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hopelesslys-world · 10 months

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50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 2

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

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𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. Was all I could focus on as soon as the elevator doors closed and she disappeared.

“Andrea,” I bark as I return to my office. “Get me Welch on the line, now.”

As I sit at my desk and wait for the call.

I look at the paintings on the wall of my office and Miss Y/L/N’s words drift back to me. “Raising the ordinary to extraordinary.” She could so easily have been describing herself.

My phone buzzes. “I have Mr. Welch on the line for you.”

“Put him through.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Welch, I need a background check.”

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•••

Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N

DOB: ( The Month and day you were born ). 1989, Montesano, WA

Address: 1114 SW Green Street, Apartment 7, Haven Heights, Vancouver, WA 98888

Mobile No: 360-959-4352

Social Security No: 987-65-4320

Bank: Wells Fargo Bank, Vancouver, WA:

Acct. No.: 309361: $683.16 balance

Occupation: Undergraduate Student WSU Vancouver College of Arts and Sciences English Major

GPA: 4.0

Prior Education: Montesano Jr. Sr. High School

SAT Score: 2150

Employment: Clayton’s Hardware Store, NW Vancouver Drive, Portland, OR (part-time)

Father: Franklin A. Lambert, DOB: Sept. 1, 1969, Deceased (The day before your birthday), 1989

Mother: Carla May Wilks Adams,

DOB: July 18, 1970

m. Frank Lambert March 1, 1989,

widowed (The day before your birthday), 1989

m. Raymond Y/L/N June 6, 1990,

divorced July 12, 2006

m. Stephen M. Morton Aug. 16, 2006,

divorced Jan. 31, 2007

Current Marriage Situation: m. Bob Adams April 6, 2009

Political Affiliations: None Found

Religious Affiliations: None Found

Sexual Orientation: Not Known

Relationships: None Indicated at Present

•••

I pore over the executive summary for the hundredth time since I received it two days ago, looking for some insight into the enigmatic Miss Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. I cannot get the damned woman out of my mind, and it’s seriously beginning to piss me off.

This past week, during particularly dull meetings, I’ve found myself replaying the interview in my head. Her fumbling fingers on the recorder, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the lip biting. Yes. The lip biting gets me every time.

And now here I am, parked outside Clayton’s, a mom-and-pop hardware store on the outskirts of Portland where she works.

You’re a fool, Grey. Why are you here?

I knew it would lead to this. All week…I knew I’d have to see her again. I’d known it since she uttered my name in the elevator. I’d tried to resist. I’d waited five days, five tedious days, to see if I’d forget about her. And I don’t do waiting. I hate waiting…for anything.

I’ve never pursued a woman before. The women I’ve had understood what I expected of them. My fear now is that Miss Y/L/N is just too young and that she won’t be interested in what I have to offer.

Will she? Will she even make a good submissive?

I shake my head. So here I am, an ass, sitting in a suburban parking lot in a dreary part of Portland. Her background check has produced nothing remarkable—except the last fact, which has been atthe forefront of my mind.

It’s the reason I’m here.

Why no boyfriend, Miss Y/L/N? Sexual orientation unknown—perhaps she’s gay. I snort, thinking that unlikely. I recall the question she asked during the interview, her acute embarrassment, the way her skin flushed a pale rose…I’ve been suffering from these lascivious thoughts since I met her.

That’s why you’re here. I’m itching to see her again—those eyes have haunted me, even in my dreams.

I haven’t mentioned her to Flynn, and I’m glad because I’m now behaving like a stalker. Perhaps I should let him know. No. I don’t want him hounding me about his latest solution-based-therapy shit.

I just need a distraction, and right now the only distraction I want is the one working as a salesclerk in a hardware store.

You’ve come all this way.

Let’s see if little Miss Y/L/N is as appealing as I remember.

Showtime, Grey.

A bell chimes a flat electronic note as I walk into the store. It’s much bigger than it looks from the outside, and although it’s almost lunchtime the place is quiet, for a Saturday. There are aisles and aisles of the usual junk you’d expect.

I’d forgotten the possibilities that a hardware store could present to someone like me. I mainly shop online for my needs, but while I’m here, maybe I’ll stock up on a few items: Velcro, split rings—Yeah. I’ll find the delectable Miss Y/L/N and have some fun.

It takes me all of three seconds to spot her. She’s hunched over the counter, staring intently at a computer screen and picking at her lunch—a bagel. Absentmindedly, she wipes a crumb from the corner of her lips and into her mouth and sucks on her finger.

My cock twitches in response.

What am I, fourteen? My body’s reaction is irritating. Maybe this will stop if I fetter, fuck, and flog her…and not necessarily in that order. Yeah. That’s what I need.

She is thoroughly absorbed by her task, and it gives me an opportunity to study her. Salacious thoughts aside, she’s attractive, seriously attractive. I’ve remembered her well.

She looks up and freezes. It’s as unnerving as the first time I met her. She pins me with a discerning stare—shocked, I think—and I don’t know if this is a good response or a bad response.

“Miss Y/L/N. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Mr. Grey,” she says, breathy and flustered. Ah, a good response.

“I was in the area. I need to stock up on a few things. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” A real pleasure.

She’s dressed in a tight T-shirt and pants, kind of disappointing, earlier this week all she wore was flattering mini skirts and sweaters.

She’s all long legs, narrow waist, and perfect tits. Her lips are still parted in surprise, and I have to resist the urge to tip her chin up and close her mouth.

I’ve flown from Seattle just to see you, and the way you look right now, it was really worth the journey.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N. What can I help you with, Mr. Grey?” She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders like she did in the interview, and gives me a fake smile that I’m sure she reserves for customers.

Game on, Miss Y/L/N. “There are a few items I need. To start with, I’d like some cable ties.” My request catches her off guard; she looks stunned.

Oh, this is going to be fun. You’d be amazed what I can do with a few cable ties, baby.

“We stock various lengths. Shall I show you?” she says, finding her voice.

“Please. Lead the way.”

She steps out from behind the counter and gestures toward one of the aisles. She’s wearing Converse shoes.

Idly I wonder what she’d look like in skyscraper heels. Louboutins…nothing but Louboutins.

“They’re with the electrical goods, aisle eight.” Her voice wavers and she blushes…

She is affected by me. Hope blooms in my chest. She’s not gay, then. I smirk.

“After you.” I hold my hand out for her to lead the way. Letting her walk ahead gives me the space and time to admire her fantastic ass. Her long, thick hair keeps time like a metronome to the gentle sway of her hips. She really is the whole package: sweet, polite, and beautiful, with all the physical attributes I value in a submissive.

But the million-dollar question is, could she be a submissive? She probably knows nothing of the lifestyle—my lifestyle—but I very much want to introduce her to it. You are getting way ahead of yourself on this deal, Grey.

“Are you in Portland on business?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice is high; she’s feigning disinterest. It makes me want to laugh. Women rarely make me laugh.

“I was visiting the WSU farming division. It’s based in Vancouver,” I lie. Actually, I’m here to see you, Miss Y/L/N.

Her face falls, and I feel like a shit.

“I’m currently funding some research there in crop rotation and soil science.” That, at least, is true.

“All part of your feed-the-world plan?” She arches a brow, amused.

“Something like that,” I mutter. Is she laughing at me? Oh, I’d love to put a stop to that if she is.

But how to start? Maybe with dinner, rather than the usual interview…now, that would be novel: taking a prospect out to dinner.

We arrive at the cable ties, which are arranged in an assortment of lengths and colors. Absentmindedly, my fingers trace over the packets. I could just ask her out for dinner. Like on a date?

Would she accept? When I glance at her she’s examining her knotted fingers. She can’t look at me… this is promising. I select the longer ties. They are more flexible, after all, as they can accommodate two ankles and two wrists at once.

“These will do.”

“Is there anything else?” she says quickly—either she’s being super-attentive or she wants to get me out of the store, I don’t know which.

“I’d like some masking tape.”

“Are you redecorating?”

“No, not redecorating.” Oh, if you only knew…

“This way,” she says. “Masking tape is in the decorating aisle.”

Come on, Grey. You don’t have much time. Engage her in some conversation. “Have you worked here long?” Of course, I already know the answer. Unlike some people, I do my research. For some reason she’s embarrassed.

Fuck, this girl is shy. I don’t have a hope in hell. She turns quickly andwalks down the aisle toward the section labeled Decorating. I follow her eagerly, like a puppy.

“Four years,” she mumbles as we reach the masking tape. She bends down and grasps two rolls, each a different width.

“I’ll take that one.” The wider tape is much more effective as a gag. As she passes it to me, the tips of our fingers touch, briefly. It resonates in my groin. Damn!

She pales. “Anything else?” Her voice is soft and husky.

I’m having the same effect on her that she has on me. Maybe… “Some rope, I think.”

“This way.” She scoots up the aisle, giving me another chance to appreciate her fine ass.

“What sort were you after? We have synthetic and natural filament rope…twine…cable cord…”

Shit—stop. I groan inwardly, trying to chase away the image of her suspended from the ceiling in my playroom. “I’ll take five yards of the natural filament rope, please.” It’s coarser and chafes more if you struggle against it…my rope of choice.

A tremor runs through her fingers, but she measures out five yards like a pro. Pulling a utility knife from her right pocket, she cuts the rope in one swift gesture, coils it neatly, and ties it off with a slipknot. Impressive.

“Were you a Girl Scout?”

“Organized group activities aren’t really my thing, Mr. Grey.”

“What is your thing, Y/N?” Her pupils dilate as I stare.

Yes!

“Books,” she answers.

“What kind of books?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. The classics. British literature, mainly.”

British literature? The Brontës and Austen, I bet. All those romantic hearts-and-flowers types.

That’s not good.

“Anything else you need?”

“I don’t know. What else would you recommend?” I want to see her reaction.

“For a do-it-yourselfer?” she asks, surprised.

I want to hoot with laughter. Oh, baby, DIY is not my thing. I nod, stifling my mirth. Her eyes flick down my body and I tense. She’s checking me out!

“Coveralls,” she blurts out.

It’s the most unexpected thing I’ve heard her say since the “Are you gay?” question.

“You wouldn’t want to ruin your clothing.” She gestures to my jeans.

I can’t resist. “I could always take them off.”

“Um.” She flushes beet red and stares down.

I put her out of her misery. “I’ll take some coveralls. Heaven forbid I should ruin any clothing.”

Without a word, she turns and walks briskly up the aisle, and I follow in her enticing wake. “Do you need anything else?” she says, sounding breathless as she hands me a pair of blue coveralls. She’s mortified, eyes still cast down. Christ, she does things to me.

“How’s the article coming along?” I ask, in the hope she might relax a little.

She looks up and gives me a brief relieved smile.

Finally.

“I’m not writing it, Bella is. Miss Clark. My roommate, she’s the writer. She’s very happy with it. She’s the editor of the newspaper, and she was devastated that she couldn’t do the interview in person.”

It’s the longest sentence she’s uttered since we first met, and she’s talking about someone else, not herself. Interesting.

Before I can comment, she adds, “Her only concern is that she doesn’t have any original photographs of you.”

The tenacious Miss Clark wants photographs. Publicity stills, eh? I can do that. It will allow me to spend time with the delectable Miss Y/L/N.

“What sort of photographs does she want?”

She gazes at me for a moment, then shakes her head, perplexed, not knowing what to say.

“Well, I’m around. Tomorrow, perhaps…” I can stay in Portland. Work from a hotel. A room at The Heathman, perhaps. I’ll need Taylor to come down, bring my laptop and some clothes. Or Elliot —unless he’s screwing around, which is his usual thing to do over the weekend.

“You’d be willing to do a photo shoot?” She cannot contain her surprise.

I give her a brief nod. Yeah, I want to spend more time with you… Steady, Grey.

“Bella will be delighted—if we can find a photographer.” She smiles and her face lights up like a cloudless dawn. She’s breathtaking.

“Let me know about tomorrow.” I pull my wallet from my jeans. “My card. It has my cell number on it. You’ll need to call before ten in the morning.” And if she doesn’t, I’ll head on back to Seattle and forget about this stupid venture.

The thought depresses me.

“Okay.” She continues to grin.

“Y/N!” We both turn as a young man dressed in casual designer gear appears at the far end of the aisle. His eyes are all over Miss Y/N Y/L/N. Who the hell is this prick?

“Er, excuse me for a moment, Mr. Grey.” She walks toward him, and the asshole engulfs her in a gorilla-like hug. My blood runs cold. It’s a primal response.

Get your fucking paws off her.

I fist my hands when she returns his hug.

They fall into a whispered conversation. Maybe Welch’s facts were wrong. Maybe this guy is her boyfriend. He looks the right age, and he can’t take his greedy little eyes off her. He holds her for a moment at arm’s length, examining her, then stands with his arm resting on her shoulder. It seems like a casual gesture, but I know he’s staking a claim and telling me to back off. She seems embarrassed, shifting from foot to foot.

Shit. I should go. I’ve overplayed my hand. She’s with this guy.

Then she says something else to him and moves out of his reach, touching his arm, not his hand, shrugging him off. It’s clear they aren’t close.

Good.

“Er…Paul, this is Christian Grey. Mr. Grey, this is Paul Clayton. His brother owns the place.”

She gives me an odd look that I don’t understand and continues, “I’ve known Paul ever since I’ve worked here, though we don’t see each other that often. He’s back from Princeton, where he’s studying business administration.” She’s babbling, giving me a long explanation and telling me they’re not together, I think.

The boss’s brother, not a boyfriend. I’m relieved, but the extent of the relief I feel is unexpected, and it makes me frown. This woman has really gotten under my skin.

“Mr. Clayton.” My tone is deliberately clipped.

“Mr. Grey.” His handshake is limp, like his hair. Asshole. “Wait up—not the Christian Grey? Of Grey Enterprises Holdings?”

Yeah, that’s me, you prick.

In a heartbeat I watch him morph from territorial to obsequious.

“Wow—is there anything I can get you?”

“Y/N has it covered, Mr. Clayton. She’s been very attentive.” Now fuck off.

“Cool,” he gushes, all white teeth and deferential. “Catch you later, Y/N/N.”

“Sure, Paul,” she says, and he ambles off to the back of the store. I watch him disappear.

“Anything else, Mr. Grey?”

“Just these items,” I mutter. Shit, I’m out of time, and I still don’t know if I’m going to see her again. I have to know whether there’s a hope in hell she might consider what I have in mind.

How can I ask her? Am I ready to take on a submissive who knows nothing? She’s going to need substantial training. Closing my eyes, I imagine the interesting possibilities this presents…getting there is going to be half the fun. Will she even be up for this? Or do I have it all wrong?

She walks back to the cashier’s counter and rings up my purchases, all the while keeping her eyes on the register.

Look at me, damn it! I want to see her face again and gauge what she’s thinking.

Finally she raises her head. “That will be forty-three dollars, please.”

Is that all?

“Would you like a bag?” she asks, as I pass her my AmEx.

“Please, Y/N.” Her name—a beautiful name for a beautiful girl—flows smoothly over my tongue.

She packs the items briskly. This is it. I have to go.

“You’ll call me if you want me to do the photo shoot?”

She nods as she hands back my charge card.

“Good. Until tomorrow, perhaps.” I can’t just leave.

I have to let her know I’m interested.

“Oh— and Y/N I’m glad Miss Clark couldn’t do the interview.” She looks surprised and flattered. This is good. I sling the bag over my shoulder and exit the store.

Yes, against my better judgment, I want her. Now I have to wait…fucking wait…again. Utilizing willpower that would make Elena proud, I keep my eyes ahead as I take my cell out of my pocket and climb into the rental car. I’m deliberately not looking back at her. I’m not. I’m not. My eyes flick to the rearview mirror, where I can see the shop door, but all I see is the quaint storefront. She’s not in the window, staring out at me.

It’s disappointing.

I press 1 on speed dial and Taylor answers before the phone has a chance to ring.

“Mr. Grey,” he says.

“Make reservations at The Heathman; I’m staying in Portland this weekend, and can you bring down the SUV, my computer, and the paperwork beneath it, and a change or two of clothes.”

“Yes, sir. And Charlie Tango?”

“Have Joe move her to PDX.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll be with you in about three and a half hours.”

I hang up and start the car. So I have a few hours in Portland while I wait to see if this girl is interested in me. What to do? Time for a hike, I think. Maybe I can walk this strange hunger out of my system.

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It's been five hours with no phone call from the delectable Miss Y/L/N. What the hell was thinking? I watch the street from the window of my suite at The Heathman. I loathe waiting. I always have.

The weather, now cloudy, held for my hike through Forest Park, but the walk has done nothing to cure my agitation. I’m annoyed at her for not phoning, but mostly I’m angry with myself.

I’m a fool for being here. What a waste of time it’s been chasing this woman. When have I ever chased a woman?

Grey, get a grip.

Sighing, I check my phone once again in the hope that I’ve just missed her call, but there’s nothing. At least Taylor has arrived and I have all my shit. I have Barney’s report on his department’s graphene tests to read and I can work in peace.

Peace? I haven’t known peace since Miss Y/L/N walked into my office.

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When I glance up, dusk has shrouded my suite in gray shadows. The prospect of a night alone again is depressing. While I contemplate what to do my phone vibrates against the polished wood of the desk and an unknown but vaguely familiar number with a Washington area code flashes on the screen.

Suddenly my heart is pumping as if I’ve run ten miles.

Is it her?

I answer.

“Er…Mr. Grey? It’s Y/N Y/L/N.”

My face erupts in a shit-eating grin.

Well, well. A breathy, nervous, soft-spoken Miss Y//L/N. My evening is looking up. “Miss Y/L/N. How nice to hear from you.” I hear her breath hitch and the sound travels directly tomy groin.

Great. I’m affecting her. Like she’s affecting me.

“Um—we’d like to go ahead with the photo shoot for the article. Tomorrow, if that’s okay. Where would be convenient for you, sir?”

In my room. Just you, me, and the cable ties.

“I’m staying at The Heathman in Portland. Shall we say nine thirty tomorrow morning?”

“Okay, we’ll see you there,” she gushes, unable to hide the relief and delight in her voice.

“I look forward to it, Miss Y/L/N” I hang up before she senses my excitement and how pleased I am. Leaning back in my chair, I gaze at the darkening skyline and run both my hands through my hair.

How the hell am I going to close this deal?

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[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

#christian grey smut #christian grey #christian grey x reader #christian grey x you #christian grey x yn #smut #series #50 shades of gray #stalking #jamie dornan #christian grey fanfic

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peakyswritings · 2 years

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Longest train I ever saw

Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: they met, fell in love and built a family. But some things aren’t meant to last.

Warnings: mentions of war

A/N: this is for @retromafia ‘s celebration! Congrats again, darling🎉❤️. It’s inspired by “Longest train I ever saw” - Joan Baez. It’s a bit short, but I hope you like it🤍

Gif credit

It was a misty morning when (Y/n) met Tommy Shelby. She was sitting in a field, enjoying the cool breeze flowing through her hair, when a young man - who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere - fell off his horse right in front of her.

He had bright eyes, and a mischievous smile that foreshadowed all of the trouble he was capable of causing.

He was just a boy at the time, with a passion for horses and dreams much bigger than him. He was always thinking and scheming, leaving (Y/n) to often wonder what was going on in that mind of his. He was smart, and cunning. And he was the only boy that she had ever loved.

Her parents didn’t really like him or trust him, convinced that he was up to no good. He walked around with a pocket knife, had a history of pickpocketing and was believed to lay curses on people. But with a little bit of patience and a whole lot of charm, Tommy eventually won them over.

He proposed to her on that same field on 1912, with a ring he had spent almost all of his savings on.

“Marry me. I’ll buy us - not a house. A fucking mansion. Just for the two of us, and our future children.”

(Y/n) had giggled at his statement, sure that it wouldn’t be possible for people like them to achieve something like that. And she didn’t need a mansion, as long as she was with him. His house at Watery Lane was enough. It was filled with love and memories, and it had always felt like home.

A year after their marriage, little Francis was born. He had Tommy’s blue eyes and dark hair, but his mother’s temperament. That innocent child had no clue how much the thought of him used to scare his parents, at first.

During her pregnancy, (Y/n) frequently had to reassure her husband, who was terrified at the possibility of turning out like his father. Arthur Shelby Sr. used to beat his wife and children, and he walked out on his family. That example was all Tommy had ever known.

(Y/n) never admitted she was scared as well. What if she just wasn’t good enough to be a mother? She could barely take care of herself, after all.

But as soon as their son opened his big eyes on them, all of their fears faded in an instant. The creature in their arms was their whole world. Everything that used to matter was nothing compared to that.

Tommy was a good father. He kissed his son goodbye every morning before going to work and every night before putting him to bed, he put shoes on his little feet and gloves on his tiny hands when it was cold outside. One night, (Y/n) caught Tommy cradling Francis to make him fall asleep, whispering sweet words to him. She tenderly smiled as she heard him promise that he wouldn’t repeat his father’s mistakes, that he would always protect him, give him everything he couldn’t have, teach him all of the things he had to learn by himself; that he wouldn’t miss his first steps, his first day of school, or his first love.

But life had other plans for them, because Tommy would’ve never walked him to school for his first day, he would’ve never seen him sheepishly give their neighbours’ daughter a flower crown.

It was a misty morning when the longest train that (Y/n) had ever seen took her husband to war. Away from her, away from their son. She helplessly watched as it became smaller and smaller, until it was gone, like it had never been there. He was gone.

She looked at the child in her arms, who was too young to comprehend why his mother was crying so much. He would’ve never understood why his father wasn’t there to kiss him every morning and every night, to put shoes on his little feet and gloves on his tiny hands.

After taking one deep breath, (Y/n) wiped away her tears and started to walk in the opposite direction.

She would’ve done all of that on her own. She would’ve been both the woman and the man of the house. She could make it. She had to make it.

Tag list: @arwyn-the-cyrptic-bisexural @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby fic

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paperjunk · 1 year

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Life or Death - Chapter 11

Summary: Anger issues and memories of a horrific past biting at her heels, Kenzie Ames is pulled back into active service. Sent to Top Gun to help train a handful of Navy Pilots on how to survive their next mission, Ames’ resentment and anger may hurt her and those around her more than she knows if she can’t get it under control. Secrets weighing her down, Ames soon finds a Lieutenant’s persistent desire to know her maybe more than she can handle as the clock ticks away the time she has to make sure that not only do they come home, but the part of herself she left back in the cold, barren, tundra does too.

Author Notes: I am out of practice writing fanfiction. Sorry. This is an OC x Bradly Bradshaw or Reader x Bradly Bradshaw. All 3rd person pov.

Table of Contents: Will update as we go.

It happened so fast that Ames didn't have time to react when she felt Rooster's tongue brush lightly against her lips just as he pressed his mouth to hers. Fingers twisting into her hair, cupping the base of her skull, the kiss was hungry and unrelenting. Feeling his hand slip down her back, fingers pressing gently into her waist, tugging her up onto her knees, she followed, refusing to break the kiss that had set something inside of her on fire. Rooster drew Ames against him, his head tipping back as her legs straddled him in the opaque confinement of the hanger.

Sliding his hands up the soft arc of her back, fingers wrapping around the edge of her shoulders. Pulling her down into his lap, the harsh noise of the SR-72's return yanked them back to reality, and Ames pulled away from Rooster roughly. The two stared at each other in the darkness before she abruptly stood, but Rooster reached out, grabbing her hand before she could flee. And he knew she'd run. He could feel it. He could feel her need to escape, so he stood up, still gripping her.

"Don't run," he said softly into the night.

Ames' body stilled as he drew closer, the fire he had started inside of her flaring up and lapping at the edges of her body's consciousness in response to him. Her eyes fell shut momentarily, breathing him in, and Rooster took the opportunity to press his lips to her cheek in a soft, slow press of adoration.

"This shouldn't have happened," was all she said before she pulled her body away from his and disappeared into the night.

Rooster sighed heavily, eyes closing as he remembered the taste of her lips and the curve of her shoulders under his hands.

"Yeah, I'm not given up that easily."

The SR-72 was an incredible ride, but Rooster suspected it wasn't meant for him. He had enjoyed getting behind the stick, but he was missing his F-18, truth be told. Moreover, he doubted he'd be chosen for the intel-gathering part of the mission so long as Maverick was in charge. Not that he and Maverick were at odds, but he knew his father's old friend could still be protective of him, regardless of the facts.

Sighing heavily, Rooster rubbed the back of his head in response to the headache starting to form as he got out of his flight gear. Stripping down to his flight suit, his mind wandered to Ames. She had acted the same as she always had towards him during training runs that day.

Cold, sarcastic, and distant.

He hadn't expected anything to change. Slamming the door shut, Rooster paused in front of the mirror in the locker room. Brushing fingers through his hair, he cupped the back of his head as the headache pounded at the base of his skull.

"This shouldn't have happened," she said.

"She was right. It shouldn't have happened," Rooster mumbled to his reflection.

Rooster knew he had more control than that, but he had been in a good mood. The night had been cool and had felt great on his hot skin, and the day had gone well...any excuse he could think of would and could have poured out of him if asked why he did what he did. In truth, he kissed her because he was attracted to her. Both physically and mentally... and because he had really wanted to. So much to the point that he realized he had been holding back since that night at her apartment building. When the heat from her touch and the taste of her lip snapped pleasure up his spine and back down to his groin, he had wanted to moan in a sweet release of what might have come but was cut short.

Sighing heavily, he straightened and brushed his fingers down his mustache.

"Back at it," he said, stepping back from the mirror before disappearing out the door.

"What the fuck was that about?" Hangman said aloud to an empty locker room.

**************************************

A/N: I’m sorry this took so fucking long. I just needed a break...well...I got sucked back into kdrama, but now I’m back...hopefully. 0__o Thanks for reading!! XD

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #Rooster x OC #Rooster x reader #reader x rooster #oc #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x OC #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #Reader x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #OC x Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #OC x Bradley Bradshaw #Reader x Bradley Bradshaw #mywriting

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 9 months

Note

Hey its me again lol and I just come up with more stuff in my mind about your fic when you read my feedback which Im glad that you appreciated it!

1. I was so glad that you made Y/N to actually interact with almost everyone outside from the main characters (Arthur, Abigail, Dutch, Hosea, and John) and give them depth to each other! Srs whenever I read a fic on character x reader, especially rdr2 fics they always ignore the side characters that is also important which you don't have to make every side character important or have a conversation with the reader but at least have 5 or 6 characters outside to interact with unless they are aloof that has social anxiety. I was a bit dissapointed with how little we get to interact with John, which I can't blame if he wants to be emo all day but I felt like he should be more supportive to Y/N but is the type to be realistic while Hosea could give Y/N some hope but lead to be naive.

2. Now I was actually shocked that things went by fast with just 24 chapters we are in middle of chapter 4 compare to every rdr2 that I imagine we would already be in beginning of chapter 3 lol. I don't actually mind that though, the writing style actually helped the pacing along with the longer chapters. I just felt that some things were left missing that could have a potential for Y/Ns character and other relationship. I don't want you to do every event though, that be exhausting and annoying for both you and readers to read through. In other words, the pacing can sometimes be fast on how we can go from being ok in this area to whoops we need to go.

3. I think having a plot B could create more tension and be more engaging to read. Not necessarily important though, but it be cool that Y/N would struggle with wanting to bring back the way Arthur and her had in the past and on the other hand Y/N would struggle with herself and others for sometimes feeling not doing good enough for the gang despite how HARD she works.

Also I highly recommend to check out these website and writers that give you off good writing tips if you haven't

- Tyler Mowerry https://youtube.com/@TylerMowery: is mainly focusing on movies and series but you could also do this in fanfiction and novels as he gives super good and simple writing advice.

- The pottery https://theplottery.tumblr.com/?source=share: Focus on Novel and gives good advice on how to deal with writing block, gives ideas and inspo for you to write every month and more than you think!

- Hello future me https://youtube.com/@HelloFutureMe - Goes in depth about worldbuilding, character study (mostly atla) but has good how to show not tell, mental issues, creating this certain character etc

- Localscriptman https://youtube.com/@localscriptman - really underrated guy that gives off short yet simple and good writing advice that are funny and high quality too!

I do also recommend to go check out some rdr2 theories, essays, character and worldbuilding study like Strangeman, Fizhy and Real Pixels from youtube! I hope this helped and gave you something new :)) As always, looking forward more from you!

Thank you again for leaving this. I appreciate the feedback but I do have a specific way that I want to write the fic. There are a lot of things I’m going to change and due to the nature of the fic itself some things won’t.

Please don’t send me any more critiques since I didn’t specifically ask for it. I love hearing thoughts about the stuff that I write and the points you have brought up are all things that I’ve known about and were planning on changing so while hearing them from an outside perspective is helpful for me right now it only stresses me out.

Thank you anon I hope you understand and have a nice day ❤️❤️

#rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #anon

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gurlwithluvx3 · 2 years

Text

never alone (3) | OT7

Pairing: friendships w/ OT7 and pregnant!reader (non-idol!AU)

Genre: angst, oc finding herself

Warnings: office gossip, feeling of loneliness, talks of pregnancy, navigating an unexpected pregnancy

Word count: ~1.9K

Author's Note: i started this fanfic when i thought i was pregnant (very important for y'all to practice safe sex, srs) and i know that my ex would be a dead-beat, toxic man who wouldn't step up and just added the boys because i know that they would support me x3

Masterpost | (2) (3) (4)

Masterlist

—

You’re a nervous wreck. The meeting is nowhere near finished but here you are tearing up the last corner of your notes.

You’ve heard the rumors that are being spread around the office, because you have Jin as your work bestie, who seems to know all the tea. He knows there’s nothing going on between you and your boss, but he doesn’t know that you’re pregnant.

Although, you are starting to show more at 13 weeks. You’ve tried to wear oversized sweaters and jackets all this time and for the most part it keeps your belly hidden.

But sometimes as you quickly glance in the mirror, your baby bump is more noticeable and it makes you happy. You’ve made it to the 2nd trimester even though you felt nauseous the whole first trimester.

But today you don’t feel as nauseous. You were even able to smell the flowers that Yoongi gave you without having the need to throw up. And Yoongi only gave you flowers because your pregnancy hormones had you crying for not receiving flowers, though there was no real reason to receive them in the first place.

You spend the next half hour practicing quiet breathing exercises during the meeting, which was good for you since your doctor recommended it. And without paying much attention, you realized all of the people are staring at you now.

“Miss Y/N would like to share something with the team” your boss says as he urges you to stand before he takes a seat himself. You take a deep breath before speaking. You look at Jimin, who’s the gossip of the office and smile.

This isn’t unusual for your company. When there’s an announcement to make within your team, whether a birthday, engagement, or any reason to celebrate, you’re more than welcome to share it amongst the team. And now the spotlight is on you.

“I have heard some interesting rumors circulating our office and I just wanted to share this with you all before this meeting ends” you begin, looking to your boss for approval. And he nods for you to continue.

“I’m in my 2nd trimester” you begin to explain, unzipping your jacket to show off your bump. “I had a really rough first 13 weeks, but I promise to be on top of my game for the next 20 weeks or so” you say, rubbing your belly while showing off a genuine but nervous smile.

You get a lot of surprised looks but you eventually get a lot of hugs, especially from Jin and your CFO who is also your mentor. She has been like your 2nd mom since you’ve joined the company.

“Wow, you’ve hid this for 13 weeks? I would’ve shown after the first month” one of your coworkers jokes around and soon enough everyone is asking you a series of questions regarding your pregnancy.

You look to your boss before continuing and answer a couple of questions before Jimin obnoxiously asks, “So who's the baby daddy?” And suddenly the room fell quiet.

He didn’t ask to be malicious. But he also knew you were single as single can be. And you’re sure it was a question everyone else had in mind too. You look to Jin for answers, as if he would know. But before you could answer, your boss stands up and clears his throat.

“Okay team, we’ll call it a day. Please send your reports to me by the end of the week. Thank you” he says as he fixes his tie that didn’t need fixing. He looks at you and you give a small bow, thanking him for saving you.

You’re one of the last ones to leave the meeting room, taking your time as some of your coworkers congratulate you before leaving. Jin and Jimin stay behind and wait.

“I’m so sorry Y/N” Jimin says as he shoots you a guilty stare. “I didn’t mean to put you on blast. I don’t know where my filter is at times” he says as Jin punches him to get him to stop talking.

“It’s okay Jimin” you say, unbothered by it all “.. It’s my ex’s baby”. You know he’s going to end up telling the rest of the team, but in a sense it’s better for them to hear it from him than from you. You couldn’t bear to see everyone’s reaction.

“Wow. 13 weeks though Y/N? How do you feel?” Jin asks as you all walk out of the meeting room and head out the building. You tell them that even though it’s an unfortunate situation, you’re just thankful that you and your baby are healthy.

“You take the subway to work though, right? Do you need a ride or something?” Jin suddenly asks. You shake your head and smile.

“No thank you. My friend’s gonna give me a ride” you say politely. They both give you big hugs before disappearing into the company’s parking garage and you slowly make your way to the coffee shop which is a block away.

“Yoongs, please tell me you have plain bread and ketchup” you say as soon as you see that the store is empty. He looks up to you and gives you a disgusted look.

“That is the weirdest combo I have ever heard Y/N” he says as he looks at you, while you sport the most innocent smile you can offer.

“I’ve been thinking about it the whole way over and it just sounds so good” you say. He offers you bread but no ketchup.

“I can ask Jungkook if he has ketchup,” he says, heading towards the door. Jungkook is the business owner next door and one of Yoongi’s closest friends. They both graduated in business and have been in an unspoken friendly competition since.

You give him a thumbs up as he heads out the door while you look at the bread. You’re so excited to eat, that when you hear the door open again, you jump and yell out of excitement.

“Oh shit!” Is all you hear from a voice that is not Yoongi’s. You look at the man who’s ducked down for a quick second as he looks at you.

“Y/N?!” He says in shock and looks straight to your belly that’s exposed since you took off your jacket.

“Namjoon?!” You say at the same time, watching his stance (but not realizing how he’s staring at your belly), as you suddenly giggled. “What’s wrong?”

It takes a second for him to respond as he suddenly becomes aware of why you were the way you were when you first met. And it takes another second because your scream scared him half to death.

“Your scream scared me,” he says after catching his breath. “I was expecting Yoongi and silence,” he says nervously as he chuckles. He looks down to your bump again, but this time you caught him staring.

“Oh yeah, he’s actually getting ketchup for my bread. I’d offer you some, but me and baby are so..” you stop yourself before finishing your sentence. After telling your coworkers, you’d forgotten about informing the rest of the world.

His eyes have grown bigger, but then his smile that shows off his dimple appears on his face. You suddenly get so nervous and dizzy that you end up sitting down.

Just as you were about to explain it all to Namjoon, Yoongi barges in with packets of ketchup in a plastic bag, with Jungkook in tow.

“Oh hey Joonie!” Yoongi and Jungkook say at the same time. But they quickly forget about him as they rush to where you’re seated.

“I explained your craving to Jungkook and he’s never heard of something so insane, he had to witness it himself” Yoongi explains as he shows off his gummy smile. “I hope you don’t mind that you have an audience” he hands you a couple packets of ketchup and you quickly add it to the bread on the plate.

You indulge yourself to your cravings and for a moment you forget about the 3 men in front of you until you hear the click of a camera.

“Yoongs!” You yell as you try to pry his phone from his hand but he’s quicker than you. He chuckles to himself until you join in. “You’re so mean,” you say before sticking your tongue out to him.

“I just have to document this moment” he says and you realized you had two other men staring at you. You offer your dinner to them but they all reject it.

“Hi Y/N. I’m Jungkook. Yoongi hasn’t properly introduced us” he says as he waves to you as if you were a child. But you just smile and nod as you finish the food in your mouth.

“Nice to meet you Jungkook. Thank you for letting me entertain you” you say jokingly, and all of you start laughing.

And almost immediately you start tearing up. The boys' eyes all widened and they all suddenly felt guilty for no reason.

Namjoon quickly grabs you a tissue and you start to apologize.

“I’m so sorry guys. I’ve been more than emotional and I don’t even know why I’m crying at this point” you begin to explain as you now laugh at yourself. You must look like an idiot to these people.

“No, you’re totally okay!” Jungkook says. “My sister was like this too, but more rude than anything. She would be happy one moment and screaming at us for talking right after”. Namjoon and Yoongi also try to talk about their experiences with the pregnant women in their lives.

The four of you talked through the evening and didn’t even realize how late it was getting until Jungkook got a call.

“I gotta go, but it was nice chopping it up with y’all! Y/N, congratulations!” He says as he gives you a big hug. “I’ll see you around” he says, giving you a wink before he disappears into the night.

“We should get going too,” Yoongi says as he starts to close up the store. “Oh wait, why did you come by today?” He asks, staring at Namjoon.

“Oh shoot, I completely forgot!” Namjoon says as he helps you clean up. “I came to tell you that the studio loved our demo! They want to hear another sample by the end of the month!”

Entertained by this back-and-forth conversation between the two, you stuff the last piece of bread and rub your belly in contentment.

Apparently, they’ve both been working in Namjoon’s studio for the last couple of weeks. As much as Yoongi loves his coffee shop, he also wants to expand his horizon, and you’re just nodding with all the positive energy that’s radiating from the two boys.

You can’t help but smile and try to hold back tears of happiness. Curse your pregnant hormones, you think to yourself. You slowly get up to throw away your garbage when you feel someone’s hand on your back.

“You okay Y/N?” Namjoon asks from behind you. You look back and smile while nodding.

“Thank you Namjoon,” you say shyly. You’ve never been treated this way, it feels so nice to be taken care of. And not just from Namjoon, but also because of Yoongi and even Jungkook.

“You guys are the best” you say out of nowhere. The two look at you and it looks like they’re both blushing. “I really appreciate you guys” you say more loudly.

You may not be in the best situation, but at least you’re not alone.

#bts fanfic #bts angst #kim namjoon ff #min yoongi ff #kim seokjin ff #park jimin ff #pregnant reader

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spencersmagic · 3 years

Text

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :)

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x @spencerreid-mgg @eoupe @inlovewithbabygirl @galaxydefenderjulia @username2002

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marmaligne · 3 years

Note

Hello! Can I have some hc with a protective mama Reader with Naib, Helena and Bane. They are my precious baby. I haven't play this game since season 13 and I miss them so much ahhhhhhh 😭😭. Thank you, have a nice day ❤❤🌷 (sr, my English is not good)

✨ Your English is wonderful dear ✨

[Naib Subedar, Helena Adams, Gamekeeper] S/O Is Overprotective

✨ As a reminder, my works will always include gn!reader unless specified by the requester! ✨

———————————————————————

[Naib Subedar]:

* You had been at the manor for quite awhile now, and were a rather nice person, getting along with most other survivors, and even some of the hunters to boot.

* It was quite surprising actually. You’d walked in the first day with a tough-guy attitude and gruff personality, and you didn’t seem like a very approachable person.

* Then, some survivors such as Victor and Emily started worming their way into your heart. Liam [Lucky Guy] and Norton were some of the first people to offer you a seat at the dinner table, and from then on you were one of them.

* You had scars, though most could tell they were more physical than emotional, from some sidejobs you used to complete for a gang on White Sand Street—robbing people and competing in fights with rivals.

* You quickly learned that most people fought back. Rival gangs always intruded on your own territory, and you were always left on guard, defending the last remnants of your livelihood and your sanity.

* Maybe that’s why you’re so protective over your things. Never letting anyone enter your room, never letting anyone see the pain you hide. Opening up to people enough to make allies, but never enough to show secrets.

* Now Naib…. Naib helped you out a lot. It seemed he understood you, far more than others. For some reason, he was always there for you, watching your back when needed, acting like a shield at times—sometimes literally.

* You never really understood at first, how he seemed to know you so well. From what you knew, he came from halfway cross the world, from Nepal, in India—a child, a soldier, a weapon.

* You guessed his life was rather similar, and assumed he’d come to the manor for quite the same reasons but, it was hard to see through the scowl on his face.

* At some point, you began to recognize the signs, the irritation, the avoidance. You recognized the silence, and the stiffness that came from Naib when he ate and smiled and nodded at their questions. You saw the signs of a brother, somebody just as lost and broken as you were.

* Children in the bodies of adults, forced to live life too fast and too furiously. Damaged and done in, waiting for someone to save them, but too scared to cry for help.

* Unwilling to hurt others again, unwilling to change.

* You grew wary—observant—of him eventually. You joined in more matches with him as teammate, and sat next to him often at dinner. When you noticed he didn’t eat as much, you grunted in concern. When he fell asleep in odd places, you’d bring him a blanket.

* It got to the point where he found out about your help, and tried to dissuade you from wasting your time.

* You never really listened. In fact, your worries only increased. Others might not have recognized, but you saw the signs of fatigue and death written in the lines of his face. You’d seen it every day back on White Sand.

* He gave up on making you give up, tired of attempted persuasions. Eventually began returning the favours—Naib is the type to have a ‘you watch my back, I’ll watch yours’ mentality.

* Everything you’d do for him is returned in kind. It annoyed the rest of the manor to no end because the giving and receiving eventually reached limits unheard of.

* You’d throw yourself on a rocket chair to save him, and next game you’d have your own personal bodyguard tracking your every move.

* He’d never admit it, but he appreciates all you do for him, and hopes you appreciate his efforts in making your life a little better too.

* Though your protective tendencies know no bounds, he hopes you’re a little more cautious with throwing your life on the line for him like that. This is a death game after all, be more careful…. please?

* At some point, the whole manor hopes you two could just get together and kiss it out in some storage closet. If you’re dating, what’s the need to be so consistent in you’re protective tendencies? Then you’ll always be together, which means nothing can ever happen to either of you!

* To be fair, that’s what most of them thought until an incident after the confession, where Naib wouldn’t let you out of the medical ward for a week due to a few hairline fractures.

* Please Naib! Emily begs you to let her use the examination table! You’ve hogged it for 5 days and she needs it to identify the infection spreading on Aesop’s leg! Vera broke her nose! William sprinted into the gymnasium wall and shattered his kneecaps! Please leave!

* You once set fire to a couch because Naib stubbed his toe on it.

* Please stop it you two, Freddy can’t budget for anymore furniture, and we’re fresh out of chairs.

———————————————————————

[Helena Adams]:

* Oops! Oh no her glasses! Aww shucks, Norton knocked them right off her face and onto the hardwood floor. She can’t find them because she can’t see, whatever shall she do?

* [S/o]! Please, she needs your help!

* You come in running with a pair of pliers, five bottles of anti-grease spray, and a box of extra lenses and a screwdriver.

* Oh how wonderful! You fixed her glasses—again—and saved her from the task of shuffling herself on all fours looking for them! Her hero!

* Helena…. praises you to say the least. You’re her best friend, her confidante, her…. big and strong, sometimes dumb partner!

* She adores everything you do for her, and tries equally as hard to do things for you that make your life necessarily easier, though it’s harder with her condition.

* She met you around the same time as everybody else, during your first days in the manor. Really, she didn’t actually know you were there until she bumped into a voice she didn’t recognize and became surprised.

* You quickly learned about her blindness, and made it your goal to form a friendship with her based on your willingness to help her around and get closer to her—she was very kind after all.

* Your protectiveness stemmed from the inherent feeling of a need to help guide and provide for Helena, much like a spouse would… jk, unless 👀….

* At some points, you were berated by her for your incessant protections, most of which made her feel highly dependent, which she didn’t like.

* She liked the feeling of being independent of others and being recognized as an autonomous, capable being. Especially considering what she came there for, it was a blow to her pride to be led around and pushed aside all the time.

* When she revealed these feelings to you, you had surprisingly promised her to cease in most areas of monitoring—however you still consistently check up on her—and settled into the realm of a relationship with her.

* Helena meets somebody who respects her opinions + acknowledges her intellect + isn’t a dingy asshole? Sign her up and slap on a ring, she’s marrying this person (eventually).

* She knows that your tendencies stem from a place of need and want, and tolerates most of them. Deep down, she likes being taken care of by someone who knows she can take care of herself. She really does love you.

* When you’re actually in a relationship with each other, you make sure to watch each others backs, more so you than Helena (because she can’t ‘watch’ per say), but you get the point.

* There was once an incident in a duo’s match where Helena became stranded on the Lakeside Fishing map. The terrain is rough, with piles of fish everywhere, randomly placed boxes and walls, and the barrels are bad enough when they don’t form a blockade.

* Her navigational skills, as good as they are with all her previous experience and staff, couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to move her way around a mess of box paths, pallets, and fishing stands.

* Most other survivors were occupied or dead—it had been a hard match against Jack the Ripper and Guard 26—and she was barred from reaching any form of help.

* So she screamed your name as loud as she possibly could across the map, and ended up attracting the attention of BonBon instead. During those moments where she could hear his clanks and heavy metalloid footsteps stalking towards her, the tick of a time bomb in hand, she heard a screech in the distance.

* A fierce battlecry—you came raging from around a windmill, propelled by William’s football and packing heat with a flare gun. BonBon, now stunned twice, stood there in astonishment, before chasing after you, who had grabbed Helena in your arms, running off at full speed.

* Your stamina bar, indicated by a small tab on your character, was running low, and you wouldn’t be able to run at full speed for another minute or two, having used your ability to buy time. Stopping near a closet, you lean down to place Helena on her feet, telling her to hide.

* Her blood trail was invisible from not actually having run anywhere, and she did as you said, making you promise to come get her when it was safe.

* You gave her a smirk and a small nod, assuring her that you would, before leaning in for a peck on the forehead as you shoved her into the locker.

* If only you could see her flushed in embarrassment.

* Leaving her to fangirl in the locker, you form a decoy in your arms—result of your max rescuer ability—and ran off once more, taking off around a corner just as Guard 26 reached your previous location, chasing after you and ‘Helena’ in hopes of landing two more kills.

———————————————————————

[Bane the Gamekeeper]:

* How does it feel to love a deerman? Good? Okay!

* Bane as you know is a little…. rough around the edges so-to-speak, and he has a lot of edges.

* Once you get around all the hooks, chains, and bear traps, and beneath that creepy-looking deer head of his, he really is such a sweet guy!

* At least you think so. In reality, he still acts like a complete dick to everybody else, and only shows his soft side around you, but that’s because he knows he can trust you with his lands, animals, and secrets! All those others out there only wish to hurt what he—you—have, and he’ll make them pay for it.

* Honestly, in order for him to have fallen for you so hard to have let his guard down around you, you probably would have had to be at your most vulnerable point in life, or a hunter yourself. Like a scared prey animal, uncertain of its future, waiting for something to happen, and somebody to help, or a huge predator, ready to strike out at any moment.

* Once you worm your way into his cold dead heart, there’s no way out for you. He’ll keep you close, as he doesn’t want you to be poached away like his precious animal friends from the past. He knows how cruel humanity can be sometimes.

* When you come to find out about his less-than-kind history, it’s all you can do to pity him. Your sympathy knows no bounds, and you become clingier, though he quite honestly likes it.

* You don’t want what happened to him to occur again, and with all these other traitors and murderers in the manor, you’re afraid of what the others could do.

* You keep to his side a lot more, take walks with him in the garden, and enjoy tranquil picnics from time-to-time on Lakeside. Anything to keep him close to you and away from all the pain.

* Bane can obviously see what your doing, and noticing that your protectiveness doesn’t yet border on the insane, he allows you to continue in your devotions.

* It’s honestly sweet sometimes how you both adore each other so much, even if you know that one day one or both of you will have to leave. Whether it be through death, disappearance, or another means such as escape is a question of time, and one that neither of you know the answer to.

* If you’re also a hunter, than both of you know that while you two are happier now than either of you were in life, that your individual deaths and worths will eventually determine your fates—whether that be a happy afterlife, or an eternity of endless wandering.

* It’s well known that you’ll both disappear the day the game ends, your souls being put to rest as they should’ve been however long ago. Until then however, you’ll continue to hold on to and vehemently protect the relationship the two of you have, and you’ll fight until your soul vanishes from the earth for what you have to remain that way.

* Now, if you’re a survivor, this is where the relationship can be a bit difficult.

* Avidly defending the actions of your boyfriend during and after a match to the rest of your survivor buddies isn’t a very good look for you, or your reputation. It’s been many times where you’ve almost been chased out of the dining room because somebody was pissed at you for costing them the match, or being the only one spared instead of convincing Bane for a win or tie.

* As they say, if you can’t beat em’, join em’. Some survivors, such as William, Kreacher, and Freddy, have more than once suggested that if you loved a hunter so much, you should become one to be with him. Dating the undead almost crosses the line of what is humane. Aesop thinks you’re kind of cool.

* The hunters over on Bane’s side hate you more. Are convinced that you’re the sole reason that Bane goes friendly sometimes (even in matches without you in them), and that your relationship takes away from his brutal and violent persona and nature.

* Violetta and Michiko are the most tolerant of you, mainly because you gifted them silk and a hand fan for Christmas once when they wished for them in their letters.

* All-in-all, basically everyone blames you, but you keep going forward because who cares about all the nasty bi*ches in the world, am I right?

* Once, to prove the integrity and devotion of your relationship, you set Freddy’s room on fire and locked Kreacher in a closet. You looked Bane directly in the eyes and kneeling before him stated, “I have committed arson for you m’lord.”

* You couldn’t see it because of his deerish head and all, but Bane really went “Heart eyes motherf*cker.” on you in that moment.

* You love animals and set things on fire to prove your loyalty to him? Ticket for one please, he’s riding the simp train all the way to the station.

* Just, please don’t accidentally burn down the manor, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible before he disappears.

* Also don’t joke around with your life, it’s too precious, even when you tackle your own teammate or risk getting hit by Ganji’s cricket ball to save him from being stunned.

* He doesn’t want you dying before he does—has already he supposes—or disappearing without a trace.

* You promise you’ll stick with him until the day you finally leave this wretched place.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

#gaming #idv #idv blog #idv x reader #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #writing #identity 5 #identity v #identity v naib #naib x reader #naib subedar #idv helena #idv helena x reader #mindseye x reader #identity v gamekeeper #gamekeeper x reader

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cryptidsnackpack · 2 years

Text

Care to Tie Me Up Deputy Hudson?

Warnings: Language, weensy bit of smut. Joey Hudson x fem!reader.

Should I continue this? Should we do a part two? I dunno. Can you tell I’m ready for summer??

The dock swayed beneath you, kicked up gently by a passing boat’s wake. You were stretched out on your stomach, bikini top untied. You weren’t worried about tan lines, they seemed irrelevant as you were slathered in sunscreen anyway. Too afraid of wrinkles and skin cancer to douse yourself in coconut scented tanning oil like Adelaide. Adelaide lay next to you on a matching, aging, beach chair. The type of chair that was more a cot than anything else, bright pink and off-colored white plastic tubing strung between a rust flaked metal frame.

This was a summertime ritual between you and Addie. She’d whip up something frothy and fruity, and you two would spend hours by the water. Bitching about work and gossiping about the residents of Hope County. Addie would always begin these sessions by quoting one of her favorite movies, Steel Magnolias.

“You know what they say. If you don’t have anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me!”

“Staci Pratt, Nick Rye, and Pastor Jerome. You gotta fuck one, kill one, marry one. Go.” Addie’s lips pursed around a bright orange bendy straw.

“Hmm. I’m assuming this is a reality in which Nick isn’t a married man and Pastor Jerome isn’t a man of the Lord?”

“If that eases your conscious honey.”

“Okay. Kill Staci, fuck Nick, and marry Pastor Jerome.”

“Oh I don’t know. I’d like to take Deputy Pratt for a ride or two.” Addie mused. Further discussion on what would most assuredly be the firmness Staci’s ass were cut off by the sound of crunching gravel.

You perked your head up, squinting through the glare and the dark lenses of your sunglasses. It was a squad car. Had Addie conjured up Pratt just by the mere mention of his “bounce a quarter off it” ass?

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you saw a different deputy emerge from the car. Joey Hudson. She stepped out with a smooth grace. Looking tall and muscular in her uniform, and the mirrored aviators she wore added an air of mystery.

Addie gave a curious “hmm” as she hauled herself out of her beach chair. You watched as Addie and Deputy Hudson talked. There was some nodding and laughing before Addie walked into the house. You wonder if Mr. Dickhole Drubman was starting trouble again. It wouldn’t be the first time he made a bullshit call just to harass Addie.

Lost in thought you hadn’t noticed immediately that Joey was walking toward you. Your chin was propped on your hands. You cursed yourself for not wearing mirrored sunglasses. The closer Hudson got the higher the likelihood that she could see your roving eyes. A cool breeze swept through, lifting a few loose strands of Joey’s hair from her braid. The breeze also drew immediate attention to the fact both ties of your bikini were undone.

“Hello Deputy Hudson” She smiled and you had to bite your lip to stop a ridiculous grin.

“You know you can call me Joey, even when I’m in uniform.” She crouched near the head of your beach chair, and you could smell the gum she was chewing. Spearmint.

“I like calling you Deputy Hudson though.” You propped yourself on your elbows, very aware that you were giving the sweet deputy quite a show. It was no nip-slip, but your position also didn’t leave anything to imagination. It was hard to tell if she was looking, but you didn’t miss the muscle jump in her neck and jaw as she clenched.

“What’s all that about?” You nod toward the house.

“Eh. Hurk Sr. made a tip about Addie growing some pot plants in her house. So I told Addie to make sure they couldn’t be seen from any windows.”

You snorted.

The deputy shrugged. “She says their medicinal.”

In the sweltering summer heat, a bead of sweat had already formed at the base of Joey’s hairline and began to travel down the thick column of her throat. You watched its descent shamelessly.

“What are you doing later?” Joey’s voice was low as she lifted her aviators off her face and tucked them into the breast pocket of her uniform. This was it. You could play it safe or you could enact the plan that had come to you in a moment of opportunity-born brilliance as soon as she stepped from the squad car.

“Care to tie me up Deputy Hudson?”

“I- Well. I thought maybe dinner first, but if you-”

“My bikini top Deputy Hudson. Can you tie it for me?” Her dark eyebrows nearly ascended into her hairline. She coughed around her chewing gum, which you were pretty sure she had almost swallowed.

“Sure thing.”

“You can pick me up at 7? My place?” You couldn’t see Joey’s smile, but you could hear it.

“I’ll pick you up at 7.” He fingertips lightly grazed your sides as she pulled the elastic strings into a knot. Then with a delicious amount of pressure, she placed her thumbs on either side of your spine gliding them up your shoulder blades. You fought back a moan as her clever and calloused fingertips soothed the tightness of your shoulder muscles. Once she had loosened them to her liking she spanned her fingertips around you throat. This time you did moan. Pride be damned.

With light pressure to your throat as leverage, she used her thumbs to make tiny circles at the base of your skull. Your toes curled as knots you had been unaware of began to loosen and melt.

The slam of a screen door shattered the moment. Quickly and efficiently Joey knotted the ties at your neck.

She pressed her lips to the shell of your ear.

“I’ll make sure to finish that massage later.” You gave a half-hearted uh-huh in response. How the hell could she wind you up so quickly?

You watched as Joey walked, no strutted, back to Addie.

As her squad car pulled away Addie plopped back into her chair.

“Well hell. If I’d known there was a massage parlor on my dock, I would have advertised better.”

“I am going to marry that woman.” You sighed dreamily and checked your phone for the time.

“Well, I hope so honey.” Addie took another long sip of her drink. “We’ve all got a bet going down at the Spread Eagle and with these new developments I’m looking at first place.”

#far cry 5 #joey hudson x reader #joey hudson

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

Text

a lil bit of scarlet ribbons art..

im sorry if this is a bother !!! please enjoy some trish and the prima-ballerina of passione fanart :o)

#aaaaAAAAA HOW ADORABLE IS THIS...#beyond precious...#the past day has really been something for me so #saying this scarlet ribbons art its such a highlight i cannot thank you enough omg #i love your take on SR reader <3333 #very very cute with thise big ol eyes and wavy hair <333 #AND MISS SR HERSELF ....#looking so happy and fashionable next to her stand user #i always imagine their relationship as being somewhat sisterly and this depicts that so well omg #trish scaring people off from bothering her when spending time with SR reader too #Perfect and accurate #that's the best edition of vogue she could have #AAA this is just. such a delight #that's the best word i can use to describe it #really lifted up my spirits <333 #thank you thank you <333 #scarlet ribbons #fanart #submission #bittersweetapplesauce

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obligatorilypretentious · 3 years

Text

queer classic book recs!!

Image description under the cut! Please tell me if I did something wrong and I will gladly change it!

The other recs will be in the reblog!

[Each slide excluding the title screen includes 3 photos relating to the book, largely alternative covers of each in a small grid format.]

Slide One: In the center is a box with interior text reading "13 lgbtq classics and 1 “modern” classic. Recs in the comments welcome!" The top left corner includes an image of a calligraphy quill. Underneath this is text that reads "Disclaimer! The beginning of this list is.. Very White, but don't worry it gets more diverse as the books get more recent!!" In the top right corner is a text box reading "Look up trigger warnings or I’ll steal your gender! … or give it back!!" under this is a picture of an open book displayed in the foreground and another stack of books in the background.

Slide Two: Carmilla by J. Sheridan Le Fanu.

1872

Lesbian/wlw but written by a man

vampires!

“Following a near-fatal carriage collision, the beautiful young Carmilla is taken in by the narrator Laura and her father.”

While this book plays into the stereotype of the “monteress, seductive lesbian,” it is one of the oldest and most famous classical texts depicting a lesbian relationship. Toxic AF.

Slide Three: The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

1890

not explicitly queer (subtext)

but gay (mlm) tho

“Enthralled by his own exquisite portrait, Dorian Gray exchanges his soul for eternal youth and beauty. Influenced by his friend Lord Henry Wotton, he is drawn into a corrupt double life, indulging his desires in secret while remaining a gentleman in the eyes of polite society. Only his portrait bears the traces of his decadence.”

This book contains Anti-semitism, Racism, Sexism and is honestly a product of its time. Oscar Wilde is certainly a character.

Slide Four: Orlando by Virginia Woolf

1928

sapphic/gender exploration

“The novel opens as Orlando, a young nobleman in Elizabeth's England, awaits a visit from the Queen and traces his experience with first love as England under James I lies locked in the embrace of the Great Frost.”

Main Character is racist and anti-Semitic. While her writing is incredibly important and impactful as a queer figure, she will always be white before she is queer.

Slide Five: The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall

1928

lesbian/wlw

originally banned

“Stephen is an ideal child of aristocratic parents—a fencer, a horse rider, and a keen scholar. Stephen grows to be a war hero, a bestselling writer, and a loyal, protective lover. But Stephen is a woman, and her lovers are women. As her ambitions drive her, and society confines her, Stephen is forced into desperate actions.”

This book contains racism, use of the N-word, sexism, homophobia & lots of outdated ideas in general.

Slide Six: Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin

1956

gay/mlm

“In a 1950s Paris swarming with expatriates and characterized by dangerous liaisons and hidden violence, an American finds himself unable to repress his impulses, despite his determination to live the conventional life he envisions for himself. After meeting and proposing to a young woman, he falls into a lengthy affair with an Italian bartender and is confounded and tortured by his sexual identity as he oscillates between the two.”

OMG! A classic on this list in which I can't find any evidence of racism or antisemitism! /srs. Imagine that- it's almost like POC classical authors are important to teach about! /hj

Slide Seven: Maurice by E.M. Forster

1971

gay/mlm

fluffy, but homophobia exists in the story as well.

“Maurice is heartbroken over unrequited love, which opened his heart and mind to his own sexual identity. In order to be true to himself, he goes against the grain of society’s often unspoken rules of class, wealth, and politics.”

This book contains the use of the g slur. Please tell me if I missed something!

Slide Eight: HERmione by H.D.

1981

queer/sapphic woman author

poetry

so mf sad bro I mean look at that blurb

“An interior self-portrait of the poet H.D. (1886-1961) is what can best be described as a 'find', a posthumous treasure. ‘I am Hermione Gart, a failure' -she cried in her dementia, 'I am Her, Her, Her.”

To my knowledge, this book isn't problematic- please tell me if it is though!!

Slide Nine: Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde

1982

lesbian/wlw

A staple of lesbian lit from before the peak of an activist’s career. Great read.

“From the author's vivid childhood memories in Harlem to her coming of age in the late 1950s, the nature of Audre Lorde's work is cyclical. It especially relates the linkage of women who have shaped her.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Ten: The Color Purple by Alice Walker

1982

features queer women

has a movie adaptation!

“Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance, and silence. Through a series of letters spanning twenty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery, and Sofia and their experience.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Eleven: Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson

1985

lesbian/wlw

“This is the story of Jeanette, adopted and brought up by her mother as one of God's elect. Zealous and passionate, she seems destined for life as a missionary, but then she falls for one of her converts. At sixteen, Jeanette decides to leave the church, her home, and her family, for the young woman she loves. Innovative, punchy, and tender.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic- but warning, there are quite heavy themes!

Slide Twelve: Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel

1986

lesbian/wlw

a classic comedy comic + a really good insight & look into lesbian culture

“Grin, giggle, and guffaw your way through this celebrated cartoonist's graphic commentary of contemporary lesbian life.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic*

*contains d-slur used by lesbians in a non-offensive way

Slide Thirteen: Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg

1993

lesbian/gender identity around lesbianism

“Woman or man? This internationally acclaimed novel looks at the world through the eyes of Jess Goldberg, a masculine girl growing up in the "Ozzie and Harriet" McCarthy era and coming out as a young butch lesbian in the pre-Stonewall gay drag bars of a blue-collar town. Stone Butch Blues traces a propulsive journey, powerfully evoking history and politics while portraying an extraordinary protagonist full of longing, vulnerability, and working-class grit.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Fourteen: Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters

1998

lesbian/wlw

historical romance

“Nan King, an oyster girl, is captivated by the music hall phenomenon Kitty Butler, a male impersonator extraordinaire treading the boards in Canterbury. Through a friend at the box office, Nan manages to visit all her shows and finally meet her heroine. Soon after, she becomes Kitty's dresser, and the two head for the bright lights of Leicester Square where they begin a glittering career as music-hall stars in an all-singing and dancing double act. At the same time, behind closed doors, they admit their attraction to each other and their affair begins.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

Slide Fifteen: Under the Udala Trees By Chinelo Okparanta

2015

lesbian/wlw

modern classic imo, look into the coexistence of native Nigerian culture & queerness

“Ijeoma comes of age as her nation does; born before independence, she is eleven when civil war breaks out in the young republic of Nigeria. Sent away to safety, she meets another displaced child, and they, star-crossed, fall in love. They are from different ethnic communities. They are also both girls. When their love is discovered, Ijeoma learns that she will have to hide this part of herself. But there is a cost to living inside a lie.”

Once again to my knowledge, this book isn't problematic

#queer books #lgbtq books #classic books #classic literature #lgbt books #book recommendation #classics #books #literature #poetry #lgbtq #queer #diverse books #diverse reads

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dwellordream · 3 years

Text

“In theory, Victorians concerned with troublesome issues on the margins of respectable fiction for girls could deal with them within the family reading circle. Reading aloud was perhaps the most common domestic entertainment within the Victorian family, used as reward, improvement, or therapy for life’s challenges. The sisters taking turns reading to accompany their needlework, the matron at the sickbed, the daughter reading to her father at the end of a business day—there were myriad arenas in which families used reading to ease, amuse, and instruct.

At its most basic, reading aloud enabled the sharing of resources (a book, or a fresh installment of a periodical) among many. But beyond that, it was a profoundly social way of responding to the lessons of history, current fiction, or poetry. The critic Andrew Blake suggests that the novel, in particular, was ‘‘a most important point of contact between the public and the private’’ because ‘‘it gave people a chance to discuss domestic ideology in public without touching on domestic secrets.’’ The semipublic sphere that was the family circle provided an important venue for the discussion of reading. Within this context, instruction in morality could be accomplished informally, gently, impersonally, with reference to fictional characters rather than through direct criticism and rebuttal.

The convention of the family reading circle generally restricted polite novels from treating illicit sexuality or immoral characters, but if any lapses occurred, the family circle could deal with them most effectively. Thus Elizabeth Gaskell said of her own novel Ruth, which features an orphan who has been seduced by an aristocrat: ‘‘Of course it is a prohibited book in this, as in many other households.’’ The one circumstance that would change its unsuitability for young people, she opined, was if it was ‘‘read with someone older,’’ perhaps with an older female relative within a family reading group.

The kind of family conversation which could improve all who participated was explained by Sarah Browne in a private diary in 1859. ‘‘Albert brings [Harriet Beecher Stowe’s] the Minister’s Wooing. We sit quietly and hear how James is brought back to the living, we calmly rejoice with Mary, plan and maneuver with Miss Pressy, call Parson Hopkins in very truth a Christian and wind up the evening by wishing to see Mrs. Stowe, knowing how she would seem and if she would talk at all, like other women.’’

Albert Browne Sr. was generally the reader in the Browne family, sometimes of ‘‘superior articles in the Atlantic Monthly.’’ In these moments of quiet, Sarah Browne most idealized her shared family life, ‘‘sitting as we do in our little western chamber, Father, Alice and I storing in the rich thoughts of others as a life element of our own.’’Reading aloud enabled a submersion of family tensions in a focus outward on the problems of others.

The idealization of the shared reading experience suggested stylized familial communion to daughters as well as parents. During the final days of the Civil War, as she anticipated her own marriage, Helen Hart thought to memorialize the evenings reading aloud together. ‘‘I think I never enjoyed evenings more in my life. First Bertie reads, then Hady, and then Mother and I; from History, Shakespeare, the Atlantic, and other miscellany. Such peaceful, happy winter evenings at home! Something for us to look back upon in after years when we are scattered. I have treasured up each one as it passed, as a sweet and sacred memory.’’ The pleasure came from the contrast between ‘‘our quiet harbor’’ and ‘‘the world with its commotions, its struggles.’’

Never did home seem so secure and safe as when implicitly contrasted with the adventures and misfortunes of fictional characters, warring nations, or past princes. Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s biographer noted that Charlotte and her destitute and emotionally distant mother were at their best when reading aloud to each other, their fraught intimacy dissolved in their shared focus on the lives and feelings of others. Those moments of community might even be resurrected by rereading books so experienced. (‘‘It seems as if we were gathered around the nursery fire again. I can almost hear Aunt Mary’s voice.’’) The pleasures of reading aloud were those of reading mediated—reading mediated by the fiction of shared purpose.

Reading aloud did not have a single simple meaning, however, nor did it model only one kind of power relationship. The Browne family’s shared reading was patriarchal, with father reading and other family members (according to the hardly impartial mother) celebrating familial harmony. Alice Stone Blackwell, in her irreverent and spritely diary, offered another example of paternal reading aloud, lightly satirizing her father, the noted reformer and women’s rights advocate Henry Blackwell:

‘‘Papa sat with his feet on the top of the stove, saturated with laziness, and rated me for enjoying stories [fiction], and formed plans to give me a taste for instructive literature, and ended by making me bring Plutarch’s Lives, and beginning to read them aloud.’’ This depiction of a well-respected father indulging in playful tyranny of his only child suggests a quite different emotional shading—if a similar actual structure—to the idealized portraits of patriarchal reading circles.

Daughters also read on their own, though, and given the risks of immoral reading and the gains from uplifting reading, good parents attempted to mon- itor what they read. The goal in choosing reading, as in all the lessons of character, was to instruct gently and surely so as to encourage daughters to make familial lessons their own. Advice to parents ranged from the relatively cut and dried—‘‘Parents should choose the books that their children read until the age of 15’’—to the more subtle: ‘‘Wise parents put so many good books in the way of their children that the taste for them is formed unconsciously, and there is never any feeling of restraint.’’ (The latter piece of advice, made in 1901, was clearly advice for the book-wealthy.)

Ellen Emerson’s correspondence with her mother while away at boarding school suggested the appropriate supervisory relationship of parents over girls’ reading. Explaining that she was reading Elizabeth Gaskell’s Cranford, which she found ‘‘a very funny book,’’ she went on, ‘‘I never read any that I am not sure you would be willing to have me,’’ and recorded her assumption that Scott, Gaskell, and several others were ‘‘not forbidden.’’ She went on to query, ‘‘May I read [Margaret Oliphant’s] ‘Head of the Family’?’’ Middle-class or elite parents who participated in genteel Victorian culture assumed an important role in controlling the reading of their daughters—its quantity, its contents, and its circumstances.

In the elite midwestern Hamilton family, a family with a strong and eclectic reading tradition, novels were doled out prudently like candies during vacations from school, so as not to interfere with schoolwork. When her daughter was fifteen, Phoebe Hamilton gave her ‘‘Ivanhoe for my holiday reading, she always gives me one of Scott every vacation.’’ The next year her mother was more liberal, providing Scott’s Quentin Durward for a Christmas book and giving permission for the reading of Dickens’s Little Dorrit and Jemima Tautphoeus’s The Initials. As January arrived, Agnes lamented, ‘‘I have finished the latter but I am afraid as I go back to school next Monday I shall have to let Little Dorrit wait till summer.’’

There was a hierarchy within Hamilton family reading, and despite her voraciousness, Agnes felt that her tastes fell short of her family’s preferences. ‘‘Oh! why haven’t I the love of learning of the family?’’ She indicated what was expected in her next breath: ‘‘Knight’s England vol. III has been read all but two chapters since last fall and during two months I have read but four books of the Odyssey.’’ She forced herself to be realistic. ‘‘During this next week [probably a school vacation] I want [to] finish half a dozen or more books which I have begun but I dare say the novels are the only ones that will be looked much in.’’

Like the Hamilton reading regimen, other family routines, too, involved matters of both quality and quantity. There were appropriate ages for the reading of different books. At fifteen, Margaret Tileston wanted to read George Macdonald’s Alec Forbes of Howglen, an homage to the dignity of Scots country life. The author was certainly approved, but Margaret’s mother didn’t want her to read the book ‘‘yet.’’

At eighteen, Margaret was still reading under adult scrutiny. Sick at home she was ‘‘allowed’’ to read Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre, considered excessively charged for young girls, and polished off 340 pages on the first day. Reading was one way of being inducted into family ideology; when Margaret reread Pilgrim’s Progress in 1883, she was conscious that she was reading a book that had been important to her mother when she was young.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Reading and the Development of Taste.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#victorian #history #american #how young ladies became girls #jane h. hunter

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years

Text

|7 DEEP| M| MASTERLIST|

SMUT/ANGST/FLUFF/POLY AU

AU SUMMARY- Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! This is a candid in-depth look at the rollercoaster ride that is your life!

ALSO LOWKEY A RAGS TO RICHES STORY.....

Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, Tae, Hoseok, and Jimin, all already work with the OC and Joon, Kookie comes in later one as a new hire...and the possible final piece…

DISCLAIMER: Obv this is a poly so the boys are Bi..but outside of kissing and dirty talk I have not YET ventured into physical MXM….

NOTE- As long as this keeps getting support the initial plan is 7 one-shots, one for each boys. Everyone installment will have smut as well as a overall storyline, one that not only ties into your job, but also the OC’s (AKA YOU) special dynamic with each individual member. The last one-shot (7th) will be the first and maybe only one where smut wise it’s all 7 of them, it will finally address how they all came together, and will be partially a flashback sequence. HOWEVER, there will be bits and pieces of the “Characters” lives and what not sprinkled within the “drabbles” too...so those will also be worth reading especially, as the story developes....or at least reading the summaries!

Kookie will make appearances throughout, however, he is NOT as involved off rip as the other boys…

ONE-SHOTS SO FAR :

AFTER-HOURS- NAMJOON X OC (Tae comes in at the end) -

ABOUT- Your husband and business partner find you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR-You're in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor, because Yoongi’s in over his fucking head! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employees so she overworks herself!

AKA- “MEET THE KIMS”

PRETTY PLEASE- TAEHYUNG X OC - ( Joon comes in at the end)

About- Tae fucks you on top of your receptionist's desk before you fire her…

Or- Tae’s feeling a little needy...and somewhat high-key self continuous about you possibly hiring a new production assistant...AKA...Jungkook. It seems as though Mr. Kim takes pride in being the youngest within the office! It seems as though your baby boy just needs a little..reassurance…

JIN & CHOCOLATE- JIN X OC (FT A lil Seok at the end ) -

(5K SMUT WITH A SIDE OF PLOT! NOT JIN’S INTRO CHAPTER)

About-You suck Jin off…and brownie batter may or may not be somewhat involved because why the fuck not. Oh, Hoseok comes over to drop off weed…and welll….doesn't exactly leave

Or- His assistants birthday is tomorrow and she’s insisted on him making his infamous “Dizzy Brownies” AKA…pot brownies and Jin being the perfectionist he is, scrapes the first batch. You however, think they’re fine and if he’s not gonna bake with said batter you’ll find use for some of it…..Then Hosoek stops by to bring the missing ingredient…weed and his dick…

TOUCH ME , TEASE ME- NAMJOON X OC

(5K, IN COLORATION TO THE EVENTS THAT WILL TAKE PLACE IN “GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL)

About- Namjoon eats you out the minute you walk in the door because well…that’s the kinda husband he is!

Or- Jimin text’s Namjoon to brace him for the mood you’ll more than likely be in after a day full of drama and finally firing the front desk receptionist! Which essentially red for him to make you come hard AF and then feed you….OH, and You guys invite Yoongi over to talk about the Tae and Kookie “Thing”

PRIVATE SHOW- TAE X OC (NEW)

(5k, Holiday esque one-shot however for the 1st time it does dive into the downside of being in a poly relationship that’s essentially a secret in the publics eye)

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

UP AND COMING: In no particular order!

MUTED- YOONGI X OC (SIDE JIN)- HIATUS

Note, this is more of a smut drabble though it will be around 3k...this is NOT Yoongi/Jin’s official “Introduction” if that makes sense….(SNEAK PEEK IS LINKED)

About-Yoongi goes down on you in the back seat while you’re on a business call….Jin’s driving, lowkey watching..and being a little shit the entire time…

Or- You’re on the phone with a dick of an investor and a second away from losing your shit and calling off the entire deal…however…your boys decide to “distract” you. Give you a little something to keep you at ease so you don’t blow this 6 figure account…

MAKE ME PROUD- JIMIN X OC (ALL THE MEMBERS ARE IN THIS BRIEFLY)

About- Jimin and yourself take a trip to get a sneak peek at “Filter” before it opens… and Jimin fucks you on top of the bartop…

Or- Jimin’s ready to make his first solo big boy investment….AKA...opening up his own Gay club in WeHo...and the new business venture also reopen’s old wounds about his past. Both good and bad..but at the end of the day he remembers he wouldn’t the version of himself that he’s oh so proud of...without a little someone named “Y/N”

“PARTY FAVORS”- YOONGI X OC-

About- You and Yoongi get a little one on one time while in Amsterdam, IE getting completely stoned, and attending a sex show..hell maybe even joining in on a sex show...shit just get’s wild in the Dam!

OR- You and your boys jet out to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate 16 AVN award nominations (AKA THE TONY’S/GRAMMY’S OF PORN) and while high and in a country where nobody knows who you are...(which means Yoongi and yourself are free to do as you please even in public)....Yoongi admits for the first time that sometimes he feels a type of way that HE wasn’t the one that married you considering the two of you were a thing FIRST....

“CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS” - JIN X OC (Side Namjoon)- NEW

About- Jin says he's coming over to discuss business over brunch, champagne, and a nice Jacuzzi bath…which, of course, leads to more than just talk about “Finances and portfolio expansions”

OR: Jin’s the eldest, he loves control, he needs control, hints why he’s the finical controller..always has been...even in the domestic sense. Jin’s also shit at feelings he’s used to being the shoulder to cry on not needing the shoulder..he’s not used to feeling vulnerable...so it’s not to easiest for him to admit that he misses being the one you all come home too...misses being “needed”! He’s used to being the one that has his shit together, being the glue that’s held you lot together during your worst times..so this...is completely out of his comfort zone!

“ALL EYES ON ME” - HOSEOK X OC (FT OT7)- NEW

About- Hoseok and yourself have sex in a very questionable place while at the launch party for ‘Spectrum” I.E. your newest business venture...sex toys…your man deserves a little…”Thank you” for all the work he’s put in...including planning this party!

OR- Hoseok’s in over his fuckin head, he’s the one essentially spearheading the launch of “Spectrum” which is obviously his job as the head of Marketing, tactical ETC, however, this is just..different...he’s literally the one steering the boat. He’s good at what he does he knows this, he’s fucking made for it...but...it;s still’ bringing out some old, nasty insecurities...reminding him how he's his own worst critic...a perfectionist to the fault. Reminding them of those days where he never thought he was good enough...and it would absolutely break him if he lets you lot down!

“GOT ME LOOSIN’ ALL MY COOL) -KOOK X READER | JIMIN X READER (SMUT) FT- YOONGI & TAE

About- Jimin and yourself take Jungkook shopping for a new suit to wear to the “Spectrum” launch party! OH, and Jimin fucks you in the backseat of your truck in the parking garage of the mall…..

OR: You know Kookie still in that “Broke college grad” phase only being with the company barley a month, and you don’t want him to feel self-conscious at the event! You’ve also been too busy to really check in with him to see how he’s adjusting! So, you thought something like this, in a more laxed atmosphere, would be a good solution! Oh and Jimin, honestly he’s just nosey as fuck and inched himself along, like nobody really invited him he invited his damn self! Also Jungook can’t underatand why the fuck your all so damn attractive...like...why!?

AKA-MEET JUNGKOOK JEON

SNEAK PEEK

***

THE “FINAL” ONE-SHOT, IS NOT FULLY OUTLINED YET

******

FINAL NOTE-

This series is open to request...for one-shot/ member scenarios/drabbles.

The initial 7 one-shots are done to get the dynamic and I guess you could say “Plot” set in stone...however, once that’s done and in-between I’m open to random scenarios as long as it somewhat coincides with the “Universe”

This is a story that follows normal day to day life in a sense....they just happen to live a very exciting one!

Anything from them going grocery shopping and making dinner...all the way to the OC and one of the boys fooling around on set...as long as it fits the vibe. I’m down!

*** To clarify as well...publicly ( And in the workplace) the world just knows your married to Namjoon....the whole poly situation is not something blasted on your Wiki...at least not yet....***

(Optional)

***POSTIONS’S WITHIN THE COMPANY***

(Obv things are spread out now and they have other employees but they all STILL oversee multiple jobs...It’s a habit now. For so many years they couldn’t afford the help! So, now that they can they’ve just become a little...protective of said job duties..)

Y/n Kim(26)- CEO/Founder/HR/Storyboard/Content creator/Directory/Scriptwriter/Talent scout/ALL OF THE ABOVE (Set design, DVD author, 2nd Location manager, etc)

Namjoon Kim (26)- CEO/ Founder/ Director/ Content analyst/ Lead scriptwriter/ Sr Production manger/ ALL OF THE ABOVE (IT, web design, outreach, etc)

Yoongi Min (27)- Head digital producer/ Program/site Planner/Production manager/Sound engineer/Production scheduler

Taehyung Kim (24)-Executive Assistant/ Content admin/ location manager/Wardrobe assistant/backup talent scout & health liaison

Seokjin Kim (28)- Senior Accountant/ Sales manager/ Financial controller/Logistics/Operations

Jimin Park (25)- Head talent scout/ Model Liaison/ Wardrobe/ Hair & Makeup coordinator/ Onset assistant/Health Liaison

Hoseok Jung (26)- Social media/ Streaming manager/Tactical marketer/ Advertising/event manager/PR

NOW HIRING: FOR A VIDEO EDITOR/IMAGE PROCESSOR/SOUND EDITOR/SECONDARY PHOTOGRAPHER AKA-

“PRODUCTION COORDINATOR“

....WELCOME TO ONYX!

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gurlwithluvx3 · 2 years

Text

never alone (7) | OT7

Pairing: friendships w/ OT7 and pregnant!reader (non-idol!AU)

Genre: angst, oc finding herself

Warnings: mentions of physical fight, dealing with an ex, feeling of loneliness, talks of pregnancy, navigating an unexpected pregnancy

Word count: ~1.6K

Author’s Note: i started this fanfic when i thought i was pregnant (very important for y'all to practice safe sex, srs) and i know that my ex would be a dead-beat, toxic man who wouldn’t step up and just added the boys because i know that they would support me x3

Masterpost | (6) 7 8

Masterlist

—

Hobi and Lisa offered to throw you a gender reveal as you approach your 18th week and though you were very reluctant, because you don’t want the attention, they were very insistent. They planned everything from the food to the decoration. All you had to do was provide the guest lists and their numbers.

The day before the gender reveal, you’re at Yoongi’s coffee shop with Hobi and Lisa going over the last minute details when you see Jungkook coming in.

“Y/N! My favorite pregnant person!” he says with his bunny smile. You can’t help but laugh at his innocence. He wraps his arms around you while you’re sitting.

“Hello Jungkook!” Hobi and Lisa say simultaneously as they both look up from their to-do lists. Yes lists as in plural. How they’re so efficient is beyond you, but you’re so grateful to have very organized friends.

“Yah! What are you doing here?” You suddenly hear Yoongi shouting from behind the counter, wiping some coffee mugs clean. You hear Jungkook chuckle before they have their own conversation. You turn your attention back to the couple in front of you.

“Okay, so everyone has responded except one person, Taehyung?” Lisa says as if reading his name was difficult to do.

Hm, that’s weird, you think to yourself. You’ve been in contact with him since you sent your guest list to Hobi and Lisa so you know that he’s not MIA.

“I’ll contact him” you say, reaching for your phone in your very unorganized bag. It takes a minute for you to find it as it’s hidden under your pill container.

You check your phone to see 3 missed calls and a voicemail from an unsaved number. You look up to the couple in front of you, who seems to be so occupied with the party planning that you don’t even excuse yourself from the table.

You step outside the coffee shop to listen to the voicemail. And the moment that you recognize the voice, you freeze. It was your ex.

“Hey Y/N.. uhm, I heard about the baby.. uhm, (his voice sounds further away now) I don’t know what to say..” you instantly start to panic, unsure of what this message is about. “Yeah okay, uhm, if you want to meet up, give me a call back” and you hear some ruckus before he ends the phone call.

What the hell just happened? You don’t hear from your ex after all this time when he suddenly drops this on you. You didn’t need this, not when you were truly happy about your situation.

You suddenly feel overwhelmed when you grab the closest chair and take a seat. You practice some breathing exercises but it doesn’t seem to help your anxiousness this time around.

You didn’t hear the door open or footsteps approaching until you saw someone kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?” you hear someone say but your eyes are blurry and your mind is fuzzy that you’re not sure who it is. “Y/N?” he says again and you look up to find Yoongi assessing your current state.

He waits for a minute as you gather your thoughts and composure, taking deep breaths before you finally look at him.

“He knows..” you say softly, almost inaudibly, but thankfully Yoongi was kneeling right in front of you so that he heard you crystal clear. He gasps unknowingly, but tries to find the right words to say. But what would that be?

“How do you feel Y/N?” he asks as he stands up and takes a seat right next to you.

How do you feel? How would you feel if your ex reached out to you after months of not hearing back from him after dropping this pregnancy on him? You fidget with your phone finding the right words to say. You try to find the good in this moment, but you’re unsure if there is anything good.

“I’m overwhelmed, but I’ll be okay. I’ve been okay without him and I will be okay without him” you say hesitant at first, trying to find your voice.

You and Yoongi are quiet again, unsure of what to say next when he sighs before speaking.

“What do you want to do with him?” he asks quietly, almost inaudibly. He knows how talking about your ex triggers you, and for good reasons. But he also just wants to protect you as his friend.

“I don’t know..” you say looking at your phone. “I honestly don’t know”.

—

It’s been an hour since your gender reveal party started and honestly you couldn’t have asked for more. Hobi and Lisa settled for a Dumbo themed baby shower because they know it’s your favorite Disney movie.

Everything is perfect from what the eye can see, but on the inside you’re a hot mess. You asked Yoongi to keep that conversation to yourselves, at least until after the party since you don’t want to think about it or stress anyone else out.

And at times you forget, like the moment they take the blindfolds off as you reach the picnic spot at your favorite park only to find it filled with the cutest elephant decorations you’ve ever seen. And the moment you see your coworkers and friends getting along so well. Even your boss and CFO are blending well with everyone.

But then there are the moments when you do think about your ex and it makes you feel nauseous. Why is he reaching out to you now? Does he even want to do anything with you? Or is he just suddenly bored?

“Thank you for coming to celebrate Y/N” Hobi yells, gathering everyone’s attention, including your own as you’ve been caught up in your own thoughts. “Who’s ready to find out the gender of the baby?!” he asks in excitement, and the sea of people surrounding you all begin yelling.

Your heart starts racing, but in the best way possible. You look at the crowd to find the people who have been alongside you during this journey and you can’t help but tear up.

You’re so curious to know the actual gender but you look past the crowd to see someone approaching. And suddenly you freeze and Yoongi who’s right in front of you sees you tense up.

He immediately turns around, getting the rest of the group to follow him.

“I’m sorry I’m late” Taehyung says approaching the group carrying 2 huge gift bags in each hand. You can’t help but gasp once he’s closer to you.

He has a black eye that looks swollen and he’s not his usual weird, chipper self, but instead has a sheepish demeanor.

Hobi clears his throat and gathers the group's attention once again, looking for the lighter that he suddenly misplaced.

You quickly look at Taehyung who looks guilty for something, but the moment he looks at you he offers a sheepish smile as he raises his shoulders and hands you the gift bags.

Hobi and Lisa’s laugh makes you jump out of your thoughts as they take the bags from you and hand you a sparkler.

“Ready babe?” Lisa asks you, sporting the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. You take a deep breath and nod.

You hold the sparkler away and Lisa lights it up when all of a sudden all you see are blue confetti shooting off into the air.

“It’s a boy!” you hear the crowd yell and Yoongi’s “I fucking called it!”. Everyone’s celebrating and one by one they come up to congratulate you personally.

Hobi brings out a cupcake-cake from your favorite bakery and you’re all digging in, savoring each and every moment.

An hour or so later, some of your guests have left and the rest are cleaning up the area when Taehyung takes a seat in front of you.

“I’m sorry Y/N” he says out of the blue and you’re confused as to why he’s apologizing. “I reached out to him because I couldn’t just sit back and not do anything. But I realized now it’s not my place to meddle” he says very solemnly.

He explains how he traced your ex down and told him how you’re pregnant and how he should reach out to you. But when Taehyung realized how much of an asshole your ex was, it got so heated that they physically ended up fighting.

“I just want the best for you and the baby” he says, holding back tears. “I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. I’m so sorry for meddling” he says again as a couple of tears hit his white Celine shirt.

You tried to reach out for his hands, but couldn’t reach all the way since your belly was suddenly in the way.

“Tete, it’s okay. I know you did it with the best intentions” you say. You are upset, not because Taehyung reached out to your ex, but because you know nothing will come out of your ex knowing. Because if he cared even a little bit, he would’ve done more than give you a half-assed voicemail. You and Taehyung both take turns sighing.

“He knows now, so what he decides to do from here on out is his call” you begin to say, unaware of your own tears. “But at least I know one good thing that came out of this..” you say, and wait until Taehyung looks up at you.

“At least I know that I have people like you I can depend on, no matter how hard it is or how hard it gets” you say, smiling at Taehyung genuinely. He sighs and wipes away whatever tears and smiles at you.

“We’re all here for you Y/N, no matter how hard it is or how hard it gets” he says, reaching over the table to grab your hand.

#bts fanfic #bts angst #min yoongi ff #taehyung ff #hobi ff

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Text

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned (Part 16)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: graphic gore, violence, gun use, death, blood

Context: (Y/n) forms an uneasy alliance with Valentine and goes after Nico.

A/N: hopefully, there is only one more part after this, so it shouldn't be too long until the story is finished!

Masterlist

Grunting, I push myself up slightly, gritting my teeth against the pain that shoots through my leg as I work at pulling myself over the ground, completely ignoring the Hunter standing a little way away. My hands scrabble in the dirt, the skin grazing away from the weight that is put on them, my body dragging slowly over the hard ground as I fix my eyes on my targets, allowing small sounds of exertion to escape me. Across from me, the vampires who are currently conscious look up at me, their eyes narrowing at the sight of my approach, the two moving to stand protectively in front of their fallen comrades. I try to push down the burst of grief inside me at this, aware now that I've most likely lost their friendship completely, though I still need one last favour from them.

"Stay away from us, Hunter. You and your filthy mutt, too." David spits at me, eyes flashing yellow in warning.

"I need to borrow one of your bikes!" I force out, ignoring the venomous tone from my former friend.

"You think we're gonna let you use anything of ours?" Marko scoffs, the blonde laughing bitterly as he stares down at me, "Dream on."

Gasping in sudden pain, I stop where I am and put a hand to my leg, trying to staunch the flow of blood that has pushed past the bandage, aware now that I don't have all that long left to do what needs to be done.

"Please! I've got to go after him! I've got to stop him! He'll kill anyone he sees!" I plead with them, trying to convey the gravity of the situation across to them.

They only roll their eyes.

"Why should we care?" David sneers, looking down at me critically, "Maybe you should've kept it on a tighter leash."

The two vampires bend to pick up their fallen friends, turning their backs on me even as I call out to them, my voice breaking in desperation.

"Come on, guys! I need your help one last time! Please! I'm begging you for this!" I can feel my throat going raw as my despair starts to show through, fully aware of the fact that Nico is most likely on the outskirts of town already.

I try one last tactic, though I am doubtful of whether or not it will work.

"Think about how this is going affect you! How it's going to change how easy it is to find food!"

My eyes widen in relief as they hesitate suddenly, stopping in their tracks.

"What do you mean?" Marko questions after a moment of tense silence.

"What do you think is going to happen if people start to find out about the supernatural things of the world? Especially in this town, you know what they're like! If they see a wolf that big running around and killing people in the streets, how do you think they're going to react? There'll be more SRS down here than flies! You'll never be able to hunt in peace again!"

My words ring out in the quiet that has settled, the truth in them clear as day, my pleading tone only adding to the urgency that is building inside me. For a moment, nothing happens. Neither of them move, the two seemingly considering what should be done in response to this, the bodies in their arms perfect examples of why this will be a problem to them. In my ears, I can hear my heartbeat pounding, blood roaring through me as I continue to ignore the throbbing in my leg in favour of silently pleading with my old friends.

Finally, David turns to me.

"Take my bike." He growls, awkwardly reaching into his pocket to pull out his keys, throwing them to me.

I nearly laugh in relief, scrambling to grab the keys as I thank him profusely, stumbling over my words in my hurry. He says nothing more, only turning to walk away with Marko again, not even looking back at me.

Twisting onto my back, I find Valentine staring at the pile of disembowelled bodies a little way away, her face pale as a sheet, clearly now feeling the full extent of the consequences of the previous bloodbath.

"You're gonna drive me." I order her, scowling as she turns to me in confusion.

"What makes you say that?" She responds a little quietly, her voice lacking the sweet tone from before.

"It's your duty to protect people from supernatural threat. You have to help me, or you're breaking the code." I point out, watching her carefully.

She stays silent for a moment, before rolling her eyes and coming over to me, helping me up with an arm around my shoulders.

"You're one to talk about breaking the code." She growls, dragging me to the spot I've pointed to, callously helping me locate the bikes.

"Shut up." I snap back at her, leaning against a nearby tree as she finds the correct bike and wheels it out, "Get one of their guns."

I gesture to a nearby body, expecting her to move and take one of the available assault rifles that are scattered around the bloody mess. Shooting me a disgusted look, Valentine props the bike up and grabs one, forcefully shoving it into my hands as she then helps me onto the motorcycle. As she climbs on in front of me, I sling the gun over my shoulders and gingerly hold her waist, ignoring the sharp intake of air from her. Kicking the bike into gear, we swiftly leave the cliff top.

"Where do you think it will be?" Valentine questions me as she brings the bike to a halt at the Boardwalk, looking around nervously.

"I'm not sure where he'll be." I correct her scathingly, wincing as she hauls me off of the bike and onto the pavement, ignoring the curious looks we're receiving from bypassers.

"Very helpful." She rolls her eyes critically.

Limping into the crowd, I take note of the fact that there are noticeably less people around them before, a lot of them most likely having been scared off by events of the night before. Policemen and armed guards stand at even intervals around the public attraction, clearly on the lookout for more gun-wielding intruders. Upon realising this, I curse and take the gun off from around my shoulders, holding it awkwardly between the two of us so that it remains out of sight, thanking the fact that no one has reported us yet.

Lifting my head, I listen out for any tell tale sounds that might be signifying the werewolf's approach, struggling to pick up anything over the din of noise that has settled on the Boardwalk. Frustrated, I bite my lip tightly, groaning slightly as I put a little too much weight on my injured leg, the fabric of my trousers now slick with blood, though the dark colouring of the garment thankfully hides the crimson stain from prying eyes.

We walk a little way on, coming to a halt when we notice the much higher volume of officers standing around the more popular rides towards the center of the Boardwalk itself. Exchanging a glance, we turn and head to the wall that separates the pavement from the beach, Valentine dropping me onto it unceremoniously, standing in front of me to keep the rifle hidden, her head rotating as she tries to figure out what to do.

"Are you sure it was headed here?" She eventually asks, looking down at me in resignation.

Frowning, I nod, going to reply to her, only to be cut off by a sudden cacophony of screams breaking out a little way away. Our heads snap round, eyes quickly locating the fleeing people and crowding policemen, shouts sounding over the panic, even as deafening snarls mingle with them.

Instantly, Valentine has leapt into action, running over to where I can now see the hulking wolf pounce on a poor officer, his head disappearing between the powerful jaws in seconds. The chilling scream is cut off as the head comes free, blood pouring from the decapitated body as it falls to the floor, leaving the other men and women shocked into silence, until Nico moves onto another victim. Gunshots tear into him, the police firing off their weapons at him, these actions only serving to incense him further. Baring his teeth, the werewolf throws back his head and releases a guttural howl, the sound once again quieting everyone nearby. This tension is broken by another gunshot, this one from Valentine, who has taken it upon herself to shoot the wolf as much as possible.

"No! Valentine, stop!" I scream at her, throwing myself off of the wall, trying to run over to her. My leg gives way beneath me and I fall to the floor, winding myself; I ignore this, however and push myself to again, forcing myself to my feet. Gritting my teeth, I shakily start limping over, keeping the rifle gripped tightly in my hands as I call out to the mess of people and werewolf just across from me.

By now, Nico has picked up on Valentine's familiar scent and has turned to face her, his gore-stained muzzle wrinkled as he curls back his lip to reveal the gleaming fangs that have caused so much havoc. Blazing crimson eyes fix on her, hackles raising in fury as he starts moving towards her, very slowly. A deep, throaty growl rolls off his tongue, the great beast shaking off his shaggy pelt as he steps over the bodies of the mangled policemen, ignoring the shots that are now fired at him from other officers around him, his focus on one thing and one thing only.

Valentine shoots at him again, somehow managing to miss every shot, her body starting to tremble as she fumbles with the reloading of the pistol. With a challenging snarl, Nico throws himself at the SRS leader, claws extended towards her, jaw hanging open, ears laid back against his head.

The two connect, Valentine's body falling to the floor as the werewolf crashes into her, pinning her to the floor with a single paw to her chest. She scrabbles at the heavy creature, calling out for help even as he starts to put more weight on his limb, a deep sound of triumph welling up from his chest as he lowers his face to her's, mouth wide.

Finally snapping myself out of my trance, I lift the rifle and fire off some shots, calling out to the werewolf as he straightens again. Instantly, his eyes find me, the burning red depths narrowing at the sight of me, his muscles tensing. We maintain eye contact for a moment, neither of us making a move, both of us challenging the other to back down from what will probably be a very short fight. Finally, Nico moves, the werewolf dropping his face back to Valentine, whose shoulder he takes into his mouth, biting down and using his grip to throw her to the side, turning to me as she collides harshly with a nearby building.

Swallowing, I go to fire again, only to realise that the magazine is now empty, panic sparking to life within me as I see this. Dropping the gun, I stumble backwards, backing away from the oncoming threat as he springs into a run, paws pounding the ground loudly. Moving faster, I go to turn around, my feet suddenly catching on something beneath me. With a cry of fear, I crash to the floor.

In seconds, the werewolf is standing over me, a paw on either side of my body as he lowers his face to mine, taking a deep breath and then releasing it back at me. Trying not to cough, I wince at the smell of his terrible breath, absolute terror coursing through me as his fangs draw closer to me, the bloodied saliva dropping off of them onto my abdomen as he sniffs at me, growling in triumph. Tensing, I lift my hands to push at his muzzle, Nico suddenly barking at me and lunging forwards, pulling my arms into his mouth. I fight back the screams of pain that tug at my throat as his sharp teeth pierce the skin, his strong jaw slowly crushing the bones in my forearms.

"Nico...Please…" I groan out, hoping that the person I know is still in there somewhere, though the sound I receive in return is anything but friendly.

A sudden jerk knocks the werewolf off of me, a surprised yelp escaping him as he rolls to the side, releasing my arms from his grip. Three figures step in between my prone body and the reeling werewolf, their silhouettes very familiar. Another kneels down beside me, rolling me onto my side so that he can see me properly.

"D-David?" I manage, looking up into the pale face of the vampire hovering over me.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." He reassures me, scooping me up into his arms as he lifts me effortlessly, clearly fighting off the urges he is feeling thanks to the presence of blood.

"What...what are they gonna do to him?" I ask worriedly as I look back over to the three other vampires, all of them now fully healed thanks to their natural abilities, Nico seemingly preparing to fight them off.

"They're gonna get him away from the town. He can't stay here." David informs me, glancing down at me as I feel myself fighting off the exhaustion and nausea that has set in, "You've lost too much blood. I've gotta get you to Max."

"Who...who's Max?"

"Our sire. (Y/n), you have to stay awake for me! Come on, don't close your eyes!" His urgent tone keeps me cognizant, my mind battling furiously with the haze that is threatening to set in.

It's too late, however, and I feel my eyes droop shut, the darkness taking me very quickly as I finally succumb to the pain and exhaustion.

Part Seventeen

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

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