#i remember being in a car close to my grandma's and seeing him

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 5 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, mutual pining, SLOW BURN

words: 6.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 5 ► oh, and, my love, did i mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off?

Your train reached Paris at almost exactly eight o’clock in the evening and the rain was pouring. The wedding reception had started at seven, but Jungkook didn’t mind being late, even though the longer he lingered with you on the streets, the more the rain ruined your outfits, and your hair, and your make-up—but not your mood.

“I prefer being late,” he said when the two of you caught a cab from Gare du Nord to the wedding venue in the 8th arrondissement. “Less small talk if you show up when everyone’s already said hello to everyone.”

“I see your point,” you said, sliding over the backseat as Jungkook climbed in after you. “But it’s still rude to be late. Especially to a wedding. Especially when you weren’t even going to come to said wedding at all.”

He gave the driver the address and turned to you, resuming the conversation, because he had a very important point to make, “my grandma used to say that as long as I’m not late to my own wedding, I’m fine.”

You snorted at this, but your expression wasn’t mocking. You remembered his grandmother with nothing but love. Thoughtfully, you replied, “she’s a wise woman.”

���She is, yeah,” he agreed. “She always wanted to go to Paris, by the way. Remind me to call her.”

“That’s nice,” you commented, turning to the window as the streets of Paris passed outside, all in a blur of streetlights, reflected in puddles of rain on the pavement. “I think I’ve always wanted to come here as well.”

This surprised him and he paused in the middle of reaching for his phone. He’d already forgotten what he was going to check on it as he looked back at you again. When he spoke, there were minor notes of offence in his voice.

“You did?” he asked. “You never told me.”

“Yeah,” you said, not meeting his eye—you were far too captivated by the rainy streets outside the car window. They were nothing magical on their own, you supposed, but there was something about them tonight in particular. “I don’t know. It’s not my dream destination, but it’s Paris. Can you say you’ve travelled if you’ve never been here?”

Jungkook thought about it. “Well… I mean—there are other cities, too. Isn’t Paris a bit overrated?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged, still glued to the window. “Probably. I’ve still wanted to see it for myself, though.”

He could tell, as he leaned forward until he was able to see the neon lights from the signs outside reflected in your eyes. The taxi ride should have taken about twenty minutes, but now Jungkook wondered if he’d manage to ask the driver to take a longer route without you finding out.

“In that case,” he said finally, “I’m glad I brought you here.”

You turned to give him a look, but were startled by his close proximity. You nearly bumped your cheek into his when you craned your neck.

Realising—from your widening eyes—that he’d entered far into your comfort zone, he scooted back in his seat. But your heart was already giving orders for explosions to go off in various parts of your body.

You cleared your throat and looked back out the window—not because of the view this time, but because it felt safer this way.

“We would have come here eventually anyway,” you said. “You’re performing at Cabaret Sauvage in less than a month.”

Disappointed by your purposefully emotionless voice and words that took all credit away from him, Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Sure. But,” he emphasized, “with me, you didn’t have to wait a month.”

“Okay,” you settled—partially. “Thank you for turning my whole schedule upside down.”

He smirked at the sarcasm. “Oh, anytime.”

In an attempt to conceal your own smile, you returned your attention to the billboards and bright window displays outside.

“So, if not Paris,” Jungkook started again after a minute, “what is your dream destination?”

He wasn’t expecting your reaction to his question to be so severe: you seemed to lean towards the window—away from him—clench your jaw, and focus even harder on the view outside – as if you were trying to transport yourself there, instead of staying here with him.

“Amsterdam, I think,” you replied eventually, in a voice so reluctant and quiet that he wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t literally right next to you.

“Really?” he asked. “I’m assuming it’s not because of weed?”

Smiling somewhat, you shook your head. And then did not elaborate more.

“Anne Frank?” he tried again.

“Maybe,” you said. “But also because of simple things. Not necessarily significant in history.”

Jungkook found himself having to push as if he was trying to find out what your deepest fear was, since you resisted fully opening up. But this was something that, honestly, seemed quite superficial to him, so he was rightfully perplexed.

Still, he asked, “such as?”

You sighed, not having expected—let alone, planned—this exchange to progress that much.  

This felt like the start of a long conversation—capital C. Getting to know each other by participating in obligatory small talk that would soon lead to deep analyses of each other’s darker sides of the subconsciousness.

And the last time you and Jungkook had had a proper conversation about something that was not related to your jobs in the slightest, was months before you broke up.

So, it wasn’t that Jungkook was being invasive with his questions right now. It’s that he was personal. And he’d stopped caring about being personal with you long before your relationship ended.

“Like riding bikes in Canal District,” you answered finally—he was glad to hear it, although he did not like the way you sighed as you spoke. As if this conversation was a hassle. Fortunately for his overthinking, you continued, “I’ve wanted to do that ever since my uncle went on a business trip to Amsterdam when I was seven. He’d brought me so many postcards, I could easily imagine myself having been there with him.”

Jungkook stayed quiet. He remembered your uncle—your mother’s brother. He was a surprisingly caring man, even if he looked like he ran the mob.

And Jungkook remembered the postcards, too—you had them pinned to the bulletin board above your desk in your dorm room back in university. He wondered, briefly, why you’d never mentioned the story behind the postcards before. He’d always assumed you just liked the pretty views on them.

Sitting next to you in the taxi, he counted something under his breath.

“We’re going to have,” he started, then calculated again just in case, “three days off in Amsterdam.”

“I know,” you said, sitting up straight in your seat as the taxi took a turn past Palais Garnier. “Believe it or not, I didn’t plan it like that.”

“Let’s say I believe you,” he teased. “Should we go bike riding in Amsterdam?”

You turned away from the window to look at him, surprise evident in your lifted eyebrows. “Us, two?”

He nodded. “Us, two.”

“On your day off?”

“On my day off.”

Not hiding your skepticism, you licked your lips and told him, “Jungkook, you spend your free days getting wasted with your friends.”

Although that was a fair statement – he had to admit that much – he still tried to defend himself, “that—that’s not something I have to do every single time.”

“It’s not?” you asked. “Then why do you do it?”

“Because I usually have nothing better to do,” he replied. His honesty was amplified by his body language: eyes cast low, hands intertwined on his lap.

He hoped you wouldn’t misunderstand—he wasn’t trying to imply that he preferred his friends to you. Or to anyone else, for that matter. Truly, if you would have called, he would have abandoned everyone else in a heartbeat. But he was more comfortable keeping that to himself.

“And riding bikes sounds better than getting drunk?” you asked instead, the question laced with persistent disbelief.

“Riding bikes in Amsterdam,” he corrected, choosing to avoid the mention of you doing it together, “sounds better.”

“Okay,” you said, still not convinced. “You talk now, but let’s see if you change your mind when we’re back on the road.”

“I won’t,” he insisted with newfound confidence. Despite his assuring tone, his gaze still scanned the mat on the floor of the taxi. “I promise I’ll take you bike-riding in Amsterdam.”

Even more surprised now, you waited until he lifted his eyes to meet yours before you repeated, “you promise?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug—but the nonchalance was pretend. His hands were tightly pressed into each other on his lap, because otherwise he would have been reaching for you. “Cross my heart. I’ll take you bike-riding if it kills me.”

The exaggeration finally got you to laugh. “Why would it kill you?”

Your laugh had broken the spell. He felt himself relax as though something heavy had been lifted off of him, and with you laughing next to him, he was as light as the air around you. Nothing could crush him.

“You never know with bikes,” he replied, smiling, too. “I’m just saying, I’ll make it happen for you.”

After a detour down the Champs-Elysées under the tiny compact umbrella that you’d packed (it was still so beautiful with all the lights around—even more so in the rain), you finally arrived at the wedding, which was already in full swing.

It took the newlyweds a good fifteen minutes to notice you and Jungkook, but you wouldn’t have blamed them if they didn’t approach you at all.

As soon as they did, however, you immediately tried to apologise for being late—both, tonight and in general, considering that the two of you were only added to the guest list for the wedding a few days ago. But Kihyun and Chloé cut you off, both joking that they were just glad you made it here, because they had thought you’d gotten lost in Paris.

“I sort of wish,” Jungkook replied, casting a meaningful glance your way—you pretended not to see it. “But no time to get lost when we have an important wedding to get to.”

Your friends smiled at this, accepted your congratulations, and, instead of returning to the rest of their guests, actually stayed to catch up with you—as if this wasn’t their wedding. As if you were back in university, eating ice cream on the quad benches with all of your mutual friends, and fighting off the campus pigeons.

You had to admit, seeing Kihyun and Chloé again was very nice. You’d always considered them Jungkook’s friends more than your own—all three of them had graduated from the same major, even though you had quickly become Chloé’s class-skipping partner—but they were the one pair of his friends that you’d always approved of and, eventually, befriended, too.

Seeing them newly married, however—while you could still remember that one almost tragic double-date that you’d tried to go on, where Jungkook and Kihyun nearly broke their necks, racing on Vespas—now that felt overwhelming.

“You’re right on time, by the way,” Chloé said to you while the two boys discussed Rated Riot’s upcoming tour dates, seemingly attempting to make plans to meet up again, after the pair would return from their honeymoon. “I was just about to toss the bouquet.”

“Oh, I’m not—”

“Come on,” she grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from Jungkook.

You glanced back at him for help, but he only grinned at you, like he’d done so many times before, when you’d go to parties together and he’d force you out of your comfort zone, because he knew you’d thank him for this later.

You weren’t sure if you’d be grateful for it this particular time, though, as you found yourself in a crowd of bridesmaids and very drunk guests within fifteen minutes of arriving at this wedding.

You looked around and, with a sudden start, you recalled the reason why you were here in the first place.

Bending your neck to take in the people around you, you tried to guess which person in this wedding, could have been the hypothetical ex that you still didn’t think really existed.

There was no one who could have been it.

You’ve met most of the people here before and none of them looked particularly eager to talk to Jungkook or to avoid him. Everyone was indifferent—except you, as you kept looking back at him to find him already watching you every time—and that was the final confirmation.

There really was no ex.

You had no idea why he’d brought you here.

Distracted by your thoughts, you chose to just stand in the middle of the crowd. As you tried to avoid having your feet stepped on, you brought a hand through your hair. You liked crowds at concerts. You didn’t like crowds of very determined wedding guests.

Never having caught a drumstick or a single guitar pick at any of the concerts you’d gone to in your whole life, you felt rather stupid standing there. And the significance of catching the bride’s bouquet was lost on you, too—you’d never believed in the prediction that whoever caught it would be next to walk down the aisle: your mum had told you she’d caught it three separate times, and she had barely been married once.

You heard Chloé count down backwards from three and you extended your hands above your head; more as a protective instinct than anything else—to avoid getting smacked on the head.

By some harrowing chance, almost as soon as Chloé’s countdown finished, you felt the stems of flowers against your palm and clutched at them, reflexively. You heard claps and excited cheers around you before you registered that you’d caught the bouquet.

Lowering the classic, white rose combination, tied with a neat, pale bow, you swallowed and looked around, unable to conceal your overwhelming discomfort as you listened to earnest applause around you.

This felt embarrassing more than anything else. Irrationally so, of course, but embarrassing, nonetheless: like walking into an empty restaurant and interrupting the conversation of the staff. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you, and there were drunken shrieks of elation somewhere in the room.

You realised as you held the flowers awkwardly—like it was a bomb meant to be defused—that this was why you preferred to work backstage.

“I’m so glad it was you!” you heard Chloé exclaim. You turned to see her clapping her hands as she made her way towards you.

A few women you’d never met hugged you as if you were going to your own wedding as soon as this one was over.

You were frozen with an uncomfortable, twitching smile on your face and only sobered up somewhat when Chloé reached you. She was laughing as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders—in her defence, she tried to fight her amusement, but you looked completely anguished, nearly grief-stricken. It was ridiculously unfitting, and, at the same time, so completely in character for you.

“I’m not entirely sure how this works,” you told her. “Are you certain I’m not supposed to toss it, too? Sort of like a relay race? I saw one of your younger cousins who looked very excited to catch the bouquet, but she had an obvious height disadvantage.”

Chloé clutched you to herself tighter in a comforting manner.

“No, love,” she said brightly. “My cousins are twelve and thirteen, they both can wait for their turn. And I’ll see you at your wedding. Hopefully sooner rather than later? It’s been too long since we’ve last chatted.”

“It has been,” you agreed, “but if we’re only meeting at weddings, then I’m afraid this might be the last time we see each other.”

Laughing again, she rubbed a soothing hand on your back and assured you, “the bouquet can mean whatever you want it to mean. I’m just glad you’re here tonight. And I’m sure Jungkook is, too.”

With another soft smile, she nudged you in his direction and walked away to join her husband. Before you could begin pondering what she’d meant by that, your eyes caught sight of Jungkook, who was still watching you—in a relentless way. Like he hadn’t looked away from you once since you left his side.

You felt almost awkward as you approached him—all of your steps leaden under his watchful eye—but as soon as you were close enough, he grinned and said, “you look like you survived an alien abduction.”

And everything was okay again. For the time being, at least.

About an hour later, you and Jungkook had settled by a cocktail table at the back of the room.

The bride’s bouquet rested between you as you sipped champagne and took everything in: all the couples dancing around you, the kids kicking the balloons, Kihyun and Chloé being unable to stop smiling at each other as he twirled her around to the gentle melody of the wedding band playing Biffy Clyro’s “Many of Horror”.

“I still believe,” rang through the venue as the song went on, “it’s you and me ‘till the end of time.”

You nodded along to the rhythm, tapping your fingers against the table. You’d stopped resisting after your first glass of champagne and allowed the familiar melody to take you back to the days when you and Jungkook passionately screamed the lyrics of this song at each other in your dorm room.

The two of you dancing with each other was a far more violent affair than Kihyun and Chloé’s smooth swaying: your twirling involved a lot more kicking, stepping on toes, and tears of laughter as you eventually admitted your absolute incompetence when it came to dancing. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed very skilled at it—but then, when compared to you, probably even a well-trained rabbit could have danced better.

You smiled fondly at the memory, happy that the bubbles you drank and the long trip you’d taken today made you feel just dizzy enough to look back at the old days without wishing you were there now.

You were glad to be where you were.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was on his third glass. He kept glancing at the bouquet on the table with immense discomfort as he painfully remembered Sid’s words on their first night in Prague: “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

What if Sid was right, then what would he do? Would he get up on stage and perform a fucking love song for you and your new husband? An angsty, yearning love song with a powerful guitar riff—like the ones you liked and the ones he kept writing; the lyrics dripping with all the sentiments that would mean nothing to him, while you married someone else.

I still believe it’s you and me ‘till the end of time

He couldn’t do it. He’d never do it. He’d rather—

“Jungkook,” you said suddenly, your voice catching him off-guard.

“Hmm?” he looked at you, an almost alarmed expression on his face. The descent from deep inside of his mind and back to reality was a painful one.

“I have a question,” you said.

He finished his drink and put the empty flute down on the table. “Alright.”

“There’s no ex,” you said, deciding it was finally time to clear this up, “is there?”

After almost two hours at the wedding—where he hadn’t mentioned his ex once—both of you already knew the answer to this question. But he still graced you with a formal response, because he knew he owed you an explanation.

“No,” he said. “There’s not.”

You nodded, your expression the same as before.

He was relieved. He’d expected a drink in his face.

“So, tell me then,” you continued. “Why did you need me to come with you to this wedding?”

For the first second after you asked this, he thought he could have just admitted it. There was no condition in the bet about revealing the truth to you, after all. And it’s only a bet—it’s nothing significant.

But you were standing in front of him in your dress, the leather jacket that he’d gotten you hanging on your shoulders. You were looking at him with tired, tipsy eyes. And you were smiling—but still trying very hard not to—as you sipped your champagne.

There was a sense of future in the air.

Your future, together.

And the realisation that the bet was significant, despite his efforts to convince himself otherwise, had finally kicked in—he was afraid he wouldn’t just get a drink thrown in his face if he told you. He was afraid he’d lose this future.

“I, uh… I just didn’t want to be here by myself,” he ended up saying. This was, technically, not a lie, either. “I always go to these things alone.”

“Why go at all?” you asked then. “You were pretty definitive when you RSVP’d “no” months ago. I was the one who emailed them both of our responses.”

“Well,” he said, looking around at the waiters, passing out drinks, as he tried to buy time. “I don’t know. I feel different now that I’m in Europe. So close to Paris. I guess I changed my mind.”

As you’ve learned in the past few days, that was his excuse for everything.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, taking a sip from your glass. “Humour me about something else, would you?”

Happy that the waiter was finally close enough for him to reach, Jungkook grabbed another champagne flute from his tray and then looked at you again. “What is it?”

“Why would Sid tell me you were dating someone,” you began, “and then warn me not to let you go to this wedding?”

What a perfectly logical question. Truly, he couldn’t see how the question could have been more perfect.

It was so perfect, in fact, that you could engrave it on Sid’s tombstone after Jungkook killed him.

“You know what? I actually have no idea,” he said and then threw his head back to down the champagne in one big gulp.

He kept the liquid in his mouth for a second—prolonging the time he didn’t have to speak to you, all while you watched him suspiciously—and then swallowed, finally.

“Really,” he added in response to your questioning look. “He’s an enigma.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to describe him.”

He nodded, eager to cement the point he was making. Additionally, he suggested, “maybe he was just jealous.”

You squinted your eyes at him, trying to find the causal relationship between Sid lying to you and Sid being jealous.

You tried to guess, “jealous of—of not going to Paris with you?”

“Of me going with you,” he said.

You picked up your champagne glass again—you weren’t drunk enough to have this conversation. “What?”

He shrugged. “Maybe he has a crush on you.”

Your scoff was almost reflexive, and you were very glad that you hadn’t taken a sip before he had said this. You’ve heard plenty of unexpected things in the span of these past few days; all kinds of manipulations and weak cop-outs – but this one was, by far, the most ridiculous one.

“Maybe he has a crush on you,” you countered, clearly considering this statement to be an accusation more than a compliment.

He snickered at this. “Fair enough. Maybe he does.”

Swallowing, you put your near-empty glass down on the table and gave him a long look.

“So, he just did that to spread chaos?” you asked. “No other reason?”

Jungkook shrugged again. “Nothing else I can come up with.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said calmly and watched him freeze, startled by the bluntness of your words. First, you finished your champagne, then your sentence, “but I’m willing to drop it if this is nothing more than Sid’s game. Tell him to never speak to me again, and let’s leave this at that.”

Jungkook was relieved, and, at the same time, scared to feel relieved. He felt it necessary to say, “I’m sorry Sid did that.”

“Don’t apologise for him.”

“I’m not. The apology is from me,” he said. “I should have made sure he wouldn’t bother you, let alone lie to you—”

“I don’t care why Sid lied to me,” you cut him off. “I care why you did. Why you went along with it.”

He knew he should have seen your question coming, but he chose to pretend he could talk around this topic instead—and that’s why your words knocked all breath out of him.

It was simple: he’d played along with Sid’s lie, because he thought it’d help him convince you to come to Paris with him faster; he’d lied to you to win the bet.

But he hadn’t lied to you when he said he didn’t want to come to this wedding alone. He wanted to come here with you. The bet seemed more like an excuse now—a distraction from his anxiety that he equipped as a pretence to ask you out.

He was painfully aware of this now: he’d always wanted to ask you out again; just one more time. One last first date of your lives.

He realised this, and there was no way he could pretend otherwise, not when his mouth dried up every time he looked at you.

And yet, that seemed even more difficult to admit to you.

Inhaling, he said, “I thought Sid’s lie would get you to come with me.”

That did not feel much like an explanation.

“You could have said that Sid lied and just told me that you changed your mind about going to the wedding,” you said, waving your empty flute around. “You’re allowed to go where you want to. You’re an adult.”

“Well—”

“To a certain extent,” you added, “because, of course, you have your reputation to consider. Yours and the band’s, too, actually.”

“So, you would have just let me leave the tour?” he questioned, doubtful and, honestly, disappointed. Asking for your permission to do something felt childish, but it also felt like you cared. And he really needed you to care.

You remembered his threat about bringing his friends with him if you wouldn’t go, and asked, “would you have gone to Paris alone?”

He looked down. Then, he told you the full truth, “I wouldn’t have come here at all, if you hadn’t agreed to come with me.”

“But I said no,” you said, still trying to make sense of this. “I didn’t want to go. You kept pushing.”

“I really wanted us to go together. That’s why—you know.” He swallowed. “That’s why Sid’s lie seemed so convenient.”

“Why did it matter that we went together?” you asked one more time. “The real reason.”

He didn’t reply right away, because he was too tipsy for this. It was only champagne, he could have easily recited the alphabet backwards if he was asked to. But it was getting difficult to keep up with what he was telling you.

He didn’t want to lie, not anymore, so he tried to only tell you the truth and keep quiet about the things he didn’t want you to know about: like the bet. And, of course, the fact that he had, apparently, been in love with you for ages. This particular realisation had surprised him on the train earlier, and he was the one with the feelings. He couldn’t even imagine how much it would probably shock you if he told you.

You waited, at first; assuming that he needed a moment to gather the courage to explain. But a minute later, your patience ran out.

So, you tried to answer for him—offering an option that wouldn’t be satisfactory enough, but it would be comfortable for you to believe, “just because they’re our friends?”

“Yeah. Sure,” he said, but it sounded like he was just agreeing, because he could tell that this was what you wanted him to say. “We’d known Kihyun and Chloé for so long. So it’s for, um—for old times’ sake, I guess.”

You needed a minute to arrange everything in order in your mind. Everything Jungkook had said seemed convincing enough if you closed your eyes, but it still felt like a half-truth at best.

You knew there had to be a different reason why Sid didn’t want Jungkook to go to Paris—or, perhaps, why he didn’t want you to come with Jungkook.

Not to mention, Jungkook could have convinced you to come to the wedding much faster if he’d told you the truth instead of going along with the story about his “ex”. Of course, that’s assuming that he really did only want to come here to witness your friends get married like he’d said.

But you wanted to believe that what he’d told you tonight was true, because this way, you wouldn’t have to ask any more questions or overthink. And, truthfully, a part of you was afraid to ruin this—whatever this pleasant hum that had gathered around the two of you on the train to Paris was—by interrogating Jungkook further.

Not to mention, you’d outgrown Sid’s silly games and simply wanted peace.

Even though you didn’t speak, Jungkook seemed to read the thoughts in your mind as he chewed on his bottom lip and said again, “I’m sorry.”

You blinked, registering the discomfort on his face. “What for?”

“For the lying and the—well, everything,” he said with a resigned sigh.  “I realise this was a very backwards way to convince you to come here with me.”

“It was. And thank you for owning up to it,” you said. “But next time you try to do something weird, do try to leave me out of it, would you?”

He grinned at this—he couldn’t help it. “Define weird.”

You were smiling, even though you rolled your eyes in response.

“Lying,” you said then. His smile faltered. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but don’t lie to me.”

Solemn now, he nodded. He realised that this gesture alone wasn’t convincing enough and redeemed it by clearing his throat and saying very decidedly, “I promise I’ll make sure Sid doesn’t bother you again.”

“Good,” you said. “Please do.”

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he added. “Despite everything.”

You were about to retort with a dry “you’re welcome”, but decided to take a different route and make him work a little bit. It only seemed fair.

“I don’t think a simple ‘thank you’ will suffice,” you said slyly. He cocked an eyebrow, not having expected to hear the playfulness in your voice. “This was a huge favour, after all. I could have been sleeping on the tour bus right now.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun,” he countered. “I saw the look in your eyes on the cab ride to the wedding.”

“Well, I had to adjust,” you defended. “Can’t exactly sulk the entire time, I’m not a toddler. Unlike some people.”

You turned away as you said this, smirking, while he scoffed, indignant. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

He was instinctively opening his mouth to respond, but only managed to squeeze out an incomprehensible syllable that turned into an impressed tsk.  

“Okay,” he decided then, tongue in cheek. “So, how can I repay this massive favour?”

“I’m not sure you ever will, to be honest,” you played. “But you could start by gifting the newlyweds a song.”

Jungkook glanced back at the platform in the corner of the room that was set up as a stage for the band. The musicians were taking a break and having drinks by the bar right now, so it was empty.

He looked back at you. “I don’t sing at weddings.”

“You used to,” you pointed out.

“Once. They made me wear a suit with a bowtie. A tight, neon yellow bowtie,” he reiterated. “It nearly made me suffocate. I would have died looking like I ran away from a low-budget circus. I’m not doing that again.”

Trying to keep your laughter in—you hadn’t actually been working with Rated Riot yet when they performed at this wedding, but Yoongi kept pictures, and he pulled them out every year on Jungkook’s birthday—you reached over the table to touch him.

“I’ll make this easier for you,” you said as you gently undid the first few buttons of his black dress shirt.

His breath got caught in his throat the second he felt your fingertips brush against the bare skin between his collarbones. It lasted for less than a second, but he was certain your touch had left a mark.

“There,” you said, pulling away. You seemed to have no clue of the revolution you’d started in his chest, which was a wonder. He was convinced his face had passed all the colours of the rainbow in the span of a minute. You continued, “nothing’s blocking your airways now. I’ll even do you one better—you don’t look like a clown tonight. You actually look good.”

Funnily enough, he had fewer problems breathing before you leaned closer to touch him. And before you told him he looked good.

Weakly, he asked, “I assume you have a song in mind, then?”

You nodded. “Chloé once told me she loved this one when she was younger. “As Long as You Love Me” by—”

“No.”

 You were grinning as you finished, “—Backstreet Boys.”

He was shaking his head with enough vehemence for you to feel a soft wind on your face.

There wasn’t anything wrong with the song of choice—other than the fact that Jungkook doubted very much that Chloé had ever mentioned it to you; he suspected you were just setting him up—but he held a personal grudge against it ever since he impulsively performed the song at your birthday party six years ago.

You had already been so drunk at that point, you could only remember glimpses of it all. Fortunately, someone had filmed Jungkook as he was using your floor lamp as a microphone stand when he performed Nick’s part at the beginning of the song. Later on, he’d gotten so immersed that he’d pulled up a chair to perform the dance routine, too.

You still had the video saved somewhere on your cloud storage.

“Your debt will be fully repaid if you include the choreography,” you added now, knowing it wouldn’t convince him. You just needed to say it to see the tips of his ears turn red at the memory.

His lips were pursed as he watched the mischievous glint in your eye. He’d missed it, he realised, even if your teasing was at his expense.

“You don’t think I’ll do it,” he observed. You shrugged—an obvious challenge—and he looked back at the platform again.

“I’m going to need a mic stand and a chair,” he said. Your eyes visibly brightened—he hadn’t seen you this excited in years. Keeping eye contact with you as he walked backwards to the platform, he pointed a finger in your direction. “This is for you.”

You cheered—caught in the moment and in the champagne you’d had tonight—while he climbed on the platform and turned the music that had been playing from the loudspeakers off. It took everyone at this wedding by surprise. They all turned to look.

The musicians seemed largely unfazed, until he picked up the guitar that they’d left leaning against the wall by the platform. They were already about to approach, but Jungkook extended a hand with so much self-assurance that they froze right away.

He said something else—you were too far to hear—and that seemed to relax them. They returned to their drinks and Jungkook, finally, climbed onto the platform.

Admittedly, until the moment he did, you really didn’t think he would actually do it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he spoke, his voice muffled as he tapped the microphone to make sure it was working. You looked back to see the surprised looks on Kihyun and Chloé’s faces. “It’s a very special night tonight, as we know. And I have a very special gift for my friends. Congratulations on the beginning of the rest of your lives together, guys.”

The newlyweds both cheered and Jungkook chuckled lightly. The microphone caught the sound and you felt your heart respond to it in eagerness as it pounded against your ribs.

The second he played the first chords on the guitar, the room seemed to come to life. Some people recognised the melody and rushed to the designated dancing space in front of the platform, their hands in the air—and it felt, for just a moment, like a Rated Riot concert. Others still looked confused, but very entertained by the unexpected turn of events.

“Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine,” he began to sing and it immediately turned into a battle of which one of you two could last longer without cringing, “I'm leaving my life in your hands.”

You lost the battle as soon as Jungkook began the chorus and put the guitar down so he could perform the choreography with the chair—as much as he could, anyway, because the chairs at the venue didn’t fold. Your nose was scrunched, and you couldn’t help shaking your head, half in disbelief, half in amusement.

He watched you nearly the whole time—only looking away to nod encouragingly at Kihyun and Chloé, both of whom were dancing in the middle of the room—and his voice was louder, much clearer without the instrument accompanying it.

You’d watched him tear his shirt off on stage at Rated Riot shows, and you’d never had to cover your face. But your hands were on your mouth the moment he dramatically dropped to his knees for that last “as long as you love me” in the song.

His head fell in a theatrical manner as soon as he finished the song, and the room erupted in applause. He thought he could discern your laughter amidst the noise, and he was smiling when he looked up.

It took him a minute to return to you after the performance—people asked for more as he walked past, others were patting him on the back, and some guests, who turned out to have been in attendance at the previous party, gaily informed him that he did “much better than last time”.

His breathing was still heavy when he reached you, exhilarated.

Beaming even before he heard your response, he leaned against your table and lifted an eyebrow. “Well?”

“That might be the best performance that I’d ever seen,” you said. “I’m sure it’ll haunt my dreams. Thank you for that.”

There was enough genuine awe in your voice to make him laugh.

“So, you don’t regret coming here with me, then?” he asked. His eyes were glittering when he looked at you—with excitement, adrenaline, and hope.

“No,” you said. Your soft smile had rendered him completely incapable of looking away from you. “I’m actually glad I came. And not just because I got to see you sing Backstreet Boys in front of everyone.”

Heated suddenly, he said, “that stays between us.”

Even though you’d been looking forward to telling everyone on tour about this, you decided he deserved your agreement.

“Fine,” you said. “But it’s a shame the rest of the world wasn’t able to enjoy this.”

“Hmm,” he lifted his chin. “That was for your eyes only.”

“What about the rest of the guests?” you asked. There was a certain delight in your words that he noticed and quietly basked in.

“What guests?” he replied with a grin. “I said this was for you.”

You were shaking your head, but there was humour in your eyes and on your lips, and his own smile felt like it might cause his cheeks to tear.

There was nothing he wouldn’t have done for you at that moment. He was flushed, and his head was spinning. The entirety of his chest, it seemed to him, had begun to float.

He was happy.

You were still here with him, teasing and laughing. He’d seen his old friends get married, he’d seen them dance. He was about to join his band on tour, about to perform all across Europe.

Everything was going to be perfect. He just had to get this bet over with—quietly—and then figure out a way to expand the cavity of his chest, so it could contain his heart and the thousands of obnoxious, never-ceasing fluttering wings around it.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “the summoning”

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook slow burn #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook rockstar au #jungkook au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts au #bts rockstar au #bst angst #bts fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook reactions #jungkook imagine #bts imagines

[starpearlz]

Seven minutes -> Nikki Sixx

Summary -> 1975, you never expected to see an old classmate at a party especially be locked in a room with him for seven minutes.

Warnings -> says his old name once, making out but nothing too bad,

A/n -> I’m working on my request but I really wanted to right something for Nikki

2.0k words

Your intention was not to kiss him, but fate was chosen for you. You only live once especially just being seventeen, high school is either one of the shitiest, or the best years of your life. Your peak. No matter how bad it is, you’ll always remember those high school party.

Underage drinking, skinny dipping in the pool, people hooking up left and right, and stupid party games. You laid on your bed reading with the bright light from your new candle you had gotten earlier. You looked up to the sound of knocking, “go to sleep soon ok?” you nodded as she closed the door. No way, Linda said their was a party downtown.

You blew out your candle and climbed out your window. You would take your car, but you decided to ride your bike; just so your parents wouldn’t hear the car. You chuckled remembering the story your mom said how she got sneaking out with your grandmas car when she was in high school. Yeah, you’re not making the same mistake.

You finally pulled up to the house, wasn’t too long of a ride. But they lived on a hill, you put your bike near a bush hiding it and walking to the porch. It was a really nice house.. it was one of those houses that had big glass windows, maybe four bathrooms and a nice pool. Kids were coming in and out of the house you can tell it’s gonna be a god party by seeing red plastic cups.

You walked inside it was crowded with people you even saw two people making out on the stairs while two people were trying to get by. You walked down the hall to the kitchen and noticed Linda standing near the counter talking to someone, she may look like the sweet girl who makes cookies for a nursing home, but man she can party. “Linda!” I yelled out walking to her, she turned and started waving at you and gave a signal to go over.

You walked over too see that she was talking to some guy with a stubble who stood next to another guy with long brown hair. “Hey!” She yelled over the loud music before squeezing you into a hug. “This is Jasper, the guy I told you about! And this is his friend Nikki!” ‘Jasper’ hands were crossed as he gave a awkward wave. You looked at Nikki and pointed to him, “oh yeah I remember, we had a class together last year.. Frank!” He gave a shy smile, nodding his head looking down an the floor.

“Yeah.. I go by Nikki now.” He said looking back at you and you nodded “cool.” He nodded back as some girl grabbed Linda shoulders from behind. “Come on we’re playing spin the bottle!” You looked at Linda as she nodded grabbing your hand. You looked at Nikki, he looked back confused you shrugged following her.

You followed Linda into the living room, three guys were moving the small glass table while two girls started sitting on the floor. Linda sat down and you sat next to her. Next thing you knew their were a bunch of people that made a circle. You didn’t know the guy that sat next to you, you saw he had a letterman jacket and you could smell the alcohol on him.

You looked forward and saw Nikki in front of you as you smiled at him. “Whoever spins the bottle and whoever it’s pointed at has to go upstairs in the master bedroom for seven minutes.” People started whispering to each other until one guy got up and spun the bottle. The only bad part about this game is having too fully wait those seven minutes.

It’s already about forty minutes into the game, and the only interesting thing that’s happened is two guys getting each other. “Who’s next?” A blonde girl asked, your guessing that it’s the host. You looked forward hearing the sound of laughter, you saw Jasper laughing throwing Nikki’s hand up. He quickly shoved his hand down, “no give it a shot.” The blonde girl said getting up and passing him the bottle.

You couldn’t see his expression from the girl blocking your view, but his expression said it all s as she walked away. He crawled to the center and spun the bottle. The bottle spun slowly in suspense as it started to slowly stop.. to you. You looked up at him in shock, same as him. “Go on love birds!” The blonde girl said as Linda gave you a slight shove to go.

You two walked upstairs with the blonde girl leading the way. She pulled out a key and opened the door, when she opened the door you saw two girls making out. Making the blonde girl laugh loudly as the two ran out. She held out her hand as a motion for us to get in. The bed was huge taking up most of the room. You noticed the decorations wooden bed, a wooden desk and you even saw a deer head in the corner of the room. It would’ve creeped you out but it made you chuckle because someone threw a bra on it. You got in sitting the the corner of the bed and he sat next to you. The girl chuckled “have fun..” she said smirking closing the door and locking it.

“Seven minutes!” She yelled outside the door walking away. You sighed at the awkward tension in the room, you looked at him. “I’m sorry.. I know you didn’t want to do this…” you said maybe to relieve the tension. He shook his head “no it’s ok.. I’m happy it’s you rather than anyone else.” Your eyebrows furrowed is confusion, “why?” You said looking at him.

“Well.. you’re nice, I would’ve hated if I got someone like Michael..” he said shyly. He’s not wrong tho, Mike was a real asshole. “Well.. I’m happy I’m with you too.” You said smiling at him moving closer to where your knees were touching. “So.. why are you here?” You asked him as he took a sip out of his red cup, you didn’t even realize he brought it. “Free jack.” He said bluntly putting it on the wooden nightstand.

“Wait are you drinking straight up Jack?” He nodded as if it’s nothing making you chuckle. “That’s badass.” You said without even thinking, he shook his head “you’re pretty badass yourself.” You rolled your eyes. “Not even..” you said chuckling and he nodded “you are, like at the diner how you make those badass doodles.”

You looked at him in confusion, “how did you know that? I would’ve remembered you, I would’ve said hi!” He nodded, “I’ve only been there a couple times.. but you’ve never served me before.” You gave him a look, “that’s crazy.. I have to give you my number so I can tell you when my next shift is.” He gulped nodding, “I’ll.. I’ll definitely go then.” He said smiling.

You nodded smiling, “well, I’ll be waiting then..” you just realized how close you are too him, you can smell the booze on his lips. You bit your lip, you want to kiss him but at the same time you don’t know if he dose. He closed the gap kissing you slowly, almost like if was hesitant. You leaned more into the kiss you wrapped one of your arms around his neck and cupped his cheek.

You leaning in the kiss making him assertive, he put his hands on your hip and you slowly put your back on bed. You put your arm that was on his neck and wrapped your hand in his brown hair. He got a boost of confidence and started kissing you harder. You moaned in the kiss brushing through his soft hair, you opened your eyes and saw he was staring at you.

You freaked out and pulled away fast, making him think he messed up. “What— what’s wrong?” He asked slightly scared. As you started giggling, “nothing wrong, I wasn’t expecting you too have your eyes open..” you said still giggling. “I’m sorry..” you shook your head, “I know you have definitely kissed someone before.. just relax.” You said before kissing him again making sure his eyes closed.

Your have still tangled in his hair cupping his cheek. He moved his hands down to your ass fondling with them as you gave out a shocked moan. For him being so nervous earlier he sure is getting more confident. He pushed his tongue inside your mouth making you moan again.

He pulled away from you making you open your eyes gasping until he started kissing down your face. You picked up your head as he started sucking on your neck making you moan softly. “Nikki..” you moaned out. You can feel him marking up your neck. He moved his face and you saw his flushed face heavily breathing making you smile.

He smiled in confusion “what?” You shook your head. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize how pretty you are..” he rolled his eyes. “I should be telling you that.” He said before kissing you again. But this time it was slow and sweet. He pulled away again, “you want to know a secret?” He asked still out of breath.

“What?” You asked smirking amused. He bit his lip smiling. “I remember..” he stopped to chuckle making you scoff and gently nudged his shoulder, “what? What do you remember?” Your asked bending your elbow so you can stare at him. He sighed before staring back at you, “remember how you said that last year we had the class together?”

You nodded, you drank but you didn’t drink that much to not remember that conversation forty minutes ago. “I remember.. how much of a crush I had on you in that class.” You looked at him in shock and confusion, “really?” You asked softly making him nod. “I remember I saw you reading.. and seeing you in a ‘Black Sabbath’ shirt, and I thought you were the prettiest and sickest girl I’ve ever seen..” you two chuckled. “And then I found out you had worked at the dinner.. I only went two times, and one of them you weren’t even working.” He bit his lip debating on if he should keep going but he saw how happy you had gotten.

“And when I was there when you were working you were on break.. and I sat in the booth near the door, and I saw you sitting on the table close to the employee door. I was gonna walk up too you but, you looked so peaceful, just drawing your heart away. I felt like a creep for staring so I just left.”

You shook your head “you should’ve said hi, I would’ve been so happy.. and I don’t think you’re a creep.. the opposite even.” You said smiling at him cupping his cheek as he smiled back. You pulled him in again kissing him passionately. You giggled in the kiss going back to laying on your back.

Then the door slammed open as you gasped getting up. You saw the blonde girl again with Jasper and Linda. “It looked liked you two had fun.” Linda said it in a teasing way. Making you roll your eyes standing up, same with Nikki. “Are you two going next?” You asked to Linda and Jasper as she nodded.

You nodded too grabbing Nikki’s hand to walk out the door. “Oh wait,” Nikki said making you stop before your fully out the door. “Is it ok if I leave already?” Nikki asked Jasper as he nodded. “Have fun!” Linda said to you as Nikki grabbed your hand again. “You too!” You said before blondie closed the door.

“Where do you want to go?” Nikki asked making you think, “I could go for some pancakes at the diner.” Making Nikki chuckle kissing you. “You read my mind.”

#[ nikki sixx 🫀] #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #the dirt x reader #the dirt #mötley crüe #motley crue #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine #motley crue fic

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 13)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual-based jokes, references to having sex and The Lighting Thief Spoilers.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: Christmas in the Swiss Alps can be truly special if you are surrounded by the right people. Rafe steps up the birthday challenge between the two.

Masterlist

Thanksgiving comes and goes before anyone can bat an eye, which leaves room for Christmas to sneak in on everyone. The holiday, of course, beings with the couple taking part in their favourite pastime of cuddling while they slept under thick fluffy blankets. The only difference is they are currently in Y/N’s bedroom found in her family’s chalet in Verbier, Switzerland. Rafe had always been invited to the chalet and he always takes them up on the offer, only this time he gets to stay in the same room as Y/N. Y/N, ever the early riser, wakes up to see it is 6 A.M., which is still quite early for her seeing as it is the Winter holiday. The excitement from the holiday is the cause for such unpleasantness. She gets a little bored waiting for him to wake up and she knows she can’t go downstairs because it has been a family rule that no one is to be out of their rooms before 8 A.M. unless it is a bathroom emergency. 

She takes matters into her own hands, bringing her finger up to poke his cheeks. When that doesn’t work, she resorts to squeezing his cheeks into fishy lips. She can see him peek his eyes open and then close them again to pretend he went back to sleep, so she takes advantage of the situation. She puckers her lips pressing a kiss to his. She watches as one eyelid slowly peels back but quickly shuts once he sees her watching him. She removes her lips from his and giggles at his childish behaviour. “My rose, it is way too early for you to be waking me up,” he complains, bringing his face to be buried in the crook of her neck. She kisses his forehead, “I know. I’m sorry… Sort of. But I’m just excited about giving you your gift.” He chuckles at her statement. “Yeah, you did nail my birthday present. But I think my Christmas present to you has my birthday one beat. Although, I’m more excited about giving you your birthday present.” She gives him a quizzical look.

“But my birthday is like a month away still.’ 

“Haha, yeah. It took a lot of planning though, so I needed to get a jump on it. I just know you are going to love it tough. Now, can we please get a little more sleep before your cousin comes running into this room to wake us up?”

Y/N doesn’t bother to give a verbal response; instead opting to snuggle his head onto her chest and close her eyes. As predicted, the three-year-old girl comes barreling throw the door as soon as 8 o’clock hits the clock. The couple tries to hide their grogginess as they are being pulled by the hand of Bella towards the family room. The Y/L/N Christmas ritual begins once everyone settles in the room. Pictures in front of the tree by family then the whole clan together before moving on to the stockings for the children. Bella’s is filled with toy makeup for makeovers and toy cars. Franklin’s with baby snacks and toys. Mason’s with various stationery and eclectic kitchen utensils. Rafe’s with card games and miniature versions of lost treasures. Y/N’s with bookish items and various jewellery.

Finally, the main event is in full swing and wrapping paper can be seen littering the floor. The stack of books Y/N has received from various family members rivals Bella’s height. Rafe is also given many sweaters because it has not gone unnoticed by Y/N’s family members that his property is now also Y/N’s. “I hope it’s the right size, Rafe. Your muscles are a little bigger than I remember. Be careful with putting it in the wash though. It might shrink if you put it in the drier,” Grandma Matilda worries to Rafe, watching Rafe hold up the pastel blue ribbed knitted sweater that brings out the colour in his eyes. Rafe smiles up at Grandma Matilda, “It’s perfect. Thank you so much! I just know I’m going to have to wrestle this away from Y/N/N.” Y/N’s cheeks heat up knowing full well he is correct. “Just make sure all that wrestling is done with clothes on,” Grandma teases. “Grandma!” Y/N squeals in shock and embarrassment. “Mom, there are children here!” Marvin protests. 

The tips of Y/N’s ears heat up and he brings Y/N into his side so she can hide her face in his chest. Everyone is now down to their last presents and for Rafe and Y/N, it happens to be each other’s gifts. Both are small boxes with bows on top. “You go first. I got to open my present on my birthday,” Rafe insists, placing his box beside him. The rest of her family are busy in their own worlds, so she feels no pressure from their prying eyes. She carefully strips the box of its paper to have a small jewellery box in her hand. She opens it up, finding a small golden book-shaped locket placed within. She takes the locket out to see the picture inside and sees her favourite photo of Rafe and Sparky. Like he knew he was being thought about, Sparky chose at this moment to wake up from his nap on the couch and hurries his way into his Mommy’s lap. “Cameron, I love it. Look I think Sparky likes it too. Can you put it on for me please?” she asks, turning around and moving her hair out of the way so he can put the necklace on for her. 

He does as asked and gives Sparky a little head scratch to abide the pups whining for attention. Y/N observes the scene lovingly, placing her gift for him onto his lap. Rafe looks up at her happily and opens the gift. It appears as though they both had the same idea because in the box lays a golden chain with a small golden disc engraved with a rose. “It looks like we both had the same idea, my rose. This is perfect. I don’t know how I can top this.” He turns so she can put it on for him. Sparky brings his nose up to it to give it a sniff. With all the presents opened, Y/N and Rafe make their way to her balcony, wearing their new bling, to enjoy hot chocolate with a view of the Swiss Alps. 

——

The next day, Bella begs her older cousins to take her skiing. Mason and Rafe are both skilled in both snowboarding and skiing, while Y/N is only really comfortable with snowboarding because it is a little more similar to skateboarding. However, Bella all but demanded that everyone ski with her; probably because she didn’t want to be the only skier in the group. This results in Y/N being an absolute disaster on the slopes. The girl already rather stay inside the chalet near the fireplace with a book and a warm drink in hand than go out snowboarding in the cold. The only reason why she is preparing to face the cold is because she would do anything for her baby cousin. 

It is a good thing for Y/N that they can’t go on any bigger hills because of Bella. She is already struggling with just putting on the damn ski boot. “Cameron, come here,” she orders, placing her hands on his shoulders as he approaches. She uses his shoulders to keep her balance and she jumps to try to slip the boots on. Rafe chuckles as she watches the look of concentration on her face, which is similar to Bella’s face when he held her hands as she put on her boots. They have the same furrowed brows and they both stuck out their tongue to the right side. It is absolutely adorable. Y/N lets out a satisfied sigh once her foot is finally fitted into the boot. “These are so tight. Snowboard boots are more comfortable,” she grumbles with a little frowny face he can’t take seriously because of the massive pompom on her hat, a gift from her grandma. Rafe shakes his head and gives her a kiss on the forehead, “I know, my rose. I’ll give you a foot massage when we get back.” 

With the group prepared for the day's activities, they go out to the slopes. Y/N looks down at the hill before her and feels her nerves start to get to her at the deep slope. The last time she tried to learn how to ski, it had been a disaster. Four-year-old Y/N had tried her best to follow the ski instructor’s advice, but it didn’t stop her from going down the hill with her feet in pizza formation and her jacket riding up her back as her back is flat against the ground. Her parents had been met with a grumpy and overtired Y/N when they came to pick her up. Mason notices his sister’s apprehension and remembers that fated lesson. “You can hold my hand, then you won’t fall,” Mason offers, his hand held out for her to take. She smiles at him and takes it. Rafe looks down at Bella and offers her his hand, which she takes. 

It is a good thing both boys are already expert skiers because if not then the idea of holding hands while going down the hill would’ve been a disaster. It was still a disaster, just not for both pairs. Rafe and Bella were able to get down the hill without an issue, but the same can’t be said for the twins. Mason tried his best to keep them going down the hill at a relatively slow distance; however, Y/N’s panicked state made it difficult for him and she went down faster than her brother. At a certain point, she had no choice but to let go of his hands so they wouldn’t fall into an uncomfortable position. Her mind goes blank as it raced to think of a way to slow her down. This caused her to not see that she is about to hit a tree. An almost comedic thunk can be heard as her helmet-covered head hits the tree. 

Rafe immediately takes his skis off and runs over to check on her. Mason and Bella follow in tow. Rafe helps her up and quickly instructs her to keep her helmet on, remembering he once heard it is better to keep it on just in case. It may have only been in reference to football helmets or motorcycle helmets, but he isn’t about to take any risks with her. They are quick to get her in front of Aunt Millie, who is a doctor. She does a quick check of the niece and determines that she does not have a conscious but still instructs Rafe to keep an eye out for the signs of one. Y/N sits on the lounge chair in her room by the fire. Rafe sits at the edge of the chair and presses a washcloth full of ice against her forehead. “It seems like every time you go skiing you get into some sort of accident,” Rafe jokes, moving her hair out of her face. Again, she gives him a small pout, “I think you are right. Skiing doesn’t love me, but that’s okay because I really don’t like it either.”

Rafe laughs at her joke. “Speak to me in French. It’s so hot,” Rafe pleads to the injured girl. She giggles at the antics of her boyfriend and indulges in his desire. 

“Je t’adore. J’aime ton petit cul. C’est très adorable. Je veux le donner des petits tapes. Veux-tu me donner un bisou.”

“I have no idea what you are saying right now. It sounds pretty though. And I do recognize that last word.”

Rafe leans down, giving her a kiss on the lips as requested. The pair decide it is best not to go back out with Mason and Bella. Instead, they cuddle on the lounge chair and watch a movie together.

——

Having a twin meant that Y/N’s birthdays are never really her own. Even if she isn’t spending the day with Mason, Y/N would still wish her brother a happy birthday and it was never really a day where she could be in the spotlight amongst family and friends. It is always going to be a day for her and Mason. Nevertheless, January 31st is a day she loves to share with her twin brother. Rafe may have started focusing more on Y/N since they started dating, but he is determined to make sure Mason feels loved too. 

The first person he goes to when he arrives at their house is Mason to give him his gift. “Yo, happy birthday. Love you man. Here’s your gift,” Rafe states in the typical guy tone. He throws the gift onto Mason’s chest and jumps onto the bed, bouncing a little. Mason groans at being woken up early, “Ugh. Thanks, man.” He opens the gift to find matching sweaters and baseball caps. The sweaters have penguins reaching to high-five each other and the hats have dinosaurs doing the same. It is an adorable gift that brings a smile to Mason’s face. “These are awesome. I want the pink ones. I’m the Barbie in the relationship.” Rafe chuckles and takes the blue clothing for himself, “Ooh, I know. I’m just Ken in both of my Y/L/N relationships. Want to play some Mario Kart?” Mason laughs and agrees. The boys play a couple of rounds of the game before the hurricane known as Y/N makes her way into the room. 

She ploops herself on the bean bag in front of the bed and picks up a controller to play with them. “Happy birthday, Mace! We are officially adults. Aw, you are wearing the stuff I helped Rafe pick out.” Mason mirrors the celebratory statement to his sister without looking away from the screen. Rafe does the opposite and gives his full attention to the girl. “Happy birthday, my rose. I have so much planned for you and Mason today.” Rafe leans forward to give her a kiss on the forehead. “You get your present later when we are alone,” he whispers to her. She nods at his statement, returning her focus to the screen to beat the two boys. She may hate driving in real life, but she is absolutely a killer at Mario Kart. After losing multiple games against her, Rafe turns the game off so the three of them plus Lacey can start their day. 

 ——

They met Lacey at the super secret location for the twins. To both of their joy, they are taken to a glow-in-the-dark go-kart track. It’s as if the game they were playing this morning is a foreshadowing of the day's first event. Lacey squeals wrapping her hand around both of the twins’ necks, “Happy birthday to my favourite twins! Here are your gifts. Y/N/N, you might not want to take it out of the bag though. Just look at it through the tissue paper.” Y/N does as advised and sees the box which holds a naughty adult toy inside. “Lace! How scandalous?!” Rafe’s eyebrows cocks at his girlfriend’s shocked expression and looks over her shoulder to look at what she sees. “Hey, my rose does not need this. I can satisfy her just fine by myself!” he argues, trying to hand it back to the gifter.

Y/N's cheeks are flushed as she thinks of a dirty use for the toy. She stands on her tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “Imagine all the trouble we can get into this if we get separated for uni. It says you can control it through your phone.” Rafe’s interest is peaked at this revelation. He slowly pulls the bag back out of Lacey’s hand and puts it into his car. Without another word to the gift, the group makes their way into the go-kart place. The team gets suited up and into their respective karts. They do a few races around the tracks with each member of the group at least winning one round. The group tires after those races and decide it is time to get some lunch. Although Y/N did enjoy the go-kart, it was the activity Lacey and Rafe chose for Mason. The next location they chose is more geared towards Y/N. 

——

The group finds themselves in front of a bar called Book Nook and Y/N got giddy just by the name. “But we aren’t twenty-one?” she questions, her excitement subsiding a little bit at this realization. Rafe wraps his arm around her to bring her some comfort, “It’s okay. It’s an eighteen-plus club. They only serve mocktails and stuff. It’s mostly just for the vibes.” Y/N’s excitement boosts higher at the information and she all but runs directly into the bar. The aesthetic is Pinterest-worthy. The place feels like you just entered a magical forest filled with books and it is honestly Y/N’s dream. Apart from the chairs found at the bar, every couch and chair looks so comfy to sit on and read. The group gets themselves settled in a nice window seat at the back, then they all disperse to go peruse the books. Once they get settled with their books, they order lunch and drinks for the afternoon. 

——

They spent the rest of the day in the book bar and only made their way back to the twins’ house when Lacey had to go start dinner for everyone to eat. Lacey made all of their favourites and they had fun playing a few board and card games after dinner with the addition of Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N. They had ice cream cake and then separated for the night. Y/N is returning to her bedroom from her adjoining bathroom to see Rafe standing near the door looking nervous. He has his hands behind his back and she can see he is holding something into it. He smiles at her as she comes into view. He raises his hand over his head and waves the item like a flag. It reminds her of that fateful day before they started dating. She sees it is a rectangle-shaped gift wrapped in blue wrapping paper littered with tridents. 

Y/N had completely forgotten that he wanted to give her a gift without the prying eyes of anyone else. She jumps to try to take the gift and gives a quick huff when he doesn’t bring it down closer. He gives her a smirk and puckers his lips. Instead of giving in to his bullying, she stands up on the window sill and leaps to get her gift. Finally able to get it, she opens it up carefully. In the wrapping paper, she finds a beautiful hardcover copy of The Lighting Thief. She recognizes it from the Juniper Books website. As any book lover would do when looking at a book, she opens it to admire the words found on the pages. She is immediately shocked to see the black printed ink is accompanied by blue handwritten ink. On the title page, she finds a note addressed to her: 

My Rose,

I know you are probably going to be scandalized by the fact that I’m writing in a book, but I hope you can forgive me because I wanted to share with you my thoughts on one of your favourite worlds. Before we started dating, I never found reading interesting. However, my life has opened up to so many different incredible worlds because of this book and you. Every note written in this book is written with you in mind and I hope it demonstrates just how much I love you. Because you really have changed my life for the better and I can’t be more grateful for it. Happy 18th Birthday, my rose! 🔱

Love, Your Cameron

Y/N thumbs through the pages to get an idea of the notes and stops on one particular note that needed to be continued in tiny writing at the bottom of the page. Rafe had underlined: “She glanced at the Minotaur horn in my hands, then back at me. I imagined she was going to say, You killed a Minotaur! or Wow, you are awesome! or something like that. Instead, she said, ‘You drool when you sleep’” on page 64 of The Lightning Thief. He wrote: This reminds me of when I raced your brother when I first met you and Mason. When I won, I really thought you were going to be amazed at my swimming skill, but then you completely took me off guard with your lie and I have to say, I loved your cheekiness. 

Y/N looks at Rafe with tears in her eyes, touched by the romantic gesture. She jumps into his arms and kisses him on the lips, resulting in them falling back into bed together for a blissful night of showing each other just how much they love each other. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog​ @gillybear17 @terraeluce @f4ll-for-you @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @rafegirly

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #outer banks rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #outer banks x you #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks #outerbanks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction

[nosesitter]

Boss!Joel Miller pt 2

2.3k words

It’s Monday and it’s time to be bent over a desk.

a/n: after 4 months being off birth control I’ve finally gotten my period. Feeling like death but the ideas are pouring out. Next thing I post is more than likely going to be very dubcon, dumb innocent reader and evil Joel and Tommy Miller I need both of them ASAP and idc who judges me

⚠️: boss!joel, mean!joel, spanking, oral m,f receiving, breath play, throat fucking, BRIEF mention of ass play, fingering, spiting, tongue fucking, p in v, no condom pull out and pray 😀, squirting, cream pie, mmm maybe slight voyeurism, office/public sex.

Sitting in the parking garage of your office building there’s been a bubbling feeling in you since you opened your eyes this morning. You look over at the pair of heels sitting in their box that you bought brand new this weekend. Thinking about how Joel was acting that night when you had dressed slutty made you rethink your wardrobe. A black pencil skirt, buying it did make you skeptical but when you put it on it honesty hugged your lower figure nicely. White blouse, the first couple buttons undone for dramatic effect, so it won’t show underneath you’re also wearing a white lace bra.

Taking a deep breath you turn off your car and open the door before stepping out you slip on the pointy black heels, wondering what Joel would think. You walk to the elevator and have to remember that you’re not at your old office anymore and press the button for Joel’s floor, now half yours. Before the door could close an arm slips right through opening back up.

“Glad I caught ya!” It’s Tommy he’s looking very good this morning. Hair slicked back still wet from a shower. His cologne so strong and good it fills the whole elevator.

“How’s your grandma?” He asks as the elevator begins to go up.

“She’s doing better, she was happy to see me. We hung out had dinner, really nice night.” You feel as if Tommy believed none of that as he just gives you a ‘mmm’ and continues to stand there smiling like he knows a secret. You decide not to play into it and just stay silent. It’s Joel’s younger brother of course he told him you think to yourself but can’t help but feel a little hurt that he couldn’t just shut up.

The elevator dings and then opens. Tommy lets you walk out first and then parts ways to Joel’s office. Behind the white stained glass you can see Joel’s shadow standing at his window while the sun shines right through. You look over to your office and just head over there not wanting to be the elephant in the room. Opening the door to your office you see a bouquet of roses sitting right on your desk. It honesty catches you off guard. Rounding your desk you grab the note right from the top and open it up.

Can’t wait to put my mouth to work on you later! xx JM

The smile on your face is stupid and goofy but it makes you want to twirl around. You remain calm and just focus on the feeling of your clit pulsing in your panties. Suddenly taken from your thoughts and back into your office comes Tommy and Joel. Taking the note in your hand and crumbling it immediately and tossing it into the first drawer you open.

“Well well well, who are these from?” Tommy asks as he comes over to sniff the roses from his brother. You shrug your shoulders and make eye contact with Joel who’s been looking at you since he walked in. Excitement fills your body as he sneaks a wink at you then his face goes stoic as Tommy turns back to him.

“The sourpuss and I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the top floor, also if you’re not doing anything for lun-“ Joel’s quick to interject he had hoped to have you spread open on his desk, your panties wrapped around his cock and his face buried deep in between your legs.

“I won’t be joining I have a big meeting.” That’s all he says and Tommy just sits there, eyes squinted at him. Tommy’s his supervisor if Joel had a big meeting he’d know.

“Right, well if you change your mind it could just be us two.” Tommy sends a wink your way and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the attention. Joel notices this. He just continues to sit there even after Tommy’s left just looking at you situate your stuff on your new desk.

“Take your panties off.” You look up at him from your laptop and feel that pulse in your clit come back. You knew you’d get eaten out but didn’t think it would happen this early. Standing from your desk you come around and stand right in-front of Joel. He’s sitting there in your leather chair man spreading obviously. Your hands go for the zipper on the side of your skirt, not wanting to break eye contact with Joel he licks his lips as you let the skirt fall and bunch around your heels.

Anyone could walk into your office the door isn’t locked at all. The rush, the excitement, the loud pulse in your clit it’s all so much. Joel’s eyes glare down to your white lace thong that barely covers your pussy. He inhales through his nose and leans forward to pull you closer to him by your hips. Stepping out your skirt you move forward as he just sets his head on your lower abdomen. His fingers begin to pull down the band of your panties. Your hands going for his shoulders to steady yourself as he slips the lace past your calves and around your ankles.

“There’s already a wet spot in here slut.” Joel holds your panties up to you to show you your arousal that he caused. It almost feels like he’s rubbing your face in it. Like you couldn’t not think about him and his cock for a few minutes. Joel’s hand goes straight for your neck as he pulls you down to his level.

“Over my lap now.” You haven’t bothered speaking. You know anything you have to say Joel won’t care he does as he pleases and doesn’t care because who’s going to stop him? Looking over to the door once again and thinking about the various voices passing by, the work phones ringing, and Tommy who could come back at any moment looking for his brother.

You place a hand on the chair and feel your body involuntarily move over his thighs. You couldn’t stop even if you tried you want this and he knows you want this. You ass is completely out and laying over him. The air causing goosebumps to rise all across your skin Joel notices and begins to rub his warm big hand over your ass.

You try to brace for the moment he slaps you but he just keeps rubbing your skin. After a few seconds of him doing this your guard goes down and within a split second Joel makes his move. His right hand going up and his left hand that holds you panties going over your mouth to muffle your screams. His hand comes down and a twack echos the walls of the room. He rubs it again and then gives you another spank. This time he whispers into your ear.

“You like the attention Tommy gives you?” You shake your head no while tears begin to fill the corners of your eyes. “He’s just a spoiled younger child who wants what I have.” His hand comes down a third and final time with a lot more force than the first two causing you to squirm around. Without a doubt there’s a wetness spreading around like honey between both of your thighs. Joel’s anger is turning you on beyond belief. Fighting over you like you’re a toy. This is the Joel you know the mean dick everyones scared of, but you don’t mind the sweet Joel who sends you flowers talking about eating you out.

Joel presses a kiss to your head then helps you stand. “I don’t think I’m going to be sitting for a bit.” He just chuckles as he stands and rearranges his hard on into the band of his belt. You hold your hand out for your thong but Joel just pockets it and begins to walk out.

“I’m having lunch in my office so be there.” He sends you a wink and instead of your cheeks blushing your clench around nothing thinking about your time later.

———

You’ve been watching the seconds pass by extra slow since your interaction with Joel and the planning of your exciting lunch date. Sitting in your chair finally ass kinda sore and your wetness seeping into your skirt. By the time 1 rolls around you can’t even think about eating anything when you’ve been promised an orgasm. You stand from your desk and head over to Joel’s office feeling the wetness drip down your thighs.

You knock lightly and then let yourself inside. There he is behind his desk on the phone. He gives you a sly smile and then scoots his rolling chair out. You just stand there looking at him as he’s so focused, you know he wanted to eat you out but you can’t help but tease him right now. Gathering your hair on one side you begin to fall to your knees. Still talking on the phone he tries to shake his head no to you but you’re not going to listen. You grab at his belt and begin to unbuckle it. Putting your hand inside of his underwear band you pull his cock out that’s beginning to harden in your hand.

He holds his hand over the phone. “Please, just want to taste you- nothing Paul just talking to Tommy.” You giggle as you begin to kitten lick his tip tasting the tangy precum gathering at the top. He lets out a sigh as you wrap your lips around the head and swirl your tongue around him.

“Let me call you back with those results Paul, I’ll see you at the golf course this Saturday!” He says sounding pretty excited to end the phone call. The phone slams on the receiver and Joel’s lets out a loud groan and then as your whole mouth is over his dick he grabs your nose and the back of your head and begins to fuck your mouth roughly.

“Why can’t ya’ fucking listen, damn slut.” As tears begin to spill out your eyes you try to close them to focus on not gagging on Joel’s thick cock stretching your throat.

“Uh uh baby open those eyes, lemme see ‘em.” Your hands pushing on his thighs, his fingers closing your nose. It’s scary that you can’t breathe but absolutely erotic that he has that control. He lets go and stops trusting into your throat causing you to lean back onto your thighs trying to catch your breath, wiping away the stings of spit falling from your mouth.

“Get that skirt off and lean over the desk, fucking slut.” He pulls you up roughly by your arm and stands with you, untucking his shirt from his pants and loosening the black tie around his neck. Once again your hands are reaching for the zipper and letting the skirt bunch around your ankles the wetness between your thighs hitting the air and sending a chill through your body. You can hear Joel’s chair squeak as he sits back into it and rolls toward your welcoming cunt. His lips pressing a kiss to your wet entrance. Taking a deep breath there’s a knot in your stomach that can’t wait to unravel right here on Joel’s desk. His tongue curving up to lick from clit to your other puckered hole causing you to bend back up but Joel’s quick to push you back down with one hand.

“Maybe one day I can give this other hole some love, maybe put a plug in ya’.” He gives it another kiss then brings his fingers to your clit.

“Look at that you’re drippin’ doll. All smeared in your thighs you’ve been thinking about this, huh?” Soft whimpers are coming from your mouth as Joel slowly traces his fingers around your entrance he’s expecting an answer from you but you’re too horny right now to think.

His pointer and middle fingers push right into you and curve up your mouth falling open as you’re immediately feeling full from his two fingers. You might be soaking wet but that doesn’t stop Joel from spitting right at his fingers gushing into your cunt. The noises you hear make you moan in ecstasy as the burn disappears and his tongue begins to lick and soak up your upcoming orgasm. A hard slap comes down on you ass jump starting your brain to answer your boss.

“I’ve been thinking about this all weekend, sir.” You can never lie to Joel especially when he’s tongue fucking you. His beard scratching the back of your thighs as his big nose is pressing onto you his tongue rapidly swirling inside of you.

“Oh fuck I need to fuck you again.” His mouth separates from you as he stands and then immediately slides himself inside of you giving you no time to get used to his thick cock. He bottoms out quickly you can feel all that spit and cum just press against the both of y’all. Your hands begin pushing little things off. A cup holding pens, his stapler, a picture of him and Tommy. Grasping the front of the desk you brace for each thrust Joel gives you.

“C’mon baby make some noise, everyone’s gone for lunch it’s just us, please I wanna hear you scream my name.” Joel gets wrapped up in your cunt and he’s singing sweet symphonies in your ear. Begging so sweetly that you give in to what he wants. Your legs are spread and shaking, your heels clicking against the ground below you. Joel’s hand comes around your leg and right to your clit as he begins to rub it between his pointer and middle finger.

You can’t last much longer and Joel must know this because your knees buckle but he’s quick to push your whole body onto the desk. His papers sticking to your lower body. The desk screeching slowly forward with each of his rough thrusts. You manage to push yourself up a little and look back at him. Sweat and the feel of humid sex has flattened his hair that’s getting stuck to his forehead. His white shirt is unbuttoned and his softened stomach is peeking out. Black and white chest hair and a happy trail leading straight to the ruly patch of pubic hair above his cock.

“Joel please, I’m gonna explode!” You can’t hold it anymore that bubbling sensation you woke up with has snowballed into a giant ball of electrocuted feelings. The hair on your arms standing up, your legs going numb, and the feeling like you’re gonna pee all over the floor.

“Cum on my cock baby, fuck-uh!” Joel’s thrusts are pressing your gushing orgasms right back at you. So intense that you’ve managed to squirt all over him. You can fucking hear it drip onto the floor. Screams are coming from your mouth, tears coming from your eyes and the feeling of Joel painting your cervix with his cum is so amazing. His thrusts are slow now you can feel the inside of his thighs quake against you as he drains his balls inside of you. He couldn’t come again today even if he tried, the both of y’all a panting and breathless mess. Joel’s chair creeks again as he sits back in it. His hand goes for yours that’s pushing yourself up slowly.

“Relax honey, sit.” He pulls you into his lap and begins acting soft. Asking you how you feel and beaming about how proud he is that you had such an intense orgasm. Wiping the sweat for your brow and your hair out of your face you take a look at the damage around the room. His stuff is everywhere the desk is slightly moved and it reeks of sex. You can hear the sound of people coming back from lunch as work sounds like it’s beginning slowly again. Joel pulls your panties from his pocket and hands them back to you.

“Guess we should get outta here and clean up?” It sounds like Joel’s inviting you to his place and you can’t say no as he looks at you with those big brown eyes, he just gave you the most insane orgasm of your life you can’t say no to him, not now at least. As you regain feeling in your legs and cool down you start to redress so you can leave. Joel’s gathering his things together, and moving the desk back when there’s a knock at the door. The both of y’all turning to look at each other.

“Don’t fucking open that door!” Joel shouts out from the other side of the white stained glass you can see a small employee run away from the door. There’s the Joel you know.

————🌹💻🗄️

reblog, comment, validate me 🫶🏻

0718

#joel miller smut #dark joel miller #joel x female reader #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #mean!joel miller

[obsidiancreates]

One Undead To Another (Chapter 6)

(Trigger warnings: drinking as self-medication is briefly mentioned/shown, more mentions of Shawn's neck wound being Very Bad, blood drinking, murder.)

“I’m starving.”

Something about Shawn’s voice makes all three other inhabitants of the car freeze.

There’s a desperation to it, but something else, too. Some underlaying quality that feels wrong, the way the air in the house was Choked with Nothing and the way seeing Shawn bloodied and motionless and devoid of life was inconcievable and the way that-

That-

The car is silent until Lassiter speaks up. “How’s his neck, Guster?”

“I cleaned it up, but-” Gus glances over, and his entire stomach leaps into his throat. It’s horrible, it’s mangled, and it’s Shawn. “Oh my god, I can’t look at it-”

“Do not throw up in this vehicle!” Gus wants to argue that Lassie and Jules are the ones getting vampire ashes and rotten blood all over the seats, but he’s too busy gagging. He tries to look at Shawn just out of the corner of his eye- Shawn is slumped in his seat. He looks like he should be breathing raggedly. He’s not breathing at all.

“Carlton, that’s not the priority right now!” Jules twists in her seat to look back at Shawn and Gus, and when Shawn laughs- quiet and raspy and in a way Gus would almost describe as rapturous, she softens.

And then the ghost, the ghost- Gus can’t handle the ghosts. Sitting in the seat between him and Shawn is Shawn’s grandma, which is freaky enough, but now Shawn’s grandpa is here too sitting inside the passenger seat and probably phasing a little into Jules as well and both ghosts are holding Shawn’s hands looking at him like he’s the dead loved one.

… He kind of is. Gus doesn’t want to think about that. The thought won’t leave him alone.

The ghost of Shawn’s grandpa, right after Shawn laughs, says in an almost scolding tone, “Didn’t your grandmother tell you to stop that kinda thinking?”

Gus wishes he’d been paying attention to the conversation Shawn had been having with his grandma before- or maybe it’s better he didn’t. He hopes he doesn’t know what Shawn was thinking, because his theory is-

Too much. Too much to handle right now.

The car is silent as Shawn talks in weak mumbles to his grandfather, as they start to play a game, as Shawn’s body language goes from limp and tired to limp and relaxed. It’s only then, when he seems completely disconnected from everything, that Lassiter once again breaks the silence.

“I’m driving to the hospital.”

“Carlton, he’s– he’s not–”

“He’s hurt.”

“Hospital can’t help him now, Detective.”

Lassiter, Jules, and Gus all scream in unison as Mary Lightly pops out of the dashboard like it’s a Whack-A-Mole game. Lassiter nearly swerves right off the road, Jules having to reach right through Mary’s head to yank the wheel back the other way at the last second!

Mary is unphased- mentally. Physically, he’s phasing through quite a lot. “You saw what was down there, Detective. You know what happened to him.”

Lassiter grips the steering wheel so tight Gus could swear he hears something crack- a knuckle or a car part, it’s intimidating either way. “He needs medical attention.”

“He needs a coffin.” Mary’s ghost angles his head to look at Shawn, but gets a stern and upset glare from Shawn’s Grandma instead. “That was insensitive. It’s true though. He’s going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow…”

“Can it, Lightly,” Lassiter growls, looking a little green. “Unless you want to tell us what the hell happened in there I don’t want to hear a word.”

“You know what happened down there.”

“No, we really don’t. Mary, please tell us what Shawn was onto, why they had him tied up, why any of this happened!” Jules is pleading, but demanding- she’ll get her answers nicely, or she’ll get them unpleasantly, but either way she will get them. “Why did they do this to him?”

Mary looks at her, and nods once. “Because–” Mary looks Gus in the eyes. “-- he’s psychic.”

Gus closes his eyes. He remembers his lamaze breathing. He prays to god it’ll keep his heart and brain from exploding.

“They needed a psychic because of us. This.” Mary raises a see-through hand out of the air conditioner control knobs and gestures at himself and the other two ghosts. “Spirits congregate around psychics and other undead do not… like our presence. Though they didn’t expect quiet as explosive an ordeal as what went down.”

“What, they knew you’d be there and just didn’t plan for it? Bull.” Lassiter grips onto the story, the ability to poke holes, the ability to be skeptical and analytical and distracted.

“Exactly, Detective. Most psychics don’t do what Shawn does. Most spirits feel neutral at best towards those they follow. But Shawn… he actually uses his gifts to get justice. He’s haunted by fondness more than anything else.”

“They were all repaying him for solving their murders.” Jules’s voice is soft.

“He’s a favorite among the lingering dead. Psychics aren’t just people who can see futures, pasts, or spirits, Detectives. Shawn is one of the living connected to the world of the dead… or he was. This… upset the balance.” Mary gestures at Shawn’s whole body. Shawn himself is still completely disconnected– staring with unblinking, wrong-colored eyes, mumbling nonsense stories to his encouraging grandparents.

“And it let you all into the world?” Jules twists to look back at Shawn again. “Is this permanent?”

“No. In fact I’d say we have…” Mary licks his thumb and sticks it out, looking around at seemingly nothing before nodding to himself. “The rest of this car ride to stick around. Then it’ll be back to the invisible overlapping planes, giving Shawn snippets, and leaving what gets through to him up to the universe’s whims. Be patient with him after this, Detectives. His abilities are going to be… like a whole new experience.”

For a while no-one has anything to say. Mary stays risen out of the dashboard, just watching them all.

“... Is he going to be… Shawn? When this is all over?” Gus knows his voice doesn’t actually sound like when he was a child, but that’s what he hears. He hears himself, young and confused and scared, asking if his best friend is going to be okay.

“Of course he will, which means it’ll be a mixed bag. You know that, Gus.”

Jules swallows. “But will he be different? Himself, but… different? I mean, in the movies it always–”

“Exatrabates the worst traits, makes a spawn a manipulative mess, drains away all self-control in the internal battle for their eternal soul?” Mary finishes for her. “There’s not many former vampires among us, Detectives, so I can’t say for sure what will happen to him. Even the dead don’t know everything.”

“Right. Right. … So we should approach this with… caution. I know, we were going to already, but–”

Shawn’s head makes a thunk sound as it falls down from the glass onto the plastic interior of the door. Gus sits up and starts to reach over, heart pounding as images of Shawn lifeless and pale on the floor of a horrible basement flash to the forefront of his mind-

Shawn’s Grandma grabs his hand before he touches Shawn. “He’s just asleep dear. Best not to touch him yet. Just in case.” She pats Gus’s hand comfortingly. “Let him rest.”

“He usually snores.” Gus’s voice clogs in his throat, coming out thick and hard to understand. Shawn isn’t snoring now. He’s silent. Nothing moves, or makes the faintest hint of noise, or shows life. Because there is no life.

Shawn’s Grandma rubs his hand again. “I know. It… it’ll be difficult to get used to.” 

More silence.

“... One the bright side, he was bitten by daywalkers,” Mary says just as they turn onto the street of Shawn’s latest apartment. 

“Now’s not the time for puns,” Lassiter growls.

“I agree, did I make one?”

“Actually, I think Shawn’ll find it pretty funny. I’ll tell him… when he wakes up,” Gus says.

Because Shawn, Shawn, has to wake up. It has to be him, he has to, because if he doesn’t or if-if something else does–

He just… has to.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The ghosts fade away entirely moments after Lassiter parks. Shawn’s face twists in his sleep for a moment, confused, as he reaches out restlessly to find the now-missing hands on his.

He gets Gus and Lassie hefting him up by his shoulders and legs instead, somehow staying asleep through the ordeal of getting him inside his apartment and dropping him onto his bed. He lays splayed out, arms and legs staying wherever they fell as Lassie and Gus heaved and tossed him. He’s still ashen, and still, and silent. 

He looks like a corpse.

“Excuse me a second.” Gus runs into the bathroom and lets loose little more than bile. He retches until he can’t, and then some more, and by the time he stumbles out Shawn has shifted and is now cradling a pillow to his chest. Lassie and Jules stand over the bed, whispering harshly to each other.

“-- give him a chance! Mary said–”

“That he doesn’t know, O’Hara.” Lassiter swallows thickly. “I don’t like it either.”

“You’ve been talking about shooting him for four years.”

“I don’t mean it! Not lethally, anyway. Usually. … Only half the time.”

“Oh, hell no.” Gus puts himself between the detectives and the bed. “You two are not debating staking Shawn while I was throwing up!”

“No, we are not.” Jules levels Lassiter with a glare. 

“Yes, we are.”

“You just risked your life to save him, now you wanna kill him?! You’re messed up, Lassie.”

“I don’t want to kill him! But look at him, Guster!”

Gus looks. He sees Shawn, hurt and vulnerable and tired.

“Look at his teeth.”

Shawn’s mouth is slightly parted in sleep, even though no breaths are drawn or exhaled. Gus doesn’t want to see them. He doesn’t want to, but they’re unmissable. Peeking out from the corners of his mouth, sharp and gleaming and dangerous.

He knew they’d be there- he knew what was happening, he was even told outright, but somehow seeing the fangs makes it hit all over again like it’s a surprise and this whole night- no, these just past couple of hours are too much, too much, too much and he collapses.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“He’s Shawn!”

“He could kill someone.”

“He could always kill someone, anyone can kill someone!”

“O’Hara–”

“We did not go through all of that to not even give him a chance to prove he’s capable of staying himself.”

“What if he ends up like them, O’Hara? That’ll be on us.”

“Oh my god, Carlton, that is the most selfish-”

“Not because of that, O’Hara, because we let it happen! Those other ones almost drove us to declaring three murders a cold case.”

“But Shawn caught them! He saw through it!”

“And now he’s also a bloodsucking demon spawn!”

They’ve been going in circles, over and over. Gus passing out didn’t stop them, just paused the argument long enough to make sure he didn’t hit his head and then pick it right back up. 

And Juliet knows. She knows why her partner is saying all of this, even when he doesn’t want to, she knows he doesn’t want to say it. But he’s right. If Shawn wakes up, and it’s his face but not him, what can they do? He was already a whirlwind, a force of nature in plaid shirts and jeans, and unstoppable force and immovable object meshed into one. What would he be without a sense of morality? What could he do?

… But it’s Shawn. He has fangs and skin colder than ice and no heartbeat but he’s also cuddling a pillow, and mumbling Gus’s name in his sleep, and he was laughing in the car and it’s him.

“Fine.” Juliet looks around and finds a broken bit of a fence among Shawn’s seemingly entirely random collection of belongings. She shoves it into Lassiter’s hands. “Do it, then.”

He’s visibly taken aback by the sudden change. “Are you serious?”

“Are you?”

They stand in that impasse for a moment, staring each other in the eyes, Lassiter’s hesitant and unsure and Juliet’s hardened and blazing– those red-eyed bloodsuckers could only wish for a glare like hers.

“Alright.” Lassiter squares his shoulders, then shakes them, then rolls them. He clears his throat, and raises the “stake”. He steps closer to the bed, over Gus’s unconscious body, and just above Shawn.

Juliet’s heart pounds.

Lassiter stands over Shawn, The dim lights, in deperate need of replacing, glint off of the fresh fangs in the corners of his mouth. He mumbles something unintelligible in his sleep, lips drawing back to show them in full. His eyes flutter open for just a second, bright red and–

And glazed, unfocused. He reaches out for something, and doesn’t find it, and his face crumples. His eyes shut again, and for the first time since Lassiter laid eyes on him in that basement Shawn draws breath- just to heave a sigh and fall back into breathless sleep, clutching the pillow closer to his body.

Lassiter stands there, holding a stake above Shawn, trying to see the danger here– the fangs and eyes and bloodless skin. He tries to summon up some of the fury, the irritation, the desperate pleas to the universe to just remove Spencer from his life already. It’s usually available in spades, when Shawn is running around like an idiot and making stupid declarations just to undermine him and cracking jokes at the worst times and encouraging Lassiter to go down completely untrodden paths of nonsensical hunches and trying to give him credit to The Chief and helping him primp for a date and–

And–

“... Dammit.” Lassiter lowers his arm, and then chucks the broken fence into a pile of other random stuff. “Damn it to hell!”

Juliet lets out a breath she’d been holding since Shawn opened his eyes, putting her hand on her partner’s shoulder. “We’ll see what the situation is first,” she says softly. “And I have no doubt Shawn will be his usual self when he wakes up. He always is.”

“... You’re probably right.” Lassiter looks down and kicks Gus lightly in the thigh, waking him up. “Spencer’s too much of a stubborn ass to let anything change him anyway. Even death.”

Gus groans and sits up. “That was the weirdest dream…” He looks up at Lassiter and Jules, and then at Shawn on the bed, and the blood drains out of his face. “Oh my god. It wasn’t a dream.”

Jules helps Gus stand back up. “Not a dream, but, Carlton and I came to an agreement. We’re going to make sure Shawn is fine before we do anything rash.”

“Oh. Good, ‘cause, I would’ve hated having to whoop Lassie’s ass.”

“Please. You couldn’t even beat me in a thumb-wrestling contest, much less and actual fight.”

“I could too.”

“You and Spencer fight like toddlers. Even before all this he was a biter, that’s the lowest move available to a grown man.”

“No, the lowest move is a knee to the- you know.”

He and Lassiter both wince just thinking about it. Jules rolls her eyes, and looks at Shawn. “So are we just… waiting for him to wake up now?”

“Seems like it.” 

There’s a beat of silence.

“I’m seeing if he has any whiskey.” Lassiter walks out into Shawn’s “kitchen”- if it could be called that. This particular apartment used to be a small yoga studio, which means lots of open space and nowhere for a stove. The fridge is barely even a minifridge, and all it has is half a leftover burrito. Instead of cabinets there are plastic tubs, and they’re mostly full of non-perishable junky snacks.

“Great. As if tonight isn’t the biggest reason to get drunk I’ve had in my entire life, including my separation.”

“I think he’s going to be out for a while,” Jules sighs, coming into the “kitchen” as well. “Gus even pretended to use his hair gel and he still stayed asleep.”

Lassiter looks at the door. “... I think we need to go to a bar.”

“A bar? Carlton, we’re covered in ash and blood and Shawn could wake up any time.”

“I know, O’Hara. I just–” Lassiter brings a hand up to smooth his hair, and it’s shaking. “Could use a drink.”

“... Yeah. I could too.” Jules sighs. “But we can’t just leave Gus here. I know I said… but he was mumbling about being starving before…”

“And even if Guster gets away…”

“... But I can’t even imagine that. Can you? Shawn just… attacking someone?”

“O’Hara, before tonight I didn’t even believe Spencer was psychic.”

“Right. … Still, it seems genuinely impossible that could ever happen. Shawn just doesn’t…”

“... It does seem pretty impossible. Spencer and Dangerous don’t even feel like apart of the same language when put together.”

“Right?”

“... What if we put a cross in front of his door? To hold him inside?”

“... Actually…”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus would have bet his entire 401K on the certainty he’d never go to a bar with Lassie and Jules without Shawn before tonight. And he almost hadn’t, until Shawn rolled over and Gus caught sight of his neck again and had another fit of gagging and crying that ended with Jules helping him nurse a cup of warm tap water while Lassiter tried and failed to find non-stale crackers.

So now he’s nibbling at peanuts, drinking more heavily than he has since he got married in a sweater vest with a goat as his best man, and trying to forget that he saw his friend dead on the ground less than four hours ago.

He’s not succeeding at it yet, and it looks like Lassie and Jules aren’t either- so another round of shots are called for, and maybe this time it’ll be enough to make his hands stop shaking.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SMASH!

The sound of breaking glass doesn’t get him up. Nor does the unsubtle hiss of pain, or the thump of clumsy boots against the ground.

The smell of blood is what makes him open his eyes. Not quite awake, though- not really. He’s in a haze, and he’s dreaming, and he’s hungry.

“Stupid window,” he hears a voice mutter. “Wh- since when is this- aw hell, how outdated is my small businesses map? There’s nothing worth more than fifty bucks in here.”

He’s not sure when he got up- isn’t that the most disorienting part of dreams? Things just Happen, and there’s no trackable reasoning for it. One second he was on the bed, the next he’s crouched low in his doorway, out of immediate eyeline, just like it was drilled into him to do…

“Does this heap at least have band-aids somewhere? Sss, ah, crap. Right through my glove, this is- ah, shit, if anyone’s home I’m toast. … Nah, nah, someone woulda woken up by now.”

It doesn’t smell quite as good as… actually, he’s not sure what he’s comparing the smell to. Is he comparing? This is a weird dream. His stomach hurts. His mouth hurts just as bad. When he takes a deep breath, he can taste iron in the air. The breath holds in his chest. Doesn’t he usually have to breath out? His chest doesn’t hurt though. It doesn’t matter anyway. How hasn’t this wannabe burglar noticed him? He’s practically getting a piggyback ride from the man.

Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Bum-bum.

It’s still missing something. He doesn’t know what. But it’s still good.

“Not a single band-aid, who lives like thi- mmmph!”

Warm. It’s warm, tangy, a little sweet. It coats his throat like a pineapple smoothie after hours of pouring over a stubborn case without a break. Dry, cracked, raw- it all goes away, smoothed over as it flows down his throat. His neck starts to hurt less- had it been hurting the whole time? His stomach was. It’s finally calming down. He bites harder. What is he biting? He doesn’t know. What a weird dream. It’s all gone so, so soon. He drops something. Something big hits the floor. He turns his cloudy vision away and stumbles back to bed. He collapses onto it, grabbing a pillow and curling loosely around it. He’d woken up feeling cold, stiff, but now he sinks into his mattress. The breath finally leaves his lungs, a deep sigh, as he drifts back into a more restful sleep than he ever had in his life.

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

[swifty-fox]

okay so I’m not going to go into any details here but I just finished “what comes after” and oh. my. god. you captured the feelings of the person on the other end perfectly.

for me it wasn’t anyone as close as a husband, and I wasn’t there to see it, but they texted me one evening and I swear I just knew. and I knew they were in a pretty bad place, but I don’t think anyone had realized just how bad, and I have so many mixed feelings about all of it? And you somehow managed to write that and make it so tragic and so beautiful and. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here. I guess I just wanted to say thank you? Thank you for treating the subject so delicately and so fairly and thank you for adding the part about Curt and how he’s there to help and I know it’s “just” fanfiction, but I need you to know how much of an impact it had on me.

so. yeah. thank you. and I’m sorry to spring this on you just like this (if it makes you uncomfortable I’m so sorry! please don’t feel like you have to respond!), I swear I’m not saying any of this to make you feel bad for me or anything. my friend is in a much better place and everything is okay. call this the incoherent ramblings of a person who should’ve gone to bed hours ago now. thank you. thank you thank you thank you thank you <3

theres three experiences in my life I pulled from for this fic

my little brother has been to a psych ward three times in my life, two in the last two years. The second time (March 2023) he called me the day before in great spirits and laughing about a childhood memory. Next day I receive a call that He's going to the hospital, drugs were involved but nobody knew anything more because he's an adult. We heard no news, couldn't contact him for Three Days. We had no idea what happened or how bad things were.

In the aftermath my baby sister and I had to drive into the city to pick his car up and bring it to my parents. She's a freshman in college and was too young to really remember my brothers first time in (I was twenty and she was twelve) and so I had to be the older sibling and tell her to rely on me. To brace herself that this probably would not be the end of the storyline with his mental health issues and she had to make peace with it and to protect herself how she could while still being there for him. I had to put my shit aside for my her and my mom and my dad. Had to be Gale.

At the same time I was fresh off a devastating breakup. I reached out that night to the ex because I thought we were still friends and got brushed off. While driving to get that damn car all i wanted was what my brain thought was my ride or die support system to be there helping me through this. All i wanted was a Curt and I didn't have one. So i gave Gale what i needed via Curt. Someone to pick up the pieces.

My grandmother passed away due to complications from colon cancer in 2020. She came down with an infection that ate away her intestines to nothing in the span of a weekend. I sat on the phone with her six states away as she lay dying on her bathroom floor. My Grandma who was my best friend my namesake wordlessly crying in my ear from pain. And I just remember thinking nobody fucking gave me the instruction manual for this. I went to bed once the ambulance came, thinking she would be okay. And by the time I woke up she was gone. And I've worked my feelings of that out through a previous fic but I definitely reached back into that experience to remember that headspace

I've been on both ends. I almost ended my life several times last year and I'm really fuckin glad I didn't cause I am having so much fun with you guys

#suicide tw #death tw #not related to the suicide tag #swiftytalks #that is to say thank you anon it means the fucking WORLD my stuff resonates

[spider-bren]

Dangerous Desires Part 2 | Clement Mansell x Female Reader

@ilovewhiteroses asked for this. Here you go, sweetness. Thank you to @penguiqueen-blog for beta'ing my work and who typed all this up for me because I hand wrote most of it!!

This is a continuation of ‘Dangerous Desires’.

Summary of Dangerous Desires Part 1: Reader works at the casino where Sandy works. Clement sees reader at the bar and they end up sleeping together in an elevator. He also stays the night at her apartment.

Pairing: Clement Mansell x Fem!Reader Tags: Sexual Content, PIV sex, Kitchen sex, Dirty Talk, Masturbation Summary: Reader and Clement sleep together in Clement's apartment. Clement finds himself distracted by thoughts of you...

"Hey Sweety, you have a 50 on you?" Clement asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose. He leaned on the open window of Sweety's car and grabbed the note from him.

He slipped it in his back pocket and entered the flower shop. It wasn't much of a flower guy, but he knew he had to make some of gesture, a taunt for the Mashal. Because he had him now. Him and Sweety's plan was setting sail this afternoon when they collected money from Burt. The whole town would fall prey to their scheme and Clement's pockets would be filled with cash. He picked out a few flowers here and there. It didn't have to mean anything. An ex once told him that flowers meant something. There was this whole other language told through flowers, with their colours and scents and origins. Clement was sure to bipass any roses in case dear Raylan got the wrong idea of the message he was trying to send.

He rounded the corner and spotted a familar face. Clement recognised the woman from the bar. The one who had had thoughly fucked against in the elavator. He remembered seeing you for the first time and not being able to stop himself from taking you right then and there. He couldn't even wait two more floors. Once inside your apartment he never let his hands off of you. Clement felt his cock stirring at the memory of being inside you. He walked over to you, dazzling smile on his face.

"Hey there, darlin'. what brings you here?"

"Oh. Hi, Clement. I'm just buying flowers for this woman who works with me. Her grandma passed so I thought I'd buy her something to make her smile."

"That's so thoughtful of you." He leaned in, body so close to touching yours. "Hey, you remember our time together, don't ya? How I stayed between your legs for hours. You were so good, baby."

"I do remember you. How could I not?" you told him. "I thought you were good as well."

"Hm." He cocked his head to the side, eyes glinting up with mischief and mirth. "So good you wanna do it again? You could swing by my apartment tonight? I have a meeting this afternoon, but nothing in the evening. Or the morning. I could be all yours."

You pressed your lips together, thinking of a night filled with passion and Clement's hands on you. You closed your eyes and tried to picture yourself in his apartment. Was this a good idea? No, it was a terrible idea. You hardly knew this man. You only knew his name and how his breath felt against your neck. But something pulled you to him, something in you craved to be in his presence as dangerous and thrilling as it was.

"Okay," you replied.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

You exchanged numbers and he said he would text you the address. You didn't see him the rest of the day.

***

A text popped up on your phone with the address. Entering Clement's apartment you could tell he wanted nothing more than to forgo the ridiculous introductions and greetings. He quickly dragged you by the hand through the living room and into the kitchen, showing you the space he lived in. He leaned against the counter, drawing you into his arms, hands on your waist.

"Nice place," you commented, not knowing what else to say.

He hummed and started kissing your neck. His lips pressed on your pulse point, your breath quickening as he licked the line of collarbone. It was all so familiar. The heat. The scent of him. The weight of his hands on your body trailing upwards to pull your shirt off.

"Missed you, doll," he drawled before he yanked off your shirt. Your skin was feverish as he glided his large palms across your stomach.

He chuckled deeply as he swept his hands towards your back. His lips met yours--mouth savouring each lip, first the top, then the bottom, dragging it into his mouth to suck and nibble. He kissed you as if he had been starved. His wet tongue pushed into your mouth and curled into every crevice making your knees buckle and your body sway towards him. He was tall, way taller than you. Your bare body reached the buckle of his belt. There's still so much of him. So much to touch and trace. You wanted your hands on all of him.

He leaned down, deepening the kiss, harder and more forced, ragged breaths every time your lips parted. You could feel it. Feel how affected he was just kissing you. His jeans were so tight the bulge was prominant. Your mouth watered at the sight, remembering the feel and weight of it in your mouth. You heard him sigh as your fingers played with his hair and caressed his scalp. He seemed to love your nails scratching the nape of his neck. There was a spot that got him shivering and pushing a moan into your mouth. With a quick flip of his fingers he unclasped your bra. He pulled it down your arms until it landed on the floor. He pulled away from your lips to mouth your neck again, his hands coming to cup your breasts in his hands, skillful fingers tweaking your nipples.

"I remember that sound you make when you're close," he murmered, mouth drawing to close around your left nipple. He hummed, the sound sending vibrations through you. You bucked into his touch.

"I wonder how easily I can make you cum. If I could get you off with just playing with you like this."

He teased you by grazing his teeth over your erect nipple, beard scraping over your soft, hot flesh. You moaned, dragging his head closer.

"I want to hear you, that gasp you make when you're on the edge… fuck, it gets me so hard."

You were already so turned on. Underwear dripping, soaking through the fabric. He couldn't. Could he? Not like this. No one had ever got you to finish so quickly. It was impossible. Clement was certainly trying. Hands working. Tongue lapping. Your body shook with all the pleasure. He grunted. Your moans made him frustrated. Impatient.

"I know I said I wanna make you cum but Daddy wants to be inside you so badly. I missed the way you feel on my cock. You were so perfect babygirl."

Without protest from you, he picked your small body with ease onto the counter behind him. He towered over you, your legs coming to bracket around him. You locked your legs around his middle. He tutted and peeled it away from his body, your legs dangling in the air, his hands firmly grasping your hips.

"I have to undress you first. Want you to show me your perfect little pussy. Bet she tastes just as amazing as last time."

He made quick work of pulling your pants and underwear off. Before long you were exposed to him, slick dripping onto the counter.

"Look at you," he purred. He gathered up your slick as he glided his hands through your folds. He inserted two of his large fingers inside you and hushed you as you made a noise from the stretch.

"Shush, darlin' I know you can take it. Gotta make sure you can handle my cock. It's been a while. Gonna get you nice and loose first." His mouth descended on your throbbing clit. You cried out as his fingers thrust and set a pace inside you.

You were trembling from the praise, from the other hand gripping your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders. It rushed through you unexpectedly, a deep chuckle vibrating against you as that sound you made flew out your mouth.

"There's my girl," he sai, coaxing you through your high.

You couldn't focus on anything but the pleasure. Your body lax and drained. He drew your body closer, cock already pressing against your sopping entrance.

"I got ya. Look at me, baby. Look at me."

You forced your eyes open to stare into his blue ones. He forced himself inside in one fluid motion. Your hands gripped his shoulders, his hips already drawing out to fuck back into you. He shuddered and moaned as talked you through it, telling you how good were, how you felt clenching around him, how he couldn't wait to see his cum run out of your hole. You had never experienced sex like this before and you never could again. Only Clement Mansell could make you feel like this.

He fucked you on every couch in the living room, every position on his bed, against the door of his closet, in the shower and on the floor even. Your nails had scratched his back open. You discovered he made a sound too when you clawed at the bottom of his back, your hands gripping his perfect ass as you felt him fuck into you. His hair was mused from your fingers. His neck littered with bruises, the same welts and marks from his mouth on your body. There were bruises on your hips and bites on your thighs. He had you from behind, your hair twisted in his hand. He had you in every way imaginable. You could still hear the sound he made when you were so filled with him, loads of cum leaking out of you. He loved to watch his cock go in and out of you. Every moment you were with him you felt you couldn't bear the thought of leaving him.

"I have to go to work this morning, Clem," you said, pulling yourself reluctantly out of his arms.

"But baby, I have a whole day planned for us." He pouted and tried to drag you back into bed.

"Like what?"

"Like you could do that thing with your tongue that I like so much." He grinned that smile that made your heart clench.

You sighed and kissed him quickly on the lips. "Later," you replied. "I'll see you again?"

"Tonight. After work."

"Deal," you said and went in search of your clothes.

You remembered how he snuggled into you, his head resting on your chest, your fingers carding through his hair. His breaths were even, peaceful as he slept. You found your discarded clothes in the kitchen. You dressed yourself, fixing your hair into something presentable before letting yourself out. Your body was tired, but your mind was wide awake. The rest of the day all you thought about was him.

***

Clement rolled over to your side of the bed. The pillow smelt of you. Your scent. Your sweat. Your cunt. He had made you taste yourself, made you swallow him down under your belly was full. He moaned thinking of your body, how it felt being buried inside you.

"Fuck, doll, I miss you." His cock was hard again and he stroked himself thinking of you. He fisted his hand over himself, already leaking, his moans echoing in the silence of the room.

"Ah," he moaned, voice kicking higher. "I need ya. Need to be with you again. You drive me crazy. Fuck!"

He messed all over himself picturing your face as he came. He cursed again. He mumbled into the pillow, still rutting against the sheets. It wasn't enough. If he fucked you into the next two weeks it wasn't enough. A month? No, he still wouldn't be satisfied.

How was he going to ask you stay?

#clement mansell x fem reader #clement mansell #justified: city primeval #answering asks #my fic writing

[house-of-lovin]

am I crazy or is everybody very focused on R’s exes? Very interesting asks at first but now I don’t really see very much questions here that aren’t about that ? Come on bros what about the other kinds of relationships in R’s life ! I’m so curious

(Just my assumptions, I say think a lot sorryyyy)

At what age did R meet Link? I know he’s her best friend and he’s known her since before R had her legal separation from parents at 18!

Also does Link ever feel like he’s more of her caretaker than her best friend ? I know he cares about her but I was just wondering if part of the reason he doesn’t leave even after she’s so difficult is because he feels like he owes R so it’s not necessarily always out of love. (I remember you mentioning R employing him and he brought up how all the money is sent to provide for his grandma)

I know R is close to J’s family now but who is she closest to and why? I can imagine J’s family being the kind of people to wanna care for R as if she was one of their own.

I’d personally assume it’s J’s parents! It sounds as if R’s never experienced a genuine paternal nurturing presence before (I know there’s been mentions about Link being that but I see his presence as brotherly) and J’s family is so family oriented, because of the lack of knowledge they have about R’s family that’s something they’d recognize immediately; R doesn’t talk about her family much.

I would guess they naturally slipped into that role for R, R and J’s parents love language seems to me as if it’s acts of service and quality time for not only giving but receiving. I can imagine there’s things they do for R that catch her off guard

(Ex.

R not mentioning she’s hungry because she doesn’t wanna be a bother but her stomach grumbles. Nat asks R about the last time she ate, R’s response makes Nat concerned so she not only tells R that she needs to eat more but makes her some food. Nat tells R that she has to sit at the table and wait for the food but it’s just so she can talk to R, in passing Nat mentions what she’s making is something her own mom made for her family and that she loves making for her family.

Ed asking R if she wants to go for a drive sometime after she fixes the car. For awhile they’re just aimlessly driving around and getting to know eachother a little better, Ed tells R about the memories each spot they pass by has.)

I think they’d be able to sense these aren’t common occurrences for R and her own family because of how caught off guard she is and how R beams with appreciation of it afterwards, they get to see the little soft kid in R whenever that happens and I think it’d make them a little sad that so little seems like so much to R.

I think because they’re parents they’d see the three consistent people in R’s life Link, Jake and Liz as people who are only there because they work for R (even if it’s not true). To them R really has no one in her corner and she’s been facing everything and everyone with no consistent genuine support from anyone, I’d think this is why they’d be more worried than angry/disappointed about the headlines she’s been making lately. Because to them even if it’s true it’s always been R against the world and thats too much for someone to handle on their own, of course she’d break eventually- she’s never been given a proper chance to breathe.

hope you’re having a lovely day :D

love answering questions like these!

I imagine Link and R grew up in the same neighbourhood, so they'd have met in elementary/primary school.

Interesting take about Link feeling like R's caretaker. I don't really see that tbh (although yes, R is very difficult) this is a friendship that's lasted probably 20+ years (or close to).

Idk if you guys have ever had adult friendships that started when you were very young and lasted into adulthood but those friendships are HARD TO BREAK. It doesn't matter how much you fuck up, that person will always be there for you. (it's a very special kind of bond)

My bsf and I have been friends for like 13+ years and best believe we don't always agree with each other's actions/decisions but that person is... your person. (in chapter 7, Link refers to himself as R's person.) No matter how much they fuck up, you'll always be there for them. I think I lowkey based R and Link on me and my bsf LOL.

I agree with your analysis of R's relationship with J's family and her parents.

I would imagine when R and J are finally dating, she'd be SO close to J's parents. THEY FOR SURE WOULD TAKE R IN AND MAKE HER PART OF THE FAMILY 🥹

J's dad taking R for a drive🥹 (yes for me)

J's mom feeding R cause R probably can't cook, too busy yk (ANOTHER YES FOR ME)

I like how you said they'd be more worried than angry about the headlines... I can def see that👀

(we're gonna see more interactions with R and J's family dw. I dont want give anything away but 👀)

THANKS FOR SENDING THESE ANON! So fun to answer and I love how deeply you thought abt your questions (v refreshing to answer something different lol)

hope you're having a lovely day babes♥️

#ask #legally binded

[baronessblixen]

23. Mistletoe kiss! (I think you know who)

Thank you for the prompt! This turned into a sequel to Christmas With The Scullys, but I think it can also be read on its own. It's very fluff.

Wc: 2,231 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Mistletoe Musings

Gooey darkness greets him as he slowly comes to, trying to blink away the sleep from his eyes. He wakes up languidly, stretching his legs, amazed at how soft this bed is. How quiet everything is here. How wonderful it smells.

Wait.

Mulder opens his eyes fully, looking around. His head is throbbing in tandem with his heartbeat. Where the fuck is he and why is he not alone in his bed? First things first. This, he realizes seeing a picture of a very young Scully and her siblings – Bill may have grown, but he hasn’t changed – on the nightstand, is not his bed, or his home. The memories return to him in scraps. Hospital. Concussion. Scully’s car. Scully’s mother’s house.

The bed he’s sleeping in is Scully’s. The person he’s sharing the bed with is… Scully. His eyes are still getting used to the dark, but now that he knows, he can see her. The lump under the comforter is without a doubt his partner. This isn’t the first time they’re sharing a bed, but it’s the first time they’re sharing her bed.

He doesn’t remember why they put him up here in Scully’s room. Does her mother think they’re dating? Scully, still asleep, chooses that moment to scoot closer to him, sighing deeply. Her scent is intoxicating. So is her proximity. If his mind keeps going down this path, his head will soon no longer be the only thing throbbing.

What he has to do is get a grip. This is Scully. She brought him here because he got himself hurt – again – and he couldn’t be left alone. Like a child. He’s crashing her Christmas because he acted before thinking.

He should thank Scully and all his lucky stars that he’s here and alive, not dead in some ditch, or all alone in a hospital. His eyes find Scully and his mind stops racing. A smile breaks on his face, just watching her sleep. He shifts the tiniest bit closer to her, hoping she won’t wake. When she doesn’t stir, he wills himself to relax. His eyes watching her, he’s being pulled back to sleep, too.

“Why can’t we wake them?” Someone not too quietly whispers. “I want to see what Santa brought!”

“Shhh. Let them sleep a moment longer.” Another voice chimes in, more familiar and more mature. It must be Mrs. Scully.

“Huh?” Scully, who at some point during the night decided to use his chest as a pillow, wakes up and as soon as she realizes how close they are, she gasps. But she doesn’t move away. She glances at him, her mind playing catch up, and then she smiles.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Grandma, they’re awake!” Two Scully children exclaim and both Mulder and Scully turn towards the door where Mrs. Scully stands with the biggest grin on her face.

“You better hurry,” she says, chuckling. “These kids are in a hurry.”

“Aunt Dana and the fox are awake!” One of the children screams, running down the stairs.

“What time is it?” Mulder asks once they’re alone again.

“Early,” Scully replies with a yawn. “Too early. How’s your head?”

“Scully, why is your very Catholic mother not at all fazed that I’m in your bed?”

“I take it your head is better.” Her words don’t stop her from touching the bump on his head and he winces. “There’s not enough space with half my family here. Is your head not better? Do we need to go back to the hospital?” Her hand is still on his head, but now she’s cradling it.

“No. No, we don’t. You’re important to me,” he says, remembering saying the same thing to her last night. He wants to say it again. Needs to say it again. There are no painkillers in his blood. Even the adrenaline is gone. If she didn’t believe him last night, she cannot deny it this morning.

“You told me last night. Do you- do you remember what happened yesterday?”

“I know I said it last night,” he assures her. “I do remember what happened. Well, mostly. I know where we are, and I know who I am, and I know who you are. What else do I need? I just wanted to say it again so that you know I meant it.”

“Thank you, Mulder,” she says, blushing faintly. “I meant it, too.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He grins at her, his head moving towards hers. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that they were supposed to get up and go downstairs where a plethora of Scullys wait for them. But what he really wants is to drink in Scully’s sleep-tousled hair, her make-up-free morning face full of freckles, and her inviting lips.

“Mulder,” she says, his name sounding like a murmur. Her eyes flicker to his lips, letting him know that she wants this, too. But before their mouths meet, his brain fires another word at him.

“Mistletoe,” he says, right before their lips meet. “We talked about mistletoe last night, didn’t we?” Scully chuckles, her eyes closing briefly.

“We did.”

“I still don’t know if there is any downstairs.”

“I think it’s time you find out.”

*

They draw all eyes to them when they enter Mrs. Scully’s living room. For a moment Mulder isn’t sure whether he’s seeing double. He’s never seen so many people for Christmas. They’re everywhere.

“Finally,” a kid says with a groan, crawling towards the tree and the presents there. Scully takes his hand, leading him toward the couch where her mother is sitting. Mulder feels several pairs of eyes bore into him. Most prominently Bill Jr.’s. He swallows hard, smiling at everyone else.

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Scully says. “There really is not enough space here.” She motions to the couch and Mulder realizes she’s right. There’s just enough space for one more person. They can’t very well ask the old lady with her cup of tea to sit on the floor.

“I can, um, stand over there,��� Mulder says, pointing. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Scully says. “Dana can sit on your lap. Come on now,” she urges. “You’re going to miss all the fun.”

Mulder and Scully exchange a quick look. If they don’t sit down soon, they will make it worse. Though Mulder isn’t sure things can be worse now.

“Sit down,” Scully says, her voice soft. She touches his arm, letting him know it’s okay. This is at once a dream and a nightmare come true. But he sits down, the couch sinking under his weight. Mrs. Scully nods at him, smiling before she redirects her focus back to the children. The only person still watching them is Bill Jr.

Mulder’s head is throbbing but he ignores it, waiting for Scully to sit on his lap. His Scully on his lap. She’s light as a feather, feeling just right sitting here. His arms go around her waist of their own volition. She leans against him, throwing him a quick smile. As he watches everyone tear through their presents, wrapping paper flying everywhere, he wonders if this is happening or a side effect of his concussion. Last night, he shared a bed with Scully. This morning, she’s sitting in his lap.

“This one’s for you, Dana.” Someone hands Scully a present and he rests his head on her shoulder to watch her unwrap it.

“What a beautiful scarf,” she says. “Thank you, Aunt Sylvia.”

“It’s from Santa,” one of the children reminds her.

“You’re right,” Scully says, laughing. “Thank you, Santa.” She turns around to look at Mulder, still smiling. He’s never seen her like this, like Dana. Being around her family grounds her, mellows her. She’s the most beautiful he’s ever seen her.

“Happiness looks good on you,” he whispers.

“It looks good on you, too,” she says, wrapping the scarf around him. It already smells like her and he doesn’t ever want to take it off. She’s right: he’s happy. It’s been more years than he can count since he’s felt this peaceful on Christmas.

“I know you had no choice,” Mulder says, his voice breaking. “But thank you for bringing me here.”

“I wanted you here, Mulder. I could have left you in the hospital.”

“I need to find that mistletoe,” he says. As much as he wants to kiss her – and do it right now – it might just be the last straw for Bill Jr.

“Look around,” Scully whispers, making him shiver all over. He does. His eyes scan the whole room and then, finally, he sees it. Mistletoe right by the window. He knew he could count on Mrs. Scully. Now all he has to do is be patient. He’s grinning like a Cheshire cat, much to the delight of the other grown up guests. He hopes they don’t know what he’s thinking about. But even if they do, he can’t care. Not tonight. Today he will receive the greatest Christmas gift he can imagine. He will get to kiss Scully.

*

In the end, it’s probably no more than an hour. To Mulder, it feels endless. The last present is unwrapped, the children are happy and playing with their toys, and the adults are refilling their coffees to stay awake and alert. Mulder doesn’t need caffeine. He’s thirsty for something else. But Tara has grabbed Scully by the arm and now the two women are in the kitchen while Mulder hangs around the mistletoe by himself.

“So you are Dana’s partner.” A woman approaches him, holding a plate with cookies. She offers one to Mulder and he politely takes one. “I’m her aunt. I’ve been very curious about you.”

“Hmm?” Is all he can say with his mouth full of cookie.

“Maggie told me all about you and Dana. She was hoping you’d be here. I love Dana, but these last few years,” she trails off, sighing. “It was obvious that there was always something missing. Someone missing. It was you. It’s good to see my favorite niece smile again. Don’t tell Bill Jr. I called Dana my favorite.” She winks at him and Mulder smiles, trying to process what he just heard.

He doesn’t get much time, because Scully returns to the living room, walking towards him. He forgets everything else. There is no one else in this room but them. His head doesn’t hurt. The only reason his knees are weak is that Scully is smiling at him. She has a cup of coffee in her hand that she puts on the mantelpiece.

“Hi,” he says, his voice breathless.

“Hi.”

“I found mistletoe.”

“I see.”

“You know the tradition,” he says.

“I do. You should be glad Aunt Sylvia didn’t look up just now,” Scully says. “I think she might have a thing for you.”

“Hmm, too bad. I’m already interested in someone else.”

“Who?” Scully asks, but he steals the word from her lips. They meet in the middle with her on tiptoes and him slightly stooped. It starts out soft and gentle, a perfect first kiss. But when Scully’s fingers lock in his hair, all bets are off. He forgets that he shouldn’t be upright for longer periods of time. His knees buckle, but kissing Scully takes precedence over everything else.

“There are children present, for God’s sake.” It’s Bill’s booming voice that brings them back to the present, to Mrs. Scully’s house, and the various family members glaring at them.

“I’m, um, we- well.” Mulder tries to find words, but can’t. He wipes his mouth and Bill’s eyes narrow.

“The kids are not even paying attention,” Scully says. Everyone over the age of 12 is, however. Mulder has never seen so many women smile at him. He stands closer to Scully, knowing she’ll protect him.

“I said I’d try to be nice to him,” Bill says, looking him up and down. “But Dana, this is going too far.”

“It was one kiss, Bill.”

“Hey, don’t fight, please,” Mulder says, his headache returning with a vengeance. “I think I need to sit down anyway. I’m a bit dizzy.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” She throws Bill a dirty look and for a brief moment, the siblings battle a silent fight that Scully seems to be winning. She leads Mulder over to the couch where every Scully woman starts fawning over him. His very own Scully has her hand on his head, straightening the hair she mussed up. He grins, thinking about what happened mere moments ago. He wants it to happen again soon.

“He’s wearing lipstick,” Aunt Sylvia says, taking a sip from her coffee. “Looks good on him.” Somewhere Bill Jr. groans while everyone else laughs. Scully wipes the lipstick away with her thumb, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She’s not at all shy with him here, surrounded by her family. Even if she only does it to rile up her big brother, he doesn’t care. After all, he gets kisses. From Scully. He will never complain about that. Though he can’t wait to do this when they’re alone and Bill Jr. isn’t breathing down their necks. Quite literally.

“It really does look good on you,” she whispers, bringing him back to the present.

“Maybe I can wear it again later?” He asks, full of hope.

“Oh, you will be wearing it again later tonight, don’t worry,” she promises him.

#got long #i feel like i could have turned this into a novella #wish i were kidding #christmas fluff really is my jam #thank you all for being so sweet to me about it #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

[brookewritesyk]

T h r e e

Warnings - none just make ups and kissing

───── 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐫 𝐒𝗺𝗼𝗼𝐭𝐡 ─────

𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐖, Jackie saw Jonny, Adam and Grandma Nellie on the driveway. Excited, Jackie called, "They're here. They're here!". Quickly, she hurried to the front door and cheerfully greeted, "Hi all!".

"Hold on Grandma. Hold on." Adam told his Grandma leaning over her.

"What's going on?" Jackie asked tilting her head walking over to the car.

"Hi Mum, Grandma's stuck," Adam explained looking away from Nellie.

"What?" Jackie asked again with a high-pitched voice.

"Her hair stuck," Adam repeated louder. "Just undo it!" Adam told Jonny and Jonny struggled: "I'm trying to but the door won't open."

"Mum?" Jackie asked worriedly.

"Hello, Jackie," Grandma greeted unfazed almost laughing.

"Undo the window!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Jonny frustratedly asked getting annoyed.

"Hurry up!" Jackie yelled.

"Maybe if I-" Jonny thought out loud but was silenced by the car alarm went off.

"Great!" Adam said sarcastically throwing his hands in the air.

"Jonny!" Jackie whined.

"Is that the police?" Nellie asked confused.

Adam went around the back of the car and opened the driver's seat door going to turn off the car alarm whilst Jackie yelled at Jonny "Jonathan, open the window and turn that alarm off now!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!"

Suddenly, the car alarm stopped and Grandma's hair was realised, a section of her hair sticking up.

"Oh, are you ok mum?" Jackie asked concerned putting her arm around her shoulders.

"Sorry, Grandma sorry." Jonny apologised, feeling guilty.

"You're such a dickhead." Adam told Jonny slamming the car door.

"Shut up."

"How's my hair?" Nellie asked Jackie.

"It's fine mum, its fine, come on." Jackie reassured leading her to the front door and asked whispering facing Jonny "How did you manage to get hair stuck in the window like that?"

"Cause he's a dick head that's how," Adam answered for Jonny.

"She must have lent in when I pressed the button or something." Jonny guessed.

"You know something?"

"What?" Jonny questioned confused.

"You are a dickhead." Jackie insulted eyeing him down and Jonny just looked at his brother in shock but Adam was just smiling.

Then they got into the hall Nellie immediately looked at her hair in the mirror, fiddling around with it.

"Ohh, your hair looks lovely, it's a lovely colour, isn't a lovely colour boys?" Jackie complimented her mother whilst asking the boys a question which they responded unenthusiastically, "Yeah."

"Thank you," Grandma appreciated "You should get your done too," Nellie suggested squinting her eyes at Jackie's hair.

Smile dropping, Jackie looked into the mirror and calmly informed: "I just had mine done."

"Have you?"

"Yes, mum," Jackie answered becoming offended.

"Did you do it over the bath?" Grandma smirked but being serious

"Brilliant," Jonny commented walking behind his mum to get into the kitchen.

Both of them carried on bickering until Jackie said excitedly to the boys "We've got something to show you."

"Really, what?" Adam asked.

"You'll see.." Jackie replied mysteriously

"Grandma's going to do a strip for us?"

"With dad?" Adam answered as Martin came out of the bathroom without a top like always.

"So no Charlie?" Martin asked closing the bathroom door.

"Uh, Dad remember we kind of got into an argument last week?"Jonny remained his dad sadly.

"Wait, you still haven't talked to her?" Jackie asked shocked.

"It's just it was a mistake but it also wasn't it, so it's a bit awkward," Jonny explained.

"Welll, I invited her over again," Jackie revealed.

"What?"

"What!"

"I assumed you talked to her so I asked her if she was coming and she said yes," Jackie explained.

"Oh, bad luck Pissface!" Adam told Jonny, aggressively ruffling his hair.

"Boys stop it, she's coming ok so behave!" Jackie angrily ordered.

"What's happening?" Nellie asked confused walking into the kitchen.

"Jonny's girlfriend is coming for dinner." The older brother deliberately misinformed.

"Oh, Allison!" Nellie said happily in realisation.

"No Allison and Jonny aren't together anymore," Jackie told, "Charlie-Rose is coming over to dinner, Jonny's old friend from high school."

"Oh ok, dolly," Nelle said walking back into the living room.

"This is going to be fun," Adam commented smiling sarcastically.

"Jesus," Jonny whined throwing his head back in annoyance.

"Just man up you simpleton!" Martin yelled to Jonny.

"Martin!" Jackie complained rolling her eyes.

Then the door went.

"Oh, God." Jonny realised that it was not going to be good.

"This is going to be amazing," Adam commented happily walking to the front door with a massive smile. Quickly, he opened the door and greeted "Well hello Charlie-Rose!".

Charlie was wearing high-waisted open jeans with a light pink sweater and holding a bouquet of white roses. "Hey, Pissface," She greeted giving Adam the flowers.

"Aww thank you, but don't you want to give these to Jonny?" Adam teased mischievous smile.

"Haha, very funny they're meant to apology for last week." You explained smiling slightly sad.

"Don't worry my brother can be a cock face."

"Yes, yes he can be." You smiled coming in and putting your coat in the rack.

"Adam, who is this, your girlfriend?" Nellie asked walking into the hallway.

"No, she's Jonny's girlfriend," Adam smirked.

"Oh yes, Charlie-Rose," Grandma remembered

"No I'm not Jonny's girlfriend but I am Charlie-Rose."

───── 𝐀𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 ─────

"Well hello, Bambina!" Martin greeted smiling.

"Hi, Martin," Charlie replied with the same amount of happiness.

"Sorry, my son is such a burk." Martin apologised looking at Jonny.

"How subtle."

"Yes very," Jackie nodded rolling her eyes.

"So what did you want to show us?" Jonny asked changing the subject.

"Oh yes, come through," Jackie told, guiding us to the living room.

They all walked in into the room not noticing any immediate changes. Charlie noticed Jackie was getting annoyed so she asked for a hint and she waved her arm backwards.

"Is it the curtains?" Charlie guessed unsurely.

"Finally!" Jackie exclaimed. "Also Jonny maybe you and Charlie should have a talk." She suggested forcefully smiling.

"Not awkward," Adam murmured.

"Oh great." Charlie thought.

"Thanks for that mum," Jonny sarcastically thanked them getting up and walking to the kitchen then Charlie followed.

"I'm sor-" They both started then nervously laughed and Charlie let him continue.

"Look I-I lied about Allison, way before you because I just didn't want mum to set me up with anyone, you know what's she's like." Jonny truthfully explained, ashamed. "I-I didn't mean to kiss you but, I also don't regret it."

"Really?" Charlie asked beyond shocked, she never thought in her wildest dreams that he actually liked her back.

"Yes 100% I don't regret it but I would regret not asking you out." Jonny smoothly asked.

"Alright Mr Smooth but you only have 1 shot." Charlie teased. Charlie just couldn't stop smiling.

"I won't mess it up I promise." Jonny told smiling. "How about another kiss?".

"Wow your are very slick tonight." Charlie replied going onto her tip-toes and leant into him.

"Indeed I am." Jonny smirked back and leant into kissing her as well.

"Yay!" Jackie shouted from the kitchen door.

"Oh my God, Pissface actually maned up." Adam taunted leaning against the door frame next to his mum.

"Jesus can we have some privacy." Jonny whined now facing them.

Sighing, Jackie left them Adam genuinely smiling left the room too.

"So where we're we?" Charlie asked.

"I think I was going to ask you on a date." Jonny yet again smoothly replied.

"Mr smooth is on his 'a' game tonight." Charlie complimented.

"Why thank you Paris, so the date. Mario's, 7?" Jonny suggested.

#x oc #y/n #jonny goodman #friday night dinner #channel 4 #charlie rose

[longislandcharm]

TIMING: Three years ago PARTIES: Winter @longislandcharm & Mack @realmackross LOCATION: A bookstore in L.A. SUMMARY: Being a fan of Winter's show, Mack Ross comes to an appearance she was making to promote the second season. A good time is had and a tentative friendship is formed. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of death

Mackenzie could remember the exact day the remake of Spirit Speak aired on television. She had been a fan of the original show and would watch it with her grandmother. Unfortunately, her grandmother had long since passed and Mack would be delving into this show alone. But that was okay, because if it was one thing the show had taught her, it was to believe in the impossible. So of course, when Mackenzie heard Winter Cahya, the star of the show, was going to be doing a meet and greet right down the road from her house, she had to go.

“Yeah, the line’s almost died down. I don’t want to go in until there’s nobody there.” Her phone was pressed up to her ear as she lingered in a black Mini Cooper just outside watching through the window. She had felt like a complete creeper, but she knew if she had approached the woman with a full store it would have taken attention away from Winter, and that was the last thing Mackenzie had wanted.

When the last person walked out and the store owner was just about to flip off the open light, Mack shut off the engine, “Hey, she’s finished. Yeah, yeah. Love you too, Babe. Bye.” Hopping out of her car and thankfully masked by a hoodie, sunglasses, and the sun going down, she caught the man’s attention, “I know you guys are closing, but would it be okay if I just said hi to Winter before she goes?” Immediately seeing recognition of who she was on the store owner’s face, she thanked him gracefully as she slipped inside. Just like her fans often felt around her, Mackenzie could feel a bit of nervousness bubbling up in her gut. She had followed the Cahya family for so long, and despite them living in the same area for part of the year, the young actress had never gotten the opportunity to meet the medium, “Uh, hey. I know this is, like, totally last minute and unprofessional, but I just wanted to tell you I’m a huge fan of the show. And of the original. My grandma and I used to watch it together, and I know she’d be right here fangirling with me, if she were still alive.” The sunglasses and hoodie remained on, Mackenzie forgetting to take them off from having butterflies in her stomach.

That sacred time that Winter got after a meet greet was already starting to work its magic. After spending hours throwing fake smiles all over the place and pretending to listen to these people’s long winded stories, the girl loved nothing more than winding down with a nice social media scroll as the people around her started to pack up all of the equipment that was lugged around these national tours. Tik Tok was her favorite, the wireless earbuds in her ears currently blasting the music for these nerds dancing around and epicly failing while she giggled to herself softly. It wasn’t until she heard a loud crash sound behind her that she took one of the earbuds out and shot a glare at the crew. “Those things are expensive, you know. Might want to check on those butterfingers before you get a little dip in your paycheck.” 

She watched the guy nod and go back to his work, Winter noting how careful he was being now and feeling satisfied. The music was still blasting in her right ear making it hard to hear whoever had just walked up on her but she’d caught the tail end of the comment as she looked up at the girl standing in front of her. “The meet and greet ended thirty minutes ago. They weren’t supposed to let anyone else in.” Did she mean to be rude? Never to a fan, no they were her livelihood, but her wind down time was precious to her and she was just ready to get out of this dinky little store. But as she started to raise her hand to put her left ear bud back in, her eye finally took in the person standing there a little more and recognition started to spark. 

“Mackenzie Ross?” There was no way this was the Mackenzie Ross, right? Her eyebrows shot up as recognition of her own mistake started to set in. Shit, she was supposed to be nice to her peers, right? Standing so that she didn’t seem even more disrespectful, Winter pulled out the other earbud and put both of them back in their charging case, instantly plastering a smile on her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said there. These earbuds are noise canceling. Did you say you were a fan?” Imagine…the star of Dropped, a fan of a lowly reality star. Well, the reality star of reality stars but still. Praise from someone with her status was always nice to hear and she wouldn’t mind hearing it again. 

The reply wasn’t really what she had expected. In fact, it was kind of rude, but at the same time Mackenzie knew how it was doing press junkets and fan meet and greets. It was tiring, especially when you had to plaster your best smile on for hours at a time. She couldn’t fault the woman for dropping the exact same act, she had been way too familiar with herself, “Sorry about that. I just knew if I came in any sooner, it would’ve caused problems.” She was about to further elaborate, until Winter recognized her. “Yeah?” Suddenly realizing her hood and sunglasses were still on, she took them off, “Uh, I was just saying that me and my grandma used to watch the original Spirit Speak when I was little, and that she would’ve been right here beside me today, if she had still been…alive.” Her praise had lost its momentum slightly, but she was still excited to be talking to Winter.

Stuffing her sunglasses in her pocket, she nervously played with them as the conversation continued, “So how’s things been going with the show? I’ve seen previews for this season, and it looks like it’s gonna be pretty good.” Whether or not Mackenzie really believed that Winter could talk to spirits was still up for debate, but she had to admit, the girl did have an ‘it’ factor that made her fascinating to watch. “Especially the one where you communicate with the father of that musician.” She had hoped it was okay to at least have a small conversation knowing that everyone was trying to pack up and get out. Mackenzie wouldn’t hold the reality start back for long, but it was a rare chance she had gotten a little one-on-one time without someone pestering her for a photo or autograph.

“Problems?” She paused, eyebrows raised once more, until she realized what Mack had meant. Of course, Winter hadn’t really had that issue before. Sure she was recognized when she was out and about but she was sure the other girl couldn’t even pee without a swarm of people trying to talk to her. “Right, yea. I’m sure you’re not even allowed to walk down the street without a ton of people following you around. I get that on a…way smaller scale. But people can be pretty insane.” 

It was the mention of Mackenzie’s grandmother that had Winter pressing her lips together as she didn’t know what to say. Grandmother’s were precious, she had deeply loved her own maternal grandma and all the stories that were passed down from her, so she understood what a bonding moment meant and how much it could hurt if it was somehow ruined. Clearing her throat, she nodded at Mack before giving her a rare genuine smile. “It’s really nice to hear that the show could bring you and your grandmother closer. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet her. Are you…are you like, wanting a reading or something?” She frowned as that thought struck her. It would be just her luck that a major tv star would track her down to ask to speak to a dead relative. She would have to turn her down, of course. Couldn’t have millions of people tune in just for Mack’s episode only to see no evidence that her grandmother’s spirit was there. Or worse…Mack could publicly call her a fraud and she could not have that. Winter would be ruined. 

But seeing that the girl seemed to just want to talk had Winter relaxing. Her smile returned and she gestured for Mack to take a seat in one of the chairs that hadn’t been packed up yet. Once someone got her talking about the show it could take a while before she stopped. “Season two is definitely going to be a good one. The first season surprised us with the ratings for sure but this one…I wouldn’t be surprised if it beat out Dropped.” Winter playfully said the words, making sure to nudge Mack’s shoulder lightly so the blonde understood that she was kidding. “Oh, yea, that was a good one. His father was very open that day. I think he’d been trying to communicate for a while.” Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her own words, she took a seat next to the chair that she’d gestured to and leaned back, looking completely relaxed as she spewed her lies. This came so naturally now that it should have been a crime. “How’s your show going? Last season’s cliffhanger had me on the edge of my seat. You should tell the writers to give us a break now and then or they’re going to give some fans a heart attack.”

She watched the change in Winter’s face as she realized what Mackenzie had meant. Had she talked to the Spirit Speak star a few years back, it would have been a different story. But ever since the popularity of Dropped had risen, so had Mackenzie’s level of fame. It was like she had become an overnight success, even though she had been working in the business for years. But that’s usually how it went, and while it had been both exciting, it had taken quite a bit of adjusting and rearranging her life to accommodate the way it had affected everything, “Yeah, I mean it's not Taylor Swift level, but it’s pretty ridiculous. And kind of inconvenient, especially when I just want to hangout with my friends or go eat or something.” Fame wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be.

Mackenzie was glad to be talking about something else, even if that was her dead grandmother. She had loved the woman dearly, and she had been there every step of the way. If Mackenzie was having a really hard time with something, the woman had been there. Losing her had been one of the hardest days of her life. But little did she know, flash forward a couple of years and things would get a whole lot worse. “Yeah, and it’s okay. I like to think she’s here with us right now, probably fangirling her little heart out.” Mack laughed softly at the thought of her being with them and how she probably would have talked Winter’s head off. “Huh? Oh, no. That’s not really what I came here for. I just heard you were going to be here, and I wanted to see if I could drop by and meet you, before you left. I live right down the street with my boyfriend.” Mackenzie worked in the television and film industry. She was pretty good at spotting special fx and CGI. Plus, unlike her grandmother, she had always been a little skeptical about ghosts and if they were real or not. It was mostly seeing the closure and relief people had from the way Winter talked to them that Mackenzie had loved.

With the gesture from Winter, Mackenzie took a seat. She hadn’t expected their conversation to actually last long, but she was excited. She didn’t have anywhere she had to be for once in her busy life, so getting to experience this was going to be something to remember. Listening intently as the other woman spoke, a smile spread across her face followed by a soft chuckle with the joke about Spirit Speak beating out Dropped in the ratings. The nudge caught her off guard slightly, but she knew it was all in good fun. She continued to listen as Winter explained the situation with the musician and his father suspending her disbelief, “You know I think it was just the closure that he got from knowing that his father was okay. It was like he was able to move on after that. I think that’s what I love most about your show.” She nodded in agreement to what she was speaking, until Winter brought up Dropped. “We had our first table read the other day for the new season. I think you’re going to like the first episode. I can't give away any spoilers, but I can say you do get answers to some of the questions that left everybody so confused last season.” A sly grin came over her face. “But yeah, I’ll be sure to tell them that heart attack inducing cliffhangers aren’t what’s best for our ratings.” She laughed softly. “So are you in town much longer or heading out soon?”

“Nobody is on TayTay’s level, trust that.” Winter had seen the levels that Taylor Swift's fans would go and as much as she herself would have loved more status in the world of Hollywood she knew Taylor could not be matched. The girl was stalked relentlessly. The reality star briefly wondered how bad it was for Mack and if she even wanted anything close to that and then came to the conclusion that yes, she wanted something more than what she had. But that wasn’t important, not right now anyway. “Can you even go to a restaurant without worrying about it or do you have to like shut the place down or something? Not gonna lie, being the only table in a dining establishment doesn’t sound half bad to me. Filing that idea away for later.” She gave Mack a confident nod, not even sure if the other girl had done it or not. 

A soft laugh escaped Winter at the idea of Mackenzie’s grandmother floating around somewhere around them trying to get her attention. If only she really could talk to the dead, it would have been a nice little chat she was sure. Glad that Mack didn’t want an attempt at that conversation, Winter let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding onto. “I’m sure she would have been highly entertaining to speak with. But I’m not going to lie, a break now again is good for me. It’s a little overwhelming at times.” And that was nothing but truth. Even if she wasn’t in touch with the spirits of people’s loved ones, the lies she had to rattle off and the act she had to put on could really put her in a weird mental headspace. She needed breaks now and again. Something caught her attention though, her interest peaked. “You live down the street…with Brody, right? That’s his name?”

It was Mack speaking about how she connected with Winter’s show that had her smiling softly once more. The relief on people’s faces when they started to believe, the hope they held onto as they went through their conversation, and the complete and utter joy at hearing things were going to be okay was always a rollercoaster. She saw it in almost every client she helped and knowing she was the one bringing that closure to their lives did make the lies that much easier and she didn’t feel bad for it in the least. “Honestly? I think that’s why I fell in love with it when I was a kid. Watching my mom take people through that was a complete spiritual journey in itself.” But she also liked the fame that came with it. That was cool too. 

Her eyes narrowed in a joking glare, her smile still ever present as she took in the very little information Mack was alluding to. She really did enjoy Dropped and the show was hard to watch at times when they kept leaving you with more questions than answers. Could she get anything out of her new friend? “Ohhhh, bitch.” The tone matched her look, Winter not even worried she was going to offend Mack. It was just how she spoke to people she wasn’t hiding everything from. Maybe it was a connection she felt since they both seemed to know what the other was going through or maybe she was just too tired to raise all of her walls but either way she felt comfortable with Mack. “You are completely loving this torture, aren’t you? Is that really all you’re going to give me? Forget the writers, you’re the biggest tease of them all, aren’t you?”

Even though Mackenzie loved her life, she had never thought or imagined she’d have the level of fame that Dropped had already brought into her life. Sure, she had a following from her other shows and movies from over the years, but this was so much different. However, Taylor Swift level? She never wanted that life. Her life had already been dangerous enough, but the idea of being so famous that nearly everyone in the world recognized you was just a scary thought. At least with social media there was some separation, but it had also given way to people who thought they knew you, and that could be a lot worse, “Uh, no. I haven’t reached that level yet, but I did have a pretty bad stalker scare about a year or so ago.” It had been traumatic for the young woman, and something she didn’t like to talk about much. And upon hearing Winter’s answer, couldn’t see why she would want to be ridiculously famous. Shutting down a restaurant could be appealing. She could see that, but having a stranger waiting for you in your bedroom after working all day, was a nightmare she never wanted to experience ever again.

She was glad the conversation took a turn, “I can imagine. Helping people on such a personal level like that has to be tiring at times. It’s great work you’re doing, but even I know sometimes I just want to be left alone to not have to see or talk to anybody for at least a good day or two.” It was so true though. Mack often got socially drained, especially when it was time for press tours. And on her days off, when she hadn’t made promises to go hangout with friends around town, she would laze around in her pjs, watch TV, eat junk food, and snuggle with her dog, Bixby, and of course, Brody when he was home. She had loved those days. Cherished those days and it was exactly what the plan was going to be when she got home tonight - after picking up a pizza and some of her favorite froyo for her and her boyfriend to chow down on, “I’m guessing you follow me on instagram?” Her insta was filled with pictures of her life, including her boyfriend, “But yeah. His name’s Brody. We met when we were kids and a mutual friend put us back in touch with each other not too long ago and here we are!” Mackenzie’s face lit up talking about him, “What about you? Got a significant other in your life?” She wasn’t sure if that was too personal of a question, but she asked it anyway.

Mackenzie was a bit of a sap and had loved hearing why Winter had fallen in love with what she had known all of her life, “Your mom seems like a pretty awesome lady. And I can see why you would fall in love with the career you have. For me, when I hear stories from fans about how one of my characters helped them get through something, it always humbles me, you know? Like yeah, the fame is great and the perks and the money, but it’s the fans and just how significantly you can help in a career that you wouldn’t think could help as much as it does. Did that make sense? I feel like I’m rambling.” She laughed. 

But it was Winter’s reaction that had completely caught Mack off guard, “Did you just call me a bitch?” Her smile had dropped for a moment, before she leaned in closer to her, “If I’m a bitch, then you’re a diva…a devious diva at that, because you’re not getting any spoilers out of me.” She leaned back as a grin slowly crept across her face, “And yes, I actually do love torturing people, because what kind of person would I be if I gave away all the good stuff before it aired.” A fired person is what she’d be. She had been sworn to secrecy in the contract she had signed years prior, and she wasn’t about to bite the hand that feeds.

“Stalker? Ugh, who would be so desperate?” One might think that Winter was throwing a jab towards Mack but it was definitely the other way around. Why would anyone want to be such a creep? Being in the industry should not have to come with the danger of some rando trying to insert themselves in your life nor should it have to come with the dangers that came with it. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I’m sure it was scary.” And she was also sure Mack probably didn’t want to talk about it much. Winter didn’t want to talk about it either. It was too much and it would pop that perfect bubble she’d put Hollywood in.

So the subject was considered dropped. The medium smiled again, nodding her head lightly as Mack went on to compliment her some more. She wasn’t to shy away from a good compliment, Winter eating it up as she leaned forward, elbow going to her knee as she placed her chin on top of her closed fist. “It’s definitely draining.” Actually, she loved all of the attention she got from it, loved that the focus was on her the entire time she was “speaking” with whatever entity she was supposed to be speaking with. Winter only used the draining excuse when she didn’t know how to continue with her lies. 

Raising her eyebrows at the question, she felt her head tilt with curiosity. Instagram? Oh! Because she knew about the fiance. As the thought dawned on her she had to pick her own brain while she tried to remember if she followed Mack or not. “Honestly? I think I do but I’ll be real with you. I knew who Brody was before I knew who you were. I mean…he’s hot, as you know.” Telling another girl her boyfriend was hot probably should have instilled some sort of shame in her but Winter couldn’t care less. If Mack had a problem with it that just meant she was too insecure for her own good and that wasn’t Winter’s problem. Shrugging a shoulder, she sat back up in her chair with a nonchalance that showed she didn’t quite give shit what Mack thought of that answer and hoped it wouldn’t ruin a good time. “Or at least I hope you think he’s hot…”

She perked up when her mom was also praised. Ever since she was a little girl, Winter had idolized the woman and had one goal: Be just like her. It wasn’t always easy, especially when her mother set very high expectations, but she had never given up on the goal. Most people would say she’d met it already. “She is an awesome lady. Basically I want to be just like her in every aspect. Find someone who adores me the way my dad adores her, have a successful tv show, be able to travel anywhere I want,” She paused, feeling like she was forgetting something until it hit her,” Oh, and help people of course.” She really had to remember to say that to more people. “You lost me there but I think I picked it back up a little ways into the rambling. It’s okay though, it happens when we care about something.”

Oh god, here we go. She was on the cusp of rolling her eyes at the overreaction before she caught Mack leaning towards her in her peripheral vision, the medium wondering for a split second if the other girl was going to try and cause bodily harm. The words were not expected at all and prompted a little giggle. Winter was just glad she wasn’t too sensitive. “I see we like alliteration here. I’ll take Devious Diva, but you get Bougee Bitch because I just get that vibe from you. It does hurt though. We’ve already given each other nicknames and you can’t be bothered to give one little detail.” Scrunching her fingers together for emphasis, Winter was fully aware that details couldn’t be spared. She worked in the industry too and she knew contracts were a thing. It was just too fun to mess around with the girl.

Mackenzie was highly enjoying herself. She hadn’t expected Winter to really want to chat after giving an appearance, but she was glad the woman did. She was also glad when she respected Mack’s decision to not keep talking about her stalker situation, and instead spoke about other things. There were just some things in the young actress’s life she preferred not to dwell on. Besides, who needed that kind of negativity when she had the perfect life and the perfect boyfriend on top of all of it. She couldn’t complain, and she was grateful for what the universe had given her, “Honestly, I hear that a lot. Brody is hot, and it’s just a part of the business. It took a minute to get used to having other people talk about the man I love like that, but I trust Brody, and he trusts me.” A wide grin spread across her face as she thought about him. Mackenzie was falling hard for him. And even though they hadn’t been together that long, she had known the kind of man he was long before they had ever considered getting together.

“Burnout is a real thing and stepping back to take some time for yourself is understandable.” There had been times when she wanted to quit, but was grateful that she didn’t. Instead a quick trip to somewhere quiet and relaxing usually did the trick, a luxury Mackenzie knew not many people could afford, which made her appreciate it even more. She had wondered if burnout was one of the reason’s Winter’s mom had called it quits on the original Spirit Speak, but she was also talking to the woman’s daughter, so that could have also been the reason the show had been shelved until Winter had taken it over.

She enjoyed hearing about how much respect and admiration her new friend had for her mom and her career. Mackenzie had loved her mom dearly, but couldn’t relate to her in the sense of having the same job. Mack had been the first celebrity in their family, which sometimes made it awkward around her cousins and other family members, “I know she’s probably supes proud of you and your biggest fan.” Her smile was warm and genuine. She was glad Winter had that support in her life.

“Bougee Bitch. Well, I can’t really complain, because I am pretty bougee. Even my other friends think so.” She laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, Mackenzie pulled it out to see Brody had texted, “And that’s my cue to go. I promised Brody a pizza and froyo for dinner. Plus, I’m sure you’re ready to go home and rest, before you have to leave again, but before I leave,” She held out her phone, “mind if I get your number, DD. Next time you’re in town, maybe we can have lunch together. My treat.”

All Winter could do was nod as Mack spoke about her boyfriend. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy for them, it was more about the things that she wanted to continue saying about Brody. It would most likely offend her new friend too much in the long run and it wasn’t worth the hassle that would come with it. She had to play nice or her publicist was going to drop her and a new feud with Mack Ross would be the thing that made her cut the cord with her client. Besides, she was starting to kind of like Mack. So, she nodded some more all while inappropriate thoughts about Brody floated through her mind, threatening to spill out of her mouth.

Yea, she was starting to like Mack for sure. Compliments went a long way with Winter, especially compliments that made her feel like her mother wasn’t always pushing her to be better and might have actually enjoyed the work that Winter did. Even if she knew deep down that it wasn’t true. Her mother always thought she could do better, be better, and that had only amped up since the show had started. She was surprised the woman wasn’t there berating her about the meet and greet that night. 

“See? Spot on. I am very perceptive.” It was when Mack looked at her phone that Winter looked around the shop they were in to find the crew members and the store owner were waiting around for them. They hadn’t bothered her…good. Thought that might have more to do with the fact that Mack Ross was the one talking to her. She gave them all a light smile before turning back to the blonde and the phone she was holding out to Winter.

Well, that was a shock. But Winter didn’t hesitate to grab the girl’s phone and put her contact information in under the name DD. She liked the fact that Mack wasn’t scared of her bravado and seemed to roll with her slight punches. The question would be, could she handle the worst of Winter? She had a feeling she would. “This comes with one condition: I get to pick the place. I know some great places around here.” She handed the phone back, not moving to leave just yet while she waited for Mack to head out. “Go, make sure your boy doesn’t starve. It would be such a waste.” 

Mackenzie had really enjoyed the few minutes she got to spend getting to know Winter. She had figured the interaction would have been short. Maybe an autograph or photo, but not the two becoming friends. The girl was feisty and Mack liked that. A bit brash and probably told it like it was even when you didn’t want to hear it, but Mack knew it would keep her humble. Fame wasn’t something you could let go to your head, or it would destroy your career. She had seen it happen around her way too many times. It’s why Mackenzie didn’t like to bite the hand that kept her employed. She could clap back occasionally, but it was usually well warranted. However, with Winter’s brash and what seemed like give no fucks attitude, Mack was sure she could learn a thing or two.

Taking her phone back and standing up, she looked down and laughed when she saw DD in her contacts, “Fine. You can pick the place the first time, and it’ll be my treat. But next time I get to choose, and it’s on you. Deal?” Just because Mack had money, didn’t mean she was paying every time. She’d seen the empire that Winter’s mom had built over the years. And knew that the Spirit Speak plush doll she had growing up didn’t come without residuals for it being the woman’s likeness. “Yeah, I might want to get two pizzas now that I’m thinking about it.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Thanks, DD. We’ll talk again soon, yeah?” She put her hand on Winter’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze, before leaving the bookstore.

It had been a nice experience, and one she’d hold onto. Plus, she knew her grandmother would be beside herself knowing that Mackenzie got to talk to the daughter of one of her favorite people. With one last glance into the window, headlights shining in brightly, the young actress smiled as she drove off.

#Threads #Thread: Mack #First Encounters

[minhyeong]

&. 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐲

genre: fluff, angst, summer fling au | word count: 4,028

↳ When you said you were happy, what you truly meant was you were happy with Jeno here, but when the time for him to leave arrived with the autumn wind, it would all collapse again.

Jeno was merely a stranger that summer, when the July heat turned unbearably stifling like the depths of hell. On a humid afternoon, when the air got so hot and heavy that trying to breathe normally felt like an arduous task, you offered to help your grandma harvest the peaches in the field behind the house. After being under the endless blue sky for hours, your sticky skin felt like a magnet for everything in its way. Dirt, dust, and tiny leaves were littered all over your exposed limbs. The cicadas cried impossibly loud.

Your concerned grandma called for you to return to the house. You wiped the sweat that accumulated on your forehead with the back of your hand and hoisted the basket of ripe peaches up to your waist. As you waddled back to the comforting shade, your attention went to the bright yellow rover parked outside the vacation home next to where you lived. It tantalizingly glinted under the sunlight, metal reflecting the light onto the walls of your kitchen, the backseats stuffed with suitcases and a half inflated watermelon pool float.

Another group trying to escape the bustling city for the summer, you figured. Living in a country town that was used more for temporary vacation plans than permanent residence, you have gotten used to seeing strangers drag their belongings into the neighboring houses for a week or two, maybe a month tops. The town would only come to life with traveling carnivals and concerned parents trying to stop their roaming children at the seaside when the summer came around. 

You watched as he strode out of the house in red swimming trunks and a plain black shirt, dark blue hair still damp, dog tag necklaces dangling above his chest. He hauled a black aluminum suitcase half his size up the steps of the wooden porch and screeched for a certain Haechan to help him move the other suitcases in the car. 

When your grandma came behind you and picked a peach out of the basket in your hands, smoothing her frail palm along the warm fuzz, you snapped out of your light trance and commented on how there seemed to be more peaches on the trees this summer. The new stranger next door goes forgotten—a mere speck situated in your short term memory.

Jeno stank of the salty sea water when he rang the doorbell and introduced himself to you, all because neither him nor his huddle of friends remembered to check the weather forecast beforehand or bring an umbrella. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as you peered up. Indeed, the clouds looked ready to create havoc. 

You scoured the closet by the entrance, sifting through the pile of unused light bulbs and empty tin cookie containers your grandma kept just in case they would come into use in the future, and pulled out two black umbrellas that looked like they hadn’t seen the light for ages. 

“You can keep them.” After dropping the umbrellas in his palms, you flashed him a polite, fleeting smile, and proceeded to close the door. 

That flustered Jeno. He thrusted his arm forward, palm flat against the wooden frame. “We’re having a campfire tomorrow night if you would like to join,” he offered. “My friends and I will be staying here for a while, so I just thought we could become acquainted,” he continued when you blankly looked at him, choosing his words carefully as he tried to decipher your eerily flat expression. 

When the small moment of silence seemed to stretch unbearably long, Jeno was just about ready to disappear and never show up again out of embarrassment. He expelled a sigh of relief after you timidly nodded. 

You had no idea why you had accepted the invitation. After being so used to just the company of your grandma, you convinced yourself she was all you needed in a constantly shifting world where no one ever stayed long enough. And so the time slipped by. You barely noticed years had passed with your grandma holding one of your hands and solitude tightly holding the other. 

But when you sat around the blazing fire, sandwiched between Jeno and his group of friends, scent of burning wood evoking inexplicable nostalgia, graham cracker coated in chocolate sitting on your palm as Jeno handed you his perfectly toasted marshmallow with a smile, you wanted to make an exception for the first time.

You couldn’t stop the amusement from spilling out of your lips when everyone ganged up on Haechan and accused him as the mafia in one of the most chaotic rounds of the mafia game you’ve ever witnessed. Jaemin was fully supportive of Jeno’s threat to toss Haechan into the fire, and you couldn’t help but stare at the way Jeno’s eyes turned hazel under the flickering flames. The music from the mini speaker glitched every other minute until Renjun lost his composure and verbally threatened the device. 

All the unfamiliar laughter settled tenderly on your shoulders. Your red sneakers sunk into the wet earth beneath. The chocolate melted on the tip of your tongue, palms sticky from all the sugar. 

You watched life and wanted to be part of it for once.

The next time you encountered Jeno by the frozen foods section at the local supermarket, he resembled something like an old friend. He was hauling a basket of soda and watermelon, body slanted from the extra weight. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he quipped, switching the basket to his other hand as he approached you in big strides.

His boyish grin had you feeling as if you’ve known him for decades.

You returned his smile and gestured at the food. “Having another party?”

“I lost at rock, paper, scissors, and my punishment was to do the shopping for Mark’s sudden craving for watermelon punch. I swear it’s a conspiracy how they always collectively put out rock whenever I put scissors!” 

His sulky expression was endearing, you thought. 

“I’m contemplating just eating all of this alone and not sharing any with them,” he continued, the corners of his lips lifted in a mischievous grin. “You and I can have all of this, and they can starve.” 

Your mouth moved before your mind could react, and you put forth an invitation for him to enter your home. “Sorry, it might be a little messy. I didn’t clean up before I left this morning since I didn’t know you would be coming over,” you rambled as you slipped your shoes off by the doorway.

He chuckled and waved it off with a flick of his wrist. “I’ve been living with a bunch of dirty men for so long that I’ve touched the void and no mess can bother me now.” 

Your grandma straightened up in the recliner by the television and steadily made her way toward the sounds of your chatter. Her entire face seemed to radiate light at the sight of you with someone else. She couldn’t remember the last time you introduced a friend to her. 

Jeno was barely done greeting her when she eagerly ushered him to have a seat by the kitchen. His sentence faltered into a sound of confusion as he glanced over his shoulder at you, and you shrugged, equally confused by how your grandma took an instant liking to him. 

She eagerly placed a cup of lemonade down onto the countertop and slid the plate of peaches sitting at the center toward Jeno, face wrinkling up with a broad smile. Her eyes flitted from him to you, sending you a questioning look that pushed for answers. 

“Jeno’s staying next door,” you spluttered, uneasily settling into the seat next to his. “Temporarily. For the summer.” You cleared your throat and reached for the peach sitting on top of the pile, clutching it so tightly that your fingers left dents in the skin. 

“The campfire?” 

Jeno perked up, grinning, hastily swallowing the lemonade in his mouth. “Yes, my friends do things like that a lot.”

“That’s wonderful!” She turned to you. “You should go outside and spend time with them more.” Her eyes were almost pleading, begging for you to have a social life that resembled more of what she deemed normal. 

“Would you like to go to the carnival tomorrow? I haven’t had a chance to explore it yet.” Jeno shifted in his seat, his hopeful smile growing.

Although the traveling carnival faithfully returned to your town every summer, you had avoided it like the plague, a little too reluctant to be a part of the crowd, a little too afraid to wander away from the comfort of your house. You raised a hand to wave off the offer in the most polite way you could. The rejection gathered on the tip of your tongue. 

It didn’t have the chance to come out when your grandma abruptly agreed on your behalf. Like a child who just got her way, she stuck her tongue out at you while Jeno wasn’t looking and quickly returned to an ingenuous expression when he faced her. “Try some of the peaches. They’re really sweet,” she chirped. 

You forgot you were supposed to be upset by her interference as you laughed at her antics. You watched as she conversed with Jeno, her nose wrinkling with amusement when he told her about how his friends got lost and drove around in circles for an hour until they found their way here. 

You smoothed your hand over the peach in your palms and took a bite. 

For the first time in forever, you remembered what it felt like to let someone in.

From a distance, you heard the waltz of the carnival music. Then, it mingled with the subtle whooshing of air brakes of the rides and the ringing of pinball machines as you approached, sneakers sinking into the hot sand as you made your way across the beach. The scent of donuts and fries wafted through the humid, salty air that made your clothes stick uncomfortably to your skin. Dropped ice cream littered the boardwalk that creaked under the steps of skipping children. 

It was daunting; you felt there was no room for you here. 

“What do you want to do first?” Jeno spoke up before your nerves got the best of you. He scanned all the options, and the sunlight glossed over his features, tinting his eyes a shade of fiery gold that knocked the words right out of your mouth. 

Jeno took your silence as a lack of preference and pulled you onto the pirate ship ride first, tucking himself in between you and another child who rushed for the edge seats. You squirmed in the bench that felt hot even through the material of your pants. The bar smacked down onto your lap, and your stomach nearly plunged to the ground at the lack of escape. As the ride inched up, gradually picking up acceleration with every swing, your knuckles went pale from gripping the bar so hard. The odd feeling of weightlessness made you feel as if your organs were about to rise upward and spill right out.

When the ride tilted at a height that caused a desperate cry to build up at the base of your throat, Jeno threaded his fingers through yours with a reassuring smile. The ride pivoted. His eyes twinkled.

You were so helplessly mesmerized that you forgot to scream during the plummet. 

Jeno’s friends began to wonder why he was always disappearing next door. Never a minute late, he would faithfully knock on your door around sunset time, claiming the skylight window in your room had the best view. Never a second late, you would be there to open the door for him.

He slipped into the little moments of your life so easily that you wondered if the empty spaces were made for him to fill. He unraveled you until you felt you could pour your entire soul into his palms like falling petals kissed his hands in a particularly harsh breeze.

The beginning of August rolled in, the brightest, sun-drenched days of the summer gone, and a new autumn a good distance away, yet you could sense it preparing to plant its cool fingers on earth.

It was August, and you wanted to love more than anything.

You blindly fumbled for your pillow in the darkness and wrapped your limbs around it, drinking in the pale moonlight and absolute stillness in your cramped bedroom. It was your favorite time of the day, when the whole world retreated and left you with the heavy night air and quiet ticks of the clock. 

Jeno sighed wistfully, shattering the silence, chest dipping in with the exhale. He was sitting cross-legged on your carpet, leaning sideways, shoulder pressed against the side of your bed. “I’m going to miss this view when I go back.”

The reminder stung like someone suddenly planted burning steel on your bare skin. You clutched the pillow with your fingers and shifted in your position. The wrinkled sheets underneath your thighs suddenly felt cold to the touch.

He tipped his head to the side a little more before relaxing completely, leaning on the edge of your mattress. “I can’t see any of the stars in the city, so it feels a little lonely when I’m by myself at night,” he continued.

But you’ve been able to see the stars all your life, the entire universe visible, whole, seemingly within reach, yet you were outside of it, lost and detached. It would step back whenever you reached for it.

Even with Jeno beside you, the tips of his hair grazing your knee, the hums he emitted lingering in your eardrums, you couldn’t help but think to be human was to be lonely, to be utterly alone. Though you were used to it, a certain kind of alone sometimes dragged you under with its weight.

"Yeah,” you quietly agreed. “The city does that.” You peered down at him, and he was so close that your fingers could touch him if you just stretched your hand a little bit. 

It was August, and you wanted to love and be loved more than anything.

It seemed that Jeno was not the type to remember to check the weather forecast beforehand and bring an umbrella. With all the time you spent around him, somehow his happy-go-lucky attitude had rubbed off on you and broke your careful routine of over-preparing every time you left the house.

When Jeno showed up earlier than usual and spontaneously knocked on your door to invite you to a post-dinner stroll by the shore, and your grandma popped out of the kitchen to usher you out, nearly shoving you toward Jeno with a hand on your back, you figured a short walk would be harmless enough.

It began as a whisper in the air. Cold pearls of night drizzle dropped onto the leaves of the tree above your head before gliding down and landing on your outstretched palm. The clear tinkling sound intensified as the fine drops escalated into a sheet of rain that tore through the blanket of leaves.

“Should we make a run for it?” Jeno half yelled through the downpour. The rain was sharp. It dripped off his face. His drenched hair began to cling to his forehead. He pushed it back with a swipe of his palm.

You nodded and pointed to the row of stores with awnings at the other end of the beach, their neon signs flashing vividly against the puddles that accumulated on the ground. Rubbing the rain out of your eyes, you prepared to sprint.

“Hold on.” Jeno tugged you back by pulling the end of your shirt. He slipped off his colorblock windbreaker and raised it above his head, stepping close until he made sure you were also covered. With his arm grazing your shoulder blades, you grew acutely aware of how he was close enough for you to feel the slight chill on his skin. He peered at you through his drooping lashes, irises dark like the looming clouds, and gently nudged you to huddle even closer. “Ready?”

He pushed forward with small strides until you picked up the pace, wet sand splattering up your legs with each step. You crossed the beach with your shoes sinking into the ground. The cold air filled your lungs with a particularly deep inhale, and you felt the thrill of running through the rain for the first time.

By the time you reached a dry area, it was clear the jacket wasn’t quite effective in shielding anyone from the storm. You erupted into a fit of giggles as you squeezed the water out of your shirt.

“What’s so funny?” Jeno quipped, amused as he shook the windbreaker.

You lightly shrugged. “I don’t know. That was fun, I guess. I’ve always hated the rain, but sometimes I would see kids run around when it’s pouring outside and jump in puddles like nothing in the world could possibly bother them, and then I would wonder why I can’t have what they have.”

The storm hammered against the awning above. The look Jeno gave you almost made you feel uneasy, as if he were pitying you, yet you couldn’t quite force yourself to turn away. Your fingertips tingled, mouth going dry, a little worried about making him uncomfortable with the sudden revelation.

He tilted his head, a pensive smile forming on his lips. There was a hypnotizing tenderness in his eyes. “Are you happy right now?”

You hesitated, allowed the question to slice right through your mind. There was a moment of quiet that dispersed along the waves as the rain tapered off. Something ached inside, fiercely and searingly.

The rain was cold, but Jeno was warm.

“I am,” you asserted, toes curling inside your wet sneakers, never having felt so positive of something your entire life. “I am happy.”

It is said that you shouldn’t search for happiness in others but rather make an endeavor to find it within, but Jeno tasted like ecstasy bundled into a heavenly illusion of forever when you kissed him by the shore. You dropped the careful reasoning and tossed every last bit of caution to the summer wind.

Being with Jeno was better than fantasy but not quite reality, yet you basked in all the very finite moments that exploded and fizzled out just as quickly as fireworks.

You liked his sense of humor, the way his smile stopped you in your tracks, his light voice when he stayed up talking to you, how he cared in the subtlest ways. He had permanently carved his name into a quiet corner of your heart.

There was no doubt you liked Jeno.

So you danced with him on the streets when everyone sought shelter from the summer rain. You snuck out the house at 4AM to chase the sunrise with him, laced your fingers with his like he was your lifeline, shared all your childhood dreams that never came true as you gazed into his eyes. You lived each day like the world was moments away from its demise. You kissed harder, laughed harder, loved harder—all with the end in mind.

There was no doubt you liked Jeno, but when you were under the covers at night, feeling as if you were struggling at the bottom of a pool, you would tell yourself you were lucky to have something fleeting but beautiful to look back on. You convinced yourself to find solace in how even if it were only for a month or so, you were with someone who thought the stars existed solely for you.

Jeno was just temporary bliss, a memory of the summer; you couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

When you said you were happy, what you truly meant was you were happy with Jeno here, but when the time for him to leave arrived with the autumn wind, it would all collapse again.

“I don’t belong there.” You tensed up at his proposal of you going to the city with him, instinctively curling away from him and shifting closer to the edge of the bed.

“But you can move in with me until we find a place for you,” Jeno pushed on. He tenderly stroked your hair from behind, flattening his fingers along your back in a soft caress. “You’ll have me.”

“That’s not the problem. I don’t belong there! This is my home.” You clutched your pillow a little harder, clenched your fist to prevent your mind from crumbling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeno didn’t answer for a while. Your words drifted around the room until it violently shattered on him. His breath shuddered, throat bitterly dry as if he had swallowed gravel.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore.” Cautiously turning your body to face him, you settled with keeping your gaze on his collarbones. You expelled a trembling breath that rattled your bones, nails digging into the flesh of your palms as you forced yourself to speak. “I just want to enjoy the time we have left.”

If the room weren’t so silent, Jeno would’ve thought he had misheard your frail whispers. He pulled his hand away as if you were burning him, a dull sensation running along his veins until it settled in his lungs. Then, he nodded. “Alright.”

A person’s pain can be placed on a subjective scale of one to ten; you weren’t sure where to place the sharp coldness Jeno’s fingertips left on your back, or the harsh crash in the pit of your stomach when you finally lifted your gaze to meet his but he had already turned away. You had lost him before he had even left.

Being with Jeno was letting go slowly, and then all at once.

On a golden afternoon, you watched Jeno tug the same black aluminum suitcase down the steps of the porch.

Hidden behind the curtains of the kitchen window, you bit your lower lip, feet anchored to the floor as if you were chained. A fragment of you wasn’t ready to drop everything you had impulsively cultivated during the best days of summer. Perhaps there was still a chance for it all to blossom into something more than momentary.

The engine ticked. Jaemin hollered at Haechan to bring his phone charger. The thumps of suitcases stacking on top of one another was a taunting reminder of the impending departure. The chirping birds were singing about the very last day. 

A new dread ate away at your chest when Jeno slammed the trunk shut—a grating, deafening sound. 

He lifted his phone out of his pocket, and you anxiously gripped yours a little tighter in your sweaty palms. For a brave moment, you wondered how it would be to run after him, beg him to not fall in love with someone new, envelop him in your arms until he had enough forgiveness in him to be yours again. For a brave moment, you wanted to leave all of your comforts behind and find a new home in a city that was much bigger than your meager dreams. 

The screen illuminated with a notification; a simple text that read: Farewell. 

You told yourself there was no other ending. You were skin and bones wrapped around a collection of farewells and old stories of people going, leaving nothing behind except memories of how they walked away without looking back. 

The bright yellow rover took an achingly long time to leave your line of sight as it went down the one way trail. You memorized the license plate as it grew smaller and smaller. The hollowness numbingly settled somewhere close to your heart. Chances, you realized, were something you allowed to slip through the crevices of your splayed fingers every single time. 

When everything turned still again, scattered houses abandoned with fresh car trails in the soil that led straight back to the skyscrapers, vacant shore free of footsteps, traveling carnival dismantled and tucked into boxes, you accepted that summer had crumbled into autumn right in front of your eyes.

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct angst #nct dream scenarios #jeno scenarios #nct fluff #this has been sitting in my drafts for months i edited it a billion times and can't bear to look at it anymore

[tvvivi]

Twilight

summary:

Life was fine, going to school Monday through Friday and going to church on the weekends. Throughout the school year I would get real busy and didn’t have much time to do things I enjoy. Going home from school would take about an hour, while I was on the train I would put on my headphones and listen to music, always looking out the window. I didn’t talk to anyone and nobody talked to me.

 When I was home, all I did was lay in my bed and watch movies. I love movies. The way they make me laugh, smile, and cry. They help me forget the boring life I had. 

So when I woke up on a plane with a grandma sitting right next to me, I panicked. When I realized what was going on, I went along with it. I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t think I would stay there for long. But if I was staying here for the rest of my life with stupid dumb people where vampires and werewolves existed, I wouldn’t want to go back to my boring mediocre life.

[1,386 words]

Chapter 3 - Edward Cullen

After lunch Mike walked me to Biology class, when we get there I walk in and see Edward, his dark brown hair, his perfect pretty face. He has such nice eyes and even his eyebrows look perfect. I see him cover his nose like he just smelled the most repulsive thing in his life. The expression he’s making makes his face weird. He looks constipated. The teacher tells me to sit next to him and I try not to give him a look back. During class he just keeps staring at me and I want to tell him to piss off but I don't. Before the bell even rang he got up and basically ran out the door. I know Edward is at the main office asking to get his schedule changed.

After school Charlie took me to a diner to eat out. When we got home I did my homework and waited for Bellas mom to call. We talked about my day and how weird the kids are at the new school. The only person who I liked was Jessica, even though she seems not to like me I like the way she knows how to act, she knows when to laugh and when to smile. She’s has a pretty smile.

Angela is okay too but I don’t like the fact that she took a picture of me without asking first. She didn’t have much screen time in the movie so I cant really say anything about her.

Mike and Eric seem like good guys, though they are a little dense. They don’t even notice when a girl so close and so pretty likes them. 

That night when I go to sleep I think about Edward and I try to remember the story line as best as possible. What I do remember though is that Edward, that weirdo, comes into my room at night and watches Bella, aka me, sleep. Though I don’t think that happens until a little while later.

The next day at school I don't see Edward around and I know its because he’s having his little “episode” about not being able to read my mind. He misses a week of school.

When I wake up for school I don’t see my truck, I assume Charlie went to go switch out the tires. I also assume this is when the “animal” attacks start.

When I get out of the house and start walking to the truck I slip and fall. Charlie runs over to me, 

“You all right?” He asks me as he helps me up, Im so embarrassed right now. 

“Yeah, Im good. Thanks.” I say, looking at the floor. While  walking to the truck he tells me about the tires,

“Yeah, just be carful. I put new tires on the truck, old ones were getting pretty bald.” He tells me while lightly kicking the front wheel. 

“Well, probably be late for dinner. I gotta head down to Mason County.” Right on cue,“Security guard at the Grisham Mill got killed by some kind of animal.” 

“An animal?” I ask, hoping to learn something useful. 

“You’re not in Phoenix anymore, Bells.” Of course I know Im not in Phoenix, Ive never even been there.

“Anyway I figured I’d lend a hand.” Charlie says, guess he wont be home as often. 

 “Be careful.” I tell him, even though I know nothing bad is going to happen to him Im still worried. Guess Im getting attached. 

“Always am.” He tells me, I give him a smile and thank him for the tires.

“Yeah.” He gets into his car, I get into mine and drive off to school. 

Eric comes up to me while I'm on my way to biology, “Prom Committee is a chick thing but I gotta cover it for the paper anyway, and they need a guy to help choose the music so I need your playlist. Hey, listen, um I was wondering, did you have a date to..” Eric didn’t get to finish as Mike came up to us,

“What’s up Arizona? How you liking the rain girl?” Mike says while shaking his wet cap on top of my hair letting the droplets fall on top of my head. 

“Better get used to it girl.” Mike says, I chuckle at his comment and move away from them, and start walking to the lab table. I see Edward sitting down at the table, looking at me. He’s so weird for that, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him staring at me with those pretty eyes. Though today I notice that he’s not wearing the contacts that hide his beautiful eyes. 

I sit down next to him giving him a nod before I sit down, I didn’t want to be rude. While waiting for class to start, he talks to me. 

“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself last week. Im Edward Cullen. You’re Bella?” He says while smiling at me, I want to punch him in the face. No shit you dumb fuck, You didn’t come to school for a week just so you could avoid me. 

“Uhm yeah.” I smile at him a bit and look away while the teacher starts talking. He says something about an onion root tip cells and something else about phases of mitosis. 

“Ladies first.” He says while sliding the microscope over to me.

“Thanks,” I look into the microscope trying to make it focus on the sample so that I could see it better.

“You weren’t here for awhile.” I glance over at him for a second, 

“Yeah, I was out of town for a couple of days. Personal reasons.” He avoids looking at me in the eyes. I roll my eyes, He’s such a bad liar.  

“Prophase.” I slide the microscope to the side and write down my observations. 

“Do you mind if I look?” He looks at me, I just give him a shrug. He slides the microscope over to his side to look into it. He doesn’t even look at it for long when he says, 

“Its Prophase.”  

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” I tell him, why doesn’t he just listen to me? 

“You enjoying the rain?” He’s looking at me and smiling, he looks hot, he has a nice smile. 

“Yeah, I guess. Makes me want to stay in bed all day listening to music and drinking coffee,” I smile back at him, Just because Bella didn’t like the rain or anything ‘cold’ doesn’t mean I don’t. I enjoy the rain, Well I don’t like getting wet but looking at the rain is nice. “What about you? You like the rain?”

“Yeah, I like the rain.” He smiles at me and grabs the next sample switching the other one out.  He looks at the sample through the microscope, “It’s Anaphase.” He didn’t look back up at me and just started writing it down on his paper.

“Mind if I check?” I said, 

“Sure.” He looked up at me. I didn’t bother really checking, I just took a quick glance, 

“Anaphase.” I looked over at him and saw him smiling at me. He has such a cute smile. 

“Like I said.” He chuckled a bit and showed his nice strait white teeth. God he’s so hot. I didn’t bother writing it down on my paper, I didn’t care much about this assignment. Not when I can just spend class talking to Edward.

“I get why you moved here then, the wettest place in the continental U.S. you love it” He looked over in my direction but didn’t bother making eye contact with me. 

“Well, not really. Its a bit more complicated than that.” I said but I cant really say much. I mean its not like I really know why Bella decided to come here.

“I’m sure I can keep up.” He said his eyes now on mine. This time though, I was the one to look away. 

“Just drop it. Its none of your business” I was irritated, he should know how to mind his business. 

“Sorry.” He grabbed the microscope and changed the samples. “It’s metaphase. You want to check it?” 

“I believe you.” I looked back at him and he looked at me with his beautiful hazel eyes. I feel bad now.

#bella swan #edward cullen #fem reader #reader insert #the cullens #twilight saga #twilight sparkle #x reader #twilight movies #twilight renaissance #twilight bella #sorry if its bad #im trying #vampire #not weird at all #charlie swan #stephanie meyer #fanfiction #fanfic

[doubleddenden]

I'm going to make an adult Scoobert Dooby Doo spin-off utilizing all members of Mystery Inc and throw in my own ideas.

Premise: a villain has kidnapped Scrappy Doo and the rest of the Doo clan. Yes, we're going to like Scrappy Doo by making him a cute puppy and yes we're going to ignore the last 20 years of Scrappy erasure.

The Doos are being guarded closely by "Monsters," and by "Monsters" I mean people that the Big Bad has gifted special costumes to that turn them into the monsters for as long as they wear the masks. The longer you wear it, the more humanity you lose. Also most of the villains are serial killers and corrupt people that the Big Bad has broken out, and they all have some grudge or another against Mystery Inc members.

As for the gang themselves, we're going to try to keep things truer to form, but I will drip some uniqueness to this iteration. For the record, they're in their late 20s now.

Fred: stressed dad friend but kind Himbo type. Also he's gay and his boyfriend is Alan M Mayberry- yes, the blond guy from Josey and the Pussy Cats. There's a recurring joke about people having trouble telling them apart. Alan is a talented folk singer on tour and still friends with his Co stars. Fred in this series is a car mechanic and has engineering experience as well, so he's the "Pimp my ride" type guy to add in all sorts of bullshit to cars (explaining why the MM is so suped up). He insists that ascots are "in" but they're not.

Daphne: Used to date Fred for a bit, then they realized they weren't really for each other and Fred eventually realized he was gay. Daphne is still supportive of him. She's into fashion and knows martial arts like usual, but also has a bit of a goofy side to her. She loves and supports her friends a lot and will absolutely be the "She asked for no pickles!" Person. There's also a gag that she's done some crimes- like freeing animals from a zoo, vandalizing cop cars, stealing all the left shoes of her previous ex, etc. Also is friends with the Hex Girls, and in college they- usually gets cut off by shenanigans but they absolutely fucked.

Velma: okay we're going to have fun with this bitch because I honestly find her boring or kinda bitchy in her later iterations. First off she's a bisexual, second of all she's sort of got the personality she had from A Pup Named Scooby Doo where she's quiet for the most part, solving things in the background, and a tech genius. She is very useless around pretty nerdy girls and handsome DILF types. Also, a running gag from the show is that she sometimes takes up part time work with other Mystery Solvers like the Clue Club, Fang Face, etc. She's very thoughtful of her friends and always remembers birthdays and such. Scooby is very protective of her. Absolutely has a shrine dedicated to waifus and husbandos, and she doesn't really care that her friends see it. She will kiss her picture of David Harbour and you can either get out or make it awkward for both of you by staring.

Shaggy: scaredy cat, food lover, basically mostly what we're familiar with- except everyone always accuses him of being a stoner. He's never touched a weed in his life because he made a promise to his grandma that he wouldn't. He's just REALLY into scooby snacks for some reason- Velma hypothesises it's because he has a few times more taste buds than average and can taste seasonings no normal person would ever detect. Shaggy is also a well known track star and gymnast, a ventriloquist, and he does improv sometimes with friends. He's a dense harem protagonist- he's straight, just dense af. He doesn't know why Madelyn (Velma's little sister from Abra Kadabra Doo) looks at him with big ol doe eyes, he doesn't get why the Hex Girls keep dedicating songs to him, he doesn't get why Tootie (Reluctant Werewolf) messages him at like 3 am with "U up?" And pictures of herself in cute outfits, thinks its neat that Bat Girl gave him her number once, got invited to be a roadie for spring break for Josie and the Pussy Cats- and this drives the others CRAZY because they all ALSO had crushes on him at some point and made it obvious af, but he's kinda dumb in that regard and so they moved on. He DID have a crush on a hippie girl, but she turned out to be an alien and he's still a little sore about it. Beloved family friend of the Doo clan and part of some chosen one prophecy handed down to them by the ages.

Scooby is here obviously. Everyone assumes Shaggy is the stoner but it's actually SCOOBY that smokes. For this series, Scooby and Shaggy both have the ability to utilize haunted costumes like the bad guys, but Scooby as a beast can remain in perfect control of himself as a man Shark, a demon, or whatever. He is still scared and dumb and a good luck type of clumsy of course, but he's also got some "adult cartoon" qualities. He's a convicted felon, he's a retired secret agent and has all sorts of weird connections, for some reason most celebrities know him, he's part of a Mystery Mascot Union with the likes of Speed Buggy, Jabber Jaw, Sebastion the Cat, etc, and he curses. Ruck you! Rhat da rell? Ritches ret stitches. The Doo clan sent him to live with Shaggy as a puppy as part of an exchange program, and then in Scooby's rebellious age he went off and did all sorts of shit. He's now a scaredy cat after some "incident" at the vet that he refuses to elaborate on, but he loves each of his friends dearly and will go feral for them if necessary. He makes scooby snack edibles and he's got some kids with a random dog, and works with the gang to make child support. Oddly enough, it took Scrappy Doo, his sister's kid, to make him realize he's been missing out on fatherhood.

And of course there's a running gag with Scrappy Doo, who sounds like Catbug now. He's adorable and is either adorably sad or doing puppy stuff like chasing his tail and breaking out of his prison.

Guest appearances by Flim Flam, Tootie, Vincent Van Ghoul, casts of various other Scooby clones, the Boo Brothers, Batman and friends, and of course each episode has one or two Doos, like Yabba Doo, Scooby Dum, Ruby Doo (Scrappy's mom), Skippy Doo, Uncle Horton Doo, and kids we're going to call Gooby, Zooby, and Tooby.

And the big bad? The big bad?

RED HERRING.

#scooby doo #don't take this too seriously its just done in fun

[its-monster-mash]

Moodboards for my New OCs

So I'm planning to write a new horror-sort-of-romance loosely based off of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, so I made a couple of moodboards for the main characters.

Name: Vanessa "Nessie" Abbott (formerly Andrews). She was given the name "Abbott" when she "joined" the family at three years old.

Eye color: Gray

Height: 5'6"

Age: 19

Backstory: When she was three, her family’s car broke down in the rural hills of West Virginia, not a house in sight. When a man came out of the woods, saying they had a house up the overgrown drive, Vanessa’s (wealthy) parents went with him, in hopes of using his family’s phone, but something wasn’t quite right about the rustic mountain farmhouse, even if it was warm and homey. Unbeknownst to her, while Vanessa played with the family’s younger son, Sylas, her parents were being brutally murdered. The Abbotts told Vanessa that her parents had gone for a mechanic, and when they never came back, they led Vanessa to believe she’d been abandoned, but consoled her with the fact that they would care for her now. 

The Abbotts raised “Nessie” alongside Sylas and the other kids (their biological children, probably). Once she got old enough to help with the killing, she realized what must have happened to her parents, but she tries not to think about it, because she likes her life and loves her new family—all thinking about her old family would do is cause problems.

Nessie doesn’t remember her parents very well, but she does remember her grandma’s house, and how she thought it looked like a castle. Her only really distinct memory of childhood was of playing with the cousins. It’s odd to her to think that those cousins are probably still out there, thinking she went missing with her parents.

Nessie and Sylas are close—she sees him and the Abbott kids as her siblings, but she doesn’t know yet that the Abbotts kept her to be Sylas’s wife.

Name: Sylas Abbott

Eye color: Green-Hazel

Height: 6'2"

Age: 20

Backstory: Middle child in the Abbott family of cannibals living in the wilderness of West Virginia.

He knows he’s supposed to marry Nessie, and he genuinely loves her, but he’s nervous about bridging that gap because he knows she sees him as her brother, and he doesn’t want her to hate him.

He's known since they were kids that he was supposed to marry her when they grew up, but she didn't get the same memo, so that puts him in an awkward position. Still, the family has him under increasing pressure to make a move.

Takes care of the animal livestock (they eat human meat, but they have sheep for dairy and wool, and chickens for eggs) and the farm.

Notes on other Abbott family members under the cut.

Grady Abbott: 28, 6’1”, brown hair—always has motor oil in it, a little beefier than Sylas. Oldest Abbott child (up for debate whether he’s an Abbott by blood or not). Mechanic; keeps the machines up and running. Gruff personality, not parentified by the parents, but considers himself the “head” sibling. Father’s favorite. (He gets a picture because I found the perfect picture for him when I was trying to find one for Sylas)

Abigail Abbott: 25, 5’9”, ash blond hair, wiry build, was awkward and lanky when she was younger, but she’s grown into herself. Cherishes The Hunt more than any of the kids; strives to be father’s favorite. Thinks Nessie is being overdramatic when she takes issue with Sylas’s proposal.

Wilder Abbott: 16, 6’1”, ash blond hair, Faye’s twin. Very average redneck teenage boy. Prankster. Great at making traps—learning mechanics from Grady.

Faye Abbott: 16, 5’8”, ash blond hair, Wilder’s twin. “Boyish”, prankster, really good at hiding—Nessie sewed her a ghillie suit which she cherishes. Ambush predator.

Harrison Abbott: Abbott family patriarch, 57, 6’, dark brown hair, wiry build. Quiet, in contrast to most of the family. Dark past (obviously). Obsessed with “keeping meet on the table”. His mom killed his father one incredibly lean winter and fed him to young Harrison to keep him alive. Harrison is intent on never having to eat another family member, and never having his family go hungry. He feels that if they're willing to kill outsiders, they'll never have to resort to killing their own kin.

Genie Abbott: Abbott family mother, 49, 5’9”, ash blonde hair, stout strong build. Classically motherly, mother-hens her children. Considers Nessie a “blessing” to their family (it was her idea to keep Nessie as a future wife for Sylas). Very doting on Nessie, always had her at her side when she was growing up. Grooming Nessie to be the kind of woman she wants her son to marry. Sweet like the smell of a rotting human body.

_

The main Victim group when I actually write the book will be led by a cousin of Nessie's from her birth family. A rich asshole. Might have a "Final Girl" in the Victim group, but I haven't decided yet.

#Abbott Family OCs #horror ocs #original slasher characters #original characters #Sylas Abbott OC #Nessie Abbott OC #If you ask me about them I love you

[sugar-vi421]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 | 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘩𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯

Bus Ticket.

tw: strong language.

  THE FIRST DAY IN ROSEVILLE

I Close my car door with my keys in hand, you could hear the jingling sound from them as I walk up to the front of the house. The House had looked a bit different than I remembered...there was fresh new paint on the front door and there was no chipping in the wood. I step up on the stairs to porch and to my surprise I didn't hear one creak. Mom must have gotten this place fixed up after Grandma Millie passed, who knows...maybe she wanted to sell it.

I take a breath in, smelling in the scent of cut grass making me want to sneeze a little.

It's kind of weird being back here, now that I've gotten older, I notice the house is a bit creepy, especially since the backyard is a big open space that leads right to the woods.

Grandma Millie told me to never go into those woods and that it was dangerous...

But I was a kid, and I didn't believe her-

"Hey excuse me ma'am!"

I turn around and see a moving service truck parked with the back open and 2 workers in their uniform, I ordered a service due to the fact I had a bunch of boxes, and I didn't feel like going back and forth on a 1-hour drive for a couple of boxes.

It was already 7 pm, and yes I decided to go later in the day because I forgot to pack all my stuff.

"All of your things have already been placed in the house, I just need you to sign here confirming we were here." He said in an annoyed tone basically shoving the clipboard and pen into my hands, I sign on the line, I gave him back the pen and he just walked away.

Rude much.

I went inside and like he said, everything was there. I look around and it looks exactly how I remembered it; I take a step back and I accidentally bump into something-

"Ouch"

-or someone...?

"I'm so sorry I wasn't paying attention"- The man just let out an awkward laugh and scratched the back of his head,

He was a hot mess.

"Oh no its okay, I was just looking around the house. It looks the same, but the vibe is oddly different?" I smell the fresh paint on the walls, I look around the room one more time and in the corner of my eye I see an outline for a tiny door opening under the stairs.

Strange, that was never there before.

"Yeah, especially with that new guy in town...people think its not safe anymore and I agree. It's a bit weird that you decided to return to Roseville now with everything going on." He said while his smile faded as soon as he mentioned that it wasn't safe.

New guy? Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

"Wait what are you talking about?" If I knew about this, I would've said no and stood up my own parents that evening. I don't care if its mean or whatever you probably said behind that little screen of yours.

He laughed and I just stood there feeling left out which I was, when he noticed I wasn't laughing he slowly stopped smiling.

"You really don't know? I shake my head no and he gripped part of his sleeve, he went to say something but stopped. Almost as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

Been there, but he really needs to start explaining who this guy is.

                              - ??? POV

                              9:54 pm

I rummage through my purse looking for my bus ticket I had just bought earlier,

God, I need a car...

Wow Sabrina, only if you had listened to your sister and took her offer on getting a ride.

But no, of course not.

The bus pulls up and I still can't find my ticket, I stop digging through my bag and look around quickly, I see my ticket on the floor, I run to grab it and as soon as I did, I turned around to see the same bus I needed to get home on leave.

Just my fucking luck.

Groaning I start walking, its about to be 10pm already and I just walked out from this horrible first date, it wasn't even the place that was bad, He didn't even offer to pay...He just said bye and walked out to his fancy car. Hopefully I can walk fast and get home...with a nice warm relaxing bath waiting for me.

The streets were empty, no one is usually out at this time. All I can hear are my heels clicking as my foot hits the ground and the things in my purse moving around when I walk.

Then I hear a pair of footsteps walking behind me, I don't look back however because they are a bit far away and what if they missed their bus like I did?

The footsteps started to get louder meaning they were getting closer.

I turned around to look behind me and I see a man with a hoodie on, I couldn't see his face because he was looking down, but I did see something sticking out of his pocket, it was metal because I can see the light from the streetlamp reflecting off from it but when I saw the back handle connected too it my heart dropped immediately.

This was not happening to me.

Please no.

I quickly turn back around and picked up the pace which I was walking.

But so did the man.

I saw a few lights and see a building up ahead, but I needed to make a turn.

He was getting closer, and my heart was racing faster.

I started to run, I ran and went right, and I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, the building was about 2 blocks away and all the houses I've just past either had for sale signs up or the lights were off.

I slowed down and looked behind me to see the man was gone, I stopped to listen, and he was gone. I sighed out of relief.

I turned back around.

And there he was standing with the same knife I saw earlier, but this time he had on a hooded robe with a rubber white mask with black eyes, nose and mouth all black, the robe was black as well so all you could really see was his mask and the knife he was holding.

I started to slowly walk back, and he walked towards me,

Then I ran.

At this point I'm crying and running for my life in heels, I ran back to where the bus was and decided to go around so I can go to the nearest open building and ask for help.

However this is when my heel decided it didn't want to continue anymore, I tripped as one of the heels on my shoes snapped in half, I got up quickly as I saw the man getting closer as he was walking towards me, I take off the shoes and started to just run but he swinged his knife at me as I got up and slashed me in the arm. As a reflex I hit him with my bag in my other hand making him drop his knife.

He went to look for his knife as it landed somewhere in a bush, and I just took off.

Thank God.

I saw a police station up ahead; from any other view you'd see me just running with my hand on my arm bleeding with no shoes on and messed up hair. I looked crazy.

I got to the doors and opened it just shouting for help, the officers at the front saw me and immediately rushed to my side asking me what happened, and they saw the long cut on my arm and sat me down.

They patched my arm up and gave me some painkillers with a small cup of water. I had no idea of how I was going to get home or when for that matter since they wanted to ask me a few questions about what happened to me.

But I was just glad I was safe now.

"There have been multiple reports of missing persons over just this past month, and sadly the ones who were left have been found dead with numerous amounts of wounds, specifically stab wounds.

Earlier today there was a paper written by Jed Olsen, some of you may have read this paper already today but according to the article this new killer has been revealed with the video surveillance at what seems to be a victim's home, the camera was set by the killer and left there for the police to gather as evidence. The Surveillance shows the victim being stabbed while trying to escape the grasp of our newly town stalker. We have no more information for the killer now being named by the media as..."

...

"The Ghostface."

"Please remember to get home safely, lock all your doors and to be home at 9pm as the police have set a town curfew. We don't want any adults and children getting hurt. Be safe everyone."

I listened in on the news that was playing from the small tv in the corner, everyone's attention was on it and oh my god.

That's him-

I started to shout, and everyone looked at me.

That's the guy who just chased me and tried to kill me...

                                  - Luci's POV

"Wow I had no idea this town had changed from being the perfect place to raise a family into a place where no one is truly safe anymore..." I looked down and my hands just to realize how happy I was to return and now...not so much.

It's really shocking, a serial killer of all things?? Did I jinx myself-

I swear I need to stop doing that.

Even better that I work for the FBI investigating these types of people. How Fitting.

"Yeah, it's a shame really. I must go now but be careful out there! It was nice seeing a fresh face for once." The guy laughed as he walked out, halfway to the truck he looked back and waved and I waved back.

Speaking of serial killers and all of that...I wonder what I'll be working on when I start.

Should be totally unrelated to that stalker guy.

I hate saying stalker guy, he needs a name.

                      A FEW HOURS LATER

                                    10:32pm

I just finished a warm shower after getting all my boxes and bags unpacked and I settled in what used to be my old parent's room for when they used to stay over. I couldn't bring myself to take my old grandmother's room.

I sit at my desk and grab my laptop from my bag, I search up this infamous stalker only to see 12 people found dead either in their homes or in their own office within 2 months.

Wow this guy must have been doing this for a long time before Roseville. Not one clue to who he is except for those cheap videos he sends to the police.

I take out my phone and download an app linked to Roseville news reports so whenever he decides to strike again, I'll know, or for any reason I'll just get the notification. I scroll on random apps on my phone for a few minutes until I start yawning.

I look at the time and it's getting late I should get some sleep.

I put down my phone on the side table next to the bed and put it on the charger, I unfold the blanket I packed with me and set the bed, lifting up one side of the blanket I get under, turning to the side table turning of the lamp and getting in a comfortable position heading to sleep.

1:34 am

Ding!

"23-year-old, Sabrina Madden was found dead in her bedroom by her boyfriend, after reportedly being followed and attacked by a man with a white mask earlier that night. Swipe right to read more."

– ROSEVILLE NEWS.

- an

Finally I got done with this chapter and really I just wanted to point out something that may be a little confusing, when the guy is explaining about this killer that's out and about, the part where this girl getting chased didn't happen yet. To them Ghostface isn't revealed yet and its just been a few people who have been found yk. The chase actually happened when luci is unpacking her things and the notification is later that night so I just wanted to clear that up since I confused myself when re- reading this over lol. ANYWAYS give me feedback if you feel you want to share anything!! <3

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