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#also no i don’t Actually know if she’s wearing earrings in the scene
perfumejamal · 3 months
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friendly competition (m.l + h.l)
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pairing: bf!mark lee x f!reader x haechan, (a bit of mark x haechan )
genre: smut w barely any plot !
warnings: slight mxm and mxf, blowjobs, spitting, gagging, oral, creampie, threesomes, haechan is dirtyyy, can this count as cheating? idk, i didn’t mention protection BUT stay safe y’all, mark is the bf and haechan is his bsf
a/n: hi yall… this was originally written as an aot fanfic but i rewrote it to be a mark and haechan fic instead! this is based off an audio i’ve heard, you can listen go it here(wear headphones)! hope you guys enjoy!!
+ special tag: @isseoisseo
your boyfriend was the cutest guy ever. you met him at a random party your friend had dragged you to. usually you didn’t go further than maybe a hook up, but mark was different. he was a sweetheart, and you couldn’t let such a good guy get away.
after being together for a few weeks, you realized just how close he was to his best friend and roommate, haechan. it didn’t bother you, but sometimes it’d make you feel awkward. there’d be times when you were trying to be alone with him, but somehow haechan would always be there. you thought of talking to mark about it, but went against it. instead you started bringing your best friend along as well, to lessen the awkwardness.
this weekend however, was different. she was on her way to a family gathering, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. so here you are in your boyfriend’s apartment, with his boyfriend.
the three of you sat in the dimly lit room, illuminated by the flat screen television in their spacious living room. you snuggled up close to each other on one end, while haechan sat on the other end. you guys were watching a random movie on netflix, girls trip.
you had never watched it but it was very entertaining. the three of you had your eyes glued to the screen. you looked over at haechan who occasionally glanced towards you and mark.
you quickly looked back at the large screen when they started talking about blowjobs. one of the girls in the movie started performing a blowjob on a banana using a grapefruit.
you weren’t shy to sex scenes in movies or shows, but this one made you blush slightly. you knew it made mark feel some type of way as well since he kept shifting in his spot.
you smirked at him, “don’t you think i give the best blowjobs?” you whispered to him forgetting haechan was also next to you guys. mark nods immediately, his cheeks turning red. as you continued teasing him haechan started giggling.
you roll your eyes, “what’s so funny, haechan?” you weren’t actually mad, but you were confused as to what he was laughing about.
“oh nothing,” he chuckles.
“you think it’s funny that i give the best blowjobs?” you ask looking over to him.
“i do think it’s funny,” he starts. “well, i think it’s funny because i’m very, very confident in my oral sex skills.” you roll your eyes again. “not just on women,” he adds making your boyfriend’s ears perk up in anticipation.
“i’m more skilled than you,” you flash him your sweet smile.
“is that right?” haechan asks, a smile plastered across his face. he turned to mark, who was red and in shock at your argument. “does she?” he asks. “does she give the best blowjobs?” he asks once more, making sure to specify what his question was.
haechan continues to laugh, knowing that mark will say yes… if he’s smart. mark let out a low whisper of an answer, “yes she does,”
“see i win,” you stick up your middle finger to haechan earning an amused look from him.
“hm, i don’t know. i bet i can give a better blowjob than you,” he started again. “i just get the feeling,” he laughs. “i’m sure you’re good, i just know i can do better. how about we test it out?”
you give him a questioning look, “what are you trying to say?”
“i mean, your boyfriend knows how you suck him off. how about we let him judge, let me suck him off,” haechan says without budging and your jaw drops. he wants to suck mark’s dick?
you never thought about haechan wanting to do that to your boyfriend, but maybe that’s why he’s so close to him? or maybe he’s just very competitive… like you.
mark is very intrigued seeing this scene playing out in front of him. “oh you’re so on, lee.” you shifted your attention over to mark, “is this okay with you babe?”
marks burries his face into his hands in embarrassment. “y-yes,”
haechan gets up from his side of the couch, quickly scurrying towards mark. dropping down to his knees stopping right in front of his lap.
“be ready to lose, y/n.” haechan says with a smirk on his face, soft hair held back in a messy bun.
you scoff, “yeah sure,” kneeling next to haechan giving him enough space to get to work.
haechan chuckles again before pulling at the hem of your boyfriend’s sweatpants. your boyfriend’s dick seemed to already be hardening, i mean how could it not with such a beautiful sight. his best friend and girlfriend kneeling between his legs, competing to see who could do him better.
mark’s dick sprung up hitting his abdomen and he let out a sweet moan. haechan placed his pretty hands around it, “i knew you had a pretty dick, but damn is this a hot sight.” he said, making your boyfriend whimper. precum leaking from his rosy tip, seeing this just made you even more turned on than before.
haechan put his mouth around the tip, swirling his tongue around it. “fuck,” mark let out a dragged out moan. the whimpers your boyfriend kept letting out just worked haechan up even more, causing him to take him into his mouth whole, inch by inch.
your fingers traveled down between your legs, sneaking into your pajama shorts. your boyfriend’s moans always drive you to the edge.
haechan noticed and moaned into mark’s dick, the vibrations making him go crazy. haechan kept bobbing his head up and down mark’s length, spreading all his saliva on it making a mess. he let mark’s tip rest on the back of his throat. he used his hand to fondle with his balls, making mark’s head throw back and eyes roll.
haechan slipped mark’s cock out of his mouth and used his hands to continue with the pleasure. “i hope you’re taking notes, y/n,” he said as he continued to stroke mark but was making eye contact with you.
you were opening your mouth to reply with a rebuttal, but your body betrayed you and you let out a loud moan. “fuck, shut up, haechan.”
he smiled to you before turning back to put his mouth around mark’s pretty cock, gagging to add to the pleasure. he knew mark was about to come undone, like never before. “you gonna come for me, mark?” he asks batting his eyelashes up at mark.
“mhm, fuck, fuck, haechan you’re doing me so fu-fucking good, shit,” haechan smiled at the praise coming from his best friend’s mouth.
“i want that fucking come down my throat,” haechan said as he stroked his dick faster, before lowering his head once again. he keep moaning mhm’s down mark’s dick. “i can feel you getting close,”
“you like that? like when i suck your dick and play with your balls?” mark cried out broken moan as haechan fiddled with his sensitive balls, “f-fuck haechan, fuck!” mark thrusted his dick into haechan’s mouth, making him gag around it. he came, mark came hard. his moans were echoing around the who apartment. his thrusts slowed down as he spilled into haechan’s mouth.
haechan took every single last drop into his mouth, moaned as he stroked for every last bit of it. swallowing it with a smile on his face, sticking out his tongue to show he rid of it all.
haechan chuckled as he looked at both of you, mark’s head thrown aback with a fucked out look, and you sat there surprised at his skills. “what’s the matter y/n? cat got your tongue?”
“i’ve never seen mark like this after my blowjobs,” you looked at mark then haechan when you said this. noticing that his shorts has wet patches and his dick imprinting against the soft fabric. “hae, you got hard?”
mark chuckled from the couch still mind blown at what just happened. “how could i not be? this shit was hot.”
your face flushed, and crawled over to eren. your hands playing with his waistband. “hae, lemme test out my skills on you, yeah?” you asked looking up to meet his eyes. he nodded nervously eyes looking up at mark then down to your own.
you got into all fours, lowering your head to his lap taking off his shorts and underwear. leaving him only with a white t-shirt, that exposed his soft muscles.
your hands worked their way around his hard cock, spitting on it, mixing his precum with it to make it easier for your hands to work around it. he was giving you filthy looks as a moan escapes his pretty mouth.
mark got up from the couch and walked behind you. lowering down to your ass which was in the air, moving side to side as you bobbed your head along haechan’s length.
mark’s veiny hands worked around your ass, delivering a sharp smack on your cheek making you choke on haechan’s dick. mark chuckled at your reaction as his hands moved between your legs, using the slick of your folds to rub up against you.
you were moaning against haechan’s making his hands travel to your cheek, wiping the tears falling from your watery eyes. “fuck, y/n, if you keep making that face,” haechan started. “you gonna make me fuck your pretty face,”
mark looked over to haechan as his fingers entered your tight cunt, “i think she want you to, haechan, her pussy is tightening around me.”
haechan chuckled, “y/n is that true? you want me to fuck your pretty face, huh?” you nodded your head eagerly, and haechan wasted no time to start thrusting into your face roughly.
“fuck, y/n,” mark and haechan both let out loud moans. mark slid his dick into your pussy, you swallowed him whole.
mark’s hands held onto your hips and he bucked his own into yours. “shit, i’m close y/n,” haechan moaned his voice breaking out from the immense pleasure. not only because of your mouth, but the fact that your boyfriend is fucking you while you’re sucking him off is making lightheaded.
a few more thrusts from haechan and he was spilling into your mouth, his cum dripping out the sides of your mouth and your eyes watering. “swallow it all, y/n.” mark said and haechan slowly slid his dick from your mouth and you complied, swallowing it all.
haechan stroked your cheeks telling you to open your mouth and show him, and you stuck out your tongue showing you did as mark told. “fuck, good girl.”
mark sat back down on the floor, pulling you to sit on top of him. now you’re riding him, while haechan watches it. this sight making him almost come undone again. haechan hands sneaked down to your clit and started rubbing circles to make you cum. his lips met yours and he placed a sloppy kiss on your numb lips. this made your boyfriend come and he spilled into your tight cunt, moaning loudly as he did so.
haechan pulled away from you, a trail of saliva following as his mouth headed to mark’s. he placed a sloppy kiss on mark as you threw you head back, feeling haechan’s cock growing inside of you as his cum felt warm against your insides.
“wanna fuck her? fuck my cum back into her,” mark said the last part as a demand, not a question. you whimpered at the thought and haechan pulled you towards him. laying you on your back.
the cum was starting to ooze out your pussy, making both boys hard again. fuck, this was gonna be a long night.
mark’s eyes were lost in lust, they sparkled as he saw his best friend’s dick enter your cunt. amazed as to how quick you swallow him whole. you were a blabbering mess, “a-ah please, h-hae! youre f-fucking me so…”
haechan’s thrusts were sloppy and fast. like he was in heat. he fucked you like his life depended on it, and mark’s attack to your sensitive clit didn’t make it any easier. “youre so fucking good, taking him like a slut,” mark chuckled.
he walked behind haechan and wrapped his arms around him. making you moan out as your boyfriend grabbed his jaw, turning haechan’s face to meet his own and making out with him.
haechan’s thrusts continued, sloppy and fast making your head spin. mark’s hands worked down haechan’s abs and stopped at your clit once again, going in circles. “a-h mar-rk, haechan fuck!” you cried out as they continued to make out.
haechan spilled into your pussy, his cum getting fucked into your cunt along with mark’s. his dick slid out and he moaned as the cum started oozing out.
mark’s face met your dripping cunt, “i wanna taste you on her haechan,” his tongue licked along your core and cried out at the change in temperature. he licked your pussy clean of haechan’s cum. haechan lowered down next to him they both licked at your core like they were thirsty.
“pl-please, ‘s too much!” you cried and they laughed. you felt like you’re gonna explode any time now.
once they finished cleaning you up they got up from they previous position. mark placed a kiss on your swollen lips, “you were great for us baby,” and you nodded as your eyes were closing from your tired, fucked out state.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 9 months
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Pairing : Idol!Kim Seungmin x F!Reader TW : assumed cheating ; general angst ; fluff at the end ; Word Count : 5.1k Request : pls pls pls angst/fluff w seungmin 🙏🏼
5… “She’s coming down the hallway right now…” 4… “I don’t think they look good together either…” 3… “Can’t believe he actually invited her to the show tonight looking like that…” 2… “He could do so much better…” 1… “Do it now.” …
You turned the corner to go into the dressing room where he was and there she was, sitting on his lap, his hands on her hips, and neither of them looked particularly uncomfortable… It almost seemed like she had been sitting there for a solid few minutes before you had even walked in. You didn’t like the sight of it, but you also couldn’t seem to look away from it either. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, the sudden weight making you nauseous. 
You were never the kind to make a scene, you weren’t vocal about anything that upset you, and maybe that’s why your life always seemed to go to shit once things finally went well. That’s why you quickly turned away, your head hung low as you moved in the same direction you had just come from. “Hey… You alright?” Jeongin asked as you ran right into him, but you didn’t even care to respond, side stepping out of his way and walking faster until you were out of the building. 
The makeup artist was always so… touchy… And Seungmin honestly hated it. He hated having to get his makeup and his hair down, he hated the way she’d look at him way too long. It was part of the job though, and he knew that in order to do what he loved to do, he had to endure it, and that’s the only reason he didn’t bring it up to Chan or any of the staff members. 
At least you were coming tonight, that thought alone had him dealing with all the annoying shit that came along with having to go on stage. You had finally been able to get off work to come to one of his shows, and this one was a pretty big deal, it was the third comeback show, sadly you couldn’t make it to the first two, but he told you that making it to even one was good enough for him. Having you in the crowd was important though, he wanted to look good for you, he wanted to do good for you. 
“Your skin is always so clear, you make my job so easy.” The stylist said, her hands running over his cheeks as she looked at him. It was honestly so annoying, but he forced a smile as he looked past her, staring at himself in the mirror. “If it’s so easy, then why do you take so long?” He muttered, and while he didn’t exactly want to sound rude, he was hoping that maybe she’d get the hint and stop touching him and just do her job. 
He absolutely hated when other people touched him, it felt wrong, especially when it was another woman, and the only reason he even allowed this to be done was because it was for work and you, being the amazing, understanding woman that you are, had told him that it was okay since it was job related. 
“Really?” She was talking on her phone, and he tried not to let the loudness get to him, instead closing his eyes and leaning his head back in his chair to just let her do what she had to do so he could get the hell out of there. “I just don’t know how anyone would think they look good together. They’re like… complete opposites.” Was she always this much of a bitch or was he just really intune to her bitchiness today? It seemed like the more he tried to ignore it, the louder she got though. “What’s she wearing tonight? I bet she looks like shit. She doesn’t deserve to even be seen with someone like him.” 
The one thing he hated more than people touching him though… People who thought that they were better than everyone else. He knew that he could be somewhat of an ass sometimes, but hearing the way she was talking about whoever this poor girl was… It made him feel guilty for even being in ear shot of this conversation. He was sure that whoever the guy was that she was talking about would never choose someone like her, especially if he was already with someone else. 
“Now?” She asked, and then before Seungmin even had the chance to question what she was talking about, he felt the weight of her crashing down on his lap, his hands instinctively shooting out to her hips, not to hold her, but to push her off. That’s what he was trying to do, but it was like she was holding herself there, letting gravity take over completely. “Oh gosh… Sorry… I tripped.” She said, trying to sound innocent, which only disgusted Seungmin more. 
“Can you get off of me now?” He said, trying his best to keep his cool, but he was beyond frustrated and he was pissed and he just wanted to take a breather. He knew that you’d be there soon, and all he wanted was to see you at this point and appreciate just how much of a bitch you weren’t. “Seriously, get up.” The composure was slowly starting to slip away, and he finally was able to push her off after what felt like the longest minute of his life. 
“I must have tripped over the cord for the straightener…” She said between giggles. “I wrinkled your pants, let me just-” 
He immediately grabbed her wrists to stop her before she could even get close to him. “Don’t touch me.” He quickly stood up from his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. “Does anyone know if Y/N made it here yet? Did you even let her in? Jesus Christ…” You were the only person at this point who would be able to help calm him down and for some reason you weren’t there yet even though you had texted him more than 15 minutes ago that you’d be there soon. 
Just as he was about to start looking for you, Jeongin walked into the room, his eyes narrowed as he stared at Seungmin. “Did you and Y/N get into a fight or something?” He asked, and Seungmins eyes lowered to match the look on the maknaes face. “She walked by, she didn’t even say anything when she ran into me. She looked really upset… or really sick… Is she okay?” 
Were you okay? Fuck if he knew, he hadn’t even seen you, the only person that he even liked seeing and he finds out that you were already gone? What the fuck happened? As if he weren’t already agitated enough today, now this? “She left left? Like… Where was she going?” Seungmin asked, his fingers raking through his hair as he tried to keep his cool, but his patience was slowly dwindling as the youngest shrugged his shoulders. “Cool, thanks.” He snapped, making a mental note to apologize for it later as he walked out of the room. 
“Seungmin~” The stylist called out behind him, and even though he tried to quicken his steps, he felt her fingers grasp at the back of his jacket, tugging him back and keeping him from going forward any further. “I’m not done with your makeup yet! You go on in like… 30 minutes! Where are you going?” 
30 minutes. It wasn’t that long when counting how much time he had before he could go on stage, but it felt like too long when it came down to leaving you on your own and not knowing what was going on. Seungmin had priorities, and of course his job was one of them, but you were his top priority. “Let Chan and the rest of the staff know that I won’t be at this show.” He said, and it had been his first choice, his only choice in this matter. He wasn’t going to leave you alone, no matter what the problem was, he was your boyfriend and he was going to be there for you. 
“What?!” She gripped onto his jacket tighter, and he truly was on the verge of completely snapping. She had been getting on his nerves all day, and he was finally at his last, and she seemed to be finding a way to get on that one as well. “Why? You can’t miss a comeback stage… This is ridiculous. Chan will be pissed. Do you know how hard I worked on your-” 
He shrugged out of the jacket before whipping around, his eyes like daggers as he glared at her. “I don’t care. There’s more important things for me to worry about than the third show. They’ve seen me twice, I’m sure they’ll get by without me this time.” He stormed off, leaving her absolutely stunned, but he couldn’t care less. He didn’t care about anything but you right now. 
You sat in your apartment, sipping on an hours old cup of coffee that was colder than the drinks that you had in the fridge. You hadn’t even been able to finish it this morning, you had been so excited to just get to the studio and see Seungmin. Your hair hadn’t been done, you didn’t wear anything fancy, Seungmin had said many times that he loved the way you looked when you weren’t even trying to dress up for him, when you weren’t even trying to look good… That’s when you looked your best. 
Walking down that long hallway to get to his dressing room, it felt like it took forever, and all the words that were whispered amongst the staff members felt like they were being directed towards you. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t saying any names, and it just seemed like they were all staring at you… You tried not to think too much about it, thinking only of the fact that you were about to see Seungmin and that in itself made you happy, it allowed you to completely ignore the offhanded insults that were being thrown around you. 
That happiness that had pushed you forward was immediately gone when you saw the girl sitting on Seungmins lap. He didn’t even let you sit on his lap in public, not even around the other guys… And then came the barely muffled snickers from the female staff behind you, the soft murmurs of how cute the two of them were together. How were you even supposed to process what was going on in that moment? You could barely even begin to process it now. 
The pouring in of texts had your phone vibrating non-stop, that mixed with the random calls that were thrown in, and soon enough your lock screen was completely filled with notifications. All of them were from Seungmin, but you didn’t know what to say to him. Was he cheating on you? You weren’t sure if it had gone that far… yet… But clearly they were closer than any of the other guys with their staff members. 
“Y/N?!” Your name was shouted from the other side of the door, you heard the doorknob jiggle. You had locked it, but he had the keys to your apartment, it was just one of the signs that you trusted him… Maybe you shouldn’t have. “Where… Fuck… Y/N! I left my keys back at the studio… Can you open the door?” 
You were shocked that he had even noticed that you were gone, that you hadn’t come in to see him considering he seemed so invested in the stylist. How could he be so open with it when he knew that you were on your way. You had just talked to him to tell him that you were not even five minutes away. Did he really think that you were going to be okay with that? Was it because he was an idol? He had never striked you as that kind of person, but maybe you had read him all wrong. 
“Jeongin said that you looked sick… Are you okay?” You heard a loud thump against the door and you questioned whether it was his fist or his head, but judging by the loud groan that followed soon after, you felt like you were right to assume that it was his forehead. “You’re really scaring me right now… You haven’t answered my texts or my calls, and I don’t want to have to do it, but I’ll break through the door.” 
Would he actually break through the door? You weren’t sure… But the uncertainty had you quickly getting up and undoing the lock. Not because you wanted to let him in, but if your door ended up damaged at all, you’d be the one paying for a new one. “I’m fine. You can go back now.” You mumbled, turning away just as fast and heading back to your spot on the couch. 
“Clearly you’re not fine. You haven’t responded to me at all.” He walked over to where you sat and dropped down onto the couch beside you, grabbing your phone off the coffee table and turning it on to see all of his unanswered notifications. “Are you sick? Did something happen on your way in?” His hand reached out to touch your forehead and you jerked your head away, turning in the complete opposite direction of him, not wanting to be touched by the hand that had just been holding onto another woman. “Hey… Are you mad at me?” 
“I don’t know what I feel toward you just yet… I just know that I’m upset.” Was truly the only reason that you wanted to give him, that you could give him, but then he let out a little “huh?” and it was even more upsetting that he’d try to play stupid. “Maybe you’d understand how I feel if I just sat on Felixs lap and he had his hands on me. Or maybe you wouldn’t… Clearly you don’t care enough.” 
“Excuse me?” He practically shrieked, grabbing your chin and turning your head so you’d look at him. “You’re not sitting on anyone else’s lap… You’re not being touched by anyone that isn’t me. The hell are you talking about?” You could feel his body shaking ever so slightly with anger at the thought of one of his members being disrespectful enough to touch you in any way knowing that you were his, but again, his complete lack of understanding, or the false act of not understanding had you rolling your eyes. 
“Seriously Seungmin, just get out.” The words were breathed out in an exasperated sigh. You tried to get him to get it, but he just didn’t, he refused to, and that in itself was tiring. You were just emotionally drained, you couldn’t put up with this, you didn’t want to. 
His head shook fast before his eyes were set on yours once more. “No because now I’m really fucking confused and I’m even more scared than I was before… Is there something going on between you and Felix?” His voice was laced with panic and frustration, but your jaw dropped at the assumption. How could he even think that? It’s like he completely brushed over the fact that it was a hypothetical, that you were trying to make an example. 
“No!” You almost shouted, tears of anger stinging your eyes. “Don’t you get it?! I’m talking about you!” His head cocked to the side, like a confused puppy as he pointed at himself, questioning you once more. “Just go be with your fucking stylist, Seungmin. I’m sure she misses you and your lap is getting really fucking cold.”  
His mind had been so fogged with worrying about you that he had almost, although he would rather it have been fully, forgotten about the incident. You had already gotten up off the couch, motioning rather sternly toward the door for him to leave, and that’s when it finally clicked. “Wait… No, Y/N. I didn’t… That… I didn’t want that. She did that!” The words rolled off his tongue faster than any rap that the older guys had done before. “Mmhm” Was all you said in response, but his eyes were like saucers, wide and dark brown, but so glassy as his own tears began to well. “I’m serious! I was trying to push her off and she wouldn’t move! I swear!” His hands were clasped together in front of his chest, like he was praying for you to listen to him, to believe him. 
“Seriously Seungmin… just… just go.” You huffed, your thumb and pointer finger coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose. Everything that had happened, you just felt weak, you were tired, and truth be told, you just wanted to be alone. You motioned towards the door once more, breathing heavily through your nose as you tried to fight back your tears. “Leave. Please.” 
It hurt, it was devastating to walk out the front door, to leave you behind knowing that once that door closed behind him you’d be crying by yourself. You didn’t want to see him though, and he knew that if he had seen something like that, if you had been sitting on Felixs lap like you had said, he would feel the same way. 
You wouldn’t do something like that though, he knew you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t do something like that either. Of course right now your mind was too frazzled to even think straight, and it was so early in your relationship too. The two of you had only been together for 8 months, he was well prepared for small bumps in the road, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He loved you, and while he knew he didn’t say it enough, he hoped that you’d know that he loved you enough, he loved you too much to do something like this to you. 
It took a couple minutes for him to get himself together as he stood outside of your door, and by getting himself together, it was just him switching from being devastated about being kicked out to pissed at the stylist. She did this, she caused this. As he walked out of your building his mind replayed the moments that lead up to the stylist landing in his lap, the call that she was on, who she was talking to. It was all clicking now. 
The phone call, the way she talked so disrespectfully, the way it seemed like whoever they were talking about was right there… She was talking about you… People were talking about you like that… and now his blood was boiling as he climbed into his car and slammed the door shut, whipping out of the parking spot and speeding down the road back towards the studio. 
“You’re back for the performance?” One of the male staff members asked and Seungmin walked up to the building, his head only shaking in response to the man's question, making a b-line straight to the room where everything had happened. “Is everything okay? Did you for-“ 
Seungmin turned to look at the man, violence burning bright in his eyes, and once again, he’d have to make a mental note to apologize to the man who hadn’t truly done anything to him, he was just mad. The man’s mouth snapped shut as he backed away, his hands up in front of him as he continued backing up until he went around the corner and was out of sight. 
As he got to the room, he could hear the stylist and a couple other people talking, all of them females, and he stood just off to the side of the door to listen. “He just ran off, can you believe that?” “Because fucking Jeongin came in and told him that his girlfriend looked upset.” “I’d be upset if I looked like that too.” “Can’t believe he’d actually chase after her. Is he even worried about his reputation? His image?” “He’d look so much better with you noona, just give him time.” 
Blood boiling wasn’t even close anymore, it had all but evaporated now as he listened to them talk about you, about himself… As if she ever had a chance in hell. Of course, violence couldn’t be used, but god, he wished it could be. He wanted her gone, he wanted all of them, every single one that had spoken wrongly about you, he wanted them jobless, out on the streets, he wanted them to suffer. 
He pulled his phone out, knowing that they were too stupid to stop talking, too deep in their disgusting conversation to just let it end. He started recording, doing his best to keep from plowing through the cracked door and going off on each and every one of them. This was the evidence he needed, not just to show management, but to show you that he was being honest, that he didn’t want any part of what had happened. 
“What did he do when you fell on his lap? I thought the two of you looked adorable when I saw you through the mirror.” “He got really fucking mad. Can you believe that? He told me to get off? Like… hello? Has he even taken the time to look at me? I’m way better.” “Did he… you know…?” “Pfft… no! It’s like… he has a thing for ugly girls.” “Don’t worry, if you keep doing it enough, she’ll just dump him and then you and Seungmin will be together. Yay!” “Shut up! Don’t say his name… What if someone hears?” “No one is going to hear, there isn’t even anyone around right now.”
That was enough, and while he was sure they’d keep talking until someone walked in, he couldn’t stomach hearing anyone talking about you like that. You were such an amazing person, the best girlfriend, the sweetest and kindest person he had ever met. You were his perfect match, completing him in a way that no one else ever could. 
They wouldn’t keep working there, they wouldn’t be there to upset you anymore, and he surely would make sure they’d never try to ruin your relationship ever again. Just as he was about to walk away, the woman filed out of the room, a shriek of excitement leaving the stylist. “Seungminnie! You came back!” She squealed, running over to him and hooking her arm around his. “I knew you would. You still have time to be on before the show starts.” 
She was walking along beside him, and he was gritting his teeth the entire time, breathing deeply through his nose, but then her hand lowered and he felt her fingers brush against his thigh and he couldn’t stay quiet anymore, stopping to look at her but all he saw was red. 
“Stop.” He said flatly, grabbing her hand and pushing it away from him. “I know what you’re doing, I know what you’re trying and it’s not going to work.” He moved closer and closer to her until she was backed up against the wall, her eyes wide as he got in her face. “I don’t like you, I will never like you. You’re disgusting and you’re ugly, no amount of makeup will ever fix your personality. Also, you’re fired.” 
“You can’t fire me.” She whispered, her hands folded in front of her as she tried to look as innocent as possible just in case anyone walked past. “I didn’t do anything… you’ve got it all wrong.” She really thought she was smart, and that had Seungmin scoffing as he pulled his phone out and started playing the recording, watching as her eyes went wide. “Wait…” 
“I don’t want you near me, I don’t want you in the same building as me, I don’t want you touching me even if it’s for work. I want you gone. You’re not worth the destruction of my relationship, and if it makes my girlfriend happy, I’ll make them fire you right this minute.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Today is your last day, so pack your shit up. I’m being nice enough to give you the time to do that.” Her mouth fell open and she quickly ducked away from him, running down the hall in the opposite direction, her overly dramatic sobs slowly getting more and more quiet until everything was silent. The other staff members stood around, their eyes wavering as they looked everywhere but at Seungmin. “Don’t think you’re all off the hook… I heard each and every one of you.” 
He didn’t have the time or the patience to get into it with them though, leaving it at that, leaving them to worry just as he had, just like he still is right now about the looming outcome of his relationship. They can worry about their job, and he can hopefully fix what they had messed up. “Hey Seungmin!” Bangchan called, and he could hear the heavy footsteps of the boot clad leader running down the hall to catch up. “Jeongin told us you had to leave… Is everything alright? Are you still gonna be able to make it now?” 
Seungmin shook his head, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “No… I just forgot my keys to the apartment back here in my rush over…” He quickly patted his pockets, rolling his eyes and sighing loudly. “Almost forgot them again, thanks for making me remember.” He patted Bangchan on the shoulder as he sprinted past him to grab his bag from the dressing room and then running back out, just barely brushing past Chan. “I promise I’ll tell you about it later! I’ll tell you all of it!” 
The audio clip came to an end… for the third time. The first had been when Seungmin promptly came back to your apartment, tears in his eyes as he let it all play out, and then begged you to believe him. The first listen had ended in you both hugging and crying as you apologized profusely for doubting him even for a second, and he apologized for making you feel that way. Many kisses were given to make up for the almost 2 and a half hours of worrying that you both put each other through. 
The second listen was when he had sent the clip to his managers and then decided that he wanted to listen once more just to try to imagine how they’d react when they heard it. It didn’t take long for Seungmin to get a message back, more apologies for him having to put up with staff members like that, and then apologies to you for being put through something like that. The girls involved were in the process of being reprimanded and fired for their behavior. 
The third listen, the one you had just gone done with, was when Seungmin had gone to the dorms and decided to take you with him. He had promised to tell the guys about what had happened and why he didn’t perform today and the little recording served as the perfect explanation. “I knew something was wrong!” Jeongin exclaimed, his hands clapping together loudly as he motioned to you. “If you would have told me I could have told you all about how much Seungmin hated his stylist. The amount of times he’d come home ranting about how annoying she is… Ugh. So glad she’s gone.” 
You nodded in agreement to Jeongins words as Seungmin draped his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “This wasn’t about me… It’s about Y/N.” He said firmly, although his touch was soft as he ran his hand up and down your arm. “I’m just glad that she’s so understanding…” 
“Did you cry?” Minho asked, and Seungmin was thrown off by the question, looking around the room at all the guys that were now staring at him awaiting his answer. “I bet you did. You cry when you have to spend late nights at the dorms instead of at her apartment with her.” 
“No I don’t!” Seungmin quickly tried to defend himself. “It’s just that the dorms are kind of dusty and they make my eyes water and my nose runny.” 
“But your eyes aren’t watering and your nose isn’t runny now…” You quizzed, holding back your giggles, and he let out a groan before burying his face in your hair. “You’re so cute… If you want to move into my apartment all you have to do is ask.” You pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head and Minho made a sound of disgust. 
“You two are disgusting, get a room.” Minho grumbled, jokingly tossing a pillow at Seungmin, making sure to completely miss you, before getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen to help Felix with dinner. 
Jeongin snickered mischievously before calling out to Minho. “Remember! The dust makes him all sniffly! That must be why he’s got five boxes of tissues and the mega bottle of lotion. He must be really dry!” All the men cracked up and you could feel Seungmins body rise about 20 degrees with embarrassment. 
Instead of continuing to hide in your hair, he jumped up, practically diving across the living room to tackle Jeongin who was still laughing hysterically. “It’s not funny! Shut up!” But even you were laughing now, watching as Jeongin pushed Seungmin off of him and the two started to chase each other around the room. 
“I’m glad he’s found someone like you.” Bangchan said once he had walked over to sit beside you, taking the time that he had to really talk to you. “He loves you a lot, I’ve never seen him more panicked than he was earlier today when he thought he was going to lose you. I just hope you’ll stay… That you love him just as much…” 
You took a moment to look around at the chaos unfolding around you, Seungmin and Jeongin fighting each other with the decorative throw pillows as Changbin recorded and Jisung narrated it. Hyunjin sat off to the side, watching with amusement and clapping whenever one of them landed a hit with their pillows. Things were absolutely crazy right now, but you loved it, you loved all of them. You had started with Seungmin, your amazing boyfriend who would do anything for you, and in the span of 8 months you had gained 7 brothers who protect you like their own sibling. “I don’t plan on going anywhere…” You murmured, a smile on your face as you sunk into the couch. There was nothing that anyone could do to split you and Seungmin apart. You were staying as long as he wanted you to, and you hoped that it would be forever. 
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aureutr · 1 year
Text
Glass Onion and COVID masks as character shorthand
I wanted to talk real quick about the scene where Benoit and our suspects first meet on the dock. The mask shorthand is not necessarily needed, we’ve been introduced to almost everyone already and can get a good idea of who’s an outright asshole and who might have more layers (ha). But I still appreciated it.
This is what I think about the scene in general, if you have a different interpretation I’d be interested to read it!
Benoit - Patterned cloth mask. This was not uncommon to see in late 2020 and beyond, but this is only May 2020. He (or his husband) likely sewed it himself. This is a conscientious, yet stylish, man who pays attention to what’s happening and adjusts his behavior accordingly.
Lionel - Black cloth mask. This mask does not provide adequate protection for others because he is wearing it over substantial facial hair. He’s a man of science who cares... but perhaps only so long as he does not have to make any personal sacrifices for it. In this case, it would be shaving his beard or finding a masking solution that forms a better seal. In other cases....? :)
Claire - Ill-fitting beige mask. Her nose is hanging out through half of the scene (also is that a tampon hanging out of it when she gets out of the car?). Similar to Lionel, she has values that she supposedly stands for. But she is either ignorant of the full picture or is willing to set those values aside when she thinks she needs to.
Birdie - Golden mesh “mask”. Birdie has already been shown as uncaring about COVID earlier in the film with her party (”it’s okay, they’re in my pod” my ass). Here she flaunts the fact that she is aware of what she should be doing, but is choosing not to. There is also an underlying thread of her general ignorance, as she foregoes anyone’s safety (even her own) for style and glamour.
Peg - Standard surgical mask, perfectly fitted, complete with twisted ear loops. She is meant to be bland and in the background, at least in-universe. Peg is imminently practical, and while she might like finer things (later in the movie she is visibly disappointed to be given a Solo cup when others receive personalized glasses), she is willing to forego them to achieve her goals. There is not much more that can be gleaned from her mask alone.
Duke and Whiskey - No masks at all. Duke is a far-right asshole with no regard for the safety of others, and little regard for his own. Whiskey does as he says, even though she later mentions that she doesn’t want her politics completely defined by his. She might not want that, but her actions speak louder. There is nothing subtle about Duke and little about Whiskey, they are as they appear.
Andi - No mask. But I’m willing to forgive this one in the name of movie magic, given that the shot is meant to be lingering and mysterious. At this point we don’t know anything about this character, but it seems unlikely that she’s in the same camp as Duke. Or, perhaps given that all of the other characters are masked (or not) in meaningful ways, her lack of mask is a subtle misdirection about Ms. Brand.
Under the cut find another quick note about the mysterious “puff gun”.This does contain spoilers for the end of the movie, so tread carefully
We learn at the end of the movie (though it’s not exactly subtle from the get-go) that Miles Bron is an utter moron. Explicitly, anything good he does is not his idea and many things he does on his own are idiot mistakes that others go with because of his power and influence (and money). Whatever this mysterious “you’re good” puff was, I seriously doubt it was a COVID cure of any sort.
My headcanon is that everyone who left “Pieceshite” Island alive dealt tested positive for COVID a few days later.
Also, I called her “Andi” and not “Helen” so as to not spoiler anyone. ;)
EDIT: Several people have pointed out that Lionel actually has a KN95 mask, not a regular cloth one. My bad! Thank you for correcting me. I still think my take otherwise works since his beard breaks the seal.
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mango-bango-bby · 10 months
Note
Hii so like, no homo but u should totally write another safeword fic 🤭 like maybe yan!dabihawks teasing their partner like yk doin foreplay and it's going well but then they say something degrading so she safewords bc degradation makes her feel icky
Ly pooks 🫶
♡ Crybaby ♡
(A/N: I love safeword fics, they’re so comforting!! I’m not a degradation girl and so it was a strange to write this but the praise at the end made it okay lol!! I actually love this so much I even thought of making a part two to this. I really hope you like 💖💕 *also I made this mafia!dabihawks so I hope that’s ok)
Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, MAFIA AU, NSFW, degradation, name calling, use of safeword, praise, aftercare, super sweet near the end 💞, not exactly proofread
Summary: You use the safeword(Yan!Dabi x Fem!reader x Yan!Hawks)
Masterlist ➸ ♡
Series Masterlist ➸ ♡
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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Keigo and Dabi didn’t often get frustrated with their work. But there was every once in a while were they would get incredibly frustrated. You could kind of tell that they were on edge tonight, they were a little rougher than normal but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t deal with.
Keigo had you say in his lap, his fingers pulling and tweaking your nipples. Dabi was infront of you, leaving bite marks across your thighs as his fingers rolled your clit to tease you. Neither of them had even gotten undressed, leaving you completly nude while they stayed clothed. Both of them wearing slacks, although Keigos button up was on the floor while Dabis was still on but half-way unbuttoned.
“You’re whimpering like a little slut” Keigo almost hisses in your ear. You uncomfortably squirm in his lap. “I-I’m not-” you whisper weakly, trying to deflect what Keigo had called you.
“You’re gonna’ say you’re not when you’re so wet?” Dabi asks, flicking your clit causing you to jump and let out a small squeal. “Mm, so dirty, aren’t you going to admit it? Say you’re a dirty slut?” Keigo says, earning a low chuckle from Dabi against your thigh.
“No..-” you whimper, Dabi cutting you off. “Lucky we caught you, you’re always begging for attention, who knows the men you would fuck if we weren’t around to watch” Dabi says, your eyes welling up with tears who you dreaded falling.
“Stop! Stop- Apple, apple…” you sniffle out the safeword, bringing your hands up to wipe you tears and hopefully conceal them. Both men immediately freeze up at you saying the safe word. They told you to say it and they would stop whatever they were doing to you but this was the first time you had ever used it.
“Hey, baby-” Keigo calls, rubbing your arm from behind in concern. “Don’t like it when you call me that” You cry softly, Dabi moving your hands out of the way to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “We’re sorry, pretty, it was just the heat of the moment” He says although it doesn’t calm your crying.
“Did you mean it? Do you think I beg for attention?” You cry, your tears and sobs stab through their hearts. “No, baby, I didn’t mean any of it” Dabi says, leaning closer to you to kiss away your tears. “No, you’re our sweet girl” Keigo whispers in your ear, gently petting your hair.
They really should have known better. You were their sensitive girl. Their sensitive girl who cried at a sad scene in a movie or an advertisement about a dog, or even scenarios you made up on your own head. They’d should’ve known calling you any names at all would’ve made you upset!
“You’re okay, birdy, wanna’ go take a bubble bath?” Keigo asks, you crawling off of his lap and onto the bed. You nod your head, Dabi lifting up your face to give you a small kiss before leaving to start the bath.
“You’re our sweet girl, you know that?” He asks, giving you a small peck on the forehead.
“We love you, you know that?”
You nod.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Thank you for reading, darling!!
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bambiesfics · 5 months
Note
do u have any headcanons for loser ellie? <3
Sorry if these arent as yummy, I just woke up and I’m so eepy. But these are what I could think up <3 This is such a random collection of thoughts but!
- I think Ellie has a red Coca-Cola themed mini fridge in her room where she stores monster energy drinks and her elf bars so they pull cool when she smokes them.
- She has a vision of -2.00 in one eye and -2.50 in the other eye, but hates putting on her glasses because she’s afraid it makes her look nerdier than she already is.
- She doesn’t use conditioner, only shampoo. And when girls at school flirt with her and ask how her hair is so soft she just tugs on a tiny lock of it and awkwardly tries to avoid eye contact. “Uh-I uh…I dunno. Do you think it’s soft?”
- She falls in love fast, and hard. An absolute master at obsessing over someone so much so that thinking about her crush at night time has been her favorite mechanism to fall asleep at since she was in middle school.
- She owns like 4 pairs of converses and only one pair of doc martens. She still winces thinking about the amount she spent on those. She’s had the same shoe size since she was in middle school so all her converses are beat up.
- Her preferred method of masturbating is angrily fingering herself and she usually does it with a pillow over her head. She’s always pissed after, she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the sudden dopamine drop from her nut. Or maybe it’s because she’s tired of imagining fucking the same girls she can’t have & who will never want her back. There’s only so many times she can imagine eating a pretty girl’s butt until they squirt on her glasses before she starts getting pissed that it isn’t actually happening, mid-masturbation sesh. She grinds her g-spot until she cums, lazily rinses her hands, and just lies face down on her pillow in a stiff plank position.
- She listens to 40 year old dad rock the most. Think Aerosmith, Depeche mode, Papa roach, Deftones (she has a complex about that) and Alice in Chains. She’d slowly built up a collection of her most loved songs since she was 12 years old. So all her favourite bands and artists are a collection of music she holds near and dear to her heart. Don’t don’t even try it though, it doesn’t matter if you listen to those bands too, you cannot suggest one North American song to Ellie that she hasn’t already heard of. She’ll always know more music than you, even though her Spotify music obscurity rating is like top 6%
- She oddly knows more pop songs than you too. Even though she doesn’t listen to them nearly as much.
- She has slight ringing in her left ear from how loud she usually blasts her headphones at night. Sometimes when the noise really pisses her off, she leaps off her bed and loads up her playstation instead. Which then lead to 10am’s the very next day where her eye bags are a deep purple and she walks through the halls like a freckled ghoul.
- she uses the broken skateboard she used to skate when she was 17, as decoration in the corner for her room.
- she has 17 Etsy bookmarks saved from different tarot love spell practitioners. One time she dm’d one and just went into very scary explicit detail about how she wanted you to notice her, where the scene would be, what she’d be wearing, the first time you’d let her give you head, the fact that you’d be ovulating (that one was really important), and what type of pregnancy cravings you’d have when the inevitable happened and she married you (you weirdly had cravings for her current fav snacks: snickers and carton almond milk).
- she also knows she’s a loser. Scarily self aware girl.
- One time her and her counsellor just stared at each other, and blinked back and forth the entire sesh.
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dadsbongos · 5 months
Note
PLEASE MORE AIRHEAD W GOJO SHOKO GETOU 🙏🙏PLEASE
5.1 K words
warnings - i borderline refused to proofread this, suguru wears a skirt and it awakens something in you, also suguru's anti-non sorcerers agenda, dumb timeline doesn't make sense (get over it), filler arc fic
summary - crack that i decided to take seriously, you and the gang go on a beach mission! and some things don't turn out as expected...
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“Woah, ‘Toru, check out this yellow!” you jab a finger into the cold, hard plexiglass caging the many frozen flavors from onlooking civilians, “It’s, like, traffic sign yellow!”
“Who would eat that?” he grumbles, glaring at the engraving below the tub - advertising that specific hideous color as a special new taste, “For 4,000 yen?”
“Get me coffee, kay?” Shoko shoots you a glance from over her phone, thumb dancing across her cramped keypad, “And keep it down, you’ll piss off the vendor.”
“Yeah,” Suguru slips up beside you, nose wrinkled and chin tucked close to his chest to avoid the obnoxious scent of sweaty, huffing people, “You’re both making a scene,” his brows furrow over at your accomplice, “Didn’t you just get scolded by Yaga yesterday, Satoru?”
Suguru knows he did, actually, because who else would’ve been the one that held a bag of frozen peas to the hot red lump in Satoru’s forehead for thirty whole minutes?
“Hey,” but you’ve paid neither any mind, pointing at the other end of the display bay to a red-and-white swirled tub. The edges have browned together and its melting points have re-frozen in an unattractive slime, “Gross!” taking Satoru by the hand, you drag him over to the far corner, “Let’s check it out!”
“Hm, we’re way too early,” Shoko pokes her head through the turquoise and cream-striped tent flaps as you order.
“And one coffee scoop,” Suguru calls to you and Satoru when the clan heir beside you finishes demanding two cups of the red velvet cheesecake, pointedly ignoring the baggy-eyed, slouching teenager behind the steel counter.
“On it,” the boy grumbles, scooping up each order in hurried, jerky swings.
Satoru swings a lanky arm through one of yours, head leaning onto yours as he pathetically whines, “My blood sugar is crashing… Won’t make it much longer…”
Two plastic cups in illustrated covers of the stall’s logo slide to another awaiting couple as Satoru sets his card down in preparation to pay. You turn back to Suguru and gesture to the tubs of ice cream, frowning when he merely shakes his head. Shoko inches between you and Satoru, breaking your chain, and you take that as an opportunity to huddle into your broodier friend.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
Satoru turns back at the sound of your voice, abandoning his credit card on the counter, and Shoko watches silently.
“No, you enjoy it,” Suguru insists, smiling despite your puppy-eyed pout.
“But I don’t want you to miss out!”
“I’m happy enough that the four of us can go on a mission again.”
“How sweet,” Satoru wrangles an arm over Suguru’s shoulders, sighing with all the dramatics of a tantrum throwing toddler, “It has been too long since our last mission altogether.”
Shoko nods, moving next to you with one hand jammed into the pocket of her skirt, “It doesn’t help that you two,” she points at the boys, “decided to pick up a couple problem children.”
“Aw, c’mon,” you chirp, “That’s not fair to the girls, and Megumi’s really nice when you know him!”
“Ehh,” she waves her hand loosely, rolling her eyes, “I’ll cross those bridges when they get to high school; I’m no good with kids.”
Shrugging, you think of how well-behaved and kind both Tsumiki and Megumi are (well, Megumi has his moments), “Neither is Satoru and the Fushiguro’s seem fine.”
“Hey,” Satoru is quickly shrugged off his friend’s shoulder when he wails into Suguru’s ear with abandon, “Not fair! I’ve really improved over the months!”
“You still make him stir fry with bell peppers!”
“It’s delicious!”
You glower at his defense, “Doesn’t matter how tasty it is - Megumi’s not gonna eat it!”
Suguru can’t help but ignore the shouting in his ears in favor of appreciating the sight before him. You and Satoru and Shoko. Knowing Nanako and Mimiko are safe and happy at home. With your perfume and even Shoko’s natural nicotine cling working overtime to mask the scent of every monkey crowding this beach. Ignoring the monkeys got easier over time, keeping the real reasons he’s decided to carry on fighting in mind instead. Satoru and Shoko and Nanako and Mimiko and Haibara and Nanami and Yaga and, of course, you.
Two hands slam into his back, the rest of you just barely peeking out from around Suguru’s broad shoulders to glare at Satoru, who’s slung his tea shade sunglasses to the pad of his nose in a vague, blue-eyed threat.
Suguru claps a hand harshly against his friend’s shoulder, jostling the boy’s body, “Put them away, Satoru.”
Shoko bounds out of the small parlor with both hands in her pockets, murmuring something about needing a smoke break.
Satoru pulls his glasses entirely from his face, grinning at Suguru, “Aw, trying to be the big, brave knight?”
“Satoru,” Suguru calls lowly, impatience only thinly veiled.
Effectively cutting off the altercation, a hand cuffs the backs of yours and Satoru’s uniform collars and drags you both towards the open tent flap. Suguru curls his hands into fists at the sight but staves off a retort, even as both you and Satoru are thrown into the sand. A taller man with thicker arms, but the same sunken eyes and tight frown as the teen behind the counter squints down at the both of you, “And stay out!”
“Aw, we didn’t even get our ice cream…”
Shoko tosses her head back, melodic laugher ringing sweetly into your ears before she snaps forward, pinching at your cheek, “Sorry your boytoys couldn’t complete their mission.”
Quirking a brow at her, you don’t even bother to swipe away her fingers on your cheek, “Boytoys…?”
Satoru gasps, ‘tsk’ing at Shoko while covering your ears, “Hey, keep her innocent!”
Shoko removes her hand from you just to knock Satoru’s off the sides of your head. She looks over her shoulder, lips pursing as she surveys the cramped line of tented and umbrella’d stalls, “We should split up. You two are just causing trouble,” she grins at Satoru’s offended look, “As usual.”
Suguru hums, testy and wholly argumentative, “I think we should lay low for the next couple of hours and come back. The curse is more likely to come out at night.”
You frown at the thought of being stuffed into a yellow-walled, vaguely blood-stained, two bed hotel room.
And Suguru backtracks, “Nevermind.”
Snagging you by the arm, Shoko jerks you into her side and jabs a thumb over her shoulder, “We’ll be investigating some swimsuit tents, get a sense of any residuals or smaller curses,” then she points at the duo before you, “You two should find your own thing.”
You’ve given no say before being dragged off to a snowy white tent, sand kicked up and sticking to the flowy drapes. Even small shops for clothing can carry lingering, bothersome curses with anxiety over fat that naturally rolls and jiggles or peeking scars and colored splotches. And despite only having about two years of official sorcery under your belt, you’ve noticed that lingerie, typical underwear, and swimsuits were especially troublesome for gathering curses.
That’s especially noticeable when flyheads and low grade spirits crawl along the tarp, crinkling, unpleasant floor and clawing into the legs and necks of unassuming women. But Shoko has taken no interest in any of them.
Instead, she shoves another wood hanger into your face, “What about this one?”
“Mmm,” clicking your tongue, the sight of a neon orange with lemon yellow lining inspires no particular sparkles or electricity under your skin, “nah.”
Shoko nods and clinks the hanger back onto the rod, “Agreed.”
“Hey, Shoko?” you tilt your head at her, holding out the two swimsuit sets already dangling off your fingers, “How’re we paying for these?”
“Ah!” she snickers, fingers dipping into a skirt pocket before proudly displaying a black, plastic card in her palm, “The Strongest left his card out, so I’m teaching him a lesson,” tucking her hand back into hiding, she grins at you, “So rack up as many as you want.”
“Hmm…”
“He’ll hardly even know the money’s gone.”
“Isn’t that stealing?”
She shrugs, “No.”
Your lashes narrow at that response, brows furrowing, before beaming at Shoko with an enthusiastic nod, “Okay :D”
“That’s the spirit!” she claps you on the back, like a father after his son’s first little league championship.
And like a bushy-tailed young child unburdened by popularity contests and pinching pennies and needing to press the best words into the best order to feel adequate, you gaze out at the seven, stunted racks with wonder. Golden wheat fields that sway in long waves under the wind that whistles through pokey tree branches. A land all yours.
And like every conqueror before, you’re eager to feed on the dancing wheat you don’t yet own, “I wonder which one I’ll wear first.”
“I wonder if they’d want something…” Suguru mutters, only for his own ears.
Satoru blows a raspberry from behind his friend, chin settling onto Suguru’s shoulder and staring down at the wiry, iron shelf with painted, glazed shells and tiny red-lipsticked ladies with thick black curls and wooden curves on plastic, circle podiums and chunky plastic beaded necklaces.
“You’re so obsessed.”
Suguru grunts, slamming an elbow into Satoru’s gut and making no contact, “You were thinking it, too.”
“Not like you,” Satoru waves off, patting himself down for the thin outline of his credit card. When the first search comes up entirely empty, he looks over at Suguru, “Uh,” then returns to his pockets, hands dipping into the gaps, “Huh.”
“What?”
“I don’t have my card,” Satoru taps his foot once, then twice, then shrugs, “Oops.”
“‘Oops,’” Suguru snickers, “Are you gonna cut it off?”
“It’ll turn up somewhere,” stretching his hands above his head, Satoru yawns, “Sorry we can’t get your girlfriend anything.”
“And Shoko. And she’s not my girlfriend… We really should’ve just gone to a hotel, all the smaller curses will be attracted to the dock.”
Satoru can’t even be bothered to deny Suguru his natural right to feeling smug, just turning and waltzing out from the cheap, tacky souvenir stand under a peachy umbrella. Sweat beads miserably down his back and forehead from under his black uniform, shoes sinking into the sand with every step towards the coast.
It was something that nagged at the both of them, honestly. The surface-level pointlessness of this mission, especially the early nature of your group’s settlement. And especially especially because it was so immediately easy to feel where the strongest cursed energy was coming from. Like this buzzing, tender freeze that washed over the both of them - pulling towards one spot on the cluttered beach.
A lone dock by the crashing shore. Splintering, crooked pillars with a deflated, banana yellow ducky floatie dangling between two planks. Likely yet another test of courage spot, popular among vacationing families with young siblings and cousins; eight children of varying ages missing.
“It is weird,” Satoru lowers his glasses along the bridge of his nose, “that all four of us were sent out. Nanami probably could’ve taken this out by himself if it’s just another grade two.”
Suguru shrugs from behind his friend, “Must be a good reason we were all sent out. Maybe the eight brats.”
“Jeez,” Satoru bats a hand backwards in an attempt to smack his friend, he misses completely, “At least sound sympathetic!”
Just before Suguru can reply, your voice is singing out their names. The two turn and Suguru is a little ashamed in the way his body stiffens at the sight of you in a cherry-print bikini. Shoko lingers at your back, texting who you all silently agree to be Utahime. You bounce into the spot before your friends, hands behind your back and a blinding grin curling into your cheeks.
“You look nice,” Suguru’s own voice is lost on him, heart beating so loud in his ears that he can’t quite hear himself. He hopes he sounded suave. He hopes it makes you forget every time he’s embarrassed himself in front of you, and all you see is the charming Suguru that your mom would just love.
“Aww, thanks!” you giggle, holding your bundled uniform tighter to your chest. And he’s even more humiliated over the hope that you’re trying to hide the pounding of your own heart.
Satoru nudges Suguru with an elbow and the favor is returned with a foot jamming down on Satoru’s shoe.
“Shoko and I both agreed,” you unknowingly interrupt their spat, “that before we all totally die, we should have fun on the beach!”
“You shouldn’t say it like that…” Suguru sighs, but the smile is still plain on his face. That question from earlier rises in him - why were you all sent here?
“I think that’s a great idea!” Satoru extends an arm towards you and gladly allows you to tug him towards the water, only releasing hold to let him reactivate his infinity.
Shoko watches from the shoreline with Suguru. She looks up at the man, flipping her phone shut, “You never complimented me, you know?”
“Huh?” Suguru looks first at Shoko’s twisted simper, her raised brow, her low hanging eyelids that let her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Then he notices - a black bikini hugging her own body. He flushes, not over the sight - but because he was caught, “Sorry.”
“You’re such a sucker,” she snickers.
He was caught with that familiar lump in his throat and lethally beating in his chest that only you could cause.
“Hey!” and, of course, it’s you again who calls to him, “C’mon, we wanna play chicken!”
And he’s caught again, red-faced; stripping off his shirt and shoes and socks while Shoko laughs at him. She holds out her phone and watches as he carefully wraps it in his uniform overshirt before trudging down the sands towards you and Satoru. Shoko wades through the crashing water towards Satoru, her hands find his shoulders when they all notice he hasn’t yet joined.
You’re pouting at him and Satoru is groaning, “Just get in! They’re pants - they’ll dry!”
“Easy for you to say,” Suguru huffs, squirming at the feeling of water sticking his pants to his shins as he slowly creeps into the chilled ocean, “Just use infinity for everything…”
“What was that?!” Satoru cups a hand over his ear, neck craning outwards as Suguru approaches, “Didn’t catch that last bit.”
“You’re annoying,” Suguru declares, latching to your side and crouching down just enough for you to scramble up onto his shoulders yet still keep his boxers dry. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, then your thighs bracket shakily around his waist. Suguru palms your thighs and helps lift you to sit up on the broad expanse of his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Satoru yawns, hands on his hips, as Shoko tries yanking herself up onto his back.
“Hey!” she snaps, pounding a fist into his back knowing full well he wouldn’t feel it, “Bend down, would you?!”
“Huh?” Satoru turns to stare down Shoko over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at her, “Oh! Oops, sometimes I forget how short you are!”
“Hey!”
Suguru tilts his head back to look up at you, both arms secure around your legs, “You okay up there?”
You nod slowly, fingers gently brushing the stray hairs of his bangs from his face, “Uh-huh.”
“See,” Satoru gestures out to you and Suguru, “even our favorite bubble-brain got it done. You’re just not trying hard enough.”
And once again, Shoko digs a fist into his back (and then another when he mockingly hisses and whines).
“Don’t be long,” Shoko exhales, noxious smoke rising from her lips with a cigarette perched between two fingers and, in that same hand, texting Utahime once again.
“It’d be quicker if you weren’t slacking off,” Satoru ‘tsk’s, already heading down to the creaky dock with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His cheeks are flaring red from hours prior in the sun, even after the four of you had crawled into a hotspot restaurant to change and cool down.
“Thanks again,” Suguru still clings to your side and you let him, even leaning into it.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sugu,” you grin.
You hadn’t been concerned with how civilians would perceive Suguru in your uniform skirt when he changed out of his soaked pants - not that he’d really care how non-sorcerers think of him anyway. But some bizarre part of you can’t stop looking at his legs in your skirt.
He insisted that you keep your leggings, so his skin is bare to the moonlight past his mid-thigh.
It’s bizarre, most definitely, the part of you that keeps staring at the flex of his thighs beneath your skirt as you both soldier through the sand dunes. Your hand finds Suguru’s and you cradle his arm against your chest, Satoru nowhere in sight. The both of you shuffling under the dock, eyes narrowing in search of your little white-haired friend. You shift closer to Suguru the longer your search goes, hand winding tighter within his.
Wind blows under Suguru’s stolen skirt and chills against your skin, the waves lapping at mushy sand. Your blood beats in your ears, Suguru already peering up at the midnight sky through the gaps in the dock.
Hot air puffs against the side of your face, pale skin bouncing moonlight into your peripherals in a flash, “Boo!”
“Ah!” you squeal, jumping somehow closer into Suguru, glaring at the cackling man through narrowed lashes, “Gojo!”
“Aw,” Satoru pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, flicking the nonexistent tear at you, “So formal! Aren’t we friends?”
“Not after that!”
“Satoru,” Suguru’s resilience is quieter than yours, the hand not entwined with yours is firm on his hip, “You really scared her,” you nod with a ‘hmph!’, “She was already on edge, looking for you no less.”
Satoru drapes himself over you like a frail Victorian woman in shock, “I’m sorry,” he wraps both arms around your neck and squeezes you into his chest, “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Hmm…”
A creak shutters just ahead. The deflated, wrinkly duck floatie shivers. All three heads turn into the abyss.
You tuck your chin close to your chest, wringing your arms around one of Suguru’s as you call, “Hey, Shoko?!”
“What?!” but her call is undeniably still in the direction where you three left her.
“Here it is,” Satoru murmurs, turning to grin at you, nudging his head towards the darkness just ahead, “Let’s go!”
Begrudgingly, you allow Suguru to guide you into the creaking, inky space under this dock.
“You’re making the curse stronger, you know?” Satoru turns to face you, walking backwards with both hands in his pockets.
You groan and go to argue back, but a blobby, brown, mucky curse plops in front of your group. The three of you pause and the little thing blinks up at your group.
It throbs.
“Ew!” you stomp down onto the curse, sand poofs up around your boot and the muddy body pops, splattering around your group’s feet.
“Didn’t even need a technique,” Suguru looks up from the scene of your crime, glaring back down into the darkness, “We weren’t sent here for that.”
The wind brushes past you again, your shoulders bunching up in a vain attempt to keep you warm with too-thin leggings. Suguru’s stolen skirt lifts and he pulls you tighter to his side. Satoru stares down the dock with a tight wound face, glasses slipping down his nose and eyebrows scrunched together with a scowl. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long while. Since Fushiguro, Toji had cut you down. Since that single, echoing shot in the dimly lit tomb’s main chamber.
“Ah…” Satoru switches the weight on his feet, snagging you and Suguru by the fronts of your uniforms and drags you both far to the right. Sand sloshes up in big, cloudy puffs; opaque, turquoise tentacles crash into the spot where your trio once stood, “This could actually be troublesome.”
“Stop being mysterious!” you pop your palm against the side of his head despite knowing his infinity is raised, “What’re you talking about?”
“This curse,” he rolls his eyes with all the annoying arrogance possibly mustered when you and Suguru tilt your heads at his pause, “This curse definitely has one of Sukuna’s fingers.”
“That would explain the loose ofuda,” Suguru notes.
You shiver at the mere idea of the King of Curses aiding your opponent, “How would that even happen?”
“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs and releases the both of you, flexing his fingers of the remaining tension, “We definitely need to take it back though.”
“Definitely,” you nod curtly.
A bulbous head sinks into the moonlight, shiny and smooth and thin, wiry purple webs spread across the surface. The gelatinous skin ripples, entire head jiggling before the turquoise splits and gives way to an eyeball - it bulges wide and the pitch black pupils darts around the surrounding area before settling, shakily onto you, Suguru, and Satoru.
Two big, clawed hands latch onto the back of your uniform top, retching you back. A look up confirms it to be one of Suguru’s more beastly stored curses. Your friend himself stares up at you, “Try and get the eye. Satoru and I will distract the tentacles.”
You nod eagerly, showing off a thumbs up before jamming your arms straight to your sides, “You got it!”
And like the most impressive cartoon clown, you explode out towards the curse. Thrown from Suguru's strong arms ( :D ).
You rip your hands away from your sides and throw them out in front of you, fingers stretching wide as you hurdle towards the fleshy eyeball. Your fingertips are mere inches from grazing the eye, when the pupil turns onto you. A loud crash through sand rings out behind you, two calls of your name, and your heart shoots into your throat.
And the eyeball sinks back with another round of grotesque, rippling skin. You slam into the round head and bounce back off with a freshly punched-out gush of air.
“I got you!” Satoru calls from below, arms out wide to catch you before you could plummet into sand.
“That was such a dirty trick,” you huff, steadying back onto your feet and glaring at the curse. The eyeball peeps out, bumping from the top of its head.
With a teasing hum, Satoru finally tucks his glasses into his pants’ pocket, “It’d be a lot easier if you could just hurry up and learn Domain Expansion.”
“You can’t do it either, Satoru!” Suguru comes to both of your sides.
One of the forefront tentacles flicks up violently, crashing through the unstable, weak wood of the dock. Slats and splinters rain down as the tentacle flies towards your spot on the shore. Satoru and Suguru split from your sides while you remain firm in the sand.
Your arms fly out wide, grinning as you cheer, “Come in for a big hug!” wrapping your arms around the heavy limb, you squeeze and squish your hands down into the fleshy tentacle. The cursed energy of your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother and so on, courses through you in a raging fire. Your nails dig into the curse as you shout once more, “Snip!”
And the tentacle goes limp.
Sliding out from under the weight, you spot Satoru wringing a hand back - some invisible, evolving mass heaving in his palm and drawing the large octopus head forward.
Satoru calls out, “If you wanna swallow this one, you better hurry up and do something, Suguru!”
Rolling his eyes, Suguru watches his Rainbow Dragon untangle, sand flapping out with its tail and tearing up a lonely palm tree. He sweeps you up and seats you in front of him while flying forward on the creature’s back.
“Try and keep it busy for now,” he sets you back down on relatively even sand, “Satoru, make it puke out the finger! I’ll get it from behind!”
“Phrasing!”
You eye the two special grades with a groan, “I’m not a diversion, ya know?!”
But Suguru is already behind and beneath the curse’s line of sight, drawing his own ball of mass into his palm.
And, unfortunately, this pseudo-plan is one you’re already familiar with.
You attack the limbs and divert attention with Satoru as back-up while Suguru condenses and consumes.
But, also unfortunately, this pseudo-plan isn’t usually employed against special grade curses post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger. A special grade (post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger) with the intelligence to avoid your Cursed Technique.
“This isn’t working!” you shout at Satoru after having yet another tentacle shot out of grabbing-range.
He lets one of the remaining tentacles bash close against his infinity, using the force to get to your side.
“Then how ‘bout a change of plans?” Satoru takes no feedback before shooting you up and towards the creature's head, snagging and yanking tentacles to twitch the head upwards.
A gaping, drooly maw is exposed; gnashing, gummy walls in place of teeth. And beneath layers of squishy pink, is a lashing gray tongue. And where there’s a tongue, there must be a stomach.
“Woohoo!” you flail out your arms, squishing between the gums to dig your nails into the creature’s tongue (“The radula!” Shoko would tease, if she were watching). A shaky, ugly groan comes from the creature and it hangs its mouth open, trying to slip you off its organ - the sand is far below. You squeeze tighter when a gush of saliva drips down the tongue - fire rushes through your veins, scorching at your fingertips as you chant, “Snip!”
From above, a loud retch, and the deep purple roof gapes with a single, fleshy finger falling out.
You reach out hurriedly, hands clapping around the cursed object before the sudden effect of gravity takes precedent. The sand begins rushing upward, wind whipping rudely at your hair as the curse above you is sucked into an ugly mauve ball in Suguru’s palm. Not seconds after absorbing the curse, he sends his Rainbow Dragon down after you.
One arm swings around you, pulling you over in front of him, while the other holds the grotesque orb. He holds it less gingerly than you hold Sukuna’s finger, cradling the item to your chest.
“Yay! Thanks, Sugu’,” you lean into his chest, hands still tucked to your chest as you both come back down onto the uneven, pitted sand with scattered, rooted palm trees laying around carelessly.
“Are you hurt?” Suguru scans the skin he can see, “It’s saliva wasn’t venomous, right?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you shrug, “I’ll be okay!”
“And you, Satoru?”
“Don’t worry about me, I just got to be your pretty distraction.”
Suguru nods, turning away all the same to swallow his newest curse.
Satoru comes in front of you, white button up on display with his uniform jacket held out, he nods in the direction of your hands, “Here, we can wrap it in this until we get back.”
Dumping the finger into the center of his jacket, your attention is quickly stolen away by the way Suguru gags around the cursed orb. Satoru cradles the freshly wrapped finger to his chest, settling a hand against his friend’s quivering shoulder. You pat Suguru’s back, leaning your head against his arm as he shudders down the taste, watching his face stretch into a grimace.
But he quickly overcomes it when he notices how you and Satoru are preening over him, clearing his throat and shaking out his tense shoulders.
Another throat clears, further up the shore. A lithe, dainty hand waves, Shoko’s lips grinning around an unlit cigarette - her wave turns into a single finger, pointing up at the clear sky, “None of you put up a veil!”
“Oops…” you pout under the stars, they flicker as if winking just to tease you.
Satoru groans, flinging out his arms in exasperation, already wandering towards Shoko, “It’s nighttime, what does a veil even matter?!”
Suddenly, you perk up, nodding, “Yeah! Exactly!”
Suguru sighs, “Someone’s getting punished for this.”
You take his hand, dragging him through the sand, “Who do you think Yaga will choose?”
“It was her!”
Both Satoru and Suguru point over at you, brows furrowed in determination. Your hands squeeze tighter around your skirt (which you freshly got back from a re-pants Suguru), fists pushing into your thighs as the three of you kneel before Yaga.
Stubbornly, you shake your head, “No way, that’s really not fair! It was on all three of us!” when Yaga maintains his stern, crossed arms, you continue, “Shoko could’ve done it! I didn’t even really notice- “
Yaga unfolds his arms, waving you up into a stand, “You don’t have to give credit to save your friends when you’re who found Sukuna’s finger.”
Once again, you try to refuse, but Suguru beats you to the punch, “She was vital in obtaining the cursed object, we couldn’t have retrieved it without her.”
Satoru nods twice to his friend’s point.
“You can join Ieiri,” Yaga’s brows somehow wrinkle even more, a finger pointing in your face, “You’re free because you found the finger. Don’t forget a veil again.”
“Yes, sir!” you chirp, the back of your uniform collar being tugged upward by Shoko. She’s already dragging you out of your teacher’s (now principal’s) office, but you spare the time to turn and wave to your friends, “Good luck, ‘Toru and Sugu’ - I’ll get nice flowers to send your moms!”
Satoru squirms from where he’s kneeling, hand shooting up as soon as you’re out of the room. He can see it perfectly now, a big red welt on the back of his head and a matching one for Suguru, “Actually, she couldn’t have gotten the finger without us, so maybe this punishment isn’t necessary!”
Suguru glares at his friend, “You can’t undo a good deed like that, it’s embarrassing.”
“I could let you off,” Yaga hums, “But you forget, Gojo, this isn’t your first time refusing to put up a veil.”
“It’s not refusing!” he honestly just forgets sometimes! He swears!
Suguru would hit Satoru himself if he weren’t trying so hard to stay still, “You’re making it worse!”
“I hope they’ll be okay…” you murmur, hugging Shoko’s arm to your chest as the both of you head down the long steps from Jujutsu Tech, “Yaga didn’t seem too mad, right?”
Shoko watches your step down the stairs for you (your stare now focused on a gaggle of birds singing overhead), “We’ll see if white mums are on sale - take that as our omen.”
And when you both see that banana yellow sign in your favorite old lady’s flower shop advertising bundles of white chrysanthemums for only 1,000 yen a piece - you send a prayer to Satoru and Suguru’s souls.
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smoothielenny · 11 months
Text
ʟɪʟʏ ᴘᴀᴅ
Part Three
Ao’nung x Human!Fem!Reader
Summary: You thought he was nice, until he pull out the word ‘freak’ to your dear sister. Guess you were wrong.
Warning: beating, angst, removing the part where Lo’ak is asked to apologize
[one•two•three•four•five•six•seven]
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“I saw you.”
“Shut up.”
Of course, Tsireya would’ve seen Ao’nung with you. She was gathering some crops from near the beach. While walking back home, she noticed you getting bullied by some boys. Her forehead crunched up and so is her lips pursed from the scene. She was about to interfere until she saw her brother arriving instead. She decided to hide and watch him. She followed both of you chuckling at her brother’s nervous expression, smiling at both of you, until Neteyam called you.
“So what if you did?” He rolled his eyes. If he did only could, he would’ve punched his sister’s grinning face.
“I knew you like her~” Her tone on her voice greatly annoyed Ao’nung.
“I told you, it’s not like that.” He rolled his eyes. Of course he doesn’t like you, he was just being…nice? But that don’t make sense, you’re a human, why did he act nice to you? He should’ve just left you being torn down by those skxawng boys, but he didn’t. Now he is left in confusion, don’t know what he actually feel about you. He released a hiss which made Tsireya giggled.
Ao’nung and Tsireya gathered some materials for their father’s hunting night. While on their way, Ao’nung’s eyes caught your figure, playing with Tuk. You put on a makeshift crown on her, she smiles and bounces with it. You also smiles happy seeing your (not-so) little sister happy about it.
Ao’nung hasn’t realize, but his lips is also curled into a smile. Seeing you makes him smile and Tsireya knows that, now that her wide smirk is appearing.
“What now?” Ao’nung scoffed. Tsireya just hit him with ‘nothing’ and continued to walk. Your eyes have caught on the siblings, waving as a hello. Tsireya also waved with a smile, while Ao’nung…he tries to ignore it and walks faster. You frowned a bit, but oh well, he’s probably busy carrying those materials.
Well in reality—“Auuughhh she waved at me.” His mind is softer than his exterior. Thoughts that you would think Ao’nung would never have. Well he does, very well hidden. Not well hidden for Tsireya, she knows how his brother thinks.
Back when they were little, Ao’nung always lets Tsireya about his thoughts such as if he thinks a girl is cute, his opinions, etc. Though as they grew, he stop doing so, but Tsireya still knows when her brother something is in his mind.
Afternoon hits, you and Kiri decided to hangout near the water. While she swims on the shore, you collected more shells for your next project, probably an ear accessories for your mother. You wanted a bit of change to her appearance, since she’s been wearing her dress of accessories, though your sure she’ll only wear the new accessory fora day and go back to her original one.
While picking shells, you saw Ao’nung and his friends gather around Kiri. You thought he came to just say hi, but your enthusiasm died down when you heard the words ‘freak’ from him followed by his sneer. Your heart broke, how could he say such horrible thing?
They start to tug her tail, harassing her. You dropped all the shells you’ve caught and walk to them. Stumping your feet on the sand. Ao’nung’s laugh faded as he saw you going near them. His ears have dropped, oh you saw him at his worst.
He was about to say something, but your brother Neteyam interrupted. Lecturing Ao’nung and his gang. After that, you and your siblings were about to leave until Lo’ak throw a punch at Ao’nung which started a fight. Your sister laughs beside you, while you cover your mouth in shock. Kiri saw you start walking to the fight, she held your arms which you tug away from.
Trying to stop the fight which only caused you to be punch real hard none other than Ao’nung himself. You fell on the wet sand, your white dress being soaked and sand sticking to you, but you didn’t care about that, the pain on your cheeks made you shed tears. This greatly angered your brothers, specially Lo’ak and continues to beat Ao’nung.
Your Father and the Olo’eyktan saw the fight and stopped it immediately. As Jake check on his sons, he saw his little girl beside Kiri crying from pain on her cheek. He quickly kneeled caressing your cheeks then looking back at Ao’nung. With a glare.
“What did I told you?! Not to cause trouble.” Jake exclaimed. Your brothers are being lectured by your father while Kiri is beside you calming your crying state. You felt a slight betrayal from your thoughts, thoughts about Ao’nung. You weren’t mad about him hitting you, you know it’s an accident. But you’re mad that he called your sister a freak, well not just her, but you’re whole family. Your siblings were right, he’s not nice at all.
Your mother carried you, despite you insisting not to, on the way to Tsahik’s hut. Before you even enter, you could here Ronal’s loud voice lecturing Ao’nung. You sighed at the fact that you have to see him now, but your cheek is asking for help. You had no choice. Neytiri entered the hut without any announcement, entering on Ao’nung kneeling down while Ronal is shouting.
“I need your help to heal my daughter.” She said calmly. Ronal look back at her son and hiss then walk to both of you. Your mother then put you down gently and sign you to follow the Tsahik. As you walked past Ao’nung his eyes showed guilt, but you couldn’t care, the damage is made.
You sat in front of Ronal, she applied a paste that would numb the pain, but her hand was rough about it, your crying has started again, whimpering. Ao’nung’s heart sunk hearing you, what have he done.
After a long session, you were instructed to stay in your hut for days until it heals. Your mother sent you outside for a bit and you nodded. After you left, Neytiri look at Ronal and Ao’nung, “I don’t want your itan to be near my ite.”
To be continued…
Tag list: @lili-flower03 @myh3artt @abbersreads @die4niyahhh @julievsworld @bananafruityawne @linlikesyouhihi
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mari-writes · 3 months
Text
Koutarou attends The Nutcracker for his sister, Kai, who's dancing as the Snow Queen. 
This is her second year in the role, but he missed last time, so he’s so excited! He can’t wait to see his big sister dance! 
And then he sees him. 
In the role of the Snow King is a young prodigy named Akaashi Keiji. He’s a year younger than Koutarou, and his sister says Akaashi is “the best dance partner she’s ever had.”
Koutarou is immediately enamored. His eyes follow Akaashi wherever he goes on stage, despite Kai being the focal point of the routine. He’s lean, but obviously so strong, capable of lifting, throwing and catching his sister flawlessly. Effortlessly.
(Also, those tights look so good on him.)
Koutarou pretty much begs his sister to introduce them. “Please! I’ll do anything!” He cries as he unleashes the full force of his pout. “I don’t even care if he’s not available or interested in me! I just want to meet him!”
She finally relents after a week of his hassling. Koutarou attends the show again on closing night. He’s a bit nervous. The Nutcracker has been a huge hit, with critics and audiences alike praising the Snow Queen and King specifically. Akaashi’s name is on everyone’s lips; he's “the next big thing” in the Tokyo dance scene.
“Calm down, Kou,” Kai hisses as she leads him down the hall and towards the theater’s green room. “He’s just a person just like you. Trust me, it’ll be fine.”
Koutarou nods. Swallows. He holds his breath as they finally step into the room.
They find Akaashi casually leaning against the back wall, munching on an apple and swiping through his phone. Koutarou’s eyes roam his form. He’s wearing a cropped, midnight blue hoodie that cuts off at the hem of his black joggers, displaying his slim build. His feet are covered in a pair of beat-up sneakers.
“Keiji dear, do you have a moment?”
Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou sucks in a breath. The man has perhaps the prettiest eyes Koutarou has ever seen. A devastating mix of blue-green-grey, piercing, with heavy lids and long lashes.
Surprisingly, those eyes widen when as they land on Koutarou, and his mouth drops open. “Of course,” he nods, “um, hello.” His voice is like velvet, soft yet with a gravely texture that send a shiver through Koutarou. He also can’t help but notice that Akaashi is a few inches shorter, which forces the man to look up at him as they approach.
Oh my god, he's an actual angel.
Kai pulls her brother forward until the two men are a few paces apart. She squeezes his arm, a gesture she’s been using since they were kids to lend him comfort, encouragement. He leans appreciatively into the warm touch.
“It’s, um, it’s wonderful to finally meet you, Bokuto-san.”
Koutarou blinks, confused. Akaashi is addressing him as if he knows who he is. “Oh! Uh, it’s nice to meet you, too!” He grins sheepishly. “Did Kai tell you I was coming, or..?”
The man shakes his head. Now that they’re so close, Koutarou notices leftover sparkles and flecks of fake snow still clinging to Akaashi’s wavy black hair.
Enchanting. 
“Well, I did know you were her brother… but I didn’t know you would be here tonight.” His eyes narrow at Kai, who chuckles.
“Keiji here is a big fan of volleyball,” she smirks at her brother, who nearly chokes at the new information. "He watched every single one your matches at the last Olympics. Apparently.”
“Really?!” Koutarou can’t believe his ears. Akaashi Keiji, the beautiful man who he’s been obsessing over the last few weeks, is a fan of him, too? It’s a bonafide Christmas miracle!
“Yes,” Akaashi’s lips twitch upward. It’s not quite a smile, but close. “I’ve, ah, been hoping Kai would introduce us someday.”
Koutarou beams. He can’t even be angry at his sister for keeping the secret. He’s just too happy right now. "I'm so glad she did!"
They end up at the closing night after party, sitting side by side in a booth, surrounded by family and friends. Conversation flows easily. Akaashi is rather quiet, but he seems content to just listen to Koutarou talk. He occasionally barks out a dry, sarcastic comment that only enamors Koutarou further.
He also smells nice. Like sandalwood and rose. Koutarou has to restrain himself from taking a big, long whiff.
“Y-you know, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says, words slurring a bit from the whiskey shots he’d just downed. “I actually played a bit volleyball when I was younger.”
Koutarou gasps. “You did?!” 
Akaashi giggles, then hiccups, and it’s the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard. “I did,” Akaashi nods, “but only into middle school. Dance sort of took over my life after that. I’ve continued to follow the sport, though.”
Koutarou is having trouble containing his excitement. He grips his beer with one hand and reaches to grip Akaashi’s forearm lightly with the other. “You have to play with me someday!”
Akaashi snorts (wait, no, that is the cutest thing Koutarou has ever heard) and shakes his head. “I couldn’t possibly keep up with a pro player like you…”
“And I can’t keep up with your dancing,” Koutarou winks. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do that with you sometime. If you want, that is...”
For a brief moment, Akaashi just stares, and Koutarou wonders if he’s being too forward. But then Akaashi’s lips settle into a sweet smile, and he glances down into his drink. His sharp cheekbones bloom with color. “Are you asking me on a date, Bokuto-san?”
Well then. Koutarou hadn’t expected things to progress this quickly, but sometimes, fate has other plans. “I mean,” he clears his throat, “maybe..?”
Akaashi looks up, and Koutarou is suddenly drowning. He swears his sees an entire future in those stormy eyes, just waiting to pull him under. 
(And Koutarou would go, gladly.)
“I would love to,” Akaashi says, leaning forward to clank their glasses together. “Merry Christmas, Bokuto-san.”
//
A short advert ft. The Nutcracker's snow scene 💙❄️
Thank you for reading this sappy little thing I wrote after working a week straight of Nutcracker performances (eight shows in one week; it was insane). If you enjoyed this, PLEASE reblog! It really helps me out, way more than just a like (though I appreciate those, too). You can also share my post on Twitter! Thanks everyone for your support this year. It’s been rough, for many reasons. I hope you all have a happy holiday season. Here’s to 2024! 🥰
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Note
in your earlier ask you said that yves is pretty much anti child so is he also anti pet? or maybe anti puppy/kitten/baby animal? when you described yves pretty much conditioning reader to dislike kids it reminded me when i got my kitten when she was three weeks old. it was during the lockdown so although i was there 24/7 i was lacking sleep because she refused to sleep on her own and i had to feed her every two hours and when she got older she got hyper and i needed to play with her so she could chill out a little more. i remember as i put her to sleep in my lap for the third time i thought to myself “is this what babies are like? but worse, dirtier and for a longer time?” as much as i love my little fur baby i don’t think i could go through that again so i wonder yves’ thoughts on pets. he gives off those vibes that he hates fur everywhere and can’t stand barking lol. but then again if reader wants a pet im assuming he’ll accommodate somehow.
Pets that need his constant attention like most mammals and noisy animals like the majority of birds are a big no for him.
However, he doesn't mind having reptilians as pets. As long as they're big enough to not lose them. He is indifferent to fishes, but he sees them more as home decor than actual living beings. Something akin to owning lava lamps.
He especially likes snakes. It fits with the aesthetic of his house and they're one of the lowest maintenance pets there is. He would meet all of its physical needs, but other than that, he wouldn't care to spend more time with it than necessary. The snake will be locked up in its enclosure at all times, unless you want to interact with it and he knows that your personality wouldn't lead to trouble. He knows everything there is to know about the snake, yet he sees it as a mere display piece for his living room.
Yves despises insects, he uses the presence of them as a sign that the environment isn't clean, and he does not appreciate having to think his house is filthy. No matter how much research he does on them and how many results show that insects do not necessarily equal dirty, Yves just could not accept them.
He is not squeamish, though. Yves despises them but he is not afraid of them, he knows how to handle a tarantula gently and keep calm when it decides to crawl under his turtleneck. If you threw a bucket of cockroaches on him he would not scream or flail, he would dodge it gracefully before dusting himself off. If any got onto him, he will just pick them off his clothes as if they're paper stickers. Yves will not beat around the bush and try to find a roll of newspaper or a bug spray, he is squashing that colony of spiders with his bare hands.
The way he could simply grab a handful of mealworms without hesitation makes the world think he loves bugs. He doesn't, not one bit.
You could simply shove him in a vat full of writhing maggots and he would come out as if he took a leisure swim in the pool, combing his hair with his fingers to get rid of any leftovers.
Yves would be annoyed more than horrified, lecturing you that pushing him into ponds of worms is rude while he jerks his head to expel the ones that are stuck in his ears.
Not to say he is inept at taking care of them. Yves can be an excellent caretaker for any and every animal. His research skills are unbelievably godly and he loathes the idea of him being perceived as incompetent in anything.
Yves also has a strangely high tolerance for all things disgusting and vile, he could clean up the most brutal bloody murder scene complete with mutilated bodies, decomposition, faeces, urine, vomit and other bodily fluids without wearing gloves or a gas mask; and still have an appetite to eat lunch immediately after. Vacuuming fur and sifting through the litter box is nothing to him. He just does not find much fulfillment in owning a pet. Hence, a pet becomes a parasite in his life, and he detests all things vermin.
If you wanted a furry companion so badly, he will hit the books and review the patterns in your life again.
Do you really want a pet or are you actually just bored? If it's the latter, he could effectively fill your time and make you forget about your desire for an animal companion. He could also negotiate his way out of this too.
Are you someone who hyper fixate on something or someone, then lose all interest after a few months? Then, he could wait it out. Taking care of your newest breathing toy as he counts down until you finally decide to abandon it and move on to greener pastures.
Are you someone who easily gives up at the first encounter of a problem? Maybe all it takes for you to drop the interest entirely is a meow that's too loud or a nip that's a bit too painful. He's going to train the animal to misbehave around you.
Are you someone who is susceptible to peer pressure? He is going to train your pet to misbehave around your loved ones. Manipulate your friends and family into thinking that you're an abusive or neglectful pet owner. He doesn't have to say a word to you, everyone is doing the pressuring for him.
Maybe you would fold under his dour glare and stern words, he can be quite scary at times. That generally reduces anyone into a shivering, crying mess that will not bring up the things that displeases him. This is usually the second-last resort to anything.
Perhaps you're a fierce animal lover and have a strong portfolio of being a cat or dog owner. You wouldn't give your beloved four legged friends up for the world, you will fight for them till your very last breath. Someone with unbreakable maternal/paternal instincts towards your precious fur babies. Giving them up is not in the equation.
Well, he is not above traumatizing you for life.
When push comes to shove, you might find your trusted non-human companions betraying you by lacerating your extremities to the point of no repair. Puncturing your throat with its sharp canines and claws, leaving you to breathe on a ventilator while Yves takes care of you in the hospital.
Or he could direct the attack to someone else, make you liable for lasting damages and having to put your seemingly rabid pets down. You would also have to live with the guilt of knowing you're mainly responsible for disfiguring that poor child's face, changing his life for the worse, just because you "didn't" train them well.
He warned you not to test him. Yves has been lenient and his patience has reached its limits. He may love you and want the best for you, but he is also very, very selfish.
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elodieballard · 2 years
Text
because you love her.
jace wayland x fem reader
summary: basically u have no clue how ur love life with jace is going
warnings: clueless clary, lashing out, a little bit of obsession??? jace is a little bit of an idiot (not rude, just ignorant) super off plot of tmi with like one scene you’d know, dorothea is like COMPLETELY ooc (out of character) ooc hodge, slightly ooc clary
i know it sounds boring but i’m just lazy to put anything so lol
also pls excuse the terrible pov pronouns im trying to use second person instead of first for this fic so yeah
AND my only knowledge of tmi is the movie so be kind 🤗🤗
-
you turn another page in your book, daydreaming as your eyes stare at the words on the pages.
jace. jace, jace, jace, jace.
it was all jace, the only thing that clouded your mind. you found it hard to tear yourself away from the thought of him when you imagined what his lips would feel like. would taste like.
it’s been some time now, the amount of time you’ve been in love with jace. i mean, how couldn’t you? he is an angel—and lord you hate to remember how that was actually literal—but he’s kind behind all of his sarcasm.
he’s really attractive. hot. handsome. pretty, even.
scratch that, he’s more than pretty. he is gorgeous.
when you think about rain, you think about jace. you’ve always loved rain, so the two correlate.
reading, too. reading is always a fun and calming thing to do, even if you’re teased for it.
it’s not very common for shadowhunters or demon hunters to be so soft, at least that’s what jace thought.
until he met you. he likes your softness. he liked a little too much, even. he likes that you don’t wear an overly amount of makeup like izzy does.
he likes that you’re comfortable with your own beauty. sure, he knows you aren’t confident, which he doesn’t understand.
he loved all of things before clary came. to you, he was okay with those things. he didn’t care about the reading or the makeup, that’s why he didn’t tease you for it.
but when clary came, things changed. you noticed jace didn’t care much to defend you against alec’s smart comments about reading, and he didn’t even protest when izzy suggested giving you a makeover when it was time to go to magnus’ party.
yesterday, you blinked harshly as izzy’s hair curler left a section in your hair. you were deep in thought as izzy styles your hair, smiling as she brushed some hair out of your face.
“what’s gotten you so worked up?” she said in a tone one talks in after laughing. anyone else would suppose she was being sarcastic, teasing you, even. clary probably would. but you knew izzy for your entire life to know how to read in between the lines.
“i just wish i wasn’t here.” you mumbled, looking to the side.
“with me?” she scrunched your hair a little bit, giving it volume.
“no, i’d love to be in here talking to you about the party and if there would be any cute boys there or even the fucking escape route we’ll have to use once we crash the whole thing.” your voice was getting louder by the moment and izzy knew something was up.
“if you’re worried about miss googly eyed carrie or whatever her name is, i assure you she’ll only be here for a little bit.”
“i’m worried about her, yeah, but not in the way you assume i am.” you mumbled.
“i don’t know why you’d be worried, she’s not going to take your spot in hodge’s eyes.”
as izzy reached for the brush, you crack a smile. you were always hodge’s favorite, so, no, you’d never be worried about it.
“what do you mean ‘googly eyed’?” you asked curiously, pinching yourself in the wrist as you asked the question in regret.
“you didn’t see it? she’s like, totally in love with jace,” izzy smiled and grabbed the curler.
your heart drops to your feet.
“jace seems to like her, too. he’s worried about her all the time, he’s the one who brought her here… it’s love at first sight if you ask me. dontcha think?”
you swallowed. you wanted to cover your ears and scream until izzy shut up, but you couldn’t. “yeah, i do.” you tried to hide the shakiness in your voice.
“they’d be cute together. especially with the height difference. i don’t know if you got a good look at her, but she’s your height. short-”
you tried not to roll your eyes.
izzy sighed before continuing. “and it’s a power couple. she seems innocent. not much like a badass. but we both know jace, on the other hand.”
you forced a laugh. “yeah.”
“now that i think about it, you and clary are similar. really similar, actually. you guys would get along.”
you bit your lip. in this moment, you wanted to tell izzy all about your love for jace, but it wasn’t worth it. there was no point. you swallowed. “maybe, yeah.”
izzy finished with your hair and moved on to makeup. later, you found yourself wearing an extremely short dress and thigh high boots. you had to walk to the party and you walked alongside jace, it was the one time he wasn’t all over clary that day and you just wanted to hear his laugh and to laugh at his jokes.
but now, today, the pages of your favorite book tickles at your fingertips as you stare at the worlds sputtered along them, your brain not registering a simple thing.
“that book must not be very interesting.” you hear from behind you, scaring you out of your daydream.
“jace!” you exclaim.
“really? is that me?” he jokes sarcastically.
you giggle and playfully slap him in the shoulder. “shut up.”
“what book is it?”
“never mind the book, what are you doing in here?”
the blonde lets out a breath, flopping onto your bed. “boredddd.”
you’re taken aback at this. calmly as you can, you say your response carefully so it’s not sarcastic. “where’s clary?”
“what does clary have to do with my boredom?”
you almost laugh at this. “nothing, you’ve just been all over her yesterday and this morning, i thought you guys would be in a closet making out or something.”
jace’s expression drops as he feels his heart stop. his breath hitched. “why are you being like that?”
you close your book. “like what?”
“look, just because i have a heart-”
you immediately lunge forward and feel his chest area where his heart is. you try to pretend that it isn’t beating crazily fast at the distance between the two of your faces.
“not there.”
jace can’t hide his laugh. “yeah, okay. well, just because i have a heart and want to help someone out, doesn’t mean i’m in love with them! and anyway, why is it such a big deal if i were in love with her?”
“is that you admitting that you do?”
“no! answer my fucking question!” he demands.
you swallow, feeling defeated. “it’s not that. she’s taking up all of your time and i literally don’t get to see you anymore.”
you walk to your bookshelf and put your book in. keeping your cool was getting harder and harder by the moment.
“well i’m offering now?” he says, but it sounds like he’s questioning it.
“and then? what about tomorrow?” you put your hair behind your ear, reaching for a gold ring.
“what’s that?” jace gets off of your bed and points to the ring.
“remember when we were kids and you gave me a promise ring that one day we’d get married?” your voice cracks as you place the ring on your finger. “it was sweet at first, but…”
as you pull the ring off your finger, jace is quick to push it back on.
you feel the heat in your cheeks rising, going crazy. you swallow and look into his eyes.
he sighs, removing his hands from yours. “get ready, we’ll leave in a bit. and if you’re so obsessed with clary, i’ll ask her to come. you guys will get along.”
he walks out of the room leaving you blushing and confused.
~ clary is all over you, she thinks you’re the coolest person to ever exist.
“your hair looks really pretty, too.” she says, brushing her fingers through it.
“thanks, izzy curled it last night.” you try to hide the annoyance in your voice.
the cab car was extremely hot. the driver had a passenger in the front seat, so the three of you—jace, clary, you— had undid your appearance runes and you were basically hitch hiking without the driver or the passenger knowing.
jace to the left of you and clary to the right.
if you were being honest, you didn’t want to be sitting next to him after what happened earlier. was he trying to say that he still wanted to marry you after all the years?
“oh, please, stop fighting over me, girls!” jace jokes sarcastically. clary cracks up, but for once, you don’t laugh at his joke. he notices this and raises an eyebrow.
“so, clary, where’s your mundane friend?” you ask curiously, starting to think you were wrong about her at first.
“oh, he’s with izzy. she said she’ll take care of him while we go out.” clary looks out the window, admiring the city.
“right.” you turn to your left to find that jace was already staring at you, his gaze low at the hem of your dress.
you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like the way you looked and felt in the dress and makeup you wore yesterday. you decided that before you headed back to the institute, you and izzy could go shopping. you found a ton of short dresses you bought without even trying on, of course.
“what’s up?” you say, staring at jace, his eyes dancing along the hem.
he shoot’s his head up, caught in the act. you smile to yourself. “you’re wearing makeup, aren’t you?”
you bite back a grin. “izzy gave me a bit, she said it looked pretty on me.”
jace doesn’t seem amused. “i think you look better without it.”
you don’t know if that’s a compliment, but you find yourself with a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watch the scenery outside of clary’s window.
“where are we going, by the way?” clary whispers.
“shit.” jace gasps as he grabs your hand, making you instinctively grab clary’s. he opens the door on his side and the driver stops the car, going to see why the door opened and you start running.
you and clary are cracking up at how concentrated jace is as he turns the corner.
“where are we going?!?” you repeat clary’s question from earlier as you start going down a hill.
“hodge used to take us there,” he turns to face you, who has no clue where he plans on going. you raise an eyebrow with crossed arms. “don’t start with the ‘oh, he used to take us everywhere!’ shit, we went a few times every week.”
you smile. you never realized how much of a father hodge acted as, your parents had died in a battle against vampires, and jace’s parents— no one really knew much about.
“i don’t know!” you squeal.
jace squeezes your hand a little tighter and angrily pushes past a crowd of people who jump at the feeling of being pushed but nothing to be pushed by. after blushing over this, you turn to clary who shrugs at jace’s random anger.
“are we going to see dorothea?” you gasp when you realize and jace giggles.
“dorothea?” clary asks, a little alarmed. “that’s my neighbor!”
“you live next to dorothea?” jace asks after turning around to face clary.
you see tension. you can practically feel it. it makes you sick to your stomach. clary’s going to take this moment to bond with jace, when you and him have been coming here since you were little.
“s-she’s— yes.” clary struggles, looking down at her feet.
“she’s yes?” jace laughs at her own joke. you force a laugh to get out of the rearview.
“i knew i recognized this street,” clary whispers to you as you turn the corner.
“okay.” you don’t even want to talk to her anymore. sure, it wasn’t her fault that she lives next to dorothea, but it was almost completely obvious she got nervous when jace got a little too close to her. you clear your throat. “jace, we’re here.”
jace was staring at the ground and he picks his head up without saying anything and turns back to you and clary.
“have you got a key?” he asks clary.
clary is still bright red as she nods, but she puts her hand under the mat on the porch and puts it through the keyhole.
“after you.” jace smiles brightly as he opens the door for you and clary.
you go in before her, jace takes notice to how you cut her off to get in front.
once the three of you are inside, you start to look around. it’s like a regular apartment building, budget was probably sixty thousand on the minimum interior decorating.
jace walks over to the first door on the first floor and knocks.
“shoo, put my mail at the door of my door!” you hear from inside. you look at jace and smile, who smiles back. this gives you major butterflies.
jace knocks again.
“disobeying bastards!” you hear dorothea yell from inside before the door opens and you get a clear view of her. she didn’t age, she was already really old. she looked the same.
“oh my lord!” she exclaims before extending her arms to jace and pulling him in a hug. jace doesn’t really appreciate physical touch that isn’t formed by him, but he accepts it because it’s dorothea. “jace, boy, you’ve gotten so big!”
she turns to you and extends her arms. “and hello, y/n… you’re still small and fragile…”
she chuckles to herself, but you can’t help but feel a little offended.
jace knows how you feel about this, so he rubs your back comfortingly.
“and clary…” she looks at her unamused and then opens the door completely so you all can walk in.
her place has remained the same over the years. not a single book, even, has moved.
you linger closer to jace as you tour her one-bedroom which seems to make him uncomfortable. like you’re following him.
dorothea smiles as she takes a seat at her table. “jace, y/n, come sit.”
you and jace look at each other. then you follow him to the table she’s sitting at as clary explores the room.
“oh, i can’t believe how long it’s been…” she says, looking teary eyed.
“twelve years.” you say, trying not to make it obvious you’re uncomfortable. the situation is awkward.
dorothea stares at you blankly. “you look so beautiful, dear.”
“uh, thanks… izzy let me borrow some makeup.”
if you were being honest, jace looked pissed. it was stupid he thought he could control how you lived.
“she still looks beautiful without it.” he says, facing dorothea. he doesn’t even shoot a second glance towards you.
your cheeks grow red rapidly, and you try not to smile. “thanks.”
jace crosses his arms.
dorothea smiles wildly at the two of you. “you two still plan on getting married? you’re together, right?”
you and jace look at each other and clary stops. she wants to see what he says.
then jace’s gaze moves to your ring and you feel like you’re about to explode.
jace then turns to dorothea. “maybe. i don’t know.”
you look to the side and jace doesn’t shoot a second glance to you.
is that why he gave you the ring? he still wants to marry you? like he did as a little boy?
“that’s wonderful, your babies would be beautiful you know?” dorothea clasps her hands and stands up. “well unfortunately you came at a bad time. i was just getting ready for bed, but don’t let that stop you. feel free to loiter, i suppose. i really did miss you children. and it was nice to see you, clary.”
she really doesn’t care about clary though, which makes you feel happy for some reason. like you won.
“y/n, you sure you don’t want to go home and go to bed?” jace asks with a smirk.
“shut up, jace. you never used to tease me about that. you always defended me for it.” you don’t know why you said it, but once it was out of your mouth, you felt you spoke the truth. you just wish it wasn’t in front of dorothea.
“i’m just joking,” jace laughs and clary is cracking up from beside you.
you have to finish what you started. “joking? but isn’t that what alec and izzy did? hell, even magnus!”
dorothea realized she wasn’t welcome in this argument and had made her way to the other room for bed. you shoot a glance at jace that says ‘bring this outside’ but not in a friendly manner.
jace grabs your hand and rushes you outside, leaving clary standing there, confused.
“you NEED to stop, okay?” jace spits, holding you by the shoulders.
“i’m sorry, are you angry i’m finally standing up to you and your obsession with clary?” as you said this, you kept getting up in his face. this didn’t please him in the slightest. he didn’t want to want to kiss you ask you SCREAMED at him.
“stand up for yourself some other fucking time! right now, we just came to see dorothea— i just BROUGHT you to see dorothea and you’re being an ungrateful fucking brat, you know that?”
you shouldn’t. you shouldn’t be blushing at his words. they’re not coming out in the sense you would blush at them, so why are you?
“jace..” you feel every wall within you fall. every hope and dream is shattered. “i’m done waiting for you.”
“waiting for me? waiting for me to do what?” his tone immediately dropped asks he felt his heart shatter.
your gaze is followed by jace’s when you look down at your hand and slowly slip the promise ring off of your finger. “i’m done waiting.”
you try to walk away, so he doesn’t see you cry, but he grabs you. he pulls you back in front of him and immediately attaches his lips to yours. you melt into the kiss as soon as he does it, your hands going around his neck while his travel to your waist. it was perfect. this was perfect.
after a good long moment, you come up for air, the first to pull away. you entangle your fingers in his hair and push your forehead onto his. “jace… you can’t.”
another part in jace shatters, but he doesn’t know what it is. “i can’t? i can’t what?”
you can’t help but look at his lips. pink already, and you’d only kissed for a good twenty seconds. you wonder if yours are like that. “we can’t do this. us.”
“what? why not?”
“because you love her.” you look towards the house, to dorothea’s room where clary was watching you through the window.
he chuckles and kisses you on the lips again, this time for longer. when he pulls away, he cups your face with his hand. “just you. only you. always you.”
which makes your heart explode. that was something you said to each other all the time as kids, and you can’t believe he remembered it.
“i’ve always loved you, y/n. did you think my promise ring was some kind of joke?”
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cryonme · 2 years
Text
𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱)
—Conrad Fisher x fem!reader
—summary: you need him like water, he thinks that you're alright. based on complex (demo) by katie gregson-macleod
—word count: 1.6k
— tw: very brief smut ( minors…. stop right there! ), mentions of blood and suicide (nothing actually violent or gory just mentions of it), lots of self deprecation, depression, swearing, alcohol. angst angst angst hurt with no comfort
a/n: ummm... sorry in advance for this, this one hurts lol. also… probably the first n last time i write any kind of smut lol.
song lyrics for reference:
I’m 21 The edge is razor thin Between being numb And feeling everything Good days only serve as relief again
Now I’m watching as I waste away my days And then It’s a cross dissolve It’s a scene I’ve played before And the leading role that I thought I’d hold Doesn’t listen to me anymore
But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life
I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light
I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night
I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy
But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex
Triangular I can see them now Three points at which I let myself down I was just a girl What’s the excuse now?
Too regular This pattern I’ve been taking shelter in Reaching new highs When I was 19 I wanted to die
Now I just want to kill you But I don’t want to paint you the victim And I talk a good game I’d die for you just the promise you’d listen
But I’m wearing his boxers I’m being a good wife We won’t be together But maybe the next life
I need him like water He lives on a landslide I cry in his bathroom He turns off the big light
I’m being the cool girl I’m keeping it so tight I carry home while My friends have a good night
I need him like water He thinks that I’m alright I’m not feeling human I think he’s a good guy
But it’s complex It’s a complex It’s a complex I’m a complex
Tumblr media
You were beginning to feel normal again.
Whatever sadness your brain had plagued your body with that kept you chained to your room had begun to heal, and you felt like you could see again. No thick fog of heaviness that kept you from seeing your hands outstretched in front of your face.
You were smiling.
Your friends had noticed too, they saw the lightness that followed you when you actually made small talk when you ventured into the kitchen instead of desperately trying to bury yourself as deep into your hoodie and hold your blanket as tightly as possible around you.
You went out for drinks with your roommates and friends. You ordered an appetizer and you ate it. You made eye contact with the waitress and thanked her genuinely as she collected your menu. You laughed about old stories and gasped and reacted accordingly to the new ones hitting your ears.
You were fucking normal again.
But, one thing you learned as you got to know yourself, is nothing ever lasted for you. 
The only thing that stuck around and made itself constant was Conrad Fisher.
That gorgeous, wicked grin of a man.
He had you wrapped around his finger and he knew it, he fucking knew it. He knew how you loved him so desperately that it made you feel small, pathetic. Nothing but a small fly sat on the rubber of his shoe.
But if you were to be anything to Conrad Fisher, you’d settle for a fly. Because at least you could stay close to him.
Conrad: can you come get me
You wanted to scream. 
You wanted to scream and cry until you ripped your own hair from the scalp and you wanted to flip over this table and smash every glass and plate in the restaurant, making everyone around you bloody and bruised but you wouldn’t care because at least you wouldn’t be alone.
You: I’m busy.
You shoved your phone in your pocket and tried to breathe. You tried to focus on your friends in front of you, your friends who love you so much and had been there through every unbearable second of the past few months. The friends who loved you through the hard times when Conrad was absent. Your friend caught your eye and her smile faltered.
She knew that look.
That was the “Conrad Fisher just texted me and he needs me and for some reason, no matter how badly I don’t want to, I have to go” look. 
Conrad: please.
And so you did. 
You told everyone you had a headache, something in your cocktail just wasn’t right and it was making you queasy. They all nodded and begged you not to apologize but they shared knowing looks with each other once your presence was absent from the table. They discussed how they weren’t angry, just simply so worried for what this was going to look like when Conrad Fisher decided to throw you out.
Conrad texted you the information of the bar he was at. He had one too many and he couldn’t walk home alone, nor did any of his friends want to leave just yet.
“Hey, baby.” Conrad greeted you as he unwound his arm from around a girl you didn’t recognize, and slung it around you. “Y’look pretty.”
His words were slurring and his eyelids were slumped and his grin was lopsided but god, the ache in your chest only worsened because he was just so beautiful.
You knew his friends probably made fun of you when you weren’t around. Probably talked about how lucky Conrad was that he had a girl so completely enthralled in him that she didn’t care if she embarrassed herself by continuing to show up for him even though he never returned the favor. 
“Conrad’s got a girlfriend with no strings attached.” You’d heard one of them say once.
Conrad had been there. He just simply laughed and shook his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and saying, “We’re just really close, that’s all.” And you’d smile and nod, words of thanks leaving your mouth when his friends told you how cool you were.
That motherfucker. He knows it isn’t true.
“Yeah. I was with friends.” You said, politely smiling and bidding hellos/ goodbyes to all of his friends as you began to turn, making your way out of the bar with Conrad’s bodyweight clinging to you like a weighted blanket.
But at least you were holding him.
Conrad didn’t respond. He just continued to stumble down the street.
You knew the way to his apartment perfectly, having been to this bar then back to his apartment multiple times, and it was only a couple of blocks. So you trudged on, trying as hard as you could not to think about the fact you were carrying him home while your friends had a good night.
Conrad’s lips on yours was something that felt so beautiful yet so deeply hideous. Like sipping on a delicious cocktail full of liquor and sugar, not caring about the headache and nausea it was going to greet you with in the morning.
You were drunk on him. Completely wasted, but you didn’t care because how could you even think about tomorrow when he was pressed up against you like this?
“Need to hear your words, baby.” He breathed against your skin, pressing hot kisses down the scape of your neck.
“Please.” The word slipped from your lips like a plea, your voice cracking pathetically because, god, you needed him so badly. You needed him like water to your tongue and air to your lungs.
“Good girl.” Conrad praised before he slipped inside of you and you cried out, a sinful moan spilling past your lips and drenching Conrad in pride. He loved the way he made you feel, the pretty noises he elicited from your throat because he knew the exact spots and movements that turned you into a mess around him and he loved it.
And when it was over he’d gently pull you into his bathroom, he’d coo at the whimpers leaving your throat from the sensitivity as he cleaned you up. He’d bring you a pair of boxers and a tee shirt to wear, then he’d turn off the lights and crawl into his bed with his back facing you, not even uttering a simple “Goodnight.”
You’d cry in his bathroom once you could hear his breaths deepen and once you’d start you could hardly stop. Terrible gasps and sobs would fill the dark bathroom as you released every emotion you felt towards Conrad Fisher. Anger, sadness, regret, love, absolute fucking devotion.
You would wake up on the bathroom floor from the small light from the crack of the curtains spilling into the room and you’d slip into bed before Conrad woke up. 
You would arise when he did and you’d smile when he rasped out “Good morning.” 
You’d start a pot of coffee and you’d make him his own, just the way he likes it. You’d leave it on the counter for him as you gathered your things, discarding his boxers and tee shirt into the laundry basket and you’d slowly slip on your outfit from the night before, knowing you’d have to endure judgemental stares and giggles from people passing by you on the straight because of the very obvious walk of shame you were trekking.
He wouldn’t offer to drive you home, why would he?
“Why are you sulking?” He asked from his position in bed, scrolling through his phone.
He went off script.
“I’m not sulking.”
“Why’d you sleep on the bathroom floor then?”
You froze.
“Excuse me?”
Conrad rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know you slept on the bathroom floor.”
You were panicking trying as hard as you could to muster up words, some kind of excuse, anything else besides the words that were about to come out of your mouth.
“I wanted to.”
Conrad raised his eyebrows. He didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t, it was a dumb excuse. A dumb excuse that made you want to face palm yourself as hard as you could, hopefully knocking some sense into you.
“You wanted to?”
“I wanted to.”
“Okay.”
You went home without another word, he didn’t even walk you to the door because why the fuck would he? This meant nothing to him.
You meant nothing to him.
You were slipping again, just as quickly as you began to mend, your wounds began to reopen. Nasty, stinging, hideous wounds that invisibly decorated your body began to split, and you were nothing but empty and embarrassed. No longer human, only the broken and stained shell of the girl you once were.
All this pain, over a stupid boy.
A stupid boy that you were now sat next to, in a bar with all your mutual friends, being the cool girl once again. 
He had that stupid fucking charming smile plastered on his face and you wanted to kill him. God, you wanted to fuck him then kill him over and over again until your skin was tinted red and your lips were bruised. 
You never would.
Of course you wouldn’t.
Why would you want to when there was always the sliver of a chance that he’d text you, “I need you”.
It would forever be complex, the way you loved Conrad Fisher and the way he loved to keep you around. Maybe, somewhere deep down he loved you too but didn’t know how to show it. But, the possibility of him just loving your convenience and eager willingness to spread your legs for him, and only him, was much more believable.
A complex.
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like i said….. so sorry.
tags| @iluvt4ylorswift @colbysbrocks @prettysummerbaby @gillybear17 @tessastle @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @lilygreennn @allise4 @heyimadison @liltimmys @slut4fictionalcharacters
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vivaladicamillo · 11 months
Note
Okay so I don’t know why but I’m just so fixated this idea? I can imagine a female reader, being the first and only girl in the jackass crew and also being apart of wildboyz. Her, Chris, & Steve-O are all attached at the hips obviously and maybe one day after filming for Wildboyz they all go back to the hotel and clean up, have a big smoke sess and it just leads to these two tag teaming her while there all high as hell? (Which btw I feel like it’s very much a common occurrence 🤭 especially if they’re in like a poly relationship)
STEVEO/READER/CHRIS PONTIUS IMAGINE
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im literally so obsessed with this idea, know that chris and steve-o were so close anyways it always makes me giggle. sorry i didnt get to do this sooner i have had a kidney stone and have been super sick bc of it, welp enjoy!! this is also my first ever like actual written out smut so sorry if its absolute shit but i have the writing skills of a idiot so….
WARNINGS: cursing, drinking, talks of drugs and alcohol, and smut
—————————————
ok so u, steve-o and chris have always been pretty close
yall all met through the first season of jackass
u were good friends with steph so she invited u to go watch her and the guys do stupid shit
and ofc u wanted to participate
so u go onto set looking around for her
instead u see two half naked men just chillin, standing around
after some first awkward glances u meet with steph and watch everything unfold
everyone was in the middle of a type of field with a huge loop that ppl were trying to ride with skate boards and bikes and shit
it was actually super cool
after a few hours of filming in the hot sun u pretty much were beat
u walk over to ur friend to tell her u think ur gonna head out for today
but little do u know the two guys from earlier are also friends with steph
so the four of yall get to talking
and u learn that the one man whos tan, in pretty good shape and is now wearing bunny ears and a flower bra is chris pontius, and the other bald man wearing a cheetah speedo is steve-o
they both invited u to join them to get ihop after the shoot
and just like that a trio was born
the three of u were always together
either just chillin, partying, or filming
u guys were never apart
u were the only one out of the three who actually had an apartment
so the two mostly (basically) lived at ur house
after the seasons of jackass ended steve-o and chris ended up doing a spin off called “wildboyz”
obviously u were still gonna be with them
u do hella cameos in wildboyz
u do all the shit that the guys are too pussy to do
swimming with alligators, sharks, bears rlly anything
also when steveo didnt wanna jump off the bridge with wings on, u def did
so lets set the scene
after doing some filming in australia, the crew and u three decide to go out on the town in melborne
just doing some bar hopping
eventually the crew gets tired and drunk and go off back to the hotel room
not the three american idiots tho
u steveo and pontius are just having a grand ol’ time drinking, goofing around and just having fun
it seems awesome
until pontius ends up fist fighting with some random guys which leads to steveo also getting involved
that gets everyone kicked out the bar
after some mumbling and complaining from the two u bring up a solution
“hey lets just go back to my room, i brought some weed we could go smoke or something..”
it was a absolute yes
who says no to weed?
the three of u go back to ur hotel room and smoke 2 whole joints together
yall were HIGHHHHH
the three of u guys were just in a cluster on the cheap ass hotel rug, giggling and cracking jokes till way into the night
the thing is, when ur high, u tend to get a little touchy
so little touches on chris’ chest while laughing here and accidently touching steveos thigh there
totally innocent touches
things start to get a little intense tho
longer eye contact from chris, steve-o trying to make u laugh more
and just like that steve-o has u in a bear hug, ur back to his chest while chris is next to u guys
after u calm urself down from having a giggle attack
u look over at chris
“have i ever told u, u have a pretty face y/n” chris says
u kinda had to stop in ur tracks a bit, only bc ur surprised
“yea, ur right chris, i also never say how good u smell dude, its like heavenly” steveo chimes in
u start to get a little nervous
yea u thought ur two friends were super hot but u werent gonna tell THEM that
“yea its probably because i actually shower, unlike u two” u giggle trying to ease the tension
“im serious y/n, ur actually gorgeous, ive just never told u like out loud in person before” chris says
ur face starts to turn bright red
“guys wha-“
“aweee chris ur making them blush” steve-o chuckles
at this point ur beat red, and a little sweaty
ur just baffled bc u know all abt the type of ppl chris and steve-o go for, you the last person u would ever think they would even come close to saying that stuff too
“hey, lets put a proposal on the table” steveo says, snaking his hand around ur waist
“its been a hell of a night, why dont we end this shit off right, chris? y/n? u down?”
“LIKE SEX?” u blurt out in ur intoxicated state causing the two guys to burst out laughing
“yes y/n, like sex” chris says
welp who knew this was gonna happen
ur two best friends wanting to fuck u??? like what?? how did this happen
i mean u were already in steveos lap, having his hand wrap around ur waist as his head rests on ur shoulder and chris on the opposite side of u playing with ur hair, curling it in between his fingers
“fuck it” u say, turning to chris
chris leans in and starts kissing u
eh well not kissing
more like very drunkly making out
steve-o starts kissing and licking on ur neck
all this is making ur face bright red
and tbh making u hella turned on
u eventually crawl out of steveos lap straddling chris
he runs his hand up ur shirt and up the small of ur back, steveo then helps chris take off ur shirt and ur bra
steveo then starts massaging ur breasts while whispering sweet nothings into ur ear
u pull away from the two
“guys i really think we shouldnt do this on the gross ass hotel room floor, the room comes with a bed for a reason” you say
the two look at eachother then look at u and nod
chris throws u over his shoulder while steveo runs ahead and plops down on the bed
chris then puts u on the bed, leaving u in ur jean shorts from ur guys night on the town
chris then unzips ur shorts and looks up at ur for permission
u nod and he starts kissing down ur stomach, taking off ur jeans and panties as he does
chris starts to eat u out while u push ur back into steve-o
u go to tangle ur fingers into chris’ hair
steveo quickly takes ur wrists into one hand
“awee come one sweetheart ur giving him all the attention” he chuckles
u turn to him, not even able to make out a word bc of how good chris is doing
who knew that he could eat pussy like THAT
u lock lips with steveo and u both moan into the the kiss
chris pulls away from u
he gets up and crawls onto the bed with u and steveo
damn good thing u got a king bed with ur room
u turn to straddle steveo, grinding against him as u do causing u both to groan
u pull away helping steve-o get his pants off
u look over at chris and hes already intensely watching u too, dick in hand
bc thats just how he rolls
u take steve-os cock out of his boxers, lick up his shaft then get on top of him
u put his tip at ur entrance and slowly sink down onto him
u both moan at the feeling
as u start to ride him, u turn to chris once again and hes slowly stroking his dick, once u really get a look at it u realize how big he is
“hm what? u like what u see sweetheart?” chris mumbles in between moans
u nod, still riding steveo, feeling urself slowly creep towards release
steveo then pulls u off him
“i feel like this isnt fair, i shouldnt have to keep ur gorgeous body all to myself, thats just selfish.” he beckons chris over
“turn around” steve-o says
u do as he says, chris now on the bed in front of you
“whats wrong darling? u look like u want something, dont be shy” chris says caressing ur cheek to make u look him in his eyes
god u couldnt get enough of his big beautiful eyes
“yes..” u say lowly
“what was that? i cant hear u?”
“yes chris, please.” u say glancing down at his dick
while this is all happening steve-o is just groping ur ass
“ohh u wanna suck me off dont u?” he rubs his thumb across ur bottom lip “ofc u can, anything for u”
u lean down to his dick, putting it in ur hand and giving it small licks here and there
as ur ass is up in the air, right in front of steveos face, he pushes himself back into u, fucking u from behind
u start to take all of chris into ur mouth, moaning as u feel steveos hand reach for ur clit
the room was just filled with moans, groans, and the sound of skin slapping, steve-o and chris just making intense eye contact the whole time
“ah fuck y/n just like that” chris mumbles as u take his whole length down ur throat, gagging
steveos thrusts start to speed up quicker and u feel like ur going to cum and minute now
u pull off chris’ dick with a pop, jerking him off in place of ur mouth
“shit, im-“
u dont get to finish ur sentence before u feel urself cum all over steveos cock
steveos fucks u through ur high, pulls out and cums on ur back
then a few minutes later chris came onto ur face
after the three of u have calmed down from ur highs, chris gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom to clean u guys up
well mainly u
after u three all get into bed and fall asleep, u cuddling into chris’ chest and steveo spooning u from behind
“man we should do that more often” steveo says
and u guys sure did
after that night u three all kinda agreed to be a thing, u recommend a poly relationship which they didnt know much about but were completely down for
they both are in love with u (and lowkey eachother) so it was a win for everyone involved
———————————————————
ok hope yall enjoyed! as u can tell i cant take smut srsly at all ive never rlly written smut before at this detail level so i just kinda went with it, hope its not too bad. im also way to lazy atm to read over this for mistakes so ima just got with it, please keep recommending stuff for me to write! its very fun!
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Chenford + why did you date Ashley?
This was fun to write. This is Tim and Lucy dating and also one of my headcanon of what kind of date they would be going on. I hope you like this.
Love will take you high and we'll be sitting on top of the world
“There you are,” Tim heard Lucy and turned around to the sound of her voice, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
They were standing in the bullpen, most people were on patrol so there weren’t many people there.
Tim’s face instantly softened as he saw her and he smiled at her. He rested his hands on his duty belt, he went on patrol day to make sure he was first at the scene whenever they got close to the man they were looking for with Metro.
“Hey, what’s up?” he said in greeting.
“I just came here to tell you that you have to keep your evening open,” she said with an excited smile. She was ready to surprise him big time.
“You know I can’t,” he explained with a frown, “There’s a game on tonight.”
“Will you please come with me?” she gave him a smile and rested her hand on his arm, “I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Tim sighed, knowing very well he can’t say no to her. He shook his head in resignation.
“Fine but it better be good,” he looked stern at her but he softened once he saw her smile widen.
“Isn’t that always the case with me?” she said smugly.
“Shouldn’t be going back to work?” he changed the subject. He didn’t want to admit she was right.
“I see what you’re doing but I’ll prove myself right tonight,” she said excitedly and then left to go back on patrol with Aaron.
Tim looked back at her smiling until she was out of sight. How did he get so lucky with her? He spent the rest of the day wondering what she had in store tonight, he was curious to finally find out.
***
“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Lucy said as she waited in the kitchen, practically jumping up and down in excitement.
Tim emerged from the bathroom where he was picking out clothes to wear and said in exasperation: “It’d go a lot quicker if I knew where we were going so I could know what to wear.”
“Just put on a comfy shirt, you’ll know more once we’re in the car,” she said as she handed him a shirt, “Now, put it on so we can go. We'll be late.”
“I don’t like this,” he said as he sat in the passenger seat while she took her seat behind the wheel in her car.
She gave him a beaming smile and asked: “Which part? That you’re not the one driving or that we’re going somewhere you don’t know because you hate surprises.”
“No, that we’re driving in your car,” he deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes in answer and started up the car. He shook his head in disbelief but he couldn’t hide his smile. He liked how excited she was, it was worth not knowing the surprise and missing the game tonight.
***
After a short drive, Lucy parked and said: “We’re here.”
He looked around, seeing nothing but street lights and houses. He turned around to look at her with a questioning look on his face.
“Where exactly are we?” he glared at her, not getting where this is going.
“Here’s our stop to change and then we’ll walk to where we actually need to be,” she explained, still smiling from ear to ear.
He frowned at her but she ignored his look and reached in the back of her car for a gym bag. She took out a few pieces of clothing. Tim stayed silent as he looked curiously at what she was doing.
She handed him a shirt and after a quick look, his eyes widened. He looked at her with the biggest smile she’s ever seen on him.
“Are you serious?” he asked, clear joy in his voice. Holding his Dodgers shirt in his hands.
When he looked up at Lucy to say thank you, she was already wearing her own Dodgers shirt and a Dodgers baseball cap.
“You got your own Dodgers gear?” he asked in disbelief.
“With the amount of games we watched together, I thought it was about time to get some,” she smiled and took one of his hands in hers.
Tim smiled shyly at her and leaned in to kiss her. Their lips touch lightly. They pulled away quickly, remembering they needed to get going to make it in time before the game starts.
“You’re amazing, thank you,” Tim said and gave her a peck on the lips, smiling at her while he put on his Dodgers shirt.
“You’re very welcome,” she said smugly, “I just thought it’d be nice to watch an actual game for a date instead of constantly watching games together. I thought it’d be more fun.”
He smiled at her in answer and held out his hand for her to take. 
“Let’s get going, the game is about to start.”
***
They walked hand in hand to the stadium and soon enough, they got to their seats. While Tim was anxiously waiting for the game to start, Lucy went to get snacks for both of them.
He looked around the crowd and the field in wonder. He never thought he’d do this with anyone he was dating. He always seemed to be the only one who was ever interested in sports.
He didn’t mind doing this alone or with some friends but now that he knew what it was like to be with someone who enjoyed doing what he likes. He liked the feeling a lot. Sharing his interests with someone felt amazing, he didn’t want to lose it. It gave him a strange feeling of exhilaration.
Lucy quickly returned with the snacks. She handed them to him and he gave her a hug and held her tight to thank her again for doing this.
A few hours later and the game was almost over and it’s a close call. Brasier was at the pitch and the team could only win with a homerun. 
Lucy saw Tim clenching his fists in anticipation for the throw. He was so into the game, he didn’t notice anything else. 
“Come on, you can do this,” he yelled along with other fans and started hollering.
She always liked seeing him being so into the game, he didn’t hold back anything when he was watching a game. It was rare and she enjoyed all the rare moments he was willing to give her.
She took his hand and squeezed in support and he gave her an appreciative smile. He squeezed her hand tightly, holding his breath for the next move.
Once the player started running, his voice became louder and louder and then in the last seconds, he made the homerun and Tim jumped up from his seat and cheered, taking Lucy with him.
He smiled in apology when he noticed what he did but all she could do was smile. She was happy to have arranged this. It was the best date ever.
***
Once they got back to her apartment, they sat down on the couch. Her head was resting on his shoulder while his hand rested on her thigh, rubbing small circles in it.
“Thank you for tonight. It was an amazing date,” he said as he looked at her with a tender look.
“Would you say it’s the best date you ever had?” she teased, looking at him.
“It is,” he said seriously, no teasing heard in his voice.
Her breath hitched as she heard how serious he was. She really didn’t expect that answer but it pleased her greatly that he said that. 
She didn’t want to show him her surprise and continued teasing: “What? Were all your dates that horrible before? Going to a game together wasn’t all that.”
He sighed, looking away but said: “It’s just I’ve never gone to a baseball game with Isabel or any one else I’ve dated before.”
She sat upright in surprise and said: “Really? Not even with Ashley.”
He raised his eyebrows, she should know that was something that would never happen between them. She knew all too well how different they were.
“I’ve never really shared any interest with her, she wanted to try out seafood restaurants and go swimming in the newest pools,” he said as he shrugged nonchalantly.
“That’s not you,” she said and paused for a minute, “I’ve never asked but Tim, why did you date Ashley if you didn’t have anything in common?”
“I guess it was just easy, she was there and we had fun the day we met. After that, I just went along with the flow,” he said absentmindedly, thinking about the time he was with Ashley.
She looked at him to find something but she didn’t know what.
“You thought you wouldn’t find anything better so you settled because you didn’t want to be alone anymore. Even if it’s not what you imagined, at least you had someone,” she said, analyzing his reaction.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, trying to avoid the subject. She hit the nail on the head and he didn’t want her to figure out more of the truth so he went to stand up.
She stopped him by putting a hand on her arm and turning him around. She looked up at him and frowned: “There’s more to it, isn’t there?”
“I guess…” he paused and then decided to just let it out, “It was also because I tried to bury my feelings for you. I didn’t think we had a chance.”
She rested her hands on his cheeks and rubbed circles on them with her thumb. She looked him in the eyes and said: “Tim, listen. You don’t have to settle anymore, you deserve to get everything you want.”
“And I will, with you,” his smile finally returned and she was relieved he wasn’t upset anymore.
He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. She returned the kiss without hesitation, their lips moving together in sync. The kiss was getting intenser and Tim backed up to her bedroom, taking her along with him. Their lips never leave each other.
“Right now, I just want you,” he said in a husky voice.
All she did was kiss him again and push him into her bedroom, the door closing behind them.
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newtonsheffield · 1 year
Note
I don’t know if you’ve ever watched Love Island but on the current UK season there is a sheep farmer that has fallen in love with an Australian influencer. It’s almost as if modern bruises has come to life. Farmer Will has a very popular tik tok. Every time they’re on screen I think about modern bruises, which is great but also makes me want to just constantly read bruises lol.
Okay but sheep farmer Anthony literally cannot believe he went on a dating app and met Kate. He really has to hand it to Daphne and Colin: they truly outdid themselves.
Kate who's kind of a big deal? She doesn't think she is, obviously, she's just going about her life but she's been in British Vogue. Not on the cover I was just like... I met Edward Enninful and yeah... kind of ended up there.
And he was nervous about their first interaction, nervous that she'd all of a sudden stop wanting to talk to him as they both lay awake at night.
"I um- I really like your voice." He said one day, his arm cushioning his head on his pillow. "Sorry, is that...? Is that weird to say?"
"No." Kate hummed, the sound fluttering in his chest, "I like your voice too. It's... okay it's really sexy."
"Sexy?" Anthony chuckled, "You know you're talking to Anthony right? He's a sheep farmer, wears a lot of wellingtons and chunky knit sweaters."
"Okay see, you've been out of the dating scene for a little while," Kate sighed, "And that's actually very sexy. Like you could carry me through a muddy field and take your sweater off and tug it over my head. That's sexy."
"Right." Anthony said a little bemusedly, "Well, I could... carry you through a paddock if you wanted."
"I'm going to hold you to that, you know. I'll get you shirtless holding a lamb one of these days, Framer Anthony."
"Why would I need to be shirtless holding the lamb?"
"Because you've given me your sweater and this is my sexy farmer fantasy, Anthony." Kate sighed, "Keep up."
He just liked her. The way she teased him made his ears turn red and when she sent him pictures of herself, smiling in matching pyjamas with her dog his chest felt tight.
And that first night they meet in person he could hardly breathe. Couldn't breathe all the next day either when he took her around the farm and her hair was blowing in the breeze and he couldn't help himself as they sat on one of the fences, her hand warm in his.
"You're um- Sorry, you're just really beautiful."
Her smile was even more beautiful in person and it stole something from his chest when she leaned in and kissed his cheek gently.
"You know, I thought this whole humble farmer thing might have been an act but you genuinely have no idea how fucking hot you are do you?"
"Um? I don't know how to answer that?"
Kate sighed, pushing his hair back from his eyes, "Okay well, I really like you, Anthony. I think you're really cute and I'm going to need you to stop acting like this is the end, because I'm pretty sure this is the beginning for us."
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facingthefossegrim · 11 months
Text
what’s going on?
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I was reviewing the comic again a couple of nights ago (as one does), when I noticed that He Tian hadn’t changed his shirt & cardigan (blazer? jacket? coat... thing) in the past three days.
To recap the days, Evening 1 (aka chapter 405) was the showdown with She Li. He had to swap out his white shirt for a black one cause it was covered in Jian Yi’s blood, and after beating the shit out of She Li, he went back to Mo’s place, had the iconic first kiss (beautiful, perfect, everyone loved that), and stayed the night.
Cause he spent the night at Mo’s, ofc he didn’t have anything else to wear, and Mo prolly wouldn’t have had clothes that would fit him, so Day 2 (chapter 411+) was He Tian in the same outfit. Not the freshest, but eh, it’s a day; no biggie. It’s now Day 3 (chapter 419+), however, and He Tian is still in the same tops, just swapped out his pants for the school uniform ones. He probably had these on him (since that’s what he originally wore on Day 1); maybe carried them with him (likely) or had a spare pair in his locker (possible). (Or they were at He Cheng’s actually --figured it out as I was typing all this.)
At first the outfit got me wondering if he spent another night at Mo’s, but no, that’s not it. In chapter 419 we see He Tian texting Mo that he’d be late and to not wait for him.
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That got me thinking that maybe He Tian didn’t go home, but stayed at He Cheng’s place (where else would he have been able to gather the ingredients for a Mo bento? And if the pants were at his brother’s, yeah, they’d have his clothes washed and ready for school, no prob.) What was he doing at He Cheng’s place? Finalizing the negotiations with his brother from chapter 405? He Cheng isn’t as cold as he seems; we know just how much he loves He Tian; he would do anything for him, so long as it didn’t blatantly conflict with their father’s wishes.
It wouldn’t have been surprising that that perfect Day 2 was one big beautiful good-bye. Waking up together, paying a visit to the dog house, introducing Mo to his mom; it all feels like He Tian is taking a stroll through the lives of those he’s loved and those who’ve left him; he’s preparing himself to part from Mo in turn.
The scene at the fish shop is cute and funny, but maybe it also echoes a certain sentiment; a wish that the hurt and lonely little black fish wouldn’t be alone anymore. A reminder for Mo (likely the one who’ll keep the fishes, since he was the one who got the first one and there’s only one tank) of He Tian.
I really don’t want this to be it, but I do think that this may be He Tian’s last day. It just feels like all this build-up is pointing to an abrupt climax. He’ll pierce Mo’s ear before he leaves, opening new wounds on his body and in his heart.
Translation credit: alexc1ting (19daysonly)
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His Solace
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Season Two Episode Five
Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)
Words: 5962
Series Masterlist
Summary: Morgan calls the reader to Los Vegas, worried about Spencer. Together, they face demons from his past while she continues to struggle with hers. 
Notes: I’m messing with the timeline of the episode a bit in order for the reader to be able to be there when everything happens. This one is probably going to be pretty long because I’m trying to work in scenes from the episode. Buckle up for the next part because it’s also going to be crazy long. 
Warnings: Nightmares, mentions of SA, mentions of child death, PTSD, alcoholism (lotta stuff for this one guys)
-
Spence hadn’t had the nightmare in years. 
He chalked it up to stress. The case. Going home. Worrying about you. He’d been tearing himself in half trying to balance everything. His mind was just having a hard time handling it. That was all. 
But dreaming on the plane was one thing. Waking up the parents of a missing child because of his screams was another. Morgan assured him that it would be okay. The sinking guilt and embarrassment sunk their claws into his chest nonetheless. 
Morgan returned to the kitchen where he’d been up all night looking over the case. Spence laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and trying to remember everything from his dream. The same basement. The same boy. Leeches? 
He rolled over and reached for his phone on the coffee table. 
“Hello?” 
He hadn’t expected you to answer. The time crept into the early morning hours and he’d been expecting your voicemail. Not that he minded. He just wanted to hear your voice. 
“Hey, what are you doing up?” He asked. There was something going on in the background. Music maybe? Someone called something to you, but you ignored them. 
“Spencer, hey,” you said. You sounded surprised. Panicked even. 
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just at…” You paused and he listened to what sounded like you stepping outside, muting the music and the voices. “Sonia’s.” 
“Oh, I-uh- I can call you back then.”
“Spence, what’s wrong?” 
“Nothing,” he breathed. Spencer sat up and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice.” 
You switched the phone to your other ear. He could hear the breeze through the speaker and the occasional car horn. 
“Is it the case?”
“No, I-” There was no use lying to you. “I don’t know. I’ve just been having this dream I haven’t had in a while and I don’t know if it means anything. It’s probably nothing. I’m sorry for waking you- or interrupting Sonia’s party, I guess. I’ll let you get back.”
“Spencer, wait,” you said. “Talk to me. I thought you don’t believe in dream analysis.”
“I don’t. At least I think I don’t,” he sighed. “I’ve been having the same nightmare since I was a kid and it’s felt more and more real the past few days.”
“What do you think is scaring you so much?” You cursed yourself for not being there to help him. Instead, you were out at the one place you promised yourself you’d never go again. 
The bar you used to go to with him. 
“I’m still trying to figure that out,” he said. “I’m sorry for calling so late.”
“Seriously, Spencer, it’s okay. You guys have only been gone for a couple days and I miss you so much I subconsciously grabbed one of your shirts for work this morning instead of mine.” You laughed, tugging at the collar of his button-up that you were still wearing. 
“I’m glad my absence has turned you into a kleptomaniac,” he teased, finally feeling his nerves start to settle. 
You stepped towards the road and tried to hail a late-night taxi. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to head back home and grab the Sherlock Holmes book we’re on and I’ll read to you for a change.” 
Spence fell back against the couch cushions and smiled to himself. “That sounds perfect, actually.” 
“The Sign of Four, right?”
He hummed. “Page 23.” 
“Just let me find a cab and I’ll be on my way home.” 
He briefly wondered why you hadn’t driven yourself, but his mind was focused on too many other things to overanalyze it. Instead, he tried to listen to the sound of your breathing and the light roll of thunder as it began to rain in D.C. 
-
You hadn’t meant for it to get this bad. But work had been piling up and you were trying to meet study deadlines on top of worrying about Spencer. When you were at the bar, you had Beth to cut you off, but here, at home with a full bottle drained in one sitting, you could hardly see straight. 
But at least you couldn’t feel. 
You just needed a day to give in, to let yourself drown in your dark side and then you could keep smiling, convincing everyone that everything was okay. And everything was. You could keep yourself together as long as you had times like this where you could forget how it felt to be falling apart. 
You groaned at the shrill, ear-piercing shriek of your ringtone. Had it always sounded like that? It made your head pound as if it were trying to break away from the noise through your skull. 
“Heeelllo?” 
“Y/N, it’s Derek.”
“Hey- what is it Penelope calls you- oh, right- hey Chocolate Thunder,” you giggled. 
There was a long pause on the other line. Maybe it wasn’t long, but the seconds kind of all blurred together. “Are you okay?” 
“Of courrrse I’m ffffffine,” you slurred through your words. You weren’t even trying. The part of your brain that would usually sound an alarm right about now was stuck in a haze of warm whiskey bliss. 
“Have you been…” Derek checked the hallway for anyone listening. “Are you drunk right now?” 
You gulped. “No.” 
“Christ Y/N, it’s not even noon in D.C.,” he exasperated, running a hand down his face. “Listen, I’m gonna need you to sober up real quick because I might need your help.” 
Despite every worry running through his head revolving around the idea of you drinking, Reid’s problem took the forefront of his mind. 
Your thoughts holed through the haze enough for a moment of sober clarity. “D-did something happen to Speeencer?” 
You could vaguely remember Spence calling you about nightmares a night or so ago. It felt like months. 
“I just think he could use having you here right now,” Derek said. “But, Y/N, if you’re drinking-”
“I’ll be there,” you blurted with a fair amount of effort. You hung up the phone before he could say anything else. Any drunken bliss had switched to a motivational panic, forcing your feet to move across the living room. You’d splashed your face with cold water a few times before the liquor won and you threw up the entire contents of your stomach. 
Hot tears blurred your vision more than the intoxication. Something was wrong. Spencer needed you. And here you were on the bathroom floor. 
Morgan knew. You couldn’t keep the two halves separate anymore, the dark collapsing onto the other. 
Pulling yourself off the floor, you readied yourself to pack. 
You could do this. You had to. If you lost your balance, you would fall and you weren’t sure you knew how to climb out of the pit again. 
-
Somehow, he just knew. He had to be right. Why else would his mind bring him here? Bring him back to this memory of his childhood. Spencer walked back down the hallway, and there he was, talking to Morgan and Rossi as if he had no idea what this was about. Spence’s blood boiled just looking at the face of the man that now haunted his dreams. 
His father. 
“My son? Did something happen?” 
Spencer stepped back into the lobby. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.” The two Reid men stared at each other, his father’s eyes growing wide with a mix of surprise and confusion. “Hello, dad.” 
17 years. 17 years and he was only ten minutes away. It took everything in Spence’s power to not scream at him right then and there. 
The four of them went into his father’s office, where he attempted light conversation but Spence shot it down. With every seething phrase, he could feel Morgan and Rossi’s looks of concern burning into him. He didn’t care. All he wanted was to get the truth from the man that abandoned him. 
It was when he said the name. Riley Jenkins. His father looked away. He turned to Morgan as if to ask the other agent for help. Reid was right. 
He was hiding something. 
“You remember Riley Jenkins?” Spence asked. 
His dad turned back to him. “Of course.” 
“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time. But when we came back here for this case, it jogged something.” His voice was level enough, but the other two agents could sense him reaching a breaking point. “The dream changed. I saw his killer.” He didn’t hesitate. Spence didn’t even flinch. “And it was you.” 
A long, tense silence passed over the room. 
His father just smiled, nervousness tinting his gaze. “Interesting dream.” 
Morgan watched him, arms crossed and mind focused. “You don’t seem all that surprised.” 
“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago.” 
The agents began closing in, starting with Rossi. Mr. Reid’s demeanor changed. He grew defensive and his tone switched to anxious agitation. Morgan requested access to his files. He told them to get a warrant. 
In Spencer’s head, it might as well have been an admission of guilt. 
Morgan watched the younger man go with a heaviness in his chest. All of the kid’s anger and all of his unfaced issues with his father were manifesting into something he couldn’t walk back from. And if this was true… was he really ready to face it?
All he could do was hope that you would be able to talk some sense into him when nobody else could. 
-
For the second time that day, Spencer found his hotel room door ajar. Cautiously, he pushed it open, hand reaching for the holster on his hip. His arm fell to his side, however, when he found you, legs crossed and nose buried in a set of pictures and files on his bed. 
“What are you doing here?” 
You didn’t even look up. “Who’s Gary Michaels?” 
“Y/N-”
“Someone slipped this under your door.” You glanced up at him. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I learned how to break into hotel rooms when I was 17 and tried to hide from Aaron for a weekend in Arlington.” 
“You’ve never told me that story,” he said. Spence shook his head, refocusing. “But that’s not the point. What are you doing here?” He snatched the file from the bed and read the note attached. 
You’re looking at the wrong guy.
Right. Nothing suspicious about that. 
“I heard you could use some help and I got on the first flight out,” you shrugged, trying to hide the way your head pounded. Sleeping on the plane was definitely not a good idea. You’d already had three coffees to nurse your midday hangover and they were making your hands shake. 
Spencer frowned. “Morgan called you, didn’t he?” 
“Yes, he called. He texted me some of the details of the case so I would know what we’re getting into,” You set the files aside and stood up, crossing the room to put a hand on his arm. “He thought you would appreciate my help, that’s all.” 
“Well I don’t,” Spence snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration. You stepped back. His tone was more than just agitated. It was aggressive. He’d never spoken to you like that. It didn’t frighten you. It hit you with how much he was really struggling. 
Spencer watched your face fall. His arms hung at his sides and his eyes blinked tears away until one escaped. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” His voice gave out before he could finish. He screwed his eyes shut to keep from crying. The anger fueling him dissipated into guilt. Maybe he’d been trying so hard to keep everything together for your sake, that everything just made him snap. Maybe this was all in his head. Maybe he was just as crazy as he always feared he would-
His internal rambling stopped at the feeling of your arms around him, your hand leaning his head onto your shoulder gently. He opened his eyes and took you in, hands clinging to you like a life preserver. The only thing keeping him afloat in this storm. 
“It’s okay,” you whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.” 
“No,” he cried. “No, it isn’t. I don’t know which is worse. The possibility of my dad being a killer or that I’m… I’m so convinced that he is. Nothing is okay, Y/N. I don’t know- I don’t know what to do.” 
“Just talk to me,” you pleaded, putting your hands on his cheeks. “I can’t help you if you shut off on me.” 
A small smile tugged the corner of his lips. “Hypocrite.” 
“Okay, well, this isn’t about me,” you rolled your eyes. He just shook his head and pulled your lips to his. “What was that for?” 
“For being here.” 
The two of you stood there for a moment before he pulled away, walking over to the window. 
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He turned his head back to you with a deeply troubled expression. “Did you have a relationship with your dad?” 
An uncomfortable shiver ran through you as if sparking your hungover headache all over again.
“I never met him, actually,” you shrugged. You nodded your head in thought. “Aaron always told me he was grateful for that. All I know about him is that he was… well, my mom was scared enough of him to kill six teenage girls if that’s a fair judgment of his character.”
Spencer looked back to the window. “Right.”  
You shook off the dark thoughts and pecked a kiss on his cheek, sitting back down on the bed. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on.” 
Spence exhaled slowly and laid back beside you. “There’s this boy I knew when I was little, Riley Jenkins. He was sexually assaulted and murdered. They found his body behind the dryer in his basement.”
“The kid in your dreams,” you exclaimed breathily. Spencer had told you about this particular set of nightmares before, but it hadn’t occurred to you that it had been from his childhood. 
“The thing is, I didn't even remember he existed until Morgan pulled his files and my dream changed. I saw Riley’s killer.” He moved his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “It was my dad.” He glimpsed at you to gauge your reaction, but you just sat beside him, hand on his arm, listening intently. “Riley Jenkins lived less than half a mile away. He was on the little league team my dad coached. When we talked to him, he was defensive and not just because of the accusation but… he was definitely hiding something.” 
“And you’re sure it has something to do with Riley’s death?” 
“I don’t know how,” he sighed. “But I know I’m right.” Spencer held up the note from the file. “My dad was involved in this boy’s death and I have to figure out how.” The determination in not only his voice but his eyes set into your heart. 
“Okay,” you nodded. That’s all you needed to hear. “Walk me through it.” 
-
Spencer needed to clear his head after rehashing everything with you and getting the call from Garcia. Having a file on his accomplishments didn’t suddenly make up for his dad abandoning him for all those years. But knowing he was checking in and still staying away… it somehow made him feel even worse. 
You were standing in front of a vending machine, pretending to pursue its contents when you were really eyeing the bar. 
“Morgan called in the big guns, huh?” the voice behind made you jump out of your skin, quickly jerking your eyes away. 
“Dave,” you gulped as you tried to calm yourself. “I didn’t know you were here, too.” 
The older agent gave you a hard once over as if scanning you for what you were hiding. You waited for him to comment on your absence from the group or your avoidance like Aaron had. After all, you’d barely seen any of them in the past few weeks. You’d barely managed to hide everything from Spencer, let alone an entire team of profilers. Especially one as skilled as David Rossi. But if he suspected anything, he kept it to himself. 
“The kid seemed like he could use a weathered veteran like me on the case,” Dave smirked. 
“I’m glad you’re here to help out,” you said. “It’s good to see you. Even if it isn’t under the best circumstances.” Your shoulders sagged a little with the truth of what you said. 
Hiding away was lonely. 
“When this is all over, you’ll have to catch me up on everything,” he nodded. There was still a hint of suspicion in his eyes and you made a mental note to put more effort into keeping up your better half. Especially since one of them already knew. 
“You were supposed to text me when you got in.” 
Speak of the Derek-Morgan-Devil. 
You turned to the approaching agent and saw the mix of anger and worry on his features. It was the same look he gave you when you were stuck in the station together in Fairfax. But beneath the outward frustration, you saw the genuine glint in his eye. Like when they found you. 
When you killed her. 
“Must have slipped my mind,” you said. “I’m going to go grab Spencer.” 
Your urgency did not go unnoticed. Rossi looked at Morgan with a raised brow. Morgan sighed. 
“It’s a long story,” he said. 
Truthfully, as soon as he’d hung up with you, he almost called your brother. Derek might not have known everything about the situation, but he liked to think that the two of you had become friends. He knew about your previous struggles with drinking and the minute he heard your intoxicated voice, he knew something was wrong. But he also knew it wasn’t his place to tell your family and friends what you were going through. That was something you had to do yourself. 
Besides, he felt like he owed you a chance to explain. After failing to keep you safe in Fairfax… he thought you at least deserved that. 
Spencer was on one of the card machines talking to a woman who’d sat beside him. A small shot of jealousy rumbled up your spine, but it quickly dissipated when his eyes met yours, lighting up. He hurried over to you, the woman calling after him. 
“Hey, there’s like two thousand dollars on here.”
“Keep it,” he said, keeping his eyes on you. “I think I figured out a way to help me remember.” 
“Did he just give two grand to a prostitute?” Morgan asked. 
“Let’s go,” you took Spence’s hand and let him lead you out of the lobby with new determination. 
-
You did not like this idea. The whole method had always made you uncomfortable and now, the thought of sending Spencer back to such a dark place freaked you out even more. Maybe a part of you feared he was right. What if his dad really killed this child? What would that do to him? 
You of all people knew the cataclysmic break it could cause inside of a person. 
Dave had offered to sit in, but you told the two that you would stay with him. Spencer was grateful. If anyone could center him back, in reality, he knew it would be you. 
You took a seat across the room while Spence laid down on the couch. Seeing the worry in your expression, he gave you a small, reassuring smile, despite the wariness in his own eyes. The hypnotherapist began the process and you forced yourself to keep still. Every nerve in your body was on edge and your hands ached for something to do to distract yourself. 
“Go back to the night you were just telling me about,” she instructed. She set the stage and you watched as Spencer fell deeper and deeper into the trance. 
You tried to focus on his face as they spoke, but images invaded your mind as if you were the one under hypnosis. Sarah Cunningham and her bottle of death loomed over you like phantoms. You took a deep breath. You were here for Spencer. 
The sound of his voice cracking helped pull you back. 
“I don’t want to be here.” 
“Okay,” the woman said. “It’s okay Spencer. Take us to where the light is.” 
The sun dipping under the horizon. The flash of the gun. The sticky, hot, spray of blood on your face. 
“Mom,” Spencer muttered. “My mom, she’s at the window. I think she’s been crying.” 
You remembered seeing Tabitha’s parents at the trial. Sarah’s tears of inconsolable grief. She was just a lost woman- like your mother. 
And you killed her. 
“I think she saw him,” Spence continued. 
“Who?” The therapist asked. “Your father?”  
Again, you force yourself to refocus, heart pounding at the sight of confused fear on Spencer’s face. 
“Do you talk to her?” 
He shook head his slightly. “No. No, I wanna… I wanna see.” 
After a moment, his grip on the hypnotherapist's wrist tightened so much she tried to pull away. She winced, looking at you fearfully. 
“What is it, Spencer?” She asked. “What are you seeing?” 
His fingers remained clamped around her wrist. His face contorts. You stand up from the chair. 
“That’s enough,” you said.
“I need you to leave this location now, Spencer,” she ordered. 
You wanted to run over to him, to take his hand to tell him everything was okay. But something inside of you was screaming to run away. Everything you touched withered and died and you were dragging him with you. 
Killer. 
Killer. Killer.
“Wake him up,” you pleaded. 
Meanwhile, Spencer watched the scene unfold as if it were a moment from someone else's life rather than his own. He saw himself, young and scared and confused, standing at the window. He watched his father over the fire. Clothes covered in blood blackened and curled in the flames. 
The hypnotherapist tried to keep her voice steady as she instructed. “I’m going to count backward from five. Five…”
His childlike terror was more than he could stand. 
“Four…”
You felt your knees weaken, the truth of your realization hitting you like a bullet.
“Three…” 
It was as if he were witnessing his life unravel and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 
“Two…” 
You were just like your mother. 
“One and wake!” 
Spencer’s eyes snapped open and he gasped in short, terrified breaths. You snapped out of your own thoughts and rushed to him, everything you just felt was instantly forgotten. He latched onto your hand, eyes scanning the room in a panic.
“Spence, it’s okay. I’m right here, baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.” You pushed aside the gnawing in your brain as his eyes fell upon your face. “It’s okay.”
Spencer looked into your eyes and found himself on the brink of tears. He knew it. He knew you could bring him back from that dark place. His solace from the nightmare of his memory. He brought your hand to his lips and slowly, his breathing returned to normal.  
-
“How is he holding up?” Aaron asked. 
You sighed, switching the phone to your other shoulder as you looked over more case files. “How do you think? Finding out your parent might be a killer…” you trailed off. 
“Yeah,” Aaron exhaled. He knew what this whole ordeal must be doing to you and it took everything in him not to fly right back to Vegas to help. 
“We’re going to be okay,” you said, reading the silence between you. You sat with Gary Michael’s file in your lap and like a train, it finally dawned on you. “Oh, my god.” 
Aaron froze, that familiar fraternal panic shooting through his head. “What is it?”
“Have Garcia look up bodies found in surrounding states in the past 20 years. Look for Gary Michaels."
“The man from the file?” 
You nodded to yourself. “Maybe there’s a reason we can’t find him.” And maybe the blood that Spencer saw on the clothes wasn’t Riley Jenkins. What was it he’d told you that his mom said? 
It’s always been about him. 
“Okay, you’re on speaker,” Aaron said. 
“How’s our boy doing, Hot Stuff?” Penelope asked, followed by a series of furious typing. 
“He’ll be better once we solve this.” You listened to the other line. A sharp, quiet wince caught your attention. “JJ, are you okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah don’t worry about me.” 
“Oh god,” Penelope gasped. “Y/N, you are a genius. Gary Michaels’ body was found in California seven years ago.” 
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Do they know what happened?” 
“No,” Aaron answered, reading the screen over Penelope’s shoulder. “But there are prints on file that were found on his glasses.” 
Another pained cry JJ attempted to hide behind her hand. 
“Are you sure everything is okay?” You repeated. 
“How often have these been?” Emily asked. 
“Seriously, I’m fine-”
“Sorry sweetie,” Penelope beamed. “But I think you’re going into labor.” 
Aaron put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get the car.” He took the phone off speaker. “Listen, I’ll call you back.”
“Of course. Take care of JJ. I’ll deal with things here.”
“And Y/N,” he started. 
You cut him off, trying to keep your mind on one thing at a time. If you thought about anything else, you’d break.  “I know.” 
-
He didn’t know what to feel. Relieved his father wasn’t a killer? Ashamed for accusing him in the first place? Guilty for everything he’d put his mom through? 
Spencer felt it all, sitting in that chair in the odd silence that had fallen over the room. He could feel you, Rossi, and Morgan watching from the other room, anxiously awaiting his reaction to everything. One thought kept in the shadows of his mind and he didn’t know what to do with it. 
He could have been another Riley Jenkins. A victim of the very crimes he’d dedicated his life to solving. 
Life has a funny way of circling back, doesn’t it? 
“We should be getting back soon and get your mother her medication,” the doctor who’d accompanied his mom said. 
“Right, of course,” Spencer agreed. 
His mom looked at him with the same loving admiration she often did. Like he was the brightest thing she’d ever seen, despite how dark his soul felt at the moment. Spence held up a hand. 
“Could you give me just one more second?” He asked the doctor, also checking his dad for a nod. 
Both approved and Spencer went out into the station, motioning you over. 
“How’d it go?” You asked tentatively. 
He thought for a moment. “Complicated, but… well?” You raised a confused brow. “I’ll tell you more later. Come with me.” 
“What? Spence, I don’t think now is the best time to-”
He ushered you into the room despite your protests. 
“Mom, Dad, this is Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N,” he announced. 
You wanted to crawl under the desk, freezing under their eyes. 
“The girl from your letters,” his mother noted with a small smile. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”  She looked at you with the same affection she might have shown her own child. It was an odd feeling, receiving a mother’s love for the first time in so long. 
“It’s an honor, Mrs. Reid,” you said. “I’ve heard so much about you.” 
“Please, call me Diana,” she beamed. “Spencer tells me you two are in similar kinds of work?” 
You nodded. “I’m a criminal psychologist.” 
You saw something click in the eyes of her doctor, but he didn’t say anything. Even over two thousand miles away, your last name, your life story, was a curse. 
Spencer’s hand found yours as if he could sense the cloud forming over your head. He gave you a smile and you pushed on. 
“Dad, this is Y/N. My- uh- my girlfriend,” he stammered. It wasn’t that he was unsure or ashamed. The word ‘girlfriend’ just didn’t seem to fit. It seemed so juvenile, so not important enough. For now, it’d have to do. 
“William Reid,” his father held out his hand and you shook it. He wasn’t the heartless monster you’d formed in your head. He was just a man. 
The doctor informed it was time to go and Spencer and his mother said their goodbyes. He exchanged a genuine but wavering handshake with his father before he departed as well, leaving the two of you in the room alone. 
“Of all the ways I imagined meeting your parents…” you blew out a breath broken up by a slight laugh. 
Spencer just pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. For the first time since he’d been here, he didn’t feel himself shaking. You grounded him despite the flying thoughts rattling around his brain. 
“Hey,” you soothed. “It’s okay.” 
He didn’t say anything for a long time. He just drank in your presence like it was keeping him from drowning in the emotions he didn’t know how to feel. 
After a while, he whispered. “I’m glad Morgan called you.” 
You held him a little tighter. Right… Morgan. 
-
Spencer had never been so afraid of dropping something in his entire life. 
“Hello Henry,” he said softly, almost scared he’d talk too loud and wake up the sleeping child. He wrapped his head around the word. Godfather. 
JJ positively beamed at him. “If anything should happen to us, it’s up to you and Garcia to make sure this boy gets into Yale.” 
“Yale. Yale?” Spencer exclaimed. “Do you want to go to Yale Henry?” 
He couldn’t understand it, but the feeling growing in his chest was unlike anything he’d felt before. A kind of want that he couldn’t quite place. Spence hadn’t given much thought to having kids before- well, maybe as a distant, alternate reality where he was normal and wasn’t afraid of everything and he could see himself having that kind of life- but now, looking into the face of his godson, he already loved him like he was his own. 
“That was your godfather’s safety school.” Spencer smiled and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t worry, I can get you into Cal Tech with one phone call.”  
He was smiling like you hadn’t seen him smile in weeks. You watched Spencer with the baby from outside of the room and felt the sinking pit in your stomach. The two of you had spent so much time dealing with the mess that was each other’s past that you never really got the chance to talk about the future. 
“I brought you some coffee,” Aaron’s voice startled you out of your trance. You took the styrofoam cup and let the liquid inside warm your palms. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 
You shrugged. “Just… tired. It’s been a long few days.” 
He hummed. It’d been so long since you’d seen your brother in person, somehow he looked different. Worry drew lines on his face and his eyes glimpsed over at you with a mix of his usual seriousness, care, and a touch of hurt. 
“Jack misses you,” he finally said. “Haley was asking if you’d stop by sometime.” 
“Yeah,” you gulped down a sip of coffee. “Of course.” 
You turned back to the man in the window. Spencer’s bright face should have brought you some semblance of security, or at least relief that he would be okay after the events of the last few days. Instead, there was a gnawing feeling inside your gut and your mind traveled back to the hypnotherapist's office.
You were a killer. 
You were just like your mother. 
“He’d make a great dad, wouldn’t he?” You whispered, hoping that if you kept your voice low, Aaron wouldn’t hear the sorrow in your words. Tears welled in your eyes, everything clicking into place in your mind. 
You could never give Spencer that. A future. You would forever drag him into the past and he deserved so much more than that. He deserved someone who could make his face light up like it was right now. He deserved a life away from you. 
“He would,” Aaron agreed with a small smile. He turned just in time to see you rushing down the hall. “Y/N?” He called after you, but you kept going until you ran into a firm, entrapping barrier. 
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”
“Not now, Derek.” You kept your eyes low so he wouldn’t see you cry. 
“Yes now,” he ordered. The taller man put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place. “Avoiding me isn’t going to make it go away.” 
“I really can’t do this right now-”
“That’s too damn bad because we’re going to.” He ushered you over to a bench, clearly not going to take no for an answer. “Sit down and look at me.” 
You obeyed. When he saw your tears, his face softened. 
“Just talk to me, Y/N.”
You scoffed and wiped your cheeks with your sleeve. “Everybody keeps saying that. Just talk. Tell them what’s wrong. But what am I supposed to say? That I see the woman I killed every time I close my eyes? That I’m afraid every single day that I’m only hurting everyone I care about, most of all Spencer.” You choked back a sob. “That I’ve been so scared that I started drinking again after four years of not touching a drop just so I could stop feeling for once.” 
You covered your face with your hands. Derek didn’t say anything. He just put a supportive hand on your back and waited for you to calm down again. It felt like you were back in that police station and he was pulling you back to the ground. 
“Y/N,” he started softly. “I know that you’re tough as nails and that brain of yours is more brilliant than I even know, but you can’t do this alone.” He moved you gently so that you were sitting up and looking at his face. “You have to tell them.” 
You shook your head. “No. No, I can’t. I can handle it, Derek. I’ve been handling it, I swear-”
He stood up. With that steady voice that had more than once kept you from going over the edge, he looked down at you. The guilt pouring through his thoughts made him want to lock you in a room so you could never be hurt again. Part of him knew that this was his fault. If he had just stayed with you…
He sighed. “Tell them, or I will.” 
-
It was almost morning by the time he left the hospital. He’d found a few pamphlets about newborns and read all of them, just in case. He’d already read several books since JJ announced she was pregnant, but the idea of being a godfather made him even more nervous. 
The exhaustion of the last few days was telling on him and he was ready to curl up with you and sleep for a week. From the rollercoaster with his parents to the happiness for JJ, all of his emotions felt draining. 
Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment and, as the door swung open, he knew something was wrong. Something about the silence felt off. Wrong. The apartment was dark. There was an unsettling stillness throughout the living room. It was as if his senses knew before his mind- a feeling he knew too well at this point. 
Spence put down his bag and walked to your desk where a small note in your handwriting said goodbye. 
-
The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird
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