#Would you believe I talked to him for 2.5 hours today

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Future Comfort

Summary - Part 3 in the Comfort series - You comfort Dean after his brother runs away without a word and you become closer for it.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic)

Warnings - none

Word Count: 1,540

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you again for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. Let me know if you want part 4, and remember my inbox is always open for requests or even if you just wanna chat. Until next week, enjoy! 

An hour later you’re laying on Baby’s hood in Dean’s arms looking up at the stars. You told him everything Sam said and tried to help him understand. He promised to trust Sam and not hunt down the kitsune. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier? You’re not ready to stop hunting yet? ‘Cause if you want out we can find a way.”

“Dean, I meant every word I said. I’m in this with you and Sam until the bitter end. Unless of course, you knock me up…or-”

“Do you want me to?”

“Do I want a family with you? Of course, Dean.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we can get in the backseat right now and start trying?”

“As amazing as that sounds, handsome, I-I...” You run your hand over your stomach instinctively.

“I get it. All I’m trying to say is … For you I’d do anything. I’ll get a job in my other family business; I’ll open a garage, we can get married and get a mortgage and have 2.5 kids. I want all of that with you. I never thought I would, but I do.” Dean sits up, bringing you with him before sliding off the hood. “I know you literally just said you’re not ready for a family yet, and earlier today I didn’t even believe that I could give you any kind of future but …”

“Dean?” You shake your head at him and cover your mouth with your hands as he falls down onto one knee while reaching into his back pocket. 

“I was walking around town today and I just kept thinking about you and what you said about it all being possible. And then I stumbled into a jewellery store and I couldn’t help imagining how good this,” he says pulling out a red velvet ring box, “would look on you. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” 

As he opens the box you slide off the car and onto the ground, hugging him tightly. You kiss his lips, sliding your hands through his hair and around his neck.

When you pull apart for air Dean says, “is that a yes?”

“The biggest yes ever! Of course, I’ll marry you, Dean! I can’t imagine my life without you, ever.”

“You treat my brother like my own, and you look after me every day, you got me to go on a goddamn plane. No one’s ever been able to provide me the comfort that you do, or cared for Sammy as you do. I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend or fiancé. And I know that being with me puts a target on your back, but I promise I will always do everything I can to protect you.”

“I know you will, baby. I love you so much. And as far as caring for you and Sam goes, I do it because I want to, because I love both of you in your own ways. Sam is like a brother to me and you, well you’re everything. You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a family in a very long time, and I always care for my family.” 

“That right there, all of that! That’s why I love you, well apart from the fact that you’re incredibly sexy, a badass Hunter and are absolutely magic in the bedroom,” he says with a wink.

You playfully punch him in the arm and then say, “as are you Dean Winchester, as are you.”

“The offer still stands for the backseat by the way, that offer always stands.”

“As much as I want to take you up on that offer, I really do,” you say as Dean starts peppering kisses down your neck, “we should go back and check on Sam.”

Dean groans and pulls back, “I hate that you’re right. You sure I can’t persuade you to change your mind.”

“Come on, fiancé. Let’s go back to the motel, talk to Sam and then get some sleep,” you say, unwrapping yourself from his embrace and standing up. You hold your hands out to help him up, but instead, he slips the simple sterling silver and zircon ring on your left ring finger. Once the ring is in position he takes your hand and stands up. 

“You know it’s gonna be ages before we get any time without Sam around…” he says. You shake your head at him and walk around to the front passenger seat. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

When you get back to the motel Sam is laying down on the couch reading through a lore book. Dean looks at the bed sceptically, no doubt thinking about Sam and the kitsune and how he caught them this morning. 

Catching him out of the corner of his eye, Sam says, “I’m not apologising for what happened in my motel room or bed. If you’re so grossed out, feel free to sleep in the car. Otherwise, you two are free to have the bed and I’ll stay here.”

Dean doesn’t say a word and just walks into the bathroom. 

“He’s a little pent up and frustrated with me, don’t mind him,” you say as you sit on the end of the bed. Sam turns around to look at you and he catches the shimmer of the dim lights off the new addition to your left hand.

“Congratulations. So you told him, I take it?”

“Thanks, but I told you, there’s nothing to tell. It’s just a feeling, no proof and literally no way that it can happen.”

“Whatever you say, but when you start feeling sick or eating weird food combos, I reserve the right-”

“So, anyway, I got Dean to agree not to hunt down the kitsune. We’re gonna trust you, but if it ever happens again then you have to loop us in. But, you saw the ring, so things may change a little. I think Dean and I may take some time out for ourselves soon unless something comes up and you need us of course. But if you can find a way out of this life too, you need to take it.”

“You know there aren’t many girls like you around … huntresses that understand the life and everything we’ve been through. I don’t think I can be with anything less now. But don’t let that stop you from getting out. You and Dean deserve to be happy and have a normal life.”

Dean comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low on his hips, you can’t help but check him out as he grabs a pair of grey sweats and a black tee and slips back into the bathroom. As soon as Dean comes back out you slip in, with one of his flannels and your underwear in one hand. You peck his cheek as you pass. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It’s just after 3 am when you hear rustling from the small motel kitchen. You feel Dean’s soft breath on the back of your neck and a heavy arm around your waist so you figure it’s Sam who still can’t sleep. He was up researching something on his laptop when you and Dean laid down together a few hours ago, you figured he wouldn’t be up long, but you were obviously wrong. You carefully slip out of Dean’s embrace causing him to roll over. You grab yourself a bottle of water from the fridge before joining Sam at the small table. 

“Can’t sleep?” you ask him.

“You’d think by now I’d be used to all the nightmares, but some nights they just-”

“I get them too, I get it. For me, Dean has helped a lot, just feeling his arms around me … I know I’m not alone. I really hope you find someone that can do that for you, but until then you have us. You know you’re the most important person in his life, and you’re like a brother to me. If there’s anything I can do-”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re like a sister to me too. But I wouldn’t be so sure I’m the most important person in his life anymore. Sure, he cares but-”

“You know how we got here, Sam? We flew, I may not have known until this morning, but I figure you know how he feels about planes, but he got on one to come find you.”

“Because he had you by his side. I guarantee that without you he would’ve wired a car.”

“That particular conversation may have come up … but anyway, the point is we’re here and we both care about you,” you say as you get up and round the table to hug him.

You look back over to your sleeping boyfriend seeing him starting to toss and turn, “try to get some sleep tonight, okay Sam? Even if it’s just a couple of hours. And remember you’re not alone and your nightmares can’t hurt you.”

“Thanks again, Y/N. Good night.”

You pat Sam on the shoulder and make your way back to bed. You snuggle up next to Dean, wrapping your arms around him and making him stop moving around. His hand instinctively grabs yours and you drift off to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

[cotieguzman]

Poly, Married and With Kids

I went on a second date today.

If you can believe it I connected with him over Tinder (shocker, I know). The only reason I bothered wanting to go on a date (which, if I am honest I thought was not a date when we first met for coffee) are for two reasons:

He is married, has kids (and is still happily married and living with his wife), is in a polyamorous relationship exploring what his bisexuality means to him.

After a few exchanges he wanted to meet in person because he prefers direct and open lines of communications face-to-face (boner!)

Why would the first point be a point of attraction? I know you're asking. Let me tell you.

I barely have time to remember to wipe my own ass if I take too long of a shit so the idea of a full time boyfriend exhausts me. So knowing that he has a life outside of my own that he is committed to going back to is appealing to me. I currently don't have the time or energy for a full time boyfriend (at least I think I don't). One day I could likely commit to something like this but I have found myself with barely enough time to breath.

Anywhoooo.

So I have gone on a second date. The first date was an obvious success. We went for coffee. I always have an exit strategy for coffee dates because I usually get bored after about an hour and I will want to move on with my day.

This time it was different for me.

Outside of questions involving some clarification around the dynamic of his relationship, a basic understanding of what he might be looking for in someone, I was actually intrigued by who this dude was. Firstly, hes fit (I know what you're thinking but seriously, I need someone who can climb a mountain with me and not fucking die). Secondly, he has a career as a medic in the military. Thirdly, he is a NERD! Like, we talked Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica and plants. Fourthly, he is fu-ck-ing hot (at least by my standards anyways). Firth(ly?), when we sat and talked over coffee (which was for 2.5 hours) he never once had his phone out. He didn't need to chronically check it or need to have it sitting out on the table like a security blanket.

After we finished our coffee date I felt refreshed and when I asked if I could kiss him (in public people, lets get used to this), I was his first kiss with a man ever. Do I hear birds singing in the background?

So, second date happened today. If I want to get to know someone I am going to avoid doing something like the movies, or seeing a show or something that is going to keep me from talking with the person (time is very precious to me so LETS GO).

We went to a board game cafe. I like board games a lot and he mentioned that he did also.

It was a great choice in the end.

At this point, the only shitty thing about sitting across the table and kicking his ass twice at the game was that my normal "I want to fuck this guy on the table" demeanor was starting to kick in. I am still trying to come across as a gentlemen despite knowing that I am a kinky little slut on the inside. *sigh* We played for two hours and decided to head to Campio for some za and beers.

I wanted to kiss him before pizza. I wanted to taste him. So, when we sat in the vehicle I asked (yes, I ask every time at the until I KNOW, you know?) We kissed like fucking teenagers and it felt great.

Campio was great. Now he is opening up about some interesting stories as a medic in the military and I try and make my life seem interesting without having to bring sex into the conversation. Whatever I am doing, it is working.

We finish eating, pay, leave and before we even get into the car we make out in the middle of the parking lot. He drives me home and we make out some more before I get out and go home to bed and make this post instead of being responsible and going to be bed for my 5:00AM wake up for clients (it's currently 12:59AM - I am dead).

You're probably wondering why I didn't take him home and fuck his brains out. Remember what I said about being a gentleman? Yeah, I can do that sometimes. Many people just don't get to see that side of me.

My take home.

Are straight men entering into queerdom my new flavor of interest for considering as a possible romantic partner? It feels nice to have someone want me (but... like this, not because they want to use me for sex) and he actually SAYS it. It also feels kind of nice knowing that I don't have to do all the work arounds of navigating another gay man with the same bullshit narcissism and gay themed trauma we all experience having to deal with one another (excuse the run ons, English was not my strong subject). I also feel refreshed by the idea that he knows NOTHING about me so I don't have to enter into this (whatever this is) with my walls so high I can barely breath.

On the plus of not getting laid.

I can save myself for my live show for my JFF account tomorrow.

#gaydating #polyamory #seconddate #SoundCloud

[moonstonedrawsrandomly]

Lucas 2.5

Redemption Au

Noelle washed her hands in the sink at the clinic and then began walking home. She was tired and honestly feeling pretty good. Busy day, lots of nice patients and the best of all, Moses wasn’t bothering her today. Such an awesome day.

‘I wonder if Lucas wants to have dinner again tonight. I didn’t realize how much of a charmer he was’

Noelle whispered. As she walked home, all of a sudden, two people with a gurney almost ran passed her.

“Miss Noelle! Please! Help us!”

What crummy luck, but things happen. Noelle ran back and dropped her bag at the front and strapped her gloves back on. Main doctor shows up as well

“What do we got, Alive or Deceased?”

“He’s gurgling, but we don’t know for how long…”

That’s not good. That means they might be dead already. They pulled back the blanket and Noelle unintentionally screamed….

It was Lucas…

“Step out Noelle, send someone else!”

He barked. Noelle sent another nurse. Lucas?!? How?!? She saw him last night! He dropped her off safely and gave her a kiss on the cheek! How did this happen?!?

Noelle wasn’t stagnant for long, being the more experienced nurse, she was told to come in and help. Lucas was a mess, something tore out his throat, and then diced his stomache into little pieces. They have brought back worse from the brink of death and they all tried their hardest. Unfortunately, it was all in vain.

“Time of death…”

And he was dead. Holding Noelle’s hand before he went to the other world. Noelle was saddened. She even kissed Lucas’s head before they turned his body over to the coroner.

“Fly high, Lucas…”

She whispered. The doctor and other nurses came to give their last respects to the dead. One of the doctors and nurses came out to talk to her.

“You couldn’t pay me to believe that Moses DIDNT kill him. That wasn’t no F-ing variant, that’s for sure! A variant would maul him and we’d still be able to save him. Whoever did that, wanted him to bleed out slowly…the monster…”

The doctor nodded. It seemed like Noelle believed that as well

“Seems like the news made it around the cult already…Noelle, do you want me to walk you home?”

The doctor asked. Noelle told him that she was okay, and just wanted to be alone. She picks up her bag and walks home. The sun sets in its lovely pinks blues and oranges…but Noelle couldn’t look at it. Her heart was full of sorrow and pain

“If I never mentioned his name…he’d still be alive.”

Noelle thought. Her eyes felt puffy from this whole day. What an awful day. And it was about to get worse. As she rounded the corner to her home, some people were hustling away from the area. Someone bumps her as she picked up her things.

“Sorry miss Noelle, someone saw Moses!”

guess who was outside her house? Moses. The murderer. The one who took her friend away. Why…why did he have flowers with him? Noelle didn’t care, and she didn’t even realized that she walked right past him.

“Noelle…”

He said. Noelle was putting her keys in her door. Autopilot. Moses walked around to see her face. Her eyes were hollow and empty, her eyelids pink and puffy from crying. He didn’t like that. He grabs her shoulder, dropping her keys.

“Noelle! Look, I bought you flowers! You like these, right?”

He tried to shove the flowers in her hands but they fell to the floor. Noelle does bend down, but only to pick up her keys and get into her house. She closes the door without another word. Moses bangs on her door for hours.

“Noelle! Talk to me right now! I’ll break down this door!”

Noelle doesn’t even remember if she ate anything that night, all she did was lay on her bed and weeped. She didn’t care anymore. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Lucas…”

She thought of the Dog she will never see again…

TBC

#redemption au #cult of the lamb #cotl fanfics

[warriorinthegarden]

Today’s Thoughts: I Still Love Him & That’s Okay-Part 1

I am coming to accept the fact that a part of me still and will always love my ex-husband. I still love him. I never wanted to separate from him or end our marriage. What I wanted was to fix our problems, but that never happened. For the sake of my sanity, I felt there was no other option than to end our marriage. I saw my ex-husband this past December (we had to sign over car titles per our settlement). I hadn’t seen him in-person in 3.5 years. I was nervous and a bit excited to see him--not going to lie about that. And y’all he looked good. Like damn good! Just like I remember except older, with a beard, and a little weight on him. He looked good! Upon seeing him, I instantly felt nervous and my heart began to beat a bit. He offered to get me coffee and while we were waiting for my drink, I sneaked a glance at him only to see him sneaking a glance at me. Awkward. To keep it short, throughout our conversation (about an hour) we talked about our lives, the last few years, our dogs, and the future. One thing that was clear to me by the end of the meeting was that he still loves me. And that’s not an arrogant statement. That man still loves me. It was clear as day in his face. And honestly, I still love him. I always will. Before we parted ways, he said to me, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I was a shit husband.” “You weren’t a shit husband. I think we both did the best we could.” “No, I’ve had time to think and I was a shit husband.”

His words still hit me. I don’t think he was a shitty husband. I think we both did the best we could with the tools and healing we had at that time. I had the opportunity to get back with him 2.5 years ago and to keep it short, I told him no. I didn’t believe back then that he was truly ready to do the work to fix our marriage problems, or get his own healing. I didn’t trust him with his addiction especially after he said, “I beat my addiction once, I can do it again.” I didn’t trust that arrogance. I think he genuinely believed we could make it work because he said that "love is all we need." I disagree with that statement. For a relationship to work, love is not enough. Love is the minimum. There also needs to be respect, communication, comprehension, compassion, action, compromise, willingness to face problems together, unity, and so much more. For the most part, I didn’t have those things with him. The communication, and action were the big ones. He would not course correct when he crossed boundaries. And to be fair, I didn’t know what boundaries were back then nor did I know how to enforce them in a healthy way. I was a different person back then. I am a new and improved version. And truthfully, he doesn’t know this version of me and I don’t know him either. The version of me that he knew, died. She died after all the stuff went down in 2020 with the wolf (go back and read early posts). And even though she no longer exists, the love I had for him still does. 

Part 2 Later

#growth #healing #self compassion #be kind to yourself #progress #grief journey

[rielfyre]

On Monday night one of my ex's texted me out of the blue asking me to dinner. I said yes, because why not. Our relationship wasn't bad he was just inatentive and checked out for most of it. In deep depression and being to inexperienced to deal with it in a healthy way. So he ran away from his problems, and isolated himself from me. We broke up because he started caring and actually showing he loved me too little too late. He's not empathetic at all, but back then he chose to ignore that.

He grew up. It's been 4 years since then. He's 26 instead of 22. All throughout dinner he apologized for his behavior back then. "I was a really bad bf to you" He told me everytime he thought about me he would always regret the way he treated me. He took blame for everything. I mean everything. Going from blaming others or ignoring problems or bad behavior to owning up to your mistakes, that's BIG .

He told me I had been running through his mind lately. I asked him how long and he said 18 months jokingly, but 3 months was the real marker for him getting the courage up to message me. He didn't type a long apology not because he wanted to do it in person. Do you know how hard it is to own up to your mistakes and behavior IN PERSON rather than over a computer screen? It's fucking hard.

Of course throughout the evening we joked about sex, because we're both dirty minded people and our sex life was never a problem. I told him sex was off the table for now because I didn't want it to be the reason we connected again. He agreed. He respected my boundaries, even asked if he could kiss me or lay his head on my lap.

Sex used to be so important to us because that was really the only time I spent time with him emotionally connected, having him all to myself. This time around he made it clear he wanted to see where things go. He wanted to emotionally invest in me. As we talked I came to realize that he really did love me. He was shitty at showing it, but from the way he talked you could see it. He told me he missed me at least 5 times in the 2.5 hours we spent together. Quality time. Just talking no distractions.

I got over him. It took a year but I did it. It scares me a bit that him coming back into my life. It felt so natural for my feelings to blossom as they did before. Don't get me wrong, it will take some time, probably a long time for me to love him like I did. Today we are both very different people. I was so sure he was going to cancel on me for dinner, but he didn't. He paid. Something he never did before except on our first date way back when. I know that seems like a miniscule detail, but when it comes to him it's huge.

It's still hard to believe and welcomed that he's changed so much. That he's grown up. He has a car and a job now. He does other things with his life other than constant video games. My cat likes him too. Very important.

I don't know where this will go or if it will even work out. I want to try, and he wants to try. It seems stupid to not try. He is as attractive as ever. Hasn't aged a day. Still 6'3 the tallest person I've ever dated. The top of my head fits right under his chin. I'm 5'8" for reference.

It's a risky move on my part because he destroyed me mentally. I loved him almost as much as my first love.

I'm going to try anyways. It's a risk I'm willing to take. I'm more secure with myself. I love myself and I'm happy with/by myself. I don't need constant attention I like my space and can balance things out now.

Past memories are there still, but I don't hold grudges unless you cross lines. Like my recent ex who did his very best to use me as a punching bag on his way out.

Wiping the slate clean and starting over, but still keeping those old memories with ourselves. Mostly good for me, I tend to forget the bad things and remember the good in someone. I'm excited and anxious all at the same time, but I know that I can recover if we don't work out.

I'm happy I got this chance, and I'm happier still that Jae isn't in my life. He would be so against this decision. I would feel so pressured to please that I probably wouldn't have even gone out with him to begin with. Without that gaslighting and control I made my own decision. One that I am happy with. Doing what I thinks is right for me, not what he thinks is right for me. It's liberating.

SO I will try again with him, the person my heart settles back so easily with, and we'll see how and where it goes. I'll keep you updated ~Mariel

[missy-lou-frodis]

Dennis "Larden" Sarokin recording with Every Mothers' Son c.1967

#Dennis larden #60s #Every mothers son #Denny sarokin #And we're back #Would you believe I talked to him for 2.5 hours today #And what a day it's been #I showed him this photo and asked him why he always looks like he's yelling #Loml

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

#zeke jaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke x reader #zeke smut #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk #snk smut #snk x reader #snk fanfic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #zekeythefreaky

[txemrn]

Book: Open Heart (after book 3)

Word Count: 1456 (+/-)

Warnings: Language, angst, maternal death

A/N: You guessed it; we did another Drunken Drabbles last night (which if you ever want to play, please join us! My buddies @chemist-ana, @jstawriterbee, & @kat-tia801 joined me last night--check out their DD! They actually have smut!), and this one is brought to you be Deep Eddie's Vodka. As far as the challenge? I broke every. single. rule. First of all, I passed out before I could schedule to post this, so here I am, 2.5 hours late. Second, I didn't use the prompt. There is literally no prompt to this. Third, I'm well over 1000 word. And finally, there is no smut. Nada. Zilch. What the hell happened last night? *rubs head* Some characters and plot belong to Pixelberry. Also, no editing or pre-reading with this bad boy, so please forgive me! Enjoy! 😎

***

Depositing a dollop of hand sanitizer in her palm, newly appointed Chief of Obstetrics Dr. Tatum Erikson escorts a nurse out of a labor patient's room. “Let’s go ahead and start that amnio,” she orders as she rubs her hands together. "300 bolus followed by 80 an hour. Call me if--" the chime of her pager interrupts her. "Shit."

"Ma'am?"

Tatum rubs her temples. "Sorry--um--" she looks back at her pager. "--call me if those decels don't resolve in thirty minutes--" she begins to jog down the birthing center's corridor, heading towards the stairs to exit the unit.

She bolts down the six flights, reaching the ground level at a rapid speed. She rounds the corner, pushing past the double doors next to a large red-and-white illuminated sign: Emergency. She sees the commotion ahead and a patient being transferred from a stretcher, not responsive.

"I'm Dr. Erikson," she frantically calls out over the chaos of the room. "I was paged 911. What've we got?" As a seasoned EMT rattles off vital signs and history, Tatum instantly recognizes Karla Hogan, a patient she saw this morning at her 38-week check-up appointment.

Oh, God, no... Please no...

"...she was found unresponsive at the scene of the MVA. Asystole. CPR in process for 17 minutes--"

"Epi? We've given epi?"

"Yes--"

"Atropine?"

"Maxed."

No, no, no. This can't be happening…

"Doctor, how would you like to proceed--?"

"Put a goddamn fetal monitor on my patient," she barks, turning to a nurse nearby. "You," she points, "page OB STAT Emergency overhead. I need an OR now--"

"It won't make a difference," bellows a cold, baritone voice from the doorway of the room.

Tatum freezes, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She knows that hauntingly deep voice: a voice that once made her giggle incessantly during the day while he purred her name late into the night; a voice that encouraged her, comforted her, believed in her all through medical school; a voice that once laid claim to her hand and her heart--that is until that voice found her in bed with his best friend. She knows that frigid tone anywhere.

"Ramsey," she mutters.

"A postmortem c-section?" He condescendingly questions, strolling confidently into the room. "She's been down for how long--?"

"But, if these chest compressions have been adequate, there's a chance--"

"She was gone before they even started--" he nonchalantly interjects as he begins testing the patient's reflexes.

"Doctor Ramsey," she chides before being abruptly interrupted by a trauma nurse.

"Dr. Erikson, I think I hear a heartbeat, but it's low and slow." Tatum nervously nods, taking a few deep breaths.

"That's good enough for me," she kindly thanks the nurse. "Alright, team," she boldly orders, "Let's get her ready for a cesarean." She turns to a nearby technician. "Where the hell is my OB team?"

"They've been paged--"

"Page them again," orders Tatum.

"But, doctor--"

"Page them again," Tatum's tone becomes more stern as she starts grabbing surgical materials. Slipping on a scrub hat, she turns to look into a pair of familiar, crystal blue eyes. "When's the last time you did surgery, Ramsey?"

The tall provider sardonically chuckles. "It's been a while," he crosses his arms, "but, it's not happening right now--"

Tatum scoffs. "Let's get her prepped people. Move!"

"Dr. Erikson," Ethan hollers, a warning in his tone. "You will not be performing this--"

"Watch me." Tatum fervently assists the nurses and technicians in positioning the gravid body. "If you've got a problem, take it up with the chief. This is my call--"

"Already have," Ethan snidely rebuttals, "and it's my call." Tatum stops applying her surgical mask, slowly turning her attention to his towering frame. Her wide eyes slowly trace down from his face to the embroidery of his white coat: Dr. Ethan J. Ramsey, Chief of Medicine.

Tatum blinks her lashes in confusion. "Where's Dr. Banerji?"

"Not here," Ethan smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Now will you be reasonable?"

"Reasonable?" She feels the anger burning inside her as she fights back the stinging pain of tears. Her eyes glisten with earnest pleading. "Ethan," she beckons under her breath, "We could save a life."

Ethan runs his hand over his face, allowing his fingers to rest against his chin. "Tatum, I--"

"Please. Do this," she swallows deeply, her voice reducing to a whisper, "for me?" Ethan's gaze fixes on his former love, a flash of memories flood before his eyes leaving the pair in a palpable stillness.

"Nurse," he calls out from over his shoulder, "I need a size eight glove."

***

"You want me to--"

"I can do it."

Ethan and Tatum walk in silence to the waiting room to retrieve Karla Hogan's husband. Recognizing him instantly, Tatum invites him to follow him to a more private room to talk.

"Just--just say it, Dr. Erikson." Tatum stuns in her steps, slowly turning to face the tearful husband and father-to-be. "Please don't make me take one more step, one more second not knowing that the love of my life--that she, my Karla--" his voice falls into sobs.

"We--we did everything--" Tatum's voice runs hoarse as tears drip from her cheeks. She clears her throat. "Mr. Hogan, I--I--" A sudden tunnel of darkness clouds around her head, the room falling silent. She feels her heart begin to panic, thundering in her chest as her breathing becomes more shallow. She's had this difficult discussion before with family members; but death in the maternity ward is never something one should get used to.

Suddenly, Ethan gently puts a hand on Tatum's shoulder, a comforting touch that always brought her back to reality. She takes a few deep breaths, looking up at him. He gives a curt nod as he squeezes her shoulder, stepping forward to talk.

"Mr. Hogan, we did everything we could…"

Tatum slips off her scrub cap, letting platinum blonde wisps cascade down her face. All she can picture in her head is Karla, how she was full of hope this morning‐‐they both were. And in the blink of an eye

"... but thanks to this skillful doctor right here," Tatum is pulled from her thoughts by Ethan's words as he points to her. "--your newborn baby girl is waiting for you, recovering in our Neonatal Intensive Care Unit."

***

After leading the emotional father up to meet his daughter, Tatum turns on her heel, making her way back to her laboring patients in the birthing center. But, before she exits the NICU, she discovers Ethan finishing a conversation with one of the neonatologists. Their eyes meet.

“Proud of you today, Tate,” Ethan offers a crooked smile.

Tatum dramatically steps closer to Ethan, crossing her arms as she raises an eyebrow. “Pardon me,” she lifts a hand up to cup her ears, “but did you just say, ‘You were right, Tatum; I was wrong’?”

Ethan pinches between his eyes while his other hand rests on his hip. “I’m never wrong--”

“Today you were--” she jovial pokes at him.

“You got lucky--”

“And you’re still bitter--”

“‘Bitter’?” Ethan scoffs, “of you--?”

“That someone’s medical intuition rivals your own--”

“Dare to dream, Dr. Erikson, but we both know exactly what your intuition is capable of--” The moment the words left his lips, a painful apologetic look plagues Ethan’s eyes as he watches the stunned hurt flash across hers. A thick silence floods between them, both of them unsure how to recover from such a low-blow of a remark. Tatum stares at the floor, unsure if she should just walk away.

“Tatum, I--” she shakes her head, waving her arm to dismiss the inevitable apology. She just wasn’t sure when she would stop paying for the sins of her past.

“So,” she tries to change subjects as a mischievous grin grows across her face. "I missed the memo. You're my boss."

"I'm your boss," he chuckles, crossing his arms.

"Hrmmm," Tatum raises her eyebrows, turning towards the door as a silence falls between them, again. She motions for the automatic door to open.

"Hrmmm what?" Ethan questions, turning towards her as the doors slowly open.

"Oh, I was just thinking," she lowers her voice, placing her hand on his arm. Ethan bites his lower lip as his cheeks begin to flush. His eyes flutter down to her lips before drifting back to her gaze. He swallows thickly.

"A-About what?" His tone matches hers.

She giggles letting go of his arm. She makes her way through the automatic doors and back en route to her department. But, not before she calls out over shoulder in a dark, sensually husky voice: "It wouldn't be the first time--" she twirls on her heel to look at him one more time, giving him a wink and a knowing smile, "--sir."

***

@chemist-ana @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @irisofpurple @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @phoenixrising308 @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @taniasethi @thefrenchiemama

#open heart #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #pixelberry #choices OH #choices OPH #drunken drabbles

[hopeless-ro-simptic]

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt. 5

Click here for other parts. Part 6 is up here.

Sorry for the delay, midterms kicked my butt and then I was sick all weekend, but here it is! For those wondering where Shoto is, don’t worry, he’s coming. This chapter is more of an introduction to the rest of the League. 

Word Count: 2.5 K 

Taglist:  @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears

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You expected there to by some sort of delay, making you sit in the black mist for a moment, a brief second before entering wherever it was taking you. There wasn’t. So, with no preparation at all, you were dropped into a corner of a dingy looking bar, surrounded by the unfamiliar scents of strangers. None of which you could assume were good company.

Dabi immediately shoved you behind him up against the corner, standing between you and the rest of the villains all of which who’s eyes immediately locked onto your own as you peeked out from behind him. There was no hiding your omega’s scent.

“My, my, someone smells delicious… what do you have there lover boy?” An Alpha on the other side of the room with a mask covering everything but his mouth and eyes stared back at you, smile on his face, a marble being rolled between his fingers.

“She’s so cute, I want a taste.” Golden eyes, wide with excitement, followed your movements as the petite blonde beta bounced in her seat, a knife between her fingers. You think you recognized her as the one that was called Toga, Shoto and his friends had run into her a couple times now. She had some kind of blood quirk and was obsessive with people.

You shrunk further back into the corner, eliciting a low growl from Dabi, which only made the alpha’s smile across the room widen.

“Now now pretty boy, why don’t you let the pretty girl say hello?”

The second beta jumped in now, his scent confusing your omega as it smelled both sweet and spicey, strong and weak all at the same time. “She should join us. Kill her she knows too much!” He sounded like two completely different people when he spoke, if you weren’t watching him you couldn’t have been sure that both voices were him.

The last person in the room, other than Shigaraki and Kurogiri, a scaled alpha with purple hair that sat the closest to you stayed silent, watching and listening.

You had barely blinked and the small blonde in the school uniform was in your face, peering around Dabi a wide smile across her features, her tongue licking her vampire like teeth.

“I’m Toga, that’s Twice, Spinner and the fancy guy in the top hat is Compress!”

“Toga!” Shigaraki growled out in annoyance.

“What? Everyone already knows who we are anyways! It’s rude to not introduce yourself.” Toga turned back to you, her crazed smile still wide, knife still in her hand. She took a step towards you only for Dabi to burst into flames, essentially engulfing you as well, forcing her to step back several paces.

“If anyone touches her I will rip their fucking heads off and burn them to a crisp”

The room was immediately filled with the scent of your panic rising as you tried to cower away from the flames licking at your skin but not burning you. You tried to rein in the panic, knowing you were fine but the sight and smell of the flames and smoke had your omega chirping wildly for help from an unknown source.

Dabi put out the fire as soon as everyone was far enough away, not even bothering to glance back at your terrified form. What the fuck was that? Did he know you couldn’t be burned? Did he care?

It was then that you noticed the deafening silence that followed. The questions hung thick in the air as everyone watched as your unscathed form looked up at Dabi with distress on your face. Even the hoodie you were wearing was barely burnt at the edges, making you wonder if most of his clothes were fire resistant somehow.

Kurogiri was the first to react, appearing suddenly in front of your form between you and Dabi, causing a low warning growl to be emited from the alpha, but the calm and collected beta ignored him completely.

“What’s your name little one?”

Dabi watched, ready to step in at a moments notice, but shockingly, you didn’t feel any malice coming from the well dressed mist in front of you. You had heard about majority of the member of the league from the Todoroki’s, mostly Shoto, but you were still amazed at the mist in front of you. Did he have a body? His scent was so soft and calming, even for a beta. It was so easy to miss. Like a light rain on a spring morning. It was no wonder you didn’t notice him when he first entered Dabi’s apartment earlier.

Everyone else was silent, watching on with curiosity as Kurogiri prompted you a second time.

“Your name?”

“Oh.. um… Y/N” You felt oddly at ease speaking to the mist in front of you, he didn’t have nearly the same effect on your omega that the other villains in the room did. You felt like he wouldn’t hurt you for some reason. You weren’t scared of him.

“Y/N…and can I ask what your quirk is, Y/N?”

You glanced over to Dabi, his face unreadable, before glancing around the room. As much as you didn’t want to tell the league of villains anything about yourself, you knew they weren’t going to leave you alone until you answered.

“Nullification skin… quirks and their effects that are outside of my skin don’t usually work on me. It’s pretty hit or miss though.”

Dabi glanced over to see that Shigaraki, who had been silently scratching away at his neck this entire time had stopped, glancing at his hands and back at you the question clearly written on his face. Dabi let out a snarl stepping towards the other alpha, ready to take him on if he so much as reached for you again.

“That doesn’t mean test it.”

You could see the blue haired alpha growing angry with how Dabi was talking to him. You didn’t want to be in the middle of another fight between the two.

“Come now, let’s not fight over the pretty damsel, I believe we have a mission to discuss?” Compress had spoken again, his eyes watching you with interest and something else. He made you uneasy.

“He’s right. Show and tell is over. We can deal with your little pet later. Kurogiri, get her out of here.”

Before Dabi could react, you were once again sent through the black mist of a portal, a soft chirp leaving your lips.

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The room you were in was small and looked like a prison cell if you were being honest. Maybe it was, after all you knew that the League of Villains was not above taking hostages. There was nothing in the room other than a toilet in the corner and a mattress on the floor, as well as a camera perched high up in the corner of the ceiling. Not even a blanket to keep you warm. There wasn’t even a door, which really had you confused. You guessed that the only way in or out of here was through a teleportation quirk. You curled up in the corner, on the mattress pulling your knees tight against your chest, tears streaming down your face as you cried silently.

You had always been a cry baby, the Todoroki pups used to tease you about it all the time, even Touya. Especially Touya. You felt like today you were allowed to cry though, given everything that has gone down in the last day or so. You felt like every five minutes you were going to die, and now the only person who seems to care about your safety, even though he is the one that kidnapped you to begin with, was ripped away from you, not to mention he clearly was hiding things. Like how he knew what your quirk was, or at least that his fire wouldn’t affect you. Had you been on fire at the market? Did he just assume you were fireproof? Or did he not know and just didn’t care if he burnt you?

The emotions that swirled in you were so confusing. You had been kidnapped, caught on fire, and almost killed.

On the other hand, your omega was over the moon at the attention you had received today. You hadn’t had someone look at you the way that Dabi does in years, in some ways ever. Were you just latching onto him emotionally because he is the nicest one out of all the murderers? You didn’t think so. Before the others were even involved he was kind to you. Sure he kidnapped you, and yes he was a cocky arrogant bastard that seems to think he has a claim over you. But he hasn’t even fully scented you yet. He hasn’t really forced himself on you. Not how a typical alpha would… and he gave you a blanket. Unscented. What alpha does that? For some reason, your omega, no not even, you were entranced by the blue eyed alpha. You wanted to smell him, to build a nest around him, to…

You frowned at your thoughts. Why were you going there? You barely knew this guy, and clearly he knew a lot more about you than you thought.  You couldn’t trust him just because he was a little nicer than some of the other alpha’s you had known, let alone the other villains you were surrounded by. Just because he is only the second other person to get you a gift. Just because he reminds you so much of a red-haired alpha that you missed with every ounce of your being.

Your stomach growled and you realized there was no food in this room or water, you weren’t sure how long it has been or how long you would be in here. Surely they would bring you some food and water, since they didn’t kill you outright.

Or maybe they would all grab some popcorn and watch as you starved to death, your mind going crazy at the silence.

After a few more minutes, or maybe it was a couple hours, you weren’t sure, the black mist of a portal finally showed up again, Dabi stepping through, it closing behind him. He looked tired and annoyed, his hair all sticking up from what you assumed was him running his fingers through it. It was a sexy look that’s for sure, but you ignored your inner omega, refusing to acknowledge his existence as you continued to stare at where the portal had been. At this point you were done crying, now you were angry.  

“I’ll be back in a couple days… you’ll have to stay here. It’s the best protection I can offer you right now. Tomura won’t even let me take you to my room here. He’s worried you’ll escape and go running to the hero’s” He glanced over at you, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his long cloak that was classic for his villain costume, a frown gracing his lips. “He’s probably not wrong I assume.”

“I want to go home,” His lips quirked up at your response. You sounded mad. Feisty. He liked it a little too much. He wanted to rile you up some more.

“I don’t doubt that, but which home are we talking about princess? The cage that is the number 2 hero’s domain? Or is it somewhere else?”

“What do you know about me?” Your eyes flitted over to his, a frown pulling at your face seeing that he was smirking per the usual. As much as your omega wanted him, there was no denying it at this point, you didn’t trust him for a second.

He squatted down in front of you, his arms resting casually on his knees, his face leaning in close to your own, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“I know that you’re not wearing any underwear right now, cause I have your panties in my pocket. I know that the little gasps you make are sexy as fuck, and that you’ll probably be a good obedient little mouse once we get down to the nasty of things. I know that your lips look so damned kissable and I know that you want m-“ You shoved him, causing him to fall back onto the floor in front of you a weak hiss coming out of your throat, your face beet red.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it” the smirk on his lips wavering slightly as you turned away from him again, your voice flat. You were tired, you didn’t want to play his games right now. You were already starting to feel numb from the constant stress.

He let out a sigh, pushing himself back up onto his feet, pulling a walkie-talkie from his cloak pocket, tossing it to the bed next to you.

“Look, Kurogiri has the other one, if you need anything call him, he will get it for you. I’ll be back in a couple days and then we can get you into a more comfortable place okay? With a real bed.”

You continued to ignore him, wishing he would just leave you alone. Apparently having your life threated and being toyed with was exhausting. You curled up into yourself, facing the corner of the room leaning your head against the wall, as you heard the shuffle behind you the Alpha waiting for any kind of response.

After about a minute, he let out a soft grunt, turning to leave, pausing once more.

“Is there anything you want from the apartment before I leave? Maybe your old clothes for comfort…” You could barely hear the last part, a strange sadness tinting his voice. They only barely had Shoto’s scent on them, but you somehow knew that was what he was referring to.

Your omega spoke before you could even think.

“Can I have that blanket back... and some food?”

It was only a couple minutes after he left that the portal opened, your blanket, a singular pillow that after a quick sniff you confirmed was the one from his bed, and a bag of snacks and food being dropped onto the floor before closing again. You shuffled over grabbing the pillow and blanket planning to make what little of a nest you could when you noticed a sticky note with one word scratched onto it stuck to the bag of snacks. Reading it made your heart flutter in a way that you hated. Why did your omega want him?  

Sorry.

#bnha omega #alpha dabi #omega reader #bnha #mha #mha omegaverse #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x reader #crispy

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

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A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

#om! #obey me #obey me swd #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me x reader #obey me mammon x reader #gn!mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #sfw #fluff #comfort

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe | 4.0

»Genre: hitman!au/bountyhunter!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is purely fiction.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 

A/n: will edit later^^ hope u enjoy💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie​ @tangledsparkles​

The city has always held dark secrets in the shape of hopes and dreams, luring in optimistic ankle-biters, wishing to really become something. And more often than not, it works out. That dreamer gets to live the reality they’ve been waiting for, and it all seems a little too perfect.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

“One coffee please,” Peeking up from his phone, he acknowledges the petite waitress, “no cream no sugar.”

“Coming right up,” 

He’s gone over the folder a thousand times, just making sure he didn’t miss anything. As far as information on you, he’s got all he needs, now it’s a matter of finding out what you were doing in the 24 hours before you vanished. He was able to stop by the police station and talk with the detective on the case. She wasn’t much help, but she did say Suzy had been calling her twice a day, looking for updates. Jin didn’t contact her as often but he’s been waiting for updates from Yoongi instead.

“Excuse me?” He pulled from his thoughts when he sees the woman in front of him, “Hi, I’m Suzy, you’re Min Yoongi, right?” She looks a bit unsure, he figured she’s just waiting for him to respond.

“Yes, sorry,” He stands up and shakes her hand before they both take a seat, “thank you for coming so short notice.”

“Of course, a meeting was canceled this morning so I had the time,” Sitting her purse in her lap, she tries to look relaxed but the way her brows furrow, he knows she’s worried, “I hope I can help in some way,” 

“How long have you known her?” He opens up a little notepad and takes out a pen.

“Six, Almost seven years now. She was an intern for a while, she’s been writing for us for all that time. Recently, I wanted her to start dabbling in field assignments as a reporter, she wasn’t too keen on the idea but she agreed.”

She glances at the notepad as he quickly jots down little notes. “What was the assignment?”

“A press conference with a lot of the controversy regarding the parties who attended. Quite a few people who attended from some news stations and outlets like that started dying off. She doesn’t really do politics, but I asked her to write an article on it because she was there. On the morning of publication, she didn’t show up to work. The publication was at 8 so I had to look for it so we could publish it. She had been working on it for weeks but it was missing from the writer's archive, it looked like it was deleted. The physical copy was gone and her computer was too. That’s when I went to her house and she was gone...”

The deep furrow in Yoongi’s eyes has her swallowing the lump in her throat.

“She went missing the day the article was supposed to be published? Am I the first person you’ve told this to?” She nods. 

“Why didn’t you tell the police about this? If she went missing the exact same day the article was to be published, that information changes the case. Knowing that others who attended this conference have died, there’s a chance she was being targeted because she was there as well.”

“I- I don’t know, I just didn’t think about it, I never would have thought she’d be targeted for posting a harmless article.”

“I’m going to assume she was being targeted because of the article, it makes the most sense. Someone at that conference didn’t want this to get out and they knew she was writing the article somehow.”

If her heart could sink any lower, it’d be in her feet. She should have never had you write that article, maybe you’d still be here if she had just listened to you. “What does this mean?”

“This city is filled with crooked people in power, there’s a chance that one of them were behind this,” He closes up the notepad and takes one sip of coffee, “I’ll do a little digging and see what I can find.” He pulls his jacket on and tucks a few dollars under his cup.

“Wait,” She stops him, “what can I do to help? I feel like this is my fault, if anything bad happened to her-”

“Don’t blame yourself for this, it could have happened to anyone. Secondly, if you could give me sources on everyone one at the conference; reporters, cameramen, moderators, anyone. Someone had to have witnessed something, and I need to talk to them.”

“Okay, I’ll work on that today.”

Police, detectives, forensic scientist, all the necessary individuals required to pursue a missing person case passed through the station, on their own assignments. One of the detectives on the officers on the case, Jaemin, slips into his office to take a call.

“Hello? Mr. Lee, I’m sorry I could get to you early,”

“That’s fine, I just had a quick question. That missing persons case, you all are getting ready to drop it right? I heard there was investigation still going on,”

“Yes, unfortunately, we have an outside source working on the case and I hear he’s good. But don’t worry, Minho, I can shake him.”

“I hope so, one little reporter shouldn’t have made a big case,” He sighs, annoyed at the thought, “she’s dead, the client got what he asked for. I want this case to close as soon as possible.”

“I hear you, I’ll make sure it happens,”

“Good.”

He hangs up the phone and glances at the man across from him, waiting for the hefty check owed for his handwork on his last job. With a deep sigh, Minho picks up a pen and writes the check quickly and tucks it in an envelope before handing it to him.

“Everything okay, boss?” Jimin takes the envelope with a peachy smile.

“Kim’s last case is causing some problems- Not an error on his part of course, the target was reported missing and an investigation is happening. It was a multiple target case but there was one target that’s just fucking it all up,”

Jimin makes a thoughtful face. “A female? Young?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Minho crooks a brows.

“He doesn’t seem like the type but I don’t know, where’s the body?”

“He doesn’t disclose that type of information, I respect his decision to do that,” Minho sighs, looking through files of other guild members to match them with clients, “I can’t imagine it’s a pretty process,”

“Well, maybe-” He pauses, finding the thought a bit humorous, “Maybe she’s not dead, y’know, just a theory,” He purses his lips, “but maybe not, his record is so clean, I doubt he’d leave a witness to tell the tale of whatever he does to them. I don’t blame him,” 

“He told me that she’s dead, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Well, if he won’t disclose the body, how can you be sure? And you said he killed the other targets and there’s evidence of that, why is she the only one gone missing?” Jimin makes a nonchalant observation and Minho starts to really think about it, could Taehyung be hiding something? That’s not like him, he’s one of his best. He’s never had to doubt Taehyung, every assignment he’s been given, he’s completed without flaw. He can’t believe Taehyung would do anything to put the organization in jeopardy, he won’t believe it.

“Jimin, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

The smell of blueberry pancakes tantalizes your senses, your eyes sleepily follow his movements from the fridge to the stove every few minutes. He’s making late breakfast because he said he was in the mood for some brunch. You finally get a glimpse at the tall stack of pancakes next to the griddle and you sigh, it looks so good. 

A few days have gone by, and the sleeping arrangements have been different. Some nights, he’ll tell you you can sleep in the spare room and others he’ll have you sleep with him, it’s not entirely unpleasant when you’re with him. He makes you answer questions and tell him about your hopes, dreams, fears, and everything in between. Generally, he's been more lenient with you, not chaining you up so often, letting you roam around a little bit to get some exercise. Lately, he's felt more like your companion than your captor. You’re beginning to see parts of him that are so human. And you’re starting to believe that he’s not lying to you, he’s genuinely trying to protect you. It’s hard to believe that that’s where you’re head is.

He has music on, playing soft study-like songs that make you feel calm. You tried to keep from grinning, like you’d try to contain a cough in a quiet classroom. He sways to the rhythm gently, tapping his foot and flipping the fluffy breakfast treats. How he hums to the song absentmindedly, it reminds you of how Jin used to hum while studying or doing anything really. Taehyung’s voice is really nice, it’s smooth and comforting

“Y/n, come taste,” He turns and holds a fork up with a piece of pancake on it, beckoning you to come to have a bite. You go to him of course, happy to sample what you’ve been smelling for the past thirty minutes. When you come to stand by his side, eye-level with his shoulder, you wait for him to put a piece on a fork for you.

“Say ah,” He holds the fork to your mouth and as silly as you know you might look, you don’t care, you just wanna eat. Your mouth opens and your eyes go wide when it finally meets your taste-buds, “good?”

You nod, it’s as good as it smells. You wonder why you haven’t tried to cook like this for yourself before. Work seemed to consume you, you can admit that. Sometimes, a coffee would suffice as your breakfast. And at night, a drink and a burger with fries from the restaurant down the corner would satisfy you. But cooking, making something for yourself, it hasn’t happened in a while. You used to do it a lot when you first moved when you and Jin were spending a lot of time together. It’s different being by yourself, it’s sometimes easier to over-treat yourself with fast food or quick little meals from local places. Seldom do you get to enjoy a homemade meal made just for you. He’s smiling down at the two plates he’s making when you look up from your daze and for some reason, you feel shy but a little, happy? 

No, stop it. You’re not supposed to feel happy, don’t allow yourself to sink further into that deceiving head-space. Into the space that makes him the source of humanity, the reminder that you’re alive. Finding yourself looking forward to seeing the light in his eyes, hearing the bass in his voice heavy on your ears. It feels good, you relish in it. Yes, you’re still trying to stay on his good side but these positive feelings, they feel too real. 

“Let’s eat somewhere different today,” He gives you your plate with a cup of syrup, a fork, the works. “I think I need a change of scenery,” 

You’re not sure where’s he’s planning to have this breakfast when he starts walking upstairs. For a moment, you think he’s going to his room but then he walks to the room where he’s yet to open since you’ve been here. Your stomach turns, you’ve been wondering what was behind this door.

When he opens the door, he waits for you to enter first, a smile ever so present on his face, he’s in such a good mood. 

You walk inside and the size of the room alone is huge but you’re more surprised by the canvases propped against the wall. The white sheets spotted with colors and a bit bunched at the edges, it’s an art studio of some sort. Is this what he does when he’s home? There’s one canvas on a tall easel and it looks unfinished so he must’ve worked in here not too long ago.

He takes opens the French doors to the balcony and takes a seat on the floor. You do the same, holding your plate above your lap in the same way he’s holding his. The smell of the paint doesn’t bother you too much because of the fresh air, and the blueberry pancakes outweigh the smell as well. “Thank you for breakfast.” You whisper, now cutting into your three fluffy stacked pancakes, what you more interested in at the moment honestly.

“You’re welcome,” He grins to himself, “other than what I’ve been making, what do you like to eat? I’m getting groceries tomorrow,”

You don’t respond, too busy staring out the window in a daze and eating as if he weren’t there. He calls your name to get you to glance at him, just to make sure you can hear him. “Nothing,” You deadpan, “I’m okay...”

“There has to be something you want.”

“Fine,” You set your fork down, a little annoyed, “um, chocolate chip cookies, the ones with the chunks, and almond milk.” Hoping he’s satisfied with your answer, you finish the last bite of your food and continue to enjoy the view outside. 

He takes your plate and sits it in on his so he can take it downstairs, leaving you to the peaceful room by yourself. You’re just now realizing how large his land is. There are other large homes nearby but they’re a fair distance away. 

It’s been a while since you felt the sun on your bare skin or the soothing breeze dance past you. You’ve missed this, running in the early hours of the day when the air is just right. The first people you used to see were a handful of dedicated adults jogging, some accompanied by their dogs.

This paint room has a super tall ceiling, makes you feel like you’re in a museum. When you look at some of the paintings on the floor propped against the wall, you smile. It looks like he likes to paint faces, distinct expressions on faces. Then there are flowers, the basic artist subject. There’s a long wooden desk with paintbrushes, pens, pencils, paper, a lot of paint. 

He comes back to the room, but his presence is oblivious to you for a little while, until his stumbles over a stray paintbrush and you look back at him.

He straightens up, his big eyes staring you down as he walks over to you. “Do you like to paint?”

“I’ve never really done it before, maybe when I was little but that’s about it,” You watch him open up a case and pick out a few brushes. He opens a few tubes of paint and squeezes a small amount on a pallet, then sets that down in front of you, “is that for me?”

“Mhm,” He nods. Gently taking the canvas that’s covered with a sheet from the easel, he puts it on the floor with some of the others. He opens up the closet to look for a nice-sized blank canvas for you to use. You pick up a brush and absentmindedly brush it against your skin to see how soft it is. 

“Here we go,” He adjusts the canvas onto the easel, “come stand here,” He gestures to the little space directly in front of the easel and you oblige, curious.

“You want me to paint something?” You look back at him, a little confused.

“Yeah,” He stands next to you, staring at the blank canvas before looking at you, “only if you want to.”

This is probably the most interesting thing you’ve done since you got here, you figure he’s starting to trust you more. You take a moment to pick a brush, given you have little to no knowledge about this craft, you choose a random one. Not too big, not too small.

He watches you debate over which spot of paint you want to dip the brush in, you decide on blue. A dark blue with a little bit of white. At first, you try to draw a flower, something easy, but it proves to be harder than you anticipated. When you think the brush will make a nice little crescent shape for a petal, it makes an unappealing squiggle. As menial as it seems, its frustrating that it’s not coming out the way you envisioned in your mind. After about five minutes of trying to fix it, your patients get peeled down to its last layer.

“Ugh,” You withdraw your hand and just stare at the canvas, a deep frown on your face, “it’s not coming out right...”

“You have to give it a chance,” He gets up from the bar-stool he was sitting on in front of the desk, “take a step back, and think about something beautiful that little mistake could become.”

Giving up on your small brush, you squeeze a glob of paint on the pallet and exchange the brush for your fingers. He tilts his head when he sees you rub your fingers in the pallet and then drag your hands down the canvas. Coming up behind you, he tries to get a better look at what you're doing. You’ve dipped your hands in different blues and you covered the canvas completely, eyes focused.

Your hand stutters when you see his long fingers mimic the movement that you’d been doing. Being that his size nearly doubles your own, his chest is just centimeters from you. His arms comfortably reach the canvas, as if you weren’t an obstacle. 

“What’re you doing...” You sigh, making gentle brushing motions alongside his, “This is my painting.”

“Oh, so you do want to do this?” His fingers stop all movement, “I didn’t think you cared that much, I’m sorry,” He pulls back, ready to wipe his hands but you grab his wrist with your paint-covered hand.

“I’m kidding,” He didn’t seem to mind getting the paint on his skin because he didn’t get upset, “you’ll probably make it look better anyway.” 

It’s tearing you up. How this feels nice and how you don’t want him to stop. Just standing here, so close to him, and watching his fingers dance across the canvas, it’s torture. When your hands bump, both of you laugh and it makes a pretty burst of blue.

He dips his hand in the lightest shade on the pallet and presses it on the edges of the canvas before you let your hand fall from the art-work. It takes a minute, but he stops putting on the finishing touches and steps back to look it over.

“Hm,” He grabs two rags from the floor, giving one to you and keeping the other for his hands, “I like it.”

You try to wipe your hands clean but they still have a bluish tent. “What about this does something for you?...” 

“I like capturing a moment in time, making my thoughts into something visual and tangible, it’s therapeutic.”

You stare at the painting in an attempt to see something poetic, or anything other than a bunch of blue paints smeared on a canvas. But in your futile attempt, the thought that he might think you’re enjoying this comes to mind, does he think you’re enjoying this? Giving you art supplies to keep your occupied like a little child, you shouldn’t be offended but it does feel a bit patronizing.

“That’s probably why you write, yeah?” He asks, leaning against the stool. “I’ve read all of your articles, you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself through words.”

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” You toss out an honest answer, “I wouldn’t call it therapeutic, but I do enjoy it...”

“I was hoping this room could be an outlet for you, somewhere for you to clear your mind.” 

Lately you’ve been falling into theses moments of zoning out and you just feel like you’re losing your mind. But that’s when he comes behind you, wraps his arms around you and you instantly come back. And it goes like this, almost every day. He gets closer, you let him, and you start to feel more like he wants to trust you.

“What does our painting mean to you?” He shuffles you forward, getting you closer to the painting with his arms still secured around you.

“You tell me first,” You counter.

He takes a look, head tilting a bit, “It makes me think of my childhood, it wasn’t a very colorful one. I was taken from my mother as a toddler after the courts deemed her an unfit parent. She was in a bad place, had no business having a kid anyway.” He rests his head atop yours, mentally slipping into his past to reveal it to you.

“I was in foster homes until I was a teenager, went from house to house every few months. The people who'd come and take me home were either trying to get money from the state or looking for another helpless kid to work for them. I didn’t know it then but I wanted stability, I wanted someone that I could depend on but never got it. I ran away when I was a teenager and depended on my self and here I am.” You can hear a smile in his voice, but you’d dare to say it was pain out of pain.

“It’s all blue, blue can mean stability or loyalty, that’s how I see it.” He let’s his hands slide down your arms and back up to your shoulders to give them a squeeze. “Also, we made it together, so that’s special in itself. Now, your turn,”

“Um,” You purse your lips, “it’s nice...” You answer as if you didn’t know any other words, you’ve never been good with speaking anyway. You rather write paragraphs than ramble on. 

“It is,” He agrees, “but how does it make you feel?” 

“I don’t know,” You frown, pulling his arms off so you can walk off, “it’s just a painting.” It’s cold not having his arms around you but you reason that you need the shock. 

You don’t want to start thinking deep, knowing about his past, sympathizing. You need to look like you don’t care. Does he buy it? Probably not, but sometimes he doesn’t like to force you to talk, it puts you in a foul mood and he notices.

“Just when I think you’re about to open up,” He tsks, shaking his head, “you remind me of the situation, and how you want so badly to make this uncomfortable for both of us.” His cheery mood is faded and you know you screwed this up.

You defend yourself nonetheless. “I’m not trying to make this uncomfortable for anyone, I’m already uncomfortable.”

“You’re such a liar,” He turns you to face him and steps in front of you to eliminate the space, “a bad one though.” You look up at him, trying not to let him intimidate you into backing down. 

“I’m not lying.” Wow, that’s the best defense you could come up with.

“You are,” He pushes his hand through his hair, a stressed furrow in his dark brows, “I’m glad we ended up with each other, really I am. But when you act like this, I can’t say it doesn’t hurt a little,” He leans down, breathing against the apple of your cheek almost. “because I know it’s not how you really feel.” 

Taking his time, he looks your face other, and this is what kills him the most. He gets so close to your face and everything in him wants you to lean in, he waits for the moment that you lean in and eliminate the space between you two. 

Ding dong. You’re saved when the doorbell rings and you use this as your chance to slip away from him. He drops his head and sighs, this was bound to happen, he sort of regrets approaching you anyway. When he leaves he closes the door and leaves you wishing he was anyone else. You could hate anyone else right now.

When he checked the cameras on his phone, he was surprised to see that it was non-other than Park Jimin, what does he want? The bell rings for the second time and he rushes to silence it.

“Kim,” The man smiles, and Taehyung takes in his casual attire, meaning he was off today just like him, “I was beginning to think something happened to you,” His eyes intermediately go to Taehyung’s blue-tinted hands, “sorry to drop in unannounced like this.”

Taehyung makes an offended expression almost, he can’t hide his physical reaction to the concern, it seemed fake. “Didn’t have my phone on me, what do you need? It’s my day off,” His tone isn’t rude, but genuinely confused.

“I, uh,” Jimin rakes his mind for the story he’s supposed to tell, “my cuff-links! I left them in the bathroom that night,” His smile looks a bit too plastered, and when Taehyung doesn’t invite him in he let’s out a nervous laugh, “they’re expensive okay, rubies, can I grab’em?”

Taehyung opens the door wider so he can come in. He just hopes you have enough caution to stay hidden until Jimin leaves. 

“So,” Oh no, he’s making conversation, “been doing some painting?” Jimin disappears into the small hall where the bathroom is to get his “cuff-links,” or so he says. Assuming Taehyung was hiding someone in the house, that evidence wouldn’t be in the guest bathroom. He has to stay in there a little longer, he hasn’t looked around well enough.

“I was,” He was trying to do a little more than that.

“Found’em,” He opens his hands to show the cuff-links that he planted just now, “Hey, can I get some water?” 

“Sure,” Tae goes to the sink to wash his hands and Jimin leans on the large marble island, waiting patiently. Two plates. That’s the first abnormality that he notices. Two place-mats at the table and two sets on dishes in the sink, but it doesn't seem like he’s had any guest, there’s no car in the driveway.

“Y’know, I heard about that missing girl, one of your targets,” Jimin throws it out there, seeing if he’ll take the bait and give a reaction, “I bet that’s stressful.”

“It’ll blow over,” He opens the covert and takes out a glass, “how did you know she was my target?”

Damn, he shouldn’t have said that,

“You know I’m close with Minho, he mentioned it. He said it wasn’t your fault though, the investigators have an outside party helping, that’s why it’s not closing as fast. I have a little question for you,” He grins, “you don’t have to answer but Minho said it was a young girl, a writer, apart of a multiple target case, how did you do it?”

Taehyung sets the glass in front of him. “It doesn’t matter how I did it, as long as it’s done.” 

“You’re as stiff as they come, Kim,” Jimin decides to lay off before Taehyung grows anymore suspicious, “I don’t do target eliminations but if I did, I would spill some details sometimes.” He takes a few gulps of water and looks at Taehyung who hasn’t stopped staring at him for the last few seconds.

“Well, thanks for the water,” He makes his way to the front door and Taehyung is more than happy to walk him out.

“You’re welcome,” He watches Jimin pass through the door and when he sees him get in his car, he closes the door with a sigh of relief. 

He doesn’t go into his art studio for hours after Jimin leaves. He settles for busying himself with going over his next assignment over twenty times.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep this up, he never thought he’d get to this point. Something wasn’t right about that, Jimin isn’t his friend, and he’s never approached him like this—he knows something. When he makes his way upstairs, he tries to brush it off but here you are in his sanctuary to remind him.

“You were gone for a long time, who was that here earlier?” You mumble, barely sparing him a glance from your gaze off the balcony.

“No one you need to worry about,” He’s upset, that much you can tell, “I need you to go back to the basement for a little while, so you need to use the bathroom and eat.”

“What?” You can’t be hearing him correctly. “But why?...”

“Because I said so,” He stands in the doorway, arms crossed and posture uninterested, “let’s not have a repeat of last time,” 

“But I haven’t done anything wrong...” The light drains from your eyes and anxiety pits in your stomach. “Is this because I wouldn't tell you what I felt about the painting?... Taehyung, I-”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” You walk inside and tears start to burn at your eyes instantly. You walk over to him and look to him with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll find it in his heart to change his mind. “Taehyung, I hate being down there, I’ll go to the other room, I won’t bother you...Please just don’t make me stay down there.”  Tears stream down your cheeks and 

“There’s an outside investigator who’s looking for you, the police are looking for you, and soon enough the man who hired me will be looking for you too. I’m trying to protect you and make you comfortable but you only like the benefits of getting close to me, you don’t actually appreciate that I’m giving you so much.” His tone is cold, no longer filled with that tinge of adoration and warmth.

“I do appreciate it!” You didn’t think he’d get so upset, you’re trying to save yourself now. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” He cuts you off, hands reaching for your arms but missing when you pull away. He grabs your arms with more than enough force and pulls you to him, and this time it hurts, “Don’t fucking pull away from me.”

“B- but,” You whine, wiping your tears as you try to comprehend why he’s acting like this all of a sudden. “Taehyung, please-”

“Shut up!” He lashes out, eyes dark and voice louder than it’s ever been before as his grip on you just tightens. “Stop whining like you’re hurting because you’ve made me feel a lot worse than this. You think I don’t notice what you’re doing? I’ve let you push and pull for as I could,” The volume in his voice seems to increase his physical size somehow and decrease your own, “but your little game isn’t fun anymore, I’m fucking sick of it now.”

“But I’m not-” You try to speak but he clamps a hand over your mouth and the horror of your worse nightmare washes over you. He’s trying to hurt you.

“Be quiet.” He walks forward until your back is pushed up against the wall, letting his hand fall from your mouth slowly so he can take your trembling wrist in his hands. 

“All this time, there was so much I could have done, that I’ve wanted to do, but I’ve waited patiently...” By the way he keeps biting the inside of his cheek, it’s clear that he’s teetering on the edge of something. 

“You’ve been starting to want it too and that’s why you push me away so hard, for some reason you like to deprive yourself.” He cracks a smile and looks up at you’re teary eyes, cooing at the sight of you falling apart.

“But you won’t admit that to yourself, or me. So, the best thing I can do for us is to lock you back up.” You shake your hand but he nods, a cynical glint in his gaze when you lean your head back to stop some of your tears. 

“Why’re you shaking your head no? That’s what has to happen. Here’s how it’ll work; I’ll blindfold you so you don’t even have to see me and I won’t have to see those pretty eyes anymore. Maybe even gag you so I don’t have to hear your sweet little voice say another word. Then I’d have the pleasure of taking you upstairs and giving you a bath each and every day, you wouldn't want to see scary-Taehyung, right? So that blindfold will have to stay on. You’ll just have to trust that the only eyes and hands on you are my own. And every day I’d come down to feed you and you’d know that I’d make your life a living hell if you dared say one word. There would only be a hand full of sounds I would allow you to make,” He tilts his head, amazed by how much color had left your face. 

“How does that sound? You wouldn’t have to be around the big scary-Taehyung anymore, is that what you want?”

Your lips tremble when you attempt to open your mouth and say something, it’s too scary. He’s scary. All this time, you’ve been waiting this out, trying so hard to stay calm and get close, but not too close. And this is the result.

“Answer me.” You shake your head, fearing the sobs that would erupt from your mouth if you spoke. But he doesn’t care, “Ah-ah, I’m not gonna treat you like a little baby just yet, answer me with your words.”

“N- no...” You push out your answer, chest heaving from trying to breathe through your cries.

“No,” He scoffs, mocking your answer, “well had you been the target for anyone other than me, that’s what would have happened to you. You either trust me, or you don’t, you can’t have it in the middle anymore.” Hands still firm on your arms and knee still anchored against you so you can’t move, it’s suffocating. “You have to choose, do you trust me or not?”

“I- I trust you...” You sniffle, nose burning red and your sight blurred from your tears.

“Ah, I don’t believe you,” He drops his hands from you, “I think you need to learn your lesson in the basement until I think you can be honest-”

“No!” You throw your arms around his waist and wail into his chest like a baby. “I- I trust you! I do, please don’t put me down there-” You hiccup, “I’m sorry, I really do trust you, I know you’re only trying to protect me, I get that now. I- I just want to stay with you, I wanna be with you.”

You want to be with him, a sentence he never thought he’d hear you say. He was just trying to scare you into revealing your true feelings but he didn’t expect you to cave that fast. He returns your affection, wrapping his arms around you gently. “Yeah, that’s what you really want?” You nod vigorously, your grip around him so tight it would take a hundred men to pull you off.

“Yes,” You look up at him, and just the quick, the Taehyung that you know is back. Those soft eyes, that gentle smile that wants nothing but to see you smile, make you happy. This is the only Taehyung you ever want to see. 

He caresses your hair, pushing it back from your flushed face. The way you’re staring up at him, it makes him feel like you’re the only people in the universe and he’s swimming in a galaxy made of the stars in your eyes. He wants to eliminate that little space. But you beat him to it. You’re on your tippy-toes and that pesky little space is eliminated and he plunges face-first into the seventh heaven that is you. You have to show him and yourself that you trust him, you want to prove it. Your eyes are sealed tight and you’ve given up all control in favor of him doing as he pleases.

“Mh,” He leans down to lessen your reach and puts your hands around his neck. Breathless, his lips start to tingle and he bites down to regain a more familiar feeling. You’re so soft, just like he imagined. It’s all too much but not enough all at once. 

He carried you away with loving arms, leaving all of his feelings to tip over like a bucket of paint and spill over the blue-stained sheets

* *  *

“Hey boss, I went to his place this morning,” Jimin finally got the call from Minho, “did I see anything? Not really. There were two placemats at the table, two sets of dishes, it kind of looked like he had someone over but there was no one that I could see. Maybe he had someone over last night, I don’t really know,”

“Did you ask about the target?”

“I did, but he gave me a bland answer. He said it doesn’t matter how it’s done as long as it’s done, his usual, sorry I couldn’t be more of more help,” Minho thanks him for his efforts before hanging up the phone. 

“I’m just so scared for her,” She plucks her third tissue from the box in front of her, “I haven’t slept in days.”

Jin drove all this way to sit with your mother, he called her and she said her husband out on business. He couldn’t imagine being alone when your child is missing, the thought alone hurt.

“It’ll be alright,” Jin sits at with your mother, who at one point he thought had a chance of being his mother-in-law. “They’re doing everything they can to find her, she’s a fighter.” He grasps her hand.

“I know,” She sighs, crumpling up the tissue and throwing it in the bin, “you came all this way, have you eaten? I feel like cooking something.”

“I wouldn’t want to make you-”

“Please, I know you have the same favorite meal as Y/n, let me make it for you.” 

“Alright, thank you,” He smiles, watching her leave to the kitchen with a bit more light in her eyes. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he slips it out.

Min Yoongi: I talked to Suzy today and I can almost guarantee that her being missing is related to the handful of reporters who died at a conference she attended a few months ago. Why she was the only person that went missing makes me suspect an alternative motive. I’ll update you if anything changes.

Yoongi slips his phone back in his pocket and walks into the police station, it’s late but he hopes the cop over your case is still in. When he walks up to the front desk and asks, the receptionist points him into the direction of the person he’s looking for.

“Min,” The man smiles, extending his hand and dropping his conversation with the Sargent in front of him.

“Cha Eunwoo, so you’re the lucky guys on this case,” Yoongi has known Eunwoo since his days at the academy. He went FBI and Eunwoo went police department, both choosing paths that fit them the best in the end.

“Yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck, dismissing the guy he was talking to, “I know you’re working alongside us, a personal favor?”

“Something like that, is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Yoongi doesn’t notice, but there’s a pair of lingering eyes that watch him and Eunwoo moves to his office.

“What’s going on?”

“I talked with the girl's supervisor today,” Yoongi walks around the desk, looking out at the pretty sunset, “I was informed that she went missing the exact same day an article of hers was supposed to be published. This article held details from the conference that have never been revealed. The article's physical and digital copies are gone. Cha, this doesn’t seem like you’re average missing persona case, there’s something bigger going on,” he rests his hands on his hips, bottom-lip tucked between his teeth. “I don’t want to tell her family that just yet, not until I’m sure.”

“You know what,” Eunwoo makes a thoughtful expression, “you could be right. There has been speculation around this case that the abduction was planned for a while now, I think for her sake we should look into that. Thank you Min, this could really change the nature of this case and it’s probably gonna get bigger, especially if we bring the parties at the conference into question.”

Jaemin was hanging outside of the hallway but runs to the restroom when he hears footsteps approach the door. When he’s sure there’s no one else in the stalls he frantically pulls out his phone and makes a call.

“Hello?”

“The case is about to blow up, the PI is onto us and I think the organization is about to be in jeopardy.”

“Damn it,” He sighs, “what do you suggest we do?” 

“You have to tell Kim to reveal the body.”

#taehyung smut #taehyung stalker au #taehyung angst #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #bts angst #bts au #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung assassin #bts assassin au #don't breathe

[aceademic]

Chapter 2 & 2.5 of Band on The Run

Feel free to bash me intensely. Here is Chapter 2 and Chapter 2.5 (mini chapter) from the one and only liz! Enjoy!

Chapter 2

“You see that one?” Mom whispered in my ear, pointing to the far east.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“That’s where your Dad is,” she said. I turned to look at her. She had long and flowy dirty blond hair and the most intricate hazel eyes I had ever seen. There was a sort of glint in them, nostalgic and sad but also . . . wistful. The way she looked then, it made me almost believe what she was saying. Almost.

I gave a small pause. Unsure. “Is that so?” I asked eventually. Pops had told me that the doctors said that Mom developed selective amnesia because when my Dad ran off on her, it was too hard for her to deal with. So now she’s delusional with the idea that our father was a man from space that had to go back to his home planet. She never gave a reason why, her answer to that question was always, ‘He’s not gone forever. He’ll come back. He always does.’

“Yeah,” Mom whispered. “And when he does we’ll take the car out to the fields and sing Brandy at the top of our damn --”

“Geddup!”

I jolted upward and blinked, realizing it was just a dream and I was not at home, but in fact, in a spaceship. My heart sunk to the very depths of my inner ocean of self-pity as I pulled on my jacket.

“Give me a minute!” I answered. I heard rustling and saw Peter climbing out of the small bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Clean yourself up and meet me outside, okay?”

Peter nodded sleepily and I left the room, closing the door behind me. And there was standing Kraglin. He was wearing the exact same thing as yesterday and he look as fresh and awake as morning dew.

“Mornin’,” he said awkwardly.

“What’s going to be our orders?” I asked him, jumping straight to the point.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “You’ll have to find out yourself when we get to the hull.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be his second-in-command or whatever?” I asked dubiously.

“Just cause I’m his first mate don’t mean that he tells me everything,” he answered. “He’s a very private person.”

“I’m ready.”

Peter must have slithered his way to my side, because the door was now ajar, and Peter’s hair was slightly less mussy than it was before. I ruffled his hair anyways.

  I stared in amazement as we entered the hull. The walls had veins that pulsed an eerie, vivid red and the walls were a dark, shadowy grey. Chairs, consoles and neon green screens surrounded me. In the chairs were all different types of aliens talking in headsets and taping the consoles, speaking to each other in a language had never heard before. Alien technology scattered the room, and my gaze set upon the crowd of crew members standing by a window with a breathtaking view of the peace of space. They seemed to be staring, whispering and pointing at me and Peter, as if they had never seen a human before. Some frowned, some seemed curious, and some made me want to punch them repeatedly in the face – or faces, because apparently some aliens have two heads.

Kraglin led me to the back where everyone was, and kindly guided us to the back corner where we would get less weird looks. After a few more of the crew hurried in, I noticed Yondu, sitting on a big, comfy captain’s chair, staring down at us all.

“Everyone, meet your new crewmates, Avery and Peter Quill!” Yondu shouted, holding an arm out in our direction. Everyone turned to look at us. So much for being discreet.

“I thought we were giving them over --” a man started, but Yondu shushed him, very loudly might I add.

“I don’t want another word out of your mouth Horuz, or I’ll scrub it clean in the canteen,” Yondu hissed. Some of the men snickered and the other went immediately silent, looking absolutely furious. “If you don’t like how I run things around here, you can get your skinny ass up and leave, you hear?”

It seemed that either no one heard, or no one wanted to leave.

“Good.” A pause. “Gef, Yorker, I want you in the training room. You’re getting to fat for my liking. Retch, Halfnut, Scrotch, I want you on canteen duty. Oblo, Narblik, Huhtar and Tullk, I want you on hallway duty on deck 10 . . .”

The list continued, and as he called out names, people left the room to go to their assigned stations until it was just me, Peter and Kraglin.

“Kraglin, I want you to show them littles around the ship and when you’re done, I want them to go to Rof’in in the training room. He’ll know what to do.”

Kraglin nodded and led us out of the hull. “All right, let’s start with the tour. There are 10 decks in total. Right now, we’re on deck one, all the way at the bottom.”

He started show us around the first deck. We passed the brig, which was where I was kept when I was unconscious, and we went into the hold, muster station, and a small saloon. I made a mental note of what each room was and its purpose. We continually went up, going through the quarterdecks (two whole decks just for where the cabins are), the training room, the turret (which I have to admit was pretty cool), medbay, the promenade deck, the canteen, multiple saloons, the galley, the escape hatches and small bays holding random equipment and such. One oddly contained a whole assortment of mini figurines (most of which were broken).

As we made our way back to the hull, Peter’s stomach grumbled. Kraglin and I both looked at him. I had forgotten I was hungry. I had forgotten that we needed food. For the glorious bliss that was 1 hour, I had forgotten that I was kidnaped and that my head hurt and that my mother was dead and pretended that my good friend Kraglin was showing me around a spaceship. The fierce rage of fire that roared inside me returned along with a loud grumble of my stomach.

“We can stop by the canteen on our way back to the training room,” Kraglin offered. We both nodded hungrily, and I wondered what aliens ate. Probably not grilled cheese.

When we entered the canteen, it was mostly empty except for the people who were working there, cleaning dishes and mopping the floor. No one looked up. There were refrigerators nailed into the wall, full of silver packets and water bottles.

“We don’ get fresh food often, so we eat these,” Kraglin told us, opening a refrigerator door and pulling out 2 packets, turning them over to read something on the back. “Today’s Flicodian tentacles. Should have a similar taste to – what’s that meat thing you eat?”

“Chicken?” Peter asked. Kraglin shook his head.

“No, no, it started with a T.”

“Turkey?” I asked. Kraglin nodded. He walked over to some built in cabinets and pulled out two bowls, opening the packet and squeezing out what looked freeze-dried octopus tentacles. He went over to a nearby tap, and filled the bowls up, sticking them in what looked like some sort of microwave. When the timer beeped after a minute, he pulled the two bowls out, releasing a hearty aroma that did indeed smell a lot like turkey, and Peter and I found ourselves sitting at the long tables in the room, scarfing down the tentacles as if they were our last meal. Kraglin watched in amusement. I put down my fork.

“What?” I asked. He jumped in surprise, and suddenly the wall became very interesting.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. I shrugged, and continued to shove food down my throat, ad sat back happily when the last remnants of food were gone, and the bowl was empty. Back then, I didn’t notice the pink tint that haunted his cheeks.

  Chapter 2.5

Nebula kicked the punching bag. She kicked it again. Her father had given her another mission. And she wasn’t sure she would be able to complete it this time. At least she had Gamora to help. She kicked the bag again. Gamora wasn’t going to help. She would ruin her chances of ever completing it to keep up her status as most-favorable child. The star, his little-one. Nebula started to punch it repeatedly and finished it off with a roundhouse kick. It flew off its chain, and Nebula huffed, grabbing a bottle of water from the corner. She ignored the green alien with blue hair leaning against the doorway.

Nebula didn’t like the hair. This was the 5th time Gamora had attempted dying it and now it was a dark, ocean blue. It didn’t suit her.

“I know your upset with me,” Gamora said. She entered the room, her arms folded across her chest. Nebula gave another little huff, but other than that she screwed the bottle cap onto her bottle without a glance and went to pick up the punching bag.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Gamora said, her voice tense. Nebula turned to look at her with furious eyes.

“There is always a choice,” Nebula hissed. A ray of sunlight hit Nebula, and the silver prosthesis on her head glistened, causing Gamora to look away. “You had a choice not to fight me. To stand up to our fath – to him.”

She corrected herself. It was still hard for her to call him her father, the man who had slaughtered her family, her brother, her entire home planet. He who called her weak and worthless and forced her into impossible missions that almost always caused her to have to team up with Gamora, that back-stabbing wench of a sister. He who ripped out her eye for simply not besting her sister in a fight.

“You know that’s not how it works,” Gamora mumbled, grabbing her arm subconsciously. Nebula broke eye contact, grabbing the punching bag and attaching a new clip onto it, attaching it back to the screw in the ceiling.

“Did you need anything else, sis?” Nebula added a sneer on the last word, making Gamora’s stomach wretch horribly, her brows furrow and her heart twist.

“No.”

It was a lie.

#submission

[365days365movies]

March 14, 2021: The Holy Mountain (Review)

Ow. Ow. Owwwwwww. My goddamn MIND.

This movie is...OK, I know I use the term “a lot” a lot, but...it has a new meaning now. Because The Holy Mountain really is a LOT, in a whole new and terrifying way. I’ll be honest here, I don’t even know HOW exactly to review this movie, but I’ll definitely goddamn try.

I remember saying that I wasn’t sure I was qualified enough to judge Orpheus, but this is entirely different. I KNOW that I’m not qualified enough to criticize this movie. Oh, but everybody has the ability to judge films in their own way, because movies are for everyone, right?

BULLSHIT THIS MOVIE IS FOR DOLPHINS ON ACID

OK, OK, this movie really was meant for anyone, I know. But...goddamn, man. It’s definitely changed the way I view film as an art form. And I home you’re ready for June, because THIS is just a goddamn PREVIEW for that. Oof. FUCKIN’ OOF.

Let’s get this review over with. Recap, for what it is, is here and here, knock yourself out.

Review

Cast and Acting: 7/10

Real talk, the acting here is fine...but not great. Like, for the absolute fever dream that this movie is, I don’t really have any complaints, but it’s still awkward at times. In truth, I’ve only got one real standout here: Alejandro Jodorowsky. Yeah, the director managed to be the standout actor for me as well. This was definitely a personal project for him, so his direct involvement definitely makes sense. Hell, that comes into play even more with the ending, and it WORKS. Jodorowsky’s Alchemist definitely pulls off the role, even if the whole movie, acting-wise, is...stiltedly awkward. This one’s hard to truly judge.

Plot and Writing: 9/10

This film is crazy...and also makes sense? I KNOW, I’M SCARED TOO. But, yeah, the plot to this movie is...strangely straightforward. Seriously, outside of the various oblique symbolism, this is a film about true enlightenment, and the quest for true immortality. And, when you really think about it, this film is also fifty, and we’ll ALWAYS be talking about in in film studies. It’s a movie that’s managed to achieve immortality, which was the entire point of the main cast of the film. It’s...amazing? It was written by, surprise surprise, Alejandro Jodorowsky. Which means that AJ was the director, writer, major actor, and producer of this movie...making this the Bizarroworld version of The Room by Tommy Wiseau. Which...YEAH, FUCKING ACCURATE, LEMME TELL YOU. The fact that a film this abstract and oblique actually makes some perverse kind of sense is...admirable. And for a movie that’s 2.5 hours long, it really doesn’t feel like it. Well-paced, plotted, and written. And hell, probably not that hard to interpret in some instances. In...some instances. Credit where credit’s due.

Direction and Cinematography: 10/10

Yeah, it’s beautiful. Director is, of course, Alejandro Jodorowsky, but the cinematography was done by somebody else, Rafael Corkidi. He’s a Mexican director and cinematographer who did a lot of work with Jodorowsky, before breaking out on his own and becoming fairly successful in his own right. Yeah, he was pretty amazing, not gonna lie. And of course, Jodorowsky was perfect here. This film was his vision, his baby, and you better goddamn believe he directed the HELL out of it. Push back camera.

Production and Art Design: 10/10

Um...yeah. Duh. It’s amazing. The GIF above, by itself, looks amazing, and you can’t even see all the intricate details throughout it. Art design here is ridiculous, and EXTREMELY good, and exerts itself powerfully through the production design as well. And, this category comes with two fun facts!

The Producers: So, other than Jodorowsky himself, this film was produced by ABKCO Music and Records’ Allen Klein, after being asked to do so by JOHN LENNON AND GEORGE HARRISON of the Beatles, WHOM HE MANAGED. YEAH. THIS MOVIE IS LITERALLY BOUGHT BY MONEY SUPPLIED FROM LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS. WHAT IN THE FUCK. Apparently, Harrison and Lennon were huge fans of Jodorowsky’s previous film, El Topo, and convinced Klein to fund this film as well. In fact, John Lennon and his wife, Yoko Ono, actually put up money for the production of this film! What the hell, right? That’s somehow the craziest, yet most fitting thing I’ve heard about this movie. Well, that and...

The Budget: OK, I did the math. I think. It was a little tricky, navigating around production costs and rates of inflation for both countries, but I’m pretty sure I got it. See, this film cost $750,000 USD, right? If the film was to be made today, accounting for inflation, that would be (in Mexico), $91,050,589 MXD. Average budget for a Mexican film today? According to The New York Times, about $1.5 million. YEAH. THIS FILM WAS EXPENSIVE AS FUUUUUUUUUCK TO MAKE. And the crazy thing is...they slashed the costs IN HALF. The originally were planning on spending double that amount, and somehow managed to cut it in half. Goddamn. Well, it was worth the money, at least.

Music and Editing: 9/10

Music is basically perfect, and was composed by Don Cherry, Ronald Frangipane, and, OF COURSE, Alejandro Jodorowsky. Eat your heart out, Tommy Wiseau. And said music is, again, fantastic. It’s crazy, but it is good. Editing is...a little sketchy, at times. It was done by Federico Landeros and, SAY IT WITH ME NOW, Alejandro Jodorowsky. I am impressed; dude wears many weird rounded-cone-shaped hats. But yeah, editing was pretty good, with some dodgy effects work here and there.

90%. And I’m not sure I understand myself at this point.

Despite the absolute no sense that this movie made at a cursory glance...I can’t even begin to call this movie anything but great. It’s a great movie. It makes no goddamn sense (WHY THE FUCKING OCELOTS), but that doesn’t make it bad by any means AT ALL. I mean it, because this is, by all accounts, an amazing film that’s also amazingly weird. But in terms of recommending it...watch it with friends. It’s easier to watch with friends, and probably more fun that way. I watched it with the GF, and we had a good time. A crazy time, but a good one nonetheless.

And now that that’s finished...I need a break. Is there anything I could watch that’s...I dunno, familiar? Something I can really sink my teeth into? Something comparatively far simpler, that won’t make me feel like the movie’s trying to talk to me, a metaphorical rock?

March 15, 2021: Clash of the Titans (1981)

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[arizonamansions-blog]

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[kerwritesthings]

California Calling

Summary: It’s just what you do when you love someone

Word Count: 2,340

Warnings: fluff, a teeny tiny blip of heart hurt, but then more fluff

Author Note: Another one of those hitting me out of nowhere pieces. Maybe it’s all the pretty from this past week/weekend? Maybe? I really don’t know. I opened a word doc and next thing I knew I had 500 words, then it somehow made its way up to this 2.3k we’re sitting at now. And in like 2.5 hours? I don’t question the muse anymore. 

All I know is this little world will not let me go. I think I’m ok with that. I’ve already got two additional pieces rough sketched in my head. One that falls between part two (Warmth of the Morning) and this that is definitely a little naughtier, the other happening after this one. First part can be read here, second part here.

After that weekend together, after that afternoon when you spent more time tangled up in each other and the sheets than you expected, you made up your mind to push your flight up. Literally, the moment he was out the door to catch his flight you had your phone in hand looking at options. You want a bit more time with him, the time you had as lovely as it was, just wasn’t enough. You have the PTO at work, and if you need to pull a couple late nights and a Saturday in to do it, so be it. He is worth it.

The two of you talk, and you knew after your time in LA, it wasn’t going to be nearly as bad as the last few months had been. You have a few dates blocked out in both your calendars already that were meant for the two of you, and the two of you only - even with him not knowing exactly what his schedule was looking like.

“Don’t care,” he says, dusting a kiss to your temple as you sit on the couch next to each other, calendar and notes apps open. “I’ll schedule around it. This is important, you’re important.”

The thought of that making you smile as you start to make your plans to pull off a surprise of your own. Knowing you wouldn’t be able to pull this off alone, you think quickly of who the best cohort in your new scheme of plans would be and more so who was out in LA that could be trusted with a secret.  

Thinking about coming in early, wanna help me surprise him C? You’re the one who can make shit happen for him and not give away anything! you shoot off in a quick text before digging back into flights on phone while balancing and cross referencing your massive work planner across your knees. Finding a direct flight was harder than you thought, but if you push up a self-imposed deadline, you’d be able get out first thing Wednesday morning instead of the original late-night flight Friday. Plus, you’d still have the whole week after as originally planned.  

Good weekend then? :) Only if I get to deliver you from the airport and see Shawn fall ass over teakettle in person when you get in early. He’s been good, but you can tell how much he misses home. And you. I’m in, so just tell me what I need to do and when. Nothing’s crazy the week leading into the show just writing and studio time, so we can make things work. Will be good to see you, been too long!

You smile, grateful that his work family has in turn become an extension of yours.

Thanks – looking at flights now and seeing what I can do with the office. Stay tuned and will text you everything shortly. You’re a good man.

After a bit of maneuvering on your side with a promise to your boss, who is a saint and adores your boyfriend, that you’d be available via phone or text and only in the dire case of any blow ups those few extra days all the things began to fall into place. Now, to keep this close to the chest and not give anything away.

The night before you’re due to leave, you almost slip.

“You’re avoiding me,” he whines through the speaker of your phone. “Don’t pick up my FaceTime, ignore my first call, leave my texts on read. I see how it is.”

You know he’s joking, but you also can hear the slight tinge of disappointment backing his voice. It’s been a bit of a chase the last few days. Quick calls, most of which miss each other, texts on the fly and no FaceTime.

“I’m sorry baby. I’m trying to get all this work done before I leave,” you say, throwing some of your last-minute purchases into the open suitcase on your bed, including another little surprise for him. “No distractions while I’m out there. Just you, me and that LA sunshine.”

“I know, and I don’t mean to sound petulant. I’m sorry,” he sighs and takes a breath. “We haven’t had a ships passing in the night beat like this since the thick of the last tour block. I’m feeling stuck on things in the studio though everyone says it’s solid and, shit I just miss you honey.”

You plop on the edge of the bed, running a hand over your face. It hurts your heart hearing him this way, but you know all this is for a reason. You cannot tell him; it’s going to be all worth it tomorrow morning when he walks into the studio to you. “I’m going to finish this last thing and then pull together a playlist for you. Some stuff I’ve been noodling on, some old favorites, couple off that sleepy playlist of mine you swear up and down you don’t like, but I know you listen to. I’ll listen to it too, so it’ll feel like we’re together cuddled down listening to it. We’re almost there. Couple more days and nights, then I’m there.”

“I love you,” he says easily, full of affection. You could hear the vestiges of whatever was eating at him starting to slip away. You say your goodnights and you were both off. The playlist wasn’t something you planned on, but it shouldn’t take you too long to pull together. Plus, you could sleep in the car on the way to the airport and on the plane. Making him feel better, feel loved – the loss of a little sleep was nothing compared to that.

Landing in Los Angeles is always something that brings a special feeling, it’s a strange mix of trepidation and excitement. Luckily there was no issues with the flight, so you land on time and can make it through the gates towards baggage claim fairly unscathed. As you made your way down the escalator, there in sunglasses and a hat to blend in with the other drivers awaiting passengers, with your name on a sign and a Starbucks in hand, is your partner in crime.

“You didn’t need to come in,” you say chuckling before wrapping him in a hug.

“Your boy would box my ears if I did a drive by pick up and you know that,” he quips, kissing your cheek before trading your bag for the Starbucks cup in his hand. “Come on, let’s get your other bag and get up to the studio. He thinks they’re swapping out some equipment so that’s why they have to have a later start.”

“Genius call, and he’d only believe that from you. He’s got no clue, does he?” you ask with a Cheshire cat grin as the carousel starts to spin.

Making your way through the masses and to the garage wasn’t too much of a time suck, you were still on target. It was LA so there was going to be traffic no matter what, but landing as early as you did was a at least a little helpful since you were heading straight across town and then some since the boys made the new place by the beach home base for this go.

“Should I be worried that you’re quiet? Normally you’re talking my ear off by now if we haven’t seen each other in this long,” he asks, the care tinging through his tone as he makes his way up onto the PCH.

You shake your head, “No, no not at all Cez, sorry. Late night last night, late nights all last week to make this happen. All worth it though when I see his face.”

He reaches over,  squeezing the hand resting on the cup between you. “I’m glad you have each other and love each other the way you do. I always worried he’d not find his person, so wrapped up in the work and so focused. I remember the day after he met you the first time. He had a different smile that morning. I knew right away, even when he probably didn’t. You were something special for him, to him. You understand and respect this crazy bullshit we’re in, which takes a whole other level of care and person to get. Helps you’re a bad ass in your own right. I’m just happy he’s happy, and that you’re happy. That you’re happy together like this? Best thing.”

“Damnit don’t make me cry what little makeup I have on all off,” you sniff out. “I love him. It’s just that simple. It’s not easy, god you know that. But I would rather deal with all this than not have him and love him. Why you do the crazy shit like this.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you’re heading off the highway and winding your way through the still quiet streets. Finally, you pull up to a set of dark gates, well hidden with greenery.

“They basically took a pre-development boom location, this old 50’s old beach house with its massive garage and converted it. It’s a pretty solid setup, off the beaten path and not well known, but it’s state of the art. I can see this becoming a regular thing with the ‘shed. Plus, it’s a quick wander down to the water from here,” he explains as the gates pull back and you head through.

Your phone pings as you pull to a stop and open the car door.

Finished at the gym and off to the studio. Nothing cray so just call when you can today, love you xo <3

“Perfect timing, he’s on his way up. Have I said thank you yet Cez? Because…” you start before being wrapped up in another hug.

“You’re family, don’t even,” he says, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll go stash your bags, just head through to the studio. Door is around that cluster of birch trees. I’m also on good knowledge that big leather couch is good to curl up on for a nap. I’ll make sure to head in with him. I don’t think the rest of the guys are due in until a little after him, he wanted to work a run by himself first.”

You make your way into the studio space and it’s better than described, or from the photos Shawn has sent along. It’s so easy to see why this will fall into a place where he feels comfortable and creative. Warm wood, windows, well-worn rugs and the infamous camel colored couch. It’s easy to sink into the cool leather and down into the cushions, sliding into a dozy twilighty state – not quite sleeping but not quite awake.

You hear voices, which bring you more towards full consciousness, but you stay cozied into the couch.

“I want to get this one track done before everyone decides to come in and have opinions, thought of something last night and I just want to have it down first,” your boyfriend prattles on as you hear him push open the door, dropping what’s probably his backpack and guitar case onto the floor. “Though I think I need to hash the last of the lyrics out first, maybe. I’ve got time though.”

You see his feet first, then his legs, realizing he’s not paying attention to the couch at all or realizing that you’re there. He’s just standing there, chatting. Not a care to what’s actually behind him or a second thought to the couch whatsoever. You look past his legs, seeing the smile creeping up over Cez’s face as he realizes that Shawn still has no clue what’s awaiting him.

“You may want to kiss your girlfriend hello first though before all of that,” you try to say as seriously as possible, but break out into giggles at the end. “Surprise baby!”

He turns on his heels so quickly that he’s tangled up in himself and in a heap on the floor next to the couch, laughter peeling out from all of you in the room.

“Now that. That was totally worth it. Hope you like your gift, Shawn. Gonna leave you two alone for a bit,” Cez says with a nod before backing out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Shawn is just shaking his head, pulling himself to sit upright, before bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“You, you’re, I just. You,” he murmurs, thumbs brushing ever so carefully across your cheekbones.

“It was my turn, so. I figured go big or go home right? I figured we could use a couple extra days together before everything this weekend. It’s going to be a lot. We know that. And I knew I’d be missing you at this point. I changed my flight literally before you boarded yours back here. I still have all next week too. This is added bonus,” you reply. “I was packing when you called last night, it’s why I couldn’t hop on FaceTime. I didn’t want to give anything away. I was so close to telling you, but I knew I’d see you today. Hearing you last night though, I knew I made the right call to come out here early.”

He just looks at you so softly, so intently. Not saying anything, but still keeping his eyes on you he moves his right hand to slide into your hair, cupping your head and bringing you closer to him until you are nose to nose. Nuzzling against you ever so slightly, nose sliding against yours like a whisper, his eyes slip closed and he exhales. “I am so lucky that you love me, that you made the decision that I’m worthy of your love,” he sighs out, lips just a hair from yours. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this and you, but I’m so damn grateful. I love you, so much.”

He presses in, kissing the breath straight out of you.

Yep. It was absolutely worth it.

TAG LIST: @loveat2am, @sinplisticshawn, @hollandraul​, @whenidance​

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes story

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jason Voorhees x Reader || Oneshot

Title: I Wouldn't Fit In That World Anymore. I Want This One

Notes: 

·         This is post FVSJ and also links to the comic where Bubba and Jason meet ^^

·         I just really wanted some Jason hugs today!! 

Plot: Lots and lots of Jason fluff. A liiitle angst concerning a ‘normal life’, but the reader wants Jason. So really it just makes way for more fluff! 

Warnings: None that I can think of

~~~

 “So, um… Jason?” Okay, enough of this. I can’t just sit here and weave a basket with Jason sitting right across from me, and not say it anymore. It’s a skill, to be able to guilt trip someone without even knowing it, without even the ability to speak, but Jason has it. He looks up from his carving, which is starting to look a bit like a fish now. I look back down at my basket-in-progress and run a hand over the prickly, smooth strands. We like creative, hands-on activities, we do. “So, um… “Ah, repetition. Intelligent. “The other day… well, you know how I told you a guy was annoying me lately? Talking to me a lot at work and trying to tag along with me to work outings and shopping trips I told him about?”

Of course, he remembers and makes a nodding movement, focused on me. I look back down at the basket again. “Well, he uh… I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before, he always sits way too close to me but I just figured he had personal space issues, you know? Like Bubba. But.” I take a deep breath in through my nose, slowly. Raising my shoulders high and look disapprovingly at my basket. “It turns out he liked me… as, more then a friend. You know.” Like how you feel about me. But, of course I don’t need to say that. He’s intelligent, he knows. You can tell by the way he stills even more then he already was, with his not-breathing and all. He doesn’t freak out or anything though, doesn’t move to get up and pick up his machete, or clench his fists. He waits for more information from me, and I’m thankful for it. “And he asked me out.”

I peak up at him to see his reaction, hoping to not catch his gaze because then I know I’ll panic and start talking nonsense and in this situation, which is telling a killer that loves you that someone else tried something with you, would be a huge mistake. With Jason, its much better to be clear and simple. And repetitive. “I said no. I didn’t want to be with him, because he’s nothing like you and I love you. Not that anyone, even a carbon copy could beat you out, at all. But… I said no. I didn’t have any interest. I love you. I just thought you might want to know, cuz we’re in a… a mature, relationship and all.”

His stiffness goes away after a few more agonising moments of silence, and staring-into-eyes and he turns back to his carving. After brushing away some dust with his thumb, he looks back up at me and nods, lifting the awkwardness from the air, but not from my heart. I still have more to say… but I’m still debating saying it. For a few more minutes, maybe an hour, we go back to what we were doing. Him creating, me methodically weaving the straw and planning out what I would say, if I said it.

As he gets up, having finished his fish and put in the ground between us so he can stare at it for a little longer, deciding if it needed anymore touches or maybe imagining it being a real fish, or maybe thinking something completely separate from sea life because who knows what goes through Jason Voorhees’ mind, I move and nearly call him back to say what I was planning. I even let go of the basket and reach for his hand, but I stop myself a millisecond later and jolt back to an awkward position holding the finished handle of my creation. My heart beating fast and hard in my chest.

I want to be honest with him… and I do trust him. I trust him with my life, and my random thoughts, and so much more… But above all I trust his loyalty… that often times is in the middle of a Venn diagram of loyalty and possession. I know, if I tell him this last part that’s been on my mind, there is a good 70 percent chance that he’ll take it the wrong way and do something rash, like when he went to Manhatten. He’s capable of anything, really, and that is what I’m afraid of.

Or… well, that’s 50 percent of what I’m logically worried about. The other half of me is more concerned with his feelings. It would kill me to hurt them. Jason’s like a huge puppy and telling him this might be like kicking this giant puppy.

Deciding to wait and think on it for a little bit more, at least until my heart stops beating so fast that my fingers shake and my skin goes pale, Jason safely makes it to the kindling and starts cutting it up for the fire later tonight.

When its about 7, and the fire is lit and bright in the front yard-or… what I call the front yard. Really, it’s the clearing in front of his cabin, - and finally push myself towards him to say it. I leave the cabin and find him on the porch, watching the flames. They dance in his eyes, and I interrupt his thoughts by sitting comfortably, sideways in his lap and leaning my head onto his shoulder. Immediately he looks down, assesses the situation silently and moves his arms to make me more comfortable. I sigh. “So, you remember what I told you earlier?”

I feel him nod, above me. But instead of looking at each other, we look at the fire. Its so hot that even from here I can feel it, and its so bright that the orange light touches our forms. “There was more that I wanted to tell you. Because… well, I like to tell you things. And because you deserve to know.” I turn to wrap my arms securely around him and press my face into his jacket, probably alerting him to the fact that this new thing might be bad but I don’t care. I definitely don’t look up when I feel him look down at the top of my head. “I thought about saying yes.” I whisper. “For a moment, I pictured a life with him. Or, really, any normal guy with a… a nine to five job and a tie who wants 2.5 kids and a picket fence.” He’s so nice to cuddle. So round and strong and cuddly. It makes this easier to push out. “How I could… I could say yes, and still get what I thought I would get all my life before meeting you. A normal family, with people like me. To raise a baby the way I always said I would, not like my parents. And for a second it… it was exciting. I even half wanted it.”

He goes stiff again, and I nearly panic again. I want to tell him immediately that I’m kidding, its all a joke! I would never want anything apart from this life here with you, I’m sorry!! But again, I know panicking would be a bad idea. And I’m past blabbering in the face of danger, at this point. Being in love with a monster.

“But then the moment passed over me, Jason.” Its nice to say his name. Makes everything feel right. Puts it all in perspective. This is Jason. He’s the reason I transformed my life into this, and I wouldn’t take back that decision for anything. He is everything. “Second of all, I realised: I met freaking Leatherface, and he’s the most adorable pseudo-cousin-in-law a girl could ask for. I fought Freddy Fucking Krueger. I’m in love with you so much I’m beyond repair. I wouldn’t fit in that dream life anymore. In no universe would it be enough next to this.” I’ve met the darkness, and I could never go back. It’s weird, I’ve never been more comfortable anywhere. “But the first thought that came to me, stopping me in my tracks was you, of course. What else, honestly.” I tighten my grip on him, and feel his big hand slowly touch my back, nearly the width of my back. “I couldn’t live without you.”

“I never understood what people meant when they described their partners as their worlds before but during this moment, I figured it out. I realised that that is how I was feeling about you. I didn’t even know it. But you are, you’re my world. And that is as complicated and as simple as that.”

He doesn’t utilise a moment this time, and just hugs me to his body, enwrapping me in his arms and his chest entirely and leaning forward so his knocks against my head gently. I take this as a ‘I feel the same’, and giggle, enjoying our cuddle.

“Oh, sweetheart. I made a whole little speech there. I serenaded you, do you feel overwhelmed??” I slightly tease, but my grip back on him is too tight I’m sure, for him to take me seriously. He still sighs heavily into my shoulder though, making me giggle.

I give him a little kiss of the closest bit of skin available to me, the side of his head and secure my arms around him again, settling into this, smiling. I guess we’re making a night of it now. 

#Jason Voorhees #Jason Voorhees x Reader #Oneshot #I Wouldn't Fit In That World Anymore. I Want This One #Bubba Sawyer #Freddy Krueger