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youn9racha · 3 years

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I Know (Part II)

Pairing: Changbinxfem!reader

Genre: smut

Warning: mild stalking, stripping, phone sex???, mutual masturbation, semi-exhibitionism, a tiny bit of corruption kink, and an even tinier praise kink, switch!changbin, switch!reader

Words: 2.8k

Extra Notes: like I’ve mentioned in the last part, everyone is above the age of 21 (think senior year of college age), so thats that. I’ve also noticed that the lyric is not that related to the story, but oh well :’) anyways, hope you enjoy this

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

PLEASE READ PART 1 FIRST BEFORE THIS !!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

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Changbin’s calling me…

What in the world does he want to talk to me about in this ungodly hour? It wasn’t late, but it certainly wasn’t early enough for a call like this. I looked back at the window and I still see the curtains still closed, assuming he was out or maybe in another room. I answered and put the phone in my ear.

”Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n)! I just wanted to call to check up on you,” he said, “how are you?”

Damn, he only called for innocent intentions... Why is he so damn cute?! (y/n), you got two choices to respond back; you either respond give him a nice sweet response, or you give a sly yet friendly comeback. It can work—

“(y/n)?” The voice out of the phone took me out of my inner self’s debate.

“Yes! Yes! I am fine,” I said, embarrassed and mentally facepalming myself. This is not doing well, he already thinks I am a creep and a loser. Or maybe not, since its seems like I heard a faint chuckle and the word “cute,” followed by, but that could just be a figment of my imagination. “How are you?”

”Oh, I am good, just came back from hanging out with Chan and Han,“ changbin responded, there were shuffling in the background so he could be doing something while on the phone, but what is it? I wouldn’t know. I heard him and Chris mentioning a ‘Han’ in our conversation we had while preparing for my apartment, so that name is familiar, however the owner’s not. “You should meet him one day, I think you both will be good friends.”

”Woah there, you better take me to dinner first before I meet your friend,” I teased. Keep it going, (y/n), you’re on the right track, you’ve definitely caught him off guard, like you always do.

“Give me a place, time, and date, you’ll get that dinner, or maybe I’ll let Chris take you.” Changbin nonchalantly said, oozing confidence just by his voice. That bitch… Always makes it harder for me than it already is. As if he saw my blushing reaction, he began laughing.

“What’s wrong, princess? Cat’s got your tongue?” He said it in a low voice. Usually, I would gag if anyone—let alone a man—calls me princess, but with him, it felt different. It felt… arousing? No! No! (y/n), get a grip!

I rolled my eyes and laid on my back to be more comfortable, “What is it, Changbin?” I said, changing the subject, “What is that you wanted to call me at 10 p.m?” Yes, pretend like he didn’t just call you princess in the sexiest tone of voice you’ve ever heard. Totally would work.

”I told you, I just want to check up on you,“ he confessed but he also paused to say something further, “and also I am bored and I kinda felt like talking to you. I’m not wasting your time, aren’t I?” Although I couldn’t see him, he does however sound really sincere with his words. I don’t want to sound naive, but he sounded truthful.

“No,” I shook my head, “you really didn’t, besides I just got out the shower and was just scrolling through instagram.” I said, looking down in my nails.

”Oh, really?” He said, “were you going to sleep?”

”No, I stay on social media for a long period of time, I don’t sleep that easily“

”I see,” he said, but then he stopped talking. As the awkward silence has erupted between us, I started to think more about the first time I saw him and how I felt. While I thought it would be better for me to tell him later on and on person, but this balloon inside of me was getting bigger and bigger as guilt is inflating it. I sighed and started to speak, “Hey Changbin.”

”Yeah?”

“Can I confess you to something?”

”Tell me anything, doll, I’m all ears.”

Dammit! You’re not making it easier.

I bit my lips, “uhh,” I am glad he wasn’t looking at me, grimacing and slapping my head.

”You know hitting yourself isn’t gonna help,” as soon as Changbin uttered these words, my heart sank. My eyes widened as I got up and looked out window. His curtains were open, and it showcase a very, very pleasant show.

I see Changbin, sitting at the edge of his bed, facing me as his black shirt was fitting his form really well, especially with the semi-flexed arm that has his phone near his ears meanwhile the other arm was holding the elbow of the occupied arm. He was look at me straight at my eyes when we made eye contact, and fuck, was that an image to look at. As I looked like a deer going through a headlight, Changbin tilted his head in confusion, but he still had a smirk, “what is it you wanted to me?” he said through the phone.

”I-I“ I stuttered. At this point, I’ve lost all sense of dignity and my self thought, I am about to get called a creep by a good looking man I met not too long. Here goes nothing.

”I may have invaded your privacy,” I said, which caused Changbin to furrow his eyebrows in even more confusion, still having a slight smile to it. “What are you talking about?”

”Ugh, Changbin, I saw you half naked when apartment touring numerous times!” I yelled in frustration, as he kept pushing my button. I looked away, not bearing to look at him, as I closed my eyes out of guilt. “I understand if you don’t want to be friend, even though we met for only a week, but I just couldn’t bear the guilt that I—“

As I confessed, I heard a laugh coming put of the phone, I opened my eyes and looked at Changbin looking down, with shoulders shaking up and down. Now, I have the confused look that he had, “What’s funny?”

“Oh, princess, you have no idea,” He said, still looking down. Me still being bemused, he noticed my silence and looked up at my frowned face.

”I know…” He smirked, while my eyes were widened. Son of a bitch.

”W-wh-“

“I thought you knew that I’m doing all this on purpose, I’ve been trying to catch your attention every single way.” He leaned forward, placing both elbows in his knees, “I thought you were smart, only to be a gullible baby.” He whispered the last part, as I gulped at the last part. God damn, he’s so intense with his gaze. His eyes wandering all over me meanwhile maintaining a very dark yet exciting aura, which typically puts me off but now, I’ve never wanted to pounce a man so badly.

I smirked at him, the guilt I had had fizzled away, only to replace with arousal.

“So you’re not mad?” I looked at him, with innocent eyes, now laying on my side, facing him, as my robe slipped and exposed a part of my shoulder and the upper of my chest. He breathed in, as he was examining me, “no, why would I be mad at you?” He leaned back, as his head was thrown back, neck exposed, placing his free hand on the back of his neck.

God, is he so fine…

”I could never be mad at my precious baby.” He smiled a seductive smile at me, which made me riled up by rolling my eyes and looking up. “You like getting called that, don’t you?” He may have said it in a question form, but it didn’t feel like one, it was rather a statement than a question. “Hm,” I said, looking back at him, eyes half opened out of hunger for him.

We had an intense eye contact, where if it weren’t for the distant and the glass that is placed in front of us, we’d probably be all over each other.

”Has your hang out with Han and Chris worn you out?” I asked, decievingly innocent. Man, the power this man has over me is no joke. He scoffed, “so you’re just going to mention other men like that?”

Ignoring him, I got up, letting the towel that was loosely in my head fall onto my bed, and went closer to the window, “let me relieve you of your stress, if you don’t mind.” I shyly fidgeted on my robe belt. He looked at me up and down, licking his lips, “I wouldn’t mind, if you don’t as well.”

There’s nothing more sexier than mutual consent. (y/n), shut up, don’t ruin the moment.

I smiled and backed away from the window. I put my phone on speaker and put it on the side. I looked back at him, as I held onto my robe belt, he looked at me with a smile. I turned around with a slight sway on my hips, as I slowly undid my belt, slowly exposing my back at him, smiling as I heard a shuddering breath coming out of the phone.

As the robe completely fell off my body, being just in my underwear, exposing whatever secret flaws that has been hidden from the public. I silently gasp at the cool breeze as I held onto my chest, sensing my nipples getting hard. “Turn around for me, baby,” Changbin’s breathy voice echoed all over the room.

We may not be in the same room, and we maybe exposing ourselves to whoever is above and under us as well, but neither of us care. In our eyes, we only got each other, and we’re the only ones in existence.

I turned to him, letting go of my breasts and letting myself be bare, only to see him palming himself through his tight pants, groaning at his lack of full on skin-to-skin touch. It’s like he was waiting for me to tell him touch himself, which proved correct when he said, “please, let me touch myself.”

I smiled sympathetically, and also slightly astonishingly. I have never met a man with such switch like that. His dominating demeanor has faded and been replaced to a submissive cutie, which I obviously seem to admire very much. Pretending to thinking, I sat down, and looked at him, putting my hands behind me, “only if you give me a show too.”

I smirked at his state. He was disheveled, and adorned a beet tint all across his cheeks and nose. He looked beaten, but I loved it, and he does too. He put his phone on speaker too, quickly got up, and rapidly got his shirt.

“Ah ah!” I said, which caused him to freeze, looking at me, desparation was seeping through his eyes. Menacingly smiling, “slowly.”

Which he obeyed, surprisingly patient and sensual, I jokingly remarked that “he got dancer hips,” with the way he took off clothes while his hips moved in a way not many who can control their bodies can. He chuckle, “you should see how it works wonder,” his cocky attitude has made a comeback, which should piss me off but it made the whole thing hotter than it already is.

We’re both in our underwear, looking up at our eyes and looking down at each other’s half-nude bodies. Changbin wasn’t the tallest man I have ever met—not that it matters—, but he got many aspects that makes up for it, and its not just looks or personality. Just by the outline, I can tell that his little guy wasn’t little.

I propped myself with my elbows as I spread my legs, for him to see the wet spot that is stained in my underwear. He grunted at the sight, while I chuckle, “you like what you see?” I faux-innocently asked as I trailed my hand from my neck, making my head fall back, down to the valley of my chest, onto the waistband of my underwear.

“Fuck…” Changbin cursed, admiring the sight in front of him. He didn’t realize how lucky he was to see me in a state like this, not many have the privilege, especially not with men I met in a short amount of time.

I tugged my panties, took it off and exposed a part that he was dying to see, which caused him to gulp. He sighed with a smile, “god damn, (y/n),“ he shook his head in disbelie, “I’ve always thought you were gorgeous, but now I’m convinced you’re a goddess“

I giggle at his words, “and you, sir, are a demon disguised as a greek god” I teased back, tracing my two fingers around my lips, I noticed that he still was in his underwea. He still waited for my permission. How adorable.

”You can take off your underwear, Binnie” I didn’t even mean to give him the nickname, but I was too excited to even think straight. I looked at him, and saw him reveal his friend, and I gasped loudly, which made Changbin alert. “What? Whats wrong?”

”Nothing, its just,” I chuckle, “you have a nice dick.”

”Thank you,” He smirked as he sat down and looked at me, with full attention. I put my two fingers into my mouth, while maintaining eye contact. I then trailed my finger down to clit, which resulted in me letting out a blissful gasp. Meanwhile, Changbin was repositioning to a comfortable position as he began to touch himself, which caused him to let out a choked out groan.

”Binnie, as you touching yourself?” I half-whispered, but it was still loud enough for him hear along with my fingers movements that moved from my clit onto my slit, which made me moan.

”Ah-y-yes” Changbin groaned and nodded, as he was stroking his dick following the pace that I was going at.

After hearing Changbin’s groans, I began inserting my fingers at my slit, making me whimper in the process, “oh, fuck” I cursed, as I started to thrust my fingers in and out, noises coming out of my mouth along with the wetness of my pussy were getting louder, which excited Changbin, as his stroking was audible through the phone along with his beautiful groans.

“god, (y/n), if only I could touch you,” Changbin spoke through groans when he saw me fondling my breast and going faster. I was getting louder with my noises, in contrast of Changbin’s quite yet beautiful and audible noises. So much so, it sounds like Changbin was watching porn, rather than getting fucked at a distance.

“Ah-are-fuck-are you close?” Changbin asked through whines, his speech was getting difficult as he was getting closer to climax with his strokes going as fast as I was.

I nodded, out of struggle of speech, whining out, “Ah! Binnie!”

“Fuck, (y/n), I’m—“ Changbin grunted, as his strokes was started to get sloppy, he began to thrust onto his hands. I began to feel like something burning up in my stomach, moaning at the sensation, “Chang—I’m cummin— I’m cumming”

“Me too…” He choked on his words, as his groans and moans were also getting louder. Our phone voices combined was dirty but erotic, topped with the scene of two people masturbating to each other, now thats even a hotter view.

“Binnie!”

“Go ahead, baby... cum”

And just like that, I let out a squeal as I reached my peak, still playing with myself until I sensed an overstimulation. Not too long after, I was hearing a lot of grunt from the call and then I looked at Changbin, who ended up cumming onto his stomach, his chest raising up and down, letting himself catch his breath. Still out of breath, we both looked at each other, we both laughed at our fucked out state.

“Holy fuck, was that hot?” Changbin commented, taking the phone, putting it out of his speaker and back to his ear. I laughed at his sudden remark, nodding, “oh yeah, can’t wait to feel what you feel like,” I bit my lip.

”At least buy me dinner first,” He teased, referring to the remark I had at the time, which made me roll my eyes and him to chuckle. “You’re a dick,” I said.

”A big one, and a pretty one according to you,” He teased again. I started to jokingly groan at his words, causing him to laugh, “alright, alright, I’ll stop.”

I got up and picked the phone, looking at him, “I had fun, we should do this again,” him and I started exchanging a smile, this time it was more pure than the smiles we had earlier. He nodded, “for sure, but the next time is going to be in one of our beds, I really need to touch you.”

”The feeling is mutual.”

We began to talk a little more, until we both have felt that slumber was starting to sneak up onto our eyes. We both ultimately had to hang up, since we don’t want to raise our phone bills with our already long call. While facing away from the window, I couldn’t help but started admire Changbin in my head.

I typically hate men, but Changbin wasn’t just like any man.

He was Changbin, and I highly doubt that you’ll ever find a man like him.

#changbin fanfic #changbin scenarios #changbin smut #changbin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz smut

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zet-sway · 3 years

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Spiritual Shrios Summer Fill: Godless

PROMPT WORD: GODLESS | WORDS: ~1800

Rated: "G" - General Audiences AO3 Link: "The Frozen Sea" Pairing: Thane / FemShep Summary: The ocean licks at her knees - not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

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Shepard looks forward to being the first one up and awake.

Her cabin is suffocating. There are nights when she appreciates the privacy, but the silence of her isolated quarters makes her insides itch in an uncomfortable way. Just before the common area lighting begins to grow from the dim cadence of the night cycle, she leaves her room and greets the morning, intangible as only time on a starship can be. First she checks on the night crew, then starts coffee for Gardener. Finally, she makes her way down to the shuttle bay for PT. Alone.

It's unexpected when she has a visitor one quiet morning.

"Sere Krios," she says, rising from a deep stretch on the mat.

He smiles warmly, equally as surprised to see another soul at this hour. "Commander, good morning. And please, just Thane if you wouldn't mind."

Thane is the newest member of her crew and they've only spoken twice before. Maybe it shouldn't come as a surprise that he has his daily rituals as well, given his condition. He's dressed simply. Black pants, a sleeveless shirt, his defined, green chest exposed for all the world. Drell and humans share some attractive qualities. He's easy on the eyes.

She's staring, she realizes, and looks away. Thane takes his place on the mat and begins his own warm-up.

Day after day, he joins her, and they build a routine. Together, they begin with stiff, groggy stretches; then there's cardio, sweat, and strength training. Their conversations are light and technical. He respects her silence. She respects his discipline. On leg day, they limp back into the elevator in tandem. If she's lucky, she has time to join him and the crew for breakfast after her shower.

When she's alone, she quietly recalls how the light bends around the contours of his body.

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

He's there as usual when she steps off the elevator and into the shuttle bay. Fully armored, helmet under one arm, weapons holstered, but ready.

"Shepard. No training today?" He rises from his place on the mat where he's been exploring the human practice of yoga, per her suggestion. It suits him. Yoga is all about breathing.

"I was beginning to think you tired of my company."

She gives him a weary smile and shakes her head.

There's a new, abnormal tension between them and by his gaze she knows he feels it too. She likes Thane. She knows hardly a damn thing about him, but he's a comfortable presence, follows orders... doesn't ask intrusive questions. However, she's breaking their routine unexpectedly, and in the moment, his gaze is almost painful.

"Is there something I should know about Alchera?"

Okay, maybe he does ask intrusive questions.

His voice is a hot knife through her muddy thoughts. The detour to Alchera hadn't been on their flight plan, but somehow, he knows. Times like this, his eidetic memory puts her on edge. She asks herself how many other kernels of obscure knowledge are locked away in his mind.

Stepping up to prep the shuttle, she weighs the consequences of lying to his face. Only six people on the ship know where she's going and why, and she doesn't want to talk about it with any of them. The words are too hard to say out loud. This is where I died.

"Alliance HR," she says finally. A partial truth.

His brows rise and his posture straightens just a bit. "Human remains." Fuck if he isn't perceptive, but if he has questions, he keeps them to himself.

She nods once, happy to have stopped this conversation in its tracks. Then she changes the subject.

"PT tomorrow," she offers with a smile. "I can't be lifting without my spotter."

"Of course, Shepard. The pleasure is mine," he responds with an acknowledging nod. She feels bad for interrupting his training as he leaves on the elevator, but she doesn't want to face her team until her task is done.

Let's just get this over with.

Alone with her thoughts, she exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding and starts her pre-flight checklist.

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It's well past dinner when she comes to him. The doors at his back swish open and she stands quietly inside the threshold. A fistful of clinking metal dangles from her hand and he knows she's come to have the conversation she avoided earlier.

"Did I catch you at a good time?"

"You did," he says smoothly. "Was there something you wanted to discuss?"

She sits across from him and the metal spills from her fist. Dog tags. Twenty of them. Her gaze is fixed on them and she appears shrouded in a fog of thoughts.

"Did you know them?" The question is gentle, he's almost afraid to know the answer.

Shepard takes a deep breath and blinks slowly. "Yeah. They were my crew."

Thane can feel a chill, as though the icy surface of the planet is still clinging to her long after she's left it. "Your ship went down on Alchera?"

She nods.

"...and you were among them."

"Yes."

He realizes now why she brushed off his words earlier. It strikes him as odd that she would bring this to him instead of Garrus, Tali, Joker, or Chakwas. All of them served on that ship with her, although he isn't sure if they were on board during the attack. She chose him for this, maybe because he'd asked, unknowingly, down in the shuttle bay. Regardless, she's here now and he struggles to understand her needs.

Thane refocuses. There's a pile of dog tags before him and each one represents a human life, now in the arms of Kalahira.

"May I read them?"

She glances up at him then, surprised. "Won't you remember them forever?"

"I'd like to."

Her lips twitch just slightly in the most cautious of smiles, and she nods. "Knock yourself out," a quietly uttered and somehow charming human expression.

Thane picks up each tag one by one and passes his eyes over them. Every name, a life extinguished. Stories unfinished. Loved ones mourning for years without closure or a body to bury. Memories percolate in his mind and he pushes them back because now is not the time. For each name, he offers a silent prayer to the goddess for their eternal peace. When he finishes, the tags are a neat horizontal stack before them.

Hands folded, he looks at her. "I don't see your name."

It's less of a question and more of an observation, but she dips one hand into her shirt collar and produces a pair of clinking metal tags. They dangle from a new chain but the metal scorched and scuffed almost to a state of illegibility. One from the Alliance, the other from the Spectres. Her name is heavily embossed into each one.

SHEPARD DECEMBER HUMAN SYSTEMS ALLIANCE

His expression lifts and he smiles, hopeful. "You survived."

Shepard shakes her head. "I was spaced."

"But you must have-"

"No, Thane." Her tone is firm, unwavering. "I was spaced."

Her intense green eyes pierce through him. There's a twinge in her voice that makes his insides clench. "I read the data on Project Lazarus. I died."

It feels like the air has been sucked out of the room. Thane tries to control his features but her assertion shakes the very foundations of his faith. Many had said she died, but he'd always understood it as a metaphor - a near death experience.

He reaches into himself for calm and a memory rises, unbidden. "Jesus and Lazarus, from the Christian bible. '...I am the resurrection and the life.'"

"Kalahira..." he breathes. "Shepard, I didn't know."

She grunts out an ugly, short laugh and tears her eyes from his. "I can't believe you read the bible."

Her words fly past him without acknowledgement. He sees her as though through fogged glass, thoughts spinning. "Kalahira released you from the sea." When the words leave his mouth, they sound like irrefutable truth.

There's silence while she fidgets across from him, and then she asks, "Do humans go to the sea too?"

"We believe all life does."

He has a thought, then. "What do you believe, Shepard?

Her expression is mildly uncomfortable. "Before or after I died?" But then she shakes her head, reconsidering. "The universe is grand enough that maybe it is god's design. But I don't think god gives a damn about us. Agnostic, I guess." Shepard pauses and looks at him, but her eyes are distant. "Maybe I'd like to believe in your sea. Right now it feels easier to accept."

"To bring comfort in dark places is the purpose of spirituality. It does not matter what you believe as long as it brings you peace."

"Some humans would disagree with you."

Aware of the myriad of human religions and their conflicts, he brushes off her statement. "This is my truth. Their opinions don't concern me."

Shepard's gaze is searching, revealing the cracks in her armor, slivers of well-hidden vulnerability. "So I went to the sea. And now I'm back."

"If I am to accept what you say, I can offer no other conclusion." He doesn't ask what she remembers, he knows he might not like the answer.

"Then what am I now? Besides a soggy, undead cyborg?"

Her voice is laced with sarcasm but Thane thinks over her question carefully, aware he will be turning it over in his mind for days to come. Kalahira, Irikah, Siha, the gods and their angels, his lover and confidant, memories and oaths... regrets and comforts.

A heavy veil of epiphany descends on him, awestruck, painfully aware of his mortality, and prickling with a primal, deeply buried fear. Once human and now something in between, she is Commander Shepard, avatar of the Sea, chosen of Kalahira. The ocean licks at her knees not to claim her, but to mark her. 'One foot in the grave,' as the human adage goes.

The fist of tension in his gut calls to mind the image of Irikah's eyes in his scope all those years ago. I thought she was the goddess Arashu. But it's not Arashu who sits before him now, but Kalahira. Her icy breath howls across the inhospitable surface of Alchera, her unfathomable currents gathering those courageous enough to follow her into the abyss. How appropriate that she appeared just as he sought his demise in the Dantius Towers. She will be the one to ferry him into the unknown when they finally breach the relay. He prays she will be merciful.

Placing one hand over hers, Thane squeezes reassuringly. He doesn't linger, the gesture is as much for him as it is for her; he wants to know that she is real, as he finally answers her question.

'Then what am I now?'

"A woman with a purpose so great, the goddess herself answered the galaxy's cry for your return."

#spiritualshriossummer #thane krios #shrios #fshrios #zet writes things #december shepard #for now i'm calling the series 'approaching lightspeed' after a song i really like #spiritual shrios summer #this is one of several tricky conversations i need to write #and its probably the easiest one too so i have my work cut out for me x-x #TLDR shepard is a soggy undead cyborg

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

The Bet

Anonymous commission !!!!!!

Summary: It should have just been a quick win bet to let you finally get your fix of Revenant again. 'Become champion' shouldn't have been too hard, considering you'd nailed him and his squad before he could get you in the past. And yet, of course, Revenant wants to always win. And he will win, especially if it means you're up on the table for him to have. Or. In which you and Revenant have a FWB situation and he's been teasing you for weeks with no relief. So you come up with a bet to mutually solve your issues, totally set on winning. How hard could it be?

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog the fics u like!

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Revenant has a dick attachment, Reader is gender neutral and has a vulva, mentions of canon typical violence, relationship is shown more as FWB than romantic.

Words: 2.9k

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As far as anyone knew? Revenant was not a person who played well with others.

That was something he liked to keep up, a good face at that. He was good at growling out hate filled things of how pathetic a person was, mowing down people with a good hearty laugh about it, and making the cameras love him more and more. The Syndicate wanted to keep their little...falter under wraps. The fans all around thought him to be a ruthless killer with nothing but sadism and glee for it in his metal little heart- or rather, lack thereof. It drove them wild with excitement.

However, you knew better. You knew him in ways people couldn’t even fathom.

~Rest under the cut~

You knew of Revenant at his most vulnerable moments. To the way he didn’t immediately resort to violence if you so much as touched his shoulder, to the way he liked being under someone, to the way he squirmed under the lightest of brushes against a sensitive wire. You knew him to be sadistic as everyone else saw him, that may have been true, but what they didn’t get to see was him at his weakest points. Where weaponry was not needed besides a sharp tongue and painful wit.

No, you knew him on his knees, optics swirling with dangerous emotions as you cupped his cheek and told him what a good boy he was. You liked it that way too, that you were the only one who could see him like that. Of course, it wasn’t a strictly one on one relationship, nor was it a relationship at that. Friends with benefits wasn’t the right word either, not with the way he snarled his possession of you- even if he knew better than to stake a claim.

You were an addiction to him. An obsession. Revenant couldn’t get enough of you, and there was power behind that statement, wasn’t there?

The problem to that statement, however, was his want to tease. He wanted you as addicted to him as he was to you. One of his activities and games he liked to pull being making you forced to think about him. And what else better to make you do it than to limit your pleasures of his form? He’d thought it to be a brilliant idea.

You’d thought it to be infuriating.

But, in the end, it worked, so maybe he was in the right.

It starts as a little game, something you could have laughed at and brushed off. Your sponsors had wanted you paired up with someone different, your chemistry with Wattson and Octane was always something to be excited about. Revenant had been paired up with Caustic and Wraith for the next two weeks of the season. This wasn’t an issue, though you two worked well together, you often butted heads. The issue with this?

Revenant had no issues going solo. And he certainly had no issues antagonizing you throughout firefights.

Out of the corner of your eye you always seemed to see a black and orange lit figure nearby, lit much like the fresh spread of lava. The amber glowing eyes in the darkness out of the corner of your eye always made shivers run down your spine. You knew his totem only allowed him to go so far, but much like a ghost he’d appear and then disappear when you’d finally whip around to aim a gun his direction.

Wattson had taken note of your behavior and the callouts of ‘enemy’ being nearby and had paused your squad’s trek to ask if you were alright, if you needed to take a second. You felt like you looked paranoid, not to mention it was a distraction technique- the bastard.

But, hard to think you’re imagining things when not a minute later you’re lagging behind and feel a smooth metal hand trace up your side from behind, a presence lingering behind you. A snarl in your ear and the growl of a voice box, “I could have my way with you right here-”

But when you whip around and press your wingman into his chest and pull the trigger, only a dark laugh follows as he zips back to his totem.

Fucker.

The sudden gunshot gets your teammates attention in question, Octane throwing up his hands in a ‘what the fuck’ gesture to you to which you reply with a half shrug as you speak into the comm, “Shot a cargo bot, missed.”

Even with goggles and a mask he doesn’t look convinced.

It happens again and again and again. Revenant likes his games, especially likes it when you’re waiting for him at any turn with your gun ready and your haunches pulled up like a flighty cat. He waits, and waits, and waits until you’re alone or lagging behind before he seems to find you. It’s little things, just a touch, a whisper, almost like a ghost is haunting you and driving you up a wall.

A hand brushes your side promisingly, another squeezes your hip or ass, a gruff voice growling in your ear- nothing above a whisper to never let the comms hear, “What a delicious example you would make if I fucked you open in front of all these cameras.” Wattson caught him that time, having only seen him sneak up behind you before she fired her sentinel perfectly into him and over your shoulder.

Another day, another haunting touch up to your chest, a skim of metal digits up the front of your throat, “A pathetic little toy you’d make for my squad, don’t you agree?” Before you’d managed to whip around and shoot a bullet right between his eyes. Your aim was getting better, but it’s only met with a delighted snarl as his ghost zipped back to his totem.

Every day, for the next week, he avoids you. Well, almost avoids. Revenant catches you in the hall sometimes, but before you can grab him and demand something, he skims right past you with a brush and a grunt of amusement. He’s playing you- playing you like a damned mouse to his cat. His plan is working, you’re fired up, near desperate to have him do the things he promises. But, there was just one, teensy little thing.

In your relationship? Whatever it was? You didn’t give up control. You were comfortable in it, liking to make him your bitch essentially. You liked him on his knees, liked him sounding desperate, hell you’d like him saying ‘please’ if he wasn’t so stubborn.

And he was very, very stubborn about politeness like: ‘Thank you’s and ‘please’s.

So, for him to come at you saying things like that? That was...new. You figured he was taunting you, maybe trying to spur you on, so you try to call him out on his bluff the next time you see him.

And the next time you see him? You don’t let him walk past you.

You push him to a nearby wall, pent up on no sexual relief but even more pent up in irritation. Revenant’s face doesn’t move, no muscles to really pull anything, but he does look at you with a look that must be curiosity- or hunger.

“You think you’re so funny,” You start with a growl to your own tone. It would never be as impressive as his own, but it gets his attention well enough. The way he tilts his head only serves to make your eyes narrow, mocking the same movement with your own head. Your eyes flicker across his face, licking your lips and gnawing your bottom lip briefly. “Fine. You want to be a tease? Play ghost? I’ll play games too.”

You hear him grunt in amusement, his optics hypnotically seeming to spin with deeper shades of oranges. You wait for him to gain interest before you continue, your hand stays twisted in his scarf, keeping him to the wall. It’d been weeks since you’d last fucked, you almost demand it, but instead you huff in amusement back at him. “A bet.”

The word makes him perk like a cat, his metal skeletal fingers wrapping around your wrist idly as you wait for him. Your eyes flicker between his optics as Revenant makes a soft noise in his chest, something that would sound like a rumbling purr on a big cat in contentment. “And what...sort of bet did you have in mind?” He almost sounds like a cartoon super villain the way he purrs it out, his thumb idly stroking along your pulse point. A quiet threat.

“The next person to be the champion is the winner. If you win, you can top next time, do whatever you want to me,” You start slowly, you’d had time to think of giving up control, but even you weren’t so confident as it comes out of your mouth. Almost tight in your throat. But the way he snarls in his chest tells you that that interested him enough.

“And if I win- and I will win,” You begin again, tugging on his scarf to get his attention again. “You let me do whatever I want to you. Please and thank you’s included. You’ll be a good boy and do whatever I say. Do we have a deal?”

With too good of a bet on the table, of course he agrees. But, you know he’ll eat those words. He’ll be under your heel soon enough and give you that ‘please’ you’ve always dreamed of hearing. You’ve kicked his ass every round thus far with a bullet to the chest and the head.

This would be a piece of cake.

It was not a piece of cake.

It seemed the bet WAS really too good because his kill count racks up higher than you’ve ever seen it get. You don’t even place top three with your own squad, maybe fifth in line and watching with a growing, gnawing feeling in your stomach as he climbed the ranks. Each shot perfect, his want for blood seeming to mellow out with his need to win.

Revenant becomes the champion that round, and you hear very quickly from mutters of other legends that he’s refused to do interviews and let his squad handle that part.

It’s not a surprise to you when a hand snatches you and yanks you into the hall as you quickly speed walk to your bedroom. You yelp, regardless, as you’re dragged to someone else’s bedroom.

Revenant’s chest almost hums with his voice box rattling his inner systems with his dark laughter. He doesn’t even make it to the bed with you, slamming you to the door, a hand around your throat and his leg thrust between yours. You make a choked sound, face flushed, and your heart absolutely pounding in your chest.

There’s only a brief moment where he leans into you, growling in your ear, “You did mean what you said, yes? I’d hate to have your screams be of pain.” It’s...almost sweet the way he’s asking for consent- even if it’s quiet. It could sound like a threat, but you understand his quick hesitation. You weren’t-- you’d never been beneath him.

Your quick nodding doesn’t shake him into believing you, he hisses under his breath for you to say it so he can hear you and you quickly chirp like an eager bird, “Yes! Yes- yes, a bet is a bet- have me. Any way you want. S-same safe word I use for you if it’s too much.”

The process from there isn’t slow. You knew Revenant wouldn’t be one to take his time if he had you in his clutches, and only proven to you when in no time you’re being stripped. It’s a bit of a blur, the first few moments. Your brain tries to wrap around it and make sense of it. Metal fingers cruelly squeezing your chest and toying with your nipples, a hand yanking your hair and forcing your head back so you couldn’t watch, the sharpness of metal teeth at your throat- the desperation of yanking your clothing off.

You’re naked before you realize it, back against a soft bed rather than a wall. He’s fit between your legs, hovering over you much like a starved spider, tracing his fingers up your inner thighs and making you quiver from the sensation.

His laugh is fitting for the situation, low and dark and sending shivers up your spine, “Always giving punishment to me,” He begins, his voice deep and resonating throughout his chest with the reverberations of his voice box. “That’s what you call it, isn’t it? And yet, who knew you were punishing yourself...” His voice trails off, his palm resting atop your mound so his thumb can trace from your hole, up through your lower lips to your clit.

The sensation is beyond anything you’ve felt. Though Revenant’s digits are metal and ribbed to allow joint control, they don’t feel sharp nor like they’ll catch. A unique texture experience. You can’t help it when your hips lift up, a sharp exhale leaving your nose as he circles your clit.

Fuck, did he find lube somewhere or were you just this wet?

“Rev-” You start shakily, feeling two of his fingers tracing down through your slick and to your hole. One presses in, almost like a ribbed toy is the way you’d describe it. Your thigh muscle twitches as you resist clamping your legs down on his arm, instead resting a hand in your own hair to ground yourself as you whine.

“If only you let me do this sooner,” He murmurs as his finger presses deep inside of you- fuck it was long- curling just right and testing the waters before fitting a second inside of you. “Could have found what a little, needy bitch you were a lot sooner.”

You would kick him if he wasn’t right. Revenant’s pumping his wrist now, fucking you thoroughly with his two fingers, rendering you ineffective. You knew he wasn’t much for foreplay, but even you’re thankful he’s prepping you. You bite back a sound when a third finger is introduced, his thumb stroking your clit in time and making your inner walls contract in time with the way you sob out a swear.

In no time, his fingers move from you, wiped on your inner thigh unceremoniously. Bastard. But, he introduces your favorite part.

His cock attachment today was something you had picked out. It matched his plating appropriately, a black coloring with deep amber nodes framing the sides and glowing much like his eyes. It was thick, maybe about as thick as your wrist and seven inches long. The ribbed sensation on it made it uniquely shaped with a rounded head leaking the light red coloring of his lubricant reserves.

You throw an arm over your eyes and turn your head as one of his hands grabs your hip tightly, the other guiding his cock inside of you. You bite your bottom lip when Revenant growls, pushing inside of you in near one go with the help of stretching you and how his lubrication helped with the slide.

Your toes curl, pressing your heels into the backs of his leg’s plating, already feeling on edge. “Rev-” You start once more, your voice shaking as you lose focus.

A yank of your arm makes you whine, trying to tug it back, but his hand snatches your jaw and forces your head towards him. “Look into my eyes when I fuck you raw. Remember who you belong to.” He snarls, your eyes fluttering open near on command and meeting deep amber optics. They swirl hypnotically, a hint he’s recording this for his own database. Bastard.

But, you can’t find it in you to care. Letting him hold your jaw to keep you there, his thumb tracing your lower lip as his hips slam into you again and again. He’s always sensitive, he won’t last very long, and you were already on edge.

His pleasure is expressed through huffs and growls, his voice box mimicking a moan only to branch off into something static-filled as if losing connection on the phone. Choppy, echoing, and yet his optics never leave your half lidded eyes. Your lips are parted to express your own pleasures, eyes fluttering and near rolling back into your head as his hips slam into yours again and again. It’d bruise you, that much you knew, but you can’t find it in you to tell him to be gentler.

“Reven- Rev—cu-cumming, don’t stopdon’tstop-” Your voice shakes, edging off into a wail as you start to cum with jerks of your hips. His groan is music to your ears, a low sound reverberating in his chest as his back hunches inwards, looking ever so much like a spider as his hand slips from your jaw to wrap around your throat. He’s cumming with you, his cock jerking and emptying at least half his reserve in you.

You’re panting, dizzy and euphoric. A soft laugh leaves you, gently nudging at his chest, “Should- should have let you top earlier, huh?” You laugh playfully, breathy and unfocused.

“Who said I was done with you, little thing?” He snarls back at you, shoving you right back down onto the bed and crossing an arm over your upper chest to keep you down.

Revenant intended to milk out his winning. All night if he needed.

He intended to make you scream loud enough for the whole compound to know appropriately what this ‘thing’ was between you two.

That you were his.

#Revenant #Revenant x Reader #apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

7. Leshen Indruck your choice of rating!

Here you go! I went with SFW

It’s old wisdom that humans fear that which they do not understand.

Indrid really hoped he would never learn the truth of that wisdom the hard way, but here he is. One misplaced attempt at aiding someone using his foresight and he’s been caught, blindfolded, and dumped in the middle of the vast Monongahela Forest.

He just wanted to help.

His foresight renders him less fearful than he’d otherwise be; he’ll be able to see threats coming and locate the resources he needs. If he takes his time, he might be able to use his visions to locate the nearest (friendly) village. And, like anyone who grew up near the woods, he knows how to hunt, fish, and forage. For someone who’s been left to die, he’s rather confident.

Still, it sting a little.

After a few moments of rightfully-earned self-pity, he buttons up his coat and starts the slow, halting journey towards safety.

Two days later, he’s pushing his way through branches and miserably pointing out to himself again and again that a town where everyone grew up with basic forest survival skills would exile one of their own somewhere that required high-level survival skills.

The topography and scenery is so disorienting that he may have better luck if he covered his eyes, spun around ten times, and chose his path from there. It’s a dense landscape of deep greens and browns with splashes of bright color that he’d no doubt enjoy were he not constantly snagging on branches or catching his toes on roots.

Worse, he’s had no luck catching food, and cannot for the life of him locate water. The fact it rained last night is the only reason he’s not dangerously dehydrated.

A sharp, high chirp draws his eye to the foot of a tree. Flapping sparsely feathered wings, a baby bird hops through the mud, her nest visible but unreachable. A meager meal, but a meal nonetheless.

Indrid scoops her into his palms, clambers into the lowest crook of the tree, and sets her back among her siblings.

His stomach chastises him the rest of the day, though the rest of his body rejoices when he finds a hollow in the base of a tree large enough for him to shelter within. From within the trunk, he spies vine sprawling across the ground, berries glinting in the light rain. Deep purple, meaning they’re Brambleberries.

The handful he shoves into his mouth brings tears to his eyes, even though they’re not the ripest. How else do you explain the bitterness chasing the sweetness down his throat.

Wait. Brambleberries don’t go purple until mid-summer. This is early spring. Which means those were-

“Chokeberries.” He curses himself, darting outside the tree once more, finger down his throat until his meal comes back up. Maybe he was fast enough.

His throat tightens in a prelude to closing. Sinking to his knees, gasping for air, he swears the ground vibrates with heavy steps. His eyes flutter close as he falls forward. As darkness slips over his eyes, he thinks it’s taking him a long time to hit the ground.

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

Bitter metal on his tongue.

“Nnnnf” Eyes still shut, he pushes at whatever is holding the spoon and it’s vile contents in his mouth.

“None of that. You’re gonna need two more doses of this before that Chokeberry is outta your system, and they were hard enough to get into you when you were passed out. Swallow.”

He swallows.

A large hand pats his head, “There we go. I know, shit’s gross, but if you were fool enough to eat those berries, might stun some sense into you.”

Indrid sits up, rubbing his eyes, “I was delirious with hunger, forgive me for not remembering the exact seasons of fruits. Did you heal me only to insult me or-” his visions flicker back full force, revealing his host before he opens his eyes. He scrambles back, but instead of a wall or an edge he just finds a vast expanse of bed.

Watching him with an amused set to his lips is a man three heads taller and much bulkier than Indrid, dark hair streaked with grey-green moss, eyes the dark green of pine needles, and nails like treebark. He crosses arms tattooed with green, gold, and bronze swirls, waiting for Indrid to collect himself.

“A Leshen.”

“Yep.”

“Are...are you going to eat me?”

“What? No, I’m not gonna fuckin eat you. I don’t know which of my kind chowed down on humans but if I ever find out I’m gonna give ‘im a piece of my mind. Ain’t great to have people thinkin I’m a man-eater when the worst I done is throw a tree at someone.”

“That is still very alarming.”

The Leshen shrugs “I’m a forest guardian; I’m gonna guard.”

Indrid studies him, wary, drawing the covers up his chest without noticing.

“Look” the Leshen sighs, “I ain’t tryin to scare you. Hell, made myself the smallest I can so I could be all comfortin. Noticed you in the woods earlier today and kept an eye on you, since humans-”

“Don’t often come here, yes, I am aware. I was extremely, forcibly exiled into your part of the woods.”

Green eyes blink, “Huh. Well, point is it didn’t seem right to leave you there to die, so I brought you here. Chokeberry is real easy to undo, assumin you got the right herbs.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t know what else to say. His foresight tells him the Leshens promise of no harm is true, but there are so many timelines for what he could say and how his host could respond that he freezes.

“You’re welcome. You got a name?”

“Indrid.”

“You oughta rest up more, Indrid. I’ll be back with the next dose in a bit.” His host steps out to the hall.

“Wait, do I, ah, get to know your name?”

“Duck.”

He snickers, replies to the raised eyebrow with, “Apologies, I expected something tree-related.”

Duck smiles, “It’s a nickname.”

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

“What’s your plan?” Duck asks from across the breakfast table. The morning found Indrid well enough to walk and to eat without feeling ill, so he’s been perching awkwardly on a chair that’s too big for him as the Leshen makes plates of toast and eggs that don't come from any bird Indrid is familiar with.

“I, ah, I don’t really have one other than ‘avoid going home’.”

“You were just gonna wander around until you found a village? I hate to tell you this, but there ain’t one for at least fifty miles, and I’m guessin that’s the one you came from. They must’ve used and enter to navigate here, because this part of the woods is hostile to travel by design.”

“Yours?” Indrid sips his tea, face to hide his distaste for its bitterness.

“Yep.” Duck slides a jar over to him, it’s copper lid revealing sugar cubes within, “Don’t much feel like runnin into humans every damn day, and it means that even as y’all sprawl out more and more, there are parts of this wood that stay wild.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it does little to improve my situation. Unless…” he bites his lip.

“Unless?”

“Unless I could stay here. I’m not bad company, and I have some skills which could-”

“No” Duck shakes his head, “savin you is one thing, takin you on as a roommate is all whole other kettle of fish.”

“Ah. Right. Of course.” He sips his tea, reflection crestfallen. Maybe he’ll just finish this and then go back to sleep.

Duck sighs, expression one of someone who already regrets the offer he’s about to make, “You can stay here for a month. After that, I’ll get you as close to a safe village as I can, and you’re on your own. Deal?”

Indrid grins, appetite returning in full, “Deal.”

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

Duck has a good guess as to what’s making all the scratching and clanging in his kitchen, but it’s still a surprise to see Indrid moving from counters to chairs doubling as stools to tend a pot that he can barely peer into.

The human’s gotten nimble over the last week and a half, thanks to his routine attempts to help Duck around the house. Everything is scaled to Duck’s smallest possible form, but that still leaves Indrid at a disadvantage.

He’d be more inclined to help him if it wasn’t so obvious that his help is a ploy to convince Duck to let him stay. Look, he feels bad for the guy, but humans don’t have a great track record with his kind and he generally likes his peace and quiet out in the woods. He also notices that, left to his own devices, Indrid is messy. The area around the couch he uses as a bed is strewn drawings and unfolded clothes that Duck conjured up. Which means this is about Ducks favor, not a commitment to household cleanliness.

That’s not to say having Indrid around has been unpleasant; the human is good company but also understands Ducks' need for space. He’s odd, and even though the foresight was the given reason, Duck suspects his fellow villagers would have found reason to exile him regardless. Indrid even said that living with Duck was the happiest he’d felt in some time. That wasn’t a ploy; Indrid is prone to saying unnerving statements without registering them. Thorns pricked Duck’s heart when he heard it and, that night, when Indrid fell asleep on the bed during their conversation about deer, he didn’t move him. Just brushed the white hair from his eyes and laid down a respectful distance away.

“Oh! We’re in the timeline when you’re early.” Indrid waves distractedly as he wrestles open a jar, “I checked on you during the day through my visions and it looked as though you got drenched, so I thought something warm was in order.”

He’s smiling, and Duck’s gaze lingers long enough to see there’s no trickery in it. Yeah, being a forest spirit means storms are refreshing more than freezing, but the one today was so relentless he felt like it was eroding him away.

“Thanks, Indrid. I’ll join you in a sec.”

The next morning, before he leaves he forms some nearby stumps into a proper step-stool, and transmogrifies the minerals of the earth into a solid set of human sized pots and pans.

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

“I know you’re there, Duck. I may not have eyes in the trees, but I do have visions that tell me when someone is dithering about coming to speak with me.” Indrid smiles, checking the fishing pole he’s dug into the shore. He feels rather than hears Duck approach; in spite of his size, the Leshen moves through the woods more softly than a butterfly.

“Guess those visions do make you harder to spy on than the average human.”

“A not at all creepy statement.” Indrid teases, then tips over when Duck playfully shoves him.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s alright” he brushes off his arm, “the sand is nice and warm.” He picks up his sketchbook (stray pieces of paper sewn together) and pens (Duck turned flowers, fruit, leaves, and wood into them until Indrid had every color) and continues drawing. Half the reason he likes fishing is that he can draw futures (and for his own pleasure) while he does it. The other half is that he doesn’t want Duck to view him as a parasite in his home. Yes, for the first week, he did everything he could to demonstrate that he would make an excellent addition to the house made of twisting trunks and mossy floors.

Now, though, he just wants to enjoy his time with Duck, even if that means not tidying constantly or cooking every meal. He hopes Duck enjoys it too, regardless of whether he lets Indrid stay. The Leshen is lonely, even if it only comes through on those days when his voice is like the wind through a weather-beaten log. Indrid wishes he knew how to assuage it, but a month is not long enough to learn such things.

He’s slept in Duck’s bed these last three nights. It’s not purposeful, Duck is just so interesting to talk with and Indrid will lose sight of the time, will slump sideways and mumble that he ought to turn in, and then wake up in the early hours atop his host. It didn’t occur to him until this morning that Duck does that to keep Indrid from being uncomfortably squashed by his larger bedmate. And that Duck chooses to do that rather than carry Indrid to his own bed.

“Hey, uh, ‘Drid?” Duck’s voice brings him back to the riverside, “would you, uh, wanna come with me on my rounds sometimes? Might be some nice things to draw, and that foresight of yours could be real helpful with some of the stuff I need to keep an eye on.”

His host looks nervous until Indrid nods, “I would be honored.”

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

Never has the folding of clothes made him so miserable. Yet still he tucks the garments into the large-but-manageable rucksack Duck gave him, placing his sketchpad safely between the layers of fabric.

“Weather oughta be good tomorrow.” His visions show Duck behind him, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s going to miss that voice, the way leaves rustle underneath the drawl.

“That’s good.” He pulls the ties on his rucksack, sets at the end of the couch but doesn’t turn around.

“I’d, uh, say you’re welcome to visit but, uh, well, you know how fuckin hard this place is to find.”

“Mmmm.” Indrid wants him to go, wants him to be brusque or happy, not awkwardly fond in a way that gives false hope of shared affection.

“‘Drid there’s, there’s somethin I wanna, that is I’m thinkin...aw, fuck it.”

Indrid yelps as arms nearly as big around as he is scoop him up. Duck’s lifted him to examine flowers or see over trees, but the hugging is new.

“Duck?” Carefully, he drapes his arms over his shoulders.

“Don’t go.”

“I don’t want to.” Duck always smells faintly of pine needles and green wood, and Indrid buries his face in his neck, inhaling in hopes of remembering it forever.

“Then stay. I changed my mind, ‘Drid, life is so much better with you around.”

“Okay” Indrid can’t get his voice above a whisper; this wasn’t in the timelines, which means Duck changed his mind at the literal last moment.

“Really? You wanna stay?” Duck shifts him back, Indrid functionally sitting on his forearm with his legs half wrapped around his chest.

The seer summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so closes his eyes before going in for a kiss. His lips find Duck’s cheek until a firm hand cups the back of his head, guiding their mouths together. At this size, their mouths are compatible even as Indrid remains pleasantly dwarfed. Duck breaks the kiss first but Indrid, hell-bent on making up for lost time, continues kissing his face until they’re both laughing.

Duck kisses his forehead, “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #monster march #reader requests #leshen

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theartisticintrovert · 4 years

Text

Case #0130403

Statement of Jason Gale, regarding the strange occurrences surrounding Daniel Fenton. Original statement given 3rd April, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

I wanna start this by saying that I barely knew Danny. I don’t know how he became what he is, but what I did see, well...I still have nightmares. I guess I should start at the beginning, though I’m not really sure how much of a beginning there is.

I never had the greatest home life. Pretty textbook, really. Shitty dad, dead mom, bad friends, the works. I ran away when I was fourteen, fell in with a real bad crowd. I’d been in and out of juvie every few months, but I didn’t meet Danny until I was sixteen. I’d been picked up at the scene of a robbery, don’t even remember where, and sent off to Amity Youth Detention Center. I’d been there for about three months when my old cellmate got released, so I was on my own for a bit. I didn’t mind, D Block wasn’t exactly the worst it could get.

Danny transferred in a few weeks later. At first, I didn’t think much of him. He was tiny, barely 5’4 I think, and he looked like a twig. His eyes, though.....his eyes were what scared me the most. They looked dead, like someone sucked all the life outta him, just leaving his corpse walkin’ around like some kinda zombie. They sent him in and he just.....stared, watching Officer McCarthy leave like he was already planning the poor bastard’s funeral. I freaked out a little. I’m not ashamed, kid was fuckin’ scary.

That’s when it happened. It’s like something snapped in him. The room got all cold, and the lights started flickering. He shoved me up against the wall and I dunno how but it felt like this.....predator staring at me. I don’t even remember what he said, but I just agreed to whatever it was so he’d stop staring at me. I swear his eyes were green, but it had to just be a trick of the light. It had to be, because I remember they were blue. I remember, because I remember thinking how weird it was for an Asian kid to have blue eyes.

Still, when he got mad......I swear to you, they were green.

Sorry, I got a little.....off track there. There were a few more weird things about him, but just little things. He never ate, and I know it wasn’t that he was eating when I couldn’t see him. AYDC has scheduled meal times for every block, and every single time it was D’s turn he just....stayed in bed. There’s no getting in or out once the door’s locked, so he wasn’t sneaking around. And yet, even after about a week and a half of this, he was fine. No complaining, no hunger pains, not even a little bit of nausea. Like.....like he didn’t need food. I asked him about it, but the answer, well.....I think he was a bit nutty. Everyone was in there.

I managed to get him into the cafeteria one time, though not for very long. I think Emily, that is, Emily Grey, scared him off, but I can’t be sure. I do remember though, that the others felt it too. Danny was.....he had this like, aura of despair. Like you get near him, and nothing you do will make you feel again. Owen Coulter said he “felt like depression, if depression was a person”. I only remember that because it was so strange to hear a twelve year old say that with the knowledge that only an old man has, but there it was anyway.

He got transferred a few days later, or....I assume he was transferred, anyway. I heard he’d finally gotten his trial, but he didn’t come back after. I can only assume they sent him to F, because I didn’t see him for several months after that. I’d honestly just been starting to feel okay again when he came back to D. I only really noticed him because we were in the yard at the same time, and something in me wanted to turn around and bolt the second I spotted him. Still, he seemed.....different. Less angry, less......snappish. I noticed a few new scars on him too, which was strange just because the inmates at AYDC aren’t allowed any electronics, so how the hell did he get electrocution scars?

The next big one happened after he was released. He’d been out for about a week when I got a visitor. This was news to me, since my old man doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me and my friends wouldn’t be caught dead in a juvie visitation room. Only visitors I really got were my lawyer and sometimes my stepmom, but she didn’t come often. She doesn’t like me much, but that’s beside the point. When I saw Danny on the other side of that glass window, I about turned around right there. Unfortunately for me, the door was already shut and I couldn’t get anyone to open it, not from my side. Fuckin’ bastards probably stepped out for a donut break, who knows. The point is, Danny was....different.

His scars curled up both of his cheeks now, pale and prominent against his sickly brown skin. His eyes seemed a little sharper now, a little more aware. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a good thing. We argued a bit, but....I think he was genuinely trying to help. I didn’t trust him a damn bit, but at least he was trying.

I’ve been dancing around the point long enough, I think. Sure, the kid’s weird, you’re thinking. He’s got scars, so what? He makes you miserable just being around him? Probably some emo bastard. The whole predator gaze? Well, he was in for assault. No, the thing I’ve been avoiding, the thing that I’ll never forget....it was his ghost.

Way back when we were still bunkmates, he’d told me about how he died. How his parents were some kind of Ghostbuster freaks, and they built a portal to Hell in his basement. Okay, well, he called it the “Ghost Zone”, but who gives a fuck, honestly. Then he told me he was stupid enough to go in the damn thing, and got zapped six ways to Sunday. He said he’d died in that portal, and I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t. When you die, you die. That’s it. Game over. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The idea that he could be some sort of.....half-alive, half-dead.....thing, well....I didn’t want to think about it. I’d already come to terms with my own mortality, and I did not need it shoved back in my face by some freaky-ass kid.

But then he showed me. God, it was horrible. I was expecting him to fail, just the delusions of his poor fucked up scrambled brains, some side effect of getting zapped to hell and back. Maybe, if it were true, to just go a bit translucent. I didn’t expect the monster.

It came in a flash of light. Two sparking rings of bright white electricity, so bright they burned to look at. When I managed to blink the spots outta my eyes, I almost thought I’d hit my head. Where Danny had been standing, a floating, glowing thing stood in his place. It was pale, washed out, with only its acid green eyes and tongue giving it any color at all. It wore a jumpsuit of some sort, with thick gloves and attached boots, like the biohazard guys on TV. It still had the scars though, even if they were glowing an ominous neon green. It hissed at me, like it was trying to speak, but I didn’t understand a word it said. When it turned that empty, hungry gaze on me, I panicked. I shoved it back against the wall, where it connected with a sickening splat. Blood oozed on the concrete, or at least, I assume it was blood. It was red and green and sizzled, like it was eating away at the stone. I think there’s still marks there, where the acid ate away at the concrete.

The thing wanted to eat me, I’m sure of it, but it seemed too dizzy. I think shoving it only made it more angry, but at that point the light came back. I looked away just in time, and when the light died down Danny was back. Still scrawny, still fleshy, still alive. Only now, I wasn’t so sure.

I haven’t seen another ghost since, and I think it’s for the best. I’ve done my research, I’ve heard about these....mediums. I know I can’t see them, not on this plane. Honestly, I’m better off for it I think. I don’t want to see them, or hear them, or even think about them again.

I didn’t give you this statement to have you do something about it. I don’t even know if you have the ability to do anything, since all this happened in Illinois. I didn’t come all the way to some dingy spooky library in fucking London for a solution. I’ve made my peace. I just.....I needed to tell somebody. Not the cops, I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them. And not anyone else either, they’d think I’m a schizo freak, like that Weston kid. No, I’m perfectly happy laying low, and never thinking about Daniel Fenton again. And now that I have this off my chest and stored away in your freaky little library, I finally can.

Statement ends. Although he said he didn’t want us to do anything about his experience, we did reach out to Mr. Gale. He replied in no uncertain terms for us to leave him alone, and that he absolutely would not be giving a follow-up statement. I....can’t say I blame him, but really, half-dead? A teenager that could turn into some paranormal entity? It all seems rather....far fetched.

Still, we did do some basic follow-up research on what we could. The Fentons do exist, as well as the town of Amity Park. I’d like to take everything about said town with a hefty dose of salt however, as it claims to be “The Most Haunted Place in America”. Tourist trap nonsense, if you ask me. Daniel Fenton was arrested in late summer of 2010, though those records are obviously sealed. Emily Grey declined to give a follow-up statement as well, and Owen Coulter seems to have unfortunately passed away in the intervening years.

Still, I can’t help but think that Mr. Gale’s statement is....unusually detailed, especially as it concerns a boy he himself claims to have no close connection to.

End recording.

#the magnus archives #tma #danny phantom #pavii #ty writes #i had to get this out of my brain

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midnightlie · 5 years

Text

title: the first to the last (kiss fic #8) pairing: keith/lance notes: we made it into s8 territory fellas. in which keith has a plan.

So. Keith had these...plans.

A lot of it was typical stuff. Small stuff. Like, he had plans to read this long list of romance novels he’d accumulated over the course of the past year. He had plans to ask Hunk for a few cooking pointers since he was kinda rusty when it came to variety in the kitchen. He had plans to fix up his old hoverbike after one of the gears busted, to repaint it, to gift it to Acxa, who seemed fond of the thing. He had plans to go through his old belongings in that long-forgotten shed in the middle of the desert, to clean it out and take what he needed, to leave what he didn’t.

But...there were some big plans, too. Huge plans.

Like: taking Lance to Cuba.

Like: having a very important conversation with Lance’s mother, about a very important, very top secret question he wanted to ask.

Like: asking Lance this question.

He didn’t have everything figured out, but he wasn’t really worried about that. Keith had never really been the type of guy to make plans. Impulse and reckless abandon were more his speed, but he’d learned that he was capable of a lot of things he never knew he could be, after Lance.

Like: gentleness.

Like: loving someone, and being loved in return.

Like: making plans.

It is easy, to want to do these things. Lance, with his thousand watt smile and his adorably tousled hair, turns his big blue, sparkly baby-i-love-ya eyes on him and that’s it. He doesn’t even have to ask. Keith just—wants.

But as a paladin of Voltron, and a ranking officer in the Garrison - as a soldier - plans are always subject to change. Which is how Keith found himself in the middle of space with a new set of plans. They are much less about Lance, which sucks, and much more about finally putting an end to this god forsaken war they’d all been dragged into.

Most of the time, they are dangerous, too. So, despite the separated missions, the orders from high officers on the ATLAS, the risk of death hanging over their heads every damn day, Keith’s first and only priority is making sure that he comes back to Lance, every time, no matter what. There is little else to fight for, if not for this future he sees so clearly behind closed eyelids. Every night, he dreams of waking up in a house near the beach, smothered beneath a sleepy, heartfelt boy who wears a ring on his third finger and a dog as big as a horse, lined in the gold of the morning sunshine, dust motes twinkling like stars.

They’ll get there someday.

That’s the plan, at least.

Keith pulls away from those thoughts as the black lion’s jaw hinges open and he steps into the hangar. It’s kind of late - he was due back hours ago from a simple mission to pick up supplies on a nearby planet, but there had been complications and well—

The wind is suddenly knocked out of him as a flash of blue barrels into his chest and collapses on top of him as he hits the floor. He doesn’t have any time at all to recover because Lance is there, pressing harried kisses into the screen of his visor, hands gripping fiercely at Keith’s shoulders as he crouches over him, unforgiving in his crowding presence, though Keith remains totally unbothered by the close proximity.

“Lance,” he laughs, one arm pinned by Lance’s knee, the other reaching up to grab at the his waist. “Lance—“

Lance doesn’t even pause, expression a total blur, as he rips the helmet off Keith’s head and then leans in desperately, hands cupping Keith’s face firmly as he presses his mouth against his. The hand on Lance’s waist curls, applying more pressure and snaking an armored arm around as Keith struggles to free his other arm. His eyes flutter shut, groaning as heat explodes under the collar of his high-necked flight suit when Lance licks his bottom lip aggressively and bites down.

Lance seems to approve of that sound, his knees sliding further apart in a wide straddle as he melts to rest the majority weight on top of Keith, freeing the trapped arm. His hands stay near Keith’s face, brushing away the spill of dark hair around his ears and holding the strong line of his jaw. Keith gathers him closer as he reaches up with his other arm now to grip the back of Lance’s neck, eagerly returning the kiss with scrunched eyebrows and a starburst of pleasure burning low in his belly.

After a moment, Lance separates their mouths with a humid pant against Keith’s lips for air, but he dazedly pulls Lance back down with another groan, a part of him going absolutely wild when Lance responds with a whimper caught in the back of his throat. His mouth is hot and wet, opening easily to Keith, welcoming the attention, drowning in it, the pliant lines of his body begging for it.

Mindful of the hard plating of his paladin armor, Keith rolls them to settle his weight over Lance, hips resting in the cradle of his thighs, and that’s when he loses himself. For a long while, they lay there tangled up on the metal floor, kissing like they’ll never get another chance. Lance’s arms end up around Keith’s neck, hands buried in his hair as he lets Keith ravish him into a drunken mess of unsteady heartbeats and sweet little gasps of pleasure.

Once he feels mostly satisfied, Keith pulls back slightly, only enough to admire the way Lance’s eyes flutter open, low-lidded and dark, parted mouth shiny and red and perfect. He’s gorgeous all the time, but there’s something especially wonderful about a Lance that is looking up at him with a greedy sort of expression, like he can’t stand the space between them and is thinking about asking for less of it.

“You’re late,” Lance murmurs breathlessly, thighs bracketing Keith’s hips firmly in an attempt to keep him close.

Keith runs his gloved hand through the wild ends of Lance’s hair with as much gentleness he can before curling his fingers and kissing the delicate line of Lance’s eyebrow. “Sorry,” he says softly.

“Your comm went out.”

“There was a storm on my way back.”

“You can’t do that to me.” Lance’s expression clouds over and there’s a crack in his voice. “You can’t—you can’t—“

Keith leans down and kisses him quiet for a long, sweet moment. Lance slides his hands from Keith’s hair down the curve of the armor on his chest and then down to his waist with a sigh, holding him there as though to steady himself. Keith separates after he’s sure he’s eliminated that fragile thing in Lance’s voice, nosing his way down to then kiss his jaw.

“How was your assignment?” Keith asks against his skin.

“Sucked,” Lance whispers into the ridge of Keith’s eyebrow. “Missed you, Keith.”

Keith kisses up to his ear. “You came back safe.”

“Had to. I promised.”

That makes Keith warm on the inside. He leans back to smile down at Lance. “Thank you.”

Lance responds by sticking out his tongue. “Maybe you should take a page out of my book.”

Keith scoffs and reaches down, inching his gloved hand under Lance’s T-shirt, wishing that it was bare so that he could feel the the heat of his skin against his palm. “I came back safe, too.”

He’s rewarded with narrowed eyes and a shiver from the gentle touches on his rib cage. “Babe, you were late. I lost, like, ten years of my life tonight waiting on you to show up. You’re just lucky you did, or I’d have to kick your—ah.” His eyes flutter as Keith runs the hand back down his side, and dips his fingers just barely beneath the waistband of his pants, shifting the weight of his hips. Lance tilts his head back, arching into the touch, and Keith can’t help himself when he leans down and opens his mouth against the delicious skin of Lance’s throat.

“I’m always gonna come back to you, Lance,” Keith tells him. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“I know,” Lance says, breath heavy as he smiles. “You still gotta make an honest man out of me.”

Keith chuckles and presses one last kiss into his skin before pulling away and sitting back on his knees. “Who said I was ever gonna do that?”

Lance props himself up on his elbows and he looks—Jesus, he’s cute. His hair is mussed, mouth still bright, bitten-red, eyes glittering with equal parts mirth and exaggerated outrage. His shirt has been pushed up, exposing a pretty stretch of a lean, brown stomach, his legs parted obscenely wide and open on either side of Keith. He wants to lean back in and press Lance into the floor, the hunger and the heat low in his belly wild with desire.

“I know you wanna marry me, Keith,” Lance accuses playfully, pointing a finger in Keith’s direction, eyebrows sharp over his pretty blue eyes. “Someday, I’ll get you to admit to it. Mark my words.”

Keith flashes him a toothy grin, thinking about Cuba, about Lance’s family, about that one little question. He thinks that Lance says that stuff to tease him, says it because he knows that they’re in love and it’s the real kind, the forever kind. Thinks that Lance doesn’t really expect it to happen any time soon. They’re still young, but Keith already knows he’s never going to want anyone else. It’s always been Lance, it always will be Lance, from the first to the last.

A blush rises into the crest of Lance’s cheeks as he pulls his hand back and then pushes up into a sitting position. He reaches towards Keith and cups his face in his hands, squishing his cheeks. “Stop looking at me like that, Kogane, my poor heart can’t take it.”

Keith can feel how soft he is, how Lance’s flustered little statement only makes him softer. He circles Lance’s wrists with his fingers and pulls his hands away so that he can kiss Lance’s palms reverently.

Lance stares and groans, cheeks growing more ruddy by the second. “Babyyyy.”

“I need to report in to Shiro,” Keith whispers, kissing up Lance’s arm slowly as he leans in. “And then I need to get something to eat.” His mouth presses just above the crook of Lance’s elbow. “And get out of this armor.” Lance’s bicep. “And take a shower.” His shoulder. “And then,” —his throat— “I think we should go to bed.”

Lance drops his head to the side and shudders through a breathless laugh, basking in the attention. “I’ll do anything you want if it means me getting up off this floor.”

“You attacked me.” Keith kisses his cheek.

“Maybe, but you flattened me like a steam roller when you flipped us over.” Kisses Lance’s lovely mouth, watches as Lance’s eyes flutter again when he lingers.

“You weren’t complaining.” Keith draws back slightly and smirks.

Lance grins crookedly. “No, I really, really wasn’t.”

Keith laughs at that and then finally makes it back to his feet, pulling Lance up after him. Immediately, because he can’t help himself, he leans in for another kiss, and then another, a little zip of pleasure lighting up his spine when Lance leans into him and makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“I have a question to ask you,” Keith whispers between their mouths.

Lance hums, half-gone. “Lay it on me, pretty boy.”

Keith, distantly, thinks about Cuba, thinks about Lance’s family. Thinks about the war, and how close they are to the end and how he wants to do this the right way, because that’s what Lance deserves. He cups Lance’s face and kisses him with a little more pressure. “It can wait.”

He meets no resistance. “Okay.” A sigh, sweet and light. “Okay.”

Maybe they stand there kissing for another ten minutes before Lance is finally able to break the spell and drag Keith out the hangar by the hand, flushed and starry-eyed, scolding him for being so damn insatiable.

Maybe that had been a part of Keith’s plan, too.

#klance #taylor writes things #kl fic #twily #HOW BOUT THAT #i havent posted a kiss fic since early january LOL

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hyperionswrath--archived · 4 years

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@onepartbrave

“Don’t do this” and “don’t do that” or “slow down, will ya”. Seifer surely was throwing a lot of unnecessary orders around tonight. Usually, Squall would scoff and ignore every word the foolish man uttered, but somewhere along the line… he acknowledged the guy wasn’t so foolish anymore and he’d never not ever listened, anyway. Although, he was clueless on what he’d done to offend the blond this time around and the puzzled expression brewing on his face conveyed such.

Doesn’t matter. Hungry,

The only problem he had with drinking so much in quick succession was substituting his balance for mind-numbing bliss. As such, Seifer had to help him stay standing. Again. Noting the grunt of discomfort, remorse washed through him at realising he’d leaned on the bad shoulder (the one he took a bullet for you in, remember?) and a repentant expression came to life on his face. He was glad how quickly he’d removed his anchoring grip and was about to voice a genuine apology since meeting the man yesterday when… the feeling of hands upon his own person stopped it short.

The point of being touched wasn’t the issue—he had just used Seifer for leverage… but where.

“Um…” the brunet faltered intelligently, already feeling a relentless rush of heat flooding to his face. Undoubtedly if he’d been in better lighting, a magnificent blush would be marring his pale complexion. Now it wasn’t to say he disliked being touched in such a manner but this was Seifer, his rival (and main influence) from childhood, the guy he’d fought off against in a war for the fate of the world and the man who’d constantly wormed his way underneath his skin just for a reaction. The predicament didn’t feel like the aforementioned; it was a complete accident if the blond’s mortified reaction was any indication, so why was he still thinking on it so much?

…Alcohol. It’s gotta be the alcohol. …Right?

Disturbed by his lack of certitude in those thoughts, Squall fell into stark silence. Trying to work through his jumbled state of mind when inebriated wasn’t working and he was distracted. So much when Seifer legitimately took his hand for assistance, he nearly plummeted back down. Huffing lightly with the effort of keeping himself upright, his concentration was instantly diverted to his… also drunk companion and, vaguely, he considered the drink being responsible again. It seemed plausible…

Jerked forward after Seifer’s claim of getting him back inside, it took all of Squall’s focus to not trip over his own feet after the few starting steps forward. Gaining some equilibrium when the other’s arm looped around him, he instinctively returned the gesture and strengthened the temporary bond between them to prevent one of them unceremoniously faceplanting. Licking dry lips, he furrowed his brow as he fixated on returning to their table calmly, drawing the least amount of attention to them as possible. A random recollection of getting guided out of an establishment in the past for being too wasted was a real threat.

Thankfully, both his and Seifer’s aims were true and, with aid, Squall made it back to their booth alongside the blond. Releasing the man only when the table was in reach, he spotted another fresh bottle of rum waiting for him and… hesitated. Tentative thoughts about being too much hassle if getting more plastered lingered at the forefront of his mind and he’d already caused Seifer so much grief…

Clumsily, he crawled back to his previous seat and sat down in front of his cooling meal. Hunger pangs made themselves known but an absurd sensation in his chest made his stomach clench from tension and he wasn’t certain he wanted to test his earlier statement. “…Think I’ll have water instead,” he admitted with mild embarrassment lacing his tone, gently shoving the (fortunately) unopened bottle away from his person. “Don’t wanna be ‘nmore trouble.”

Feeling admonished though none had berated him, Squall quietly tucked back into the food graciously provided for him. While cooler, the taste was still divine, and his rumbling belly was eternally grateful to finally be filled with something more substantial than coffee. The next time a member of staff ventured near, he requested that predicted water, too. It’d help in the long run, he guessed; he didn’t want to spar with a hangover from hell. And he still had some confounding thoughts to mull over, too.

Well, it should be common knowledge by now that Seifer Almasy was and had always been a character to command people around so his dazed mind peppered a little irritation into whatever it was that was going on with him right now. Not enough to overshadow the twinge of embarrassment that had hit him, though. Not that he was in any way, shape, or form shy to touch people. Or grope them. But usually, that happened with consent, in another setting than this weird flailing of limbs and most importantly, it didn't happen with Squall. Not that he'd never imagined it, mind you.

Absolutely not willing to dwell on this mishap and definitely intending to brush it off without so much as a pointed clearing of his throat, he proceeded to stand up and take care of the stumbling mess that was his former rival. Huh. The feel of the smaller, warm from against his side was kind of nice? And he totally didn't squeeze his arm around the brunet's waist a little to pull him in closer, nope. Even if so, the cold outside was to blame, not that the walking icicle (or, rather, former?) would be of much help to warm him up anyways. "Damn, I really gotta teach you how'ta drink properly too, ain't I?", he muttered considering they hadn't been in the pub for that long, and Squall was already wasted beyond repair it seemed. Better get some food in him and maybe steer clear of more alcohol, at least for another hour or so. Once again it benefited him to be taller and more muscular than the brunet so the alcohol needed longer to work through his system.

That way he was at least able to work against the worst of Squall's swaying and stumbling, pausing their steps ever so often to help steadying the man again until they finally reached their table and thus, safety again. Waiting to see if he needed to help his companion sit down he watched the other slide back into his place, not looking too fresh. No wonder, he mused, the guy has had more than one bottle of rum. At least he seemed to have come to the same conclusion as the blond, seeing that he didn't reach for the third bottle, the second having fallen down and left outside, just like his cigarettes which he hadn't noticed yet.

Old habits died hard so he had to bite his tongue and swallow the taunting 'wuss' that wanted to snake out next and instead settle for "Good choice." Maybe he should get some water too, let this night last a little longer. Not quite as clumsy as Squall but definitely not as graceful as before, Seifer slumped back onto the bench, pausing a moment to look over the delicious goods waiting for them, then zoning in on the potato wedges. He grunted his disapproval at the fact they where still sitting right before the brunet’s nose and thus he slid over to sit next to Squall so he could pull the platter with the remaining wedges closer, letting it sit between them and taking one, popping it into his mouth. "You've always been a pain'n the ass, don' worry.", he smirked, not bothering to swallow his mouthful while talking.

Leaning back and stretching his arms over the backrest, completely unaware of course of the fact his right arm lay behind the brunet now, his eyes darted to the strangely flushed face. The guy wasn't going to get sick on him, was he? As the waitress came to see what the two troublemakers were up to, he decided on a glass of water too, shooting his prince-charming-grin at her. "An' could'ya bring us some of that super delish bread?" Delish. Did he just say that? Frowning briefly, he shrugged, reaching for another wedge as the woman made her way back to procure their order, seemingly unfazed by the two men. Which was probably true since the pub was close to the Glaives HQ and thus visited for some boozing often. Not as much as the King's Pearl, but still.

Seifer then turned his attention back to the guy next to him, wanting to study that slightly red tint on his cheeks to make sense of it. All those years and the man was still none short of handsome. Pretty even. What the fuck, Almasy, pull yourself together! Crinkling his nose his left hand brushed through his hair, a gesture he had mostly abandoned and was surprised to be acting out now. "You wanna spar'n the Headquarters, or the plains?", he questioned after a while of silently eating, nodding his thanks as the waitress brought their water and a basket of steaming bread infused with herbs and butter, the delicious smell wafting over to them.

#onepartbrave #rp #.oh here we go #.have fun with smitten seifer #.pray he doesn't find out he can make squall blush..............#long post

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verus-veritas · 5 years

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Antonio

A very well-written story by “Collan” on Male Transformation Blogspot. He really knows how to draw you in. /Verus

"Give those back!" shouted a whiny, boyish voice. "You can't do this! It isn't fair! You have no right!"

The early morning sun felt warm and soothing on my bare torso as I stood by the side of the path near the old wooden picnic tables at the far edge of the park. My right arm was raised in the air, holding a small device and a pair of glasses in my hand, well out of reach of the much smaller boy who had shouted at me. We were both seniors in high school, but he looked years younger than I did, and even though I was already naturally tall, he was so short that I towered over him by almost a foot.

"Give what back, Georgie? These?" I asked nonchalantly with a false expression of concern on my face. I reached up with my left hand to pluck the glasses from my right and examined them briefly with a look of mild pity. "Shame you're so terribly blind without these. I suppose it would be too cruel to leave you here without them. Here you go." I said, and with an expert flick of the wrist tossed them far over his head to land in the still-wet grass behind him.

I took a moment to marvel at the dexterity in my left hand as I watched Georgie track the arc of his glasses to see where they landed. His short, pudgy body scuttled across the grass to retrieve them, and he dried them off with the hem of his overlarge t-shirt before putting them back on and then turning to glare at me in fury.

"You fucking bastard! You ‘know’ what I mean! That's ‘my’ body! Give it back, or I'll..."

"Or you'll what?" I interrupted, with a tone of quiet condescension in my newly low baritone. "What will you do, Georgie?"

"Stop calling me that! ‘I'm’ Antonio, you little faggot!" The anger on his face looked oddly out of place on his rounded features. The expression just didn't work on him.

"Little faggot?" I asked him dangerously as I felt a surge of anger rush through me. In the immediacy of the moment, I hadn't really allowed myself yet to settle into his mind, and the emotion caught me off guard. Damn, but this boy had anger issues, and testosterone to spare to fuel it. It almost overwhelmed me for a moment, but I managed to rein it in.

Still keeping the device out of his reach, I moved towards him with a little bit of a strut and an evil grin playing about my lips. I loved the way this body language felt so natural already. God, I wished I could see myself from the outside right now. I was probably sexy as fuck. Oh well, I had plenty of time for that later. I needed to stay focused on playing out this inevitable little drama and get it over with.

"You might want to calm down a little, Georgie. You're starting to make a scene. You sound a little crazy there. ‘I'm’ Antonio and ‘you're’ Georgie. ‘I'm’ the tall, sexy Italian stud and ‘you're’ the fat little nerd. Just look at yourself-" I said with a note of disgust. "How could anyone confuse ‘that’ with ‘this’?"

I deliberately teased him and pretended to give him the opening I knew he'd be looking for, lowering my arm and using the hand that held the device to gesture first to him, then to me. Right on cue, he made an attempt to try and grab for the device, but my reflexes were far too fast for him, and I whipped it instantly out of reach again. I knew he could never match me physically, since of course I knew his body's capabilities, or the lack thereof really, far too well. It was truly a miracle I'd managed to pull this off at all, but the reward was definitely all the pain and suffering that had led up to it. I realized I was starting to drift mentally again and brought myself back to the moment.

"Ah, ah, ah." I said and wagged my finger at him as if scolding a small child. "No grabbing for things that aren't yours or you'll have to go in time out!"

He shook his head as if to clear it and pressed his palms to his temples in frustration. "God, this is some kind of nightmare! It has to be!"

The opening was too good to pass up and I took it. "Yes, Georgie, it ‘is’ a nightmare, and I'm guessing it's just going to get worse for you."

"How? How can it get worse?" he almost whimpered, as unbidden and unwanted tears started to fill his eyes. God, I was so glad I had left that uncontrollable urge to cry behind! It was time to take the gloves off, push all his buttons, and make him start to see the agony that I had endured at his hands.

"Because," I replied, lowering my voice further so there was no chance of accidentally being overheard, "I can see that what is starting to happen to me is starting to happen to you too."

"But what do you mean? None of this makes any sense!" he cried, sitting back down at the picnic table and burying his face in his arms.

"It will soon. Very soon now," I said. "You'll know it all shortly, so it's time to drop the pretense."

That caught his attention. He lifted his tear-stained face to look at me, and I almost laughed as he realized his crying had smudged his glasses again, and he had to take them off, clean them, then put them back on again to see me clearly.

"What I mean is this. Thanks to this little device here," and I brandished it briefly as I continued, "I jumped my consciousness into you, and because we were both touching it when I pushed the button, you've retained your own consciousness and are aware of the switch. And let me tell you, setting this up and pulling it off was a total bitch. Letting you torment me every Saturday morning for weeks so that when the time came, you wouldn't think it was strange that I was sitting here waiting for you. Practicing maneuvering myself so that I could click this little button while we were both touching the device at the same time. With your size, strength, and speed against mine it could have gone wrong at any moment, but it didn't, thank god."

He was looking at me incredulously, his mouth hanging open, but no words came out of his mouth.

"I could have just taken you over from a distance," I went on, "and you would have turned into Georgie with no memory of ever having been Antonio. But I couldn't have that. You ‘had’ to know. You ‘have’ to know! To fully ‘know’ the suffering I've endured for years because of you! And you will!" My temper had risen again, stronger this time, and I was startled by the sudden violent urge I had to lash out and hit. Something, anything, him! This ‘thing’ in front of me that had made my life a misery for so long!

"But it's not possible!" he protested.

His statement surprised a bark of laughter out of me and broke through the growing anger. I shook my head in amazement. "How can you say that when you're sitting there in that pathetic body? Really ‘look’ at yourself, well, your ‘new’ self." I chuckled, but then grew serious. I began to direct him verbally, knowing from his crying moments before that his new emotions were beginning to take hold of him and an urge, a hunger, to obey me, to be dominated by me, his fantasy man, was lurking just under the surface.

"Look at your small, plump hands," I told him. "Look at your pale, pale skin. Feel the limp, thin hair on your head. Feel the paunch at your belly. Look... Feel... Touch... Touch your bicep and flex it. Not much there to flex, is there? Now how can you say this isn't possible?" My voice had fallen into an almost mesmeric cadence that I wasn't aware I was capable of. A vaguely erotic thrill rose in me at the thought of the control I was wielding, as I watched my nemesis examine my former body, following every direction I gave him almost without thought.

When I finished, he hugged his arms to his body tightly and started to tremble as if it were the dead of winter instead of a beautiful late spring day. I suddenly realized what was coming and jumped back in time, noticing in passing how much farther back I had jumped than I had expected to and how easy it had been. He turned towards me and vomited, heaving violently into the grass where I had just been standing. I waited while he emptied the contents of his stomach out onto the ground in front of him.

"What's happening to me? I feel like I'm losing all control of myself. Why are you doing this?" he asked hoarsely while he continued to cough and spit to clear his mouth as his sickness subsided.

I started walking towards the next table over, and I knew he would follow. It was as much to get away from the puddle of puke in the grass as to give him the opportunity to rinse his mouth out at the nearby water fountain. I wanted him paying attention to me, not the foul taste in his mouth.

I pointed him to the fountain, then continued. "What's happening to you is that you're in my body just as I'm in yours. I didn't expect you to blow chunks like that, but I guess if I had gone from this to that with no warning, I'd be pretty repulsed too. Plus I'm sure the pile of greasy sausages I ate for breakfast didn't help. I do love the taste, but they always do a number on my stomach. Well, ‘your’ stomach now. A little welcome gift from me to you." I snickered, and he glared again as he finished rinsing his mouth out at the fountain.

"You're also starting to feel my mind, just like I'm starting to feel yours. The emotions are beginning to make themselves known, and the memories will start filtering in after that. As the integration accelerates, you'll start living on my autopilot essentially. You'll still be aware of having been Antonio, but your speech patterns, your body language, your emotional reactions, your wants and loves and hates and fears will all be Georgie. ‘You’ will be Georgie. You ‘are’ Georgie. That's what's happening to you. And ‘I’... ‘I’ will be Antonio.”

Source: “Caption This!” 14/06/2014

#bodyswap #bully #revenge #racial #maletransformationblog

350 notes · View notes

taetaespeaches · 5 years

Text

“Were you eye fucking me?”

Namjoon x Reader

Word count: 4.5K

a/n: Finally I’m back with a scenario. This is part 2 of “We believe you. We believe that you think you’re just friends” which was sort of but not really requested here but is totally the reason I wrote a part 2. I hope you babes enjoy it. This time the other members are involved so that’s always fun. As always, thank you so much for reading!

You stared down at your phone, mindlessly watching the timeline as your finger dragged up on the screen. Tapping your foot impatiently, your eyes bounced from the phone to the man sitting across the studio from you, and back to the phone.

Glancing at the time at the top of the screen, you sighed when you realized it had been about thirty minutes since you arrived at the RKive, and you and Namjoon had hardly spoken. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for your first time seeing Namjoon since you returned to Seoul. You hadn’t seen him in a week, and you both definitely hadn’t talked about the topic that had been weighing on both of your minds since you left Ilsan.

After you left the café with Namjoon and his sister in Ilsan where you both clarified you were more than friends, you both held hands, flirted a little bit more than usual, his family cracked a few more jokes and comments about the nature of your relationship, and you returned to Seoul, moving right back into your normal lives.

A few texts were shared between you both and one facetime call which was very quickly crashed by Taehyung, but that was it.

You figured this hangout in Joon’s studio would be the time to discuss what happened in Ilsan, but as you sat on his sofa while he worked on his computer, you were losing hope that he would ever initiate the desperately needed conversation. Maybe you had to be the one to push him to talk.

Just as you were gathering the courage to break the silence and bring up the topic of your relationship, a huff sounded from across the studio. With eyebrows raised, you waited for your best friend (plus more) to voice any further signs of frustration. “Joon?” You called out apprehensively.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked with his back to you, still facing the computer monitor. As you opened your mouth to ask him to elaborate, he cut you off before you could even start. “We’re not just friends.” With that statement, your heart started to race, and the pace only picked up even more when he turned around to look at you, frustration clearly written across his features, his forehead creased and eyes focused.

As soon as he brought up the topic, you froze. You both sat in silence, staring at each other as the tension in the room increased and your heart was nearly thumping out of your chest. After what seemed like an eternity of quiet, Namjoon sighed. “How are we supposed to act now? We’ve been avoiding it for a week and that’s not working for me.”

“It’s not working for me either,” you interjected quickly, finally finding your voice.

“Ok, so what happens next, I mean, how do we act now?” Namjoon asked you nervously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t want everything to change between us.”

“But things have changed,” he raised his voice slightly.

“I know that,” you said quietly, looking down to your feet to avoid his gaze.

“Hey,” Namjoon said gently, making you lift your gaze just slightly to meet his eyes. “You’ve been my best friend for years. I don’t want that to change. But things are definitely different, right?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you assured, straightening your posture as he stared intensely at you, his orbs scanning your features.

“So, what happens next?” Namjoon asked you, his gaze setting on your lips for a moment before it met your eyes. The intensity in his eyes did not go unnoticed by you, and neither did the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed while staring at your lips.

“Maybe you should ask me out on a date already,” you teased, his obvious desire for you giving you the confidence you needed to push the boundaries of your friendship.

As shock flashed over Namjoon’s features, you bit your bottom lip, attempting to hold back a smirk. A blush graced Joon’s cheeks, his dimples appearing as he covered a shy smile with his hand. A bashful chuckle escaped his lips as he nodded. “Ok,” he lowered his hand. “That would probably be a good start,” he smiled, his eyes turning to crescents. A smirk was sitting proudly upon your face, basking in your ability to turn your handsome best friend into a bundle of adorable shyness. “Alright,” he let out a deep breath. “Would you like to go out with me?”

“Mmm, depends,” you teased with the same proud smirk. Namjoon’s jaw dropped for a split second before he flashed a close-mouthed grin at you.

“Wow,” he chuckled. “Ok, depends on what?” He played along, knowing damn well you were going out with him no matter what, but he still felt nervous as he waited for your next words.

“On whether or not you ask me out like you mean it,” you teased before returning your attention to your phone. A mixture of a scoff and a chuckle left Namjoon’s lips.

“Ok, I’m done with you,” he teased back, turning around in his chair to click a few things on his monitor. As soon as he turned around, your giggles were echoing throughout the studio, bringing a big stupid grin to his face. “I can’t even focus on work anymore,” he sighed in defeat, although very amused by the interaction between you both. “Want to go back to the dorm?” He instinctively asked, as that was the usual course of events when you hung out in his studio. However, you were still feeling flirty, and you didn’t want your interaction to simply go back to normal once you left the studio.

“Wow, Joon,” you started, making him look to you expectantly as he stood up to leave. “Inviting me over to your place before you even take me on a date? What exactly are your intentions?” You flashed an innocent doe-eyed look, though a smirk was toying on your lips, daring him to make the next move.

Namjoon was stunned for a moment, looking at you with wide eyes. However, a smirk slowly spread across his face, his dimples getting deeper and more prominent. Despite the blush on the apples of his cheeks, he played along. “Does that mean you’re not coming back to the dorms with me, Babe?” Babe. He’s called you that a million times before, but now the circumstances were different. And it caused your body to flush with heat and excitement.

Now it was your turn to feel bashful. “N-no,” you stuttered. “I’m coming,” you said almost desperately, causing Namjoon’s smirk to change from playful to straight up cocky. “For the snacks,” you said quickly. “I’m starving, and you guys always have the best snacks,” you justified, trying to recover.

“Mhmm,” he nodded knowingly as he walked right past you to the door, holding it open for you. As you walked past him to exit the studio, his arm wrapped around your midriff, stopping you for a moment. “For the snacks, of course,” he whispered near your ear, goosebumps immediately littering your skin. He then slowly dragged his hand across your abdomen, causing your knees to slightly buckle, before his touch was completely removed from you. He smiled proudly, watching as you straightened your wobbly body and walked ahead of him out of the studio.

The trip back to the dorm was normal… if it’s normal for every slight touch or glance with your best friend to ignite a crazy amount of sexual tension. Stepping inside the dorm, you made a bee line to the kitchen, digging around for something to eat. Yeah, maybe cereal wasn’t going to fix your hunger for Namjoon, but dammit, you were going to try. As you dug into a box of cereal, Namjoon checked around the dorm for any of the members. Upon finding no one, he followed you into the kitchen, smiling fondly at the sight of you, standing with your back to him as you faced the counter, arm deep in a box of Apple Jacks.

Jumping slightly at the feeling of Namjoon’s hands on your waist, you quickly relaxed into the touch. With his lips against your ear, his breath sent chills across your skin. “Babe,” he whispered, the affectionate name causing your heart to race. “Will you do me the honor of going out with me? Please? Let me take you out.”

Gathering yourself after nearly melting into a puddle at his fucking voice directly in your ear like that, you turned your head to catch a glimpse of his face in your eye line. “Depends,” you whispered, making him drop his head against your shoulder as he chuckled at your response.

His breathy laughter hit your sensitive neck, your knees buckling just slightly. “Depends on what?” He practically whined into the crook of your neck, the whole situation feeling so new and intimate, but comforting and familiar. Dropping the box of cereal onto the counter, you allowed yourself to be immersed in the feeling of Namjoon.

“On what you have planned,” you smiled as you brought your hand up to snake your fingers into his soft tendrils. Namjoon’s hands squeezed your waist as he scoffed against your neck.

“I guess you’ll find out tomorrow night. On our date,” he told you, making you smile bashfully. “You little brat.”

“Brat?” You feigned offense, dropping your hand out of his hair to cross over your chest.

“Yes,” his hands gripped you harder as he straightened his body and turned you around so he was hovering over you, chest to chest, pressing you against the kitchen counter. Fuck, has he always been this sexy? “Brat,” he whispered, close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your lips. Your arms uncrossed so your hands could grab his forearms, trying to ground yourself as your heart raced in excitement.

As his lips met yours in the slightest touch, the feeling light and barely there, he halted, pulling back just the slightest. “Be mine,” he said, his lips feathering over your own, and just then, the front door slammed open, the voices of an excited maknae line filling the dorm.

Namjoon tore away from you as he ripped the fridge open, pretending to look for something as you grabbed the box of cereal, trying to appear nonchalant as you shoved a handful of the breakfast food into your mouth. Be mine. Be mine? How the fuck does one appear nonchalant after Kim Namjoon just asked you to be his?

When Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin strode into the kitchen, they immediately picked up on the tense atmosphere. “Hey,” Jungkook greeted tentatively. “Long time no see,” he told you.

“It’s only been a week Guk,” you said with a small giggle. Jungkook nodded.

“Yeah, but you two are always together, so that’s a long time.”

“You guys just get back from the studio?” Jimin interrupted, acting slightly less apprehensive than the younger man. You looked over at Namjoon waiting for him to answer, however, he remained silent as he pretended to search for something in the fridge.

“Uh yeah, about five minutes ago,” you said, Namjoon’s head still shoved in the fridge… like a fucking idiot, you thought.

“How did it go, Hyung?” Jimin asked Namjoon. Taehyung could definitely feel the tension, but he decided to ignore it as he made his way to you, shoving his hand in the box of Apple Jacks. You looked down at the box and just handed it to Taehyung, making him smile happily at you.

“Uh, good,” Namjoon said quickly, giving no details. At least he spoke, but was this idiot of yours ever going to pull his head out of the damn fridge?

“Joon, are you even getting the milk?” You asked in an attempt to help him out while simultaneously telling him to get out of the fucking fridge, dude.

“Huh?” He asked, popping his head out with the cutest look of confusion written across his face. You gestured to the box in Tae’s hands with a soft smile, unable to control your fondness of him. “Oh, milk. Right,” he grabbed the milk carton, FINALLY closing the fridge, and making his way to the cupboard to get you a bowl, your eyes following him.

“Hey, get me one too,” Taehyung told Namjoon.

“Well we just got back from recording,” Jimin told Namjoon. “We’re going to watch a movie in the living room with some takeout if you want to join us.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon pretended to think, as he reached up to grab a bowl, your eyes raking over his figure as he did so. You took in the expanse of his back, biting your lip at the sight. “Maybe,” he told Jimin as he snuck a glance at you, to which you smirked. Your eyes followed Namjoon as he made his way to the drawer to retrieve a spoon.

Taehyung pulled his eyebrows together at the strange glance and smirk exchange you and Joon just had. “Uh,” he started, looking from you back to Namjoon. “Hey, can you get me a bowl, Hyung?” He asked again. Jungkook and Jimin watched in confusion as Namjoon completely ignored Taehyung.

Stepping towards you, Namjoon took the cereal box out of Taehyung’s hands, causing Tae to immediately pout, and poured a good amount into the bowl before handing the box back to Taehyung. “Hey,” Taehyung whined. You both ignored him, or not so much ignored as you simply did not hear him, as Namjoon poured some milk into the bowl before giving the bowl to you. Handing you the spoon with a loving smile, you returned his smile with one of your own.

Just as you took a bite of the cereal, your eyes still glued to Namjoon who still stood in front of you, Taehyung huffed. “Jesus, is an eye fucking a requirement to get a bowl of cereal from you?” Taehyung asked with a glare set on his features as you nearly choked on your bite of cereal.

Jungkook and Jimin snickered at the scene in front of them while you and Namjoon avoided each other’s gazes, both of your cheeks heating crimson.

Suddenly, Jimin truly took in what Taehyung said and realized what Taehyung was seeing between you and Namjoon. “Wait, are you two together?” Jimin asked wide-eyed.

“What?” Jungkook blurted out in shock.

“Eye fucking?” Jin’s voice suddenly sounded throughout the kitchen. “And thanks for helping me haul up the takeout guys,” Jin said sassily to the maknaes.

“No,” Namjoon stepped in to try to stop the speculation before it got too far. “No, Taehyung, really? Eye fucking?” Taehyung simply shrugged to which you couldn’t help but let a breathy laugh escape your lips. “Were you eye fucking me?” He whispered to you with a smirk, you teasingly shrugging in response.

“Really, are you guys together?” Jin asked, his eyes wide and curious. You shoved another bite of cereal into your mouth, selfishly making Namjoon handle the mess you both were now facing. Namjoon looked at you, confusion written across his features and you couldn’t help but smirk at the cute expression.

Turning to Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook, as Taehyung stood next to you watching the scene with wide innocent eyes, Namjoon simply shrugged as a close-mouthed smile spread across his face, a blush tinting his cheeks. “We’re figuring things out,” he said simply, turning to look at you again. As soon as you saw his shy smile, you couldn’t help but smile fondly at him.

“Holy shit, no way?” Jimin blurted out. “This is great,” Jungkook said happily as Jimin smiled brightly while Jin grabbed onto Jungkook’s shoulders and shook him in excitement.

“So I have to date you too if I want a bowl of cereal?” Taehyung pouted bitterly next to you.

“Tae,” you giggled, handing him your cereal. He looked at you with childlike eyes as you gestured for him to take the bowl.

“Wow,” he smiled as he took the cereal. “I’m happy for you guys,” he mumbled through a big bite of Apple Jacks.

“Ok, but don’t freak out, guys, it’s still new. My family is already way too involved,” Namjoon chuckled a bit as you giggled at the memories of his family from your trip.

“Oh, your mom texted me the other day,” you told Namjoon as he looked at you with his eyebrows raised. “She invited me to Christmas already,” you laughed as Namjoon groaned.

“Wait, have you two thought about this though?” Jin’s voice of reason echoed out across the kitchen, your heart feeling as though it dropped into your stomach instantly.

“Yeah, what if it doesn’t work out? You’re best friends?” Jimin added on.

Jungkook’s big eyes watched your and Namjoon’s faces fall as Jin and Jimin continued. “If it doesn’t work, where does that leave your friendship?” Jin asked.

These were all questions you and Namjoon had obviously been stressing over, which was the reason you were both so apprehensive in discussing where your relationship stood. If you were to go fully into a relationship, and then it didn’t work out, you would truly lose your life partner. Best friend and all.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said slowly. “We’re starting with a first date.”

“Well it would hardly be a first date,” Taehyung’s voice sounded next to you, his eyes set on the bowl of cereal as he shoved another spoon full into his mouth.

“Yeah, I mean, you guys have practically been dating for years. Now it’ll just be official, right?” Jungkook voiced his opinion. At that moment, Jin noticed how withdrawn you had become and instantly regretted ever expressing any doubt.

“Oh yeah, guys, we were waiting for this, honestly,” Jin attempted to patch up what he had caused. “Really, this is exciting, I’m happy for you,” he smiled gently at you, which you weakly returned.

“We’re all happy for you,” Jimin agreed.

Namjoon glanced at you and upon seeing your doubtful expression, his heart immediately shattered. Grabbing your hand, he dragged you to his room. Shutting the door behind you, he grabbed you by the shoulders, bending slightly to meet your gaze. He huffed before softly running his hands up and down your upper arms. “Babe, don’t listen to them, don’t let them get into your head.”

“What if they’re right?” You asked weakly, tears gathering in your eyes.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t start doubting this before it can even turn into something,” he begged you, his face stern and desperate.

“I’m not doubting it, I’m just asking what if,” you said, your voice louder than intended.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Namjoon asked, confusion on his face. “No,” you exclaimed as you cast your gaze to the floor.

“Just, think for a minute here. What if this doesn’t work? What happens then?” Your vision was clouded with tears and your breath was labored as you tried to keep the tears from falling.

“And what if it does work?” Namjoon asked, raising his voice. “What if it works? We could be so great, please don’t—”

“What if it doesn’t?” You whispered, backing away from him towards the door. “We need to think about this before we just jump into it.” Reaching for the door to leave his bedroom, you paused for a moment. “Let’s just think.”

“Babe,” Namjoon called after you, but you disappeared through the door, leaving him standing in his room, defeated. He wanted to go after you, but he knew how stubborn you could be. He had to give you time.

The second you shut the door behind you, the tears fell down your face as you made a bee line to the front door. However, before you could reach the door, a hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back.

“Hey, are you ok?” Jin asked. However, when you turned around to look at him, his breath hitched. “Shit, y/n.”

“We’re so stupid,” you said through a choked sob, triggering Jin to pull you in for a hug.

“No, you’re not. You’re not stupid,” he whispered. “I’m the stupid one.” You pulled out of Jin’s arms to look at him, shaking your head.

“I need to get out of here,” you told Jin, trying to pull out off his grasp.

“Hang on, just talk to me for a minute ok?” Jin begged. You sighed, wiping your cheeks, trying to rid them of the tears. “Please, just talk to me.”

Giving in, you nodded. “Just not here.” Jin nodded understandingly as he gestured to the door.

Walking down the street next to Jin, you weren’t sure what to say. Luckily, he spoke first. “You’re not making a mistake,” he started. Looking over at you, he could see the doubt in your eyes. “Ok, talk to me. How did all of this start?”

“I don’t know, I—” you looked ahead of you in thought. “I always loved Joon, obviously. He’s my best friend. But, when we were in Ilsan, his family could see something more that I think we were pretending not to see. They kept calling us out, and I think the more they pointed it out, the more we were willing to accept it.”

“So, what is it that you like about Namjoon?” Your eyes widened at the question, not expecting to have to explain your feelings at that exact moment. “Even just as friends, what is it that you like?”

“Jin, there’s like a million reasons,” you told him shaking your head.

“Start listing them,” he said shortly, making you glare at him. “Look at me like that all you want, but you’re not getting rid of me until you list them.”

Sighing, you stopped walking. “He’s sweet, and kind, and he’s insightful and profound,” you listed unenthusiastically. “He’s so smart,” suddenly, you thought about Namjoon, and you started speaking with passion. “I’m in awe of him every single day. I truly don’t understand how someone like him actually exists in the world,” you smiled. “He understands me, and it feels so good to be understood by someone, and not just be anyone but by someone who actually cares about me.”

Jin stared at you with a small smile on his face as you spilled all your feelings out on the sidewalk.

“He’s obsessed with the moon,” you let out a breathy chuckle. “He comes alive when he’s working late at night in the studio. You almost have to let him work into the early morning even though you know he should be sleeping because he just loves it so much.” You paused for a moment as you stared at Jin. “I love that he’s not afraid to express himself and share his ideas. He’s kind of fearless, and that’s so amazing,” you began to tear up as you continued listing all the reasons you absolutely adored Kim Namjoon.

“He respects me. Every bit of me. My mind, my body, my feelings, he just has so much respect and admiration for me, and he won’t let me forget it. And he respects you guys and I love that about him. He just respects life, I mean, fuck, look at him with crabs. What other man do you know who is so fascinated by crabs?” Your eyes were watery as a tear slid down your cheek.

“Namjoon is really easy to love. He’s so strong, he never stops fighting, and he reminds me how strong I am. I feel like myself around him. And anytime I lose sense of who I am, he reminds me. I love him, the good and the not as good, I just love everything about him. He’s my best friend, Jin.”

“So how could this possibly not work?” Jin asked you with a look of bewilderment. “He’s still your best friend, you’re just adding even more to your relationship. Your friendship doesn’t change. Your feelings don’t change. You’re just allowing yourself to feel more. You’re allowing yourself to act on those feelings you’ve both had for years. That’s a good thing, there’s nothing to doubt,” Jin explained to you.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking your focus on Jin. Upon seeing Namjoon’s name on the screen, you quickly answered the call.

“Joon,” you whispered.

“Babe, they were wrong—”

“I know—”

“They asked if we’ve thought about this. Babe, you know we’ve both been thinking about this for years. We know this will work, it’s you and it’s been you,” he told you desperately.

“Joon, I know,” you assured. “It’s you.”

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m with Jin, but I’m on my way,” you gestured to Jin to follow you as you quickly made your way back to the dorm. “I’m only a couple minutes away.”

“Hurry here, Babe,” Namjoon told you. “Don’t hang up, I don’t want to stop talking to you.”

“I won’t,” you assured. “Baby, we’re not just friends.” “No, we’re not, we’re so much more. You’re my partner,” he said sincerely. His words had you running to the dorm, ripping the entrance door open, bolting onto the elevator. “And you’re coming home with me for Christmas,” he chuckled

“Oh my god, Joon,” you laughed as tears ran down your cheeks. “I’m in the elevator.”

“Fuck, thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Hurry and get in here.” Namjoon tore his bedroom door open, speeding past all of his members in the living room, besides Jin, who was standing excitedly in the elevator with you.

“What the hell?” Hoseok asked out loud as the members gawked at their leader.

Bursting through the door, you saw him standing there waiting and you immediately ran to him. You latched your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you completely into him as your lips crashed together in your first kiss, the result of years of pent up desires and love. Namjoon was quick to deepen the kiss, moving one hand to the back of your thigh, gripping the muscle. You jumped up, briefly detaching your lips to look down at him as he held you, your legs wrapped around his hips.

“This is happening,” he whispered, looking at you in awe, to which you nodded with a smile. “There’s no going back,” he told you. Instead of replying, you pressed your lips to his again. Namjoon lost his footing slightly, nearly tripping as he carried you towards his room, both of you giggling into a messy heated kiss.

“You’re such a clutz,” you said against his lips, teasing the man.

“Shut up, I’m excited,” Namjoon mumbled into your mouth, not wanting to break away from the kiss.

Jin watched as you both disappeared into Namjoon’s room, sporting a proud grin. Turning to look at his members, every single one of them were staring at the bedroom door, their jaws hung open in shock. Jin made his way to the living room, plopping down next to a shocked Hoseok and grabbed a takeout box

“What the fuck just happened?” Yoongi asked, looking at Jin in disbelief.

With a mouthful of food, Jin simply shrugged. “They’re in love.”

#namjoon #namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #namjoon drabble #namjoon drabbles #namjoon fluff #rm #bts rm #bts #bts scenario #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts drabbles #bts fluff

463 notes · View notes

that1girloverthere · 5 years

Text

Not just a game

One shot.

A game of Candor or Dauntless leads to something more.

Eric x Y/N

Tag List:

@buried-in-books

Let me know if you want tagged in future posts or removed!

•••

“Alright everyone gather round.”

Zeke and Uriah stand on a black couch in their living room, staring down at the large group of people surrounding me. Wild smiles dance across their faces and it’s hard to tell if it’s from the booze or the general excitement that fills the room.

My heart pumps, a thin sheen of sweat coating my skin, either from the dancing or my nerves I’m unsure.

“We’re playing Candor or Dauntless. Anyone unwilling, leave now!” They announce in unison. With the statement made they hop down from their podium and begging ushering those uninterested out of the apartment. When it’s all said and done the majority of the people have exited, leaving only 15 of us left. Those who remain are either young thrill seekers or have nothing better to do with their Saturday nights than play a childish game.

“In a circle!” Someone yells from the back, each of us slowly following their directions. I plop down where I stand, letting the other gather around me, uncaring of the occasional push I get from someone bumping into me.

I end up with Lynn to my left and Zeke to my right.

“Alright,” Zeke says next to me, his speech is slurred but still distinguishable. “If you don’t know how to play than oh well,” a few chuckles echo around the group. “Who wants to start?” I look around at the others near me, the question floating in the air. I’m about to volunteer when Uriah speaks up.

“Me,” He states, leaning in to look at his victims. “Shauna, Candor or Dauntless?” He asks. The blond haired girl makes a face that is meant to mock hurt, her hand over her heart.

“Dauntless, is there any other option?” She scoffs.

“Okay, go to the kitchen and get the scissors, come back and you’ll see what happens next.” He says this all with a mischievous grin, it doesn’t disappear until she renters the room. “Now. Cut your hair. To right about...” He says motioning to his jaw. “Here.”

“Ugh,” she frowns, flashing him a small glare. “I just finally grew it out. Fine, but you’ll pay for this.” She says pointing the scissors threateningly at him. Without much delay she takes a handful of hair, slicing the blades across it. Blond strands fall to the floor, not stopping until I’m able to clearly see the back of her neck.

“My turn.” She smirks, seemingly unfazed by her previous actions despite the ringlets of blond hair on the ground around her. “Ahh Eric, feared Dauntless leader, all mighty king. Candor or Dauntless?”

My heart skips a beat when I hear his name, or more so the exaggerated name she has just given them. It may not be commonly know, but I’ve had a crush on him since our initiation.

I remember the first time I met him, he was scrawnier back then, I laugh at the idea. Some eyes fall onto me for my random out burst but I ignore their gazes. Frankly I’m surprised he’s even here, this doesn’t seem like his type of scene.

“Why even ask? Dauntless.” He states, he seems to be one of the most sober people here, myself excluded.

“Perfect.” Shauna giggles and I know she has to be up to something. Her eyes meet mine for a split second but it’s long enough to tell me that she’s going to do something stupid.

Oh God please don’t.

“Why don’t you smooch Y/N over there. She seems to be enjoying her day too much.” She tries to make it seem like a casual thing but I know damn well that this was planned. I grown internally at her.

“Really Shauna?” I question her, granting me a famous glare in response.

“Don’t ‘really’ me, I just cut all my hair off, I think you can handle one kiss.” She snaps, I know it’s just a cover but her attitude makes me keep my mouth shut.

“Alright I’ll do it.” Eric says after staring at the two of us. Without hesitation he stands from the floor and walks over to me. Before I can fully register what’s happening his body is bent, his hand placed on the back of my neck. He smirks at me, the look making my heart flutter.

Calm down.

“Ready?” He asks, leaning in closer so our noses nearly touch. I can only manage a nod, staring into his steel grey eyes longer than needed.

“Y/N, I need you to say you want this. I don’t care about the game, if you’re uncomfortable I can leave.” He states this all so quiet I’m sure I’m the only one able to hear him. My heart squeezes at his consideration, the bad boy act dropping for at least a second.

“No.” I pause, probably having replied too quickly. “I, uh, no. It’s okay, seriously, it’s just a game right?” I can tell my voice is higher than normal but with his callused fingers drawing small circles on the back of my neck I can’t bring myself to care.

“Okay. Are you sure?” He questions one last time, and while I’m glad he cares anger and anticipation boils violently inside of me. Before I can change my mind I grip the collar of his shirt, swiftly yanking him forward.

Our lips connect and for a moment it’s calm and butterflies form in my stomach my heart doing flips. Yet the softness morphs into hunger in mere seconds, his hands tangle my hair, a thumb planted on my cheek. My body burns as I grapple for a handle, my fingers working into the grooves of his short hair, my other hand gripping his shirt. I can’t tell how long we stay like this, our beings stuck together like glue before cheers erupt from around us. The sounds of screams makes me jump, accidentally bitting Eric’s lip, eliciting a small groan in return before we pull apart.

I make brief eye contact with those in the room around me, a hodgepodge of reactions greeting me. The most notable being Shauna’s pride, her ego so big I can feel it across the room. Rolling my eyes I focus my attention back on the man in front of me, my stomach hallowing when I see the mess he’s become. His normally sculpted blond hair is ruffled and falls to his eyebrows in small tendrils, his lips red and puffy. It takes all the will power I have not to reach for his crumpled shirt again.

Sharing his gaze I watch as he leans in yet again, this time moving his lips to my ear.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks, a hand grazing my waist. My breath hitches, every nerve in my body heightening.

“Yes.” I reply, barely finishing the word before he’s grabbing my arm and pulling me up and to the door, cheers echoing again around us as we leave.

This is bound to be the best night of my life.

•••

Hope you all enjoyed! Love you guys so much, thank you for all your support! ❤️❤️

#divergent fanfiction #divergent #divergent series #divergent eric #eric x reader #eric coulter #eric coulter fluff #fluff #candor #dauntless #dauntless aesthetic #divergent uriah #divergent shauna #my writing #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #y/n

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nctjoy · 6 years

Text

prompt: 23, 46, 96 // johnny

the steam rose from the stove top and fogged the glasses that had fallen down the bridge of your nose in your efforts to cook a real meal for a change instead of springing for takeout last minute. after all, today was special. in no time at all, there would be another joining you for dinner and it’s long overdue company.

somehow, johnny had managed to get a week off from promoting, a feat he’d arguably earned. he has done wonderful things, the pride you felt watching him do what he loves was immeasurable knowing he was achieving his dreams. but it did nothing to quell the persistent longing you felt each day you didn’t spend with him. but tonight, you’d pick him from o’hare and bring him home to a hot, home cooked meal; and a bedroom that didn’t run the risk of another young man bursting in unannounced. it would be just the two of you for the weekend and you weren’t about to let it go to waste.

music played loudly nearby as you put on the finishing touches to your meal that you hadn’t heard the door unlock and open. you swayed to the rhythm as you brought your spoon up to taste test, lost in the song that you didn’t see the towering figure set his backpack to the floor below and tired but enamored eyes taking in the sight of you. it’s been months and he couldn’t help but softly, near inaudibly chuckle at you. his grin stretched across his lips as he walked softly into the kitchen with a hand brushing back the unkempt hair in his face, not wanting you to notice him yet. as you brought your spoon up to taste one more time, he sprung into action as his lumbering frame pressed to your back while his arms took hold of you as he wrapped you up—then immediately leaned in to steal the sauce off the spoon for himself. he registered your immediate terror with a warm squeeze and spoke—

“Mm! What’s cookin’, good-lookin’?”

you let out a riotous screech as you dropped the spoon in your grasp, it clattering to the stove top as you swiftly twisted within johnny’s embrace so that you could throw your arms around his neck in a tight hug. your eyes slammed shut as you tried to take it all in; the way his arms tightened around you in an instant, or the way his scent filled you in and reminded you that you were still on earth and this was in fact happening to you. he was here, you were here. you felt weightless in that moment as he stepped backwards from the heat source so that he could twist you around, his laughter low at the crest of your ear before he seemingly buried his face into you, trying to become a part of you.

“you should have told me--i would have been there at the gate.” you scolded with moisture in your voice, evidence of the tears swelling in your eyes at the beautiful surprise he had bestowed upon you. hours early, that sneaky jerk. but as he pulled away just enough to get a look at you, it all fell away. his hands lifted to frame your face, thumbs moving beneath your eyes where he halted the tears slipping free. he certainly didn’t want you to cry, but he’d accepted it as a calculated risk for his little rouse.

“yeah well--i wanted to surprise you. mission accomplished.” he remarked rather proudly as his dark eyes drank you in with the feeling of a persistent longing he’d felt alongside you all these months. and with a light grunt, johnny hoisted you up off of your feet so that your legs immediately latched onto either side of his much larger frame with ease as your lips immediately crashed together in the proper greeting you both deserved. your fingers raked through the thickness of his hair; lighter than you last saw it but it was still nice, still soft against your touch as you lost yourself in him. it was hard not to as your felt his hands grasping at the fabric of your top, tensing and splaying against the flat expanse of it, holding you to him as if he feared you might vanish.

“but--i made dinner--” you murmured against his mouth as you felt him begin to carry you out of the kitchen.

“leave it--” he practically ordered as his feet didn’t slow, bending his knees so he could adjust his grip on you with a growl, already heading down the hallway.

“but the burner is still on--i’ll light the apartment on fire.” you reminded him, foreheads resting together as he halted his movements and let out a disappointed sigh. when you’re right, you’re right. he relinquished his hold on you so you could rush back to the stove to turn off all the burners--you were finished cooking anyway. once satisfied you weren’t going to indirectly cause arson, you noticed johnny returning to the kitchen as he curiously peeked at the food you had prepared. the hunger had changed focus as he stared at the food then looked back into your eyes with a slowly lifting brow.

“the food on the plane was terrible--” he remarked with a slow winding grin, which left you with a grateful smile on your lips in return.

————————————————————————

after dinner you set the dirtied dishes in the sink, knowing if you didn’t do them now, they would likely sit for too long. while you would much rather be spending every moment you could with johnny, you knew that you couldn’t ignore them. or at least, that was what you thought. but as you turned the sink on to try and begin the soaking process, you heard the sound of his steps entering the kitchen again. you peeked with your peripheral vision as he reached out to change the song on your phone from it’s usual up beat tempos to something much slower, mellow as he finally turned his attention back onto you. immediately, the thought of cleaning dissipated and was replaced with him, all over again like it had when he’d first arrived. but at least this shirking of responsibility didn’t come with a potential for fire damage.

you felt his hand against your wrist first, his fingertips slipping over your bare skin before closing around the flat of your palm. he was coaxing you, but gently as your turned around to face him. he smiled as he twisted your joined hands outward to lead you away from the sink before his free hand found it’s way around to the small of your back. simple actions, but combined it sent shivers down your spine.

“dance with me.” his voice as smooth as crushed velvet and melting you in the warmth of it. so easily you drifted into the center of his gravity, his touch holding you close to him as the two of you began to sway to the languid tempo of the music. it was gentle, not in any way urgent as he quietly led the dance with practiced steps. instinctively, you leaned into his chest as your hands remained intertwined in the open air as he used them to gently guide your slow embrace. “i missed you so much.” he mused against the crown of your head as his chin rested against it as you both swayed together. you lifted your head from his broad chest to capture his gaze just as he pulled your joined hands in close to him so that he could press his lips to the peaks of your knuckles.

“i always miss you.” was all you could say as you tightened your grip on johnny’s hand. it stung, both of you as his gaze glistened in the low lightning when he understood how layered that statement really was. he didn’t like being away from you, even if it was to achieve goals he’d set for himself since he was a child. falling for you hadn’t exactly been in the plan, but he did his best to try and balance it. “but it’s worth it.” you finished, swallowing the lump in your throat if only to prevent him from feeling it too deeply. because regardless of how long you went without seeing each other, it didn’t change how you felt. you would continue to wait. it was enough, johnny’s eyes sliding closed in time of your movements as you pressed into him with your arms moving to pull him into a tight hug. you stopped dancing then, standing in the kitchen wrapped within the enveloping warmth of each other as you just existed together for a few moments. you wondered if he understood how deep your feelings ran, how long you were truly willing to wait for him. but as your lips met for the second time this evening, you didn’t dare interrupt this one.

————————————————————————

it rained the next day, sequestering you both to the bedroom for the entire morning as it bathed the room in a dull paleness, but you didn’t seem to mind. you both were a tangled mess of limbs and warm sheets as your nose followed the narrow path of his jawline as you attempted to quietly stir him awake. while you knew that he has been incredibly busy the last few months with promoting that he could use all the sleep he could get, you couldn’t help yourself as you shifted beneath the covers so that you could gain better access to him.

he stirred a bit, scrunching his nose up as your fingertip followed the narrow bridge of his nose, watching as he lazily lifted his larger palm to close around yours to still your movements but also just to touch you. always touching.

“mmmm--orning.” he croaked from sleep, tilting his head down with his eyes still closed, judging the space by your body heat alone. even though you still had time together, you couldn’t shake the knowledge that he’d be packing up not too long from now to head back to korea, and you’d both return to your separate lives as this weekend turned into a fleeting memory. while you anticipated these short visits with such excitement, you always forgot how short they really were until he was boarding a plane and you were left at the gate wondering when he’d be coming back.

as his eyes finally opened, it overwhelmed you as you watched him slowly blink at you and that tired smirk twist his features into a blissful contentment you had dreamt about waking up to again for so damn long. it fell from your lips in a raspy plea, your other hand brushing strands from his face and you were unable to stop it.

“can’t you stay a little longer?” eyelids fluttering as his contentment slipped away and was instead replaced with a twisted expression of guilt and worry, his grasp on your hand never faltering which was a small mercy. you knew it was foolish, that it would never get anywhere no matter how much you wished. you asked him this each time, but just as your predictability never failed, neither did his.

“someday--” he whispered back, his adam’s apple bobbing with the effort of swallowing the dryness in his throat. “just not this time.” the apology hung in the air between you as his gaze held you in. you don’t dare cry, knowing it would only make him feel worse and you couldn’t bear to do that to him. instead, you smile gently at him, offering him comfort in his unfortunate admission so that maybe you could salvage the day without having to ruin it with your selfish desire to keep him here as long as you could.

you took in the deepest of breaths as you pulled yourself in closer to him, reaching with your free hand to soften the furrow of his thick brows to ease him before you could press the warmth of your lips to his forehead for good measure. and as you felt him relax under your affection you turned to rest your cheek against him and gently shrugged. “then we better take advantage of the time we do have.” and without warning, you tossed the sheets upward so that it blanketed over your bodies as you lazily tackled johnny to the bed while he let out a sharp but pleased laugh.

someday.

a/n:

@seodium omfg this got long i am so damn sorry for all of this but wow i was inspired. please don’t hate me and i hope you like it!

#nct prompt #nct prompts #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct drabble #nct drabbles #nct #nct 127 #johnny #johnny seo #seo youngho #prompt: answered #seodium #wow this fucked me up #enjoy

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butiaintgonnaloveem · 6 years

Text

Try to Understand Pt 9

Characters: Alpha!Dean Smith, Beta!Benny Lafitte, Omega!Reader

Word Count: 3521

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Hello dear friends and readers! You’re all so wonderfully patient with me. We’re getting close to the end, and I hope you enjoy this part. It’s a lot. @roxy-davenport did some amazing beta reading for me. I always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism.

Note about the tags - there are so so many I can’t tag. I tried. If anyone has any advice for fixing it, let me know.

Part 8

From part 8:

“No,” he yanks away from you.

“No, you need to let me walk away before I say something I can’t take back.”

“Just - you can’t say anything to anyone, please?”

“What the hell am I even supposed to say?”

“Benny, please talk to me. Let me explain. Try to understand -”

“There’s nothing to understand.” he says, harsh enough to keep you from going after him again when he turns to walk away this time.

You don’t bother watching after him. Instead, wrapping your arms around yourself and focusing on the concrete, trying to force away the emotions threatening to burst free at any moment. A small crowd had formed and you can feel their eyes watching you. The morning air suddenly feels suffocating so you turn away and begin to walk. The direction isn’t significant, as long as it takes you away from the here and now.

You walk to burn away the nerves, the anger, the embarrassment, the guilt presses at your chest. . They all threaten to send your fists flying at anything in sight, Eventually it all does burn away, and your skin goes dewey with the effort, muscles tingling as you push hard with each step. Hours pass, your body aches and the sunshine turns into long, cool shadows between the buildings. The golden reflections on the windows turn to bright white rectangles, lit from fluorescent lights inside. You walk until the cool air finally breaks through and brings a chill, prompting you to find your way back to the office building to face whatever comes next.

It’s mostly empty, and you drag your sore and tired body through the building until you reach the office you’ve been sharing with Dean. A soft yellow light from inside lets you know he’s still there.

With your eyes downcast, you push the door open, and slowly shut it behind you. Leaning against it, you take your eyes off the floor, and nervously look up to see Dean staring at you. His lips are parted and his eyes are rimmed with red. Sadness and relief rolls off of him in waves, clear in the glassy look in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he breathes out with a sigh.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You answer softly, wary of any potential outbursts.

“You, uh,” he clears his throat, his voice taken on a harder edge than before. “I wanted to give you some time, and then you didn’t come back and you didn’t take your phone…” He trails off, tone wavering a little at the end.

The sound of disappointment in his voice is enough to make you hang your head in shame, “I’m sorry. I just needed to try to talk to him, and get him to understand. I didn’t want to tell my family. Then I needed some air to calm down and clear my head.”

Dean shifts from his chair, standing up and straightening his clothes before running a hand over his hair to smooth it. “And? Did it help?”

“No,” you answer, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

You see him nod and move around to the front of the desk then lean against it, his fingers anxiously tapping against the edge. “Why haven’t I scented him?”

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat. Burning, prickling sweat breaks out all over your body as the truth trickles out, “I change my clothes. Before and after work. I didn’t mean for all this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was just trying to weigh my options,” you whisper, making his head snap up.

“Options?” he spits like an accusation.

“Yeah. Options. Maybe you forgot that I’m not an idiot!” He gives you a disbelieving look which sends a wave of uneasiness to settle in your gut, but you continue, “Naive, unaware, ignorant, whatever makes you happy - sure. But I’m not stupid. I’ve looked into things. Did you know that plenty of omegas live perfectly happy lives with betas? That not every omega has to be with some alpha that thinks she’s his property just because of her genes?”

“What the hell? Those omegas didn’t find their true mates. This is different. Really? You looked into things? You’re serious with this shit?”

It’s a slight nod, but it’s enough of an answer. He turns away toward the windows, rubbing a hand over his neck, the other clenched into a fist. Restless, anxious energy setting him off to pace back and forth.

“What about your heats? Fuck, you’re almost in heat right now.”

“You’re not my Alpha, why’s that your problem?”

He whirls around on you, a fierce look on his features that’s frightening and exciting. Complete Alpha confidence and hunger in his gaze. “I could be. Fucking should be.”

“You’re not,” you point out.

“Damn it, yes I am and you know it,” he growls. His hands grab your arms, jostling you as he pulls you against him. He nudges his nose along the side of your neck, taking in your scent with a deep inhale. “Should be my scent all over you. Should be him ready to explode with jealousy. Should be my mark on your neck.”

“I didn’t even sleep with him,” you confess, trying to sound annoyed, but it’s too breathy to sound genuine.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he snaps at you, sarcasm dripping with anger, as he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

“What do you want from me?” Your eyes dart back and forth between his, desperate for clarity. “I have nothing to offer if I give in to this. No family, no money, just a fucked up view of the world. I have nothing and nowhere to go.”

Dean’s eyes close and his face scrunches up in a grimace as if you’d caused him pain with just your words. His hands move to cradle your cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his body tenses and nearly vibrates against you, muscles trembling with whatever he’s holding inside. He sucks in a deep breath and pulls away, forcing a bit of distance between you. All the while he continues to stare intently, his body slowly inching away before he finally speaks.

“God damn you’re making this so hard,” he whispers. “I know what this is, and I know what I want. It’s you - with or without your family or your status and money. I want my Omega.”

He backs away until he reaches his desk. He pulls his suit jacket back on before picking up his bag and fiddling with the strap for a moment, “I’m not going to play any more games and I’m not pretending this is anything it’s not. I know you don’t want or need anyone telling you what to do. You need to decide. Not for me, or them. For yourself.”

You’re frozen still in front of the door. He steps up close to you, and places a hand gently on your cheek. He nuzzles his nose into the other side of your neck scenting you as he makes a soft hum.

“You wouldn’t have nothing, you know that, right? Charlie is your friend, you have your job, and I’d do anything for you. You’d have your Alpha,” he whispers. You can feel the sadness rolling off him, but can’t will yourself to do anything except follow his lead as he moves you to the side and pulls away. Without another look your way, he pulls the door open and stomps down the hall.

You lean back, resting your head against the wall and stare at the ceiling, fighting tears for what feels like the millionth time that day. Once you’ve got your emotions bottled back up, you draw in a deep breath and glance around the familiar office. Nothing is out of place, nothing’s changed, but it feels different; your little bubble had popped, but even without it, it feels good to be there - familiar - like home. Dean’s scent - earthy, woodsy with some spice - permanently settled into everything. When you realize why you like it so much, the revelation forms quietly and slowly in your mind. It’s like you’re walking on your family estate, at the border of the garden near the pines. Your favorite place.

I’m such an idiot, it dawns on you and it’s hard to resist smacking yourself on the forehead. Gathering your things, you find your phone sitting on Dean’s desk, lined up perfectly next to the desk calendar, still blinking with notifications of missed calls. You ignore all of them, pulling up your contacts and hitting the call button.

“Oh my god, hi!” her enthusiasm draws out a small smile, your cousin, Anna’s, voice high-pitched and breathy as she greets you.

“Hey, Anna. Do you have some time to talk?” One of her kids shrieks in the background, but you hear her shush them and close a door..

“For you? Of course. You’re the only family I ever hear from.” She doesn’t sound sad, and you instantly wonder if you’ll ever feel the same.

“I don’t know how you did this by yourself, Anna, I am so so lost.”

“Did what? What’s going on?”

The tears finally fall, “I presented, Anna. I’m an Omega.”

She gasps, but stays quiet, giving the statement a moment to sink in. “Tell me everything. Have you told your parents? You’re not hurt are you?”

It’s a rushed conversation, as you rattle off the events of the last couple of months. Your cousin listens with a sympathetic ear, only interrupting with a few questions now and then.

“And this Alpha? How does he make you feel?”

“Like a crazy person,” you say, pulling a laugh from the both of you. “He kind of puts me on edge, like I’m always a little nervous with him, but at the same time I want that. That doesn’t even make sense.” You get up and pace in Dean’s office, smiling at the photos on Dean’s shelves.

“Have you met other alphas?” she asks.

Your nose scrunches up as you think of other alphas from the office, especially Michael, “Ugh. Yeah.”

She laughs quietly, “Not the same, huh?” You hum a quiet no. “Okay, I’ve got a weird question for you now. Can you answer something honestly?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“What does your Omega say?”

“What?” your face wrinkles with confusion. “I don’t get it.”

She huffs out a breath and you can image the exasperated look on her face about needing to explain this, “Like that little voice inside you, call it your instincts or whatever, but being an Omega, there’s a part of you that just knows what you want and need. I knew my Alpha was mine because of those feelings - like home, comfort, desire, fucking happiness - all rolled into one. It’s so cheesy, but I’m telling you it was like magic, like fucking Cupid shot me with an arrow and I couldn’t help myself. It was the same for him. We were made for each other and my inner Omega called out for him,” she sighs wistfully. “So, what does your Omega tell you?”

Driving on autopilot, the radio, the sounds of the city and the traffic all turn into white noise around you while you make your way to the home you share with Benny, your stomach gnawing with dread.

With your keys in your hand, you tap your knuckles against the hard surface. After a minute, the door cracks open, and Benny gives you a cold, blank stare.

“Don’t know why you’re knockin’, this is your house,” he says dismissively as he steps aside to let you in, his scent making you cough, suddenly unpleasant and stale to your extra sensitive nose.

“I didn’t know if it still would be.”

“I haven’t said anythin’.”

“Why not?” you question him timidly.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He shakes his head as he stares at the floor, “I don’t know, chere. It should have come from you. I deserve to hear it from you. Damn it, I deserve to know it all, and how long you’ve been playing me.”

Tears well up, lingering along your eyelashes as your lips tremble and you choke down sobs. You cross your arms over your chest to cover yourself while you shuffle to lean against the wall.

“No, Benny, it’s not like that. I-I,” you stop, trying to figure out what to even say to him. Nothing sounds right. I’m an omega. I was trying to fall more in love with you than with him. I’ve been trying to decide between two men I might be stuck with for life. “I made some mistakes, and I just lost control, it was...there’s a connection...I just don’t know if I feel -”

You can’t finish a single thought, Your mind races to put it all together, trying to put it nicely, trying to be honest, but you don’t even know what to be honest about. Benny stands at the other end of the room, lips in a tight line, chest huffing, but otherwise stiff and waiting for answers. His eyes bore into you as the silence drags on.

“How’s that even happen?”

“I don’t know. It got triggered somehow. It doesn’t even really matter anymore does it? I just came to get my things.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t be with you.”

“And who told you that? That Alpha?” He spits out the title. You remain still, afraid of the anger in his tone. “And you jus’ believed him? Let him take advantage of you like that? And then that other alpha on the street? You’re nothing but a piece of meat to them. Property to own and breed! Just the way he was looking at you...”

“Benny, it’s not like that,” you reply in your calmest tone.

“Were you gonna tell me? Bout him? Bout you? I know you don’t love me,” he says flatly. You open your mouth to argue, but he shakes his head to stop you, “I know it, but you could’ve. You were only gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life because this was all arranged, but don’t rub this in my face. You’re Omega and you were lying to me, stringing me along.”

Trying to shrink as small as possible, you tuck your head against your chest, mumbling low, “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“What was your plan, were you gonna lie forever?”

Tears drip from your eyelashes, and you watch as the spots spread on the fabric of your clothes. You try to gather trying to gather enough strength to keep the shakiness from your voice. “I don’t know, Benny. I got here and it was all so strange, and the heat. God, how it hurt. I can’t control it - can’t control any of this, but I wanted to. For once, I wanted to control my life, and I don’t know what I would have done if Dean wasn’t here. Maybe go home, take suppressants and try to make you happy, make my parents happy. Who am I otherwise?”

“And all this because of what some alpha says?”

Your head jerks to try to nod, but you don’t quite get there, words catch in your throat.

His lip curls into a snarl as he continues, one finger jabbing at the air to make his point, “You were raised to know better. You know the stories of the abuse, the beatings to keep them in line. How they keep them pregnant all the time, just breeding them like some puppy mill bitch. And the alphas? They get to do whatever and whoever they want, long as they get theirs. So, that’s who you chose to listen to? You know better!”

“Benny, it’s not like that. There’s so much you don’t know. And Dean - he’s not like that.”

“He’s Alpha, that’s just how they are.” He shifts a little from a tense, defensive look, to something much more stoic. He moves toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder, talking to you in his placating business tone, “Know what? Why don’t we go on home and figure that out? Get away from all this, to let you think clearly with some fresh air and some familiar faces. I bet you’ll get all this cleared up and find out it’s been some mistake.”

“And you’re different? DO you even hear yourself right now? Betas aren’t any better than anyone else. I’ve seen how my mother was treated - like some ornament for my father to show off when needed, always keeping up the family image, never stepping out of line. Your family’s the same. Don’t you dare try to deny any of that.” Your voice shakes with emotion, finger pointed at him in accusation.

“Come on, now. You’re being ridiculous,” he shakes his head, “I’ve never treated you bad.”

“I know that, but…neither has Dean, and...” The anger deflates from you like a popped balloon, “You’re never going to understand, you can’t,” you whisper.

“You need to get away from that Alpha, let your family sort you out.”

“Benny,” you sigh shaking your head with a pained look on your face, “I can’t-”

“The hell you can’t, or is it that you won’t? You’re sick,” he runs a hand over your cheek and forehead, “Look at you, you’re feverish.”

“I need him.” Your lower lip trembles as you look at him, feeling your heart physically ache in your chest. He pulls his hand away as though your fever burned him and rubs his fingers through his beard, looking off to the side in anger.

“So that’s that? That’s your decision? Dean - he ain’t just your boss.”

“He’s not my mate.”

“But he would be, wouldn’t he?”

Again, you fall silent, unable to say the words you know will hurt Benny; avoiding outright calling Dean your True Mate. “Benny I - I can’t change this, and I’m so tired of fighting it. It’s not fair to you, and I hope you find a beta who will make you happy-”

“Jus’ stop,” he holds a hand up to stop you, but doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m done, there’s nothing left to say if you’re an omega. You want that life? Go on then. Whatever we had is done and I don’t want your pity.”

Though he’s not your mate, the sting of rejection still hurts. “I’m just gonna, uhm, grab some stuff and get out of your way.”

“Just so y’know, I’m not defending you to your folks. I’m gonna go home and they’re gonna wanna know why you’re not with me. I ain’t a liar.”

“There’s nothing to defend, I’m still me, but don’t worry, I’m not putting that on you. I’ll tell them.”

Your body reminds you of the urgency of your situation with a sharp sting of pain. You rush into your room, grabbing some clothes and toiletries, shoving them all messily into the first bag you find. When you leave the room, Benny is still in the same spot you’d left him, leaning against the wall and staring at the floor with feigned interest.

“Bye, Benny,�� your voice cracks. He doesn’t look up, and after a few moments of the tense silence, you turn on your heel and leave, lip caught between your teeth as you try to keep yourself from crying again.

The whole drive over to Dean’s is excruciating. You grit your teeth through waves of cramps that make you tense up and keep you on edge. You curse every stupid traffic light that lengthens the journey. Sweat beads at your hairline, and makes the steering wheel feel sticky beneath your palms. The thought of Dean alone intensifying your heat with every moment.

His doorman calls up to inform Dean of your arrival before nodding to allow you into the elevator. The fabric of your shirt irritates your skin as your start to sweat through it, nerves making you pace back and forth in the elevator car as your ascend floor by floor. The elevator jerks to a stop before the doors roll open to a long, blank corridor. You follow the signs, chanting the unit number in your head so as not to mess it up.

You stare at the little gold plaque with the number on it for an extra few seconds, before gently tapping your knuckles against the door. You jump, yelping at the sudden movement, as Dean immediately flings open his door, fanning Dean-scented air your way. He looks a little startled to see you, and if it weren’t for nerves and shame, your muscles might’ve gone lax to let you collapse into him for relief.

It’s clear when your scent hits him, his mouth dropping open and shoulders rolling in an aggressive stance. He leans himself against the door frame, one arm propped at eye level, fist clenching into white knuckles, while his tongue sweeps across his lips.

“You’re in heat.” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“And you’re here for me to help you?” He asks, eyes clenching shut and head shaking like he’s arguing with himself.

“I’m here because I need you.”

He growls so low it’s nearly a hum, then answers through grit teeth, “Your beta could’ve gotten you through it.”

“No,” you reply sadly, shaking your head.

“Because he doesn’t want you?” he supplies, eyes focused on your feet as they shuffle back and forth.

“I don’t want him. I need you.” He scoffs, followed quickly by a grunt.

“I need my Alpha.”

Part 10

Tags: @mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @notnaturalanahi @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @mandilion76 @muliermalefici @doctorboo82 @boxywrites @essie1876 @sherrybaby14 @emmysthougts @sylverminx @someday-once @nostalgic-uncertainty @there-must-be-a-lock @carryonmyswansong @the-geeky-engineer @model-howell @ginamsmith @dr-dean @avasmommy224 @moonlitskinwalker @docharleythegeekqueen @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy @theficlibrarium @littlestrawberrypizza @ceeceewinchester @zanthiasplace @quick-act-supernatural @caratala @huntingthefire @girlwithanantipossessiontattoo @bookshido @frick-you-im-a-princes @moonstar86 @charliebradbury1104 @harleenquinzzel @hawkeyethenerd @sassy-losechester @its-sophia-xo-love @blacktithe7updates @emilypkuzu @klaineaholic @worlds-forever-apart @jenna-luke @agentmarvel13 @lavieenlex @ilsawasanacrobat @peaceloveancolor @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @woodworthi666 @theoutlinez @dwi1babe @hexparker @love-me-some-pie21 @mr-misty-eye-therefore-i @http-girlwithnolife45 @quiddy-writes @ravengirl94 @donnaintx @thatkittykat13 @bluebird214 @fandomloveyeah @rubynationwins @formulafun @piperistheshite @fudging-jefferson-starships @evyiione @monotachiko @mrsdeanwinchester16 @someday-once @flirtswithdanger @spn-smut-destiel @mackiemcb @peachyenzo @end-lessnights @wedontapologize @goldenolaf25 @sleepy-moon-girl @parkersbackpack @lalahumes @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @sasstrashwithnocash @myloveforyouxx @4401lnc @justanotherreaderr @winchesterprincessbride @brindz30 @olivia3aivilo-blog @hereissomeapplejuice @yohanneswinchester @shewasonce @multifandombackpack @troubletrumble @1-fighting-dreamer @spnj2mfreak @rckyfrk @amandamdiehl @kazuha159 @killyoursoulmate @vvinch3st3r @pansexualgrapes @1-800-loony @moremusclemoresmile @pisces-cutie @jeanjeaniethings

#spn a/b/o #alpha!dean smith #alpha beta omega #alpha!dean smith x reader #a/b/o dynamics #beta!benny laffite #alpha!dean smith x omega!reader #spn au #spn fanfiction #dean smith x reader #dean smith a/b/o #benny lafitte angst #spn fanfic #my writing #try to understand series #it's a terrible life au

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depitydoda · 6 years

Text

Jericho walked along the city street, following the streetlights the lit his way, his own footsteps echoed through the alleyways he passed. The usual rustle and bustle of the night life was silenced due to the growing fear of what lurks behind the corner. Even the most hardened night crawlers stayed in tonight and locked their door.

The local police had released new information on the bodies of a serial killer in the area, due to the brutality of their deaths the media has called the killer the California Cannibal. Jericho was guessing that the elbow room was a product of that statement. It was unnerving seeing the streets barren, even at this time of night, people still were as lively as ever. Despite this empty streets didn’t bother him to much, it made what he was doing easier.

Once reaching a wide alleyway he stopped and inspected it. “Dark, creepy, and looks as if it might have orphaned a young billionaire, yep, boxes all checked.” He then reached into his hoodie pocket and called a friend, knowing he wasn’t going to pick up, “Hey Marcus this is JJ, remember that thing you told not to do because you said it was dangerous and life threatening. Wellll, I was already in the area, and being the good citizen that I am, I figured a picture of the supposed ‘California Cannibal’ would really help the cops find the guy.” He paused for a moment and looked blankly into the seemingly endless alleyway, “And if I do happen to be wrong, which I doubt, and end up in this mornings news headless instead of a headline, then, I’m sorry for... everything really. Goodbye mate.” Hanging up, Jericho silenced his phone and held it up with a lighter in the other hand. Camera ready, he entered the alleyway without a second thought.

~~~~~~~~~

Jericho knew he was walking in an alley, yet he couldn’t help feel he was trekking through an endless cavern. One could say they both were equally as dangerous at this point. Once reaching the midpoint Jericho stopped and sat down. All he had to do now was wait, which was probably the hardest part. There, in the shadow of the night, he waited. Every sound sent jolts of electricity down his spine. Even with the lights of the city, Jericho felt surrounded by darkness. He never felt like this in the city, he always felt like he was apart of something. But now, all he felt was loneliness and fear. He didn’t know how much time has passed, minutes, hours. He really didn’t care, ignoring the dark thoughts, he decided to list happier things instead. Being able to rub his success in his parent’s noses. How cute Marcus was in his newest pajamas. His favorite superhero getting a new comic book run.

“What are you doing here?”

Jericho jumped as he heard a voice at the end of the alleyway. He squinted and saw someone standing at his point of entry.

“Get out of there, don’t you know there’s a serial killer on the lose?”

Jericho sighed, “Yeah, just needed some air.” Cursing silently he got up. He didn’t want to risk the guy calling the cops on him. He was already arrested for trespassing and he really didn’t want another felony under his belt.

“C’mon I’ll take you home.”

Jericho slowly made his way towards him as he answered, “No need, I live-“ He stopped suddenly as he was hit with a gut wrenching stench. Gasping for fresh air, he looked up at the stranger again and slowly back away.

“Get out here already!” The man demanded, starting to raise his voice.

Jericho slowly raised his cellphone and held the lighter still. He dared not to make any sudden movements.

“What are you waiting for?!” The man snarled, he was clearly annoyed now. Even from a distance Jericho could see him fidget, hands twitching and clenching. He saw this behavior before in some addicts on the street.

Backing up slowly Jericho pressed the red button on his phone, and started to fumble with the lighter. Rushing to turn it on.

The man slowly made his way to Jericho, putting him in a panic. “Stop that.” He demanded, his voice becoming more feral with each step closer.

Struggling with the lighter, Jericho cursed himself for buying the cheapest one he could find. Jericho watched as the figure drew closer, and closer, the stench was the first thing that hit him. The smell of rotting meat filled his nostrils and burned his eyes. He was running out of time. Looking up to see the figure closing in, he froze. Expecting to still see him make his way to him, the figure was now towering over him. Now up close Jericho was able to make out the features of the... creature.

Despite it’s size, the creature was painfully thin, it’s piercing yellow eyes seemed to illuminate in the dark and bring light to its pale crusty flesh, the beast spoke once more, without moving its unhinged jaw, “I said stop that.”

~~~~~

Jericho never knew what hit him. All he remembered was being airborne, and the painful landing. “Ok. That hurt.” He groaned as he slowly started to pick himself up and watch as the monster charge him once more with blinding speeds. Before he could scream the monster latched onto him, sinking its claws into his torso and back. Jericho couldn’t find his voice as he felt the monster sink his teeth into him. The pain was agonizing, but it wasn’t anything he haven’t felt before.

Gritting his teeth he continued to go for the lighter. Frantically trying to flick the lick of the lighter. Once he felt the burn on the flame near his fingers, he thrusted the light towards the monster.

With the same speed as before the monster detached from him and hissed at Jericho. A red swell formed below its ribs where he strapped him with the lighter. Thankfully the cheap thing was still lit and seemed to keep the thing back.

Gasping for air he struggled to his knees, “I’ll admit, you’re pretty fast for a gluttonous pile of bones ya damn wendigo.” Raising the lighter towards the monster he spit out the blood in his mouth. “Y’know, you’re the first wendigo I met. So congrats.” He laughed, but soon turned into a painful cough, “Ugh, ya got me good, I’ll admit that.” He looked at the monster and noticed it inch closer. It looked as if the small light was losing it effectiveness.

Grunting he dug into his hoodie pocket and felt the cooling touch of a canister of hair spray. “You’re very rude, you know that? I mean I can get why you attacked me, unquenchable hunger for flesh and human hearts and all, but you don’t have to ignore me.”

The wendigo lunged again, but this time Jericho was ready for him. He pulled out the can of hairspray and pressed down on the nozzle. As the chemical mixture hit the small flame, a column of fire erupted from its small begging, engulfing the lunging wendigo. He did his best to dodge the flaming projectile, but the creature’s speed was far greater then his own as it left a deep scratch on his side, despite his best efforts to dodge.

“Ahhhh, Jesus.” He gasped. Clutching his side he used a nearby wall to help him on his feet. Even then his legs barely supported him. Once up he looked at the motionless burning corpse and and he gaged at what he saw.

The monster’s flesh started to melt away, leaving the stench of burning rotting flesh in the air. After the skin the blackened skeleton began to crumble to a pile of ash.

Jericho cursed loudly, using his colorful dictionary of curse words. He had nothing. After all that, nothing! He didn’t bother looking for his phone. There wasn’t a point if he didn’t have a body.

Giving up, Jericho fell to his knees and leaned on the wall. Looking down he asked himself, Was this hoodie always red? With the realization that the red liquid ozzing out multiple wounds, was his own blood, Jericho passed out.

#oc #original character #jericho jameson #Keepers

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disillusioned41 · 4 years

Link

Republican Majority Leader Mitch McConnell adjourned the U.S. Senate for the rest of August on Thursday after failing to come anywhere close to approving another Covid-19 relief package, leaving tens of millions of out-of-work, hungry, and eviction-prone Americans without additional financial aid as the pandemic and economic crisis continue with no end in sight.

"During the worst economic crisis since the 1930s, Mitch McConnell and Senate Republicans think they can take a long vacation while millions of Americans face hunger and eviction. That is morally obscene," Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) said in response to McConnell's decision. "It's time for the do-nothing Republican Senate to finally do its damn job."

"Almost 30 million are on unemployment and 160,000 Americans are dead. McConnell just adjourned the Senate for a month. Every time I think Republicans can't run this country any further into the ground, they prove me wrong."—Sen. Ron Wyden

The departure of the Republican-controlled Senate comes after an attempt to revive Covid-19 relief talks earlier this week quickly failed as Democratic leaders and Trump administration officials remained far apart on key issues, from emergency funding for the U.S. Postal Service to aid to faltering state and local governments. In her weekly press conference Thursday, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) said White House negotiators refused to budge from their insufficient relief offers.

The Senate is not expected to return until September 8, when economic conditions are likely to be even more dire for the 40 million people at risk of eviction, 30 million facing drastic income cuts due to the lapse in enhanced unemployment benefits, and 14 million households with children that don't have enough to eat.

"This is pathetic and devastating," consumer advocacy group Public Citizen tweeted after McConnell adjourned the upper chamber until after Labor Day. Just before skipping town, the Kentucky Republican advanced five more of President Donald Trump's right-wing judicial nominees.

Earlier Thursday, the Labor Department reported (pdf) that 963,000 Americans filed for unemployment benefits last week—a figure that corporate news outlets presented as the first time since March that initial weekly jobless claims dipped below a million.

But Julia Wolfe, state economic analyst at the Economic Policy Institute, wrote in a blog post Thursday that the Labor Department's report downplays the number of workers who filed for unemployment benefits last week. The actual figure, according to Wolfe, is 1.3 million.

"Astonishingly high numbers of workers continue to claim UI, and we are still 12.9 million jobs short of February employment levels," Wolfe wrote. "And yet, Senate Republicans allowed the across-the-board $600 increase in weekly UI benefits—the most effective economic policy crisis response so far—to expire."

"In an unserious move of political theater, the Trump administration has proposed starting up an entirely new system of restoring wages to laid-off workers through executive order (EO)," Wolfe continued. "But even in their EO wishlist, the Trump administration would slash the federal contribution to enhanced unemployment benefits in half, to $300. This inaction and ongoing uncertainty is causing significant economic pain for workers who have lost their job during the pandemic and their families."

With tens of millions of low-income and middle-class Americans facing financial ruin as the White House and congressional Republicans stonewall an additional relief package, the Washington Post's Heather Long reported Thursday that the coronavirus-induced recession "is over for the rich."

"U.S. stocks are hovering near a record high, a stunning comeback since March that underscores the new phase the economy has entered: The wealthy have mostly recovered. The bottom half remain far from it," Long wrote. "This dichotomy is evident in many facets of the economy, especially in employment. Jobs are fully back for the highest wage earners, but fewer than half the jobs lost this spring have returned for those making less than $20 an hour."

In a statement Thursday, Kyle Herrig, president of advocacy group Accountable.US, slammed the Republican-controlled Senate for opting to "pack up and leave Washington for a month without making a new deal to assist American workers and small business owners."

"The luxuries of paid time off and premium health insurance afforded to senators is of little help to the millions of Americans who lost their jobs during this crisis," said Herrig. "Where is the urgency to get workers and their families the help they need?"

Sen. Ron Wyden (D-Ore.), one of the architects of the now-expired $600-per-week unemployment insurance boost, tweeted: "Donald Trump is suppressing votes to steal an election. Almost 30 million are on unemployment and 160,000 Americans are dead. McConnell just adjourned the Senate for a month." "Every time I think Republicans can't run this country any further into the ground," Wyden wrote, "they prove me wrong."

#Common Dreams #us politics #covid-19 #coronavirus #unemployment #economy #Mitch McConnell #US Senate

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treasure-exo · 7 years

Text

Action! - 3

Genre: Suspense, angst.

Pairing: Baekhyun X You

Word count: 4,682

Description: You’re an actress married to Baekhyun with thousands and millions of your own fans too. So what happens when one of your fans turns into a psychopath stalker.

Your doorbell.

You stood there dumbfounded not knowing what to do further. Your legs moved slowly at first taking one step at a time, realizing that, that someone might be Baekhyun your legs fastened. There was a faint hope in your mind, in your heart, in your senses that, that someone might be Baekhyun. There was a slight smile on your face even when you were utterly exhausted. That smile was from that hope you assumed on your own. When your first heard the doorbell, your heartbeat rose from its normal pace to a faster rhythm. Your mind was on whirlwind of thoughts which only argued with your fear that it was Baekhyun.

You were almost running before you opened your door. Your faintest of hope crumbling down and your slightest of smile fading out in a split of second. You never was disappointed with anything and so you didn’t know what disappointment was until now. You still put on a smile and welcomed the person who came. Chanyeol.

Chanyeol gave you a big, heart-warming smile before he entered. He ruffled Baekho’s hair and tickled him on his sides to make him laugh or to lighten the atmosphere you didn’t know.

He scanned your place and hummed with a nod. You were almost not paying attention to him and was rocking Baekho when Chanyeol patted your shoulder. When you looked up he was having a kind of feeling in his eyes you couldn’t make out. It was a mixture of sympathy, concern, comfort, solace, pity all in one and that’s when you realized how ruthful you might be looking then.

The pat on your shoulder was out of concern for you, for Baekhyun. Though his eyes reflected pity he smiled. You could not stand to see him showing pity towards you, he was always like Baekhyun even more playful than him and now that his eyes showing sympathy, you couldn’t take it. So you looked down avoiding his gaze and trying to show him that you actually were playing with Baekho.

He cleared his throat to catch your attention.

“What Chanyeol?” You asked.

“I know you are having a hard time right now,” He paused for a bit seeming like he was debating on whether to speak up or not. “But please you’ve to look after yourself and your children too. In times like this you’ve to prove that you’re strong and brave. Baekhyun will feel so proud of you.”

“Also trust me he’ll be safe and sound, he’ll just enter and you’ll think yourself stupid for even thinking such things.” He insisted. You knew he was saying this to calm you down and ignite a hope within but he didn’t know what he was saying might even be false and he’ll just end up giving you a fake hope.

You just held your son tight processing his words after all he might even be true and you just will find yourself overthinking. You were not moving until he snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I think you didn’t understood me and by proving yourself I mean you should clean yourself first and do your duties as a mother.” He suggested.

You looked at him, he was having his significant big smile on him again. You tried to smile but it didn’t work. You want to do nothing unless Baekhyun comes.

“But Chanyeo-”

“No, nothing. I’ll not hear any excuses of yours so please, now go and clean yourself up. I’ll take care of Baekho and Baekhye for the time being, also Baek is my friend and it's inappropriate to look at his wife who has not worn anything except of his shirt which is not even covering her full thighs…” He gave you a judging look and that’s when you felt self conscious about only wearing Baekhyun’s shirt and not anything underneath it. You tried to pull the shirt down with one hand trying to cover your thighs.

He took Baekho from your hand and started playing with him. You still didn’t want to do anything until Baekhyun comes back home so you just stood there awkwardly in front of him fidgeting the shirt's fabric with your hands. You were feeling off, feeble ad uneasy. You wanted to believe Chanyeol’s words but your instinct was telling the other way round.

Chanyeol looked up and sighed. He made you turn towards your bedroom and nudged you to move. Unwillingly your feet started walking. Slower than usual.

“Wait, where is Baekhye?” He asked.

You pointed towards her crib inside your bedroom where she was wide awake and playing by her own. Before you could walk to her and pick her up Chanyeol entered and picked her with his spare hand.

He scrutinized the whole room before frowning at you. “Look, I don’t want to know what you two did last night but this whole damn room smell like sex with clothes everywhere. Even the bed is not done yet and what about curtains? Do you always keep them shut? anyway, I’m taking both of them to kitchen to feed them something, please clean yourself and then this room.” He professed.

You nodded vaguely and turned to take a shower. You were perturbed even while taking a warm shower. It should actually calm you down but instead it was only raising your your heartbeat with each passing second and making you pathetic to the fullest. You sat down on the floor water dripping down your body and making you further weak. You didn’t realise you were crying until a sob left your throat, the water from the shower head was concealing your tears. You pulled your legs near your chest and buried your face in between the gap.

It seemed the longest shower you did ever took. Your physique was feeling numb after all the possibilities you thought will happen and being in the shower for too long. You wore the first things that came into your hands and cleaned the room as fast as you can taking extra care with the clothes but you still didn’t made your bed, didn’t wash his clothes, didn’t spray any room freshener because you didn’t want his manly smell to leave your bedroom. You didn’t want the realization to hit you that he’s not with you.

When you came out in the living room, Baekhye was sitting on Junmyeon’s lap playing with her favourite teddy. Junmyeon was smiling seeing Baekhye play, he was enjoying her company until you entered. He looked up. His smiling face turned to a face showing anguish. You couldn’t look at him, you were ashamed and feeling embarrassed that you two didn’t listen to his warning the previous day.

“Chanyeol will be back in few minutes, he went to give Baekho a bath and clean him. Now you should clean Baekhye up too before the important talk.” He suggested.

“Important talk?”

“Regarding Baekhyun.”

You nodded, understanding the need to talk about Baekhyun.

After giving a bath to Baekhye, you all gathered at the dining table. It was late afternoon and your stomach was rumbling with hunger. It was almost almost twenty hours you had eaten anything but more than that, you were worried for Baekhyun. He didn’t even had dinner yesterday so for him it was more than twenty four hours and he loves eating.

You completely ignored your growing hunger and let Junmyeon start the conversation first.

“I’m not here to scold you or anything, I warned you both yesterday and you both didn’t took it seriously but I’m not blaming you or him for his sudden disappearance. It already happened and now we have to look for him. He’s missing.” Junmyeon’s voice was significant. He was being honest and you knew but still, saying that out loud was more painful then you thought it would be. Your heart was thumping fast and you suddenly felt nervous.

Chanyeol sensed your uneasiness and started. “Junmyeon, you can’t say anything unless it’s confirmed. What if Baekhyun just comes back and says he forgot telling her.” He questioned.

“There’s no point in hiding the fact that Baekhyun is gone - not on his own will - or rather kidnapped by that stupid stalker fan. She needs to know this and understand this as soon as possible, she can’t raise her hopes high just to crush them with a true statement which is Baekhyun is lost.”

Tears started brimming at the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore, the pain and realization of something bad had happened with your husband was hitting you all at once.

“I understand Junmyeon, please go ahead.” You sputtered, voice wavering.

He nodded once.

“Okay, so first I advice reporting this to the police. They’ll handle this more efficiently and quickly. Also, this matter should not reach in the hands of media otherwise it would create an outrage among his fans and create unnecessary jealousy and hatred towards her. Second I suppose Chanyeol informed our managers and other members regarding this so if they know anything, they can contact the police. I called some of the members to say Baekhyun is fine and not to worry.”

Chanyeol’s anger was rising at each word Junmyeon was speaking. He balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes until Junmyeon completed.

“Why are you sounding like you don’t care about anyone’s feelings! I know that we should report this and all but try to understand, Baekhyun is important, to her, to me, to his children, to every member. But you are making like you don’t care and until now you didn’t even showed your concern or any feeling towards him or her, just kept on going with all the police shit!”

“Look, Chanyeol I do care for Baekhyun. Scratch that, I’m more worried than anyone else might be. Just because I’m not showing do not mean I don’t care. After hearing what you told me on phone, I was not knowing what to do. I was devastated. I just sat for sometime and was thinking about Baekhyun and his wife, his position in our group and relation with all the members. I’m holding myself back for everyone to be strong otherwise being a leader if I become weak, all will break apart.” Junmyeon stammered.

Chanyeol nodded, anger still reflected from his acton. You were still listening to Junmyeon and decided to go with whatever opinion he had.

“Okay Junmyeon, I agree with you. We should report this to police first and after that we'll see what happens because I no longer want to be weak and I want to find Baekhyun as soon as possible.” You said holding Baekhye tight and kissing her temple.

Junmyeon called the manager to give the news and to inform about reporting it to the police so that no Exo member would be involved in legal matters. He was calling again to someone, this time you didn’t know who the person was but the way he was talking seemed like he knew the person and was talking about the sudden disappearance of his fellow member.

You and Chanyeol looked at each other in utter confusion to who he was talking to and that too about the disappearance.

As soon as Junmyeon’s call ended he looked up with a smile. Not a happy smile though yet it conveyed relief which was difficult with the current situation.

“Oh, I called my detective friend who will help us with this matter. I thought I should call him, it will be better for us and for Baekhyun too. He’ll work with his team so we will be able to find Baekhyun faster.”

You could see him holding back words he wanted to say, emotions he wanted to show, feelings he wanted to express but couldn’t as he said being a leader he couldn’t show what he wanted to. He had to be strong enough for others to be strong as well.

With the current situation - which no one knew completely what was going on - you both had given everyone unnecessary tension and stress to deal with. You were already feeling guilty for not listening to Junmyeon in first place and now with his ebb you made everyone anxious.

Afternoon converted into evening. The longest afternoon so far.

You ate after Chanyeol and Junmyeon forced you to have something nutritious and made sure you took time for yourself instead of feeling guilty about all the happenings.

Junmyeon left after he made sure you were stable again and okay. Chanyeol was still helping you in taking care of Baekhye and Baekho while you were preparing for the dinner. You were so grateful to Chanyeol for being a helping hand in a situation like this.

Your phone was ringing frequently from the other members, asking for Baekhyun and his whereabouts, some even paid a visit and assured you, even though you knew, that assurance was their sympathy.

You could not make yourself work faster. Your every exertion was leading your thoughts towards Baekhyun and you couldn’t help yourself but to think about the possibilities of where he might be.

You were lost in your thought when your doorbell rang again.

You looked up from your mixing bowl and ran towards the main door. Now, every doorbell left you thinking there might be Baekhyun behind the doors. You cleaned your hands on the apron on the way and opened the door.

A new man.

“Hello! Ms Byun? I’m Chief Detective Yoon Jaeshin, friend of Kim Junmyeon. I’ll be working on this case privately so no need to worry about any information getting leaked. This is my team - Detective Lee and Detective Nam. So, now if you will allow us, we would like to ask you few questions regarding the case and a thorough search of your mansion.”

You moved aside from threshold so they can enter. Detective Yoon, a man with strong build and towering height, clearly muscular with a fierce look in his eyes with which one can get easily scared. His nature and manner of speaking, though it was strict it showed softness. Detective Lee and Detective Nam were of same build, just not as towering height as the lead.

Chanyeol was making your twins engaged with work when the team of detectives entered. He looked towards them and then towards you. You nodded in assurance and gestured him to keep doing what he was.

They started searching for all the evidences in each of your rooms and picked some carefully with gloves and tweezers so their fingerprints would not be found later. They took his car keys, phone and the bloody letters into custody. It seemed they were searching for something specific which they were not getting.

You stood in the living room, talking with Chanyeol while they were doing their job.

“Chanyeol, you know by all this I should not but I’m scared. They should find Baekhyun as fast as possible. He loves eating and being loud and goofy, I can not imagine him in pain. please tell them to find him quickly.” You began.

“Don’t worry too much it will give you wrinkles and when Baekhyun will be back, he would not like those.” He teased.

You were going to scold Chanyeol when the Detective team came out in living room.

“Hello, I’m Detective Nam and I would like to interrogate you. Now, for that will you please take a comfortable seat so that we can start.” His voice was thick and contained superiority.

You nodded and sat on the sofa with Detective Nam on the other side of the coffee table.

“When was the last time you saw him and where?”

“This morning around 6 in our bedroom.”

“Okay, next. Did he told you about anything in the last few days like where he wanted to go or do you know why?”

“No, wherever he goes, before going he tells me by any means but today he wasn’t there beside me when I woke up and even his phone was on the nightstand.”

“Do you suspect anyone who would do something like this or does he had any bad relation with anyone?”

“No I do not suspect anyone and he was playful and mischievous that I doubt someone would even be in bad terms with him.”

“Last question, do you have anything of him from which we can get DNA, like his hair or nail or saliva? We examined his clothes, pillow and comb but we got nothing, if you have anything it would be of great help.”

You tried to remember but nothing.

“I’m sorry but will anything from the following would count of our twins?”

“Uhm.. No. It will have mixed DNA and I’m afraid it will not work. Anyway, thank you for your time, if we have any other questions we will contact you later. We’ll try to solve this case as fast as possible.” He bowed and was about to leave.

“Wait! Will sperms count?” You asked, embarrassed of what to say next and internally hoping for no further questions.

“Yes, definitely but if hair and nail is difficult to find, sperms will be even more difficult.”

“It is not but they are on a tissue.”

“That will work, we’ll manage. Just don’t touch that tissue and show us where it is.”

You didn’t get rid of the tissues he used, to clean you last night and they were still inside the garbage bin. You showed them even if you were embarrassed to share such a intimate information with a person whom you just met.

They picked it up with the help of tweezers and put it inside a transparent evidence bag.

“Detective, do whatever you can or take whatever you want but please bring him back. Safe.” You beseeched him before he nodded and left the room.

You sat on the floor and pulled your legs near your chest. Your hands hugged your knees and your head rested on them. The current situation was getting dense by each passing second and you can’t do anything. You felt useless and helpless.

A large hand was rubbing your back gently. The feeling almost like a feather contradicting the size. You could not help but sob a little. The soft touch was still there on your back, patting now.

You stood up and rubbed off your tears which could further make you weak. You wanted to be strong for your fluffballs, so whenever Baekhyun would be back, he would feel at least proud of you.

“Chanyeol, I know this is not enough but thank you very… much. It meant a lot to me today and it will to Baekhyun too. Thank you for supporting me and resisting me from becoming weak any further. I appreciated your every effort for taking care of my twins when Baek is not around.” You bowed and finally looked him in his eyes.

He was surprised by your words. His lips formed a O but no words came out.

“You are not throwing me out, right? I mean by saying all those words I felt you want me to leave.” He murmured.

He muffled his laughter, trying to hide it behind his hands but completely failing.

“Yes… You can say I am.” You joked. First time, on a day so horrible and you chuckled.

“Anyway, have dinner before you leave. You worked really hard today.” You smiled and left for the kitchen.

“So you are literally throwing me out. I see.” He said in between his laughs, following you.

Chanyeol went home after having dinner and you were left all alone again. You have to get over this until Baek comes back, you understand everyday someone can not come to make you feel better and accompany you. Everyone will have their own priorities and have to complete them before you and your problems.

The only way to get out of the feeling of loneliness is to spend time with your fluffballs. There is an advantage of them being with you - They resembled Baekhyun. You were very thankful they existed. You looked at them and could feel Baekhyun near you, a feeling you are craving for. You don’t want this feeling but you want him which seemed far, far away from where you are now.

That night you could not sleep. Your bed was feeling empty and cold without Baekhyun. You lay as if asleep until your side hurts and you must shift to other side. Long minutes dragged into even longer hours but you refuse to look at the clock. You were afraid to see if it was still midnight or it turned to two, just looking at it could make your heart race and undo the effect of being restful. The relaxing music you put on at bed-time finished long ago making you remember his voice, his beautiful voice he sings only for you sometimes. You remained silent, you suspected it would be closer to dawn but you figured out you didn’t care anymore.

You didn’t made your bed clean because you didn’t want to remove his smell from the bedsheet, your comforter and pillows. You hugged the comforter tight so at least his smell can make you fall asleep.

You didn’t put Baekhye and Baekho in their cribs instead you laid them on the bed next to you under the same comforter. The only way you would not be alone and at least get some sleep. It was quite late when you fell asleep being tired and exhausted, realizing Baekhye held your pinky with her tiny hands while sleeping.

On one such nights, staying up late - waiting for Baekhyun to show up out of nowhere was also a possibility you kept in mind - you sung lullabies to your fluffballs so they would not suffer from the bizarre occurrences and inconvenience you were facing from the last few days.

You had completely lost your tolerance and patience for seeing your husband.

You were sitting cross legged on the floor holding your son’s little hands and your thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand. Head lying on the bedsheet, still humming the last lullaby. You felt wetness on bedsheet near your face. You were crying.

You let your tears flow down your cheeks and on the sheet.

“You both are missing your dad right?” You sniffed to stop the snot running down.

“I know you both are. I can feel that in your actions even if you can’t speak. I can not make you laugh how your dad used to, I am just a bad wife and mother.” A sob or two left your throat while speaking.

“It’s been four days since your dad went missing and I can’t do anything. I don’t even know where he is or what he is doing. I’m feeling so useless. I can’t even tell this to uncle Chanyeol, he knows already and I will look pathetic in front of him.” You rubbed your eyes hard to make your tears stop but instead you made them sore and red. You knew your cheeks and nose would have turned red until now but you couldn’t care.

“I want to help but don’t know how to. I call those detectives daily but they are also getting nowhere with this case. I want him to be safe wherever he is. Your mom is so pathetic, isn’t she?” You lamented.

You slept like that cross legged on the floor, weeping and rambling on the bedsheet and holding your son’s hand.

Time had chosen a different path, more hollow than ever it was, more quiet moments to think though the oblivion of sleep would be kinder. He was your safety, your harbor, a place to call home and come back every time you leave no matter where you were. In all those wakeful hours, he was fading and beneath it all is a shock you couldn’t quite let express, because every time your eyes get closed your nightmare solidifies, hope fades and the ill feeling returns. Falling asleep alone was troublesome especially when you knew he was in danger.

Insomnia haunted your nights and fatigue ruled your days. You needed to be lucid and clear but came with the hours of darkness in the comfort of your bed. Your mind gets lit up with all the new possibilities, new sources of danger and destruction. You want to let them go and relax, but soon your mind told you what could go wrong tomorrow because of the blunders you made today.

When you finally slept, you woke after fistful of hours as if a whole night had passed but it hadn’t. Every morning waking up, you had dark circles and eye bags which tend to grow even larger.

A week seemed much longer than how it sounds and even longer when the most beloved person is absent from it. You got to understand the meaning of it today when a whole week passed without him.

You woke up just to finish a another long, long day ahead. Doing daily chores and taking care of your fluffballs were the only things that was left for you to do. Jiyeon came daily but you gave her a leave so that she could spend some time for herself, when in reality it was for the fact that she shouldn't get to know the private information.

It was late afternoon when someone rang your doorbell. He was Chanyeol and with him was Yixing who came directly after their schedules.

You saw Yixing for the first time in awhile, everyone but Yixing visited you at least for once. Yixing was a person to care for people before he could care for himself.

Chanyeol visited you daily even if it was for five minutes to know everything is okay and if there is any progress in finding Baekhyun.

“I’m so sorry, I hadn’t even visited you once as I was not in the country but that now I’m, I would like to clear my mistake and visit you frequently. If you allow…” Yixing cooed looking for any signs on your face to disagree with him.

“If you want to, you can definitely. But I don’t want to be a hindrance in your daily routine. I told Chanyeol too but he just ignores my appeals and do as he wishes.” You smiled at Yixing.

He smiled back. “No, helping a friend is not at all a hindrance for me. I’d be pleased if I can be of any help. Oh! and this, I found it in your mailbox earlier.”

He handed you a similar white envelope with similar handwriting written on top - the receiver’s address. You extended your hand to take it. Your heart was racing and your hand was shaking just by seeing the envelope.

Chanyeol froze on his spot, eyes staring at the white envelope and gulping down his own saliva making a noise. He huffed out air and looked up.

You were taken aback by the sudden mail you just received. You made yourself steady before grabbing the envelope. You took a deep breath and calmed yourself before deciding to open up the envelope.

The sound of the paper tearing filled the room. You handed the torn piece of paper to Chanyeol. Slowly and anxiously you peeped inside the envelope.

A note.

You took that note out and opened it. It was a two sided message with numbers written on top for the order to read.

Words were clear yet you couldn’t understand. Letters felt new and words jumbled. You frowned further trying to make out the words.

“What is it? What does it says?” Chanyeol asked.

“It is a riddle we’ve to solve to get back Baekhyun.”

“Read it.” Yixing commented.

You nodded, concentration on that piece of paper you were going to read.

“(1): ‘Find an OLD man who shaves several times a day at this workplace, yet he still has a beard.’ ”

“(2): ‘Find the true old ancient hombre if you want to see you’re husband again~

Yours truly, A fan.’ ”

A/N: So part 3 is up now. Thanks for all the love I got for this piece.

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