she will then think I am annoyed but then will want me to not take Reign because of my mood “fine, he will meet me at the airport” I mean, I will tell Robyn after because she may talk me out of it. I am annoyed because I feel like Shawn was making it seem like my daughter was in the way, I don’t want Nalah looking after her. And fuck that, I want to see Mami.

Robyn has Reign wearing a little backpack and I find it the cutest thing ever “my little globe trotter, you ready? We about to go on an adventure” picking Reign “I have everything in this suitcase and yes it’s big, I don’t care if it’s just the weekend. Just be safe. I am not sure about letting her go but I trust you and I know she will listen to you, also I am nervous. Maurice seriously, just bring her back if anything. Swap roles with Shawn too, if she is sad then please bring her back. See now I am getting sad, just come back with her. Please” Robyn strained out “it will be one night, like I would come back Monday but just one night. I will be back, don’t worry” I chuckled “I know but just be safe ok? And you don’t be a brat for him, little madam” Reign doesn’t understand the dramatics “we good ain’t we? It’s an adventure for us” Robyn sighed out “I love you both so much, come back. I feel better it’s just one night now” leaning down and pressing a kiss to Robyn’ lips “why didn’t you get Jay to go with you?” shaking my head “I don’t need anyone, I love you. Say bye mommy!” grabbing Reign arm and waving “bye baby, love you both” walking out of the door.

This is easy, Reign is asleep. I placed pillows all around her and I can see the made-up bed from where I am sat, I thought I will do some work while on the jet to Spain. I mean I don’t really care for Shawn right now; I am on a different path and speaking of the nigga, answering the skype call he clearly saw me online “what?” I answered “did you go then? Look I didn’t want it to come off the wrong way, I don’t want to argue with you, I am sorry please. Just don’t cut me off like that” I shrugged “when Robyn and Reign moved to me you knew my priorities would change; you knew I would be busy. You’re making me feel like you preferred me being lonely always calling on you?” Shawn’ mouth fell open “ok, ok. You two, let me sit in on this. What is happening? I have him upset and then you? You both are the worst, like an old couple. Sensitive bitches!” Nalah sat next to Shawn “he is the sensitive one crying in my office, I am just trying to keep up with my life. Is that a hard thing to understand with any of you! Like fucking listen to yourselves, Maurice do this, do that. Give me some fucking attention, just fuck off. I don’t want to give it, how about that!? Shawn knows I have shit to do, I have shit going on every fucking end and you want to have some attention” see now he’s got me worked up “Maurice, come on now. Just relax, you don’t do well with stress you’re going to get ill, come on now. I think wires are being crossed here. I understand, listen to me. Are you on the jet then?” Nalah asked “yeah, I am going Spain” Nalah rolled her eyes “you’re so stubborn, you both are just being hormonal with each other. He told me, he just wanted time with you and he just wanted solutions but then you got offended by it, you are feeling sensitive Maurice” I sighed out “whatever Nalah, then if you know I am stressed then why add to it? You and that dumbass know me so well then fucking act like it, please don’t call me. I don’t want to know; this weekend is my time. Bye” disconnecting the skype.

I am honestly missing my babies, I feel like I have nothing to do because it would be just my luck that nothing is happening, I have not even asked to come in at all which is sad because now I am just sat around eating, nothing else to do but that. I honestly must be crazy to be letting Maurice take Reign out of the country but then he is fine with her, he literally takes care of her at home so what is the difference, but I am missing them so much. My phone buzzed at the side of me and then the buzzer went off, picking my phone up from the side of me to check. My phone unlocked and bought up the camera, oh it’s Nalah. Pressing the speaker “the door is unlocked” unlocking the door, Nalah waved at the camera walking in. This is the bonus of this home, the cameras and I don’t have to ever leave what I am doing to let someone in, stifling out a yawn. After all that I could have kept Reign with me, that honestly annoys me because I wouldn’t have mind taking care of her. Hearing the elevator ping “nobody got the time to walk them stairs” I chuckled turning on the couch to look at her “I don’t know what I would do if it broke, this is a nice surprise. Nice dress bitch, is that Dior?” Nalah looking classy as shit “you know it, hey girl. Don’t get up, sit there. I am tired and can’t wait to take off these heels, I have been running around for that golden boy and then I just get his abuse” Nalah huffed out sitting down “busy then?” sitting back on the couch “yes, for my dad’ great idea for a wedding, well I told you we still have the dresses from last time, he has the suits but my dad is just fussing and I am all hot and bothered so give me a moment” poor Nalah she looks like she has been harassed by everyone.

I made Nalah a cocktail “you didn’t need too at all but this looks delicious, I have heard about your booze selection” I smiled sitting across from her “it’s ok, I mean we don’t exactly drink constantly but when Maurice hosts his little events, maybe then” watch me get called in now someone is here “so are you on call? With your work, what is that? Why don’t you be at work?” Maurice must have mentioned it to her “so I am the one duty if needed so, I can be home but if they call me I have to go. So it’s like a day off but not a day off also, so I am like the point of call for emergencies that need to be done to save that person’s life quickly. I don’t mind that but it’s annoying because like today, nobody will call me in but I did get a call from someone asking advice which I said can be scheduled for when I am in, there is that” Nalah let out an oh “that is so interesting, amazing work” I shrugged smiling “it’s ok I suppose, how is you and Shawn? Still going strong?” might as well ask “chile, he would be ok if he wasn’t crying over Maurice constantly. He came back in the morning like Maurice told me to fuck off and that he doesn’t fuck with him anymore, like complaining as shit. So, I told Shawn skype him, he is online. Shawn apologised, so then I started to talk to him, and Maurice is just pissed off and stressed which I understand so he is just snapping at me, told me to not call him, men! The whole reason was that Maurice felt like Shawn didn’t want Reign there, Shawn just wanted him to have a solution, he said I can babysit Reign. But nothing was right for him so there is that” Nalah spat “wait, I am confused where is Shawn?” raising an eyebrow “home, Maurice said for him to not go and he will go alone to Spain” my face softened “he didn’t say that to me at all, seriously” I huffed out, what is he playing at “oh, he didn’t?” Nalah’ face softened “I know him, I sleep with the man every night, talk to him every night and day when we not busy and I know he is stressed out, I know he is upset. I wanted Shawn to help him so he can relax, my god” rubbing my face “don’t be angry with him” Nalah was quick to say, picking my phone from the side “watch” I said, she can sit and hear what I say.

Placing my phone against my ear, I am not angry with him, but I just don’t want him to struggle but then again I don’t think he will at all “hey” he sounds so husky “had a nap?” I asked “uh” he cleared his throat “yeah, I did. Still flying, just fell asleep” nodding my head “ok, how is Reign?” I can’t hear her “she is asleep still, I think she will be awake soon” Nalah talking about don’t be angry with him, she doesn’t know me “what about what happened with Shawn, Maurice?” I asked, I didn’t shout or make out that I am angry with him “he told you?” Maurice was quick to say “no he didn’t, Nalah is here. She thought I knew, so you took Reign with you. Father and daughter time huh? Bonita not invited” I said smiling, Nalah is looking at me like I am crazy “you were, just you are busy. I guess it is daddy and daughter time” I sighed out “well, I just wanted to know. Call me when you land ok?” I mean deep down I am not happy, I am slightly upset and concerned that he is alone with her “I will, love you” he sounds sad “love you too” disconnecting the call “seriously? Aren’t you like angry?” shaking my head “I want to be his peace, why do I need to shout at him? He doesn’t need that, I want to be the woman he needs and I will get that back from him. If I start shouting at him, start saying you stole my baby, you stole her! You took her there and you lied. I mean I could have but I know Maurice is going through it right now. He’s going to see Paula; he will have his happy time with his daughter and that is what I know. Nalah, he is a good father. He is feeling stressed, Marquis is ill, you and I both know his days are numbered” Nalah’ face softened “I didn’t think you would know or even take notice” Nalah said “take notice of a man Maurice’ adores, I am not sure if Maurice knows it in his heart or that he is being blind to it? but I am scared to know what he will be like” Nalah needs to realise that I have to handle my life better and my mom would be proud “I think Maurice will need time, he has a good woman, he has you so I don’t think he will be bad. I was shocked to see how you handled it” I chuckled.

Nalah keeps speaking on how I handled it, I think she expected me to be angry, but I know Maurice has been struggling and I don’t want to stress him, it will flare up his sickle cell. I just want to get married to him now “I don’t know what is wrong with me but recently I have been feeling it, like I want another baby. I feel like Reign grew on me too fast, I just really been feeling broody about it, I don’t know. Even though Reign is still my baby, I just want another one. And I’ve been playing with the idea of letting it happen natural or do it through insemination, but I think the second option would be best, Maurice wouldn’t be able to deal with it if the baby had it, you know. It’s so random maybe soon but yeah” I shrugged, I have been wanting to have another, but I maybe need to wait it out a little longer “girl, when I see Reign I get baby fever. I told Shawn we are baby making, so we are currently trying. I get how you feel with wanting a baby, I do too” I cooed out “me and you could be pregnant together” I pointed at her.

I was going to go back to my childhood home, but I decided to go and see Mami “thank you my friend” I said, the driver took all the stuff out for me, leaving the case and stroller outside. Reign is quiet, I prefer it that way but I think she is just thinking what is this “why is Mami taking so long” pressing the buzzer again “what is she like, she knows I am here” pressing a kiss to Reign’ cheek, she has had a long flight. Reign is not in the mood “mi chico esta en casa!” hearing Mami shout “Mami, I came to see you” Mami’ eyes grew “Maurice, the baby” the gate opened “oh my god, Maurice she is beautiful” Reign was quick to look away, she didn’t want to know right now “she is grumpy right now, I missed you!” Mami got her arms open “come on, come here. Te quiero mucho maurice, eres mi chico” leaning down and hugged Mami, she pressed a kiss to my cheek “so happy to see you” she gives the best hugs “I love you too Mami, I been feeling so down” moving back from the hug “Mami knows, you know I know baby” she touched my face, Reign finally looked “Mami, this is Reign-Texas. The other girl that has taken my heart, she means so much. Hey” Reign grinned at me “you know I am speaking about you, don’t you” Reign giggled clapping her hands, I am so happy to be back in Spain, it’s love here “yes Mi Amor, Mami thinks you’re beautiful” I laughed, Mami reached towards Reign to hold her hand “she is beautiful, she got you Maurice. I know, I took care of you remember. Oh I am so happy to see her, let’s go inside. Franco will pick up your things, come” I hope she don’t think I’m staying here.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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steviemae · 6 years ago

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oops // sp

requested by anonymous: Hi can you do a sweet pea cheats on reader with Josie and she’s all angsty and sad and her bff fangs and her end up having sex to get low key get SP upset. ;) please and thank you ❤️ ( she’s a serpent bred)

You stood in the doorway of your boyfriend’s bedroom, thinking you were going to surprise him with breakfast before school, but instead he surprised you. With Josie McCoy in his bed.

“Oh my god.” you finally let out after what felt like years of silence.

“y/n? Listen, okay. I can explain.” Sweet Pea said jumping up off the bed and walking towards you.

“Explain what? Why you were just in bed with Josie? I think it’s pretty obvious what was happening, Pea. She’s not wearing any clothes.” you motioned towards Josie who was scrambling to pick up her clothes and put them back on, “Don’t bother, i’m leaving.” you said tossing the bag of food onto the coffee table as you passed. You stormed out of his trailer, pretty much running to your truck. Sweet Pea stood on his porch, watching as you skidded down the gravel road in a desperate attempt to put as much distance between you and that trailer as fast as possible. As you drove you pulled out your phone immediately calling Fangs, your best friend, who answered after the third ring.

“We’re skipping school today. I’m outside.” you said into the phone after he said hello. He walked out not a moment later, climbing into your car and looking at you.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I walked into Sweet Pea’s trailer with breakfast and i found him in bed with Josie fucking McCoy.” your voice broke halfway through telling him what happened and the tears began to fall.

“y/n, i’m so sorry. Come here.” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him on the bench seat of your truck. He let you cry into his chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“No, you know what. I’m done crying. He didn’t give a shit about my feelings when he slept with her last night so i’m just gonna act like this doesn’t bother me because he doesn’t deserve to see me cry over him.” you said angrily wiping the tears from your eyes.

“You want to go get some Pop’s then?” Fangs asked. You nodded, sliding back over in front of the steering wheel and pulling away from his trailer.

“Did you know?” you asked as you pushed the pancakes you ordered around on your plate.

“Know what?” Fangs asked.

“About Josie and Sweet Pea?”

“Oh, no i didn’t actually. You telling me when you picked me up was the first i’ve ever heard about it.” he answered shoving more food into his mouth.

“This sucks!” you exclaimed dropping your fork onto the table. Your eyes welled up with tears again and Fangs gave you a knowing look. He knew you were talking out of your ass earlier when you said you weren’t going to cry. Shit like this hurts, even the toughest of people and he knew you better than anyone. You were going to hurt for a while, but you were stubborn so you weren’t going to let Sweet Pea see you hurting.

Fangs threw some bills on the table, standing up and motioning for you to come alone. You walked out to your truck, Fangs opening the passenger door for you to get in and closing it back once you were in. He climbed into the driver seat, starting your truck up and heading back towards Southside.

“Where are we going?” you asked through sniffles.

“Sweet Pea is at school so we’re going to get your stuff from his trailer so you don’t have to face him to get it. Also it’ll make him really upset to see all of your stuff is gone when he gets home.”

You climbed out of the truck, heading straight for the door. You double checked that his bike was actually gone and not hiding on the side of his trailer before entering. You started grabbing your clothes out of his closet and dresser, throwing them in one of your bags, while Fangs went into the bathroom to grab all of your toiletries. Within minutes all of your stuff was packed into bags and being throw into the bed of your truck.

The rest of the day, you and Fangs hung out in your apartment. He helped you put your stuff away and then the two of you sat on the couch, you crying into his chest, while he tried his best to calm you down.

It was time for the Serpent meeting that FP called earlier this week, so you got up and tried your best to make it look like you hadn’t been spending the last few hours crying because your boyfriend cheated on you. You slipped your jacket over your shoulders and followed Fangs outside to your truck.

At the Wyrm you stayed on the farthest side of the bar, away from anywhere you knew Sweet Pea would hang out. You almost didn’t come to the meeting not really wanting to see Sweet Pea at all after this morning, but you weren’t going to miss a Serpent meeting. And you can only thank god that Fangs was by your side.

After the meeting you and Fangs tried to rush to your car to avoid Sweet Pea, but when you walked outside, Sweet Pea was leaning against the front of it. You rolled your eyes, walking straight to the driver side and opening the door. Sweet Pea quickly made his way over, shutting it before you could get inside and standing in between you and the truck.

“Move.” you said.

“Not until you talk to me.” he stated crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have nothing to say to you other than we’re done. Now move.” you spat.

“It was a one time thing, y/n. Please. I’ll never talk to her again if it means you and i stay together.” he pleaded.

“Should’ve thought about that before you slept with her in the first place. Now get the fuck out of my way.” you growled staring him dead in the eyes.

“So that’s it?” he asked.

“Yes that’s it. What else did you want me to say? How else did you think i’d react? You slept with someone else, Sweet Pea. You can’t honestly stand here and tell me you thought it would be okay that i found you in bed with Josie this morning.” you scoffed.

“No but i at least thought you’d hear me out. Or y’know, not break into my trailer and get all of your stuff out while i was at school.”

“I didn’t break in, dumbass. I have a key, which you can have back by the way. I won’t be needing it.” you said handing him the key after you took it off your key ring, “now get the fuck out of my way so i can leave. This conversation is over.”

Sweet Pea moved without another word, allowing you to climb in your truck where Fangs waited in the passenger seat. You sped off without looking back at him in the mirrors.

Back at your trailer, you and Fangs lay in your bed staring at the ceiling in silence. You started crying the second you entered your trailer, but now you just laid there with dried tears on your face while Fangs laid next to you trying to think of ways to get back at Pea.

“You know, you could always sleep with someone you know he would be very upset about to get back at him.”

“Sweet Pea hates everyone. Anyone i slept with would piss him off.”

“Yeah, but sleep with someone he thought he could trust. That’ll really hurt him.” Fangs suggested.

“Who? You? Because the only two people he genuinely cares about are you and Toni and i’m not gay.” you stated. Fangs shrugged his shoulders putting his hands behind his head. You thought it over for a second before saying fuck it and climbing on top of Fangs, letting your lips find his.

“You know this will fuck up your friendship with him, right? You sure you want that?” you asked.

“I became friends with him because you introduced us. I think i’m fine with this.” he said with a chuckle.

Fangs dropped down on the bed next to you, both of you out of breath and sweaty. You threw the blankets over the both of you to shield your bodies from the cold air of your room as your turned on your side to face Fangs.

The next morning you were sleeping peacefully until a loud voice woke you up.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Sweet Pea yelled from the doorway of your room. You sat up, holding the blanket to your chest as you wiped the sleep from your eyes. You looked at Sweet Pea who looked hurt and angry and then down at a sleeping Fangs who laid next to you. You looked back up at Sweet Pea, shrugging your shoulders before speaking.

“Oops.”

#riverdale imagines #sweet pea imagines #riverdale imagine #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #writing #imagines #steviemae

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staliasjeronica · 6 years ago

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Riverdale 3.09 Thoughts *Spoilers*

- Choni ❤️❤️❤️ But “stealing from.the rich to give to, well, us” what? Cheryl… YOU’RE RICH. Give some of the money to the Serpents They need it a bit more than you do baby. BUT BITCH THEIR FIRST I LOVE YOU I’M—

- Five weeks of the quarantine… that would have made an INCREDIBLE story line? Seriously? It would have been amazing to see Sweet Pea being temporary king while Jarghead and FP were gone. But no… let’s just skip the good part? What the fuck kinda writing skips.a great plot?

- “All physical contact must be kept to a minimum?” um… literally WHY? There’s literally NO reason for that to be a rule? Also fuck off Moose no ones likes a tattle tale and we all know that you’re slumming it up with Kevin after school so leave my babies alone. Oh. it’s for the seizures? Really? Dude SEIZURES ARE NOT FUCKING CONTAGIOUS YOU STUPID FUCKERS OH MY GOD. Stop trying to keep then gays from being cute!!!!!!!

- The RROTC made the rules? Dude they don’t run the school lmao that’s NOT HOW THINGS WORK

- JOSIE SINGING!!! MY BABY VERONICA!!! UGH FUCK ME UPPPP

- VEGGIE. VERONICA IS LOOKING AT JOSIE’S INCREDIBLE SINGING WHILE REGGIE IS AWING AT VERONICA I’M—

- Ew and then my mood is ruined by bughead waking up 😷😷😷

- Betty put all of those girl’s… in HER house? THE COOPERS CAN BARELY TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES LET ALONE THOSE GIRLS. Also don’t they fucking have families? And yes, Betty, that scream definitely would wake up your mom because they have those motherly instincts and they’d think their child was hurt, so ofc she’s going to wake up.

- They want to play… G&G… are you kidding me? I kinda get that it makes them feel better because that’s how they had it in SOQM but still WHY? JUST PLAY CLASSICAL MUSIC OR SOMETHING AND TAKE A BATH.

- Of course Jughead goes from his horrible leadership to “I left you too long” stfu right now your priority is the Serpents and who’s dealing the drugs (although I know who and uhhhh leave them alone he has to stay alive somehow)

- They don’t even have an elected Sheriff yet? WHY? SHERIFF KELLER DIDN’T DIE DID HE? THEN FUCKING REINSTATE HIM??? IT’S NOT THAT FUCKING HARD YOU STUPID FUCKS

- “Maybe that means that Archie could come back home” wE KNOW YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM BETTY. Barchie!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

- Reggie ❤️❤️❤️ WOAH WHAT NO LEAVE HIM ALONE? HE ALREADY GETS ABUSED BY HIS FATHER! But aw Ronnie gets to take care of him I’m—

- Hiram really is trying to hustle his daughter wow so uhhh he does know that his daughter is the incredible Veronica Lodge, right? She’ll find a way lol we all know the queen can do everything

- “Has anyone ever told you you’re a badass?” Wow Reggie is so fucking into her I’m just 😭😭

- If Vegas gets hurt RAS will LITERALLY DIE. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AND I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. Also there’s no way Vegas wouldn’t have seen or heard the bear behind him but sure whatever. ARCHIE JUST BC SHE’S ZONING OUT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN’T HEAR HER. JUST DO WHAT SHE SAYS JESUS. Also how convenient that it suddenly doesn’t work.

- “They imprinted on me” Betty NEVER say that again that was gross as fuck. “But as their queen, they are your responsibility, not mine” bitch Betty can’t be a queen no matter how hard she tries, and she (nor Jughead) know how to take care of anyone but themselves so… Alice unless you want Betty to end up killing them, this is where you, as the mom, undermine her and take them to the farm. Of course I don’t trust the farm but it’s much safer than the Cooper house hold because they have the resources to spare, the Cooper’s don’t.

- Hey here’s an idea… since you can’t get to Hiram using the nuns because they took a vow of silence (cowards) then maybe… just maybe… OUT IT AS A CONVERSION THERAPY HELL SITE AND USE THAT INSTEAD? But we know Betty doesn’t want to save the gays so 😷😷

- I love Josie’s singing but why is she singing in an empty lounge? REST HER VOCALS.

- I used to love Hiram’s evil-ness but now he just shows up all the time and it’s getting annoying. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD END THIS FUCKING PLOT SO VERONICA CAN FOR ONCE GET HER OWN STORY THAT BETTY DOESN’T TAKE, THAT DOESN’T REVOLVE AROUND HER FATHER OR A GUY. SERIOUSLY. They have so much potential with literally any other character but still decide to force Bughead and their separate characters down our throats. Like at this point honestly just kill them both off Jesus Christ

- Jughead… this is a gang… they’ve always sold drugs? At least, weed, but still? You have to take into consideration that you were gone, and they were placed under quarantine, and they needed money. You can’t blame any of them for dealing with Hiram you whiny piss baby. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

- God it bothers me that Jarghead is such a lowsy king. When do we get Sweet Pea overthrowing him? pLEASE WE NEED IT SO TONI CAN LEAD BESIDE HIM. Maybe Swangs (even though I know what happens) and Choni can co-lead the Serpents

- Cheryl speaking facts! AND MY BOY FANGS. Jughead had NOTHING to say to Fangs and FP had to step up and cover for Jughead, because he was right. What else are they supposed to do? Gangs are supposed to do bad shit? Jughead has done ultimate horrible shit and suddenly he’s going to act like a gang is supposed to be clean? Jughead do your research that is not what gangs do. Also, if FP is going to be at every fucking Serpent meeting maybe he should, you know, take his spot back. He’s a MUCH better leader than Jughead, even though I’d prefer it be one of the founding members like TONI FUCKING TOPAZ or something.

- I love how no one really does the “in unity there is strength” thing. Like, they know they’re being lead to slaughter basically and FP is just letting it happen. Also, they’re running the gang into the ground. There is no more unity because JUGHEAD’S STUPID POWER-HUNGRY ASS ISN’T DOING SHIT TO HELP THE GANG. Also also Betty looks so out of place and awkward there. Can’t wait for Archie to come back and for her to realize that he almost died and then realize she can’t live without him and that she loves him and finally bughead can split for good and barchie can rise

- If Veronica paid why the FLYING FUCK did they go after Josie? FucK OFF HIRAM

- Polly you had to say his name. LEAVE MY BOY ALONE.

- FANGS CRYING STOP STOP STOP MY BABY BOY NO NO NO

- “We could’ve helped you” JUGHEAD YOU LITERALLY JUST BANNED CRIME. THE SERPENTS HAVE NO MONEY WHAT ELSE WHAT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DO? Also they can’t get mad at him bc this was before Jughead got back and did the stupid crime law like a hypocrite

- DUDE FANGS DID THIS BEFORE THE FUCKING RULE YOU STUPID FUCKERS? LIKE??? DO YOU HAVE NO BRAIN CELLS?

- Oh Jughead has one brain cell left? I know he ends up being cancelled but he’s not… yet.

- CHONI BREAKING IN AND STEALING SHIT YES BITCH

- Why is Archie hallucinating playing G&G? Like doesn’t this mean he’s playing by himself? The fuck?

- Dead ass Cassidy telling Archie it sounds like his fault that all that happened, you can tell that this is Archie’s mind because he always blames himself for things that have nothing to do with him. Because we know that it’s definitely NOT his fault. None of it is.

- Cheryl just HAD to kiss the picture

- JERONICA. JERONICA. JERONICA. JERONICA. JERONICA. JERONICA. JERONICA. MY FANFIC IS COMING TO LIFE. JUGHEAD AND THE SERPENTS PROTECTING VERONICA YASSSSSSSSS

- I’m mad that they didn’t have Joaquin not actually die. Like, Sweet Pea and Fangs were close to him? They could have faked his death like what the fuck

- YES WE LOVE AND STAN LAWYER MCCOY

- How did Jughead know that Toni was involved? Cheryl was the only one who left a stupid calling card.

- THE TEARS WELLING IN TONI’S EYES STOP STOP STOP

- But he can’t fucking kick her out she’s literally a legacy. This crusty white boy needs to sit the fuck down

- Okay one, Cheryl why would you bring Fangs back into it? THE FUCK. Also, Jughead you can’t be disappointed in Fangs for telling SP even though you said not to tell anyone—best friend’s never count.

- SWEET PEA STANDING UP. FANGS CRYING. “Some leader you are” YES FANGS WHAT A KING. SWEET PEA BBY OH MY GOD

- “And the rest of us don’t get to go back to Thistlehouse” says the disgusting whiny piss baby who gets to sleep in his girlfriend’s house, in her comfortable bed while his gang lays in cots or some shit in tents. Get off your mighty high horse, Jughead. God, now they’re switching roles… Betty is kinda becoming SLIGHTLY tolerable and now Jughead is being so fucking annoying. Go back to how it was please.

- JERONICA. AND VEGGIE. EXCELLENCE.

- So Archie standing over Hiram and shit was all a fucking dream? Really? COME ON. Lol Hiram has a point though because everyone goes in and tells him their fucking plans. OMG THE CALLBACK TO THE FIRST EPISODE WAS GREAT. CALL BACK TO BARCHIE BEING ENDGAME YESSSS.

- So if Veronica ended up smashing the egg… then fucking give Fangs, Toni, and Cheryl their spots in the Serpents back since it was all for nothing anyways.

- I’m glad Cheryl and Nana Rose are housing some fo the girls but WHAT ABOUT THE SERPENTS YOU GUYS HAVE A BIG FUCKING HOUSE. Why didn’t she house some of them there? I mean it’s ooc for Toni not to be thinking of her fellow Serpents why wouldn’t she be like “hey babe you have a lot of room here what if we help house some of the Serpents” but uhhh apparently not.

- Hey FP shut the fuck up with this “she’s still a Lodge” shit because you all know she doesn’t associate herself with her parents anymore. Remember “you don’t have a daughter” or…?

- Jughead brought up when FP worked for Hiram. Hell yeah! But him saying he wants Jughead to be a better king than him? BITCH YOUR SON DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO RUN A GANG. HE SUCKS. HE’S STUPID AND RUINING THE GANG HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT? God never give your throne to blood family.

- Yeah, FP, you’re not made for the sidelines you’re made to RULE you stupid fuck. Maybe you should get back with Alice she makes you more stable and less stupid

- REGGIE’S LIKE “NOT THIS TIME BITCH”

- SWEET PEA WITH A BAT FUCK YEAH

- So… you threaten the gargoyle bitch but you don’t unmask him to see who he is? Are you fucking stupid?

- Wtf… he has to beat himself with a bat on his own bed? I am confusion… WHAT THE FLYING FUCK? THE BLACK HOOD AND HIRAM AND THE GARGOYLE KING HAVE DONE SHIT NOT YOU YOU BIG BAFOON. NO DON’T DESTROY YOU’RE GOOD HEARTED INNOCENCE. YOU’RE THE ONLY BRAVE ONE OF THE CORE FOUR. ARCHIE NO.

- If they make Archie unlikable the only good core four person will be Veronica.

- VERONICA SINGING ❤️❤️❤️ Oh fuck I know this song but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it!!!

- VEGGIE. SHE’S SO FUCKING HAPPY TO SEE HIM I’M— HE’S SO ENAMORED WITH HER. VEGGIE KISS. Why can they make their chemistry shown on screen but Bughead can’t? Like both couples are even dating irl, too…

- JUGHEAD YOU PIECE OF SHIT. He only uses Sweet Pea or Fangs when he has something he doesn’t want to do usually because it’s too dangerous for him (whiny piss baby). DON’T MAKE MY BABY BOY GO UNDERCOVER HE’LL FUCKING GET HURT.

- I’ve literally never hated Jughead more nothing he can do can make up for what he’s done in this episode bye

- What the actual fuck. This is so fucking stupid.

- Archie isn’t dead. If Archie dies before bitch ass Betty or Jiggaloo Jones I will literally come after RAS.

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