#this just took a while and I am not good at it
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foxy-eva · 3 days ago
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Send Nudes
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Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex
Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!
Word count: 3.2k
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Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 
It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 
It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 
Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 
A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 
You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 
“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 
You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 
You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 
Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 
“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 
“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 
“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 
“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 
Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 
A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.
“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 
“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.
Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 
“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 
“I’m not… offended.”
You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 
“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 
Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 
The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 
If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.
The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 
He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 
“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”
“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 
He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 
Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”
“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?
He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”
“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”
That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 
You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 
“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”
His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.
His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 
The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 
It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 
He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 
A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.
Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”
The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 
“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”
A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”
“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 
Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 
Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 
He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 
When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 
Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 
Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 
Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 
It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 
As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”
His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 
“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 
He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 
“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 
“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 
The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.
He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 
You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 
Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 
Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 
“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 
It was everything you wanted right then, too. 
“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 
He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 
Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 
“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 
Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 
You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 
“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 
He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 
There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.
“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 
His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 
With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 
The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 
You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 
“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 
“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 
Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 
With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 
“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 
The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 
“So, you want to fuck me?” 
“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”
With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 
Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 
“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 
Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 
Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 
“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”
One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 
“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 
With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 
For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 
“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 
You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 
“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 
“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”
Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”
“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”
“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”
Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”
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awrkive · 3 days ago
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tlp jk is def the type to absolutely sob when he sees oc walk down the aisle/when he’s trying to propose to her and it maybe just me but I feel like after that one year anniversary he’s like I’m wifing this girl DOWNN cause I feel like he lich has the ring and everyth ready to go he’s waiting he’s prepped 😭
here it is!!! #thee proposal drabble this is literally the cutest thing ever i wish love was real 😖🥹 hope u enj!!!!!!!!!!
summary: in which jungkook proposes and it doesn't start off well
w/c: 3.7k
warning/s: tlp couple is extremely in love that is a warning. they're also cry babies. listen to something by the beatles for the major feels 😔
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“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, matching your pace. “Are we really fighting right now?” 
“No.” Is your stern response, continuing your quick steps without even bothering to look back at him. 
“I guess we are fighting right now.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, taking two big strides so he can finally catch up with you. 
You don’t pay him any attention when he slides his arm around your waist while the other holds the bag of large popcorn you bought a while ago, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Jungkook doesn’t even care about the people passing by around the cinema; they have lives to care about on their own – he can kiss his girlfriend wherever and whenever he wants. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispers in your hair, enough for only you to hear. 
There’s a crease on your forehead that hasn’t ceased ever since you left the restaurant you had your dinner at. But after a few beats, you let out a sigh. 
“I just really wanted to see the movie in IMAX.” you lament, and Jungkook feels bad. He really does. 
“I know, baby, I really am sorry,” he apologizes once again. “We can see it tomorro—” but he realizes you both have a full-time shift, so he opts for, “–next week?” 
“Jungkook, the screening ends in the next two days.” you say, tone bordering on annoyed now. You reel it back in, gently saying, “I just– I told you to hurry up earlier, but you kept on changing your hair even though– you know what, forget about it. Which cinema were we in, again?” 
Jungkook’s nerves begin to kick in, because you look like you’re genuinely upset now. He can tell it by the tone of your voice, the disappointment and the simmering irritation of having to deal with the situation. You don’t get angry often – no scratch that, you don’t get angry at all. However, it does come in withdrawal-like gestures and behavior – like now. 
And again, Jungkook really does feel bad for having to do what he did earlier. You weren’t able to purchase tickets online so you had to make do with buying on the actual booth – and because Jungkook took way too long in the comfort room of the restaurant fixing his hair, you arrived at the cinema way too late and the tickets for the last IMAX screening of the night ran out. It left you with no choice but to go with the regular one instead, and needless to say, you’re not at all that happy about that. 
Well, shit. Jungkook thinks. This date is not going well at all. The waitress at the restaurant you ate at a while ago openly flirted with him on your table and he was too stunned to do something that you had to tell her off by yourself. That had obviously taken a hit on your mood, and the cinema thing just kind of maybe amplified it and Jungkook thinks he’s beginning to get fucked.
“I’ll make up it up to you, baby–” 
“The tickets, Jungkook.” 
Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line and gives them to you.
You walk alongside each other quietly, but Jungkook doesn’t let go of your waist while you head towards the dark and quiet hallway, leading to the seats. You don’t pry his hand off so maybe – maybe – that’s a good thing. 
But god, this night isn’t going well like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he’s nervous again. More nervous that he was in the shower awhile ago when you were still prepping for the date back at home. He’s anxious about fucking the whole thing up, and sure, he could trust his track record of never fucking up when it comes to doing big things in his life, but this is different. This will be different. And he’s just so fucking scared that he checks on his watch again. 
8:22pm. 
Eight minutes before the movie starts in your cinema. And eight minutes more before the–
“Jungkook,” You call him, and he’s just in the middle of pushing the seat down for you when you do so. He looks at you. Confused, you ask, “Do you have somewhere to go?” 
“Huh?”
“You keep on looking at your watch. You have been since we were at the restaurant.” 
Jungkook’s eyes widen and he’s thankful there’s barely any lights in the hall.
“I– no. No.” He shakes his head, placing down the bag of popcorn in the middle and takes your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. “I’m sorry, did I keep doing that?” He asks consciously.
He’s really fucking this up, and you’re noticing it. 
“Yes, it’s bothering me a little,” You shuffle in your seat a little, facing Jungkook. Softly, you ask, “Do you wanna go home? We can ditch the movie. I’m sorry for being a dickhead the whole night. It’s not an excuse but I really wanted to watch this movie in IMAX… but it’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I’m just in a… mood. And I know I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry. I’m being so unappreciative over here – I know you were supposed to work on your research–”
“Hey,” Jungkook stops you before you can even finish that. “No, baby. This is our date. I don’t wanna go home yet and I’m genuinely really sorry for missing the IMAX screening.” He’d add he didn’t mean to take long in the comfort room earlier… but that would be a lie. He intended to do that so you can both arrive here on time like planned. 
You purse your lips into a thin line. “Still… I’m sorry for being a little bitch.” 
“Not true. You’re an angel.” Jungkook says and brings your interlocked hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Love you.” 
You frown. “Love you too.” 
That earns you a hearty chuckle from him. “I love you more.” 
“Not that again.” You sigh, turning sideways to look ahead on the screen but not breaking away from his hold. 
Jungkook contains his smile as his gaze falls to the big screen as well, nerves crumbling down a little at the exchange. You’re the only person who can make him nervous but the only one who can take it away at the same time. 
“Huh,” you utter suddenly in the middle of some trailer playing. “It’s so weird there’s only a few people here.”
At that, Jungkook’s heart rate picks up a bit. “Y-yeah? Well, it’s late at night.” 
“Fair.” 
“And this movie’s not really new, right? Just an anniversary screening thing.” Jungkook continues to add, as if determined to justify your claim. 
You nod. “I guess you’re right.” 
“Yep.” 
His phone lights up and you’re busy sipping on your drink so Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to check the messages he received.
tae [8:28pm]: starting in 2
tae [8:28pm]: good luck buddy
Jungkook swipes his tongue over his lips – a nervous habit – quickly turning it off and pocketing the device. He places his arm on the arm rest and taps his fingers on the plastic surface anxiously. 
It feels like there’s a ticking clock above his head when the trailer finally ends, because he knows the thing should start rolling. 
And Jungkook swears he’s prepared for this for so many weeks. Months for the matter. It’s now May and the ring has been bought since February. What was once tucked away from the depths of his closet is now snugged in the pockets of his trouser, deep enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the bulging outline of the box.
Jungkook originally planned for you both to be out of the country when he does it. But things got really hectic at the hospital and while he personally could’ve still taken a leave, you couldn’t. Jungkook brought up the idea of vacationing a little, “Just for a week,”, he said, but then you sadly told him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to and he understood that greatly. He’s in the same line of work, after all. 
So, with what seemed to be the nth deliberation with Doyeon, Taehyung, and Nayeon, he ultimately decided on this set-up. You know; trick you into going to the mall with him so you can pass by the cinema and he successfully executes the proposal seamlessly. But obviously, it didn’t go as smoothly as that.
After your dinner, you impulsively decided that you wanted to watch a movie in IMAX, but it starts at exactly as Jungkook’s proposal, and so he had to compromise a little bit; the admittedly poor (but effective) solution coming in the form of intentionally staying a little longer in the comfort room of the restaurant just so you two would be lat. 
And Jungkook swears it’s for a good reason! Because everything’s prepped and ready to roll and he can’t have himself waste another perfect opportunity. He remembers almost popping the question three months ago, two months ago, month ago, few weeks ago and heck, even last night – but he’d always get cold feet and think the time wasn’t right. 
Right now, though, is different. 
And he wants it so badly to be different.
Good thing you settled things quickly. Now that his being late is past you, he can be a little more confident in what he’s about to do. 
The next trailer shows up and Jungkook sits upright, knowing what’s coming. He has it memorized, down to each frame. He was the one who edited it, after all, a product of his humble multimedia skills, that is. Jungkook could’ve gone to a professional but he really wanted to do it himself, scared they wouldn’t be able to tell you what he wanted to. And so he did. The gang also told him that it would be better if he did it himself.
And now he’s showing it to you – you, who’s completely clueless beside him. 
It starts as a bit of a misdirect. There’s an intro from a famous movie studio, and a scene from a real movie – and so of course you don’t suspect anything, as Jungkook could say from his peripheral view.
Suddenly, the screen goes black. It causes a pregnant pause, stretched to exactly five seconds (again, Jungkook edited that), and then, a familiar clip suddenly plays. 
It’s a video of you taken from Jungkook’s camcorder back in med school. First year, around the second semester. You were at Moon’s Printing Shop and you were looking down at your notes when Jungkook, behind the camera, called your name. 
You looked up, hair messy from an all-nighter study but Jungkook’s certain the Jungkook behind the scene was still thinking you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen just like he’s thinking now. 
“Who would you wanna be if you were given the chance to be somebody else in your next life?” 
You grimace. “Hopefully, still me.” 
“So boring,” Jungkook exaggerated, his laughter reverberating in the hall of the theater. “Be serious.” 
You looked flustered in the video. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna be somebody else.” 
In his seat, Jungkook feels the real you sitting beside him tugging at your enclosed hands together, so he looks at you. 
“Jungkook, what is this?” You say, evidently unaware of what’s currently happening, your brows furrowed in that cute confusion. 
“Just something I’ve been working on for the past three months.” he smiles, bringing your hands together to his lips again. He just couldn’t stop kissing and touching you even if he tries.
You stare at him with your mouth agape, but you don’t say anything else, your gaze falling back to the screen once again. 
“Okay, since you don’t wanna play this game I wanna be Darth Vader.” Jungkook said in the video. 
“What? The evil guy from Star Wars?” You frowned. “That’s not… hmm… okay. I guess I wanna be… Spongebob, then.” 
“Oh. Wow. Interesting. Alright, Darth Vader’s out. I wanna be Patrick instead.” 
“I like that. So we’ll still be bestfriends, right?” 
“Yeah. And I still get to stress you out even in the next life.” 
That made you laugh, the warm burst of laughter filling the hall which makes Jungkook’s lips curl up as he watches the screen. He can never get tired of it; your smile, your laugh, your face as it lights up. There’s something so incredibly angelic about you he sometimes thinks you’re not human at all. Or maybe just part-human… nonetheless, he feels grateful. For literally everything. 
Something in the way she moves…
The video transitions to another reel of you taken by Jungkook while The Beatles’ Something plays in the background. 
"Oh my god..." Jungkook hears you gasp beside him, but he doesn't allow himself to break just yet. Instead, he tightens his grip on your hand, feeling your response as you hold on just as firmly.
The screen continues to show candid moments of you from med school. All recorded and taken by Jungkook; the trips you took during that time, that rave party you went to where you got extremely drunk – and when that showed up, you giggled beside him and said, “I told you to delete that.”, which he just laughed at. 
Later on, the clips got more recent, you in your lilac dress and Jungkook’s white tux… it was a video of you dancing in Nayeon’s wedding. 
“W-wha–… I didn’t – who took that?” You whisper, sounding in awe. 
“Nayeon was apparently recording from the stage at that time.” Jungkook says, looking at you and smiling when he sees that you have your eyes glued to the screen. 
“This is so…” you trail off, but you don’t really say anything in continuation. 
Recent videos of you play, capturing moments from the two years you’ve been together. There’s that clip in Vienna, a few in Florence, Paris, Melbourne... It’s surreal to think that he captured those memories, never imagining they’d be used for something like this. 
Something in the way she knows
And all I have to do is think of her
Something in the things she shows me
I don't want to leave her now
You know I believe and how
The song fades to an end and so did the compilation of your videos. The screen shows Jungkook this time instead. He leaned towards the camera, checked the optics, and then smiled a little. From the background, you know it was taken by the wall of his room, near the window because you can see the Sanrio plushie you put on the table beside there. It’s a little out of frame but you can still recognize it. 
Then, he spoke. 
“Uhm, hi,” He started, and you hold your breath, feeling like you’re on the edge of your seat but not in that anxious way. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m thinking of doing this video… for my proposal – and ah, my proposal – wait, I really should’ve written a script for this but I wanted this to be natural as much as possible and I’m going off-track so we’ll move on to what I really wanna say,” 
You can’t help but laugh at that, and you hear Jungkook joining in with you. 
“__, you’re the love of my life. You’re my lover, but you’re my best friend most of all. I look back on the times we’ve spent together – a decade. There was no time in those years that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for knowing and meeting you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I really hope you know how much I love you because no matter how hard I try to put it into action and words, no amount of it would tell you how I truly feel.” A pause. Then he took out something from his pocket. Raising his hand, a red velvet box appeared in the frame. He was about to open it when suddenly, your voice is heard behind the camera. 
“Jungkook?” 
Jungkook quickly pocketed the box, and the camera shook a little, the angle now distorted, probably due to his panic upon hearing your voice. 
“Yes, baby?” The audio played. 
“You were doing something?” 
“Nah. Just trying out my new camera.” Jungkook said. 
“Oh. Lemme see.” 
The camera got picked up, and Jungkook switched the camera to you.
In your seat, you nibble on your bottom lip upon seeing your own face this time, a poor attempt to stop your jaw from breaking apart because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling watching the whole thing. 
“Pretty girl.” You hear Jungkook say behind the recorder. His hand came up to caress your face in the video, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I love you.” 
You looked confused at first but then you told him, anyway, “I love you too.” 
You leaned down, and the video gets switched out to another one of Jungkook on a different day. 
“Sorry the video got interrupted by my gorgeous girlfriend.”
You both laugh at that, and as if on cue, your eyes meet – silently acknowledging that you’re thinking the same thing. In that shared glance, it's clear you both understand how things escalated in that moment, that night – how that kiss turned into something more.
“I just wanted to say that, uh, I love her. No, you, I’m talking to you–” He sighed in the clip, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway. I love you. I love you so much, baby. More than anything else in the world. I feel like I don’t say it enough although Taehyung teases me about convulsing if I can’t say it to you for no longer than five minutes – he’s probably right but that’s not the point. What I wanna say is – again – is that, I love you, __. And I want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. I wanna grow old with you. Spend every day and every night with you. I want us to wake up together every morning, make our breakfast together, go to work together, do laundry together, our taxes – man, I don’t know. Anything. I just want to do anything and everything with you. Maybe adopt a dog in the near future, if you want to, that is. You’re probably gonna be watching this in the theater by this moment – god I hope I don’t fuck the whole thing up, the gang is gonna be so pissed – but I’ll drop the question for you and I know we already talked about it many times before and two months ago you said you were ready if I was also ready. I couldn’t tell you I’ve been ready since the first week we started dating. But I hope… what you felt two months ago is still what you feel right now…” 
Then, the big screen fades to black, and suddenly, a few lights in the hall flicker on, illuminating Jungkook—now on his knees. In his hand is a red velvet box, now open, revealing a stunning ring that’s so beautiful it leaves your jaw slack.
He clears his throat. “__, you’re my best friend. Have been and always will be. You’re my home, my partner. I will love you for as long as you let me and–” Jungkook doesn’t mean it but there’s suddenly a lump in his throat that forms along the way and he has to choke it back, making his voice crack a little bit as he looks into your eyes. “– and I really want to live all my remaining years with you and be yours forever.” He bites his lip, looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so much. Then, the question comes, “Can I be your husband?” 
“Jungkook…” You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words. You’ve passed the point of holding back tears, and when your eyes meet his—so full of sincerity and revere—you completely break. “Y-yes. Yes! One hundred percent yes,” you manage to say through your sobs, nodding fervently as your vision blurs from the tears streaming down your face.
As soon as you say that, all the lights in the room turn on and there’s a holler from the direction of the projection room that you can’t help but look at. 
“Congrats!” 
You gasp as you see Doyeon and Nayeon. They’re both waving at you with huge grins on their faces. Genuinely surprised and confused at the same time, you start to look around, and suddenly, you realize that everybody is literally… your family. Taehyung, your dad, your mom, your sister and Seokjin all occupy the front rows, and in front of them are Jungkook’s own family as well. From afar, you see Jungkook’s father coming up to give your dad a hug which he reciprocates as they laugh together. 
Your eyes are drawn back to Jungkook. 
“Jungkook… they’re all here,” you say, struggling to hold back the onslaught of tears. They won’t stop.
And at this point, Jungkook can’t help it. Not anymore. He sees you crying and he can’t help but do it as well. He sniffs, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.
“Yes, baby. Everybody is here.”
“Baby, why are you crying?” You ask him despite yourself.
Jungkook chuckles in between his tears, swiping a hand on his eyes. “I’m just so happy. You make me so happy. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes.”
That makes you cry even more, earning another laugh from Jungkook but it’s filled with endearment. Slowly, he takes your hand and you watch teary-eyed as he finally inserts the ring around your ring finger. 
The diamond-encrusted band, with a larger diamond glimmering in the center, fits perfectly around your finger. You stare at it in awe, admiring how gorgeous it looks—trying to recall a time when Jungkook measured your finger to make it fit so flawlessly. But you can't remember, and you don't mind at all, instead looking up at him as he stands to his feet.
"I love you, Jungkook. I really do," you say with all the sincerity in your heart, hoping he knows as much.
"I can't wait to marry you," he replies, his voice full of emotion before he pulls you into his arms and leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. It’s soft and it’s sweet just like the love he’s given you all these years.
A cheer erupts around you, and normally, you'd feel shy about kissing in front of your family. But this time, you don’t feel embarrassed at all.
It’s just you and Jungkook. Bound for a lifetime of unadulterated love.
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sillyuin · 1 day ago
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hi <3! was wondering if i can get svt reaction to yn being completely oblivious to them flirting with her? subtle things like while she’s just ranting about her day they’d move closer to her and she’d absentmindedly put her hand on their chest to push them away still running her mouth, just completely unaware of what’s happening. and even the most obvious things like compliments or physical touch, yn is blind to it and it’s so frustrating to them
so yeah, hope you see this! ❤️
Hi! I'm sorry for being so late 😭 i've been very busy with job and housework, but it's finally here.
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Svt reacts: Flirting vs clueless s/o. Who will win?
Yuin's note: barely proofread. I'ts 1 am and I'm tired.
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Seungcheol. Staring at your face.
I mean, he likes to just stare at you as if he's watching the prettiest person in the world, but when Seungcheol wants to be especially flirty, he stares at you fondly and smiling with the whole intention to make your heart skip a beat, he even glances at your lips, as if he were trying to say something. Most of the time that's enough to make you really, really shy but when is not... Geez, he has to breathe in and ends up pouting a little (Probably one or two pecks will make him feel better).
Jeonghan. Teasing.
Is like his default love language, making harmless jokes to see you flustered all over him is just so fun to watch. But, is he really just trying to be a teaser, or is there something else behind? "I took the chair, but you can sit on my lap" he said one day, sitting at your desktop, with the most mischievous smile possible. But you didn't fall for his charm and as you kept your annoyed face, he stood up and sighed "Okay, all yours". And you better be ready because he's not forgetting so easy, and will keep teasing you just a little (yeah, a little) more than usual.
Joshua. Back hugging.
When Joshua wants your attention only and only for him, he goes where you are to hug you from the back, resting his chin on your shoulders and crossing his arms around your waist. Oh, he loves it so much is so tender, but he gets lowkey hurt when you don't react in any way because, how come you don't realize his intentions? Is really doing the dishes way more important than his warm hugs? Now, this is personal and Joshua won’t let you go, take it as a punishment for being so clueless (reward or punishment?).
Jun. Tickles.
For him, tickles is the perfect excuse to be closer to you. It's so obvious that hurts lol. Most of the time you melt in his touch, and you both end up laughing and sharing some kisses, but sometimes you're minding your business, too busy to realize that Jun wants to get your attention. Better get ready because you'll have a pouty little cat going around the apartment, and will NOT forget your offense unless you give him extra cuddles before bed.
Hoshi. Random "facts".
At the least appropriate time, he would come to find you. "Did you know that there is a minimum number of kisses that a person should receive per day to be healthy?" he says with a very serious expression on his face. And there you are, standing in the middle of the living room while you're brushing your teeth; your soulless expression says all. Hoshi turns around and pretends nothing happened, but in his mind, he's sitting in the corner staring at the walls.
Wonwoo. Making compliments out of nowhere.
He likes to pour you with sweet words, like how much he appreciates your homemade food, or that you did it great at work. From time to time, he thinks is fun to be a little sassy and his praises are very, very intentional. “New gloss?” he says, grinning at you “It looks good” and for some frigging reason you just start talking about how you got it? Babe, Wonu doesn’t care that much that you bought it because your favorite gloss wasn’t on stock, but now he feels a little shy to speak and just lets you tell the whole story.
Woozi. Playing with your hair.
When it comes to be openly flirty, Woozi tends to be a little coy. You rarely notice it since it's very common for him to be around you, caressing your hair and playing with the strands in complete silence. So when you get distracted he places a strand behind your ear, exposing your neck. But when he's so close to place a kiss, you jump like a scared kitten. "No! It tickles!" Woozi looks down, defeated, as you move away. "Sorry, be right back" and he locks himself in his room for the next hour.
Minghao. Holding your hand.
He thinks your hands are more than just pretty. Hao likes to take one of them when you're sitting by his side, scrolling on your phone or watching TV. He's so subtle that most of the times you don't feel how he traces your hand with his fingers and when you realize, it’s because your hands are intertwined and he’s holding his laughter. “How low you’ve been like this?” but Minghao just giggles. You end up doing the same and then resume your activity, letting him laughing low in embarrassment and biting his lips as a sign of frustration.
Mingyu. Resting on your lap.
He's very straightforward when it comes to flirting with you. Mingyu likes to wait patiently for you to sit on the couch or the bed and then he goes, at first making some (pretty obvious) questions "What are you doing?" "Is that a new book?" and as you're talking, his hands rest on your thigh, gently stroking your skin with his thumb, but you're so immerse in the topic and he goes completely unnoticed... And before you even notice, there's a flustered Mingyu resting his head on your lap, tracing small circles on your thigh as if he had been punished.
Dokyeom. Taking photos.
He already has a folder with your name and an unhealthy number of photos; Seokmin just never gets tired, you're so used to it that most of the time don't realize that he's actually trying to hit on you. "Just let me take a picture, you look so beautiful today!" And after giving him an awkward smile, you're getting back to your stuff.  Seokmin is a bit disappointed but with a bunch of new photos of his precious person, so is not that bad (at least is what he says to himself trying to not lose his mind).
Seungkwan. Scolding.
I know, it may sound like a bit harsh but when he's scolding you, Seungkwan tries to make it as tender as possible, it doesn't feel like scolding and actually, he uses this as a cheap excuse to be extra lovely. "Don't sleep too late, you're getting dark circles" he says in a soft voice while caressing your checks "you're too pretty for that, don't you think?". He waits for you to take the bait and when you laugh on him, saying that he's being a little dramatic, Seungkwan doesn't hide his disappointment. "Okay, keep watching your series" he says getting up from the couch "but don't you dare to complain later!"
Vernon. Placing his arm on your shoulders.
A classic that never dies and his favorite, Vernon likes to do it all the time: when watching movies, chatting, watching videos together; is a like a very subtle invitation to get closer to him, and somehow, most of the time you’re just minding your business and leave him waiting for you to notice. And yeah, he’s very patient, but everything has a limit. "Come here, babe" then he places his hand on your shoulder and brings you closer to his chest. And don't you dare to move, because there's no way he let you go now.
Dino. Calling your name.
Usually, he calls you by pet names or your name in diminutive, reserving the use of your name for special occasions. However, it doesn't always end the way he expected. “Did I do something wrong?” you ask him just after he called you by your name, and when Chan sees your big doe eyes, his smile fades. “Is just that… I feel like you’re mad at me”. At this point his intentions doesn’t matter anymore, he just hugs you and tries not cry in his disappointment.
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imorynn · 1 day ago
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—-> GOOD GIRL ( a. o’connor)
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➺ pairings : agnes o’connor • fem!reader
➺ genre / maintains : drabble, SMUT ( MDNI, 18+ ), masterbution, phone sex, somewhat daddy kink ( though it’s mocking ? Am I projecting ? I don’t fucking know. ) dirty talk, slight degradation, praise, nicknames ( sweetheart, slut, bunny, sweetheart, I am fucking feral—) mentions of strap usage ( Agnes’ part —)
➺ word count : 800+
➺ dividers by : @cafekitsune !!
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“You pretty little troublemaker, just start touching that little pussy for me, hmm? Let me hear you…”
You were desirous in your bedroom at the sound of her velvet, taunting voice over the phone, it made the growing dampness in your panties almost unbearable. She was aware of where you were, and what you were anticipating. She was more than aware of how much you were waiting for it, yearning and heaving almost every late night as she departed from the police station house to demonstrate to you in unmediated experience what it was like to be mercilessly fucked until you collapsed.
Were you satisfied with who you had become? You, the sheltered-life, silent and bright-eyed succeeding young gal that you were within Westview? Is this what you had foreseen when you studied an eminent career in university and succeeded in graduating to pursue that very interest? Of course not. Though, the hours were long, and the days — while significant — they were crucial at the moment, and if your dating experience during these dull years has taught you anything, it was that dating those your age came with no fulfillment due to their lack of maturity and ability in making you feel safe, and desired. So, you took liking in an older audience — particularly Agnes O’Connor who was frankly not necessarily anywhere close to being stable and was constantly wavered with this peculiar aura you had yet to thoroughly discover, it seemed you relished in being fucked by a five-foot tall ( including five inches if you were to be specific) blue-eyed brunette who was around the age of 51 (or so it seemed) with a maturity and rogue confidence, sarcastic with no decency of your privacy, who knew precisely how to liquify your limbs and render your brain useless with the wet muscle of her tongue, and her smirking mouth, and her calloused fingers, and the sight, taste of her pussy, her str—
“Come on, sweetheart. I know you’re waiting for me, wearing nothing other than one of my flannels you love so much and those ribboned panties you know I like…” A deep inhale was heard from the other line — an expression you could already visualize the moment you heard the faint graze of fabric coming undone; pretty features shadowed by the dim light cast in that unkempt office of hers, jawline tight, pink lower lip tucked between her teeth with a quirk between her brows, pupils practically absorbing the blue hue of her eyes as they became wider, hazed. “Betcha’ there’s a wet spot in them from how needy you are to be fucked over and over until you cry on my fingers. Things are running a little slow for me down here, so you’ll have to get yourself nice and ready for me, how’s that sound, hon?”
The fingers of your right hand danced slowly down to where you needed them most while the other undid the remaining buttons of her flannel. When those spit-soaked lips of yours separated, one name laced with a title resided on your tongue, and it clamored from the pit of your heaving lungs the second shaking digits dragged between your slippery folds from entrance to sensitive clit. “Yes, detective Agnes…”
A subtle smirk laced her tone as she spoke, her satisfaction with the outcome unmistakable. “Good girl.”
In a fraction of a second, the sensation scorched and twisted and ached — you fervently welcomed it, and allowed it to increase. Whimpers and moans crawled your your throat and into the phone’s speaker while continuing your ministrations, attempting to recollect her every action and favor, because fuck, does she know how to work every bit of you with the same raw scrutiny she carried for her job.
“Goodness, bun, you’re gonna make me come with those dirty pretty sounds. Such a fucking slut, aren’t you? Two fingers, slooowly in and out … in and out before rubbing your clit, just like I do it.”
You sharply gasped, digits slowing down their erratic pumps, faint squelching sounds reaching your ears and you felt your own arousal oozing down the curve of your ass, soaking the pattern fabric clinging to you and into the mattress below. Your overbearing impatience clashed with her orders ; the faster you would cum, the faster she would come, the faster you get to experience the blaze of stars and feel yourself getting split open and filled to the brim. It was obscene, ferocious, nearly maddening how desperately you needed her, the extent to which you would go to continue experiencing the way she was making you feel every single damn night. It was filthy and boisterous as you continued fucking yourself with your delicate fingers, never as good as how she did it, yet sufficient enough to set the mood for what you anticipate will be a sprawling, enduring play.
Wet thrusts brought your orgasm closer, taking you higher each time you brushed your special spot.“You’re wet for me, aren’t you? Waiting for me to fuck you dumb with my strap? Waiting for daddy’s cock, huh?”
The deriding, no less titillating, octave in her tone — the nickname — made a searing heat crawl up your throats and spread across your already flushed cheeks. The visual of her mouth twisted into a grin with her hips snapping to meet yours was the last thing you saw before the stars and sparkles appeared behind your lids. The orgasm, fulfilling and ardent, was enhanced by the cruelty of her words and the promise of what was yet to come. 
“Stay where you are, pretty bunny. Daddy’s on her way.”
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kaelidascope · 20 hours ago
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On one hand, I'm relieved to see that it isn't just me suffering in the engagement department whereas I used to get flooded with comments and the like every time I dropped something. It isn't the only reason why I've moved from fanfic work to original work, but it is part of it. The last round of engagement on the latest MM chapter was abysmal, and while I know it's not a reflection of my quality in writing, I kept beating myself up over the possibility that I took too long to update it and people gave up on it/forgot/fell out of love with my work because I as a creator was not performing good enough. It drove me into a bit of a depression for a while.
On the other hand, this is making me rethink my stance on never telling my favorite authors how much they have inspired me to take off with my writing career. This is going to get a little lengthy but I want to talk about it so bear with me here.
Closed circles know how much of an insane, unhinged fan I am of certain writers, yet I have never actually said a word to them. I think I left one comment on maybe two fics that went unanswered (which is fine. They're not active in the fandoms I'm in anymore and I'm just some guy out of probably hundreds all saying the same thing. They're not gonna reply to me) but apart from that, you wouldn't catch me dead actually admitting how much the works mean to me. But why?
I guess I was far too proud and too terrified of being let down if I exposed myself like that. Despite the fact that these authors were literal catalysts for borderline impossible feats I have done within the last year, WELL RECEIVED FEATS at that, I swore I'd never tell anyone how inspiring they were for me. (Unless a casual friendship has been established. I have had the tremendous honor to able to talk to some of my inspirations one on one but under incredibly lucky circumstances)
I had a scenario in my head that these were the cool kids, and if you ever got picked on at all for admiring anything, you know damn well you never tell the cool kids about your admiration. I was afraid that they'd take one look at the work that was inspired by theirs and laugh at it in their enclosed circles. I wasn't going to risk having my confidence crushed and lose the motivation to continue working on my projects by being a fan.
I know not all authors do this. Every time someone comes to me and tells me I've inspired them to be a better writer, I literally frame it in a collection of screenshots I have saved on a hard drive. Every. Single. Time. And I know anyone else would tell me that if the person I admire would actually be cruel enough to mock an up and coming writer, then they're not worth admiring. Which I agree with! But try telling that to sensitive little Kaeli that safeguards their interests with the fiery defensiveness of a feral bear on cocaine.
But then I see posts like this, and I put myself in their shoes. I don't know them. They could be a jackass but they could also be like me - someone who bases a lot of motivation for project completion based off of whether or not people even care to see it completed.
This is all a very long, round about away to say that who cares if the author you build a mini-shrine for in your brain thinks your cringe for liking their work? Odds are they probably need to hear that you liked it so much, it inspired you to do something with that feeling. We all need to hear it. They inspired you and now you're making something that will inspire someone else. To be a creator is to share that passion everywhere you go. There's nothing cringe about it.
A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
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hitomisuzuya · 3 days ago
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Hey hey Suzuuuu
I hope you can see this request..
It’s a nsfw
I would like to request Wanderer x shy fem reader at Sumeru Akademiya, a new student came in and its reader who is shy to introduce herself. And the teacher told the new student to sit next to Wanderer and Wanderer finds it annoying when he preferred to be alone.
At some time, Wanderer becomes like a bully when he likes to tease and make fun of fem reader only to see her reactions, and it makes him like want to corrupt her innocence.
wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut corruption. fingering. bullying. minor degradation.
i want to sincerely thank everyone for letting me take my time and go through requests at my own pace 😭🥺 i feel bad, though.
wanderer only went to class that day because nahida insisted on walking him there. if she hadn't, he would gone right out into the forest to hide and maybe nap in a tree for awhile. a more valuable use of his time, in his opinion, but nahida insisted that the akademiya would be good for him.
he could practically taste your innocence the moment you walked through the lecture hall door. it was pure in a way he hadn't considered still existed. through his sheer annoyance at you being seated next to him (his table was the only empty seat. he could totally see why), he shot you a glare that sent an unexpected shiver up your spine.
"don't think we are going to be friends because you are sitting next to me," he wanted to level with you right here and now. "99% of the time, i won't even be here."
"oh, that's fine," you replied, organizing your books and tucking some hair behind your ear. "i'm not here to make friends. i am here to learn," you pursed your lips, and offered him a soft smile, "my family also has high expectations of me."
"i didn't ask," wanderer replied, crossing his arms and finding a spot to fixate on and stare at for the rest of the class. chances are he knew more things politically than the professor. the asshole who wrote that essay about what he thought happened on tatarasuna sure thought he knew everything.
still though, as much as he hates it, he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye. it was easy for him to tell what kind of girl you are in these moments. you certainly had no issue sitting there, looking pretty while you listened with such foolish intent. you even took notes on the smallest, most useless things.
did you think this knowledge may come in use later?
judging from your explanation earlier, wanderer knew exactly what to capitalize on and take advantage of.
he didn't expect you to have the most interesting reactions when he bullied you.
"it must be so hard for you," wanderer cooed condescendingly, watching you survey the mess he made by knocking all your books out of your hands. "always being a goody goody. doing your homework on time, never missing class," sighing, he kicked one of notebooks out of the way as you reached down to pick it up. "you have be getting crushed under the weight."
"i..i am just so clumsy," you stumbled over your words a little, clearly flustered. wanderer licked his lips. you are just so interesting. he'd just been so mean to you. anyone should've snapped or fought back. but not you. you had the shyest flush on your cheeks. were you enjoying this?
as for you, you are. the more interactions you have with wanderer bullying you, with his enchanting electric eyes and condescending purr to his voice, the wetter you got. it was embarrassing to you. a fact that you had a hard time coming to terms with. at first.
he even used a small gust of anemo to knock your water bottle out of your hand one day, tossing water all over your shirt (it was to see your nipples harden in your bra from cold the water was), but you only looked at him with further adoration.
but his bullying just felt so good. you couldn't possibly tell him that you often fingered yourself until you were a wet, twitching mess at night after classes.
in wanderer's still very twisted mind, corrupting you would be helping you. he didn't even know when he started coming to class everyday, but you were starting to look like you weren't sleeping well. your hands shook while you took tests.
the moment you felt wanderer's hand dip into your panties for the first time, parting your folds and grazing your clit, your hips immediately jerked up to grind on his fingers. fingers that you always thought are so ungodly beautiful it should be considered a crime.
a moan you didn't even mean to let out sounded from you. the more those beautiful fingers stroked your pussy, the more it throbbed and clenched. your eyes widened in an aroused desperation, your hole clenching around the tips of his fingers as he prodded them teasingly at your entrance.
"you poor thing," wanderer cooed, "this is probably the best you have felt ever," he slowly wagged the pads of his fingers on your clit, tearing mewls from you as he just as teasingly pinched your clit. "you are so fucking wet, your cunt will suck my fingers in."
your clit throbbed, feeling shamelessly compelled to rub your soaking pussy on his fingers. "i thought you had to get to class?" he continued. your eyes widened as he started to take his hand out of your panties. "do you know how foolish it is to try and please everyone all the time?"
your hand shot out to grasp his wrist. "no, please. i don't want to go anywhere. i want to stay right here with you," you urged his hand between your legs again. "please," your eyes watered in desperation.
wanderer chuckled. did you have an idea how much of a turn on you are in general? you, the good and innocent girl was begging to skip class and stay with him with your legs spread on his bed. fuck, you deserve to have your pretty pussy stuffed full with his fingers. "who knew you are really such a slut?"
you are breaking so well under the weight of his corruption. you couldn't think about anything other than the need to feel his fingers fucking into you. thoughts you'd never had before about anyone. until wanderer.
"good girl," he tuggedyour panties off, his cock straining from watching the soaked material peel off your pussy. "moan for me while i break you. it's what you want the most, no?" he pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching you apart and hooking them to the knuckle into your sweet spot.
you nodded, jolts of pleasure crackling through you. your eyes nearly rolled closed in pleasure as he started pumping his fingers. they would've had he not put a hand on your jaw. "no, no, kitten. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while i make you cum," he gently squeezed your jaw to remind you of your place.
it is erotic to him how some of your moans even had a tinge of shock in them. you are coming apart so fast, your body only relaxing and submitting to him. he was devouring you, and nothing has ever felt better in your whole life.
the pumps of his fingers grew more aggressive with your consistent moans. he stretched your pussy apart so perfectly, sussing out every sensitive spot between your walls effortlessly. "a third finger, please," you moan, rocking your hips up extra to convey your plea.
wanderer was more than happy to oblige you. he abruptly added a third finger, bullying it against your sweet spot. a near scream of pleasure tore from your throat. "are you feeling good, slut?" his cock pulsed as your walls snapped tighter around his fingers. you obviously enjoy being degraded. "you'll tend to my cock next, yes?"
you struggled to even nod, your cheeks flushed with adoration. "yes! i want to more than anything!" you cried out, stroking his wrist in appreciation as your orgasm curled tighter, your juices frothing and gathering on the insides of your thighs.
"oh? more than going to class or pleasing your family?" wanderer couldn't wait for your inevitable response. a response that would no doubt make him want to impale you on his cock even more. he couldn't break you too fast.
could he?
"yes, yes please! so much more than..than.." your words fell away, the knot of your orgasm building and tightening to an almost overwhelming degree. "anything!" you barely managed to cry out, twitching and writhing as you scrambled to chase the wonderful high unlike any other that he was providing.
wanderer couldn't help but laugh shakily, slowly stroking his cock. you look more beautiful breaking than he imagined. he knew he didn't have to keep his hand on your chin anymore. you couldn't and wouldn't dream of taking your eyes off. not when he'd demanded you to keep looking at him while you cum.
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leahwllmsn · 1 day ago
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yes, and?
leah williamson x reader
word count: 0.7k
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You weren’t having a good Monday morning. Some stranger decided to make it even worse.
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
Despite your loud voice, the blonde didn’t turn around, she kept on walking, eyes glued to her phone. You huffed before you caught up to the blonde and grabbed her shoulder.
That was when you realized a guy in a suit glaring at you the moment your hand touched her.
You gulped, slowly retracting your hand.
The blonde finally turned around, despite the sunglasses covering half her face, you could see the annoyed look plastered on her face clear as day.
“You bumped into my bike and you didn’t even bother to pick it up,” you said, pointing to your bicycle that was on the ground. “Can you not play with your phone while you walk?”
The blonde exhaled loudly before taking off her sunglasses. (You would be lying if you said you didn’t find her ocean blue eyes mesmerizing.)
“What do you want?”
“Oh I don’t know,” you scoffed, waving your hands in the air. “If you bump into something until it falls, the least you could do is put it back in its place.”
For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything, her eyes busy scanning your features. She then took a step forward, a sly smile on her lips. “Do you know who I am?”
“No,” you crossed your arms. “Should I?”
The blonde looked taken aback. “Do you live under a rock?”
You sighed. “What does this have to do with you pushing my bike to the ground?”
“I guess your bicycle was in my way.”
“Unbeliev—” you groaned. “It’s parked against the wall!”
“Okay? I don’t care,” the blonde shrugged. 
You took a deep breath and flashed her a forced smile. Could your day get any worse? First you got fired, then you had to deal with some rude blonde with a gorgeous face and a sexy voice—
“So can I go now?” 
You looked at her. She had a white t-shirt on with a pair of jeans, and despite her height, she still had a pair of high-heels on. If the blonde wasn’t so irritating, you would’ve shamelessly flirted with her.
“Do I at least get an apology?” you asked back, a small part of you didn’t want her to leave so soon.
She looked at you as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.
“What? My bike probably has some scratches now thanks to you.”
The blonde laughed. She laughed. You furrowed your brows, which part of your sentence was funny?
She took another step forward and you gulped. You could smell the expensive perfume she was wearing, and with the smirk that was starting to appear on her lips, you didn’t know how you could be so attracted to someone you just met.
Someone with such a shitty attitude.
“I’ll buy you a new bicycle, if it’ll get you to shut up.”
You were taken aback. “What?”
She motioned for the guy in the suit to come close, whispering in his ear the moment he did so. After a few seconds, she turned back to you and flashed you a smug smile. She put her sunglasses back on and turned around to walk away.
You stood still, mouth agape. Not even a goodbye? Who did she think she was? 
You were about to walk after her when the guy put his hand in front of you, holding out a piece of card. “Miss, this is my contact information. Message me your address and I’ll have the bicycle shipped to you.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“The bicycle,” the guy motioned at your bicycle. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one.”
“Miss Williamson?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Miss Williamson.”
When you took his card and didn’t say anything else, he gave a small bow and left.
You stared at the card in your hand, mouth still agape. You didn’t even ask for a new bicycle, you just wanted the blonde to be a decent human being.
You sighed, putting the card in your pocket. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one,” you mocked. You bent down to pick up your bicycle and you freezed—Miss Williamson… And that face… You felt like you had seen her before. 
You shook it off. Probably someone you served coffee to. 
You got on your bike and started cycling home. Even though the blonde was a bit rude, a part of you wished you bumped into each other again. 
(Not because you wanted to hear her ridiculously sexy voice again.)
(Only because she still owed you an apology.)
(Definitely not because of that accent.)
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littleblueteacup · 3 days ago
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My family and I went on a trip to my aunt’s wedding last month. The area we stayed at that first night had red lighting and was set up to do stargazing and was out on the middle of basically nowhere and, look, I’ve lived in a regional town for most of my life. There is one town within twenty minutes and everything else takes at least and hour to get to. It’s not the most regional, but it’s enough that we can see the stars, and I can pretty easily find the identifiable constellations.
In the city I live in for university, I don’t even have that. We can, on a good day, see maybe three or four stars if we don’t have a power outage, which sucks because I hit an astronomy phase as a kid and hit a mythology phase not long after that.
This town? I stepped outside at night and before we even went to the star gazing presentation that my dad booked (because he is as much of a nerd about this stuff as I am, and my mother and sister are much the same), I could see Everything. There are so many more stars in the sky than I thought there were, and NONE OF THEM look how I thought they would.
Some of them took a telescope to see and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of the image of a cluster that looked like a photo-negative of a rose, and I wouldn’t want to either.
The point is, even while we were doing that presentation and being blown away by exactly how tiny we are compared to the universe at large (something that was only possible to experience BECAUSE the area was set up with red lights and timers, by the way) we had bats flying through, and the chances of other animals just chilling was non-zero. This was not a hindrance to us. The bats were eating, there was minimal cross-over between our group and any animals. It was just that we were there, and so were they.
So look, even if you are not personally the biggest fan of the winged marsupial (or any other animals that could and would benefit from red lighting), acknowledge that the stars are worth the extra effort it would take to get things set up like this. And maybe look into it for your area, just as a curiosity thing.
perhaps some will disagree, but i think the world got worse when we changed the colour of the night
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carpkoinobori · 2 days ago
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[⟢] cop car — karina x reader
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[𖤐] 1/1 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]
song(s): cop car - mitski | no te pido mas - helenita vargas | de oro - la familia andre | la murga - willie colón | la cuchilla - las hermanas calle
summary: you grew up desperate and made your way to the top, even started working for DAS. but your first assignment shouldn’t have been this— they sent you to die. your body lived, though. you didnt.
pairing: patrón!karina x halcón!reader (also x teniente!giselle)
tags: angst, like horrible angst, toxic and I mean Very Toxic yuri, major character death, implied sexual content, this is DARK, set in 1970-90’s colombia, kind of ambiguous but happy ending? reader is lowk stupid and a bop
wc: 10.9k
cw: karina is horribly manipulative, cartels, guns, selling, making, and use of drugs, use of weapons, murder, bombs, death, etc. this is about the colombian cartel ok shit is fucked.
ex: before there’s any outrage I AM COLOMBIAN. all information is acquired through primary sources (ex: family who literally lived through it). most info will be accurate, but my family specifically lived in medellín, calí, and barranquilla. this is set in bogotá. apologies for any city-based in accuracies.
a/n: this is for you aettudae my #1 ❤️
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1964, Cundinamarca, Colombia Local time: 1:00 A.M. Location: a small town in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia Objective: . . .
You were born on the outskirts of the city. Bogotá, the capital— the inside was rich, used to be filled with tourists, big buildings and fancy cars. The outside was él pueblo, where you’d wake up at three in the morning, walk to the nearest bus stop, which was probably a few kilometers away, take the buses that never ran on time with the rest of the exhausted men and women heading to work— work for rich people that ran the city till nightfall, get on another bus, and walk a few kilometers home, every day, constantly, while getting paid barely enough to support your family.
That was if you didn’t get robbed, or blown up in the middle of the city, of course— political unrest stemming from La Violencia had made FARC, and the cartel had begun to ramp up production and organization, planting car bombs under public buses and cars. The country was rife with bombings and gang violence till the late 90’s.
But right now, it was in the very early morning.
You would be born in 1964 to a poor family living in Soacha, Cundinamarca, Colombia, right on the outskirts of Bogotá. Your mother would be killed in 1970. Your father would be killed en la cantina, at night, in 1972.
You had been working since 12, anyway. Being told of your pathetic father’s death by a police officer who clearly did not care was when it was decided— you would not die in this town. You would make a name for yourself.
You were right, of course. You did make a name for yourself— you took down one of the most prominent cartel leaders in the country.
Or, at least, that’s what the media thought.
LA VERDAD DE LO QUE PASÓ EN 1989. —————————————————————— THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED IN 1989.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:00 P.M. Location: Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad | Administrative Department of Security (DAS) HQ Objective: Enter the meeting
You made it into DAS at 21.
Really, it was probably just because the high-rank workers felt bad for you. They understood— a girl from the outer part near Bogotá, no parents— you just wanted to make the country better for people like you.
You were given small jobs like paperwork and editing documents, until now. They were calling you in for your first meeting. Despite your usually serious nature, you couldn’t help a bubble of excitement. You’d finally be able to help like you’d always wanted.
which is why it was confusing why everyone was so somber when you walked in.
“Good morning,” you greeted, taking a seat.
“Good morning, y/n,” replied the woman who headed the ground-team. All your coworkers around her looked solemn, and you stared at them all puzzled.
“Your first assignment will be to infiltrate a specific branch of the Bogotá cartel— we fear they might be working with either FARC or plan to merge with another faction, and they’re already quite dangerous as it is— we don’t need more of them,”
the room was silent. You knew what this was— your first year on the job with barely any training. They were sending you to die, just to get some information.
You sat up straight, squaring your shoulders. You would get the information to help your people. You would live.
“I understand,” you replied, with a nod, standing to collect your file.
The woman handing it to you leaned in, a pained look in her eyes “Perdón,”
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 10:54 P.M. Location: Una cantina Objective: Scout an in to the “organization”
The woman in charge of the specific section of the widespread cartel that was causing so much destruction frequented a specific bar. You had been given her file— she was beautiful, with dark hair and pale skin, but she didn’t seem to be colombian. It didn’t really matter, to you— you weren’t here to ask her why she’d made these choices— you needed to infiltrate one of the largest cartels in Bogotá, on your first job.
you sighed, your head in your hands, the bartender giving you a cursory glance. The place was seedy, filled with alcoholics and sex-workers, as well as probable cartel members, which is why you were here.
You sat up, looking around. It was said Karina frequented this bar. You prayed she’d show up, making the sign of the cross.
God delivered— she walked in, with two other people you didn’t quite recognize— one had dark hair, as well, with big eyes, although her face was serious. The other was lithe, thin— her hair was shorter, and lighter in color, more similar to a brown.
You knew what you’d have to do to start getting information. It made you feel a little sick— a part of you, though, was grateful Karina was so beautiful. Her smile was cocky and smug, like that of someone who knew she was untouchable. She made conversation with her two accompanies, talking and laughing and drinking. You waited for an hour or so, so that she was now most definitely more than tipsy.
you walked over, wearing a short, tight black dress that let you fit the bill of another profession, looking at her through half lidded eyes.
another thing about the cartel. if they wanted a girl, they’d have her. The club was a dangerous place, the bar was a dangerous place— you’d seen a man get shot at a hamburger cart. The cartel was ruining the country.
you pushed down your sudden wave of resentment, focused on flirting with Karina. Her friend, the long haired girl, stared at you for a long time, scrutinizing. You wouldn’t know what that meant, for a while.
Karina grinned, tilting her head. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t see why not,” you smiled, voice practiced to be smooth and flirty. You didn’t drink, usually, but you needed the courage.
She handed you a shot of aguardiente. It was dry and burned your throat, but it was good. You made conversation. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You smiled, putting a hand on her arm. “Seems a bit.. dirty,”
Karina smiled, predatorily, teeth glinting in the low yellowed light. “Just trying to relax. You don’t seem like the type of girl to frequent this place. Why are you here?” She asked back.
“Oh, just.. trying to have a little fun,” you replied, lowly, voice ghosting over her ear. She seemed to like that answer.
“Yeah? Why don’t you come home with me, then?”
Your smile widened, although your eyes with still half lidded, touches fleeting. You still played your part.
“I will,”
you ended up going home with Karina. It took months to get her to trust you, but you had finally managed to get her to let you start working. All it took was a sob-story, a fake name, and she allowed you to work in her jurisdiction.
and so began the first objective: names. You needed names.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 4:33 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
Karina had a home, of course, a large one— you had seen parts of the inside many a time. Of course, they also had some warehouses where they kept goods, where some of the members could crash for a night. You usually stayed with Karina, following her orders.
Some of the members used fake names. You had managed to catch onto one— Ning Yizhou, or NingNing. It was kind of stupid to put part of your real name in your fake name, but plenty of members didn’t use false names at all. You supposed it was just because they didn’t have much to hide.
The name was quietly recorded into your notebook— in code, of course, specifically pigpen-cipher, although you mixed it in with a few different things, referencing dice code as well to make it more confusing— the members of the organization sometimes forgot to call out their chosen names for each other, slipping up. You didn’t mind, though, it made your life easier.
The group had a whole network across Bogotá, planning to move into Medellín, which you felt was not a good idea, but had said nothing.
at one point, Karina brought you all out to eat at a very nice restaurant. You had become a favorite of sorts, for her. She didn’t suspect a thing, thank god.
They began to make small talk, conversations imbued with remarks about the ‘business’, people causing problems, supply and demand, and those annoying Americans.
the waiter came, and everyone quieted.
”Una cerveza, porfa,” Karina was first.
“Dame un refresco, por favor,” Giselle.
You felt something.. off. Obviously, Giselle wasn’t colombian. None of these four women were. But they all learned Spanish here. None of them really spoke Spanish beforehand. Giselle was speaking very.. correctly. Or, at-least, not using slang from colombia. Had she learned Spanish in Mexico? Castellano? Was she part of another gang?
you hadn’t noticed it was your turn to order with all the thoughts running through your mind. You looked at the waiter, glancing at Giselle.
“Si me haces el favor, una gaseosa,”
Giselle didn’t seem fazed by it. but something was off about her. Something was very, very off.
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“Karina,” you called, walking into her office. She seemed to be writing something down. Most likely something about funds or money. She did have people in the banks to clean her money for her, but she didn’t like others running her finances. Too much of a chance for embezzlement. A part of you liked she was smart with her business.
“Winter told me you called for me?” You murmured, leaning against the side of her desk, tilting your head, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Ah, yes,” she affirmed, turning in her chair to you. “I have a job I need you to complete. You’ll be going with Winter,” she informed. “It’s nothing that difficult. You’ll both be going on some runs. It’ll just be delivering a few.. products, to a contact. It’ll be a long drive, maybe a few hours. She’ll come get you at four in the morning, exactly,”
Your face stayed carefully blank, but you plastered a content smile onto it. “Of course, I’m glad to be of any help. Speaking of help, Karina, you seem a little stressed..” you smiled wider, voice imbued with a sultry tone.
Karina was honestly a bit foolish. Smart with money, bad with people. Perfect for you.
She still suspected nothing, you thought, as she kissed you, hungrily.
the night ended with her paperwork left unfinished, and you asleep in her bed.
Winter was probably not going to be happy.
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Winter was waiting outside the room for you, arms crossed and leaning on the wall. You had dressed into something casual— just jeans and a shirt. You glanced over at her with a blank expression. “What do we need to deliver?”
She seemed to be thinking, before pushing off the wall, and beginning to walk. You followed.
“Guerrilla wants some weapons. We’re just there to deliver,” she muttered, cigarette hanging half out of her mouth, unlit. You made your way to the car, getting in the passenger, the supplies in the back. “It’ll be a long drive up the mountain. Let’s try not to get stopped, yeah?” She muttered, starting the ignition.
You drove in silence, for a bit. The humidity of the air was starting to get to you. You hated the heat.
Winter didn’t talk to you, much. You didn’t think she liked you. You were pretty sure it was because she believed you weren’t worthy to be in the gang— you were just Karina’s plaything.
you didn’t really care what she thought, though. You had a job to do.
after a few hours, you had made it sufficiently up the mountain to the trade-off point. You stepped out of the car.
It was still foggy, from the rain and the altitude. You almost felt a bit lightheaded— but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. The plants and mosquitos were certainly bothersome, but you said nothing. Helping Winter lug up all the weapons was definitely hard— you weren’t very strong. Winter stared at you in annoyance, mumbling curses, most likely about you, under her breath.
the trade off was successful, but then, yet again, you had to make your way down the mountain with duffel bags of money. It was heavy. Putting it away in the trunk was simple enough. You collapsed back into the passenger, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You felt gross.
“Why was that so heavy?” You muttered, under your breath. Winter closed the door of the driver’s side.
“It’s not that heavy, you’re just weak,” she spat, annoyed. “You made us take an extra half hour. You’re not efficient,” she continued.
“It’s hardly my fault, Winter! This was my first job, I don’t-”
“I don’t know why Karina thought it’d be a good idea to let you help, you’re absolutely shit at it,” she retorted, acidly. “The only thing you’re good at is being her whore,” she cursed, as a snide closing remark.
You turned to her as she drove. You may be making sacrifices to get information, but Winter had no idea what you were working towards. It was an insult to your pride. Yet, you couldn’t think of a retort.
“I’ll work harder,” you muttered. “I want to be useful,”
she scoffed, but at least you said you’d try. She still didn’t like you, though. “Face it, sweetheart,” she began. “You’re not cut out for this life,”
When you arrived back to the warehouse, Ningning spotted Winter before you. You were taking some of the bags out, but could still here from the inside.
“Kim Minjeong! What took you so long?” She chided.
Winter rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Quiet down, Ning. Karina’s toy isn’t supposed to know our names until she proves herself. And anyway, she’s nearly useless. She’s the reason I took longer,”
you obviously pretended not to hear as you hauled money bags inside.
Two names down. Two to go.
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Giselle and Karina were two harder to find out then the other two. You were sure with enough time, Karina would tell you her real name. She seemed on the verge of it, anyway, with how much she wanted to hear it fall from your lips.
Giselle, though.. you had no contact with her. She was always off, managing distribution or making sure people stayed in line. You never saw her around much.
but slowly, you began to become part of the group. You mostly helped on small runs, with either Winter or Ning. Ning didn’t really care what name you called her, writing it off as semantics that didn’t matter. Winter, of course, took herself very seriously, so you continued to have to address her formally. She was such a pain, but honestly, you didn’t mind much.
what you had to focus on now, most of all, was getting Karina to trust you.
that came in the form of another run. Although this time, it went so, so wrong.
You were meant to drop off a shipment near Medellín. You didn’t think anything would happen, really— the mountains were a bit far out from Bogotá, and it was closer to the border anyway.
You had been given a gun. It was handed to you by Ning a few weeks prior, under the orders of Karina. You knew how to use one, and no one asked why.
the drive there was mostly silent. Winter still wasn’t very warm to you, yet, she didn’t hate you. You had begun to earn your place, and she respected the effort, if anything.
You drove, and the closer you got to the warehouse, the more dread washed into your bones. “Winter,” you called, under your breath. “I think we’re being watched,”
“We’ve been down this route a million times, y/n. We’re fine, no one would-”
a gunshot rang out through the silence.
It missed Winter by a centimeter, hitting the windshield. You cursed the fact these jeeps didn’t have roofs or side-door windows. Minjeong sped up, of course— if she braked they’d fire again. It was all a blur, from there. You got out of the car, your back against the corrugated metal of the drop off point’s doors. You stared around you, pointing at an old building. “There, Winter- it’s a-”
“Snipers,” she finished, eyes wide with panic. “Hijueputa! I fucking knew we should’ve stayed away from Medellín-”
“No fucking time for that, Winter, get down-”
bullets cut through the air. You dragged Winter behind the Jeep’s metal body, looking over it and shooting wherever the bullets rained from.
there was maybe three people, four, even. Winter focused on the right, you focused on the left. You only had a pistol on you, but luckily you had enough rounds. You aimed straight at one man’s head— it was a straight shot, and you saw the blood spew out from his forehead. It was a mess of blood and bits of brain as far as you could see, his body slumping over the sandbags where he was hiding. They turned red, quickly.
You peeked over the jeep, again, about to shoot the second man on the left when—
a sharp pain was felt in your right shoulder. The force of it sent you nearly falling back, but you caught yourself. You looked straight ahead.
the sniper.
You were panicking and filled with adrenaline— you set the gun on the other man, watching him rise slowly, and—
straight into the neck, blood rushed out of the wound, and you heard a disgusting gargling noise. Blood, in some areas, was highly pressurized— it would shoot out like a fountain.
Winter had managed to shoot the sniper, finally, which was a miracle considering the distance. Right now, you didn’t care about the logistics of how, all you knew was that this was a trap. More people were coming. “Winter, we have to go,” you demanded, looking over at her.
She was bleeding from her thigh and side. Fucking hell.
you shoved her into the passenger seat, ignoring the warmth you could feel trickling down your shoulder, the way it hurt to move your arm. You started the car, and drove straight out of there. You drove as fast as you could, making it back in just around two hours and a half. You had tied your jacket around Winter’s leg, and her own around her side, the other girl groaning in pain throughout the ride. “Ya, Winter, cállate!” You spat, stressed and frazzled. “You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be okay-” you continued, clenching your jaw to not scream from the burning in your shoulder.
When you made it back, you stumbled out of the car, glass shards all over the hood, opening the doors. “Ning,” you called, knowing she’d always be near, most likely cleaning some blood after an interrogation or packing some coke. “Ning, it was a trap- help, please, Winter got shot,” you continued, calling out desperately. Ning appeared a few seconds after, eyes wide, rushing to the car. She helped Winter inside, laying her on the couch. She had lost a bit of blood, but the bullet hadn’t hit a major artery. You knew the bullet shouldn’t have hit her heart, either. Ning looked at you, seriously. “Go get Karina. And Giselle,”
you did as told.
you rushed to Karina’s office, the older woman looking at you with a bored expression, gaze lingering on your shoulder.
She didn’t ask any questions, just raised an eyebrow. “It was a trap,” you replied, panting, ignoring your own bleeding shoulder. “Winter.. she needs- she needs a hospital,”
Karina looked unsurprised. “Oh, yes,” she replied, holding your gaze. “How unfortunate of an event,”
Her words were.. slow. Almost mocking or sarcastic— you didn’t have time to decipher what they meant. She brushed past you, making her way to Winter, calmly
“Ning, how bad is it?” She questioned, leaning over the other girl’s body. There was no hint of worry or concern on her face, just curiosity.
“Not fatal, but serious. It didn’t hit the femoral artery, but I suspect it either fracture or grazed her femur. For the side wound, I don’t think it hit anything major, maybe a rib, but no organs. Even so, she needs medical attention now, Karina— speaking of, where is Giselle?” She continued, exasperated and stressed.
“She should be on her way. She was coming back from a job, already. She should be here soon,” was Karina’s nonchalant reply.
you decided that she couldn’t really be waited on, and Karina was clearly unhelpful.
“Do you guys have an operating table? You know what— get me a table. Just get me a table,” you demanded, reaching for some surgical gloves.
They laid Winter on the table, turning on all the lights. You positioned a lamp right over her, and stared at the bullet wounds.
there were only 2. You could do this, you had been taught first aid. This couldn’t be that hard.
You began to clean the wounds with running alcohol and cotton balls, trying to wipe away the blood that wouldn’t stop, and clean the wounds. You had grabbed a pair of tweezers, planning on just yanking out the bullet yourself when Giselle slammed the doors open, staring at the scene in shock.
“What the fuck are you all doing?” She shrieked, rushing over and moving you away. “Do you have any surgical training at all? You could kill her!” She exclaimed.
“Well, you weren’t exactly coming very quickly,” you retorted, now insulted. “I’m sure it’s not that hard to remove a bullet, just take it out-”
“Are you an idiot?” She exclaimed, shocked. “Get out of the way, this is why I’m here. I’ll deal with this,”
she pushed you away, putting on her own pair of blue surgical gloves, and a mask. She moved the lamp to the wound on Winter’s chest, inspecting it. She took hold of the tweezers, cleaning the wound once again with an alcohol wipe— but there was no time for painkillers. She extracted the bullet carefully, holding Winter down so she wouldn’t squirm and hurt herself, followed by her stitching up the wound. It took around twenty minutes for the bullet hole to be stitched up.
she repeated the same process with the second, before cleaning the wounds, again, and beginning to wrap them with gauze. Winter looked pale, and in pain, but she tried to show no sign of it on her face. Once Giselle finished with her, she turned over to you.
“Sit,” she instructed, voice flat and providing no room for judgement.
Karina had shrugged, disappearing back to her office, while Ning had left to go help Winter, leaving you alone with Giselle. She removed your shirt, unclipping your bra with practiced ease, and inspecting the wound. It had started to really hurt, now, the adrenaline having worn off.
“Don’t you have painkillers?” You asked, petulantly.
“No,” she muttered back. “You can handle it. You’re part of a gang, now, there’s going to be pain,” she reminded, harshly.
She cleaned the wound with alcohol, a hiss leaving your mouth at the sting. Your breath hitched when the tweezers made their way into the wound on your shoulder, clenching your jaw in pain. Giselle looked at you, coldly. “Don’t scream,” were her final words before she removed the bullet, cleanly, in one piece.
you gasped in pain, breathing heavily as the wound began to bleed again. Giselle held your other shoulder, keeping you in place as she sewed it shut, cleaning it again, and wrapping it with gauze. “Fuck,” you hissed, wincing at the sting of alcohol.
“Stop squirming,” she growled, and it made you sit still, albeit breathing hard and cursing under your breath. She handed you two pills— painkillers— and a glass of water, after the fact.
“Don’t take baths, you’ll reopen the wound, make sure to shower. Someone will have to help you redress the wound and make sure it doesn’t get infected. Karina isn’t good with wounds, and Ning will handle Winter. I’ll keep an eye on you myself,” she muttered, and it felt more like a threat than anything.
you took the pills, drinking the water to wash them down.
you glanced over to her.
“What are you, a doctor?” You asked, curious albeit a bit sarcastic.
“Yes, technically, I am,” she responded back, flatly. “Worked in el campo for my residency, saw the Guerrilla, saw the way people were living— got into this business, just as it started. That’s all,” she finished, succinctly.
you felt like the story was too practiced. Too simple. You began to suspect that something was off with Giselle— something most definitely was. The way she was never with the rest of the group, her detachment, her strange accent— she was suspicious, and it occurred to you that if you could reveal whatever it was, you’d secure yourself a spot in the gang and officially cement your place, as well as weakening the structure and trust of the organization. It was perfect. This was a great chance, an amazing opportunity. You were sure to take it.
That is, of course, if everything went according to plan.
(It never did)
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You couldn’t shake the feeling that Karina had something to do with this. She seemed so dismissive, so.. unimpressed. What was it? Why was she so cold?
You sat at the edge of Winter’s bed, the other girl listening to your ramblings and theories half-heartedly, dazed. Ning was leaning against the wall, the both of you speaking lowly, so as to not be heard.
“She was testing you,” Ningning informed, after mulling on it for a bit.
“What?” You blinked, the words like a shock to your system. “She sent one of her men— along with the newest recruit— into a trap, with only two pistols against a sniper and three other men, all to test.. no, why would she do that? She wouldn’t endanger her own members,” you dismissed, shaking your head.
“She would,” Ning informed, flatly. “Karina’s our boss, yes, we respect her. But she didn’t get to where she is by playing nice,” she reminded. “Karina will do whatever she has to do to ensure her business, first and foremost. That is what is the most important to her. Plus, the government has been far too close to us, lately,” Ning scoffed, shaking her head with her arms crossed. “She’s probably become more careful— which isn’t good if you’re new. You’re probably in for it,” The dark haired girl guessed, meeting your gaze. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we got dragged into it, too. We’re disposable. Just pawns in this game,” she continued, pushing off the wall and reaching the door, hand resting on the handle. “But I hope you make it out,” she added. “You’ve been helpful,” was her final compliment, before she exited.
You stared at your hands. You had thought— genuinely— that Karina was kind, maybe misunderstood. You really thought you were smarter than her.
you now realized that Karina was extremely intelligent. She didn’t care what sacrifices had to be made— she’d protect what was hers, what she’d built. Worst of all, she might even know you were an informant already, she might just be playing with you.
you had walked right into the lion’s den, without even knowing. All the while, you thought you were one step ahead, that you were in control.
your head fell to your hands, a choked sob leaving your body.
you were going to die here.
Every single one of you was going to die here.
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1985, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 6:25 P.M. Location: currently, a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
it had been a week since the incident. Winter had given you her real name— Kim Minjeong. Why? She said you had earned it, after saving her life.
Things had been tense, to say the least. Ning was considerably angry with Karina, which the older girl did not like. Giselle had been speaking to Karina more often, yet, she was also out the same amount of time.
Minjeong had told you that there had been talk of working more closely with the guerrilla, and that information worried you. The guerrilla was already enough trouble on its own— with the resources from the cartel, it’d be a horrible force for the government.
It was early November, already, and Giselle had seemed beyond tense, pacing whenever you caught a glimpse of her in her room, always thinking to herself, it seemed.
she was changing your bandages, now, a distant look on her face. The movements were practiced, almost like she was working on autopilot.
“Hey,” you called. “Giselle,”
“What?” She responded, flatly. “What is it?”
“Why do you seem so mad lately?” Was your question. She kept a blank, annoyed look on her face. She continued to clean your wound, but eventually responded. “Nothing. Just some negotiations that have been going in circles for days, now. Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed, stepping back once she had finished, moving to get some gauze.
“Really?” You hummed. “Anything to do with the guerrilla?”
Giselle stared, clenching her jaw. She began to bandage you, but spoke lowly. “Don’t talk about them. You have no idea what they’re like. You shouldn’t know any of this, anyway. I’m sure Karina wouldn’t like that,” she added, dangerously.
After the events that transpired on your last run, you had grown wary of Karina. You tried not to make it obvious, but everyone could tell, and the girl delighted in it. She loved the power and control, of course. Her smile was unsettling.
you quieted, after that comment. Giselle finished bandaging you, stepping away. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” she advised, but took a second to add something on. “Don’t worry too much. I don’t think she’ll kill you,” Giselle paused, a smile blooming on her face, “Yet,” she added, walking out.
Not very comforting in the slightest, but you should figure out what you could while you were here. You sighed, laying back on the bed.
Giselle was definitely lying about something— you just needed to find out what.
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The guerrilla had led a siege on el Palacio de Justicia. It lasted two days, with many deaths. You saw the current news on it, even contacted your people in DAS about it— they had strictly warned you not to unless information was found, but those were your people. They could’ve died.
Giselle watched the news over your shoulder, or listened to it while she fixed your bandages. Minjeong had been getting better, too, her leg much better. Ning watched as well, her arms crossed.
Karina didn’t comment on it. Almost like she knew it would happen.
a suspicious amount of money was given to the guerilla by Karina a few weeks prior. You felt a shudder run through you, which Giselle responded to with a bark of “Stop squirming”.
later, Karina called you into her office.
“Y/n,” she smiled, tilting her head. “You seem.. on edge. May I ask why?” She was being overly formal, and it unsettled you.
“Ever since the attack, I keep feeling like it’ll happen again,” you began, rambling— it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The fear in your eyes and shakiness of your movement confirmed that, at least, it was partially true. “Im scared, that they’ll come here, and kill us. I don’t know what to do,”
Karina’s smile stayed in place, as she ushered you to sit down on the couch, there. “Don’t worry, corazón,” she assured, a hand running through your hair. You began to relax— maybe she wasn’t so scary, after all— It was understandable, maybe it wasn’t actually a test, maybe-
“As long as you’re loyal, nothing bad will happen to you,” she continued, hand tightening in your hair. “If you were to sell us out, then, you understand. I couldn’t promise your protection,” her hand strengthening its grip on your hair, speaking into your ear.
“Now, why don’t we get your mind off it?” She offered, looking into your eyes with a faux-sweet expression.
you complied, obviously. Despite the fear, there was a part of you that was drawn to her. She was threatening to kill you if you betrayed her, yet, you still kissed her, desperately.
she kissed back, of course, hungrily and heatedly.
That’s how most of the both of your talks ended, anyway.
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1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 12:01 AM Location: una discoteca Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
It was 1986, now— had just turned into the new year. You were at a club, celebrating another year alive.
You had no idea where the other three girls went, thoroughly tipsy and entranced with Karina.
Karina was a bad person, you knew this. She was ruthless, and you should be scared of her.
but right now, with her hands on your hips, in the flashing lights of the club, you couldn’t quite remember that.
The two of you stumbled into the quieter, back parts of the club where there were rooms. Karina knew this place better than you, anyway.
it was still loud, and you could barely hear anything. She pressed you against the wall, tugging your hair, beginning to suck and bite at your neck.
she was most definitely drunk, you could tell by the flush to her face and how her words were looser than normal.
You knew you should’ve taken advantage of this, but you couldn’t. Your body felt hot, and instead of finding information, like you should have, you fell right back into Karina like a rat to a glue-trap.
you were pathetic.
and you knew it.
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1986, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:23 AM Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
Karina had called you into her office, except this time, Giselle was there.
You were beyond exhausted, but did not complain.
They were both intimidating. Giselle was staring at you, coldly, arms crossed, while Karina had an amused expression on her face, grinning, head tilted into her hand.
“Y/n, I have a job for you,” she called, in a cheery voice.
“It shouldn’t be too hard, but you’ll be working with Giselle from now on. It’ll be good for you,” she continued, standing up and walking towards you. “She’ll keep you safe— won’t you, Gigi?” She asked, almost mockingly, a saccharine expression in her face.
“You’ll have a body by the end of the day. That’s all you want her for, anyway,” Giselle retorted, irritated.
“How great! Come now, y/n, Giselle will explain,” Karina beckoned, quite happy today. Some expansion into the U.S. had gone well, you knew that much, but there was no reason she should be so.. animated.
Karina handed you a semiautomatic pistol, which you stared down at. She then smiled, handing you a small box of bullets. She still kept a smile on her face, remarking, “You know, these are special. They’re hollow point bullets— Ningning made them,”
“What? She made them?” You knew of hollow-point bullets, they weren’t a secret, just uncommon.
“Drill a hole into them, cut an X to make some petals, and there you have it— well, I’d ask Ningning, of course, I’m not a weapons specialist. It’s quite easy,”
“But why? They don’t-”
“Effectiveness. They leave a bigger exit wound, and leave shrapnel inside the body at times,” Giselle interrupted. “In other words, pain. They’re used to inflict pain,”
Karina smiled, sadistic as ever, as she watched Giselle load some rifles.
“Today, we have a few hits to get done,” Giselle informed. “You’ll be coming with me. You know how to shoot a rifle?” She asked, glancing over at your horrified expression.
“No, I-”
“What about a pistol?”
You nodded.
“Perfect!” Karina exclaimed. “You can help with the interrogation, then. Giselle, I’ll meet you at the location. Try not to dirty her too much, hm?” Karina advised, slinking away.
“That’s why she’s so happy?” You asked, in shock. “Because-”
“Because she gets to kill someone? Yeah, that’s why. She’s sick in the head. You knew what you were getting into,”
you stared at Giselle in silence. The other girl was grabbing some sniper-rifle that you had never seen before, and several rounds of ammunition.
she loaded it into the car, and you two began the drive.
you held the pistol in your hands shakily, silent for most of the ride.
once you got to the location, you watched Giselle pray. You had heard of hitmen praying before their job, and you still couldn’t understand. They prayed to God to protect them, yet, they were about to take a life.
“Why are you praying?” You asked, suddenly, acidly. “We’re about to kill people, God wouldn’t-”
“It’s my job,” she interrupted, which was a common occurrence with Giselle. “It’s my job, and I’m just asking Him to keep me alive until it’s over,” she spat, coolly. “You don’t know what I’ve had to do. But you will, soon. So just shut up, will you?” She got out of the car, slamming the door shut. You scrambled after her, and the both of you hauled the equipment up the boarded-up, run-down building, up several flights of stairs, finally beginning to set it up after a few stories, looking down at a busy road.
“Why are we killing him?” You murmured your question, watching as Giselle began to adjust the rifle.
“He owes Karina money, and he won’t pay it. He also stole some of our goods and has been cutting pure cocaine with some other shit, I didn’t really care enough to figure out what. His other friend is the one we’ll be interrogating. He’ll die no matter what he says,” Giselle shrugged, watching the empty street, the morning finally coming through the sky, although the dark, clouded sky blocked the bright sun.
“How long will we be here?”
“However long it takes,”
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It turns out that “however long it takes” meant almost eight hours. You were bored to death, yet still terrified. You were about to kill someone. And you had been here, waiting on edge for it to happen, for almost eight hours. You felt like you were going to burst into tears.
“Giselle, how much longer is this gonna take?” You complained, although a bit shaky.
“Trust me, I don’t want to be here either,” she drawled. “But he should be here, soon. He works near here,”
It took maybe another half hour before he appeared. Giselle saw him before you did, obviously— you didn’t even know what he looked like— but she didn’t immediately shoot. Her eyes stared down at him through the scope, her fingers brushing against the trigger. He was wide open, walking slowly without a car in the world. He stopped for a second, someone crossing in front of him—
click.
you heard the gun go off before you looked down.
Giselle had shot him perfectly in the side of the head. You couldn’t see a lot, obviously, you were pretty high up, but you saw enough.
his body crumpled to the ground, immediately, blood pooling around him. People screamed, cars stopped, and they all were looking around frantically trying to find the shooter. Giselle moved the gun and herself away from the window, to the side where they weren’t visible.
“Come on, hurry up— we gotta go,” she urged.
“Hold on, won’t they see us step out of the building? Isn’t this a bad idea?”
“They won’t catch us, there’s too much chaos going down there. Now come on, let’s go,”
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The drive to the warehouse was relatively silent.
Giselle was tense, but that wasn’t new. She always was. But she seemed almost.. solemn. Quiet.
you both arrived, stepping out of the car, into the meeting point. Giselle had her own pistol, you also kept yours on hand.
when you entered, there was a man tied there. Giselle tensed when she saw him, but said nothing. You figured it was because of Karina, standing behind him with the same placid, content smile. It was eerie.
“Giselle, Y/n! You’ve made it,” she smiled. “I take it the job went well?”
“It was all fine,” Giselle replied. “Nothing out of the ordinary happened,”
“That’s great, really, it’s good! I’m quite happy today, Y/n, because we have a special guest. I know I said he owed me money— in a way he does— but this is something far more important. He works with the Americans! Isn’t that just amazing?” She continued, happily, waving her gun around in the air as she spoke. “I’m sure we’ll get some good information out of him,”
“So, the both of you, come! Let’s begin,” Karina gestured to the man, in the dim lights.
you figured, well— the show must go on.
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The man was tied to a chair, that much was obvious. The floor was concrete, and there were boarded up windows and maybe one or two hanging lightbulbs. It was a bit dark.
the walls were steel, corrugated iron, and it gave a prison-like feel. the man was looking around, wildly, straining against his restraints.
“Hey,” Karina called, walking closer to him.
“You’re going to tell me everything there is to know about those Americans, okay? And then I’ll let you go. As long as you don’t lie,” she assured, pausing. “Now talk,” she demanded.
“They’ve noticed the supply into their country. They’re working on stopping it. They’ve already sent a few agents to infiltrate a few different parts of the cartel—”
“Which ones?” Was her sharp, quick reply.
“Medellín, primarily, but they’ve been looking to Bogotá. I don’t know much more than that, I don’t even know who the agents are, I-”
“Ning!” Karina barked, the dark haired girl appearing out of the dark. She held a pistol in her hand, jaw clenched, staring up at Karina.. defiantly, almost. “Won’t you be a dear and deal with him, for me?”
Ning glanced to the man. His eyes widened, and he began to thrash. “No! I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t know any agents! I don’t know anything!” He pleaded, desperately. Ning looked away, aiming the gun.
You heard a whispered ‘I’m sorry’, and she made the shot.
Through the head, perfectly center. Ning placed a hand over her mouth, the smell of blood biting and metallic, letting out a choked sob.
Karina looked over at Ning. “Now, Ning-ie, there’s a bus waiting for you outside. You’ll take that back to our meeting point, won’t you? So you won’t get caught?”
Ning nodded, wiping her eyes of tears. She went over to Giselle, they exchanged some words, hugged— she came over to you.
“Y/n.. I’m sorry. There’s no way to get you out, now. Be careful, don’t.. don’t trust anyone, don’t- just.. be careful, okay?” she advised, lowly, hugging you, still crying faintly.
“Ning, what- I don’t understand, why’re you acting like this?”
“You’ll tell Minjeong I’ll miss her, right? I wanted to say goodbye, properly, but.. I didn’t have time. I left a note,” she added, slipping it into your pocket inconspicuously, pulling away from the hug. “Give it to her, for me. You were fun to be around, I’ll miss you too. Don’t lose yourself, stay focused. It was nice to know you, y/n,”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell her- I’ll give it to her- Ning, why are you acting like this? What’s going on?”
Ning smiled, laughing wetly, still crying. “You’ll find out, later. You’ll find out..”
Karina walked Ning out of the warehouse. You and Giselle trailed behind, still a few paces away. The bus was parked right outside, filled with people.
Karina hugged Ning, whispered something to her which made Ning clench her fists and cry harder— you don’t know from what.
Ning got on the bus with a smile, crying— though you still didn’t know why— and waved goodbye.
You looked to Giselle, confused, watching the bus continue on, further down the street, already maybe a mile or two away from you. “What was that abou-”
your ears rang. You heard it before it registered.
the bus had exploded.
there was carnage, everywhere. Parts of it had been thrown into different buildings. There were body parts strewn across the street, a crater in the asphalt, fire, along the metal— cars had been crushed, it was now chaos in the streets. You had almost been pushed back from the force, nicking yourself with the small, sharp pieces of metal. Karina was still standing, her suit dusty and filled with ash.
“Karina, what- what did you do?” you cried, confused and distraught yet again, feeling the tears build in your eyes.
Karina cooed, crouching down over you, thumbing the skin under your eye. “Oh, mi amor, don’t cry,” she reassured. “Ning was working with the Americans. The man in the warehouse knew, and was helping her sneak information along our supply chain! Don’t worry, the traitor is gone,” she ran a hand through your now dirty hair, cleaning a cut on your face with her finger. She smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, speaking lowly into your ear.
“I’m tired of these Americans trying to ruin my business. They keep putting themselves where they don’t belong. Don’t worry, mi cielo, you’ll be safe as long as you’re loyal to me, and as long as you listen. I know you will. Because you’re trustworthy, aren’t you?” She smiled, looking down at you.
you nodded, dazed. Karina had just killed Ning. Ning was dead. You had to get out of here. You figured hundreds were injured. You had to leave.
Giselle was even farther back, looking at Karina with contempt.
you didn’t notice, though. You were too busy watching the flames dance in the street.
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1987, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 9:46 P.M Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel
it had been almost a year since the incident.
ever since Ning died, things had been different. Minjeong had been quieter, and angrier. Everything set her off, she came back covered in blood most of the time. You didn’t want to ask where she’d been— you’d just sit with her, quietly. Sometimes you heard her cry at night.
Giselle had been even more cagey, always out, defensive, on high-alert constantly.
and Karina.. well, you’d been spending a lot of time with Karina. You knew she was bad, you did, but there was something about her. It was just something about her, something that drew you in, and you hated yourself for it.
like right now. You were in her office, again, as she kissed you hungrily, hands gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.
your mind drifted. You reported back to DAS every so often, but you did inform them that you had to be very careful, that your reports would be sporadic. Truthfully, they didn’t event think you’d make it this far, do they were okay with waiting. They seemed to have several informants, anyway.
”y/n,” Karina growled, lowly, sucking and biting harshly at your neck. “You seem distracted. Focus on me, no? You promised you’d help me..” she murmured, almost a pleading sound to her voice. You weren’t stupid, though. Karina didn’t beg, she didn’t plead. This was mocking. You sucked it up, though.
you tried to focus on her, you did, but everything was beginning to get to you. DAS weighed heavily on your mind, and Minjeong’s grief did, too, and Giselle’s odd behavior, her accent, even the way she dressed— she didn’t seem like she was from here. She didn’t seem like she’d been her a long while.
“Y/n,” Karina snapped, annoyed. “Focus, will you? Or maybe you’ll end up like that bastard traitor,” she remarked, acidly, far too much emotion for the situation. Karina had been angrier lately, too. It must be the stress of the betrayal. Surely that’s why— it shook her to her core that there was a rat in her ranks. She had gotten paranoid.
the mention of Ning made you emotional, though. You felt tears prick at your eyes.
she looked down, and let out a laugh. “Oh, I love when you cry, baby,” she grinned, voice rough. “It makes you look so good. But not right now.. maybe in a bit. Stop being such a pussy,” she instructed, to which you nodded shakily.
and like that is how your work went, for a bit.
it wasn’t until late 1988 everything began to change.
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Karina had been busy, lately. A lot of men came to her office, ones you didn't recognize and some you did, vaguely, from other meetings.
Karina had been overtly paranoid about informants— It was a miracle she hadn't discovered you, yet— or maybe she had. Maybe she was just waiting for the right time, playing with you, maybe-
"Y/n!" She called, in a sing-song tone.
You entered her office, quietly.
"I need your help for another job. A big one. If you do this, then it'll officially make you a part of us! Isn't that fantastic, baby?"
Karina had her hands on your hips, the same practiced smile she always wore on her face.
"Yes.. fantastic, it really is," you replied, in a murmur. "But what will I be doing?"
"You know the DAS building, here, in Bogotá? Well, amor, we'll be getting rid of it,"
"rid of it?" You tried to school your expression, but the shock and horror was plainly visible on your face. You felt sick.
"Rid of it. As in, you know— the building. I have a few ways to make sure it stays gone for quite a while. It’ll take nearly a year, I predict, but it’ll get done. You’ll be going to a few meetings with Giselle and me to make sure you can help. Is that okay, y/n?” She asked, in a faux-concerned tone. You both knew she wasn’t asking whether or not you’d do it, you had to. It was a rhetorical question. You would say yes, either way.
“Yes. It’s.. it’s fine,” you murmured.
“Good. Now, you can go. I’m sure there’s something for you to do to make yourself useful around here,”
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MEETING ONE 1988, Medellín, Colombia Local time: 4:52 P.M. Location: a small town up in the mountains; el campo Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
Driving with Giselle was really not a good time. The songs on the radio were good, though.
the other girl was so frustrated, for some reason.
“Giselle,” you chanced. “I don’t mean to pry, but seriously— why are you so.. stressed?”
“We’re about to blow up Colombia’s national security headquarters, I think anyone would be stressed,”
You eyed her, not quite convinced.
“You know, anytime we carry out a job you’re so on edge,” you commented. she whipped her head around, knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel.
“Are you accusing me of something, y/l/n?”
“No,” you replied, slowly. “Not at all,”
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the meeting took place up in the mountains.
the negotiations were mostly handled by Giselle, but she looked nearly ready to scream.
“We’re paying you what you’ve asked, just give us the supply,” she repeated, voice low.
“I think it’s fair to ask for a little more, linda,”
Giselle was seething. Honestly, these men had rifles, machine guns— you weren’t about to fight them. you took out your pistol.
you pointed it right at the 500kg of dynamite.
“Take the money,” you instructed, eyes wide. You looked crazed, most likely.
they stared at you.
“I said take the FUCKING MONEY! You think I won’t do it? We can add on 130,000 more pesos, but that’s it.”
They agreed.
Giselle was silent, in the car drive. You stared at your hands.
“You would’ve done it,” she murmured.
“I would have,” you agreed, and it came with a sick sense of realization. You would have killed everyone in there, including yourself. You would have done it. Who were you? What had you become?
Giselle laughed, one of the only times you had ever seen her show a positive emotion.
“Oh, God,” she snickered. “You really didn’t think when you signed up for this, huh?” She commented. Your eyes widened, but you schooled them back into place.
no, she couldn’t mean what you thought. She couldn’t.
“Careful, baby,” she hummed. “You don’t wanna become something you can’t come back from,”
well, that’s fucking ominous.
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Your next meeting was scheduled in the following weeks. You felt like Giselle was.. watching you. Her gaze never left you, but whenever you looked back, she was always just staring out a window, or at something on the wall. It was unnerving.
The second meeting went smoothly, but ended late. Giselle was driving once again, smoking.
“Do you have another?” You asked, suddenly, glancing at her against the dark backdrop of the night.
“Another what?” She questioned, looking over at you for only a moment, before focusing on the old, pot-hole filled road again.
“A cigarette. And a light,” you clarified, holding out a hand.
“I have a cigarette,” she confirmed, handing you one. “But no light. Sorry,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
“Oh, fuck off Giselle. Just light it with yours,”
She rolled her eyes. “Why should I? Don’t you have a lighter?”
“I didn’t bring my lighter, I didn’t think I needed it,” you shot back.
She sighed, annoyed, but complying. She kept one hand on the wheel, barely glancing at the road, lit cigarette half in her mouth, being held in place by her hand. You kept your own firmly between your lips, not wanting it to fall.
she pressed the lit end to your own, eyes dark, and you couldn’t help but stare into them.
the end finally caught a spark, lighting up, and you both stared for a second more before breaking away.
You took a long drag, averting your eyes from her gaze, glad the dark of the night would hide your blush.
“Thanks,” you muttered, gazing out into the fields.
“Don’t mention it,”
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MEETING THREE 1988, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 2:31 A.M. Location: Karina’s office Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
It happened so very late, and you struggled to stay awake. You felt your eyes closing, but Giselle would push you, and you’d spring back up.
Karina was arguing with a man about the price of the job. She was aggravated, he wasn’t taking the accepted offer.
The meeting had started off very casual— she even offered him some of their supply. You didn’t take any, neither did Giselle, but Karina and the man each did a line, snorting it off the table.
You watched the cross that hung from her neck dangle along the table, occasionally tapping the wood. The other man wore one as well, as did Giselle, as did you— you felt just a bit guilty about it. Hopefully, He’d forgive you for your wrongdoings. Hitmen prayed to God and so did drug lords— as did nuns, priests, politicians— all prayed, all believed. At least, most did. They claimed so.
You were shaken from your thoughts by a loud crash. Karina had pushed the man against the wall, yelling, now— “¡Me estás sacando la piedra!”
Giselle never said anything like that. Come to think of it, she cursed under her breath, you weren’t even sure what language it was. you shouldn’t be thinking of Giselle, though, not when this man seemed like he would die. That shook you out of your stationary position.
you jumped up, rushing towards her. “Karina! Karina, let him go!” You demanded, trying to pull her off. Giselle followed suit, prying her off him. Karina was panting, she looked crazed. Blood trickled out of her nose, and you wondered how much of her supply she was doing.
“You don’t understand,” she growled, clutching her desk. “Just take the money,” she began, again, and the man finally nodded. She practically threw the money at him, watching as he scrambled out. She let out a frustrated sound, slamming her hands on the desk.
“Giselle, get out. Y/n. Stay,” she demanded, not turning around.
Giselle hesitated, for a moment, it was barely noticeable.
but she left.
Karina turned to you, and like so many times before— you were truly, deeply scared. And yet..
you fell right back into her, letting her kiss you, use you, until she was fine again.
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1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 3:13 A.M. Location: An old, unused road in the mountainside Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
The meetings happened in quick succession. They took place all throughout the rest of 1988, and into early 1989. It wasn’t until September that things really began to change.
Minjeong was always out. She avoided Karina, and only spoke with Giselle sparsely.
You and Giselle were in the car, currently. The final meeting had just occurred, and the both of you had gotten tired of driving.
you were both just sitting there, with the car off. Giselle spoke, suddenly.
“How do you do it?” She questioned. “How do you put up with her?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Karina. I just.. sometimes, she’s too much. Especially lately. She’s paranoid,”
“I don’t know, I just-” you couldn’t say it was because it was your job. You couldn’t say it was because a part of you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to even reply to that. “I just do,”
Giselle seemed like she wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth. It was silent till she spoke again. “I don’t understand you. I mean, you’re like me, but.. you’re just so.. different— naive,”
“I am not naive!” You protested, even though you knew very well you were.
“Yes you are! I know you’re- I-” she wasn’t being very coherent, aggravated, fingers flexing like she was antsy.
“I’m what? What am I? Just spit it out, Giselle! I’m tired of-”
She cut you off, kissing you. You were surprised, for a moment, but quickly reciprocated. Her fingers curled in your hair, pulling you closer. You braced yourself on the dash, trying not to touch the wheel or anything else that could move the car.
“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Giselle muttered, pulling you into the backseat with her. “You just have no idea what’s going on, do you?”
You panted, now slightly confused. “What?”
“Nevermind,” she groaned, pulling you closer once again.
She pulled you onto her lap, and you snaked your hands into her hair, tugging at it, blunt nails scratching at her scalp.
You didn’t really feel bad about it, is what you’d realize later, when you were driving back in silence.
You kind of wanted her to do it again.
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You and Giselle didn’t talk about anything that had happened. Partly because you didn’t want to, and partly because you feared what Karina would do if she found out. The weeks leading up to what you found to be a tragedy were tense. Minjeong was out more often than not, as was Giselle. You couldn’t warn anyone, because Karina had such a close eye on you, lately. She just wouldn’t leave you alone.
December came quicker than you would wish.
It was night when you heard Minjeong speaking to Karina.
“Jimin, you can’t do this,” she murmured, lowly, voice laced with an unseen anger.
“Why are you so tense, Minjeong? I thought you always agreed with me..” she sighed, and you could hear her walking through the thin walls.
“I can’t let you kill so many people, it’s just- it’s insane! You’re being irrational— you’ve snorted half of your own fucking supply!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Karina— Jimin, you’ve learned— spat, and the unmistakable sound of a slap resounded through the warehouse, Karina breathing hard. You heard a struggle, and panting. “I’ll kill you, Minjeong, don’t think I won’t. I’ve kept you around out of pity— and of course, you’ve always been so obedient. Why are you so hellbent on rebelling now?” She whined, in a mocking manner.
“You killed Ningning— how am I supposed to be loyal to someone who kills her own men?” Minjeong replied, voice breathy, as if she couldn’t breathe.
There was silence.
“You’ll learn. Now, leave here. If you argue against me again, I’ll feed you to the wolves,” Jimin growled, and the sound of Minjeong hitting the floor was heard all throughout the warehouse. “Get out of my sight,”
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1989, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: a safehouse for the cartel Objective: Find the key members of the cartel.
Karina was, and always will be, a mystery.
you had found out now that Karina’s name was Yu Jimin. You had asked Minjeong, shortly after what happened. You went to sleep, and awoke to the sound of the radio, blaring.
“El edificio del Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad ha sido bombardeado.”
you woke up with a start. You knew it’d happen. But there was a sense of true hatred, in that moment.
you walked out of your room.
you walked into Karina’s office.
“Yu Jimin,”
she whipped around, smile morphing into a frown in seconds.
“How do you know that name?”
“Minjeong,”
She saw the gun in your hand.
“Oh, won’t you put that down?”
You stared at her.
She smiled, then.
“You know, I knew you worked for them,” she began, nonchalantly.
“What?”
all that work, all that secrecy— it meant nothing, in the end? She knew, she always knew?
“I saw you searching for our names. You were just so.. you seemed like you’d work for the government. And then I found that little phone you had! It’s been disconnected for years. They haven’t received a single message,”
You stared, still, dumbfounded. Suddenly, this made it all the worse. She did this, forced you to help— knowing? You raised the pistol.
“Giselle,” Karina called, and the other girl appeared a few seconds later. She stared at the scene in front of her, looking between the two of you.
“Get rid of her for me, will you?” Karina dismissed, shrugging off the threat.
Giselle slowly took out her own gun. She pointed it at you, and yet—
“Yu Jimin, you’re under arrest for drug trafficking, terrorism, murder, smuggling, and-”
“What? What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened, as she shot up to her feet, gripping at her desk.
“My name is Aeri Uchinaga. I work for the FBI-”
“It was you!” She shrieked, nearly mad. “You were the mole? But you- you’ve killed in my name! Won’t you be implicit?”
“I’ll be pardoned by the state, most likely,” she informed.
it all made sense now. The strange accent, the tray she was so tense, constantly— you were a bit proud of yourself for noticing all the off things about her, but now was not the time.
you stared at Karina. You wanted to shoot her.
“She could leave,” you pointed out.
Giselle glanced over at you. “She could,”
you aimed at her leg. Just a bit off from the major artery in the thigh.
a click.
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The aftermath was severe. The building was destroyed, most of your department had dissolved. Minjeong was working with the police, you had found out— although you hadn’t heard from her since the arresting.
you weren’t sure what to do, anymore. You had dedicated so much to this— and it was all for nothing. Essentially, you had failed.
You were currently living with Aeri, actually. You were a valuable witness— you had seen and done things that would hopefully be able to incriminate Karina, more than all the other records there was of her actions.
Aeri wasn’t as mean as she had been. She was actually quite quiet— but not mean. You two spoke about it. A lot had happened, and you both lived through it. You could relate to each other.
it would take time, though.
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1993, Bogotá, Colombia Local time: 11:13 A.M. Location: Washington, D.C. Objective: . . .
It had been 4 years since Yu Jimin had been arrested. She was facing many, many charges— although you tried not to keep up with the news. There was to much going on.
currently, you were with Aeri. You and Aeri had gotten much closer in the following years— how could you not? You spent almost every waking moment together.
Aeri had some work to do, so you were waiting. It was quite simple, really.
You had been offered a position, here— in D.C. You’d work on other jobs, similar to this, but far more investigative. It sounded.. good. You’d like to help people, thats alway’s something you’ve wanted.
You were shaken out of your thoughts by Aeri.
“Hey,” she called, to get your attention. “Let’s go, they’ve got some questions to ask you before you can get hired. You know how government jobs are,” she shrugged, leading you down a winding hallway.
“Yeah,” you replied, your hand in hers. “They kind of suck,”
“They do,” she agreed, with a sigh. “They kind of do,”
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A/N: I HATE HOW THIS CAME OUT 😭😭 it took me so long but it’s done. I kind of just wanted to get it over with. I don’t have much to say, honestly I might delete this. I had a good idea for it but just couldn’t find the words to execute it. sorry </3 expect a better work soon. I’m hoping to finish up some less heavy ideas before returning to my cold war AU. In any case, asks are appreciated, and I’m open to requests! thank you for reading this mess </3 also aeri being endgame is payback for you (aettudae) making her married to a man in honeycomb. that should be ME.
EXTRA: when you read ‘mi amor’ keep in mind I’m imagining to pronounced like one word, so more like ‘mia-mor’. ‘mia’ kind of sounds like ‘mya’. this will make sense to spanish speakers.
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silenttrxxs · 2 days ago
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choi san! x reader
best friends to lovers! nsfw, smut. 18+ NO MINORS!!
3am, the time read on your phone, you groaned loudly rolling back over and pulling the duvet back over your head as you sighed. Why the fuck your phone was ringing at 3am was beyond you... you sighed when the ringtone ended and silence fell over the room again. You smiled to yourself and gave into the wave of tiredness that spread through your body. Growling, you got up picking up your phone and putting it on speaker as you grabbed a blanket wrapping it around you sliding your slippers on and trudging to the kettle as you spoke on the phone. "san i swear on anything that may be above this better be good or im personally going to string you up and gut you its 5am" you growled into the phone. Giggling a little as you heard him suck in a slight breath as your tone shocked him. "s-sorry y/n but im outside and i need you packed and ready in 2 hours okay, i brought you your favourite snacks and drink now open up please" he spoke as he picked up the bag and stood ready to be let into your home.
"youre lucky i have a soft spot for you and you know a way to bribe succesfully" you said opening the door and smiling hanging up the phone.
you took the bag and put it on the table as you wrapped your arms around sans shoulders, hugging him tightly.
"i have missed you san-san but why this early you know i like my sleep" you spoke stepping back and grabbing a cookie and taking a sip of your drink. san stood there, watching your every move and smiled.
"well i thought since the company has finally allowed us time to go away for a while i thought who best to spend time with than my best friend. And plus you get sick and tired living with hwa and mingi after a while" san says laughing a little. "right so i have 2 hours to pack for what exactly" you scoff pulling the blanket of and walking back to the bedroom pulling out your suitcase and not so graciously throwing it onto your bed. You turnt to your wardrobe grabbing your underwear and rolling it up putting it in and your toiletry bag, pulling out a multitude of clothes out and rolling them up. "well where are we going then sannie?" you question as you look over at san who is pulling out your makeup and putting it into a bag for you.
"hmm ill tell you when we get there..." he says shrugging his shoulders.
"b-but" you gasp and give him a puppy dog look, trying to get him to break and tell you.
"excuse me you think that works, i deal with wooyoung on a daily basis im indestructible to that charm darling" san giggles and pats your head placing the bag in your suitcase and helping you to zip it up.
You both walk to the car, san taking the suitcase from you and lifting it setting it into the boot of his car before opening the door and ushering you into the passenger seat. He starts the car and looks at you, "you better have your passport thats all im saying madam" he laughs as you pick up your bag and root through it, you make a noise that makes san jump as you hold the passport up and put it back. "okay so its abroad hmm... interesting" you say as you fumble with the stereo and put some music on, enjoying the journey to the airport.
you both arrive pulling out your suitcases and giggling together as you help tuck sans hair into his hat and adjust his mask, walking to the terminal. You try to guess the destination but you're dragged away from every sign and each time the tanoi announces a boarding san is quick to cover your ears and shake his head laughing.
"this isn't fair you know, you could be leading me to my own death and ... stupidly id be traipsing along like a lost puppy" you roll your eyes and cross your arms.
"what if i am, what would pouty little y/n do about it huh, they love their sannie too much to say a word" san says in a teasing tone.
"god i could just slap you right now" you joke and smile a little as you watch the way his eyes crinkle as he laughs with you.
san jumps as he covers your ears as your boarding is announced he covers your eyes as he leads you onto the plane. "thank you thank you she isnt to know where we are going so im gonna cover her eyes till were seated" he says to the staff as they ask what hes doing.
you laugh as you get guided to the seat of the plane and once sat you look around, youre sat in first class with san, milan posters everywhere. " San you didnt" you gasp out as you realise where you both are going.
"oh yeah its beautiful there and i have always wanted to bring you but its been a busy season lately and i never got the chance" san says.
"now get some rest ill wake you when we get there" san says patting his shoulder as you rest into his hold on the plane, he puts on a movie and holds you tight enjoying the journey with you.
time skip
you both arrive in milan. the city lights shinging brightly as you exit the airport together, you look over to san as he ushers a taxi. youj gasp as he speaks fluent italian.
"ciao sì, potrei avere un taxi per 2 per favore" he says and you roll your eyes a little trying to will away the blush that creeps on your cheeks before he turns to you.
"dai allora amore mio" he says look at you as he smiles. noticing the slight red tinge to your neck. "someone likes my italiano" san says as he loads the suitcases into the taxi with your and opens the door as he slides in next to you.
you shove him a little as he gets in and sigh relaxing a little as you enjoy the trip. You gasp loudly as san speaks pointing to the building your getting closer to the hotel beautifully traditional. "were here mi amor" he says as he helps you out the taxi and grabs the suitcases, thanking the driver and paying him.
"now lets go and see the room" he says excitedly as you follow behind taking in the decor of the hotel, the walls splayed with dolce and gabbana photos. "is this what i think it is san-ah" you ask. trailing behind san as he opens the door to the penthouse suite.
"come on then dont just stand there with your jaw on the floor" he says pulling you into the suite and laughing.
"san what the fuck do you think your doing... this place..." you say your thoughts trailing off as you take in the view. Your suitcases dealth with and a whiskey being poured and a glass of red wine passed to you.
"here" san says passing the drink to you and smiling as he wraps his arm around your waist as you both look out the window, san takes the glass of whiskey and smiles, his attention being diverted to your face as you sip the wine. He takes in the flush that spreads across your neck and up into your cheeks as his hand squeezes your waist a little testing your will a little.
"its beautiful isnt it" he says his eyes glistening with a look that you had never seen before. "s-san" you breathe out turning slowly, sans lips ghosting over yours as you sucked in the breath his lips were on yours. The way your lips melded together sent shivers to course through your veins. Your body heating up with the feeling of his hands wandering across your body. You spent years trying so hard to keep your feelings at bay, keeping the relationship you held with him at an arms length not wanting your heart to get broken yet again with the feeling that he may have not felt the same way but this pang in your heart being struck away as your mind was filled with the feeling of his tongue ghosting across your lips silently asking for entrance. You opened your mouth allowing him entrance, your hands gripping onto his shirt the glasses of drink long forgotten as your body was lifted from the ground. The air only thickening with desire and lust as you found your body thrown onto the bed. The cool air hitting your body as sans skilled has made ease of removing your layers.
You whine into his mouth as his hands grip into your skin, the pain making you hiss slightly you was sure his touch was going to leave a trail of marks in its wake. You smiled as you locked your gaze with his, noticing the unmistakable feeling of his arousal pressing against your core. You let out a moan, the noise causing san to buck his hips into you, wanting nothing more than to hear more of your noises as he took his time to unravel you from the inside out.
"fuck youre beautiful like this" he breathed out as he sat up, his gaze falling over your body, taking the look beneath him in like the smoothest whiskey he had ever drank. His thirst becoming unquenchable until he has his lips on you. He groaned as he felt your hands reaching for him, gripping into his thighs as your nails scratched into the skin, the burn setting aflame something animalistic in him. He gripped you, pushing your legs apart, moaning as your pussy clenched around nothing, the arousal leaking out of you in waves, he licked his lips as he smirked. moving his body weight to the end of the bed, pulling your weight with him, his face finding purchase between your thighs, drinking in the sweet scent that fell from your body the closer he got. He turnt his head licking a stripe along your thigh, his teeth biting into your thigh, the feeling igniting something inside you that you didnt know was there. You gripped into sans hair tugging harshly, his face now close to your aching core. "so needy arent we baby" he breathes out before licking a slow stripe along your folds, your arousal coating his tongue as his hands grip into your thighs ensuring you stay still, only allowing your hips to buck as he teased your clit with a smirk places across his face. You moaned loudly his name spilling from his lips as he brought you closer and closer to the most intense orgasm you have had in a while, your sight becoming hazy as you felt the familiar knot tightening in your gut, the wave coursing through your body only to be ripped away as he lifted his head, moving to stand, his fingers gently caressing your folds as he collected your arousal on his fingers and stroking himself, you blinked as your body was tossed around, now on your knees as he pulled your hips off the bed, bending you over it as he lined up with your entrance, pushing himself inside you as your walls clenched around his throbbing cock. He felt himself bottom out, the warmth of you covering him in a hazy feeling as he moaned at the feeling his hands stroking your back, pulling you up slowly, the angle making you both moan loudly.
You gasped, moans falling from your lips as he thrusted into you slowly the burn of the stretch long forgotten and your body aflame with pleasure as you felt his hands gripping into your hair tugging harshly as he used his other hand gripping into your hip his thrusts becoming harsher, you whined as he groaned his grip on you getting harder as he chased his own pleasure with you.
"fuck baby you feel so good, p-please" he breathed out, the way he spoke causing you to clench around him. A hiss leaving his body as he abused your hole.
"let me cum inside you please baby i need to feel your cunt milk me" he hissed out as his hips thrusted into you harder. You whined louder his name becoming the only vocabulary that you knew in this moment. You clenched around his throbbing cock as a silent agreement. Feeling the way you clenched around him he moaned loudly, releasing into your core, his seed pouring out mixing with your own release around his cock, his attack not stopping as he fucked both your arousals back into you, the overstimulation causing you both to hiss as the feeling. "fuck baby" he breathed out as he pulled out of your abused cunt.
you turn around slowly, the thin layer of sweat covering his body making him look more heavenly than you ever dreamed of. "i- i have no words" you breathed out trying to contain how your heart wished to pour itself into him.
"lets go take a shower and talk about that after hows that sound" san says lifting your body from the bed, helping you to the shower.
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gallusrostromegalus · 1 day ago
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So the short version of what happened:
The former owner:
1. Installed a furnace that's about half again too powerful for the house.
2. An AC unit that is only half as powerful as it needs to be
3. The AC's condensation pipe EXACTLY where it would drip into the furnace and rust the motor and heating elements.
4. His own duct work (derogatory)
So what's been happening is the AC and Furnace have been slowly killing each other and also took a good portion of the duct work and the electrical panel with them. Which is four major devices that all play together so I can't replace *just* the furnace.
Now, while these are major sins of homeownership, they are not prosecutable offenses. The Home Inspector our realtor hired before buying this HOWEVER:
1. Somehow failed to notice this impending clusterfuck
2. Reported that the furnace and AC were the correct size and only four years old, instead of completely the wrong sizes and actually 12 years old.
3. Also failed to make any kind of note about last year's sewer fiasco.
So we're taking them and the realtor to court because they are DANGEROUSLY INCOMPETENT and I feel like I am owed for this. But I will not have that money in time to keep my house warm this winter.
We are all safe. For all its other faults, the house is at least well-insulated and if it gets unacceptably cold, we will decamp to my in-laws ten minutes from here.
Once again, I am floored by your generosity and thank you all for everything you have done.
6,000/15,000
My Furnace Broke :(
Hi kids, it's your favorite storytelling chicken, and my Furnace has decided to die. It also decided to take the A/C unit out with it.
This is both very expensive to fix, and also kind of urgent: the more observant of you may have noticed that it is November, and getting onto winter here in the Rockies.
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Look at this little man, huddling on my feet for warmth.
I have *some* emergency funds, but not enough to cover even a temporary fix, and that's also the fund that vet, medical, and car repair bills come out of, all of which I've had too much of this year.
I'm currently pitting four HVAC companies against each other to get the best offer possible, and getting the paperwork done for state subsidies, refunds and other discounts, but I still need your help.
Thank you all, everything you can do helps.
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spatialwave · 11 hours ago
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Confession || Jayce Talis x Reader
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➸ ask: “The sacred romantic moments prompts are so darn cute I can’t choose😩how about ‘truth is that i’m so damn in love with you that i don’t know what to do with myself’ for jayce. Thanking you🫶🏻” – ➸ pairing: jayce talis x gn!reader ➸ word count: 1.9k  ➸ tags: mdni! fluff, hurt/comfort, yearning, one-sided love, confessions, childhood friends, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: i think i popped off with this one! took me a couple of days to write, but i am so happy with it! if you like yearning then this one is for you!! hehe. the ask came from this prompt! – ➸ summary: jayce talis has never experienced love quite like this.
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The melodic whistling from Jayce had woven itself into the very fabric of your life. A soundtrack to your life you hadn’t asked for. You were never able to escape the sounds or his presence. Stuck at the hip since children, spending much of your life watching him dream larger than life. 
Jayce Talis was hope personified.
He carried a quiet tune under his breath, careful fingers toying with a rune he had meticulously carved. The warm pads of his thumbs brushed away the layer of dust that accumulated from the careful engravings, pausing his whistling for a moment as he carried out the task with a swift blow of his breath.
“Someone’s chipper,” your voice rang through his cluttered apartment. Leaning casually against the door frame, you watched as he perked up, head snapping over his shoulder. Those eyes reminiscent of the sun breaking through the clouds settled on your figure.
It was a pain, Jayce thought, for you to be so oblivious of his feelings.
Days, weeks, and months turned into years. All this time spent loving you, one-sided and terrified that you may never know. Too afraid to ruin a perfectly good thing. His yearning clung like a shadow.
Jayce had been there for you – always. Your first broken bone, your first love… your first heartbreak. Jayce remembered that day vividly, the way your body shook as you sobbed on his shoulder begging for the ache in your heart to stop, all while he held you and drowned with guilt for feeling happy that was the one there for you.
All because it meant that just maybe you would see him in another light. See him as a man who was worthy of your love.
As always, he bottled it up. Refusing to jeopardize the bond you shared. If he couldn’t have your heart, he’d protect his own.
“Yeah,” Jayce replied, his voice filling your heart with a sense of familiarity as you stepped into the room, hands settled onto your hips. Dropping his supplies, he quirked an eyebrow and straightened up slightly, “Wait, how’d you get in here?”
“You know, Jayce,” you sighed, giving a short ‘tsk’ of disappointment as your eyes bounced around his lab. It was messier than usual, the scattered tools and half-finished contraptions indicating he’d been spending more time here lately, likely on the brink of another grand discovery, as he’d call it. 
“Locking doors is free and usually saves you from burglars,” you continued, bending to poke at one of the hextech crystals on a messy desk.
“Hey,” he exclaimed, hurrying to your side with a breath of concern, snatching the orb from your curious touch, “Careful!”
The way he carefully handled his precious work was endearing, almost as tender as cradling a newborn baby. There was no faulting him for that–after all, you weren’t going to be the one to have your eyebrows burn into flames again. You learned your lesson, but it was hard not to rouse a reaction out of him once in a while.
To see the way he’d growl under his breath when you pestered him, or how he’d nudge you with his elbow affectionately. Little gestures that made him fall for you harder and harder with every passing day.
You were so damned insufferable, and he couldn’t get enough.
Eyes met yours as the two of you stood next to each other, silently. A moment of solace to bask in each other’s presence.
“You look like you need a break,” you murmured, eyes squinting to get a better look at Jayce to take in the obvious signs of exhaustion on his face. His eyes were heavy and highlighted by dark circles underneath, the growing stubble–“Did you even sleep last night?”
“I’m fine,” he chided, avoiding your gaze as he turned to tuck away the crystal you’d bothered, safely in its proper case, “As for sleep, I got enough to keep me going.”
“So… three hours, give or take? Including a twenty-minute nap for about ten minutes sometime around the three o’cock mark.”
“That’s creepy,” Jayce shot you a sideways glance, a smirk pulling the corner of his lips, “You’re creepy for knowing that.”
Your mouth dropped in a dramatic expression of mock disbelief, a silent gasp, “And you’re quite rude, Jayce. It’s not kind to name-call.”
“Okay, okay, sorry,” he snorted, slipping off his gloves from his fingers and resting them atop the desk behind him. As your eyes flickered out his open window, momentarily distracted, he took the time to admire you as you soaked in the sunlight that cascaded past his open curtains. The sunlight illuminating your features.
Jayce smiled, captivated by your effortless beauty. He would do anything to be given the privilege of showing you the way you looked in his eyes.
“You need a break,” you declared, your eyes landing on his just as he averted his gaze, “Come on before you go crazy.”
Your hand extended toward him, causing his heart to leap up into his throat as he stared down at it. Impatient, you shook it in silent urgency, and he was quick to fill it with his own as you tugged him far, far from his cluttered sanctuary that desperately needed a good clean.
“Gods,” you breathed, laughter bubbling up your chest as you found yourselves standing on the bridge that separated Piltover from Zaun. Your hands rested over the railing, fingers curved along the stone as you leaned over and looked down at the waters below, “Remember that time we came out here back when we were… what, fifteen? We stole that bottle of wine from my mother’s cabinet and drank so much that you nearly toppled off the ledge trying to climb on it.”
Jayce hadn’t been paying attention, hands tight over the rail like yours, entranced by you. Your lips were stretched into a wide, toothy grin as you looked down and relished in the cool breeze that tickled your warm skin.
His heart ached, thumping irregularly as it yearned, and cried out to be loved by you.
It’s why he allowed himself to be swallowed by his work for days on end–anything to escape the unbearable ache of being around you. It hurt, to be next to you, like a physical blow to the chest.
For years, he stood quietly off to the sidelines, watching as you were loved by others. Seeing the way your entire being lit up when you spoke so passionately about the love in your life, light in your eyes. Only to be shattered when they inevitably stomped all over you like you were nothing, leaving you a shattered mess. Jayce would be there to pick up the pieces, spending long, sleepless nights consoling you until your soft snores overtook the tears that streamed down your cheeks.
Jayce was nothing if not a coward. Regret clouded his mind each night when he would berate himself for not having the courage to confess his feelings. To tell you how much he fucking loved you.
He hated how angry it made him.
“Hello?” 
Your voice snapped him from his reverie, and his amber eyes widened as you stared at him, piercing through the fog of his thoughts.
“You really need some rest,” you said quickly, your eyebrows furrowing together in concern, “are you sure you’ve been okay?”
“I’m fine,” he grumbled, running a hand over his tired face in frustration as he turned away from you, “just tired.”
“Jayce,” your voice softened, and it struck a nerve in him that he wished hadn’t.
“I said I’m fine. Can you just leave it?”
Your body stiffened as you watched him in stunned silence, searching his face for any understanding of what was going on behind those pained eyes. Was it the research? Had his big breakthrough fallen out of grasp? Maybe he needed a nice herbal tea and a nap.
The entirety of your mind reeled with ways to help him, anything to alleviate the weight of the world he seemingly carried on his shoulders–unaware of the emotional turmoil that chained him to the ground beneath him.
“Why are you lying to my face?” You stood your ground stubbornly, arms crossed firmly over your chest, “It’s okay to be tired, Jayce. You work too hard.”
“I’m not lying,” Jayce replied sharply, a mix of frustration and desperation bleeding together. One hand lingered along the railing, the other moving with the passion of his words that masked the truth, “Why would I lie to you? I just–” he scrambled to gather his thoughts.
The struggle was evident on his face, and you felt your own frustration boil over. It was far and few between that you both indulged in these confrontations, bickering like an old married couple until they exploded into fiery words that often ended in mumbled apologies.
“Why are you being so difficult?” Your tone was loud and sharp, “I’m just trying to help!”
“I didn’t ask for your help!”
The words stung your cheeks like a harsh winter storm. 
Jayce’s jaw clenched tight, emotions roiling under his skin,  “Do you want to know the truth?”
You watched him, noticing the storm that swirled in his eyes, “Jayce–”
“The truth is–” Jayce began, lips trembling as he pushed through, “the truth is that I’m so damn in love with you, that I don’t know what to do with myself,” he exclaimed, confession spilling from his lips as he pressed a hand to his chest, “It’s impossible to be around you because my heart breaks every time I have to watch you leave, knowing that I can’t be the one by your side,” he choked on his words, eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts. It’s unbearable, gods, it hurts so fucking much.”
Jayce’s chest heaved with each deep breath, his guts spilled out in front of you. Vulnerable and open–what he’d been avoiding for so long.
Your lips trembled. Moving, but unable to form any sentences. All you could do was look into those eyes that spoke more than his passionate ramblings.
Your heart swelled, chest tightening in the best way possible.
“Do you know how hard it is?” he mumbled, taking a step back, “I can’t stand this anymore. I can’t. I’m sorry–”
“No,” your hand shot out and latched to his wrist, fingers tightening against his skin and holding him back from leaving. Gold-specked eyes widened, staring at you with yearning, “You don’t get to leave me here, not like this.”
Jayce watched as tears brimmed in your eyes, a smile creeping onto your lips. Beaming under the evening sun and glowing so beautifully, as if you were both earthly and divine–transcending. You were too good for this world, too good for him.
“Don’t make me stay if I can’t have you,” he whispered, voice fragile as it broke like glass.
Then your lips were on his, a gentle touch that eased every worry that dared to destroy his mind with heartbreak. It planted a seed of hope deep in his heart, one that would blossom too quickly and strongly. All because it was you who did it, the one he’d longed for all these years.
“Then stay,” you murmured against his lips, answered only by strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist with no intention of letting you go.
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constantcrying · 2 days ago
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Ersatz, baby
m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.
TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that
Heeeeey
Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year
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“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.
The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.
You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.
Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.
For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.
Regardless he said, “turn around.”
He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.
He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”
Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.
He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”
You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.
Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.
So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.
It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.
You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.
He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.
(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)
As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.
Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.
He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.
This Thursday you must have forgot.
Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.
He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.
It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—
—well, you called him your friend.
It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?
Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.
You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.
He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.
“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”
Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”
“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”
“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”
They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.
Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.
But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.
Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.
The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.
Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?
More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.
He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.
Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?
And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?
Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.
He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.
As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.
He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.
You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?
There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.
Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.
It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.
He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.
“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.
“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.
It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.
“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”
“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.
“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”
“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.
The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”
Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.
Sasha gives up on looking friendly.
Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”
He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.
It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.
Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.
Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?
Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:
hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?
What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—
At a party
And your answer is,
oh ok
we’ll watch it some other time
have fun!
Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something
It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.
He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.
For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.
But it disappears in an instant.
“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”
He doesn’t know what to say.
You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”
“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.
Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.
“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”
Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.
When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”
He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”
“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”
“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.
“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”
It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.
“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”
Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”
“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”
“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”
“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”
“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.
His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.
God help him, he’s been starving for this.
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planetpedri · 2 days ago
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Not a lot, just forever — Pedri González.
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Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader
Summary: For Pedri’s 22nd birthday, you wanted to do something special—definitely not an excuse to wear a new dress.
Word count: 700+
Disclaimer/s: flufffffff
A/N: Happy birthday to my only bf ever ^_^ I had such a shit day but Enya’s pedri edits are keeping me alive so shoutout Enny <3
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A frown grew on your face as you knocked on the closet door in Pedri’s bedroom. “Babe, can I come in yet? What is taking you so long!” You groan, letting your head drop to rest against the door.
“Give me second, I can’t get this bowtie right.” He grumbles from the other side.
You’d forced him to dress fancy, or at least nice. You had a whole night planned for the two of you, starting with a a dinner at a restaurant that was nearly impossible to get a reservation for. You’d pulled many strings to get one on his birthday, and you were not about to be late.
Plus, you had just bought a baby blue silk dress that looked gorgeous on you—by the way. You knew Pedri would love it, considering it was his favorite color—blue that is.
“Pedro, open the damn door. I will help you.”
A few moments pass before the door opens. Pedri’s eyes immediately drop to your face, then your dress, his mouth falling open slightly. He takes a step back, hand gripping the door as he takes you in.
“Cariño…” He groans, “you look..”
A prideful grin adorns your glossy lips. “You like?”
Pedri could scoff. Like? Shit, he was in love—woah. Woah. He hadn’t spoken those words yet. Swallowing hard, Pedri’s head shakes with light laughter. “I love it.” He says simply, his eyes shining with affection.
“Good, I bought it just for you.” A low hum leaves your lips as you reach your hands up to his neck, taking the bowtie in your hands.
While tying it carefully, you avoid Pedri’s hard stare. His eyes flicker across your face with the faintest smile, memorizing your concentrated face. “We should skip dinner, just stay in.”
You laugh, stopping when you look up to see his serious face. “Yeah—no. It took months just to reserve this spot. We are going.” Finishing up, you let your hands drop flat onto his chest. “Come on, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
Frowning, Pedri gives in. “Fine, only because you’re going above and beyond for a birthday, of all things.” His head dips down, eager and ready for a kiss, but your finger stops him.
Feeling his lips turn into a frown, you giggle. “Lip gloss.”
“Don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” You quip, “it can wait, no?”
“It’s my birthday. I want a kiss.” Pedri argues exasperatedly. His hand wrapping around your wrist to pull it away.
Your jaw drops, “this is manipulation!?”
“Don’t.” He smirks, “care.”
Rolling your eyes, you suck your teeth. “Fine. One.”
Still holding your wrist, Pedri leans down to greet your lips in one, long kiss. When he pulls away, you stifle a laugh. Your boyfriend’s lips are shining, glossy, and pulled into a shit-eating grin.
“How do I look?” He quirks an eyebrow.
You wriggle your wrist from his grasp, using your thumb to wipe the gloss off. “Like you just tried to eat my face off.”
“Maybe I am.”
Your head cocks to the side, giving him a look. “Funny. Now! Lets go!” Reaching for a stray towel, you wipe your thumb off before reaching for his hand again.
Pedri doesn’t budge, his eyes trailing your face and his eyebrows pinch together. Glancing back at him with concern, your brain starts to overthink.
“Hey, if you don’t want to go—“
“No, it’s not that.” He shakes his head adamantly. “It’s just..” He says your name tenderly, with so much underlying emotion you couldn’t even begin to think about what it meant. “I love you.”
Every ounce of worry leaves your body, your shoulders relax and a soft smile overtakes your face. “I love you, too.”
Pedri lets out a long, shaky breath. “Good, good. We can go now, I just.. I had to tell you.” He squeezes your hand, letting you take the lead out of his bedroom.
He’d wanted to say it in a more romantic setting, but seeing you in this dress, in this light, your quick whit, he couldn’t wait. And you were very pleased with it, it was small and simple, exactly how you’d wanted it to be.
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likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pedri posts.
ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl @unx100to @st4rgirl-ellie
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dekariosclan · 22 hours ago
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Thinking about God Gale again…(especially since you made a great point about how he still loves you as a god! Which is so good and SO ANGSTY!) You may or may not be able to answer this, but I’d love to hear your thoughts: do you think God Gale would give up his godhood to be with a mortal Tav again? Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?
As always: thank you for the wonderful meals about our boy 🙏 Dekarios the Divine bless you
OH DEAR GODS AN ANGSTY ASK
(ok, ok. I can do this. keep it together *hyperventilating into paper bag* just act normal goddamnit—)
Greetings fellow human! Hi! Thank you for this lovely ask, and rest assured that I am an extremely normal person who can totally handle emotional discussions about pixel people! NO I’M NOT CRYING—
Do I think God Gale would give up his godhood to be a mortal with Tav again?
Yes, I do—but only if he was able to be self-aware enough to realize that Godhood was not making him feel as happy or as content as Tav’s love did. Then his scholarly mind might finally begin to question what in the heavens he’d been thinking by giving that up just for ‘divine power’ which, as it turns out, really isn’t all that ‘divine.’
Would his love for Tav overcome his need for immortality and feeling like “he’s enough” as the God of Ambition?
The problem is that Godhood changes Gale (as it would change anyone) from a self-aware mortal to a divine being who can no longer relate to human experiences, including the passage of time. So while it’s confirmed that Gale still loves Tav, that love is now buried under weight of Gale’s hubris and godly ambitions, which would be very hard to overcome.
I know Raphael has the ending monologue where he predicts that Gale will eventually tear apart the pantheon, BUT, I personally don’t take that at face value as a guaranteed outcome. That speech reeks of sour grapes to me, and Raphael just being the smug bastard that we all know and love, so I think it’s less ‘Raphael’s Guaranteed Prediction’, and more ‘Raphael’s Fantasy Fanfiction’. Is it still possible? Sure, and I think if Gale did not romance Tav and did not get to experience their love then it is probably a more likely possibility.
But if Gale did romance Tav, then what I think is the tragic and more probable outcome is that Gale would eventually ‘wake up’ and realize that Godhood is not all that it’s cracked up to be, and decide to return home to Faerun and to Tav—but so much time has passed (and he did not realize it) that Tav and everyone he loved has now passed away.
AH GOD THE ANGST HURTS MY SPLEEN
But let’s focus on the GOOD outcome of him giving up Godhood and doing it in time to be with Tav again. It would be hard, and it would require Gale to REALLY overcome his insecurities and his pride, but I do think it is possible. Just looking at Gale’s ‘Godly Form’ you can see literal cracks in his exterior. He is not 100% unbreakable.
I still think at least a decent chunk of ‘human time’ would have to pass—we’ll say five years or so—before he would come to the realization.
And then one day (assuming Tav had not moved on and found new love) they would open their door, and—
“Hello,” Gale said, softly.
Tav blinked, for a moment trying to find their footing as their entire world spun out from under them.
“…Dekarios the Divine?” Tav asked, uncertainly. Gale’s clothes were simple robes, his skin no longer glowing with divine power. He looked almost as he had in Tav’s dreams, in all of their memories of when he’d still been a mortal.
Only this man’s eyes were much, much more tired. And filled with regret.
“No…I’m just plain old Gale Dekarios now. A most brilliant wizard of intentionally limited reknown.” He reached out, hesitantly, and took Tav’s hand in both of his.
For a moment they both stood silently, relishing the warmth of each other’s touch.
“Apologies. I hoped I’d be better at this.”
A smile was beginning to pull at Tav’s lips, even as their eyes filled. “At introductions?”
“At begging for your forgiveness.”
————— *One additional note: I simply must add that @lady-sapphyre wrote this excellent fic that tackles Gale giving up Godhood and I highly recommend it!
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anakinstwinklebunny · 14 hours ago
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hi diva!!!! i was wondering if you’ve seen the movie “secretary” 2002….iykyk..
there’s one scene where the main girl crawls towards her boss with some papers in her mouth…hear me out….that scene x stephen glass….
he can be the boss or the one crawling i don’t care! thank u, i love ur work
-💜
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TW: Stephen Glass lmao
Author's note: I am a diva again, slay. Welcome to the bunny's family beautiful anon, hope you'll enjoy it :33 also fun fact, I did literally the same thing with Clayton Beresford here
You stood awkwardly in the doorway, papers clutched in your hand, his email instructions still vivid in your mind:
'I need this report on my desk. No edits. Bring it to me in five minutes. Alone.'
STEPHEN GLASS was seated behind his desk, dark hair slightly disheveled, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. The soft scribbles of his pen writing on the paper was the only sound you could hear in the room.
“Close the door,” he said without looking up.
You did as you were told, the sound of the latch clicking shut sending a small shiver down your spine. You approached his desk, the papers trembling slightly in your hand.
But before you could set them down, Stephen’s eyes flicked up, pinning you in place as if you did something wrong
“Not like that,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair “i want you to bring them to my on your knees.”
Your breath caught.
Have you heard him properly?
“Excuse me?” you managed, though the slight quaver in your voice betrayed your attempt at defiance.
“You heard me,” he said softly, but there was nothing gentle about the look in his eyes. “Crawl to me.”
Heat flared in your cheeks, indignation and something else—something choking the air out of your lungs. You hesitated, but the way he was gazing at you was unbearable, stripping away every ounce of resistance until you finally sank to your knees.
The carpet scratched against your skin as you inched forward, the papers clutched tightly in your hand. Stephen’s smirk widened, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched you close the distance between you.
“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth - the one you imagined late at night when none was around. “Keep going.”
“Slower,” he murmured yet it was so commanding and firm you obeyed without much thoughts
Your palms pressed against the rough fibers of the floor while you inched forward, your head bowed, too nervous to look at his eyes. Each shuffle of your knees was deliberate, slow (just as he wished), and humiliatingly loud.
By the time you reached him, your heart was pounding, your breath shallow. You held the papers out to him, your arm trembling slightly.
But Stephen didn’t take them.
“Use your mouth,” his voice barely above a whisper.
His expression didn’t falter.
He was completely serious.
Swallowing hard, you hesitated for only a moment before you obeyed, clenching the papers between your teeth. Stephen’s gaze flicked to your lips, his lips quivering as he reached out, brushing his fingers against the edge of the paper as he took it from you.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfacting approval.
Your cheeks burned, your knees aching from the position, but there was something undeniably electrifying about him at the moment. The power he held over you, making you submit so easily.
“You’ll do anything I ask, won’t you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if he was on the edge of finishing something..
Your thighs clenched instinctively, a spark of heat shooting through you at his words. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer.
Your answer.
“Say it,” he demanded, his tone sharper now, leaving no room for hesitation.
“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible around the papers. “I’ll do anything.”
Stephen’s eyes glittered with satisfaction “Good.”
He set the papers down on his desk without a glance, his focus entirely on you. His hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your heart race, your entire body trembling under the weight of it.
“Now,” he said, his thumb brushing along your jawline in a touch that was as gentle as it was possessive, “let’s see just how far you’re willing to go.”
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