#ive only drawn him like three times i felt it was needed

[dailyedgeworth]

today, a sketch of lang!!

#ive only drawn him like three times i felt it was needed #not that i really like this one so. maybe not. #ALSO he does not have the fur coat bc i didnt feel like drawing it #also i think men in just their shirts look good #might make it more form fitting next time #anyway #shi long lang #aai #ace attorney #gyakusai #gyakuten saiban

[chrissturnsgirlll222]

second, never first

part one | part two | part three | part four

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become close friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - underage drinking, throwing up, use of y/n, BOYS (no smut… for now lol and yes i am 18) currently not proofread or written with pristine punctuation

word count - 2500+?? (i know its long but i had a bunch of ideas for the beginning)

this is also my first story so pls be kind :) also just wanted to mention that i wouldn’t have the courage to write and post if it werent for other writers on this app so i would just like to tag and thank a few accounts who inspired me to write<3

@lovingmattysposts @flowerxbunnie @strniohoeee @lacysturniolo @strawberrysturniolo @flynnriderishot @stuniolobbg 

~

for as long as i could remember, being the second option was all i knew. just always being the backup, never the go to.

this constant course of events led to my passion of reading and writing, pretty much consuming myself with content or sources that provided me with a sense of belonging, or just putting myself into a different reality.

i always had been drawn to romance. its a un-comforting comfort for me, if that makes sense. i love reading about it and watching movies about it but love just seemed so out of reach. im sure many people feel this way but i just believe there are certain people in the world that just go through life without any sort of romantic experiences. now while that may be true i also think thats just something i made up in my head to comfort myself from the fact that i have never had a single romantic experience, ever. i mean im 17 years old and havent even had my first kiss. hell i havent even held hands with a boy.

that of course all changed during my senior year.

-

“oh my god look at what cody sent me” anna says.

anna is my best friend, though at times she felt like my biggest competition. she is everything im not. constantly talking to boys, what people consider ‘boy pretty’, very out going and popular. the fun one.

i look over at her phone to see a text from one of the many boys shes talked to in the past year “i thought you guys were done?” i say

“yeah were not talking like that anymore but i still talk to him here and there” she says

“i dont know if thats the best idea, i mean if you guys keep talking hes probably going to get the wrong impression”

“your such a buzz kill sometimes” she says slightly annoyed. i stay silent. I might sound like a complete bitch here but when your friend is constantly talking or complaining about guy, a, b and c you eventually get bored and exhausted of hearing about it, I try my hardest to be understanding when she brings up guys, but I’m apparently never supportive enough to her standards. I suppose she wants me to be there and give her advice but what do I have to offer to that conversation?

we were driving through the school parking lot to park in our usual spot next to chris.

chris is, well complicated. ive known him since 7th grade and hated him up until about 3 months ago when senior year started. the friendship started off with him just parking next to my car everyday and him just pestering me all the time but the longer we kept parking together, the more we grew to enjoy our casual conversations.

we both roll down our windows.

“morning” i say waving at him, anna does the same “hey, i wanna skip first block if you guys are down” he says “you know i would never say to to that” anna says “ehh i dont know about today i have a bio project i need to work on and didnt getting the planning sheet so i should probably head in” i say

“alright, anna come on i wanna get mcdonalds” chris says tapping on his passenger seat.

“looks like its just us this morning! y/n me and chris can just go get food and ill bring you back something for lunch” anna says turning to me.

“ill see you guys at lunch” i say grabbing my bag and locking my car doors as anna gets in to chris’ car and they drive off.

if you havent caught the weird passive tone from anna, thats how she was. no matter how much i tried she always had to be the centre of attention . i honestly dont even think she does it on purpose. i love her and she is my best friend but i just find her insufferable at times, its just who she is. chris is a great friend to me but i always caught the vibe that chris liked anna or at least thought she was hot. which is also why i think he treats her with more respect than me.

now when i said we grew to like eachother i left out a slight detail.

even though i hated chris for most of high school for the way he treated me and constantly teased me, i couldnt help myself from starring at him from time to time as he talked or even looking at his hands. not only was he visually pleasing he could be really sweet and the conversations we shared were really meaningful at times. was he attractive, yes. was he a complete asshole to me for years and still hasnt apologized, yes. did i completely fall head over heels for him when he began to show me his nice side, sadly yes.

its so cliche but i fell for my “bully” so to speak. i hated myself for it but what i hated even more was how much i let my feelings for him effect how i saw myself even more as the second option. if it came down to it and me anna and him were the only people in the world he would still fuck anna before he even though about kissing me.

i know that i might only feel this way towards him simply because hes the only male thats shown me any attention at all. though it hasnt always been positive or romantic it was still something that i had never experienced from a male before.

like i said, second option.

-

i finish up my final class and head out to my car and wait for anna who is doing god knows what considering i drive her home everyday after school. while waiting for anna, chris gets into his car and starts it to heat up as it is the beginning of winter. i watch what hes doing through his car window as he scrolls on his phone for a sec and then storms into the backseat of my car, always the backseat.

my head whips around to look at him and he looks annoyed. “why do you look mad” i say. “look at what this bitch said to me” he says leaning up to the middle console shoving his phone in my face and i read texts from a girl hes talking to.

friday 3:14pm

alice: chris i cant keep talking to you

chris: what do you mean

alice: i mean that i cant keep talking to you what were doing is messing with my head and i dont want to be a victim of one of your fuck and dumps

chris: im sure i have many other girls who would kill to be in your position

alice: then go have them i dont want to be apart of your sick and twisted hookups

“ok wow” i say my eyes wide “i didnt even know you were talking to alice”

“well now you do, and im not anymore apparently” he says throwing his arms up as he sinks in to the middle seat. “we have been fucking since the halloween party, remember when i kissed her infront of you?” he says in a duh tone.

ah yes halloween. the night i went home crying after said kiss was shared infront of my face.

“yes i remember” i say blankly.

“we were supposed to hangout tonight but she decided to blow me off, i was ready to get my dick wet but i guess ill just have to be fucking boring alone” he says as i make a disgusted face.

“well i dont know what to te-“ i was cut off by anna coming into the car.

“ok sorry i took so long but i was just getting the details for a party tonight!” she says out of breath. chris sits up at the news, “maybe i will get my dick wet then.” he says smirking and jokingly raising his eyebrows.

“what? alice blew you off already.” anna says turning to chris. i dont bother questioning why anna knew and i didnt because im sure i know answer.

“yep and im scoring tonight.” he says fake punching the air as me and anna giggle.

-

anna and i finished getting ready at her place, her wearing jeans and a hot pink tank top and me in black jeans and a white long sleeve crop top. i stare at myself in the mirror when i hear annas phone go off with a text from chris.

friday 10:27pm

chris: here

“anna! chris is here!” i yell grabbing my phone and my drinks for the night from my bag and start making my way downstairs as i hear her close behind me. i tie up my shoes as i hear her grab her drinks from her fridge and say bye her parents. i wave goodbye to her parents as well and we make our way out to chris’ car.

upon entering were greeted by matt, chris’ brother in the passenger seat.

“hey matt i didnt know you were coming out tonight!” i say smiling at him as loud music blasts from chris’ speakers.

“yeah nicks also going so i just tagged along, plus i need to drive you guys home since chris is drinking tonight.” he says lightly punching chris in the arm. “oh yeah, speaking of nick where is he?” i say. “nicks already there he came with his friends.” i nod in response and sit back starting to chug down one of my drinks. i may be a buzz kill in annas eyes but i knew how to party and loved drinking with my friends.

matt is chris’ triplet brother along with nick. i never really got to know his brothers all that well, i just know that matt has become a lot more comfortable around me and anna as we have started to spend more time with chris.

once we arrive to the party me and anna walk around to see whos there and we meet up with some of our other friends. i can see chris from across the room laughing and talking to nick and matt.

the night goes on and i finish my fourth cooler of the night and head out to the car to grab another. when i step outside the cool air hits me and i instantly regret the 2 shots of tequila i had on top of the fruity coolers i had throughout the night. shivering and rubbing my arms i continue walking to chris’ car to sit down for a sec and when i reach the backseat i see chris’ naked back and steamy windows. i take a step back once i realize whats happening.

i knew he was going to end up fucking someone tonight since thats what he said his plan was but i did not need to fucking see it. hes not mine for the taking obviously, but seeing him constantly with girls just hurt.

i turn around to walk back into the house but suddenly feel sick to my stomach. i hunch over and throw up in the middle of the road. i cough and collapse to my knees continuing to gag as strings of spit come out of my mouth. i hear a car door shut behind me as i try to stand up wiping my mouth. i feel arms grab my waist and pick me up bridal style and thats the last thing i remember before everything went black.

-

i wake up in a car with the same clothes on from the party, still drunk, my hair crispy and the smell of cologne. i look around me and realize its chris’ backseat im laying in but its still pitch black out.

i hear faint voices outside and the door my head is resting on swings open and my head flys back.

“holy shit chris are you trying to kill her” i hear matts voice. “shut up, i didn’t know you put her head there.” chris says as he starts pulling me out of the car.

“chris” i say quietly. “holy shit your awake” he says leaving me to sit up. “yeah i am, what happened. i think i- blacked out.” i say slurring my words.

“well i was in the middle of getting with summer-“ he says getting on his knees to talk to me better “and i just heard gagging outside the car and it was bothering me and i looked outside the car and you were bent over on the middle of the road throwing up. i just grabbed you and told summer to fuck off and put you in the car while i grabbed matt and anna.”

“oh my god” i say as i nod off.

“woah woah stay with us here, chris lets get her inside now” matt says placing my head back up.

“where is anna?” i question.

“we had to drop her home and bring you to our house since she said her parents couldn’t see you like this.”

“of course” i say

classic anna.

“what time is it?” i ask rubbing my eyes.

“2:44am” chris grunts taking me out of the car.

“ok lets get you inside” chris says pulling me up to stand. “you think you can walk inside?” he says still holding me up. “ill try.”

he lets go of me and i slowly make it up to the front of their house but start wobbling once i reach the steps and feel both matt and chris grab either side of me and help me up to the front door. matt holds on to my arm as he uses the house key to get inside and i walk in.

they walk me over to the living room couch and i slump over resting my head on the arm rest of the couch.

“where is she going to sleep?” matt says. “my room obviously.” chris says as i smile to myself.

“come on y/n” he says picking me up again and bringing me to his room to lay on his bed. “im gonna give you clothes to change into since yours are covered in vomit.” he says opening drawers. i nod my head as my eyes close.

he tosses me a big white shirt with some graphic designing on it “can you dress yourself or-“ i cut him off “yea- yeah i got it” i say sitting up right and hiccup.

he turns around so i can change into the shirt. i begin taking my long sleeve off and i get one arm off before i get stuck. “chris, help” i say quietly and he turns around to see me with my arms slouched and my eyes closed. he rushes over “lift up your arms” he says pulling my hands up. i hold them up as he grabs the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls up. i admire chris as he pulls off the shirt completely throwing my shirt across the room all while being careful not to look at me.

he grabs his shirt and places it gently over my head and then threading my arms through the shirt. “wait” he says walking over to his closet, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and walking over to me with them. i sit there with my eyes closed smiling as i had thought about the scenario of him taking my clothes off many times, just not the me being so drunk i cant dress myself part.

he takes my jeans off and helps me in to his sweatpants still being respectful and not starring at my body. “ill be right back just sit here im going to get you water and an advil.” he say as he walks out of the room. i just sit there, my eyes still closed, still smiling and nod at his sentence.

i lay back down on his bed and wait as i hear him rushing upstairs talking to matt and nick before walking back in to the room sitting down at the end of his bed. “sit snd open up.” i obliged to his words before he places two advils on my tongue.

“im going to fill up your mouth with water so don’t breathe.” he says opening up a water bottle and slowly pouring some in to my mouth while my head tilts upwards slightly. he watches me with concern as i swallow the water.

“please never get drunk like this ever again, you really freaked everyone out kid.” he says. i don’t respond and nod at his words.

kid, the all too familiar nickname chris gave me. it always made me feel weird when he called me this as if he was an authority figure or something.

i lay back down on his bed and close my eyes and quickly drift off to sleep. the last thing i remember from that night is him crawling in to his bed next to me and turning off his light.

“goodnight kid”

-

thank you for reading!!!

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x y/n

[shedobewritingalittle]

I Know The End

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: She meets him. They fall in love. She dies, he mourns. The cycle continues.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Angst, mildly graphic descriptions of death, grief, mentions of injury

In every universe, she dies.

It was a canon event-completely unstoppable if they wanted the multiverse to stay together.

Every Spider-Person knew this. Every time they saw a version of her at HQ, they knew not to get too attached. She'd disappear and another version would take its place, looking slightly different from the previous version of her, but her nonetheless.

In every universe, she also fell in love with Miguel O'Hara.

It was a canon event and Miguel had to just let it happen, no matter how much it hurt him.

Every time she'd swing into his life, he had to let the cards fall where they may, even if he knew exactly where they led to.

In one universe, she had a baby who looked just like the two of them. She balanced being a mom and being Spider-Woman almost effortlessly. Miguel, once again, was able to play dad, was able to pretend like this could be his life. He would spend the night in her universe, sleeping with her in the bed, helping her with the midnight diaper changes and three a.m. feedings. Hell, he had even thought about marrying her, wanting so bad to ignore the canon, wanting to find a way that he can have his cake and eat it too.

She had gotten impaled on some rebar after saving a kid from Green Goblin and the others had got there too late to do anything about it. Peter B. Parker had watched as Miguel lifted her off of it, her blood staining his suit. He could hear as his friend whispered something to her over and over in Spanish. Peter had kept his distance, knowing that Miguel needed this moment. Her daughter-the one that had his hair and her eyes-went to live with her mother's family in California.

In another, she was a nurse. She helped save lives off and on the clock. She would tend to the other Spider-People's wounds, stitching them up when needed, giving IV's and injections and millions other things. They had spent so many nights together in his room post-mission where she’d take care of him. Her lip drawn between her teeth as she carefully focused on her work. As soon as she was done, as soon as she came out of that almost trance-like state, his lips would be on her skin, wanting to repay her. Medical supplies would be tossed to the floor, injuries ignored.

She had gotten taken out by her universe's Doc Ock. Miguel had personally hunted him down after that, unable to control his rage. Peter B. and Hobie had to drag him off of the guy.

In one, she had been married to someone else, but that hadn't stopped the relationship from forming. She'd slip away from her universe and into Miguel's, and in between helping take down anomalies, she'd be in his bed. She had been sick the whole time and every time she used her powers she had gotten worse. They could all see it-the gradual decline even if she wouldn’t tell them outright, but Miguel knew. He wouldn't let her do missions anymore, but she still continued to be Spider-Woman in her universe. She died in her sleep beside the man she was married to, but not the one she loved. Miguel had attended the funeral, but had kept his distance. He had waited and watched as she had been buried. He had been the last one to leave the cemetery that day.

There were versions of her that were artists, models, chefs, actresses, teachers, but they were all her. And they all fell in love with him, one after another. No one could stop it, no one could prevent it. It was just fate.

She meets him. They fall in love. He mourns. And then the cycle continues.

The Y/N they had right now, she has lasted longer than all of the others. She had been with them for a few years now, which has felt like a lifetime compared to the time they got with the rest of them. That had only made them all uneasy. Every mission, every missed visit to HQ, they all thought that was going to be it, but then she'd show up, a smile on her face and jokes spilling out of her mouth without a second thought . Miguel was constantly checking in on her, which was something she teased him about.

"I guess you really do like me, eh bug boy?"

God, he did.

It was terrifying how attached to her he was, how his whole demeanor seemed to change as soon as she enters a room. His stoicism and broodiness completely melts away, no instead he gives her a version of himself that no one else sees (save for maybe Mayday-she's a baby, so how could he be a dick to her?). At first, Jess and Peter B. used to tease him about it, but as Y/N died over and over, the teasing came to an end. Now all they could offer was sad smiles when Miguel talked about her.

He was selfish-he wished he could keep her at HQ forever. Miguel wanted to ignore the canon and just hold onto her as long as he could, keeping her all to himself. Who cares if the multiverse falls apart? He’d have her, he’d have a life with her. That’s all he needed, isn’t it?

But he’d never go against the canon.

-

"I know, you know. How this ends. That we are doomed to repeat this over and over." She announces one right, moonlight-or at least what she thinks is moonlight-streaming in through the gaps of his curtains, his room smelling like the two of them-a mixture of her perfume, his cologne, sweat, and sex. Her finger absentmindedly traces a mark she’d had left on his skin moments ago. He sits up in bed, looking at her with wide eyes. His mind was racing. Had someone told her? Had he somehow let it slip? How did she know?

"Y-You do? Mierda. Why didn't you say anything?" He questions, his brows furrowed together. She shrugs, tucking an arm behind her head as she looks at him, as if it wasn't a big deal that she knew about her own coming demise.

"What's the point, cariño? I die, I come back, this starts all over again. Why spoil the time I get with you?" She responds, her eyes focused on him, "It's me and you, always."

"It's me and you, always."

She said it so nonchalantly, as if a piece of him doesn't die with every version of her that does. As if he doesn’t meticulously check for signs of the next version of her after she disappears from his life. As if it doesn’t feel like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders when she starts to don her black and pink Spider suit, because he knows he’ll be with her soon. He lets his eyes shut for a moment as her fingers trace a scar on his shoulder. He thinks about what he should say, about if he should be upset that she knew and didn't tell him. But it's Y/N, and he can't bring himself to be mad at her.

"How long have you known?" Miguel asks, his eyes opening and landing on her. In the moonlight, he could see that her neck and chest were littered with marks-bruising from sucking at her skin, angry red lines from where he had dragged his fangs against her, puncture marks from biting her. They had already started to heal, just like the matching marks on his skin had started to.

"I think we all know-at least I did. We get bits and pieces of it, of you mainly. Of a life with you. I think for the most part, we all think it's a dream-that you're just a hot guy in a dream and then we meet you." Y/N explains, her gaze turning soft as the corners of her mouth turn upward. He keeps himself from rolling his eyes at her little “hot” compliment, his mind still reeling.

The rest is left unsaid-the fact that she can see all the different ways she has met her end, how she knows how it feels to die. The feeling of falling on that rebar, the sickening snap of her neck, her being strangled by a Doc Ock’s tentacle, the crushing feeling of a building falling on top of her, choking on her own blood, the feeling of her organs spilling out-

Sometimes she’ll reach down and expect to feel metal sticking out of her, tearing her apart.

"And you're-You're okay with that?" Miguel's eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at her. Her eyes were on him, but she wasn’t there, not fully. He wished he could take a peak inside of her mind, wanting-no, needing to know how much she could remember. He studies her face in the moonlight, trying to read her, trying to understand how she could be so…okay with all of this.

"I still get a forever with you, don't I? I still get to live a life with you, even if it's just bits and pieces." Her voice is soft as her smile starts to grow ever so slightly, "And I'd take that any day."

His lips are suddenly against hers once more, his hand cupping her cheek. She’s a little surprised, but returns it eagerly, her hand slipping into his locks, holding him to her. Y/N knows that Miguel isn’t good at expressing his feelings, that talking about his feelings is like pulling teeth for him. She also knows what the kiss means, what he wants to say. Each kiss, each bite, each thrust-she can decipher them all.

I wish we had more time.

I wish it wasn’t like this.

I want this, with you, forever.

This isn’t enough.

I can’t keep watching you die over and over.

I need you.

It’s me and you always.

-

This Y/N still meets her end, just like the dozens of others before her.

When she goes this time, she’s in his arms, crimson spilling out of her, covering both of them. She’s looking up at him, tears in her eyes from the pain as she gives him a small, pained smile.

“Don’t be sad, pendejo. I’ll see you again, yeah?” She says hoarsely, blood covering her lips. He leans forward, pressing his lips to her forehead. He stays there a moment, his eyes shut. When he pulls away, there’s tears streaming down her face, but she is still trying to smile at him, trying to tease him. Even like this, she’s still trying to make him feel better. So Miguel tries to smile back at her, but he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.

“Yeah. You’ll see me again.” He murmurs, wiping away her tears. It’s more like he’s reminding himself rather than agreeing with her. He swallows the lump in his throat, “It’s you and me.”

“It’s you and me.” Y/N manages to get out, her breathing more ragged. Her hand moves to rest on top of his, where’s he’s putting pressure on her wound even though they both know there’s no point. Her fingers intertwine with his and he holds her hand. There’s tears streaming down his face, his like there is every time he watches her dies.

Miguel just sits there, holding her hand long after her body stills, her head laying on his chest. He knows eventually he will have to get up, that he will have to take her back to her universe. For now, he just sits there with her, holding her body to his, quietly telling her all of the things that were left unsaid.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #spiderman 2099

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me 2.0 | Sneak Peak

So here's just a little sneak peak of my re write of Don't Blame Me. I've been wanting to revisit this for a while. I will post the rest of it in one go probably on Ao3 for ease but here's just a little peak of some of the extended stuff I'm doing. This is probably chapter 1 or 2. I haven't decided the order yet. It is 100% new material and I hope it gives a good example of what the rest of the re write is gonna be. Hope you enjoy 💕

Word Count: 2k

Nina stared up at the ceiling. It was ugly. Grayish plaster smeared across to form a minuscule mountain range. She was angry at them with their manmade topography. She wanted to climb up and scrape them smooth. She wanted to destroy something without consequence. 

The bed in the safe house was too hard and the covers were too thin. Made it impossible to sleep and yet she’d spent the past three days laying in it. She missed the warm comfort of her old bed, layers of wool blankets and a fluffy down mattress. She missed the feathers that poked her in the middle of the night. 

Kyle, sat guard by the door - rifle in hand. The curtains always drawn close. She’d long lost track of time, only gauging when offered food. Shopping bags laid scattered across the floor. Price had bought clothes, guessing her size and getting it wrong most of the time. She’d finally asked for something warm and big. 

He’d come back with a large navy sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. They were nice and soft and the sweatshirt was large enough she could tuck her knees inside of it and pull her hands into the sleeves. A small comfort. 

She didn’t like it here but she wasn’t given a choice. Hunted like an animal across countries and continents. All because of her father. Some people may be attached together with red string but he was the rope around her neck. 

The house somehow felt more sterile than the hospital they had her at initially. She didn’t like it there either with doctors and nurses constantly prodding her. Taking blood for various tests, physical exams where she was expected to strip for strangers. Their hands were always cold. 

A week ago she hadn’t even seen another person in years and now she didn’t think any part of her had gone untouched. She’d fought and screamed every time they pulled another needle out. They’d had to sedate her after she kicked a nurse in the shoulder and almost knocked her over. Price stepped in at that point and refused to let them do any more tests or exams until she’d relaxed. She never got the chance.

She woke up to a man forcing his way into the room. Kyle dragged her out of bed and into a corner, ripping an IV out of her arm. Price had met the man at the threshold. The intruder got one good hit in before Price slammed his head into the door. 

Her stomach flipped, hearing his skull crack. Death wasn’t an unfamiliar face but she ached having seen him so often recently. How many just in the past week? She’d lost count. Blood dripped down the door, like a bug that got squished. 

Kyle was holding her arm, bandaging where the IV got ripped out.

“We’re moving her.” Price said. “Now!”

Kyle scooped her up easily, carrying her bridal style, down the halls and stairs of the hospital. 

“Kate, I need a safe house.” Price barked into a radio. Nina clung to Kyle, letting herself get carried away once again. It had been futile to fight previously so she allowed it now. She also didn’t want to complain about not walking across the parking deck barefoot. 

Price drove while Kyle sat in the back, having her lay down on the seats next to him. She stayed quiet, she was good at that. Quiet and surviving. They drove what felt like hours around London in order to lose any possible tails. Eventually Price pulled into an underground parking deck and they switched cars. 

The Russian was driving this time, she believed his name was Nik. A large white utility van. She sat with her back against the side. Her feet were cold. Kyle and Price flanked her. She felt like she should be wearing a black bag over her head. 

It was dark when they got to the safe house. A coat was thrown over her head and she was kept bent over as they led her inside. Lights off until the blinds could be pulled shut. 

“You should be safe here. Kyle will keep watch over ya,” Price assured, holding her shoulders. She was older than he was when they last saw each other. A stranger but the only person on Earth who seemed to remember her name.  A friend of her father’s, his sergeant. He’d stop by their on base house often enough to be a familiar face. He got her a birthday gift once or twice. He’d had dinner with her family. She felt ashamed to say she hadn’t thought about him in years yet there he was at the edge of the world to hold her on the helicopter ride home. “How are you feeling Nina?”

“I’m okay.” What else was there to say? It felt like the ground was constantly collapsing under her and she was treading ice water. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s get the bedroom set up for you.” He rubbed her back as he led her upstairs. She waited in the hall as he checked over the room and pulled the blinds shut. She was glad they left her alone to sleep, even if one of them was always outside the cracked open door. She’d barely left the bed since. Kyle had moved a chair in at one point.

“Just keeping you company.” He smiled. She imagined the true reason was so he could stop her if she tried to kill herself. There was a reason she had to ask for any pain medication, there were no knives in the kitchen and the sweatpants came without strings. Truthfully she didn’t have the motivation for all that. 

She thought about taking another shower or maybe a bath. Hot water on demand was another comfort. Something she’d missed. 

She got up wordlessly and walked into the ensuite bathroom. Bottles, jars and tubes also scattered across the counter. Kyle had explained what it all did. Moisturiser, cleanser, masks and other words she didn’t remember. She slathered it all on anyway. It did make her skin feel less tight. If it made a physical difference, she wouldn’t know. The mirror was gone. 

Kyle had taken it off the wall the day before. She’d needed his help turning on the water. Her reflection frightened her. She knew she was older, a woman of twenty five. She still expected to see a little girl staring back at her. In a way there was, how small she looked. How starved she looked. She didn’t like her skin or hair or her face at all really. Price had remarked how much she looked like her mother. She couldn’t even hold her face in her mind. She knew that she never looked sick like this. As tattered and forgotten. 

She’d hung a towel over the edges of the mirror. Kyle took it down and she put it back up. He seemed to understand and it was laid in the hallway facing the wall the next morning. 

She filled the tub with steaming water and squirted some soap into it. She wasn’t allowed to lock the door so she left it cracked to let the steam out. She sunk down till her nose barely scraped the water’s edge. She soaked until the bubbles all popped and disappeared and her skin was pruned. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“The captain is going to be back soon with food,” Kyle broke the hours-long silence. He was extraordinarily kind to her despite having not said more than a couple words to him over the past days. “He asked if there’s anything else you want or need.”

“I’m okay,” she said. She didn’t know what she needed or wanted. Everything seemed like a distant dream, half real. She thought about the things she ate as a child and wondered what was real and what was some elaborate coping daydream. It all just seemed out of her grasp. 

“…Nina?” He asked. It still felt weird to hear people say her name aloud. It was something she had kept like a secret for so long. “Do you like cake?”

She could hear the smile in his voice. She didn’t remember the last time she had cake. Her 11th birthday maybe. 

“I can have Price pick some up for you. I’d say you deserve it.”

“I’d like that…thank you, Kyle.”

“I’ll text him.”

Price arrived a little less than an hour later. She was back in bed, wearing the same sweatshirt and pants. Kyle had shown her how to work the telly. There was nothing familiar on. 

Price had given up on getting her to eat anywhere but her bed, bringing up the food with a tray. 

“Thank you,” She said as he laid a plate of lamb, rice and veggies in front of her. The three of them ate in silence as she periodically flipped through the channels on the telly. 

“What day is it?” she asked as another holiday ad came on. 

“December sixteenth,” Kyle answered around a bite of lamb. 

She didn’t realise Christmas was so close. She changed the channel again, wanting to avoid any possibility of raising hope. 

“Gaz, take the dishes downstairs. I need to talk to Nina.” Price said as they finished eating. She thanked Kyle as he took her plate and pulled her knees to her chest. 

Price had a serious look on his face, more serious than usual. 

“We have to move you again.” He said. She nodded, chewing on the idea of having to leave again.

“Why?”

“My contact in M16 believes there’s a leak and you’re at risk again. They shouldn’t have known what hospital you were in.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “These men are dangerous, Nina. They believe you know where your father is.”

“I don’t.”

“I know you don’t, love. We’re working on tracking them down but until we do you need to be kept safe. You’re going to the United States tomorrow afternoon.”

“The United States? Why all the way there?”

“It’ll be easier to hide you. You’ll be under cover, new name, travelling with one of my mine.”

“Kyle?”

“No, unfortunately I need him here.”

“Then who?” She wasn’t sure if she trusted anyone else. She wasn’t even sure if she could trust Price. 

“His name is John.”

“Your name is John.”

“Different John.” He chuckled. “MacTavish. A scot. He’ll look after you.” He patted her shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Price?”

“Yes, love?”

“Will I ever be safe?”

He laid his hands on her shoulders and got eye level with her. 

“I will make you safe.” He said firmly, like he believed it to be true. “Try to get some sleep. Lots to brief on tomorrow.”

The idea of having to move again twisted her stomach. More helicopters? More high speed chases down mountain roads? More bullets whizzing by? Her hands were shaking already. She pulled her arms into her sweatshirt and scratched at them. Every red line was a release of tension in her body. Another strange man who’s side she would be tucked into. She knew Price wouldn’t put her with someone who would hurt her, at least not knowingly. 

There was a knock on the door.

“Nina? Can I come in?” Kyle asked. 

“Uh…yeah…you can.” She pushed her arms back through her sleeves. He was smiling as he came in. A pastry box and fork in hand. 

“Price says you need protein but cake has eggs so I think it counts.” He handed her the box. She laid it in her lap and opened it. It was a small chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and cadbury flakes on top. Her mouth watered. She wanted to feel the sugar grit against her teeth. 

“Thank you, Kyle.” She said, holding the box close. There was a time when she was younger and she used to close her eyes and imagine a great big party with cake and balloons and streamers and friends and her family. She held onto that fantasy for a long time. She hoped the cake tasted as good as it did in her head. 

“Eat it all if you want but don’t get sick, yeah?” He handed her the fork before going to leave. “Soap’s a decent bloke. He’ll take care of you.”

What a stupid nickname, she thought as she stabbed her fork into the centre of the cake and dug out a chunk. 

It was better than she imagined. 

I would also like to shout out some of the people who've supported this story over the past year. There are more than I could ever list (I'm adding as I remember usernames) but thank you all so much

@macravishedbymactavish @queen-ilmaree @argella1300 @purplemarmar @devcica @avidreadee123 @water-bearz @glitterypirateduck @murdersheghostwrote @sea--biscuit @coolmaybelateruniverse @pssytrux @mykneeshurt @yearningforsappho @celestiialspheres @fleetwoodmoth

I appreciate more than y'all could ever know 💕

#soap x Nina #Don't Blame Me 2.0 #Don't Blame Me

[nexusnyx]

* . WIPs . *

→ KOFI | AO3 | COMMISSION.ೃ࿐

→ MAIL | DISCORD GC | MAIN MASTERLIST .ೃ࿐

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ✒️ NYX WORKS IN PROGRESS MASTERLIST  .ೃ࿐

📍 Notices!

→ I do not allow any translations of my work. I also do not allow redistribution onto other platforms, even if they’re credited. My only other account is my AO3 adarasink.

→ Reblogs & comments are way more appreciated than likes. Remember that feedback is a writer’s biggest motivation. Please interact with my stories!

✒️ WIP .ೃ࿐ ㅤㅤAll organized in alphabetical order of the characters. Updated as I post & plan new stories.

ㅤㅤ▹ TMS Chapter IV: h.o.l.l.a.n.d 40s!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader | Summary: Each night Bucky gets some sleep, which is not often, he dreams of two things for certain: The first, of course, it’s you. The calm before the storm. The second, and this was as weird as everything else, was falling. He hated every second of it and hated the first second he woke up the most—when he felt that weird sense of deja vú.

ㅤㅤ▹ i'll tell you my sins Priest!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader | Summary: Finding you was a gracious fate. A blessing, if you will. Bucky's learned a lot in the months he's been with you, but your dark parts and secrets are far from over. He's eager to shed a light on each one of them, claiming all of you for him. Only for him.

ㅤㅤ▹ All I Wanted (Series) Eddie Munson x F!Reader x Steve Harrington | SUMMARY: It was a tale as old as time. A girl liked a boy, who for his turn liked another boy, who happened to like both of them. Maybe not such a common tale, but it got weirder: The three of them in a strange town, and loving one another might not be the strangest thing happening, after all. Steve and Eddie discover that in trying to hide their love for one another, they only walked deeper into it, and in the process, dragged you along with them.

ㅤㅤ▹ i'm starving, darling pre!outbreak Joel Miller x f!Reader | Summary: Once he gets a taste of you, it changes him. Joel always thought of himself as someone who is not for romance, but it seems all he needed was the right awakening. He finds himself wanting to do the most, to say the most. He wants to earn his Sunshine. (Sequel to Miss Sunshine, but it can be read as a stand alone).

ㅤㅤ▹ stand by me Joel Miller x F!Reader | Summary: In Jacksonville, Joel agrees to give the three of you a few days to rest before going. On the very first day, you notice — his panic. The attacks. You decide to throw all your worries out of the window and try to give him the comfort he deserves. Even if it costs you everything. In the end, both you and Joel needed the cards on the table, and a proper human touch laced in affection and care only.

ㅤㅤ▹ JTK Chapter II: the hero's shoulders Joel Miller x F!Reader | Summary: The cabin becomes their quiet place. A hideout for more than just the body. For you, watching Ellie and Joel is like witnessing something worth knowing. On the other hand, for them, you're blinding and vibrant current of light, and heat—they're drawn. You're hypnotized. Unfortunately, life knocks on the door.

ㅤㅤ▹ fantasies unwind Shuri Udaku x F!Reader | Summary: All of your thoughts about Princess Shuri are born from a single look — that's the source of your stream. Dreams become a river, and your desire flows into a waterfall. When Shuri discovers the immensity of your attraction, she gives you things you could have never dreamt about.

ㅤㅤ▹short and sweeter (sequel to this)

Shuri Udaku x Dora Milaje!Reader | Summary: If Shuri is incapable of making you more malleable, more careful with your own body, the best she can do is protect you. Deciding to add some special gadgets to your uniform, Shuri puts you both in a tight position.

#usernexusnyx #— nyx works in progress .ೃ࿐ #masterlist #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri udaku x yn #shuri udaku x reader

[jojolymes]

𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎; twenty-five

࿔*:･ﾟ xxv.  

next: IV. 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 |  table of contents

THERE WAS no time to think for Gyro and Johnny after they had seen your face. No time to think back on all the fleeting touches or the drawn-out gazes. No time to remember the way your eyes would sparkle when your hat failed to block out the sun from your eyes and when the bandana that hid your face crinkled with your smile. How soft your skin always was or how now and then your voice didn't sound very deep. The way you would worry and worry until tears dripped down your face and your hands curled into fists and your brow furrowed and...

"You have to be kidding!" screeched Gyro as he watched your limp body get pulled away by Diego and the dinosaurs below him and Johnny grew closer. Well, there was no time for thinking back on all the signs that you weren't a man because now you were surrounded by dinosaurs and Diego had grabbed hold of the scruff of your shirt once more.

"How much do you think we'll last until we turn into dinosaurs?" Gyro asked Johnny who had forcefully ripped his eyes off of you. Johnny's lip was tucked tightly between his teeth, looking far more distraught about the fact that you were a woman than Gyro had expected. Johnny had been fawned over by women in his 'Joekid' days so it made no sense, at least to Gyro.

"We won't last! We probably won't even last three minutes! From what happened with the bear, there's no more time!" Johnny cried as he pressed himself up against the rock face, hoping that Diego wouldn't be able to spot him. Gyro grimaced while the skin between his eyes and his mouth cracked open— there had to be some way to save you and get the corpse part at the same time, but how?

Gyro's brow furrowed at his thoughts. How could he even think of you right now? You had lied to him and Johnny for almost an entire month— about who you were, about your "sister", hell, even about the supposed engagement between you and Diego (which still bothered him). All the things he said when you both fought, in hindsight, were now very justified. The last thing Gyro would do was try and save some woman who had lied to him all these weeks. The woman who had gotten on his nerves from the beginning. The woman who always needed saving. The woman that made his heart pound with anger. The woman—

"I...thought you guys were going to let him kill me. I wouldn't put it past either of you, though. I'm sure I've been a pain."

Gyro felt his mouth run dry, the cracking only growing worse. You had been a pain. A terrible pain. One that had made his heart thrum with joy whenever you joked around with him. One that made him grin whenever you'd yell at him for being annoying. One whose glare had softened when he tended to your wounds. One who pushed aside the mutual grudge you both had for each other to make sure his sickness wouldn't worsen. One who had looked at him and Johnny with those tear-filled eyes, asking them to save you with just one simple look. You were a thorn in Gyro's side, yet he couldn't imagine a moment without you there.

It wasn't even like he was any better: hiding away his past from you and Johnny and going by his alias instead of his actual name. He couldn't leave you in Diego's clutches by that sort of rationalization. Gyro gripped the steel ball in his holster, eyes narrowing as the dinosaur villagers cawed and screamed shrilly. He froze in place, looking for a way to get to the corpse part. If they got there at least, then they'd fight off the dinosaur infection and be able to save you. Without it, there would be no possibility of saving you unless Diego turned him and Johnny back into humans after (and Gyro knew that wouldn't happen).

"What do we do? This situation..." Gyro trailed off as Johnny froze up against the rock face, "should we cut off your left arm and hand it over...maybe beg for our lives? Or can we defeat Diego quickly and defeat the root cause within three minutes?" Gyro scanned the horizon for a way to get over futilely; before he knew it, the cries of the smaller dinosaurs echoed out from above him and Johnny.

"Diego unleashed more of those mice!" yelled Johnny as Gyro looked over at him and grimaced. Saving you and the corpse part seemed like it was going to be difficult, if not impossible. Gyro watched the dinosaurs closely as they jumped back and forth across the rock cliff, cawing and screeching at each other. They were communicating. Gyro sucked a breath through his teeth, looking at Johnny through his peripherals.

"Don't move! Johnny, don't move no matter what! Just ignore them for now! We have to get to Speedwagon!" Gyro could see you laying at Diego's feet, arm hanging off the cliff side. And as much as Gyro hated it, the enhanced vision from the dinosaur disease had allowed him to watch the skin of your arm begin to crackle. He and Johnny had far less time than Gyro previously thought. When Johnny moved beside Gyro, he had almost cursed at his companion, until he caught sight of Johnny's pained expression.

"Don't you get it?! We have their piss on us! That's what they're after! Their aim is fixed! Diego is trying to find our position using the small ones!" Gyro grit his teeth as Johnny pushed off the cliff just enough so that he could see little gray dino mice heading straight for them. There was sweat dripping down Johnny's face and Gyro could do nothing but mull over what their next course of action was.

"We need to fight or we'll be killed! We need to finish them now!"

"No, Johnny. There are a few more things we have to do," Gyro began, looking over at the mountain right beneath the Big Dipper, "what we need to accomplish in the next three minutes is to get to the Holy Corpse that's across that cliff and save Speedwagon while we're at it!" Johnny frowned deeply, seeming conflicted over the thought of saving you. Gyro had half a mind to ask why but didn't bother and got closer to Johnny, grabbing his forearm.

"The progression of your wounds is getting slower and the scales on your left arm are fading away! Speedwagon and I are the only ones turning into dinosaurs—" Johnny's face dropped unbeknownst to Gyro, "— it must be because you have the corpse part in your arm! The holy power of the corpse is fighting the infection! If we get the next corpse part on that rocky hill, then we can negate me and Speedwagon's infection, too!" Before Johnny could utter a response, the dino mice jumped onto them, screaming deafeningly.

"They found us, Gyro!" Johnny yelled as Diego caught sight of them, cawing before leaping towards them as well. Your body remained on the cliffside, nails sharpening into claws. Johnny, in all honesty, wasn't sure if he wanted to take the chance to come to save you. You were just laying there and maybe if he tried hard enough, he could distract Diego so that Gyro could grab you. But he was frozen, stuck in the conflicting thoughts that plagued his mind.

If Johnny were asked to explain these thoughts, it would be hard to do so in words. He could, however, assume that the hesitation he felt had something to do with the accident that caused him to become paraplegic. Yes, it must have been because of then that the desire to save you caused him this much trouble. He knew if he tried hard enough, he would be able to explain that his era as "Joekid" and his fall from stardom was the root cause.

You were a woman, and like every woman he had grown close to (whether it be in terms of dating them or the frequent flings he had) had ultimately ditched him after he lost the use of his legs. Maybe it was because you were so dear to him that the idea of you leaving him like all the others hurt him far worse. And if he pushed past the fact that you were a woman, maybe he would know that it was because of all the people he was close to ditching him in an instant. After all, God had taken the wrong son.

"I said to ignore them... Johnny, face this way," Gyro stated, snapping Johnny back to the present. Despite the dinosaurs now being mere moments away from landing on them, Johnny looked, finding a spot between two dinosaurs that was just big enough for them to slip through. Yet, it made no sense to Johnny. That is, until Gyro grabbed the back of his shirt, getting up into a crouch.

"See?! Now! There's an opening to the canyon! Here we go! Jump off, Johnny!"

"What?!"

"Run! Go, Johnny! Go, go, go!"

"Holy shit!" It was all Johnny could say as he and Gyro leaped off the cliff, barely making it halfway across the canyon between where they had been and the mountainside across from them. Diego screeched at them from where Johnny and Gyro had been seconds earlier, sending the other dinosaurs leaping toward them. Johnny peered over his shoulder behind him, spotting Diego clambering up towards where you were before a dinosaur blocked his view, far too close for comfort.

"What are we doing? There's no way we can jump across! It's too far!" Johnny screamed as the dinosaur opened its jaws, inching closer to Johnny's head in midair. Gyro didn't respond as he pulled his steel ball from the holster, throwing it at a tree rooted in the side of the mountain. The spin of the ball made the tree tilt towards them, the bark twisting off the tree into a mock rope that Gyro grabbed onto.

"Exactly... there's no way to jump across... for them! Unless Diego is a dinosaur with wings, that is. And I don't see any of those here! Grab onto the tree bark that I shaved off with my steel ball!" Johnny didn't dwell on what Gyro said and grabbed the tree bark, as well as Gyro's legs to hold himself up as the dinosaur fell straight past him into the abyss.

Diego squealed from across the canyon, testing the cliffside himself as rocks cascaded off the side. Even as a dinosaur, he knew better than to try and jump off himself. He'd find a way somehow, his now-primitive mind knew that. For now, he'd go back to your side and make sure that you were still alive. Well, he knew you were fine but hadn't expected you to feint. Diego could only assume it was the shock of being found out as a woman.

Not that he really cared.

In all honesty, Diego had himself a bit of pride in knowing you were a woman before Johnny and Gyro. When Diego made his way back to your side, he nudged your shoulder with his head, earning a small whimper in response. He didn't bother you any further and stepped away, noticing a small dinosaur with a hat between its teeth. It froze when Diego hissed at it which he stopped upon realizing it was your hat.

The little dinosaur smelled familiar— it was a smell that he had noted on your person earlier that was starkly different than yours. Diego presumed then and there that it was the little girl you had been talking to when you all first arrived in the town. There was a twinge of guilt at seeing the girl as a dinosaur now but he knew it wasn't his fault. The man that had turned him into a dinosaur was the one at fault.

Diego stepped to the side, allowing the dinosaur to slowly make its way beside you, dropping the hat onto your hand. You must have subconsciously felt it because, in an instant, your hand had gripped tightly onto the edge of the hat. The little dinosaur, or rather, the little girl, stepped away with a squeak, rushing beside another dinosaur that had started scaling down the cliffside.

A gray figure suddenly appeared from across the canyon and suddenly, Diego knew he needed to get over there. But he couldn't leave you. Your skin was already cracking and you'd become a dinosaur eventually. If he could meet the man that had done this to him on the other cliff, maybe he could convince him to turn you back as well. Dinosaurs couldn't exactly marry each other, after all.

Diego took your shirt collar between his teeth and tentatively raised you up in the air. He had a good grip on you like this and he doubted that you would fall from his grasp. He didn't take another moment before swatting two random dinosaurs off the cliff and jumping. With quick, precise movements (and you still hanging from his mouth with his small arms steadying your frame), he pushed off the dinosaurs in midair until he landed on the other cliff.

Gyro and Johnny looked paralyzed in shock as Diego let you down at his clawed feet and took the two Corpse Eyes. Diego didn't bother listening to what Johnny had yelled and instead focused on the way his body morphed. He could feel his jaws retracting back into place as he repeated the words that were inscribed into the Corpse Eyes. Before he knew it, the gray figure he had seen was towering over him, whispering Turbo, Turbo, Turbo.

Diego could feel his humanity return to him, slowly but surely, as the eyes glowed and shone letters onto his hands. He brought them up to his face, noticing the small numbers within the letters, repeating what the figure said to him. Just as the eyes were almost touching his, pain seared through his arm, blood splattering everywhere. Johnny.

"Eat this, Diego! I won't let you have that corpse or Speedwagon!" Johnny hollered as he let eight nail bullets shoot from his fingers, not seeing the steel balls until it was too late. Johnny ducked as his bullets soared back toward him, all the while Gyro stood still in front of Diego. Gyro's face was deformed with hands and feet that had turned into claws. The look on his face was animalistic and it was then that Johnny wasn't sure if they would ever be able to save you.

You, on the other hand, weren't sure of all the things going on around you. You could just barely make out your surroundings, but at the same time, every one of your senses was heightened. You could feel the sand that you had been laying on, every little grain. There was a familiar fabric under your fingertips and the mountain air you breathed felt far more enriching than any normal breath of air.

There were blobs of color in front of you— teal and purple and baby blue and... red. There were familiar scents to each of them except for the red one. If anything, the smell of the red one was overpowering. Nauseatingly pervading the air until all you could think of was ways to make it stop. At some point, you let yourself drift off once more in hopes of letting your future-self deal with it.

The next time you awoke it was to a kick in the side that sent you rolling off the sand and onto jagged rock. There was a strong breeze that made you feel terrified— you had no idea why you felt this way until you opened your eyes to peer down at the steep drop into darkness. You shut your eyes tightly and seconds later there was a loud growl. It wasn't one like the dinosaurs you had been hearing, though, more like a cat's yowling.

Suddenly, there was a tug at your body and your senses dulled into normalcy. The spot beneath your eye burned horribly, tugging at whatever muscle was directly under your skin. Your hand flew out to grab onto something, anything, and when your fingers found themselves wrapped around something of a cable-knit fabric, you felt the burning stop. When you opened your eyes, Diego was there, smiling down at you.

"Gyro... there were two eyes that rolled towards you, right? Your eyes united with two of them! You've got them both, right?!"

"Diego," you whispered as his hand found its way onto your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. Diego's mouth opened as if to say something when Johnny screamed his name, stopping him. Diego's hand retracted and stepped away from you, smirking before jumping off the cliff, his face crackling apart. You went to sit up only for your head to ache terribly, making you lay back down.

"Speedwagon."

Your eyes landed on Johnny and Gyro who were in front of you, eyes filled with worry. You tilted her head at the sight of Gyro's right eye and you reached out, eyebrows raising as he stepped forward and allowed your hand to rest on the skin beneath his eye. His skin warmed beneath your fingertips and his hand carefully wrapped around yours. A smile spread across your face and you slowly pushed back the anxiety you had felt earlier. If Gyro hated you, he wouldn't have even approached you.

"Your eye is really weird, Gyro," you muttered as Gyro huffed with a smile, crouching down beside you. You could feel his hand wedge between your head and the rock before he helped you sit up. Johnny looked up at you and you gave him a smile which he didn't return. A somber look spread across his features and he turned away from you, fisting the sand beneath him.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier?" asked Johnny with furrowed brows as you let out a sigh. You weren't sure how you should respond. The truth wasn't all that simple but you had explained your fears to them at one point during the trip. Well, you had told Johnny about it and Gyro had apparently overheard. But how could you explain your past self without hurting them now?

"I... thought you might kill me, I guess," you mumbled weakly before brushing your hair out of your face. It wasn't until then that you noticed the hat in Johnny's grasp. His fingers were brushing over the inside embroidery with your brother's name on it. You stiffened and looked down at your lap while Gyro sighed.

"You're a weird one, Speedwagon," teased Gyro as he pulled you up with a stumble. You laughed slightly before looking over at Thunderstruck who had made her way toward them all. Your eyes widened as Valkyrie and Slow Dancer appeared as well. Gyro turned and walked over to Johnny. Despite the lowered tension, it felt like there was something amiss. Had you forgotten to say something? You weren't sure.

But you knew one thing was missing.

"Johnny, Gyro," you called, making them look at you with quizzical looks on their faces. You stepped closer to them all, stopping beside Johnny. His fingers brushed over the embroidery once more before handing it to you, blue eyes wavering as you took a deep breath. Speedwagon was a rather long name for someone to call you all the time. You smiled widely and looked at Gyro before looking back to Johnny.

"MY NAME IS (Y/N). (Y/N) SPEEDWAGON."

#palominosbr #steel ball run #sbr #jojo #jjba x reader #johnny joestar x reader #gyro zeppeli x reader #hot pants x reader #diego brando x reader

[tiredassmage]

can we hear more about in dreams, hopes to die... 👉👈 those lines are so tasty..

CHOMPING AT THE BIT, AYE AYE CAPTAIN!!!!

Would you believe me if I reveal that this snippet is from the same piece? It's obviously an overall not very good time kind of piece, so I felt a tiny bit bad about it for once and decided to throw Tyr a bone. Valkorian and Tyr's own conga line of bad times couldn't be the only thing in five years worth of dreams, I figured, lol.

Also, that very scene is where the banger In the dark, it’s easier to hide and easier to tell the truth came from, lol.

Don't get too excited though because that's... very short. And also it's mentally set to Eyelids by PVRIS, so uh. It still punches me in the face.

Eventually I'll hopefully throw him another bone and give him and Theron's time on Rishi or Yavin IV a little pass because I'd like to think Theron's at least a little right and something came up. And stars know Tyr needs a fuckin' break, good gods almighty anlkfdnafldsf. Says she who continues to put that man in Situation after Situation after Situa-

And it was very hard to stop at just the first line for that initial post because the three lines that follow it are the meat and potatoes of what is currently the opening sequence of what I hope will eventually be a coherent fic. Or at least kinda coherent. It's still a very nebulous piece and I kinda like that, so I might not really do much more setup because it seems fitting that there wouldn't be a lot of setup and transition in something like the carbonite dreams era.

And, perhaps unsurprisingly given the nature of the setup of that chapter, but a lot of these scenes flirt with the concept of death. Tyr's dangerous dedication to "finishing the job" isn't anything new to those of us who have been here a while, lol, but this is a good character study piece if you're newer to my favorite blorbo, though it's an undeniably heavy one and obviously a bit fucky and nebulous by nature.

Also, fair warning, yes I'm giving you lines, but also I am going to give you a ramble and a half about Tyr lore because this is the piece I'm stuffing some juicy tick-tock workings into because I realized it was good for that and I love my boy so much, he's so fucked up. I love him though.

Anyway, I teased, so the next three lines of that scene, as foretold beneath the cut:

At first, it’s a firing squad. Mud cakes their boots and the rain pelts heavy on worn, drawn faces.

Tyr pushes to his feet unsteadily. A flash of lighting breaks overhead, glancing off of leveled blasters and hollowed eyes.

It will end as it should: without a soul remembering his name. He’d prefer it that way.

Okay, so... this is also not necessarily a piece I intended to write, but I realized there is... almost no better place to do a deep dive into some of the things that tick inside of Tyr that maybe aren't best portrayed in dialogue alone. This also wasn't meant to be in present tense, but it didn't feel right in past, so I ended up caving and that's... been a theme of the week, I guess, lol.

This is also like. I always chuckle a bit in that scene from Visions in the Dark later where Valkorian threatens you to meet his challenge and grow stronger or die alone and unremembered because wouldn't that just be ideal for a former Cipher. Wasn't that how the story was supposed to end? He didn't ask for your bullshit, grandpa.

There's currently two other scenes I have - they're all relatively short as I try to keep with that sort of drifting feeling. But the other one that might [Large Eyes Emoji] be of... relevant interest...

What’s been done has already been done. It doesn’t matter what it was. Maybe it won’t matter to anyone else.

Because it’s going to end here and now. Such were the decrees of the Sith - of the Empire.

Absolutes.

It matters to him that he tried. This is one of the kinder ways this could go - quietly, without the fanfare of blood on his teeth and a fire in his eyes.

“For what it’s worth, sir?” Nine exhales long and slow as he closes his eyes. “I’ve always admired you… You did your best.”

Finally.

No.

More.

Running.

“But I’m not going back.” The old man’s one of the few he could ever hope to ask this final favor. “Finish this - what we started.”

The Minister of Intelligence pulls the trigger.

It’s over before Tyr feels the ground beneath him.

Also topical given the "are others concerned about their sleep schedule" tag post reblogged earlier today, lol, and the idea of chronic nightmares. That Tyr and I haven't talked about. To each other. Or the world. Possibly not with the people he cares about, either. I'm sure Theron knows nebulously that he can have some troubled sleep - you don't share a bed with someone and not notice how consistently they have trouble falling or staying asleep.

But I think the fuckiest part of the whole Castellan Restraints period for Tyr is how he doesn't want to let the old man down. The Minister is more a father figure in Tyr's eyes than his own father, quite honestly [Tyr has a... kind of non-existant relationship with his entire family, unfortunately - and it's not because he went into Intelligence], and there's absolutely a part of that dynamic that is mentor and protégé.

And it's important to me that he sees this scenario with the Minister and not Shara - at least in Chapter Two, where it first haunts his nightmares with some consistency. Because I made a conscious choice in Shara knowing as Keeper about his Restraints - not because that ever comes up in-game, but because it adds something very crunchy to their already doomed narrative. And the background to that decision is that I decided it's... the kind of silent acknowledgement that the Minister can afford to give of their more intimate relationship. It's damage control, mitigation. With a heavy heart I imagine he tells her this in private, off the record, because Nine was her Cipher. And both of them still hold him in high regard.

Nine's given a possibly unusually loose leash to pursue the SIS investigation because of the Minister and Keeper's word; Watcher Three mentions this in broad strokes when he questions you about the blackout in records.

Anyway, the point to me mentioning this is actually that Tyr makes a very conscious effort to not think about this in the midst of the Restraints causing problems. He's reluctant enough to cede that he should hold the Minister responsible for this gross violation of his privacy and trust, but he's even more reluctant to give that the woman he loves has any knowledge or hand in the process - unwittingly or, especially, wittingly. Ultimately, he stubbornly doesn't hold them responsible. It hurts less to place the blame elsewhere. And he never loses the inescapable nostalgic kick to go home in the sense of the old paradigm - him and Keeper and the Minister.

He gave them everything.

And there's something in here about his regret at not being able to say all of this respect in better words or more directly. There's that acknowledgement that there's one person he trusts to understand why this was his breaking point. And, ultimately, there's the acceptance of the likelihood that none of this is going to end well, that he's living on borrowed time stolen from fate or destiny, or hell, maybe the Force. Tyr doesn't give a whole lot to whatever higher powers might be out there - relying on them hasn't ever saved him and he doesn't expect it to.

It makes it very interesting to watch him knowingly and willingly lie about the Black Codex after he lets Ardun walk with it and promises to double for the SIS. In a way, he's committing the greatest failure and throwing away everything the Minister has fought so hard with him to maintain and keep, especially when both of them have spoken of ideals instead of goals, etc. But it's necessary. It's what's best for Tyr, mentally, at that point. And even one of the figures he loves and respects the most can't override that desperate intrinsic need to fight for himself. The old man is, after all, one of the largest advocates of it throughout his career as Nine.

And, I suppose speaking of the nostalgia for Intelligence, my favorite set of lines from the final scene so far:

She’s sobbing against his shoulder. Dust and blood stain an almost unfamiliar uniform - he hasn’t worn uniform on Dromund Kaas in months, maybe years…

Everything’s been such a blur since Intelligence was disbanded…

so YEAH. I uh. I have a lot of feelings and this is where I'm sniffling and sobbing and word vomiting them into one doc but in story format, I suppose, lol.

Also completely unrelated to this particular fic but I am. Still thinking so intently about Eight x Tyr thoughts. They're now living rent free in my head and all of this.... absolute devotion stuff... hrhrhghghghghghghghrhhg. Brain vibrates because this is obviously all related to it because of the few people who could ever possibly understand any part of this series of events and feelings, it'd be another Cipher.

Tyr really does mourn Intelligence like... ghhghg. I'm unwell about it. He gave everything to it and its success. He doesn't regret it. The SIS investigation and the following fall of Imperial Intelligence were some of the worst fucking years of his life and it's destroyed him, really. He's living in and with the ruins like a bombed out city. It destroyed his everything and he'd almost gladly let it finish the job and destroy him to finally get his retribution. And he'd just as gladly let love destroy it all and rebuild it from the rubble when he has the right person beside him. Something something doesn't realize that he doesn't want or need to continue that destruction, he just needs fucking... idk validation or something. Acceptance. Acknowledgement. And then they can work on what "okay" looks like in the aftermath. He needs to be just as responsible for someone else's "okay" to even begin figuring out what the hell it looks like for him. hOUgh anyway.

I'm fucking normal about Cipher Nine, obviously. Thanks for comin' to my TED Talk.

#answered #ch: tyr #wip ask meme #in a way lel #my poor fucking BELOVED glowstick man... #also: just. when he HAS the right people with him how fucking. like yea yea devotion that corrupts #he'd still go to the ends of the fuckin GALAXY bro but also #it's so much easier to realize. oh. maybe we'd like to live. maybe we'd like to do that together. what's that look like #happy half a month early fool's i'm never normal about tyr #crunchy cat scream react jpeg y'know #tyr needs to be told to stop. to gently but forcibly be stopped. then he might be okay. #it might start there #i'm gonna fuckin write about that too just you wait until i have free time and a solid concept that consumes my entire soul again #gripping the edge of the sink #agent on agent romance call that a healing cycle #i'm.. s- no no i was gonna say i'm sorry i'm like this but no #i love him so much ur honor this is the love ur blorbo website #oh and obligatory bitching about ask editor style yada yada stop throwing the indent weird how do i style fic readibly in ask replies hghgh

[finagled]

absent but busy

life never seems to slow down to let me catch my breath, so ive been busy trying to keep things going!

this has been a hellish year but also a spectacular one in so many ways. my dad’s death has shattered me tbh, im just not the same person i was before he left and life will never ever be the same with him gone. as somebody who already struggles with identity issues, i had a real hard time knowing how in the world i was supposed to keep going without his input and support. he always saw right through me and could point out things about me i wasnt even aware of yet, but he was always spot on, too. bouncing my ideas off of him is how i learned to human. im coming to realize i loved to succeed and experience so i could tell him and listen to how he loved to hear about it. with him gone, ive felt a sense of emptiness with everything.

im trying to hold on to what he’s taught me. he gave me so many lessons on how to be a person, a good person. he played devils advocate so id learn how to fight for what i knew to be true, and to reevaluate my stance if i couldn’t. he taught me how to treat other people, how every stranger deserves kindness. he taught me that you can be wrong, and that sometimes being wrong is a beautiful thing, because then you learn what’s right. he taught me nothing is worth sacrificing your morals.

the answer to where to find this person now is that now, i have to be this person. the only way for those things about him to live on is if i perpetuate them in my own life. im trying so hard to do this. its not going easy. im told over and over again that im smart, that i work hard, that im good with people, and yet my success has not materialized no matter what i’ve done to secure it. i think, if i just had mental health care and meds, if i could just see a doctor, then id be so great. but i can’t think like that. whether that’s true or not and that’s the only thing in the way between me and living like i feel like im meant to, it doesn’t matter. trying to get government assistance, at least in this state, feels impossible. i dont have the energy to keep hoping they’re going to help. im frustrated to come to the conclusion that i am going to have to metaphorically “pick myself up by the bootstraps” and find a way to push forward in the meantime.

i know im intelligent and have skills that can genuinely and directly help people, because ive done it before. its taken a really long time to have confidence in myself about anything. but i need to start, and then do something with it, because im wasting time waiting for help to arrive.

this is a big ol ramble but it feels good to have the energy to write stuff up. vari and i have been working real hard this past year trying to get the house and our lives set up in a way that will set us both up for success. we’re slowly getting a handle on chores and bills, and our mental health is improving. im slowly pulling all the tangled yarn apart in my brain and getting things sorted.

they took me off adderall and onto strattera, which i actually dont mind. ive heard the medication can precipitate manic episodes in bipolar individuals though, so i wonder if i like it because of that. im depressed so often and its been so long since hypomania, that i really done mind when i wake up with the excess energy and vigor. it doesnt feel extreme like hypomania, more like just having gusto for the day. ill have to keep an eye on it more since its only been about three weeks, but im grateful i havent lost much progress from getting off adderall. the side effects aren’t nearly as powerful either, which is nice.

so im trying. i have too many people i should be getting back to with messages so if youre one of them, im sorry. theres a million things going on and only so much energy each day, but ive drawn up some routines that i hope will encourage me to do more stuff throughout the day other than just chores and sims ;)

thanks to anyone for reading :3

#radcurio

[shhh-no-ones-home]

heavy cross to bear* matt Murdock x reader

+++++++++ Request @juniebugg: reader and Matt are in a very serious relationship (could be married) but then when reader actually sees Elektra, whom she already knew about but has never seen because she was "dead," she gets really insecure and tells matt that he deserves better or something and he reassures her. Angst and smut"

hopefully its not too ooc this is my first MM smut so i hope you like! and thanks again for the request!!

* - you asked for smut and that really is all this is lol, little bit of story. 

Song: wasted time by skid row

tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg

+++++++++

i sat at the table sipping coffee and thinking. it was almost nine at night and i knew i should be getting ready for bed but my body wasn't quite ready to move yet. when matt disappeared into our bedroom i figured he'd be changing into daredevil for the millionth time but when he emerged in his pajamas i was a little surprised. and then it hit me. maybe he knew. hell, he always knew.

but maybe it was just that something was off, that i needed him to say it again, to stay with me and make sure i knew. but then there was her. she had showed up out of nowhere and took me off guard more than anything else up until now. one more doubt at the forefront of my mind. that i didnt believe him when he said he loved me despite being married for a year, despite having dated for three before hand, and despite everything he has done to keep me safe. because he loved her first and it felt like the biggest lie ive ever been told. even after a couple days of sitting on it and hoping it would go away. still it was there. in the back of my mind:

"matt i dont know if i can do this anymore."

his head tilted to the side and he looked confused.

"do what?"

he asked almost worried, moving slowly to the table and sitting.

"this, us. i just- you deserve so much more, so much better than- well, than me."

he was quick to scoot his chair closer to my own, his hand coming to rest on mine.

"hey, dont even say that. what would make you think i would want anyone but you?"

now he absolutely sounded worried.

"i saw her matt."

"saw who?"

i shook my head.

"that woman, your ex. you said she was gone."

"elektra?"

he sounded a little broken.

"shes something else ill give her that much. i see why you like her."

he swallowed hard.

"elektra is dead."

i shook my head.

"then why was she here? looking for you. saying your name with such... god i dont even know how to explain it. matthew."

i repeated it exactly as she had said it and it felt wrong. like i was acting. saying someone elses emotions and intentions. they were no longer mine. or at least it seemed like it. There was a long silence and I just stared at him.

"She was here?"

There was hope in his voice and I figured that was it. It made me angrier than it probably should've and my only response was to stand and walk away. I got half way across the living room before he caught my arm.

"Y/n, that doesn't matter. I-"

He swallowed hard and I tried to study his face.

"You mean more to me than anything. Yes I love, loved, her but I married you. I chose you. I want nothing more than to be with you. For better or for worse remember?"

He bargained and I sighed heavily.

"How can I be sure you mean that? What if she comes back? again."

He shook his head, taking both my hands in his and stepping closer to me.

"Let me prove it to you. If she really is back then it doesn't matter. I'm with you, I love you, and I'll always chose you."

I closed my eyes, feeling him get closer and closer until his forehead was against my own.

"We belong together."

He whispered before kissing me gently.

"I only want you."

He kept just as quiet, kissing next to my mouth once, then twice, making his way across my cheek and to my jaw.

"Matt."

I breathed out and he paused. I licked my lips lightly before opening my eyes and looking at him. He really did seem like he meant it. He was trying so hard to keep it together.

"I can't lose you."

He sounded so broken.

"Do it."

He drew his brows and I brought my hand up to touch his face gently. We were still so close I could feel his breath fanning my neck.

"Show me you mean it."

I said softly and his Expression changed.

"I love you so much."

He said before kissing me harshly, releasing my hands and pressing his fingertips into my hips. I hummed against him as he walked us backwards. We stumbled along as he pulled my shirt up, tossing it to the floor.

"Matt."

I moaned, pulling his shirt up next. It was gone in a second and he was back, kissing me and moving quickly to get my pants down. His hands roamed my body just as much as mine roamed his. I traced my fingers slowly up his torso, grazing over his scars before wrapping my arms around his neck. I gasped when he picked me up. There was a soft laugh that escaped him and I was relieved to see him smile even if it was just a second. He knew it would take some convincing and he was right. I needed to know he meant it. That Elektra wasn't gonna be a problem.

"I need you."

He whispered again, laying me gently on the bed and situating himself between my legs.

"I need you to know how much I mean it."

He kissed my jaw slowly, then down my neck and across my collar bone.

"Prove it."

I challenged, my breath hitching in my throat as he ripped my bra open from the front, his lips grazing my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He hummed against me, his finger tips down my torso and into my panties.

"Matt."

I moaned, dropping my head back as he ran his finger up me and against my clit. i closed my eyes, pushing my head back into the bed as he stroked me, kissing his way back up to my exposed neck.

"i love you."

he repeated against the heat of my skin. when he resituated i could feel how hard he was already.

"i need you."

i breathed out, pressing my hips up into him as he continued to finger me.

"matt."

i whined, him removing his hand long enough to pull my panties down. i looked up to him with lust blown eyes, watching him intently as he got rid of his boxers.

"youre still okay with this?"

he asked and i nodded quickly, pulling his face to mine and kissing him deeply.

"please."

i moaned, inhaling deeply before he kissed me again, pushing his hips into mine. my breath caught in my throat as he pushed all the way into me, catching my bottom lip between his teeth as my mouth hung open.

"i wanna hear you."

he said softly.

"feel you."

he moaned against my shoulder, dropping his head to the crook of my neck as he placed his large palm over my heart. it was already banging at my rib cage begging to be let out but i could have swore it did when he started moving. he pulled out of me slowly before slamming back into me and i moaned so loudly i was surprised at myself. and then he did it again and again, getting a good rhythm. it was long, and hard. nothing like our nights prior, even on his worst of days when he's frustrated and in need of release. no this was different. purposeful.

"matt."

i held onto him for dear life, pressing my fingertips into his shoulder blades as he continued to pound into me in long drawn out strokes.

"tell me. tell me what you want."

he grunted out, trying to sound as steady as possible.

"i want you. god i only want you!"

i cried out as he thrusted upward harshly. then he did it again and i saw stars, my mouth falling open as i moaned.

"thats my girl."

he praised, trailing his hand down my torso and pressing his finger in circles against my clit.

"youre almost there."

he coaxed, building me up. i could feel the tightness building, pressing my hips up to meet him as he kept his pace.

"im so close."

i panted, pressing my finger tips harder into his bicep as i gripped onto him.

"do it, do it for me, let go."

he said softly and i snapped. my orgasm racked through my body and my vision went blurry. i was breathing hard as he rode out my high, still chasing his own.

"im almost there."

he said, squeezing his eyes shut. he moved to pull out but i wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

"y/n?"

he asked surprised and i leaned up to kiss him.

"just do it."

i said, pressing a hard kiss to his neck. he kept going, knuckles going white against the bedsheets as he came in me with a loud groan.

"oh my god."

he panted, slowing his thrusts.

"i love you oh my god."

he said, dropping to his forearms, trying not to put his full weight on top of me. my legs were still wrapped tightly around his torso as we both calmed down.

"i love you too matty."

i said softly, feeling him nuzzle his nose against my neck. it made me giggle a little bit and i could feel him smiling against my skin before kissing it gently.

"you have no idea how relieved i am to hear that. youre the only one for me. always will be."

i sighed softly in content, kissing his forehead and dropping my legs.

"im sorry i doubted you. i just. i need a reminder every once in a while i guess."

he kissed my chest before pulling out of me and dropping to the bed beside me.

"i will give you as many reminders as you need, as long as we both shall live."

he said, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"thank you matt. thank you for everything. especially knocking some sense into me."

he raised a brow, a half smirk on his face and i immediately wondered what was going through that mind of his.

"after tonight sense might not be the only thing i knocked into you."

i couldnt help but laugh, him matching it as i rolled onto his chest.

"i know you want nothing more than to tell the father we're finally starting that catholic family with lots and lots of beautiful babies but i still have my iud."

he let out a short laugh sigh before i kissed him quickly.

"but that doesnt mean i couldnt be persuaded into getting it taken out."

he raised an intrigued brow.

"oh?"

i laughed lightly.

"ill think about it. right now i just wanna live in this moment with you."

i said the last bit through a yawn, resting my head against his chest and hearing his heartbeat.

"i love you."

he whispered, earning a hum from me as i dozed off.

#wattpad #x reader #337 #matt murdock #smut #daredevil #marvel #imagines #one shots #requests

[moonknightly]

and you keep me holding on : santiago garcia x reader (nine)

Word Count: 2.3k+

Excerpt: “He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.”

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault, cursing, uhhh I think that’s it?

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

OCTOBER FIFTH — DAY TWO

Santi isn’t sure who calls her parents, but they’re in the waiting room the next morning and while he knows that they have every right to be there, he wishes that they would just go away. Her mother is already talking about taking her “home” the second she’s released from the hospital.

He doesn’t have the energy to fight with them yet, doesn’t know how to tell her grieving parents that her home is with him. She belongs with him, he’ll take care of her.

But then again, he’s already failed once.

Maybe she won’t feel safe with him anymore.

Maybe she won’t feel safe in the new apartment, she won’t recognize it. Sure, she’ll look around and see familiar furniture, some pictures and the duvet she’d picked out herself. Nevada. Maybe she’ll smell Santi’s cologne in the air or the stench from the cigarettes he smokes when things get just a little too hard, but it’ll all be in a space that’s entirely new.

Did he make the right decision? Should he have stayed at the last place?

No. No, he doesn’t think that would’ve been smart either.

Maybe she does need to go with her parents, back to the house she grew up in, where her room hasn’t been touched since she was in high school and everything is familiar.

But then she says his name in her sleep, and he knows that he’s not going to be able to let her go.

He knows he can take care of her. He’ll do it right this time, he’ll never let a damn thing happen to her ever again.

So Santi shuts it down the moment her mother brings it up again, and he’s surprised that her father actually sides with him on it. It doesn’t turn into an argument like he thought it would and he’s beyond thankful for that.

She stays asleep for most of the day, only waking up for a little while at a time, and when she does, she refuses to take her eyes off of Santi. It only serves as further confirmation that she needs him, he’s the right decision.

Jay offers to stay with them for a while, thinking maybe they’ll both feel better with another set of eyes, a little added protection, and at first Santi shakes his head — he feels guilty for some reason, he doesn’t know exactly why but he feels like it’s too much.

But then she has a nightmare, and he watches as Jay immediately reaches out and touches her cheeks to let her know she’s not alone, she’s safe and they’re right there. Santi’s positive that Jay has noticed that he hasn’t touched her yet, and he also knows that she probably needs someone who will be able to give her physical reassurance when she wants it.

So he caves, only if Jay will take his bed while he crashes on the couch and of course Jay says no.

But it’s not something they really have to worry or argue about right then.

She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

OCTOBER SIXTH — DAY THREE

Every single news channel has been covering her return just as much, if not more, as her disappearance. They’re still looking for Nathan, but Santi’s sure they’ll never find him. Not anytime soon, at least.

He didn’t know if he’d dumped her with the intention of her being found alive or dead, but either way he has to know she’s been found and that they’re looking for him again with the same amount of ferocity as they had been when she first went missing. He hates to think about that, how after just a few months everything just seemed to die down for everyone else but those in his little circle, and even then sometimes he felt like the only one who still cared.

Santi shakes his head and pushes those thoughts away.

Her. He just needs to focus on her.

They’d gotten her temperature up, and the cocktail of medicine they’d been pushing for the last three days seem to be doing their job. Her scans all came back clear, no damage to her heart or brain. All in all, she’s responding well to treatment.

She’s still confused though, still disorientated whenever she wakes up but the doctors assure Santi that it’s completely normal and to be expected. He’d asked them how long it would take for her to become lucid and coherent, and they hadn’t really been able to give him an answer.

Could be a few days, could be another week.

But it’s okay, she needs to rest. She needs to rest and Santi needs to get a fucking grip on himself so he can be there for her when she’s finally fully conscious again.

He thinks the nurses have started to notice that he’s keeping his distance, and that they’ve been setting him up to touch her in small ways that he can never really say no to.

“Can you fix her blanket for me?”

“Hold her hand up while I replace the bandage on her IV?”

“Help me slide her over?”

He always does what’s asked of him, but his fingers never linger and he’s managed to do it all without directly touching her skin so far. The sweatshirt she’s in is good for more than just keeping her warm.

But still, he doesn’t really count it as touching her. Direct contact with her body isn’t something he can even imagine right now because he still wants to cry every time he pulls away from her, and he’s only touching a fucking piece of clothing she’s wearing.

Santi needs to get his shit figured out.

It’s not fair to her, not in the least.

So at three in the morning, when he knows it’s going to be another hour before her morning labs are drawn, when he knows that there won’t be a single person in to bother them until then, he gets out of the chair he’s been living in and moves to sit on the end of her bed.

She stirs, and the panic in her eyes is immediate. Her fingers tighten around the blanket and she looks like she’s getting ready to scream or cry out.

He hates it. He hates causing it even though he knows that he’s not really the reason behind it.

He clears his throat and whispers her name, trying his best to keep his voice from wavering.

She blinks, his voice clearly registering in her head though she still looks confused and unsure, but the terror melts away. She knows this is someone safe, someone that she can trust and someone who isn’t going to hurt her. She’s safe.

“Stay.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes again. “You always leave.”

He’s figured out that she thinks she’s dreaming every time she opens her eyes and sees him. She thinks that she’s going to wake up to Nathan and that Santiago will be gone.

It breaks his heart.

“You’re not dreaming sweetheart. You’re okay.”

She shakes her head again.

“I’m right here,” he repeats, taking a deep breath before he reaches his hand out, but he stops when he’s only an inch away.

There’s no heat radiating from her, and if he wasn’t standing there watching her breathe he’d be thinking the worst.

It finally hits Santi just how small and fragile she is.

And now he feels like if he touches her, he’ll break her.

He pulls his hand back.

He’ll try again tomorrow.

OCTOBER SEVENTH — DAY FOUR

It’s cold and dark and his voice is coming from all around her. He’s calling her name, threatening her with things that she tries so hard to block out but they still creep into her mind, filling her with even more panic and dread as she’s left to think about what he’s going to do to her once he finds her.

Nathan calls it “The Game”.

He gives her a thirty second head start, tells her to run as far and as fast as she can, and if she can get away, she’s free. She can go home.

But if he catches her, his twisted words become a reality. He’ll keep her chained up for a few days, or maybe it’s a couple weeks or even a month, she’s never really sure but then the cycle repeats.

And he always catches her, always. No matter how sure she is that she’s finally escaped, he’s always right there to pin her to the ground and have his way with her. He’s always there to crush her hope and what little faith she’s able to gain back in those brief moments of thinking she’s free.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind enough to focus. She needs to get moving.

She looks down to figure out which way she had come and there’s snow. She hates snow. She used to love it, back when her and Santi would go for walks around Christmas time, hot cocoa in hand with their arms linked together. She wonders if he’s put the tree up this year. She wonders if Christmas has already passed.

But per usual, that happy thought of Santiago is ripped away from her when she hears Nathan’s voice again, this time only closer. Her skin crawls.

She has to start running. She knows she’s not as fast as she used to be, she’s too weak, but she has to try.

God, she hates snow.

She never stands a chance. It’s always so easy for Nathan to follow her tracks, and it always feels like there are tiny little needles stabbing into her bare feet with each step she takes, but she doesn’t allow herself to feel it in the moment, no. She never thinks about the pain until The Game is over, because of course she’ll take that moment of pain in trade for freedom. She’ll take those pins in needles if it means she’s just one step closer to getting away.

She thinks she might have it this time. Nathan’s voice is far off again, and she can see something in the distance. A road, maybe.

Yes, a road. That was definitely a car zooming past.

She runs faster, that familiar hope blossoming in her chest. She’s so close, so so close. Just a few more yards-

But then there’s crushing weight on top of her, and rough hands grabbing at her hips and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is.

He found her, of course he found her.

She immediately starts to cry, kicking herself because she should have expected it, she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes so high. All Nathan does is laugh and pull her closer, and then she feels his hand move into her hair. He holds her head up so she can keep her eyes on the road while he gets himself ready to do what he always does.

She tries to just lay there, begging her mind to drift off towards Santi, towards her safe place. When she thinks about him instead of what’s happening, it’s not so bad. Santi makes it all better.

But then another car drives by, and then another, and another and she can’t focus on anything but the fact that she’d been so close. There were people right there, maybe close enough to hear her if she’s loud enough.

She screams.

She wakes up screaming.

She’s screaming and kicking and Santi’s immediately by her side, calling her name, begging her to look at him but she doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t register it.

He calls out for a nurse, starting to panic, afraid that she’s hurt and in pain but then he hears his name leave her lips in a broken, mangled sob and he knows she must’ve been dreaming.

He wants to cry with her. He hates seeing her like this.

Two nurses rush into the room, trying to get her attention as well but to no avail. They’re asking her what hurts, what happened, but all she can do is thrash around and call out for Santi again.

Hearing her like that, it’s the final push he needs to finally reach out to her.

Santi takes her hand, kissing each of her knuckles once he feels like she’s not going to punch him while he whispers that it’s okay, he’s right here and he’s not leaving her. She’s not with Nathan, she’s not in danger. She’s okay.

She doesn’t calm down, not really, so beyond terrified that Santiago’s voice is nothing but a trick her mind is playing on her, that he is the dream, one her brain had created to block it all out.

He repeats his words a second time, moving one of his hands up to her cheek, and it seems to break her out of it just a little bit more. He brings the second one up so that he’s cupping her face, and he watches as she immediately melts into him.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, it’s okay. It’s me, Santi.”

She doesn’t open her eyes. He wishes she would, but he doesn’t expect her to, not really. She’s so tired and he’s sure crying has left her completely exhausted.

He knows he’s right when her breathing evens out again.

But he doesn’t let go. Now that he’s touched her, he doesn’t want to stop, even though he knows that once she’s coherent it’ll probably be the last thing she wants.

He’ll take it while he can get it though.

He holds her hand all night long.

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier

[otonymous]

Fever Dreams (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)

Description: Gavin lets you in on the contents of his wet dreams… Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.  Potential trigger warnings: mentions of IV lines, hospitals, minor injuries, brief mentions of trauma, Eli’s sense of impending doom, vaginal intercourse, profanity, masturbation Word Count: ~3K words (~15 mins of sweet, sweet hospital lovemaking 🤣) Author’s Notes: Close your eyes.  Imagine that Gavin is by your side — muscles flexed and lips so close they practically brush against the shell of your ear when he whispers the following:

“I hope you enjoy this fic, which was based on and inspired by Gavin’s Whispers/Biting The Ear (咬耳) ASMR from the CN server, beautifully translated by the incredibly talented and gracious @cheri-translates​.” 🤣

In all seriousness, I’m extending a massive THANK YOU to the sweet @cheri-translates​ for providing me with the awesome goods that literally left me breathless!  This fic would not have been possible without you! 💕 With that being said, hope you all enjoy it and happy reading! 🥰

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

It was easy to forget at times; that Gavin was made of flesh and bone like everyone else.

That lionhearted though he was, the man wasn’t invincible, no matter what he would have you believe: hiding winces behind smiles and brushing off bruises blooming blue like they were nothing at all.

It was little wonder then that when the phone rang that night, it was Eli’s voice on the other line.  And as you stood before the bathroom mirror, wrapped in nothing but a towel and watching the colour drain from your face, the stilted manner of his speech made it increasingly clear he was unused to delivering bad news.

“I’m gonna kill him when I see him,” Gavin swears under his breath, the hand with the IV drip attached pulling into a tight fist by his side.

Now you understood why.

“They’re making a fuss over nothing, keeping me in hospital for observation.  It’s just a few scratches.”

Amber eyes train in your direction, the earnestness in their tender depths melting the edge of the anger you felt at always being the last to know anytime your lover got hurt.  And when he tries to smile despite the bulky bandage plastered on his left cheek, your resistance falters.

“ ‘They’re making a fuss over nothing.’  I bet you’d say that even if you were missing a limb, Gavin Bai.”  

Suddenly exhausted by the anxiety that made you rush to the Special Task Force hospital upon receiving Eli’s call, you slump into the chair at his bedside, still annoyed but relived to find that he was well enough to laugh at your sarcasm.

“Hmm, I must be in a lot of trouble if you’re calling me by name like that.”  

Smirk spreading on that handsome face, his eyes take on a mischievous twinkle that makes him altogether impossible to resist.  You couldn’t help but think of that rough and tumble high school senior who threw furtive glances in your direction every time he walked past in the halls, lip cut and face bruised.  

“Come.  It’s too late to go home now and you can’t sleep on the chair like that.  Join me on the bed.”

Voice breaking through your reverie, Gavin holds out the hand that wasn’t hooked to the drip — large, strong and inviting.  You hesitate, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you look towards the door.  

“I-I really shouldn’t.  We’re in a hospital and there won’t be enough room for the two of us.  You, especially, need a good night’s sleep, being injured—”

Three dull pats sound in quick succession to interrupt you.  Turning your head, you see Gavin scooting to one side of the bed, hand beckoning towards the newly vacated space.  “The beds here are larger than the ones in your average hospital.  STF perk, I guess.  But if you insist on refusing then…I guess I’ll just have to accompany you in sleeping sitting up—”

Relenting with a click of the tongue, you snatch the pillow from his grasp just as he begins propping it up behind his back, sliding it beneath his head as you gingerly crawl in next to him.

“That’s my girl.”

Gavin’s whisper is electric in your ear, low and seductive in a way that made you question the innocence of his motives, wondering if he was already aware of the sensations his body pressed to the side of yours was eliciting.  His lips curve in a smile on your forehead, breath dancing hot across skin.  And when he reaches for you, the sight mesmerizes: long, tapered fingers smoothing slow along the strands of your hair.

“Eli must’ve called while you were still in the shower.  You didn’t even have time to dry your hair, did you?  Look at how wet it is.”

And though you were on the verge of telling him that it wasn’t only your hair that was wet, you thought better of it.  There was a heaviness in his tone, weighed down by the concern that inevitably arose every time Gavin thought you weren’t taking care of yourself: encouraging you with bites of the BBQ pork rice he brought in takeout containers whenever you skipped meals during late nights at the office, draping his jacket over your shoulders when you shook from the cold — having decided on form over function in a lightweight but pretty new dress worn especially to impress on date nights.

“Don’t worry, it’s almost dry anyway.”

“Hmm.”  Faint displeasure taints his acknowledgment, but you close your eyes to the furrow in his brows, unable to focus on anything other than the touch of his fingers on your skin — calloused tips tracing the line of your jaw to traipse over the chin until finally coming to rest on your lower lip.  He is so close you can feel the tail end of your exhalation being drawn into Gavin’s next breath when he says:

“I know I really scared you this time.  I’m sorry.  I was careless, but it won’t happen again.  Please don’t be mad, okay?”

Eyes opening to the sight of his, you study the specks of gold embossed in amber, beautifully familiar.  See your reflection in the dark pupils holding your face in loving regard.  Felt your heart chill at the thought of Gavin one day not returning home.  And when the sting of tears arrives to redden the tip of your nose, you turn away, unwilling to add to his burdens with your own.

“All I ask…is that you be open with me.  I know you want to protect me, Gavin.  You don’t want me to worry.  But it’s much worse to have to guess about whether or not you’re lying just to be kind.  I’m a grown woman and your partner, so please don’t handle me with kid gloves.  Let me take care of you too, sometimes.”

Staring at the patterns on the curtain drawn around the bed, you listen for the rhythm of his breath — slow and even in the ensuing silence and punctuated only by the intermittent beeps of machinery, the weight of your concerns slowly sinking in before he finally relents.

“Okay.  I won’t keep anything from you anymore.  I promise.  So please…could you let me just…”  

A hand wraps around your waist, grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you close beneath the thin sheet.  You feel his mouth on the nape of your neck, Gavin’s kisses falling hot and insistent between muffled words.

“…hold you, like this?”

Nodding, you bite your lip, barely suppressing a moan to feel his fingers crawl beneath your shirt; warming themselves on the soft skin of your belly, tracing circles about the navel.

“Seven days.  It’s been…hmm…seven days since I’ve last held you.  It’s too long.”

The last statement is breathed into the curve of your neck and shoulder, your boyfriend inhaling deeply as he buries his face into the space, the embrace around you tightening as if touch alone could communicate all the longing he wasn’t quite able to put into words.

“It was a difficult mission.  I couldn’t sleep.  And anytime I did, I would dream of you.  Always of you.  Want to know what we did?”

Cotton-mouthed, you resort to nodding again.

“Then be a good girl and turn around first.  I want…need to see you…that’s good.  In my dreams, we’d be together, just like this.  I’d have you in my arms, so close I could feel every inch of your body…how hot it is…just like now.  No, don’t move away.  I like it. I’ve got a fever, but I’m also feeling chilled.  I want your heat.”

Those amber eyes are dark now, half-lidded and veiled with lust — proof that Gavin’s increasingly shallow breathing was not an exaggeration.  It was a look you recognized; the expression his handsome face wore the moment he saw you again after a mission had kept him away for too long.  It typically resulted in entire weekends spent in bed, limbs entwined as Gavin made love to you over and over again.

Until you were boneless and spent.  

Until your lover was satisfied that he was thoroughly reacquainted with every curve of your body.

You reach for him: trembling fingers tracing the line of his brow, thumb circling the apple of his cheek.  Gavin closes his eyes, exhalation shaky as he nuzzles into your palm to lay a kiss on that, too.

“Your touch feels cool on my skin.”

“Oh!  I’m sorry—”

“No.  Don’t be.”  Fingers curling about the wrist that pulled back, Gavin gently guides your hand towards his forehead.  “It’s nice.  I like it.  But…my back is warm too.  Do you think you could help me lower the temperature there?”

Swallowing, you start to inch your hands towards the open back of his hospital gown.  Gavin softly groans to feel your fingers running along the ridge of his shoulder blades, caressing defined muscles and faded scars you had committed to memory long ago.

“Is this all right?”

Now his turn to nod, Gavin’s head drops back, accentuating the bob of his prominent Adam’s apple in that strong, thick neck.

“I’m...ah…also feeling hot here.”

Large palms fall over the back of your hands, guiding them over his rib cage until they find themselves on the hard muscles of Gavin’s abdomen.  Thighs pressing together beneath your skirt, you trace that defined V-line — touch featherlight in a way that draws out a shudder, goosebumps blooming across the expanse of Gavin’s skin.

Suddenly, you freeze to hear footsteps approaching in the hallway beyond the door.  And just when you start to pull away, Gavin stops you with a whisper:

“Don’t worry.  The nurse has already been in to check on me tonight.  They won’t be back again, unless…unless they see that my heart rate has become unusually high.”

He winks.

“Besides, if they find you here, I’ll just say that, um…I’m afraid of sleeping by myself in the dark.”

That smirk again.  You wonder at what point your boyfriend had become so cheeky, knowing just the right things to say to get his way.

“Could you help me?  I’m burning up…right here.”

Lower and lower, he guides your hands, leaving them to their own devices when they reach the waistband of his boxers.  Barely breathing, you watch as the expression on his face transforms from anticipation to euphoria the moment you slip past the elastic, fingers circling his hardened length with a loose grip.

“Officer, you weren’t lying!”

Gaze already heavy with want, the chuckle Gavin lets out in response has never sounded so sexy.  “It’s because I’m running a fever.  Or perhaps…it’s because I’m thinking of you.  Do you think we should…make it even hotter?”

You wet your lips, feeling Gavin twitch in your hand at the sight; feel the vein pulsing on the underside of that thick shaft as he continues to swell in size.  Firming up your grip, you begin to stroke in earnest, trying to maintain your rhythm despite the distraction of your own throbbing pussy, despite the way you grew increasingly wet to envision him sliding into your depths, satin panties clinging to the lines of your folds.

Smoothing your thumb over the liquid arousal beading at the tip of his cock, you draw wide, slick circles over velvet skin — paying especial attention to the ridge just below the swollen head because you loved how Gavin sounded when caught in the throes of ecstasy.  It pleased you to pleasure him — the man who never thought twice about putting you before himself.

Always so strong, always fearless, you loved to watch him fall apart.  Over you.  Beneath you.  In you.  Held in the palm of your hand or folded to your embrace.  You could feel the tension leaving his body — worn out and battered — each time he returned to your side from a mission, the trauma of all the things he couldn’t talk about seeping from every pore as you sought to show him love with the swing of your hips, the kisses you showered upon his sweat-soaked face.  With the normalcy only the simplicity of a home-cooked meal could restore.  “I love you,” he’d smile and say, amber eyes blinking once, twice…as if Gavin couldn’t quite believe you were real.  “I really do.”

“This is the first time someone has stayed with me in the hospital, let alone shared my hospital bed.” Gavin’s voice is low, thick with emotion in between shuddering gasps elicited by each tug along his length.  “Who would’ve thought that...even at a time like this…I’d be lucky enough not to be alone.”

“I’d never let you be lonely,” you say with a sudden vehemence that surprises even you.  “Never again.”

He smiles, gentle eyes glistening when his large hand approaches to cup your face.  Gavin touches you as if holding something of infinite importance, “Angel” falling from his lips in a soft utterance.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.  I don’t want to.  What about you?  Will you…stay up with me?…Help my fever break—”

You kiss him deeply, swallowing his words even as your tongue pushes past teeth to meet Gavin’s in reunion.  You had missed him; missed the way he tasted, the hint of mint that lingered in the breath you shared, as if your very lives were as entwined as your bodies in embrace.

To lose him was to lose yourself.  

And so, you give yourself over to the man who gave so much and asked for so little in return.

“Then I won’t sleep either.  I want to stay with you.”

Throwing one last glance at the door, you rise to your knees, skirt bunching at the waist as you straddle his hips.  Eyes wide, Gavin starts to move before you stop him, saying “Let me” as you push him back onto the bed before the IV line could pull taut.

You loved how Gavin looked at you, the artless way he wore his heart on his sleeve — showing in the pink of his cheeks, the blush creeping all the way to the tips of pierced ears.  It was a side of him only you were privy to; unguarded and unfiltered.  He watched you now, those amber eyes lit with a dark hunger to follow the motions of your hands: one pulling dampened panties aside as the other spreads glistening lips, guiding his cock along the length of your slit before you ease yourself onto his hard heat.  

Unable to stop the moan that escapes, you slide…lower and lower…until the flesh of your buttocks meets the muscular plane of his pelvis.  But the sensation continues — electricity spreading towards the very pit of the stomach to curl your spine, chest opening to receive all of his love.

Breathing barely controlled, Gavin bites hard on his lip in a bid to stay quiet, unwilling to attract the attention of curious staff.  “God, you feel so good.  I just…just want to move.”

“No, let me…let me be the one to take care of you this time.  Please.”

For the second time that night, Gavin relents, yielding to your exquisite torture even as he fought to leash the animal impulse that spurred him to rip free of the machinery and fuck you until the bed collapsed.  Hands clenching tight around the bedsheet, his knuckles grow white, as if the flimsy fabric were a lifeline keeping him from being swept away each time you lifted and lowered yourself onto him.

For everything about you drove him mad, from the tight, grinding circles you drew with your hips whenever he was fully sheathed, to the clenching embrace of your arousal-slicked walls that held him like no other, as if the entirety of you were created with him in mind.  Or, at least, it was a fantasy he harboured; to think that fate had a hand in ordaining you his sole queen, and him, forever your humble servant.

“Ahh, Gavin!…I…you’re so deep, I’m com—”

You don’t get to finish before your mind blanks.  All you could focus on was the sudden grip of Gavin’s hands on your hips and the shift of your weight forwards when his knees draw up, giving your lover the proper leverage to pound hard and fast into you from below until your arousal pools to drench those six-pack abs.

It nearly overwhelms you; the orgasm that makes you collapse onto Gavin’s chest, the contractions that hit like tidal waves moving through your body.  They spur him on, continuing to fuck you so hard the bed shook, each and every thrust hitting just the right, swollen spot to keep you elevated on that high.  And when you whisper

“I love you”

before your tongue extends to suck the lobe of his ear into your mouth, the tension building in the taut muscles of that perfect body breaks.  

You hear your name leave his lips in a deep moan, feel him leave a part of himself in the secret space between your legs.  Taste the salt of his sweat on kisses laid upon the pulse of his neck.  Waited for his racing heart to slow before telling yours it was okay to do the same.

And when his arms wrap tightly around your body, “I love you, too” returned with palpable affection, you let yourself fall into slumber…knowing that even in dreams, Gavin would meet you there.

👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼👂🏼

Thank you so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mr love dream date #evol x love #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin smut #mlqc smut #my writing #fanfiction #mlqc ASMR

[primalsouls]

white rabbit pt 3

langa hasegawa x gn! reader (pt 1 - pt 2)

anon: omg is there going to be a part three of the white rabbit ?? i liked it a lot but its ok if you dont want to write a 3rd part :D

⚠️ : mentions of blood (like from small cuts??)

theme: general

note: sorry if the part where they skated is badly written lol. ive not good with "action" scenes. 💀 anyway, here is part 3! i hope you like it, enjoy it, and thank you for reading! no proofread, sorry for any mistake. let me know what you think. :)

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Skateboards were lined up beside each other. Their owner stood on them with ease, readying themselves once the horns go off. The crowd watched with anticipating gazes. Whispers were thrown among themselves on who would beat who. Bets were placed. All eyes set on the young pair. Excitement and anxiety swim around the atmosphere.

Langa took a deep breath. His baby blue eyes looked over to his group of friends. Reki sent him a wink, mouthing "good luck" toward him. Miya and Shadow talked among themselves what the White Rabbit would do to Langa. Said boy was nervous, for the time during a beef. He was nervous. Going up against his crush. Was probably not the best way for first impressions. Maybe, just maybe a beef wasn't a good way to talk to his crush. At all.

Before the race start off, Langa turned to the other skater.

"[Y/N], good luck." Langa said, surprising them with a kind smile. [Y/N] blinked, repeating his words through their head before a click of the tongue was heard and their eyes narrowed.

"I don't need your well wishes." They started quietly, voice low and steady. "I'm gonna win and you'll be the one leaving S. Not me." Langa was taken back by their words. He picked up the broken tone on their last two words. "And it's White Rabbit to you and everyone else. We're not friends and we'll never be." As they spoke, the traffic lights above them, went on one by one. When it reached the third light and the horn went off at the same time [Y/N] said those last three words, they dashed away from the crowd and Langa, already starting to get ahead of him. Langa froze a bit, watching them skated away. His head repeated their words over and over. It made his heart stirred uncomfortably inside, a heavy feeling settled inside his chest.

"Langa! What are you doing!?" Miya called out, bringing the boy out of his thoughts. He glanced over to them. Miya's face scrunched in a pissed manner as Shadow and Reki stared at him confused.

"Ah... Sorry..." Langa mumbled before he prepared himself shortly and took off with ease speed. Reki watched with a frown on his face.

"What's up with him?" Shadow asked as they all watched the bluenette disappeared from their sights. Reki shrugged, turning to the other two.

"I don't know... He look upset for a moment there." Reki said, scratching the back of his head. "Langa," he started off, catching their attention. "He has a crush on [Y/N]." His voice was low, wanting to keep it between the three of them but Shadow was shock at the confess he repeatedly the sentence loud enough for the small crowd surrounding them to hear but Reki and Miya shut him off, whispers being thrown at him to quiet down. "You guys heard me right." Reki continued, pulling them away from the crowd and headed to the large screen displaying Langa and [Y/N] racing down the old mine. Langa was still a bit far from them it made the watchers believed he won't be able to catch up.

"A crush? On [Y/N]?" Miya started slowly.

"aka the White Rabbit of S?" Shadow chimed in.

"Adam's sibling!?" Reki jumped when they both yelled at him in unison, causing him to take a step back and held his arms up to defend himself. He nodded rapidly to answer their three-part questions.

Miya shook his head, disbelief written all over their face. Shadow crossed his arms, head shaking as he disapproved of Langa's crush on the other skater.

"That's absurd. Of all people, this slime likes [Y/N]!? Did he hit his head or something!? Not only that, what makes him think beefing them would get them to like him back?" Miya paced back and forth, hands moving everywhere as he rambled on.

"Heh. He probably wants to see if they were compatible. I mean, it's such a uncool way to talk to your crush. If it were me, I would have just show them my awesome tricks!" Shadow exclaimed but when he turned to the boys, he received nothing but deadpan looks. "Why are you looking at me like that!?" Shadow glared, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, please, you wouldn't have the guts to do that in front of the pretty florist manager. Much less talk without looking like a fool." Miya taunted, smirking. Shadow splurted out insults at the youngest. Reki chuckled awkwardly. The redhead turned to the screen, the camera set on Langa. His brows knitted down. Reki could see he focused on something else than on winning.

"Langa..." Reki muttered, fists clenched by his sides.

Langa turned a corner, catching up to [Y/N] and the skaters that watched by the sidelines down the narrowed racetrack cheered for him and the White Rabbit. Most of them demanding the skater in front of him to guide him through their thorned pit. Langa didn't want this. He realized that now. This won't get him anywhere aside skating against them. And from the way they spoke to him in that little time between them, it sounded like anger flowed through their voice. He wondered why. Has he said something wrong to them? Has he spoke to them in the past and pissed them off in any sort of way? Langa couldn't recall any moment approaching them. So, why did they acted cold towards him? Why did he felt hatred from them? It bothered him. It upset him.

[Y/N] clicked their tongue. They glanced over their shoulder and noticed the boy catch up to them with great speed. They won't lose. They won't leave S. They won't be strip off their title. Off their everything they built. [Y/N] won't allow Langa to win. They had to win. Their life was on the line. Just the thoughts of it eagered them to speed up. They lowered their stance, picking up speed. As another corner came to view, the rabbit swirled side by side a bit, bend slightly and turned the sharp corner. Their breathing quickened. They were anxious for the race to come to an end. They know they be should careful but they wanted to end the beef already and prove to Adam what they were capable of being S's White Rabbit.

Langa. It was all they heard from their older brother. It disgusted them. Made their skin crawled. When their eyes first landed on the bluenette and the way he skate, it left them stunned. [Y/N] never saw anyone skate like him before. And when they saw Langa go up against their brother that one night. The way he avoided his signature move, Love Hug had left them astonished. [Y/N] only got hurt terribly when his brother practiced Love Hug on them and when their aunts questioned the bandages and injuries on them, they lied by saying they fell down somewhere. Bruises were always left on their body from that move. And it envies them that Langa found a way to avoid it.

[Y/N]'s handa clutched into fists. They reached into their single pocket on the front of their hoodie. They pulled out a long rope. Small, yet thick enough to hurl it at someone. It was littered with small sharp pointers that resembled thorns. The rabbit turned half their body a little towards Langa. As he came up behind them, a few feet away, they threw the rope with great force at him.

"Argh!" Langa covered his face when the object was thrown at him. He felt small thugs on his sleeves. He ended up taking a step back, making him lose his footing on the board but Langa forced his body to calm down and steady itself. When he tried to shoved the object away from him, it scrapped small cuts on his cheeks. He pulled down his arms down, looking around. Due to his small step back, he slowed his speed down, creating distance between them. The boy looked down at his arms and noticed small tears on his sleeves. No cuts created on his skin, though. But he did felt a hint of liquid streamed down his cheeks. Langa figured he got some cuts on his face and blood trickled down but he was scared to see it. He didn't have time to faint at the sight of blood.

A smirk was visibled on their face. With Langa's fall back, there would be no way for him to catch up. They were nearing the factory after all. Where the tracks narrowed down with no room to move or do tricks. The thought of reaching the winning line clouded their mind, [Y/N] forgotten what Langa was capable of doing.

And speaking of the young man, Langa made a couple of shortcuts to reach the rabbit.

It was beginning to look more of a chase now.

A bluenette skater chasing a white rabbit with crimson eyes. The factory being their thorns of pit.

[Y/N] looked around. Their eyes widen when they spotted Langa once again catching up to them. "What the hell!? How!?" They exclaimed. Cheers were heard from around them in the factory. It pained them. They were supposed to cheer for the White Rabbit. Not a pathetic boy who followed the rabbit down the hole. With teeth gritted, [Y/N] faced the boy completely, a deep frown on their face. "I won't lose." They whispered, coming to a halt by the stairs the narrowed catwalk led to.

Langa frowned slightly, looking around and trying to come up with a way to avoid the rabbit. Yet the same moment, he wanted to see what they would do.

"Oh no..." Miya said. Reki watched with mouth gaped.

"They're gonna hurt him. Real bad." Shadow added in.

"Langa... Langa, careful!" Reki shouted out with both hands around his mouth.

[Y/N] reached behind their back pocket and pulled out two black containers the sized of their palm and shaped like the spade. A single outlined white rabbit drawn in the middle of the spade container. As Langa neared them, [Y/N] raised their hands and like the stopwatch the white rabbit carries, time seemed to slow down around the both of them. Langa's eyes widen as the arms were pulled down, fingers releasing the containers, watching them aimed down at the space between them both. Shouts were heard from around them. Langa looked down at the ground once the containers hit the floor. Right before his eyes and [Y/N]'s, who still stood by the stairs, off the board, glaring directly at Langa with hatred, the containers exploded. Langa squinted when he noticed black like-vines popped out of the containers. They were thick like the rope from earlier, covered in thorns-like pointers as well. But this time, they were a little bigger that it looked like a tangled mess around the catwalk.

The thorned vines decorated the rails. From a far, it looked like an arch entrance was created. Langa closed his eyes and covered himself as he skated through the vines. His clothes getting caught on the thorns that looked like were getting closer. They were shrinking. When Langa glanced up, [Y/N] was already skating down the track, more arched vines coming life around the rails. They were spreading like they had a mind of their own. Langa bit his lower lip back. If he keeps going through the narrowed path, he would be cover in cuts, badly. And once wrong move would leave him blind.

He was determined. He would catch the rabbit.

Langa picked up his speed, deciding to go through the vines until he could figure out what to do. Blood spilled around his clothes from the cuts that covered his exposed skin but he didn't care at the moment. His eyes spotted an opening through the vines. Langa took a deep breath and jumped with his skateboard on that opening, a part of the rails that wasn't cover by the vines and swiftly rotated on the rail. A breeze going through his hair. [Y/N] glanced at their side and watched in shock as Langa clicked the front of his board on the rail that hasn't been decorated with their vines and moved once again with the other side of his board and jumped to land in front of the rabbit, a few feet away from them. The vines behind them both now, still spreading but with no one caught in their webs.

The White Rabbit was in rage. Langa escaped their hole. Despite the damage he received, he managed to crawled his way out and get ahead of them. They couldn't do anything else. The finishline was up ahead. Langa and [Y/N] tried to gather as much speed as they can.

"No. No, no, no, no...." [Y/N] whispered, pushing forward.

Reki, Miya, and Shadow were at the finishline, cheered for Langa to keep going.

Friends. It must be nice to have them. The support one gets. Having fun with them. They didn't had many friends growing up. Always isolated to their bedroom. They weren't allow to attend school like their brother had. No even oversea school. [Y/N] was stuck doing homeschool. No one ever knew about the child who came from another mother. Their father made sure no information about them were leaked out. Their father only paid attention to Ainosuke, after all. Neglecting only [Y/N]. Their aunts' so-called love hurts them. They didn't like the way they disciplined them. It traumatized them. A "love" like theirs was no love. Images was all they care about.

It sucks. And it wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair.

"No..." [Y/N] stopped right on the finishline. Hands limped by their sides. Cheers grew louder around them.

But they didn't cheer for them, the White Rabbit.

"You did it! Langa!" Reki yelled excited, running up to his friend and threw himself at him. Langa huffed as he catched him but winced in pain.

"Careful, Reki! He's hurt." Miya pointed out, running up to them with Shadow. Langa waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm fine..." He said, resisting the urge to look at the cuts. His friends sighed at his response, shaking their head in disagreement.

Langa only smile before he looked around, looking for the other skater. He glanced back at the finishline and spotted them standing them, skateboard still on the ground, one foot to keep it from slipping away. Their head hanged low. Langa picked up his brother and walked up to them, believing he could possibly talk to them properly.

"[Y/N]-"

"It's not fair..." Langa heard them, yet their voice was barely above a whisper.

"[Y/N]... Wha-"

"Congratulations, my SNOW!" a familiar voice announced, cutting Langa off. Said boy looked at the source of the voice. From the entrance behind the crowd, Adam waltzed in on his board. Like the first time they met. "You did it! You defeated the White Rabbit! How wonderful." Adam applauded, stopping in front of the two young skaters. "You finally caught the rabbit and dragged it out of its hole." Langa frowned. "And I'm sure that rabbit knows what happens when its loses." Adam glanced at his sibling. Their fists clenched together.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Reki called out, taking one step forward.

"The white rabbit leaves Wonderland. Forever."

#sk8 the infinity #sk8 #sk8 the infinity x gender neutral reader #sk8 the infinity x female reader #sk8 the infinity x male reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 x gender neutral reader #sk8 x female reader #sk8 x male reader #sk8 x reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #langa hasegawa #langa x male reader #langa x female reader #langa x gender neutral reader #langa x reader #requests #primal writes

[streetlight11]

Dystopia pt 8 (FINALE)

Summary: You were an Amity born. You were taught to value kindness and harmony. But you also valued bravery and knowledge. After the test to see which faction best suited you, you were given the choice to either stay in your faction or leave. When you chose to leave your faction for another, your whole life changed and you wondered if it was the right decision. You pondered over it at first, all until you met him.

Theme: Divergent au, strangers to lovers

Genre: mild action [I tried], angst, fluff, slowburn

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Trainer!Jungkook x Initiate!FemReader

Tips: In this whole series, Y/N is a few years younger than JK. Those who were initiates like Y/N that just ended the Choosing Ceremony, are all the same age. None of these characters portray who the mentioned people are in real life whatsoever! It's just a fictional character!

a/n: Hello! Guess what? You made it to the end! I know this is a short series but I'm more than thankful if you have made it this far. Although it's quite short for a finale, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much! But anyways, here's the final part for this series :) Enjoyyy

~~~

With hurried steps, all three of them quickly hollered their way through the facility in hopes that they would reach the dorms in time. Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast against his chest, unsure if he could even calm himself down knowing something bad had happened to you. That was the last thing he wanted. From the day he saw you a few weeks back, he knew he would like you.

He knew there was something about you that leaves him being all clammy and nervous despite his amazing skill at hiding his emotions. Jungkook never knew he would manage to get close to you, thinking it was impossible considering he was a trainer and you were an initiate.

However, it looks like fate has a different plan for you and him when he saw you training by yourself in the middle of the night. That was when he first got to have a close interaction with you.

Even though it was just him teaching you basic tips on how to improve your skills for each of the different skill sets, he still got to talk to you and also earn your trust after a while. And as the days gradually went by, it was needless to say that Jungkook had grown so fond of you and even had a crush on you.

Yes, a Dauntless Trainer having a crush on a Dauntless Initiate.

How cute.

Ultimately, it all goes downhill for him as he finally arrives at the shared dormitory, only to find the rest of the initiates crowding around at one spot. The minute Jungkook and Changkyun pushed through the crowd, their hearts stopped for a millisecond upon seeing what the fuss was about.

There you were, cradled in Hyunjae’s arms as Gahyeon was crying with her hands desperately pressing what looks to be a completely blood soaked towel against your throat.

Your throat has been slit, not too deep to kill you but just enough to render you voiceless.

You were just turning around on your bed when you peeked your eyes open out of instinct, feeling as though you were being watched. Except, you weren’t expecting for it to be legit. Because the minute you opened your eyes, there was a hooded figure looming over you with a hand raised to their head level with what looks to be a knife from the Training Room.

Fuck!

Before your mind could react, your body seemed to move faster as your arms swiveled to a cross position over your face right when the person launched his attack to your head.

With the tip of its blade just barely missing your right eye socket.

You used all your energy to shove their hand away using your arms, only to kick their stomach harshly. They stumbled back a little before lunging back at you. However, you quickly rolled out of bed to your left, falling to the ground with a soft thud just as they plunged the blade into the mattress right where your chest would’ve been.

You rushed to your feet, making a break for it to the open toilet but your steps faltered when you felt a sharp stab to your calf.

“Ah! Fuck!” You loudly hissed to yourself.

The blade got pulled out of your leg harshly, only for you to flip around on the ground.

The person kneeled over you as they tried to stab you in the face again but you managed to grab their wrist with both hands. They were strong. A little too strong if you say so yourself. However, for some reason, you felt like you knew this person.

You were struggling. You were struggling hard to push their hand away. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you used all your power to push them back.

For a moment, you were glad that they nearly fell off you.

However, you weren’t mentally and physically ready for what he was about to do next. And that was for him to make one swift swing of his arm. It all happened so fast, you didn’t even realize what he did until you felt something wet trickle down your neck. You tried to curse at them but instead you were shocked when nothing came out of your mouth.

That wasn’t until one of your hands reached up for your throat and you felt it.

The open slit, the feeling of wet liquid, your nostrils filling with the strong smell of copper, and finally, bringing your fingers up to see your fingers coated in your own red crimson blood.

Your mouth hung agape as you tried to speak but there was nothing. Tears welled up in your eyes as the person got up and smirked down at you.

“Goodnight loser. I hope you rot in hell.”

They soon took off running, leaving you there helpless with no voice to scream for help, to tell people who did it. But of course, you weren’t stupid. Despite the lack of light, only an idiot couldn’t catch on easily. For there is only one person who calls you ‘Loser’ right from the start. Your doubts were confirmed the minute that nickname left their lips.

Dumb move Yeonjun.

Since you couldn’t scream for help, you slowly began to drag yourself across the room, leaving a long trail of blood behind your leg where you got stabbed only to reach the end of Gahyeon’s bed.

With one swift grasp, you managed to hold onto her shirt and that was enough to wake her.

It took her a second to realize what happened until she saw the trail of blood on the floor and your bleeding throat that you were desperately putting pressure on. She let out a shrilling scream before yelling for help from the others. Everyone began to panic at the gruesome scene, making Hyunjae cradle you while Yunho rushed out to get help.

Jungkook carried you to the hospital wing, with Gahyeon, Hyunjae, Yunho and Changkyun tagging along. One of the nurses inspected your injury, seeing that you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. She mentioned that they had to give you some blood in order to save you and they have to be the same blood type as yours. After much inspection, it was clear that only Jungkook and Hyunjae shared the same blood type as you.

Both of them offered to donate some of their blood to you to save your life. While the two were being drawn of their blood, Changkyun went ahead and brought the other two back to their dormitory to rest. You were already laying there on the medical bed unconscious which means you couldn’t feel the way Gahyeon gently gave your blood coated hands a small squeeze.

“Please be okay, Y/N.” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Yunho comforted the girl before they both left with Changkyun.

A few minutes later, the nurse managed to collect as much blood as you probably needed after losing them quite a bit. She placed a bandaid over the spots where she injected the tube in their arms. After she was done, she dismissed the two boys but Jungkook asked if he could stay.

She nodded, setting up the equipment so that the blood she collected from the two gentlemen could be transferred into your body through the IV in your hand.

Hyunjae left after caressing the top of your head, wishing you a speedy recovery.

The nurse went ahead and disinfected your wounds before suturing the open cuts and wrapping them with bandages. Once she was done, she excused herself, leaving you alone with Jungkook as the male went over to scoot his chair closer to your side. Jungkook carefully reaches for your hand that didn’t have the needle attached. He brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry this happened to you Y/N. You truly don’t deserve this…” Jungkook whispered as he stood up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He felt sorry. He felt sick. He felt confused. But more importantly, he felt furious at whoever did this to you. Of course he didn’t know who but you knew.

You woke up to a sharp pain in your throat, feeling it get itchy like an unusual sore throat. The prickling pain in your right calf made your leg jolt as you shot your tired eyes open. The morning sun filled the room. You carefully looked around to find you alone in the room which looks to be the hospital wing.

Memories from last night suddenly came flashing into your mind like a tsunami, and yet, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Did that really happen?

Was it all a dream?

You almost didn’t want to believe it until your hands reached up to your throat and you felt the soft material of the bandage taped onto your neck. Of course, your stubbornness was trying to make you think otherwise so you opened your mouth to speak.

Truth be told, nothing comes out of your mouth. Absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.

Your thoughts were swirling, a million things running across your head at that very moment. From the incident last night to the final evaluation test you were supposed to have today. The test was supposed to determine your final results of your initiation. It was supposed to determine whether you get to stay in Dauntless or you get kicked out and become Factionless.

Of course, there are two ways of getting that second option. First is by failing Stage 3, and second is of course by not attending the final test at all.

How wonderful.

As your mind was swirling with these complications, you completely missed the figure that was making their way to you. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from you that you looked up only to lock eyes with Jungkook.

Immediately, a whole swarm of emotions came rushing through you as you began to cry. Jungkook rushed over to you, only to hush you.

“Shh… Shh… Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re fine. I’m here.” Jungkook cooed as he held you in his arms, feeling the way your arms wrapped around his waist tightly like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. His heart swelled upon feeling his shirt get soaked from your tears.

Your silent cries only made his heart drop even more. Jungkook caressed the back of your head lovingly, making sure to give you small reassuring kisses to the side of your head as a way to hopefully calm you down.

You both stayed like that for a bit before he sang you a sweet song in your ear.

Jungkook felt your body relax in his touch, happy that his singing made you calmer. After a while, he pulled away slowly to look you in the eye. How is it possible that you are just sitting there crying your eyes out and yet you still looked beautiful? Or maybe it’s just him.

Who knows.

Nevertheless, he wipes your tears with his thumbs and soon smiles down at you.

“You’re so strong. You’re a strong girl Y/N. And I really admire you for that.” He whispered. You couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile when you felt him boop your nose with his own. You had so much to say to him. So much you wanted to share with him. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today. Just then, Jungkook’s smile faltered and it made you curious.

You reached for his wrist where his hand was just cupping your face softly, to catch his attention. You silently asked him what’s wrong through your worried eyes, hoping he could read your mind.

Thankfully, he did.

“The final stage… It starts in 5 minutes. I talked to the leaders about your current condition. I tried my best to change their mind, Changkyun did try too… Unfortunately, the leaders made an agreement to… disqualify you, which means… y-you…” Jungkook paused as he struggled to convey the message to you but you already knew what it meant.

You violently shook your head at him. You had to redeem yourself. You didn’t plan for this to happen. You were forced to be in this damn medical bed out of your own will. Oh if only they saw who did this to you, would they gladly throw him to the Factionless.

“Decision has been made. Since you can’t physically be there, you’re immediately disqualified.” Jungkook said as you shook your head again. There must be something about the way you were staring at him because at that very moment, it was as though you sent him a message through telepathy.

“Wait a minute… For the final test, you don’t need to talk. You… just need to be physically there for the simulation.” Jungkook said in realization as your eyes lit up.

“Does that mean… she’s immediately disqualified?” Gahyeon asked sadly, only for Hyunjae to nod.

“I mean, technically according to the rules, you are supposed to be here physically for the final test… So, I guess that’s true then…” Hyunjae said.

The rest of them who were gathered by the side of the hall where the final stage would take place, shared mostly the same emotions about you not being able to join them which would render you as Factionless by default even after all your hard work.

However, it looks like someone couldn’t care less about you not making it.

“Who cares? She doesn't belong in Dauntless anyway.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he walks to the front, leaning against one of the pillars. Your friends exchanged a few glances to one another, not feeling good about the way he said that. A few minutes passed, and they had just finished the test with the third person on the list. All the initiates were anxious as they waited for their turn. Soon enough, the Dauntless leader calls out the next name to be on stage.

“Y/F/N.”

With that, the room fell silent as the initiates looked at each other with deep frowns on their faces. A few beats of silences went by, not a single sign of you anywhere. Meanwhile, Yeonjun had that devilish smirk on his face as he felt satisfied with your lack of presence.

Unfortunately, just as the leader was about to call out the next person on the list, Jungkook’s voice echoed around the hall from the opposite end of where the initiates were gathered. That’s when Jungkook emerged through the double doors with you beside him.

He had one arm wrapped around your waist as you limped your way to the platform where the chair was waiting for you. Your friends cheered for your arrival as they shouted a string of goodlucks to you. Yeonjun growled, totally not expecting to find you still alive.

Maybe he didn’t cut you deep enough.

You immediately recognized the lady who was prepping the tools to put you into simulation, to be the same lady you met on your Initiation test.

After you sat down, Jungkook gave your waist a little squeeze before he smiled down at you and whispered, “Goodluck.”

He soon left your side as the lady asked you if you were ready. You gave her a small nod, letting her inject the needle into your neck right below your ear.

Once the serum had been injected into your system, it took effect right away, bringing you to your first simulation. It was the same simulations you went through during your Stage 2. They were all of your fears connecting one simulation to the other. You managed to remember what Jungkook taught you during the past few weeks and how to properly handle each situation like a fellow Dauntless.

The minute your last simulation ended, you woke up calmly only for the lady to smile.

“You did well.” She complimented you as she helped you sit up. Jungkook came to your side and very gently led you off the platform.

“Good job. Looks like my tips worked huh?” Jungkook asked, to which you smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He guided you to the side only for your friends to rush over to you.

“Sweetie! You’re okay! How are you?” Gahyeon asked as she hugged you, making you return her hug. You showed an ‘okay’ sign with your hand before Yunho ruffled your hair. “Of course you are, you’re a beast Y/N.” His comment made some of them laugh, including you. Just then, your eyes drifted to your left only to meet Yeonjun’s fiery eyes.

All you wanted to do was throw him in The Pit. The last thing you wanted was to see his competitive ass everyday from now on.

However, you weren’t going to kill him despite all the pain he’s caused you.

After letting you meet up with your friends, Jungkook brought you back to his penthouse to let you rest. He carefully laid you down on his bed, pulling his blanket up to your chest while you snuggled into his side with your head resting on his chest. Jungkook chuckled as he caressed your hair, tucking them behind your ear, making sure to let his fingers softly trace the side of your face as he did so.

“No matter what the results are, I’m never leaving your side. That, I can promise you.” Jungkook said softly as you tilted your head up to look at him. You wished you could speak. You wished you could verbally say this to him outloud. Unfortunately you couldn’t.

In the end, you opted for the saying ‘Actions speak louder than words’ and so, with that being said, you lifted your head up and used your left elbow to prop your body up on the mattress.

Jungkook watched you carefully as you slowly leaned in only to press your lips softly on his. Almost instantly, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his fingers to tangle into your soft locks. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting your thumb trace the scar he had on his left cheekbone. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away for a breath.

His eyes fluttered open to find your cute ones staring back at him. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he gently massaged your scalp in a calming manner.

“If that is your way of telling me what I think it is, then I’ll be the one to confirm verbally that I feel the same way too…” Jungkook’s voice was smooth and sultry in your ears, it almost made you melt into a puddle. Almost.

So with one more kiss from him, your heart raced in your chest as he pulled away to let his lips hover over yours before he said the words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“I love you Y/N.”

Prologue

6 months had passed, you ended up staying in Dauntless together with Gahyeon, Hyunjae and Yunho. Right after the final stage, you gave Jungkook the weapon Yeonjun used to attack you the night before the final stage. After investigating the weapon and finding evidence that confirms Yeonjun was indeed the attacker, he was immediately thrown out of Dauntless. Rendering him Factionless.

Yes, that jerk deserved it.

Yunho was given the role of a guard due to his unfortunate ranking but hey, at least he wasn’t Factionless.

Gahyeon was a trainer for Dauntless-born initiates while you and Hyunjae were trainers for faction transfers. Although, you only started becoming one after the 3rd month when you were starting to be able to talk again.

And how was your relationship with Jungkook, might I ask?

Well, just splendid.

Your relationship with him only grew stronger each day as he took care of you during the first few months when you still had difficulties to talk. He was always there for you when you needed someone to back you up in heated arguments.

Jungkook took you to visit your parents the day after the final stage. No doubt your parents got upset over what happened to their daughter, they were more than thankful that you were still alive and that Jungkook was there to keep you sane. As the months go by, Jungkook’s feelings for you bloomed.

Today was another day of training for you and your initiates where you managed to guide the new initiates along with Hyunjae’s help.

You were just standing off to the side, letting Hyunjae take over for the knife throwing session when you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrapping itself around your waist. You giggled as you turned your head to find Jungkook’s face just mere inches away from yours.

“Not here, love… We’re in the middle of training.” You whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him before he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Can’t I just give my beautiful girlfriend some loving kisses before I go to my meeting?” Jungkook teased, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you being needy?” You laughed.

“Only when I miss you…”

“We literally saw each other an hour ago, Kook.”

“I know.” Jungkook grinned cutely at you only for you to push his face away gently while you laughed.

“Hmm, needy indeed.”

“Hey…” He pouted at you. Of course your heart couldn’t bear to see his sad pout so you turned to face him completely. Reaching up with both hands to hold his face, you pressed your lips on his before pulling away to see his silly smile on his face.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him hug you.

“I love you more.”

That was the last thing you heard as Changkyun’s voice beckons your boyfriend over from a few feet behind Jungkook. “Come on lovebird, we gotta go… See you later Y/N.” Changkyun chuckled as he wiggled his index finger towards Jungkook. Your boyfriend gives you one last kiss before he jogs over to his older friend.

Maybe joining Dauntless wasn’t as bad as you thought after all.

~~~

Previous

a/n: Thank you for reading this series! Do check out my other fics if you're interested to read more of my writings! ❤️

Main Masterlist

Taglist: @moonchild1 @danyxthirstae01 @helenazbmrskai @jenna-posts @pimentelssmile

#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jk #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts jk fluff #bts jungkook angst #bts jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #dystopia series #bts x reader #bts divergent au

[redstainedsocks]

Wrong

I've had this half-written in my docs for a long while, under the heading "doorstep collapse" so I think it was for a prompt or whump event but I don't remember which one...

Normal story this time, not the AU!

Content: sick fic, fainting, delirious whumpee, hospital setting, use of sedatives, reference to noncon drug use, mentioned death threat and manner of death, overwhelmed caretaker

[Masterlist]

One or two of the team had taken to sleeping at the office at a time so that Zach was never there alone. Archer wanted to stay every night, always eager to be nearby in case something happened, but he’d been convinced to go home at least one out of every three nights.

He’d spent last night at home, sleeping guiltily in his own soft bed, miles and miles from where his best friend was holed up in a sparse, grey room that was as far from homely as Archer could imagine. Though he knew for Zach it was probably the most comfort he’d had in years, which made Archer feel even worse.

He’d slept well at home, exhausted from late nights and stress, but he would much rather have been here. The pull out couch in the break room was lumpy and not long enough for his tall frame but he still preferred it these days. Zach was just down the hall and it soothed a tightness in Archer’s chest to be close by. To know he could walk down the corridor and lay eyes on the person he thought he’d lost.

He was still untangling his own mix of grief and disbelief, but he knew it was easier to bear the guilt of having left Zach with his kidnappers if he was at least around to make sure it didn’t happen again; if he could be there to help Zach feel safe now.

It was easier not to have to examine his emotions and thoughts at all, if he was so exhausted that he couldn’t think straight.

Zach had gone to bed a couple of hours ago and he had sat up flicking through paperwork, trying to keep busy even as his eyes itched with tiredness. His ‘bed’ was made up ready for the night but he was sprawled on top of it, putting off the moment of sleep until he could close his eyes and be instantly drawn under.

He was surprised to hear a soft knock at the door, tentative, the sound of someone off balance slumping on the other side. Maybe Zach couldn’t sleep either? Maybe he’d finally had a nightmare and come for company—something none of them had seen him do yet.

“It’s open,” he said, half sitting up.

The door swung inward and Zach teetered on the threshold. His eyes roved across the room, landing on Archer but darting away again.

“Zach?” Archer was up and off the bed in an instant, but paused a meter or so away, as Zach looked flighty and liable to flinch at any contact.

“Ar-cher.”

“Yeah?”

“I think,” Zach spoke and it was slurred and he clung to the doorframe. “I think something is wrong.”

Archer barely had time to react before Zach’s eyes rolled backward and his body crumpled underneath him. Archer caught him just before his head hit the floor.

Time was standing still and moving too fast all at once. The ambulance had taken what felt like hours to arrive, while Archer sat there cradling Zach—delirious, feverish, burning up and shaking like a leaf.

The private hospital they were in now was clean, clinical, and calm. Quiet. Discrete. It was a good place to keep Zach hidden and secure, but being there still set his teeth on edge. He paced the corridor-like waiting room back and forth, glad that no one told him to stop. The team had all been called; Sasha had been the one who turned up and stayed. She was a quiet, steady presence. And though he could tell from the line of her tense muscles that she was as worried as he was, she let him be the one to fall apart while she held it together.

Zach had a fever, something was infected. The doctors just couldn’t find where or what. They hadn’t been allowed to see him. Yet. Archer hoped that would change soon.

He rubbed his face tiredly. “I should get more coffee.”

“I think coffee is the last thing you need,” Sasha replied, calmly. “Come sit down.”

He glanced at her and shook his head. He needed to be moving, doing. “If he—” Archer couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “After everything, if this is too much for his body to handle…”

“Nothing is going to happen, the doctors are gonna fix it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” She levelled him with a look that could surely make a mountain bow down and grovel.

“How didn’t we notice something was wrong?”

“He doesn’t let us near him, not really.”

Finally, he slumped into a seat beside her. “I should’ve watched out for him more carefully, checked he was okay. I should’ve… I owe him. We just… we can’t let him down again, we have to do better.”

“Archer, we’re doing everything we can,” she said gently.

“It’s not enough!” He snapped. “We abandoned him! We just left him there and now we can’t even take care of him? Can’t even tell what he needs?”

“Montgomery Archer, sit. Back. Down,” she hissed.

He hadn’t even realised he was standing. He looked down at her, the unfairness still burning through him, how could she not care? Until he saw her face, eyes glistening, and realised the strength of will it was taking for her to hold it together.

“This is a goddamn hospital and this is not the time,” she said, squeezing her hands between her knees. “We thought he was dead, and there’s shit all we can do about it now. You can have a breakdown about it later, but not now, not like this.”

He took a seat, sheepishly. “Sorry. I… seeing him collapse like that has me all churned up.”

“Don’t apologise, you big oaf. Just breathe, and know they’re doing everything they can, and give yourself some damn slack while you’re at it.” She sniffed and turned away.

He scooted down in his chair and leaned against her shoulder, glad she didn't shrug him off, and relieved not to be alone.

*

They were finally allowed in the room once Zach was stabilised. Allowed in because, in the doctor’s words… Zach was resistant. Archer hadn’t really understood the implications of that, his mind taken up with thoughts of he’s fine, he’s alive, they’ve got it under control.

But now… he could see what they meant. Zach was fighting the sedative, semi-conscious and struggling, suffering. He couldn’t really move, but his eyes were open and he was frightened, terrified, but so obviously not-really-here, either. Whatever had happened these past two years Zach had built up some tolerance to the drugs they’d given him and it was heart-breaking; seeing him foggy but alert, unsure of where he was and unable—but so desperate—for something he couldn't name or do.

“See if you can get him to remain calm, he needs to rest,” the doctor said, arms crossed in concern as his eyes roved over Zach’s prone form. “We can’t try him on anything else until this one is out of his system but even then… He’s been asking for someone, we assumed, well, it might be you?”

Archer nodded, cleared his throat. ‘Right, yeah. He knows me, I can—I’ll do what I can. Anything I should be careful of?”

“Just mind the IV line, and call us in if he gets more agitated or anything changes.”

“Okay, I’ve got this. Thank you, Doctor.”

He did not have this. Not even a little bit. He felt completely out of his depth. He loved Zach like a brother, had loved him and mourned him, and now… felt like he barely knew him. What qualified him to take care of Zach like this? He wrung his hands and stepped closer as Sasha sidled around to the other side of the bed. Zach’s eyes tried to track her, and lost her somewhere along the way. His breathing sped up again, bloodshot eyes wide and aimlessly roving as his fingers twitched on the bed sheets.

“Please, please,” Zach murmured. Whispered, almost. It was slurred but unmistakable.

Sasha gave Archer a look, and nodded to the bed. He shook his head. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms and they stared each other down.

I can’t do this. He hoped she understood what his look implied.

Her answering look seemed to say you’re not even trying.

He threw his hands up in defeat and stepped closer. Zach’s eyes landed on Archer’s face and he twitched feebly, shivering in his sparse hospital bed.

“‘M good, I’ll be good, please.”

Archer leaned against the bed, trying to look reassuring, confident. “Yeah, you’re doing really well, okay? We’ve got you, nothing to worry about.”

Zach’s hand jerked and his mouth opened and closed before he whined. “Hurts.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” He looked at Sasha who nodded, so he took Zach’s hand and lightly squeezed. “It’s alright.”

“Please, you promised. Promised.”

That took Archer by surprise and he sucked in a breath, biting his tongue.” I know, I-I said nothing else bad would happen to you, I didn’t know this would happen…”

There was a frustrated look on Zach’s face and his eyes filled with tears, his head flopped a little, side to side. “You promised.”

Archer did the only thing he could think of, he squeezed Zach’s hand tighter and dragged the chair by the bed closer so he could sit and be a calming presence. He wouldn’t abandon Zach, not again, no matter how much Zach yelled and cried at him, broken-hearted though it made him to know he’d let Zach down another time.

“I’ll do whatever--ever you want. Sir, please,” Zach’s voice cracked and he mumbled into incoherence, all in a pleading, painfully placating tone.

Archer’s eyes shot up and he met Sasha’s across the bed, looking as concerned as he did as realisation dawned on them both. Zach wasn’t here.

“Where do you think you are, Zach?” she asked quietly.

Zach--who had flinched at sound of his own name--whimpered. “Can’t--don’t know.”

“You’re safe, we’re here, me and Sasha, and the team has our back. You’re in hospital,” Archer said.

Zach looked at him, clearly, finally. “Promise? Keep your word, like you promised?”

“What did I promise you?” It was a calculated risk to play into whatever Zach thought he was seeing, but he needed to know, didn’t he?

“You said… said you wouldn’t lemme die like this. Not like this. A bullet, you promised, not--not sick, not slowly.”

Archer couldn’t breathe, he blinked furiously to try to keep the tears at bay. “I promise, no-one is dying, not here. Not like this.”

Zach breathed out and tears ran down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and rested his head heavily on the pillows. “Promise. And I’ll be good.”

It seemed to be enough to make Zach settle, and he fell into a fitful doze. Sasha brushed hair back from his forehead and checked the lines in the IV on his right hand. Archer brought Zach’s left hand to his face and kissed the back of his wrist, rubbed his thumb in a circle and then laid it down on the sheets and sat back to bury his face in his own hands.

He jumped when Sasha touched his shoulder and scrubbed hastily at his eyes. “We don’t leave him, one of us stays with him until he’s himself again,” he said, voice thick. “We can’t let him get lost in his own head.”

“I’ll get us something to eat,” she said. “We’ll see him through this.” She left quietly, slipping out the door with graceful ease so they kept their privacy.

He nodded. They would. But really… what could they do in the face of all this?

“What the hell did they do to you?” he whispered to the quiet room.

Zach was too far gone to answer.

@haro-whumps @whumpthisway @hurting-fictional-people @lonesome--hunter @crowned-avery @extrabitterbrain @firewheeesky @outofangband

#sick fic #fever #delirious whumpee #hospital #drug use #referenced noncon drugging #death mention #death threat #whumpee and caretaker #fainting #sedated whumpee #sick whumpee #fevered whumpee #team whump #Zach and Archer #spy whump #referenced death threat

[lucky-peoqle]

unwanted guests | d.m.

pairings: draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader, somewhat platonic!weasley twins (fred is pretty flirty😁)x hufflepuff!reader, platonic!cedric diggory x reader, and platonic!zacharias smith x reader.

summary: y/n the hufflepuff american student promised her housemates, cedric and zacharias, that she would watch them practice for their next match, she was accompanied by the infamous gryffindors, the weasley twins. as watching her house, she starts hearing whooping and hollering, she soon gets annoyed with the group of slytherins and confronts them.

warnings: some swearing, blood, pansy bodyshames reader

a/n: hello, ive bee super busy with school !! im currently obsessed with hp again :) hope u all enjoy this,, its a bit longer than usual. this is set during goblet of fire !! :) very unedited and kinda rushed :/ sorry

the temperature was pretty cold on this particular fall day, as the y/h/c hufflepuff sat outside, writing in a journal she kept, looking up to answer her housemate and one of her best friend, cedric diggory's questions.

"so, will you come? zacharias thought it would be a good idea," he said, motioning to the blonde hufflepuff boy who was watching from afar.

"hm? oh, uh, sure! if it makes you two happy," she looked up from her journal, smiling at the brunette, then the blonde.

"great! i'll tell him when we get to lunch."

and with that, the bell rang, making the other people outside with you get up and head inside to the great hall.

the two of you got up, and started making your way to the great hall, colored robes passing you by. "did you ever open up the golden dragon egg?" you said, looking up at him.

"yeah! that reminds me, i have to tell harry about that. thanks," he smiled.

you smiled back, "potter? you're telling him how to open it?"

"why not, y'know. it's the least i could do," he shrugged.

"that's so sweet! i'm glad you two are getting along."

by now you were in the great hall, walking past the gryffindor table to your table, making eye contact with the golden trio and weasley twins as you passed by with your best friend.

you were in the same year as the golden trio, meeting them the first day on the train, them finding you american accent amusing, but they got use to it pretty fast. then they introduced you to ron's twin brothers, fred and george, they were drawn to you instantly, poking fun of your accent from time to time.

last but not least, you met cedric. you met cedric in the common room your second day of hogwarts. you had drifted to sleep, one of you housemates cats curled on your lap, and cedric had woken you, helping you back to bed. ever since then you had been best friends ever since.

you took your sear next to cedric, zacharias smith, another close friend of yours, sat across from the two of you.

"zach! good news, y/n is coming to watch us practice tomorrow," the brunette smiled brightly.

"great! i can't wait to show off to you, maybe it'll make you fall for me instead of that weasley twin," he said jokingly.

"who? fred?" she chuckled, "zach, you're kidding right? freddies just a friend. sure we flirt, but that's what friends do, right?"

"you have a weird interpretation of friendship y/n/n," zach stifled a laugh.

you rolled your eyes, turning your head towards cedric, who was looking at the ravenclaw table, that was standing next to your table. you followed his eyesight that was met with cho chang.

"ced is making googly eyes at his girlfriend again," you laugh, making him turn his attention to you.

"so what? don't act like i didn't see you smiling at fred weasley."

"i smiled at all of them! fred and i don't have feelings for each other," she huffed.

"suree," zacharias said in a sing song voice.

you shook your head, poking your food around your plate, looking across the ravenclaw table to the slytherin table. you saw draco malfoy joking with his friends, his cold grey eyes drifting to meet your warm y/e/c ones. his eyes grew colder once they finally met yours. you softly smiled at him and his eyes grew softer, and he quickly turned his attention back to his group of friends.

'huh, weird,' you thought, turning your attention back to cedric and zacharias.

the day quickly passed, ending like it always does. going into the hufflepuff common room, it being filled with muggle and non-muggle type plants, the warm fireplace going. you made your way up to your dorm you shared with hannah abbott. changing out of your robs and falling asleep quickly.

you woke up, the warm fall sun peeking through the window of your dorm. you looked over at hannah, who had been awake but reading, it was still a bit early so breakfast wouldn't be ready yet. it was saturday after all, so no need to worry about classes.

"morning," you mumbled tiredly to hannah.

"good morning!" she put her book down, "i came back late last night from study with ernie and you were out like a light!"

"yeah, last night was kinda of tiring," you chuckled, sitting up, "why are you up so early anyway?"

"i thought we could go down to the great hall together, we've been so busy and rarely get to talk, why not catch up on our way down there yeah?"

"sure! that sounds lovely," you smile, getting up from your bed.

the two of you got ready for the day, putting on your hufflepuff robes, and made your way down to the common room. only a few people were sat in the common room, a few waving and bidding you good morning as you passed by.

you two walked out of the common room and head up to the great hall. "so how have you been?" hannah asked beside you.

"i've been well! busy with getting cedric through the tournament, y'know..."

"yeah, that must be though."

"it isn't actually! im extremely proud of him, i know he'll win this."

"i really hope he does! finally a hufflepuff getting the recognition they deserve," hannah smiled.

"newt scamander is pretty cool," you smiled, "i take great pride in being as the same house as him."

hannah shrugged, "yeah, very interesting man, he is. isn't loony lovegood related to him?"

"don't call her that, she's very nice. but, i believe so, in some way."

by now, you're in the great hall, making your to your table. you continue to chat till hannah departs from you to sit with susan bones and leanne, who were chatting amongst themselves.

you quickly find cedric, who was chatting with justin finch-fletchley. you sat next to him and started putting food on your plate. he heard you and turned your attention on you.

"good morning y/n/n," he smiled brightly.

"good morning ced, how're you?"

"great! excited for practice today."

you two chatted for the rest of breakfast, by the end of it, you were stuffed. you looked at the slytherin table, remembering the look draco malfoy gave you. you spotted him, he was talking to crabbe, goyle, and pansy, laughing, smiling, he looked happy.

draco turned his head to answer someone's question, while doing so, he caught you staring. you blushed brightly, hesitating before giving you a smile. he returned the gesture with one of his iconic smug smirks.

you looked away, turning your attention to cedric, "practice starts soon, i should get ready. see you out there?"

you nodded with a smile, and he smiled back, getting up and leaving the great hall.

you got up after a bit of thinking, and made your way to your common room to grab your journal and scarf, since it would be chilly out.

once you did so, you made your way back up the stairs, going through corridor to corridor.

you were walking in peaceful silence, until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, and lift you up, spinning you around.

you let out a laugh as the two head headed boys laughed loudly, "fred weasley! put me down!"

"what's the magic word?"

"please!"

"no, but close enough," he said, dropping you, making you land on your butt.

"ouch! fred! george! what were you thinking?"

"we weren't! so what are you up to?" george chuckled.

"i'm going to watch cedric and zacharias practice," you smile, "wanna come? i wouldn't mind the company."

"sure!" the boys said together.

you're little group of three walked to the quidditch posts, your yellow and black scarf clashing with their red and yellow ones. fred had thrown an arm around you shoulder.

you sat down in the middle of the twins, fred's arm sitting around you. you were right, it was chilly, but it was nice. this was your favorite time of year.

you watched as cedric and zacharias flew around, catching the ball or passing it to another teammate. zacharias caught sight of you, and winked, motioning to the arm around your shoulder. you just stuck your tounge out in response.

the time you spent was fun, until a certain group of slytherins decided to crash the practice. you rolled your eyes as the began to yell and laugh at them, distracting the players.

"ignore them," george said, "they have no brains, nor can they play fair."

you chuckled at that, "you're right on that one."

the four slytherins were still yelling, it was very annoying. fred and george reassuring you to leave them alone and they'll get bored and leave soon.

you kept your temper, watching your house practice. it was going fine, until draco yelled something towards cedric that made your best friend look at him, the ball hitting him right in the face, knocking cedric off his broom.

you gasp as you got up quickly, looking over the railing, watching cedric get up from his spot on the ground, wiping his now bloodied nose.

you turn to malfoy, who was staring in disbelief, but always laughing. pansy parkinson was shrieking out laughter, it hurt your ears. you walk up to the four, george and fred calling out to you to stop.

"hey!"

the four turned towards you, laughing still.

"what do you want, l/n?" draco asked.

"you ass! cedric could have gotten hurt! he's never done anything to you! you distracted him on purpose so that you wouldn't have to face loosing to him in our next quidditch match against slytherin!"

"and so what? it's not like you can stop us from coming up here during their practice," pansy laughed. "you're just a pathetic little hufflepuff, well i wouldn't say little... your robes make you look fat."

you took a step back, you had always been insecure about your weight and body image. you began to tear up. george and fred too far away to hear what was going on. you opened your mouth to defend yourself, but nothing came out except a small squeak.

pansy, crabbe, and goyle all let out shrieks of laughter. you couldn't let them see you cry, so you ran. you heard shouting behind you. draco yelling something, and the twins shouting after you, following you.

you had lost them though, finding yourself in moaning myrtles bathroom. you said down the wall, letting out sob after sob. you sat there crying for a while, until you heard someone come in.

"leave me alone, you're unwanted here." you choke out, looking away from them.

"sorry about what pansy said back there, i told her since the start of third year, you were off limits."

you turn around, seeing the platinum blonde slytherin. "off limits?"

"from us bullying you, she's been jealous of you since."

"jealous? of me? what are you talking about?"

draco took a seat next to you, "i've fancied you for a while, just never had the courage to tell you. i thought you liked one of the weasley twins honestly."

you shook you head, "or were you just too ashamed to tell me since im a pathetic hufflepuff?" you sniffed.

"what? no, no! that's not it, i was just scared. I didn't want to be rejected, i guess."

"the thing back there with cedric, you're an ass for that."

"i know, i didn't mean for him to get knocked off his broom, i deserved to get yelled at."

you sat in comfortable silence for a while, not knowing what to say. pansy's words making their way back into your thoughts.

"pansy was right."

draco laughed, "about?"

"me being fat, my robes look horrible on me."

"don't say that! y/n, you're on of the most beautiful people i've ever seen walk this earth," draco said looking over at you.

"why the sudden urge to tell me about your feelings?"

"because it felt right... like yesterday and this morning, you smiled at me and it felt like it was time," he sighed.

you smiled over at him, and grabbed his hand. he intertwined your fingers and smiled back. he began to lean in, until his lips met yours, fireworks going off. you pulled away, your face bright read.

"who would of thought, me, draco malfoy, slytherin prince, dating a hufflepuff..."

"the world works in crazy ways," you smile, "i'm glad you came looking for me."

"so am i, y/n, so am i."

end.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy #fred wealsey #george wealsey x reader #fred weasley x reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #weasley twins #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy imagine #weasley twins x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader

[timothy-chamlet]

the afterparty - t.c. fanfic

pair: timmy x female reader

warnings: unprotected sex, general smut

word count: 2.6k (2640)

a//n: ok er ive never written for timmy before so im nervous snsvsj but if you read it tell me what u think !! <3

°•○●○•°

people often thought the two of you were dating. paparazzi tended to make it look that way through press. despite all the candid photos of you and timothée plastered in magazine spreads and floating around on blogs, he would tell people you weren't together. interviewers would ask, and time again he would put an end to the rumor by saying you weren't dating, you were just friends. 

to be fair, you honestly couldn't even be mad at him. it was a good marketing tactic, at least. if all the girls knew he was single they'd still be invested in the persona of a young, attractive starlet that - despite his more than desirable qualities - is still single. genius. meanwhile you were being his best friend and his trophy for award shows. 

it was growing on you though. you enjoyed walking red carpet events and going to extravagant parties and meeting big names in the industry. it was really a win-win for both of you. 

another one of those win-win situations was tonight. the past three days had been crazy. hair appointments, nail appointments, dress fittings, photoshoots, brunches, and dinners. running each new day on an hour of sleep - maybe two if you were lucky. fueled by energy drinks and the promise of rest after the event. showing up to an awards ceremony on nothing more than a 20 minute nap and a double shot espresso. being timothée's showpiece was exhausting. but it was good for you. 

you had just finished your last consultation for dress fittings and were on your way to your styling appointment. the dress would arrive shortly after you so everything was ready to go. things were set for timothée to meet you there in an hour or so, after his own styling. 

currently you're getting your makeup done. a swarm of professionals all around you, handing products, giving directions, telling you how gorgeous you look, at least three hands on you at all times. after almost an hour all the disembodied hands move from your face to reveal the *almost* finished product. you still need your hair done, but your face was flawless. your skin was insanely smooth; not a pore in sight, your lids were a bronze shade, and your lips were a perfect nude. 

a hair stylist soon steps into view, also admiring your makeup before diving into your hair. it was simple. a slicked back ponytail is all, careful not to draw away from your face and your dress. 

the strong aroma of hairspray clouds you as you maneuver to step into your dress. stripped of your previous clothes, you step into your dress and a couple people help you pull it up. the woman attending to the supper in the back steps away for a moment, seeming to answer a question. 

"what's his name?" she asks into her ear piece. "uh yes. she's in here with me. send him in."  

she returns behind you and does up the zipper to your dress. to your surprise, you see timothée waltz in the room. dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light lavender button up underneath. "y/n," he exhales, walking towards you. "you look breathtaking, ma chérie." 

"you don't look too bad yourself, timmy," you say, stepping down from your pedestal to be almost eye level with him.

"is she done here?" he asks everyone around without taking his eyes off you. 

one of the women there swoops in with a pair of shoes and says, "slip in to these and you're ready to go, darling." 

you step into your shoes and link arms with timothée. "carriage awaits," he says as the two of you get escorted to the limo. 

once inside you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. "you okay?" he asks from beside you. 

"yeah, just.. tired." 

he chuckles and drops his head. "absolutely exhausted." you two had similarly scheduled days so he knows exactly how you feel. "don't worry, mon amour, i'll have you home in about 8 hours." 

"i thought the awards show was only 4-" 

"there's always the afterparty.." 

you audibly groan and drop your head as timothée places a reassuring hand on your knee. 

"we're here," he says with fake enthusiasm as the limo pulls up to the event. the past 45 minutes felt like hours as your head began to pound from the lack of sleep. yet, lucky you, 45 minutes in l.a. traffic was a miracle. 

the two of you step out into the scene. flashing lights from camera flickers, the general buzz of the crowd, people you knew trying to get your attention, people timothée knew trying to get his attention. being the kind person he is, he doesn't shy away from fans calling his name. he walks over to give high fives, say hi, sign things, and really interact with the people that are so invested in his career. you look at him with a fond smile on your face as he greets  people.  

"timothéeeee," you both hear and turn around to match the loud booming voice to a face. 

"armieee!!" he yells in response, hurrying over to hug his co-star. 

you stand idly by as the two hug and catch up. fiddling with your ponytail and the skirt of your dress. until that same voice catches your attention. 

"bring it in hot stuff!" 

"hey, armie! how've you been, handsome?" you two had only met a handful of times, but it's like your souls clicked instantly. he had kept in touch since the first time you met and you guys had been pretty close ever since. 

"oh i’m doing great. really. just excited for this evening. can't wait to see how many awards lil' tim brings in," armie ends with a light laugh before timothée chimes in. 

"oh god no-" 

a cheery voice interrupts the conversation. 

"helloooo," armie's wife says in a sing-song voice and joins his side. "nice to see you again, y/n. and congrats timmy on your nominations." 

you and timothée nod in response and utter small, nervous 'thank you's' before armie excuses the two of them, promising to catch up later. 

"well, well, well- this is it, timmy." you say from your seat next to him. the host reads the nominees for best breakthrough of the year, and timothée's name is mixed in with so many other talented actors. he nervously puts his hand over yours. "you are absolutely amazing. everyone knows that. you're gonna get it." he looks at you and you pass him a reassuring smile. 

"and the award for best breakthrough goes to… timothée chalamet!" 

his head shoots up in shock. cameras pan around him and his baffled expression appears on huge screens behind the stage. he slowly stands from his seat and makes his way to the stage. making a beautiful speech, thanking almost everyone he's ever known. giving gratitude to everyone he's ever worked with, his parents, and his best friends. he comes off the stage and returns to his seat beside you. a year runs down his cheek, and you move to wipe it away, but he grabs your hand away from his cheek only to press his lips to your knuckles. "thank you for always believing in me." 

"you're an amazing actor and an even better friend. 

the night was nearing an end. people were saying their goodbyes and their 'see-you-soon's and going their separate ways. you and timothée walk out of the event, arms linked, with his hands tightly gripping his award. the smile never leaves his face. "i can't fucking believe that, y/n."

"you did it, timmy! all you and your hard work. lemme pick a nice spot on your shelf for it yeah?" 

"i was thinking about sitting it on my dresser right above the drawer full of your shit you keep leaving at my house," he says with a barely visible smirk. 

"oh, well if it's such a problem," you begin "i guess I'll just have to come get my 'shit' then?" you finish sarcastically. 

"oh! how dare you?" he begins to shout, going on a tirade similar to that of hamlet; overly dramatic and mostly nonsensical. "leave them be! small, small remnants; reminders of thee." he trails off softly, dropping his head to your shoulder and bringing his other hand up to trail his fingertips down the side of your face. 

you can't help but chuckle at this. "bravo timothée! amazing performance." 

he straightens up before taking a bow and returning to his previous position on your shoulder. "do you wanna skip the afterparty?" 

"and do what, tim? i thought you were gonna catch up with armie?" 

"i dunno- go to my place?" 

you nod your head, and timothée let's the driver know to just go to his house. 

you get out of the car in front of his apartment, quickly thank the driver, and dash inside; excited to remove the day. "can i shower?" you ask quickly already making your way upstairs.

"oui, mon trèsor, make yourself at home. ill be up in a while." it was almost as if he had it scripted. a routine more or less. you'd ask to shower - despite him telling you almost each time you never had to ask - and go up stairs to do so; him trailing along about an hour later behind you. 

you finish your shower earlier than planned so you decide to lay on his bed until he comes up. you let your freshly washed body relish in the textures of the cotton t-shirt and shorts you're wearing and the damp-cool feel of the comforter on his bed. 

you're not left alone for long before he darts up the stairs and into his room, catching your attention. you watch as he walks around, dropping various articles of his clothing haphazardly on his floor. left in only his boxers. 

"timmy?" you ask in a drawn out voice. 

"hm?" he asks lowly in response; his eyes trained on you. you don't respond to his muffled question and instead watch as he comes to lean over the foot of the bed, by your legs. "i've been thinking," he continues, "a lot recently. about us.." 

"us?-" 

"about what the media thinks we are. what the people say. the blog posts, the tweets. i read it all… what do you think about it, y/n?" he ends with a light sigh, making drawing light swirls on your leg. 

"i dunno really. i've never thought much about it," you say sitting up. 

he moves up from his place in front of the bed, crawling up to sit to the right of your legs. knees drawn up to his chest, eyes meeting yours. he raises his hand so his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek. "you never think about.. the possibility of us?" he pauses as his eyes drift from yours. hands falling to his lap as he scoots even closer to you. you sit stunned, not knowing how to answer as if it was some rhetoric instead of a simple question. filling the silence, he continues. "i think about how different things would be if we were together. what it would be like to hold you and kiss you and- can i kiss you?" 

his voice wavers as his eyes meet yours yet again. with quick movements, he moves to straddle your legs, both hands resting lightly on either side of your face. 

"can i kiss you?" he asks again, his face millimeters from yours. 

you shake your head yes as your eyes fluttering closed, your lips brushing against his as you move. 

he plants his lips firmly on yours. innocent at first, but the kiss quickly gets deeper. more desperate, his hands moving from the sides of your face to tangle in your hair, pulling your head back giving him access to your neck. his lips dance around the skin of your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. “is this okay?” he whispers, dragging his hands from your hair to the hem of your shirt. 

you nod your head vigorously and he pulls your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the floor with his clothes. you lean back and give timothee free reign of your chest and stomach. he makes his way from your neck down and across your chest. your hands rush to knot in his hair as he takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully flicking his tongue across the hardening bud before doing the same to the other. 

"timmy.." you breathe out as he leaves your chest and explores lower. his eyes meet yours as his teeth come into contact with the flimsy waistband of your sleep shorts. "please," you whisper. 

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs; eyes going wide when he sees you have nothing underneath. 

"so pretty," he whispers almost to himself as he throws your shorts in his floor with the rest of your guys' clothes. he runs his finger along your slit, collecting some of your wetness, tasting it. laying back down with your legs over his shoulders, he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place. he runs his tongue along your folds and you arch your back in response. he sucks on your clit making you squirm and tangle your fingers tighter in his hair, pushing against his face, eager for more. 

"tim-... timmy," you beg.

timothée kisses his way back up your body. "hm?" he hums softly beside your ear only for you to utter another weak 'please' in response. 

"please… please what, mon amour?" 

"baise moi.." you didn't know much french. you had picked up on a few of timothée's most used phrases, but this you hadn't learned from him, so it caught him off-guard. stuck in a moment of shock. hearing you say something so dirty in french felt so strangely intimate; you didn't have to ask him twice. 

he slips his boxers, finally accompanying you in nakedness, and slips into you, moaning at the feeling of you around him. 

"fuck.. timmy-" you groan as he picks up his pace. he coos sweet nothings into your ear while drilling into your core. 

his head drops to your chest and the soft, sweet praises slowly turn into obscenities. "merde," he groans, picking up his pace even more. holding himself at arms length above you, he throws his head back; lips parted in pure bliss. 

you lift one of your hands to trail down timothée's torso. you lazily drag your fingertips across his chest and down to his stomach. the pleasure building inside you, your hand finds its way to your clit. “timmy... fuck! ple- please don’t stop. fuuuuuck!” 

“défaire pour moi, y/n.” you didn’t think french could ever drive you to orgasm, but when it came from timothé anything was possible. you convulse around him as your wave of pleasure washes over you. timothée reaching his own peak soon after, pulling out and emptying on your stomach. he quickly finds something to clean you up with before plopping down on the bed beside you. many silent moments pass - nothing but heavy breaths leaving either of you - before he speaks up. “you know,” he begins in a soft whisper, “i felt bad- like i was using you. just to go to events with me. i know you don’t really like them but-” 

you cut him off and turn to face him. “i might hate going to those award shows, but they’re a little less bad with you around.” 

he breaks into a wide smile and pulls you closer, putting his head on your stomach. "mon amour, je t'ai toujours aimé." you reach down to play with his curls and begin to drift off on your way to sleep. 

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