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#knew what i was doing but my brain was just. ''GO GO GO GO DO IT DO IT DO IT'' and it didn't matter if it was a good or bad thing in the
princessbrunette · 3 days
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thinking about bunny being in a slightly difficult mood, grumpy, huffing and stomping her foot around tannyhill. rafe’s trying to let her have her temper tantrum since they’re a rare occurrence. but after a few hours of her sour mood not letting up, he manhandles her rove this lap to put in her bunny plug and finger her till she cries and he’s cooing at her about how “only dad can fix that little attitude huh, bun?”
oh my god??????
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
he can handle the grumpiness, stomping around in little heels and huffing at minor inconveniences. sour moods never last too long with you, so having to deal with you isn’t exactly something that concerns him. however, he is a little surprised to learn that after a few hours — you’re carrying that same amount of aggression, manicured nails digging into your palm as you storm around with clenched fists, shrugging carelessly to whatever rafe asks you and bottom lip permanently jutted into a pout.
the final straw is when you go to pull your shirt from your dresser where it was folded, tugging a little too hard and hearing a tear. usually, this wouldn’t bother you. you knew deep down that it was no biggie to get something like that fixed, and rafe would never let you walk around with holes in your clothes — but the simple act of it happening sent you over the edge, screaming at the top of your lungs and repeatedly beating the shirt on the dresser, kicking your kitten-heeled feet against the wood of it until the heavy footsteps of your boyfriend had arrived behind you.
“the fuck is —” he cuts himself off, seeing the scene before him, taking in the dramatics before instantly doing what he knew should have done hours ago. in seemingly one quick movement, rafe yanks you by the arm out the way while opening the drawer and pulling out the clean bunny buttplug just waiting for usage. “alright, alright — alright!” he yells over your fussing until it was just broken whines and cries, the boy forcing you over his lap on the bed.
“its broken—” you go to yell once more as rafe yanks up your skirt, but he cuts you off quickly — asserting his dominance in hopes you’ll simply relax.
“lower your voice kid, won’t ask you again.” he commands sternly, and luckily you don’t bother again, sucking in short breaths and sniffling into the bedsheets as he works your panties off completely, knowing you won’t be needing them anymore.
you groan when rafe slots his hand beneath your throat and lifts your head with his grip, bending as much as he can to crane over you and hold the plug to your mouth. “c’mon. get it wet. don’t waste my time.” he taps your bottom lip and you sniffle, drooling until not only the metal was coated but his fingers were too from the run off. “shit, crazy girl.” he tsks as he leans back, touching the tip of it to your puckered hole. “you’re gonna calm the hell down. alright? once this is in you’re gonna chill out. i know you need me to fix that little attitude, okay i know. but you gotta use your words and not freak out on me. daddy can’t help you otherwise. yeah?” he talks to you as he pushes it in, feeling relief in the way your body melts on his lap, still sucking in harsh breaths but slower.
“yeah.” you repeat, knowing you had to say something but your brain was in melting mode, not capable of thinking of much else.
“alright. good. now, look at me — m’gonna ask you something n’i want an answer.” he demands, slowly helping your trembling body to stand between his legs. you clutch his white shirt in your fists, grounding yourself as your tearful eyes flicker over his face. you make a noise of acknowledgment so that he can continue. “what do you want? i— i can’t fix it for you baby ‘cos i don’t know what it is.” he flings out an arm, gesturing the shirt you left strewn on the floor. “is it that? do you want me to look at that? do you need a nap? food?” he shakes his head in exasperation, wide eyes searching yours with parted lips like he was really trying to figure you out.
you sniffle, shuffling on your feet as you stand inbetween his legs, his arm around your lower back keeping you leaning on him — and you’re not saying anything. he blinks, before speaking once more. “its dick. you want dick, huh?”
you didn’t know you did. truthfully, you’d been in a god awful mood all day, feeling like everything was going wrong — and in that moment things became just a little clearer as to why that might be. rafe hadn’t fucked you all week, you’d been out and about doing your own things — which is normal and okay in every relationship — just not in yours. you needed rafe to remind you who’s boss, because you didn’t wanna have to think anymore.
“please.” you nod, fiddling with his shirt button and the hand around your back slides down to beneath your skirt, tugging at the tail before massaging his fingers over your empty hole, feeling the way it gets sticky around him.
“hm. i should’a known.” he drawls, eyeing over you before plucking at your clothes. “gotta take this off, yeah? lemme see you.”
(⑅◞ ִ ◟⑅) · ˚ 𓈒 🎀 ྀི 🌸 ♡
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vidavalor · 2 days
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Great Balls of Fire
Ok, I've got a Final 15 theory on the kiss and the elevator and... pie?
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This is for-- and in thanks to-- @indigovigilance, @ineffablelunatics and @somehow-a-human, as their metas reminded me of the idea of something in Aziraphale's mouth after the kiss and their talk of ball bearings and The Bullet Catch has eaten my brain alive and so here we are. Thanks also to @kayleefansposts for drawing my attention to 2/3rds of the metas. 🤗
What, exactly, happened in The Final 15? Maybe this...
As observed by many of us and discussed in the metas of the people I mentioned above, Aziraphale visibly has something in his mouth when he pulls back from the kiss. We also see him move the object around in his mouth-- or, we do, if his expression doesn't distract us first.
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Because it's on his tongue, this isn't just light being weird or showing a filling or something. This is, clearly, a piece of metallic-colored something in Aziraphale's mouth. @indigovigilance pointed out how aspects of this parallel aspects of The Bullet Catch and I would agree with that. @ineffablelunatics, off of @somehow-a-human's post on the object, said it looked like a ball bearing and that's actually when I realized that I think the show might have subtly told us over the first two seasons what it is. And if it is what I think it is? The object is the reason for Aziraphale's reaction after the kiss-- not the kiss itself.
So, what is it?
To explain that, we have to start with two scenes, one from each season: 1601 and Crowley in Heaven with Muriel in 2.06.
In the 1601 scene, we learned that Crowley & Aziraphale experimented with their powers after they got tired of canceling each other out and that they discovered Heaven's dirty little secret in the process. That secret is that basically the only differences between them are the colors of their feathers and the lack of immunity to hellfire/holy water. Heaven has been telling everyone that some magic was "demonic" and that angels couldn't do it and they also had told everyone that demons no longer possessed angelic powers. Crowley & Aziraphale realized that this was bullshit-- Aziraphale could do temptations and Crowley could still do blessings. It's this discovery that allowed them to start fulfilling each other's assignments. They didn't tell a soul because of the danger of admitting they knew, especially because admitting it would be acknowledging that they had worked together to figure it out. This means that, with the exception of holy water being dangerous to him since he fell, Crowley is effectively still an angel in terms of the power he possesses.
This would mean he can magically make just about anything he could make when he was an angel. It's relevant because Crowley, as we'll see, made the object he slipped into Aziraphale's mouth during the kiss.
When Crowley is in Heaven with Muriel in 2.06, he opens the file on Gabriel's trial, which we are told can only be accessed by "a throne, or a dominion, or above"-- further showing that the truth is that Heaven actually can't strip angels of their power to do miracles. They're just simply telling them that they have done so as a form of social control and casting some to Hell to use them as way to discourage rebellion. This scene also reminds us of Crowley's awareness of this and shows him using his "angelic" powers to get information to help Gabriel.
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The same scene with Muriel and Crowley that showed us that Crowley still retains his angelic powers reminds us again of the rank of throne/dominion in Heaven. (I say "throne/dominion" because Muriel's verbal commas and the way the sentence is structured-- along with the scene in S1 when Crowley goes from his throne to dominate his plants lol-- suggests that it is possible to be both ranks of angel at once, which is another topic so we won't go too far into that right now.) Crowley was undoubtedly a throne/dominion-- and it's not even just the fact that he had that hilariously tacky throne in S1. It's relevant here because of ties of throne-related things to what it is that Crowley made and slipped into Aziraphale's mouth.
Thrones are apparently God's chariots. They are concerned with justice and reside in the areas of space "where matter originates"-- which feels very Before the Beginning, right? They are symbolized by big wheels that rotate and by eyes that change color.
Yes, by wheels and eyes that change color... seems very Crowley, no?
The eyes repeat on the symbolic wheels and are in the position of what we on Earth would call ball bearings, apparently looking kind of like this:
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...and remember the interconnected, turning wheels in the scroll that Crowley had Aziraphale hold in the moment they met, at the start of 2.01?...
It could be said that Crowley... a throne, a polymath, a scientist, an inventor... a being whose signature thing is the sexiest old car on four wheels... could make ball bearings from his body when he was an angel and, since we know that he still has basically everything but the ability to make holy water from his angel days, it means that he still can make those ball bearings...
...but we also know what else he can make from his body since he's also a demon-- and not just from his hands but from his mouth...
...hellfire.
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Yes, I'm saying that it really was a ball bearing in Aziraphale's mouth-- but it was not hollow or empty. Not by a long shot. It was full of hellfire. It wasn't for Aziraphale's memories as Crowley didn't think that Aziraphale had time or opportunity left to extract them.
It was a suicide pill.
The story was calling back to The Original Ineffable Divorce in 1862...
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Think about what Crowley saw when he was up in Heaven in S2...
Crowley is the one who put together what happened to Gabriel. He watched the video of Gabriel's sham "trial" and he saw The Metatron basically order Gabriel killed and cast down through the ranks and he knows that Gabriel only evaded Hell because of how it would have diminished the power of the institution of Heaven to send him there. Crowley knows that Aziraphale does not have this same amount of political power. He knows that The Metatron is a shifty motherfucker and that Michael cannot be counted on. He knows how much danger Aziraphale is in.
So, he takes a page from Lord Beezlebub after seeing that they protected Gabriel with the fly... only it's not exactly the same thing.
Beez's fly was given to Gabriel to help save him. It was a place to store his memories to help protect him long enough to keep him safe until they could make sure he was safe and intact. It worked because Beez and Gabriel had time to make a plan together. By the time Crowley is in Heaven watching the video of what happened to Gabriel and then getting back to the bookshop to sort it all out, there's no time for he and Aziraphale to make a plan. They are not alone again until after "The Metatron" has already shown up and, by then, Aziraphale is already on his way to being lost.
Beez is actually the first character we ever see make their signature thing on-screen and when they do? I mean...
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Evocative of a kiss, with that big closeup on Beez's mouth. We watch them push the fly gently out of their mouth with their tongue. It foreshadows Crowley making something in his mouth and ties delivery of it to the kiss. We know that Crowley knows that he can make a single object that is of aspects of both Heaven and Hell combined-- like a ball of hellfire tempered, unless consumed, by a ball bearing.
Plus, earlier in the season, there's Gabriel tying The Fly-- which came about as a result of Beez trying to help him manage his depression by helping him to feel safer-- to metaphorical suicide when he spends the scene where the angels show up chasing it around the bookshop, trying to kill it with one of Aziraphale's Bibles, symbolizing just what Heaven is doing to everyone's mental health here...
But this is just where this possibility starts, really... because why else do I think it's a hellfire-full ball bearing suicide capsule that Crowley gave Aziraphale?
Well, for starters, there is all the holy water that is all over this plot at the end of S2... At the end, Crowley stands in Whickber Street outside The Bentley right across from The Dirty Donkey in a nod to-- among other scenes-- the 1967 scene, when Aziraphale brought Crowley the holy water.
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Aziraphale knew that Crowley also secretly wanted holy water as a last resort and Aziraphale initially couldn't handle the idea of losing Crowley and reacted badly before eventually coming around to the idea that maybe Crowley needed to have some supernatural cyanide at his disposal in order to feel safer and that he should have that option. Based on the holy water story, Crowley, then, would be the first person to think that Aziraphale needed a suicide pill as an option if he found himself in trouble he couldn't get out of.
In 2.06, Crowley knows how likely it is that Aziraphale could be harmed by the angels and/or sent to Hell-- which is the domain of Crowley's assailant, who is literally Satan, and who hates both of them for, among other things, turning Adam against him. Crowley knows Aziraphale is a good person who wants to believe the best is possible but he also knows how unlikely it is that this is going to go well for Aziraphale. Crowley can't stand the thought of Aziraphale suffering so he gives him a way out as an act of love because Crowley would sooner lose Aziraphale for eternity than see him suffer.
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When it becomes clear that Aziraphale is going with "The Metatron" and Crowley is out of ways to convince him not to, he sees Aziraphale look away and start to cry. Crowley goes back and kisses him as a last resort but Aziraphale is initially resistant-- not because this is their first kiss and not even just because they're upset (though that's part of it) but because to kiss Crowley then would be to let him in... (after all of those symbolic doors and "let me in"s happening in the story)... when Aziraphale making the mistake of trying to shut him out.
Aziraphale eventually, though, can't help but let Crowley in a little...
...because, ya know, it's Crowley...
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...and, when he does, he opens up a little, and Crowley slips a suicide pill into Aziraphale's mouth.
It's also definitely worth noting that one of the reasons-- the primary reason, even-- why Crowley kisses Aziraphale is because he needs a cover to both make and give the fireball to Aziraphale without being noticed-- and to do so in such a way that Aziraphale would be assured of the ability to have it on his person when he got to Heaven-- even if he lost his clothes in the process, as like what happened to Gabriel when he was cast out. It has to go in Aziraphale's mouth for easy consumption for it to work and kissing him is the only way to do that. What's really worth noting, though?
Crowley's plan hinged on Aziraphale eventually giving in and kissing him back. He couldn't tongue the fireball into Aziraphale's mouth without Aziraphale parting his lips and Crowley knew he would... because he always does. Not that they're regularly trying to kiss while being super miserable lol but mah point is that Crowley knows that Aziraphale can't ever not kiss him. That's not indicative of this being a first kiss-- that's indicative of the complete opposite of that.
Anyway...
Aziraphale knows what Crowley can make and what it is that he just gave him and that's why this is his reaction after the kiss:
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The devastation isn't over the kiss itself. It's because Aziraphale trusts Crowley's interpretations of things more than his own sometimes and, by secretly slipping Aziraphale a suicide capsule out of fear and love and delivered in a kiss, it really hits home for Aziraphale that Crowley thinks they are now in a situation where there probably isn't going to be another way out. It's not because it's a first kiss-- it's because it's likely a last one-- and things are so dire that it came with supernatural cyanide.
It's the realization that Crowley really thinks Aziraphale has been fooled and Aziraphale can't bear it because he knows, deep down, that Crowley is probably right and he's embarrassed. 'Pride goeth before a fall' and all that... Aziraphale is lovely-- an absolute poppet-- but he's imperfect, just like us all. One of his worst traits is that he doubles down when he's been embarrassed as a way of trying to save face and retain pride. It's maybe his worse flaw and it gets very dangerous for him here. Crowley is no stranger to trying to stop situations where it could happen, like this paralleling time in 1941:
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Some other reasons why it's a fireball suicide pill before we get to what then happened in the elevator...
There's the fact that the show had a scene set in S2 in The Dirty Donkey-- where the elevator is. (As the start of the scene, Crowley & Aziraphale even walk through the door where the elevator will materialize at the end of S2.) Part of their conversation is very possibly Crowley recounting their first kiss-- at minimum, it's about kissing-- and then Aziraphale makes it also about balls, combining the two to, among other things, foreshadow The Final 15:
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The wordplay here is already threefold in this scene off of Crowley's joke that follows Aziraphale remembering Jane Austen's balls: balls (testicles), the phrase that x person "has balls" (is badass), and balls (of the cotillion/dancing variety). This continues into the meeting that Aziraphale hosts-- the disaster of a ball that goes straight into the end game of the season. Here's Aziraphale making yet another ball-related wordplay joke-- this one, during The Meeting Ball:
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"We're having a ball" as in they're literally having a ball-- a party-- but also the idiom "we're having a ball" meaning "we're having a great time." We are now up to four different meanings of the word 'ball' in S2, stretched across different scenes, emphasizing the importance of it. One of the missing ones still needed here to complete this idea is a literal ball-- and the ball bearing would not only meet this idea but would then make all of the ball-related wordplay have had the purpose of building towards it. We think it's building towards The Meeting Ball-- and it is-- but all of it, including The Meeting Ball, would actually then be building towards the hellfire ball, which is the actual ending of S2.
Then, there's what this all has to do with the eccles cakes...
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Yes, eccles cakes lol... Eccles cakes, as a lot of us already know, are popularly referred to as "fly cakes", off of how the currents sometimes look in them, but the significant thing here is that, despite their name, eccles cakes are not actually cakes at all-- they are really pies.
Ball bearings are also used in Good Omens' favorite metaphor of food to weigh down dough when baking pie crust. Pie weights and ball bearings are basically the same things, just put to different use. It means you literally cannot make eccles cakes from scratch without a jar of pie weights... which are just, structurally, the same thing as ball bearings... and Crowley can make them. You also make pie dough by first rolling it into a ball.
Which is likely why this hilarious moment exists:
Please hold The Cake-Pies of Symbolism, my pie (and Pi)-loving dear...
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Crowley's face at having to stand there holding some little pies 😂...
The eccles cakes-that-are-really-pies go along with this theory as well because look how the show presented the forthcoming apocalypse to us back in 2.01:
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The horse is Crowley, the rider is Aziraphale, and they're headed for Armageddon-like mental health disaster-- all ushered in by the four eccles cakes, representing Gabriel, Beez, Nina (who suggested & gave them the eccles cakes) and Maggie.
Presumably, The Lords of the Flies are the two eccles cakes that are already canoodling on the back of the plate while Maggie and Nina are the two in the foreground who are aligned but not yet together. Crowley's S2 plot is largely working at the behest of these wonderfully rebellious pies. He looks after Gabriel, finds out what happened to him and connects it all to Beez... and this is after he spent the season on his vavoomy Operation Lovebirds to get Maggie and Nina together. He's responsible for the pie crust-- the containers of the eccles cakes-- in a show obsessed with containers. Crowley is, symbolically, a jar of pie weights in being form by way of his actions-- which is suggestive of the fact that he can probably physically make them. (There's also: "Just a few million years to bake," which Crowley said of his stars-- which he made-- in the opening scene of the season.)
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"Nina, what do you sell that calms people down?"
Calm is from the Greek kauma, which means the heat of the day. Heat, as in slang for a weapon. Heat, as in hellfire. Heat, as in what's needed to bake. Heat, as in passion. Heat, as in "bringing the heat." The heat of the day-- the sunny daylight of The Final 15. Eccles cakes-- really: pies-- calm people down... they bring them heat, in every possible way, and it sets them on a path down-- to Hell.
Then, there's Agnes Nutter...
When The Witchfinder Army came to kill Agnes, she hid gunpowder (a weapon) and roofing nails (the construction-related metal that enabled it) in her dress. Agnes blew up-- she became a literal. fireball. Crowley wasn't necessarily suggesting that Aziraphale turn himself into an Agnes-like bomb in Heaven when he gave him the capsule but he was giving him a weapon involving fire with which he could kill himself if he had no other way out.
Then, there's the theme of suicide in examples from earlier in the season:
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Crowley saving Elspeth (on the night Crowley was dragged to Hell)... The bit when Aziraphale then calls Crowley from Edinburgh in the present and tells him that he's read that Dalrymple left in disgrace and killed himself... "The Bananafish" being a short story about trauma by J.D. Salinger which ends with a traumatized man suddenly killing himself... Crowley setting Gabriel up to jump from the window and then stopping him from doing it...
There's also the fact that the end of S1 was Heaven and Hell forcing Crowley and Aziraphale into forms of suicide (getting into hellfire/holy water) and the "Aziraphale" in the Heaven part of it was Crowley spitting hellfire-- at Gabriel, no less, whose story is what jumpstarts S2.
Then, there's that the song that is The Clue to everything in S2 is "Everyday", the significance of which is that it's a foundational song of American rock 'n roll. Rock 'n roll is a blend of musical styles that actually wouldn't exist without first the big band/swing that Aziraphale loves that came before it-- symbolizing how Crowley & Aziraphale paved the way for Gabriel & Beez. There's another song, though, that, like "Everyday", is from the pivotal rock year of 1957 that is equally influential and is enormously Good Omens-y, in the sense that it cleverly uses wordplay to the effect of barely disguising sexual euphemisms and often through amusingly church-y language:
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain/Too much love drives a man insane/You broke my will/But what a thrill...
Goodness gracious... great balls of fire...
[Also: less part of the theory and more just a possible nod but... "The Metatron" brought Aziraphale a coffee, there's a threat of non-existence, and Aziraphale might have gotten a 'kiss of death' from a being who is, essentially, a cherry pie lol... so, those of you who know that other greatest television show to ever television show might see a bit of a nod to Twin Peaks in here as well.]
Speaking of kisses of death... the film that popularized the word "vavoom"-- and which GO S2 is homaging all over the place-- is called 'Kiss Me Deadly.'..
So, after the kiss, Aziraphale gets the capsule and keeps it tucked into his mouth and he's gone too far with the conversation and doesn't want to admit that maybe he's wrong and Crowley is right. Crowley goes out, "The Metatron" comes back in, and Aziraphale keeps looking at Crowley staying by the car out the window and he's a bit more nervous now ("what about, um, my bookshop?"). Even if he still wants to be right, he's beginning to doubt even more that he is.
He almost tells "The Metatron" to go. He almost goes to Crowley. We see him start to say that he thinks he made a mistake but he doesn't go through with it. He's too embarrassed. Fraulein Maria can't face The Captain and is trying to run back to The Abbey over here.
Aziraphale goes out with "The Metatron" and the significant moment is this revelation: "We call it 'The Second Coming'."
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This is the moment that Aziraphale realizes for sure that he's been tricked and there is no Supreme Archangel job for him. The Metatron doesn't want to change Heaven or save anybody-- he wants to destroy the world, same as he always has-- and there's no way that he'd ever trust Aziraphale to carry that out when Aziraphale is who stopped the first round. Heaven will never admit they did wrong by Crowley-- to do so would be to collapse the system because then every demon would want to appeal their own status and demand justice and the Heaven/Hell regime would fall, in the sense that their little supernatural empire would crumble. The Metatron would never allow that and Aziraphale realizes in this moment for sure that he has been played for a sucker.
It's still possible that, at this moment, Aziraphale might still believe that this being who has tempted him with the possibility of the justice he wants for Crowley more than Crowley actually wants for himself-- and with false reassurances that he and Crowley could be together forever-- actually is The Metatron. Or, Aziraphale might be starting to get the sense of what's actually happening but, either way, he now knows that he's been fooled. He knows now that while he and Crowley both got some things wrong (suggesting they run off and proposing suddenly were not great moves on Crowley's part)... about this bit anyway? About being in danger if he believes the being who came to the door? Crowley was right.
So, Aziraphale has a choice: does he go to Crowley or does he get in the elevator, knowing now that to do so is to go to a form of death?
He can't face Crowley. He knows Crowley would forgive him and just wants him to be safe but, in the moment, Aziraphale is too ashamed and too embarrassed to admit that he was fooled and to deal with how awfully he just behaved. He's also exhausted from being hounded by the weight of his halo and Heaven for thousands of years. Negative thought cycles in overdrive-- he's never truly believed that he deserves Crowley and he has convinced himself that maybe Crowley might be better off without him. Maybe they just don't get a happy ending and maybe Aziraphale is so tired and can't run and hide anymore and just wants it to end.
Imagine spending thousands of years in service of an organization that also doubles as family and who abused you and abandoned you and who now wants to kill you... and you so hoped that change was possible that you clung to the idea beyond a point of reason-- to the point of hurting the one you love, with whom you have the only real love you've ever known. And you know he'd forgive you in a heartbeat because he loves you and he just wants you to be safe but you can't face him because you can't yet face yourself... that's Aziraphale deciding between Crowley and the elevator.
Aziraphale can barely glance over at Crowley and when, he does, it's also The Bentley he's looking at because he's telling the car to play Crowley their song. Crowley said "no nightingales" but Aziraphale says, in response: "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square." His last moment on Earth and he uses it to basically leave a suicide note for Crowley that says nothing but I'm sorry. I love you.
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Their song plays when Crowley starts the engine of The Bentley, which calls back to the first time they met in the Before the Beginning scene that began the season and showed how they started the engine of the universe together.
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Aziraphale might be trying to warn Crowley about Armageddon by sending an "engine trouble"-type of message or he might be calling back to when they first met or, as I suspect, he might be doing both but the show, at least, is referencing Before the Beginning here with this, whether or not Aziraphale intentionally is.
So, Aziraphale? He makes his choice. He gets into the elevator...
...and he swallows the fireball. Which we can see him do here:
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Or, as this was foreshadowed in S1 by the being whose own fall and subsequent arrival at the bookshop door set all the events in this season into motion:
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(The eerieness of the fake grin on Gabriel after seeing how it foreshadows S2 ending with Aziraphale's mad grin...)
Because, when all is said and done, this poor bastard really would have a death-by-swallowing-something story over here, wouldn't he? Can they just hurry up and destroy the Heaven/Hell system so Aziraphale can have food and sex in peace already, please? 😄
Aziraphale knew he'd been played and he didn't want to go through whatever came next. He didn't want to reach the top floor of Heaven because he knows that only forms of death await him there. They'll take his memories. They'll cast him to Hell. Being a demon is no picnic and Aziraphale has seen that in being with Crowley for so long. Satan is not exactly the biggest fan of Aziraphale and Aziraphale, better than most, knows what Satan is capable of. He doesn't want any part of that. He ingested a suicide pill to avoid being captured by the enemy.
Crowley gave him the pill because angels are not immune to hellfire. That's what made it a suicide capsule, right? It was supposed to kill him within seconds. It was supposed to be quick and relatively painless-- a way to escape the horrors that might await him. Even when Aziraphale is at his worst-- as Aziraphale was in their last scene in bookshop-- he is still a pure-of-heart, lovely being to Crowley because Crowley loves Aziraphale as he is-- imperfect. Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. It never occurred to Crowley that the capsule might fail. Why? Because Aziraphale is, always and forever, his angel.
Both Crowley and Aziraphale thought the fireball should have protected Aziraphale from pain and suffering by killing him almost instantly once he ingested it.
By that measure, Aziraphale should have burst into flames in the elevator, seconds after he swallowed the pill just after stepping inside.
But he did not.
We watch as the seconds start to tick by... and we see the realization play out on Aziraphale's face as each second that passes is another one where he's still here...
...the look gets more and more unhinged as the elevator keeps climbing until we get the slightly mad dark grin as the last shot of him before a fade to a deathly black... with Aziraphale having spent the final splitscreen since he got into the elevator on the other side of Crowley, symbolizing what's happened.
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In the elevator scene, we are watching the dawning realization play out on Aziraphale's face as the fireball doesn't work and there's only one reason why it wouldn't-- because he's no longer an angel.
Aziraphale has been sauntering vaguely downward for the season and maybe for awhile before then. He's been letting the darkness in, more and more, throughout all of S2. We have been watching his fall happen. The 'falling from a great height into a pit of boiling sulphur' part of falling? Ceremonial. An aftermath of sorts-- an additional punishment. It awaits Aziraphale when he gets off the elevator in Heaven but it's something we likely don't really need to see and never have seen in the show yet because that's not actually the main point of a fall. By the time you're literally falling from a great height, you've actually already fallen.
Aziraphale's determined-- but also just really half-mad-- final grim smile in the elevator over his understanding of what's happened is both the pain of thousands of years of religious trauma and abuse-related misery and a bit of completely unhinged I'm gonna burn this place to the fucking ground fury.
Aziraphale swallowing the capsule also parallels Gabriel having to "consume" The Fly to open it. The Fly went through Gabriel's eye and allowed him to "see"-- it give him realization and understanding by returning his memories to him. For Aziraphale, he swallows the fireball and it also gives him a kind of sight-- realization and understanding of what's happened and what's to come... all of this also in the moments before his memories (and, so, his sense of self/his life) will likely be taken from him.
(For a time-- he'll be fine eventually. *mantras* South Downs Cottage, South Downs Cottage...)
"And from his mouth go burning lamps and sparks of fire leap out." The Job quote on the matchbox. The matchbox contained the fly-- it's the equivalent to the ball bearing containing hellfire. Works now on several different levels but one of them then is: And from his mouth (Crowley's mouth/the kiss/the fireball/Aziraphale swallowing the fireball)...
...go burning lamps (the light that goes out in the bookshop when Aziraphale is in the elevator)...
...and sparks of fire leap out. Several meanings:
Literal sparks-- in that Aziraphale can now spit hellfire, like how Crowley did in his body in Heaven in S1.
Sparks of fire leaping out, in the sense that Aziraphale has made the leap-- he is a demon now.
Lastly, though... sparks of fire leap out... as in, Hell (and Heaven) hath no fury like this very, very, very pissed off Angel of the Eastern Gate whose whole thing is freeing those imprisoned by corrupt systems...
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Visually paralleling the elevator with a grey wall behind him and light/darkness alternately striping Aziraphale is the 'Aziraphale and God' scene in 1.03, setting up its sister elevator scene in 2.06, where Aziraphale realizes that he has been tempted by Satan and has fallen. (Ironically, a realization about having fallen that happens while going Up in an elevator.)
God: "Aziraphale. (dryly) Angel of the Eastern Gate. Where is the flaming sword I gave you, Aziraphale?"
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Aziraphale, unintentionally foreshadowing the fuck out of the plot:
"...must have put it down here somewhere."
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Yeah. 😉 Give 'em hell, Aziraphale.
Bonuses:
The awning of a new age/Dawning of a New Age joke. An understanding/a daybreak that begins a new era...
"Oh, listen, I think it's about to happen-- the 'awning' of a new age." Yes, indeed, Crowley. A dawning of a new age was imminent...
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...and, finally, if you substitute 'Aziraphale' for his parallel of 'Job' in these sentences, Bildaddy summarized the season endgame quite nicely in 2.02:
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Elevator problems in Monaco
Charles Leclerc x reader
Summary: You get stuck in the elevator with your neighbor and everybody's crush, Charles Leclerc.
Author's Note: In this story, there is no use of "Y/N" there is poorly translated French; only a few words. And contains 413 words.
Masterlist
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How often do you need to fantasize about someone before it is considered strange? I mean, it's not every day, but often enough that I consider it to become strange. Luckily, if you can consider it lucky, there are enough people always looking at him. Is it strange to become possessive of your kind of acquaintance-slash-neighbor? I don't think it's strange for me to think about him; after all, he is a Formula 1 driver, and a good one at that. I mean, I can count myself lucky that I even kind of know him when I see him walking his little dog.
Besides seeing him walking around the hall of her complex gives me extra views of his everyday life to fantasize about. But these are thoughts I shouldn't be having, especially not when I am in the elevator with him. Although he doesn't help with how in love he looks with his dog and the look he has right now, like he just came out of bed. And right now he is giving me the look like I am one of his crazy fans who just screamed 'Sign my boobs, Charles Leclerc.'
Tout va bien?! Alright, brain, don't freak out; he just asked you a question in a language you don't understand. Which you should be able to understand if you just didn't keep on skipping your Duolingo French lessons. After all, who lives in Monaco without speaking French? Rich assholes. Shit, you became a rich asshole who doesn't answer people. I try to smile friendly at him; it feels more like a grimace. Je ne parle pas français.
Ding! The sound of my dreams. I try to really smile at him this time while he looks at me like he still wants to say something and run like Usain Bolt right to my apartment. As I close my door, I realize that I have never looked pretty while I run and that he most definitely thinks I am a crazy person. After my freak out, I realize I went outside with a purpose and that I didn't even get off downstairs, but that I ran out of the elevator without it having moved. I am a crazy person. Can I still go back? I mean, I need to get back; otherwise, my friends will kill me. This is not a good enough reason to miss a baby shower, even if he is deadly handsome.
As I gather up the courage to look out my door like a spy, I realize that I have never looked so stupid. But I'm so relieved that I don't see him standing there that I want to scream. I walk over to the lift that is still open. Luckily enough, no one is inside, including my handsome neighbor, as I click on the button to go downstairs. I realize the lift is not moving, so I click another time, and another time. The lift is broken he says. I shriek and turn around while he smiles and giggles. I try to smile all the while, attempting not to freak out about the fact that I just shrieked at my crush and try to formulate a response.
"Seriously?!" He laughs again. "Yes, I just called maintenance, but I think today will be a stairs day, Mon cheri."
Now, you wouldn't think that would be a problem until you realize that we live on the 20th floor. "Wait, Mon cheri?" What does Mon cheri mean? He smirks this time and says, "How about I take you out for dinner when you figure out what it means? That way, you don't have to stare or run away from me anymore."
Somebody sedate me, 'Is Charles Leclerc flirting with me ?' 'I think I know what it means,' I say, trying to sound confident. 'Really?' he says with a cocky smirk. 'I didn't think you knew French with what you just said in the elevator. Or are you a liar, neighbor?' I scoff while he laughs with that stupid cute smirk, and I realize he is challenging me and I don't have a master plan. I mean, I don't speak French. He is looking at me expectantly, and I think, 'Fuck it.' I walk over to him and kiss him.
The next thing I know, I wake up to the sound of ticking on the floor and an arm around my middle. I sit up fast and look around my room until I notice the ticking was coming from the most adorable-looking dog I have ever seen. But then, I remember this dog, and most definitely the red gloves that lay in the room. As I panic, I quickly look to the side. The arm around my middle moves, and Charles sits up and says, 'Good morning, mon cheri.' I exhale and reply, 'Good morning,' with a smile, then lay back down and grab my phone, only to realize that I messed up greatly and missed the baby shower.
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apdreadful · 23 hours
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Anyone saying that Tommy is just convenient, he’s just a stepping stone, or Buck is confused and projecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. Denial is not a river in Africa.
Buck didn’t just roll out of bed one morning and decide “I am declaring myself to be bisexual! And starting today, I’m looking for a guy”
Buck has ALWAYS been bisexual. So the whole time we have known Evan Buckley, he has been attracted to men.
However, it’s very likely had never really sat with and processed what to do about that attraction prior to meeting Tommy. Never acted on it prior to Tommy. Never made it as obvious to anyone before Tommy.
In retrospect, the signs were definitely there, before Tommy.
The catalyst for the change? Is Tommy.
He made the conscious decision to go see Tommy when he had no damn reason to. He wasn’t thinking of leaving the 118, he just wanted a reason to see him again. I don’t think Buck actively processing “I want to date this man” he just wanted “something” and Tommy was part of that something. But he had no damn idea how to get his brain wrapped around what exactly he was planning to do with those feelings “Huh, this is more…what do I do now?” Hence the basketball game.
And I don’t know if it was before Tommy came over or if seeing Tommy standing there in his apartment made those pieces finally click into place for Buck.
(Personally I’m leaning toward that “Well not at the same time” response to teaching him Muay Thai. Because there was no mistaking THAT look that Tommy gave him)
Because if you have ever been into someone and are even the tiniest bit queer, you saw that dance for exactly what it was.
The subtle signs, the shifting in atmosphere, the carefully chosen words, way their bodies started mirroring each other as they moved closer.
Tommy having more experience with this dance, started getting the inkling this may be going SOMEWHERE...So he took that chance and dropped the “Well probably not at the same time”with THAT look. That look was a whole sentence.
Now Buck’s awakening bisexuality, understood that look. And those butterflies starting flying and he stepped right up and said “I have been trying to get your attention”
He decided THIS man. Right here. Is the one that I want enough- choose to just lay it all out for.
Now for any baby bi THAT is a big damn leap. Because you think you know..But you don’t have the experience to know if you’re reading the signs right.
Brass Tacks my lovelies is..
Buck wanted Tommy..he wasn’t entirely sure for what. But he knew it was Tommy specifically.
And if you think he’s projecting his feelings about Eddie onto Tommy. Go back and look at that first episode Eddie shows up at the 118 in.
Buck wanted to be in that firefighter calendar, and he saw Eddie as competition to getting that which he wanted. Eddie was his competition. Did he recognize that he was competition because he also looked hot af?
Yep.
So when Tommy catches Bucks interest, once again Buck finds himself in competition against Eddie for the thing he wants, which this time is Tommy’s attention. And because Eddie is his best friend, and he knows Eddie is awesome. In Bucks head, Eddie is worthy competition for Tommy’s attention. It doesn’t matter that Eddie isn’t interested in Tommy the same way Buck is.
If it were Eddie that Buck really wanted, why tf hadn’t he asked Eddie to teach him Muay Thai? They’ve been friends for years. Why had Buck not been interested in the basketball game prior to Tommy’s appearance??
Buck is bi. And it was the hot dish casserole that is Tommy Kinard that made all those little “huh” moments click into “well that’s makes sense” place.
So stop playing at being flat earthers.
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myauntspen · 2 days
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I wasn’t going to read Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach because I don’t like the effect that long fics have on my life. And everyone is so effusive about it that I knew this one would take over, divert my attention, and generally get my brain in a choke-hold.
But I was weak and thought “Just read the first few paragraphs, maybe I won’t even like it.”
Reader, I liked it. Now I’m about to start Chapter 4 and this fucking story can do what it likes with me, with my life and my productivity. It is so. Fucking. Good.
I’m not even halfway through but, dear lord!
@mouseonamoose doesn’t need the help of my little blog to bring even more droves to this juggernaut but it’s so amazing I’m posting the link anyway!
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solefae · 2 days
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GURL first off i literally LOVEEEE UUUUUU OMGGGGGGGGG. but love n stuff aside🫶🏾
I JUST RLLY RLLY NEED A BRAT TAMING FANFIC WITH JEYBAE😩 U CAN DO IT HOWEVER U WANT (also could u include some shower sex..) ANYWAYS IM GONNA GO NOW SO PLEASE AND THANK YOU🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾- 🍭
TROUBLE. jey uso
SUMMARY ── You been in a bratty mood all day, testing Jey's patience to its limit. When you take it too far with you’re attitude, Jey decides it's time to put you in your place.
AWWW ILYT BABYY 🤍!!!! and u asked and u shall receive… 🤭
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"Girl, I swear to God..." Jey muttered under his breath as he watched her flounce about the kitchen, deliberately making as much noise as possible.
She knew he had an important call in five minutes but was doing everything in her power to be as disruptive as possible. Clanging pots, slamming cabinets, singing off-key - the whole works.
Her attitude had been out of control all day, from back-sassing him that morning to rudely blowing off his attempts at conversation. Jey was at the end of his rope with her bratty ass behavior.
When the timer dinged loudly right as his meeting was supposed to start, that was the final straw. In two large strides he crossed over and shut off the oven timer with more force than necessary.
"Alright, enough is enough." Jey turned to pin her with a stern glare. "What the hell has gotten into you today, girl?"
She frowned petulantly, avoiding his eyes. "Nothing, I'm fine."
"Bullshit." He grasped her elbow firmly. "You been pissing me off on purpose all damn day with this attitude. I'm not playing your games no more."
Jerking her arm away, she shot back hotly. "I didn't ask you to! God, get off my back already."
A dangerous glint entered Jey's eyes at the blatant disrespect. His voice dropped an octave. "Watch your tone with me, girl."
She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, obviously not getting the message. Big. Mistake.
In a flash Jey had her pinned against the fridge, hands gripping her hips bruisingly. She gasped but he silenced any retort with a searing kiss, dominating her mouth completely.
When he pulled back she was breathless and wide-eyed, arousal pooling faster than she cared to admit. Jey's hands slid under her ass to hoist her up provocatively.
"You've been asking for this all day, teasing me non-stop." He spoke low and dirty right against her lips.
With that ominous promise hanging between them, he carried her off to the bedroom, intent on taming his wild little brat once and for all.
Stripping her clothes off efficiently, Jey stood back to admire her naked form hungrily. She squirmed under his intense gaze, nipples pebbling in the cool air.
"On the bed, hands and knees. Ass up high." He commanded gruffly, already shedding his own layers. Always so big on following orders, she complied eagerly.
Calloused palms dragged up her thighs to spread her cheeks, boldly delving between folds from behind. She jerked at the unexpected contact, already slick and ready for him.
"My, my, someone's excited." Jey's low chuckle made her tremble. His thick finger circled her clit teasingly before plunging inside, crooking just right to brush that spot.
Her walls squeezed instinctively at the delicious pressure. Soft whimpers escaped with each pump, greedy for more sensation. Two fingers scissored her open deftly, working her up with practiced ease.
"You like that? My fingers feel good inside that tight pussy?" He murmured crudely, loving the way she shuddered at his filthy words.
She couldn't form a reply, brain reduced to mush under his skilled touch. All she knew was the desperate hunger building low in her gut, spiraling ever tighter.
Jey spread her further with his free hand, leaning down to swipe his tongue up the seam of her ass. She keened loudly at the new stimulation, so sensitive already from his fingering.
Heated breaths ghosted over her soaked folds as he spoke. "So wet for me, girl. Bet you'd like my dick buried deep too though, wouldn't you?"
"P-please, Jey..." she sobbed, unable to take anymore teasing. She needed him inside, filling her up completely.
He chuckled darkly, hot breath fanning her arousal. "All in good time baby, I'm just gettin' started." With that ominous warning he delved his tongue into her quivering hole, driving her mad.
She was coming undone within seconds, walls clamping down on his fingers hard as waves of bliss crashed over her. But Jey wasn't letting up, relentless in wringing every last drop of ecstasy from her trembling form.
By the time he finally pulled away she could barely hold herself up, limp and sated. Jey shifted back, admiring his handiwork with clear satisfaction.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" He cupped her ass possessively, massaging the reddened skin. "Betcha that attitude all gone now too?"
She couldn't form words, only nodding weakly in agreement. His praise and manhandling had transformed her bratty mood completely. All that was left was a hot, submissive mess craving more.
Jey chuckled, running soothing palms up her back. "You ain't done learning yet though, girl. Bathroom, now."
She scrambled unsteadily to obey, brain fogged with endorphins. What fresh torment did he have in store now? Her core clenched deliciously at the thought.
Under the spray of scalding water he crowded her against slick tile, hands roaming everywhere all at once. His arousal jutted proudly between them, making her mouth water to taste.
"Suck." Was all the command Jey gave before guiding himself past her kiss-swollen lips. She moaned around his girth, hollowing her cheeks to take him in deeper.
Water cascaded over them as he began pumping in a steady rhythm, hitting the back of her throat leisurely. One large hand tangled in her hair to hold her still for his relentless pace.
Saliva and precum dripped down her chin to mix with the water washing over their passionate tableau. She swallowed around him eagerly, loving the powerful way he used her mouth for his pleasures.
His thrusts grew erratic, cock throbbing heavy on her tongue. "Fuck, that's it girl. Take it."
With a vicious jerk of his hips he came down her throat, groaning loudly as she sucked him through the aftershocks. Only when he was completely spent did he let her pull off, panting and gazing up adoringly.
Jey hauled her up for a demanding kiss, tasting himself on her lips with obvious satisfaction. "Now it's your turn again, beautiful."
He spun her around, bending her forward over the glass shelving. The cold surface did little to soothe her fiery skin as he spread her wide once more.
This time when he breached her entrance there was no teasing, driving home in one deep thrust. A strangled cry tore from her throat at the delicious fullness.
"You feel so fuckin' good baby, so tight and wet for me." Jey praised gruffly, already setting a brutal pace.
His hips snapped forward powerfully, plunging deeper on each stroke to brush that heavenly spot inside. She was falling apart around him within minutes, walls sucking him in greedily.
Jey groaned loudly, pistoning his hips at a brutal pace through her climax. The sound of skin slapping wetly mingled with their mingled shouts echoing off marble tile.
It wasn’t long before his own release hit, pulsing hot ropes of cum inside her as he growled out curses. They slumped together under the spray, coming down slowly from their high.
Turning within his strong embrace, she kissed along his stubbled jaw sweetly. “Thank you daddy….”
Jey chuckled, nuzzling her fondly. “Anytime, ma. You know I’ll always set your ass straight.” His hands slid down to massage her cheeks tenderly.
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taglist aka my loves! ⇩
@blacst4r @truefant4sy
@yeaiamme2 @cody-uso
@riverina69 @christinabae
@shantinextdoor @empressdede
@paigereeder @bebesobrielo
@butterfi1es @jstarr86 @femdisa @shes2real
(lemme know if you want to be added/removed!) 🤍✨
©solefae.
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WIBTA if I told my mom that my dad might be a murderer?
So I (14F) have an odd set of parents, to put it kindly. For the past year and a half or so, my father (58M) has been leaving, using drugs and being very angry when he comes back. (He doesn't usually yell at/do anything to me, so don't be concerned for my safety. I have people to go to.) He's been yelling at my mother (54F) about this man, I'll call him "D" (I don't know his age, I've never heard of or met him prior to this) and how she cheated on my father with him 12 years etc. And then he was yelling about how D was dead and she probably went to the funeral and.. whatever other nonsense.
My mother told me what happened the night he's accusing her of cheating. They were at the bar [my parents used to own a bar] and my mother didn't want my father to get drunk. He's a violent drunk. So, she asked D to stay with her, thinking that he wouldn't be like that in front of a guy that he respected. She was wrong. He kicked her out, and got in a fight with D. She left with her father, got a call from the hospital about my father having like a 4.0 bac and that was that.
I was telling my brother (35M) about this and he was really surprised. He knew D, and that he was a nice guy, and he knew how he died.
Brain trauma from being beaten up ≈ 12 years ago.
It didn't sound like D got in a lot of fights - my brother certainly was surprised when he heard the cause of death - so it was probably my dad. It makes sense why he's made such a big deal out of it, and was especially bad the day he (D) died.
My mother told me not to tell my brother anything that goes on in our house. I don't want them to have even more tension than they do, especially right now because she's sick (ckd, end stage, if that matters. she's got a couple years) and also - I don't think it would do anything. She already keeps evidence "just in case he kills her" so I don't think telling her would help. I also kind of want to tell her. I don't know. Would it be an asshole move?
(Obviously I know I don't have hard evidence against my dad, so I wouldn't state it as fact, just my theory.) anyway, 🙃 to find later.
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elllisaaa · 23 hours
Note
eli, i’m having jake thoughts… 💭
jake and corruption kink, but you’re the one corrupting him <3
omgg yes the jake thoughts are coming back ! your brain dinna… your brain is fantastic !
JAKE + CORRUPTION KINK who had some experience before you became his girlfriend, but it was mainly classic, vanilla sex. he knew deep down that he wanted more, that he needed more to truly get off, but he was too ashamed to talk about it with his previous girlfriends.
it all started approximately two months after you started fooling around with your new boyfriend. you noticed that he was quite soft and loving whenever he was fucking you, and you didn't want to force him into something he didn't want, and without having talked it out with him beforehand. one time when he was going down on you, you grabbed his hair a little too hard, tugging on it unconsciously, he let out a moan against your clit that made you cum on the spot.
jake never brought it up again, so neither did you. but he couldn't help thinking back about it again and again, wishing you could pull his hair again, harder this time maybe. but he was too embarrassed to tell you that, and he didn't want to creep you out. though you weren't creeped out at all, and you wanted to test your theory about him liking it a little more rough sometimes.
so you took the opportunity that you were riding him and that jake had nuzzled his head in your neck to pull on his hair again, forcing him to look at you. and again, he moaned loudly, his hands gripping your hips harder as he started to buck up into your cunt. "you liked that baby boy ?" - "f-fuck yes, yes i love it !" - "want me to do it again ?" - "please, yes !" so you did it again until he cummed inside of you.
the aftercare was filled with a lot of talking, of course, because you wanted to understand to what extent you could play with him. "so, you love it when i'm more rough, right ?" jake only nodded, his cheeks burning red and doing everything he could to not look you in the eyes. but you grabbed him by his jaw, turning his head upward so he would finally meet your gaze. "do not feel shy about it baby, especially not with me, i won't judge you for what you like okay ?" - "it's just… i've never done any of these things before but i feel like i would like it."
he was so cute, shying away from your gaze everytime you asked him if he wanted to try this or that the next time. it was a lot, and you knew it, but this new territory to explore with him turned you on so bad. when jake knew nothing about all these things, you knew everything and you were here to teach him what he liked, he just didn't know it yet.
"remember that you have to tell me what you want me baby boy." jake nodded, already feeling his orgasm approaching. "i-i want you to choke me, please y/n…" you smiled and gave him a quick peck before your hand wrapped around his throat, making stumble over his own thank you's. "you're so good to me, you're becoming my perfect little slut right ?" - "y-yeah ! only for you."
your smile turned into a wide smirk when you realized that it was all going according to your plan : you were training jake to be your fucktoy, and you both equally loved the feeling of getting dirtier each time you fucked.
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yelenasdiary · 2 days
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hi!!
with this new yelena content, i have a "sort of" request??
i mean, i have like a phrase that buzzes in my head, a phrase that if it were said to Yelena the entire fandom would break down in pain.
so, the quote is this: "i want to be able to worry about you"
it is possible, even in the future, to have a fanfiction or even a short one shot with yelena x r, and r says this to Yelena?
the context of why that phrase is said I would leave up to you to decide :)
(or maybe all this only makes sense in my head, idk lol)
Drunken Sober Thoughts
Pairing: Yelena Belova x GN! Reader.
Summary: When Kate's birthday party comes to an end, you and Yelena find yourselves alone.
Angst, Fluff.
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, Mentions of death, Reader has dark thoughts. This is not proof read or corrected | 0.8K
AC: I loved this idea, I hope you enjoy it! x
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Red and blue plastic cups littered the rooftop of Kate's studio apartment, the young Avenger had just celebrated her 24th birthday and threw a little party with her closest friends. Kate has been one of your closest friends since you recruited her to the team, and although you were a few years older than her, you've seen her more as a little sister than anything else. 
She introduced you to Yelena shortly after she had joined the new Avengers team, you already had some kind of background on Yelena from Clint but the two of you seemed to grow close quickly. 
"What's going on inside of the big, smart brain of yours?" Yelena's accent brought your thoughts back to reality as she took a seat down next to you, the two of you now looking over the city of New York. You took a sip of your drink and smiled softly, "nothing new" you replied. 
Your comment made Yelena frown, "come on, you talk to me" she said, placing her red cup beside her. "You've been a little distant recently and I know you don't like to worry Kate but she's worried too" the blonde added. You couldn't help but sigh to yourself. "You don't have to worry about me, nor does Kate" you replied before taking another sip of your drink.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Yelena spoke again, "you know, you remind a lot of Natasha sometimes" she said, looking over at you. 
"Natasha was a very smart and respected woman" you replied, looking back at her. 
"Yes, but she too was closed off. Although I only got to spend a little time with her, she was happy. You gave her a family when she needed one and now your family has retired but you haven't?" Yelena questioned, "why not?" she added. 
You shrugged, "I guess, outside of being an Avenger, I have nothing. An empty home, nothing to keep my mind from replaying everything that ever happened in my life plus, Kate keeps me busy" 
"You're hiding" Yelena said, taking a sip of her drink once more.
"Hiding?" You questioned with a frown. Yelena nodded, "you're using this new Avengers team as an excuse to let yourself be happy" 
You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, "trust me, I am not someone that somebody wants to come home to every night" 
"I do" Yelena said softly. 
You looked over at Yelena to find her already looking you in the eyes. The look in her eyes told you everything, a simple look and you knew what she was about to say. "Yelena" you started.
"I know, I know what you're going to say and you can try to tell me just how much you don't think you're worth it but I want to be able to worry about you, I want to be able to come home to you, I want to see the world with you, to take you out for dates and do all those little things that love so much. 
I don't want to waste what is the rest of my life letting my past control what I do and how I feel, I've had feelings for you since that day you came to Nat's tombstone on her birthday. You left her favorite flowers you didn't leave the site until you knew I was okay. We had only met twice, and you had it in your heart to be there so a stranger. I think about that day a lot" she explained. 
Your mind went back to that day, Yelena sat with Nat for hours. You didn't mind waiting and making sure she would be okay, after all, you promised Nat that you would be there for her whenever she needed, and something told you that day that Yelena needed somebody to watch over her. 
"You would've done the same" you replied. 
Yelena shook her head, "if I didn't know you, no I wouldn't" she replied honestly. 
"Yelena, you're probably just drunk, you don't mean any of this" you added, rising from your seat, "it's late, I should probably make sure Kate isn't chocking on her own vomit" you added. 
Before you knew it, Yelena had a grip on your wrist, not a hard grip but even to make you stop trying to walk away from her. She pulled you closer to her, never breaking her eye contact with you, "I can handle my vodka, but I can't bare another moment without you" she spoke softly before kissing you deeply. You dropped the plastic cup in your hand, letting it hit the ground and splashing your drink as you found yourself wrapping your arms around the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. 
You pulled away for air as a tear rolled down your cheek, Yelena smiling softly as she wiped it away with her thumb, "don't worry about Kate, she's been drinking punch for the last two hours" she said, making you chuckle. 
"You're not going to reject this in the morning, right?" You asked as worry filled your eyes. 
"Not in a million years" Yelena replied.
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storiesofsvu · 2 days
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Decadent Desires Ch 3
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Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, minor political conversation, minor mentions of sexual encounters.
It was the sound of your coffee pot automatically brewing that originally roused you from sleeping, the beeping signalling it was done the reason you finally got out of bed. Traipsing down the stairs still in your silk pj set you yawned, starting to stretch out your body, dropping your phone on the breakfast bar before padding through the living room to open the blinds. The sun slowly rising through the sky and you deemed it warm enough to crack one of the windows, letting yourself actually get some fresh air on a work day. Wandering back to the kitchen you pulled down a coffee mug, adding a bit of creamer from the fridge before filling it with coffee. Right as you went to take your first sip, your phone buzzed on the countertop and you let out a huff, scooping up the device to a text from Heather.
‘You can work from home, it’s a low day.’
‘Thank god. I really didn’t want to put real clothes on.’
‘Well you’ll have to at some point. You’ve got lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill at two.’
‘Who am I schmoozing for you?’
‘Emily Prentiss.’
‘The fed from yesterday? What’d’ you need with the FBI?’
‘She asked to meet with you. You’ll have to discuss it with her.’ ‘Put it on my card.’
‘Alright. Thanks.’
‘Wear that Tom Ford blouse I like so much.’
‘The blue one?’
‘It brings out your eyes.’
‘I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives going on here...’
‘Enjoy your lunch.’
You dropped the phone back onto the counter with a huff, knowing you weren’t getting another word out of her on the subject. It wasn’t unlike Heather to send you in to do a certain level of dirty work when it came to getting other politicians to do what she wanted. It was technically part of your job, she would simply just suggest you use your assets in a way she couldn’t to get them to lean her way, and it almost always worked. Still, you couldn’t possibly imagine what a Section Chief from the FBI would want with your skill set, surely the bureau had their own type of publicists to deal with whatever kind of a situation this was.
You glanced to the clock above the stove to find it was barely eight o’clock and nearly debated going back to bed but you knew that was a bad idea and turned to your coffee instead. You thought about what to do for breakfast while you grabbed your work phone and laptop from your bag, setting them up on the breakfast bar before opening the fridge. You settled on some easy eggs and avocado on toast and restarted the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, turning on an instrumental playlist on your phone to get your day going and your brain running.
Finished with the food, you refilled your coffee and settled in at the counter to start sorting through emails, shooting one off to Heather with reminders of all the upcoming week’s appointments, meetings and appearances. The rest of the morning felt rather dull, the anticipation of lunch piquing your curiosity more often than not, sending you down spirals rather than focusing on your actual work. You caught yourself leafing through FBI websites and any news articles you could get your hands on, and considering the status you held, that was more than the general public.
Finally around eleven thirty your brain couldn’t get through another email and you opted to jump over to the gym for a quick workout to distract yourself for a bit. You left more than enough time to shower, making sure you were fresh and styled, selecting the blue blouse Heather had recommended before finally leaving your house.
Old Ebbitt Grill wasn’t far, it only took you ten minutes to get there, especially considering the lack of midafternoon traffic. You’d been there a few times before, a standard choice for business lunches among the elite of Washington, close enough to Capitol Hill that it was convenient but just far enough away that it was slightly more away from eavesdropping ears. You pulled up the drive in front and were offered valet service that you accepted, passing off a five for a tip before heading inside where you were greeted by a young bubbly hostess.
“Hi,” you smiled back, “reservation at two, could be under Walton, Prentiss or Dunbar. I think it’s only for two.”
Her finger began scanning through the reservation look in search of one of the names, “oh! There you are.” She beamed up at you, “Walton for two. You’re the first to arrive, would you like to wait or be seated?”
“I’ll sit.” You laughed softly, “god knows I could use a drink.”                                                    
“Of course, right this way.”
You were led past the bar area to the dining room and directed to a green velvet back booth, white table cloth adorning the table. You slid in as the hostess scooped up the extra place settings and wine glasses,
“Can I get something started for you?”
“Uh… two waters and a glass of pinot grigio would be fantastic, thanks.”
With another smile she was gone from the table and you were left to settle in, glancing at your watch you realized you were practically twenty minutes early and let out a soft sigh. Punctuality was almost too much of your strong point, but at least you were never late for things. You scanned the menu quickly, sliding it off to the side to pull out a work file that you’d been putting off looking through, thanking the server that came back with your drinks.
*
When Emily entered the restaurant she wasn’t entirely too sure what she was getting into, it almost felt weird to be doing this during the day, especially on what was technically a work day. She’d gotten an out of office lunch and work from home afternoon approved so she didn’t have to drive back, and it was Friday so she just kept telling herself it was an early weekend. The hostess picked up right away that she was meeting someone and offered up your last name to confirm before guiding her through the room.
The moment they were through the bar Emily had eyes on you, neatly tucked into a booth, a pen in your hand and a file folder in front of you that all your attention was focused on. Your hair was pulled back off your face but most of it still down and loosely styled. The make up on your face was slightly more detailed than it had been when she’d met you at the office, a little heavier around the eyes, a slightly less neutral lip. Your outfit hugged your frame, accentuating your body perfectly, blue top dipping slightly to expose a tasteful amount of cleavage, black pencil skirt leaving just enough leg out to be admired, and of course designer heels on your feet. It was all accented with a silver bracelet, necklace resting on the swell of your chest and jeweled earrings to match your shirt. You glanced up at the movement coming toward you, a smile taking over your face as you greeted her.
“Agent Prentiss,” you smiled as she slipped into the booth, “or, is that a demotion? Should it be Section Chief Prentiss?”
“That’s way too much of a mouthful.” She laughed, “just Emily’s fine.”
“Alright.” You shot her a grin, flipping the file shut and capping the pen before you slid it back into your purse, “sorry, work never ends.”
“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” While she was concerned she may have been late, she was happy to see that you were completely content on your own, and that you took work on the go, already another green flag in her book.
“Oh not at all, I have a habit of being insanely early wherever I go.”
There was a slight pause as the server came over to ask about drinks and Emily glanced towards you, your eyes flicked to your half empty glass and you thought about it for a second.
“You may as well bring another one.”
“Heather okay with you drinking on the clock?” Emily asked with a small grin.
“Have you met a politician who doesn’t?” You laughed, “you know… I think that’s the biggest difference between our branches of government, you’re usually armed. The only weapons we carry are our words and nefarious blackmail.”
Emily chuckled at that, watching as you took a sip, “well I took a half day.” She turned to the server, “I’ll have a sauvignon blanc please.”
A few moments later they returned with Emily’s wine and the two of you placed an order for a round of appetizers consisting of scallops, beet and burrata, calamari and the bread service. Conversation flowed easily enough, chatting here and there about the day, how the weather seemed to finally be warm enough to enjoy being outside, little tidbits about work. Emily found joy in the fact that you could keep up with her when she mentioned work, that it didn’t take an extra three tangents of explaining details for you to understand what she meant. By the time the food came out, the two of you were fully comfortable around each other and after a bite of a scallop, you decided to make the jump to attempt to get to the point.
“So, I know I’ve heard that the BAU’s in a bit of hot water right now, but I didn’t think you needed a full PR takeover. Don’t you have your own communications team for those kind of things?”
Emily stalled, quickly popping a piece of calamari into her mouth to spare her a few seconds to figure out how to start things. “Uhm….” She swallowed the food down, chuckling awkwardly, “that’s not exactly why I wanted to meet. Heather… recommended you for something else.”
“Ah…” You leant back against the booth, your elbow draping over the back of it, “I knew Heather had ulterior motives about today but I didn’t realize she was passing me off to utilize the extra skill set.” You chuckled, having now figured out exactly what Emily was alluding to, but you weren’t going to let her off that easy, you wanted to hear her say it. The corner of your lips twitched up at the way she tensed across the table from you and you went in with another tease and false lead. “You want to know what other PR teams I’m close with, whose assistants have loose lips or an axe to grind, dig up a little dirt on someone. Director Bailey? AG? Who’s the thorn in your side, hmm?”
The knot in her stomach burst at the latter part of your sentence, suddenly distracted she glanced up at you with a furrowed brow, “wait, you could really get in with the AG for me?”
“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of wine, “she thinks she’s a good friend, would you like me to do some nosing around?”
“No, no.” She waved you off, “that could get you in trouble.”
“Emily, believe me, with most of them all you need is a few too many glasses of wine, a little flattery, maybe a hint of an illegal substance and they’ll tell you whatever you want.”
She let out a low laugh, “I’m going to ignore that last part.” You chuckled as she picked up her wine, taking another sip while you scooped up another scallop. “You certainly have some kind of pedigree, don’t you?”
“I had a lot of ladders to climb to get where I am now, and a decent education and quick thinking always helps.”
“Was PR always the goal, or did you have your eye on Capitol Hill?” She asked and you nearly snorted.
“Where I am is where I want to be. Communications Major at UCONN, followed by a stint at Georgetown.”
“What does a ‘stint’ consist of?” She asked with a raised brow.
“Just a little law degree, never really intended to use it just wanted the knowledge.”
“Did you write the bar?”
“Mmhm.” You nodded, taking another sip of wine, “passed with flying colours. Just never really saw myself as a lawyer, fighting in courtrooms isn’t my style.”
“So why bother with the extra three years then?”
You shrugged, “Heather paid for it. Said if I was overqualified for a role I could bargain for better pay.”
“Wow…” Emily’s eyes widened, “she must really like you.”
“We’ve known each other a long time. She always knew she wanted me working for her in some capacity and she needed someone who she could trust, someone who was going to know what they were doing and was right for the field. When you work for Dunbar you have to fit the brand. Now making sure that brand is upheld is my job, she had to start with someone.”
“You enjoy working for her? She’s a good boss?”
“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “being on her payroll is better than any other politician in the country, maybe even the world. She has a much higher level of expectations that always need to be met, she knows quality, she knows class and she demands it out of everyone. So she supplements with extras to make sure we know how appreciated we are and to keep us loyal.”
“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”
“She always does.” You leant forward, bracing your elbow on the table so your chin could rest in the palm of your hand, “which is why I know whatever she suggested I help you with is exactly what you need. But I’m starting to feel like I have to sign an NDA to even have this conversation.”
Emily sucked in a deep breath letting out a sigh before reaching for her wine glass, “well… I am hoping for a certain level of discretion and the previous couple of times I’ve tried this it didn’t exactly work in my favour.” She glanced back across the table to find your head still perched on your hand, eyes full of curiosity as you looked back at her and she nearly gulped.
“Do tell… what is it you want from me Agent Prentiss?” Your voice was lowered, both an attempt to get her to own up and to make sure you weren’t overheard, “I work in PR, I know how to uphold an image and believe me, I know how to keep a secret.”
She swallowed down a gulp of wine before slowly beginning to speak, “I’m… looking for someone who is willing to spend a night or two a week together, could be friendly company, could be more if you’re comfortable. And I’m willing to pay.” She winced, suddenly stopping herself, “wait, that sounded bad.”
You chuckled softly, smiling across the table at her to urge her to continue.
“Basically, I’ve got a bit of spare time and extra finances. I need someone who understands I can’t always be around, that work can and will upend plans constantly and suddenly. Someone who values privacy. I don’t have time to do the whole dating thing, the strings that come along with that.”
“Casual intimacy in exchange for fancy dinners, pricey jewels and lavish vacations?” You murmured softly, your head tilting in her direction and she nodded, “well… now we’re finally on the same page.”
“And you’re comfortable with that?”
Your eyes slowly raked over her, taking in her beauty, a small grin on your lips as you nodded, “Mmhm.”
“And the stipulations that come along with my work?”
“Not an issue. As you know, I have my own career and working for Heather can be a twenty four seven, seven days a week job and similar to yours, it includes a lot of travel. Discretion is easily attainable and I know how to uphold a certain image.”
“Good.” She let out a low huff of a laugh, “the last couple of dates I went on before this were garbage.”
“Mmm… I think you likely got caught with the ‘professional’ babies… they don’t want to work; they just want to get paid for being hot.” You rolled your eyes, “they don’t care about careers, they want to be center of attention at all times.”
“And lord knows I don’t have the time or patience for any of that.”
Before you could reply your phone began a series of buzzes on the table top, your eyes flicking to the lit screen and you sighed, “hold on, it’s Heather.” You picked up the device to swipe open the text chain, half muttering to yourself, “bitch said I could work from home today but god knows I can’t go twenty four hours without having to put out a fire.”
“Duty calls?” Emily asked with a near grin, watching as you finished your wine.
“Unfortunately.” You cast a smile in her direction, “and right as we were getting to the good part, sorry.”
“No apology necessary, go. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured to the table.
“Are you sure?”
“All things considered; I think it’s my responsibility.”
“Right.” You laughed softly, popping your phone back into your purse as you slid out of the booth, “you have my number?”
“I do.” She nodded, “I’ll make a reservation for next Friday, we can do dinner and discuss this further?”
“Of course.” You smiled at her, “I’ll see you Friday Emily.”
_______________
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kpop---scenarios · 13 hours
Text
Whiplash (2)
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Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin
Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 4k
Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx
Part One |
“I'm never drinking again.” You groan, rubbing your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to sooth your throbbing head. The only thing you remembered about last night was dancing with that guy and then everything goes blank. You take a deep breath in and out before your eyes shoot open. You sniff harder, smelling something delicious, wondering who was in your apartment. And then it hit you, you weren't even home. You looked around, recognizing Hyunjin's room immediately. You crawl out of his bed, your feet shuffling out the door and down the hallway, towards the delicious smell. As you get closer you can hear Felix and Hyunjin talking.
“Food always gets her up. Just wait.” Felix laughed. He knew you so well.
“This smells so good.” You groan, sitting down at the island as you watch the two make pancakes, bacon and eggs.
“I told you.” Felix says, glancing at Hyunjin.
“Good morning.” Hyunjin says, smiling at you as he slides a plate in front of you.
“Morning.” You smile, picking up your fork, ready to dig in. But you couldn't. You looked up at the two men, who were staring at you smirking.
“Do I have something on my face?” you ask, wiping your face off. Neither of them reply, they just keep cooking, glancing at you and smirking.
You take a few bites of your food, trying to ignore those two but flashes of last night keep playing in your head.
“Did I.. “ you pause. “Did I do something last night?” You ask.
Hyunjin and Felix look at each other and then back at you. “Okay, what!?” You yell.
“Maybe I need to get off too.. cause of you two!” Felix says, his voice deep, his eyes on you.
“The things I wanna do to the two of you are not platonic.” Hyunjin says.
Your fork drops as you gasp. Your hands cover your mouth as you stare at them both, your eyes wide. The memories come flooding back to you like a tidal wave and you want to actually fucking die.
“That.. I, um. Wow. Okay so I was drunk. Like really drunk. My sincerest apologies. I'm gonna go.” You mumble. You slip out of the chair quicker than you realized, slipping on your shoes and grabbing your purse and heading out the door. You could not believe you had said all that. you were gonna be embarrassed for the rest of your life. Once you had walked a couple blocks you called a cab so you could properly grieve and call Seulgi so she could talk you off the ledge.
“You said what!?” She gasps.
“Yeah.. drunk me has no sense of boundaries apparently.” You sigh.
“So what are you gonna do?” She asks.
“I'm going to handle it like a mature adult.” You declare. “And pretend it never happened.” You can hear Selgui sigh on the other end of the phone.
Once you're home, you collapse in your bed, closing your eyes while your brain replays the things you said to Hyunjin and Felix the night before. Drunk you really liked to speak your sober thoughts apparently. As embarrassed as you were, you were feeling more anxious than anything. Based on their reactions this morning you knew your friendship wasn't ruined with them, but you couldn't help but feel guilty for saying those things. What if you had made them uncomfortable? What if they started distancing themselves from you? You were a ball of stress and you weren't sure how, or if you could make things better.
You spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring any phone call and text that made your phone ring. You just wanted to wallow in your self pity for a little bit longer before facing anyone. Part of you knew it wasn't a very big deal, but the other part was mad because you had done so well to keep yourself in a platonic place with them. Finally a few hours later, and after you couldn't stand listening to the beeps and ringing of your phone anymore, you looked at it. All the messages from Felix and Hyunjin, not to mention the phone calls from them as well as from Chan, Changbin and Han begging you to come over for homemade pizza night. you decided to text Han back, letting him know that you'll be right there. You didn't wait for a reply, not that you needed to, but you got dressed and headed over to face the music.
Walking into the house, it's unusually quiet. Where were those rowdy boys? All you could hear was the low humming that was coming from the kitchen. You followed the sound, finding Felix in the kitchen, rolling out dough.
“Hey.” You smile, sitting at the island that you left in a rush only a few hours before.
“Hey you.” He grins, looking up for a second before focusing back on his dough. “The others had to run out for a bit, but we'll let the dough rise and then make the pizzas.” He tells you. You nod your head, feeling too nervous to say anything.
“Can I get you a cocktail?” He asks.
“Oh god, please.” You smile. You knew you shouldn't, but what more could you say to him? Felix quickly whips you up something delicious and you drink it far too quickly.
“Good thing I made extra.” He chuckles, filling your cup again. This time you sip on it as he works on more dough. “What's up? Why do you seem all weird?” He asks.
“What?” You question. You were acting weird, you were quiet and distant.
“Is it because of last night?” He asks, not looking up at you.
“Yeah.” You sigh. “I don't want things to be weird with the three of us.”
“Why would things be weird?” He asks, now looking at you.
“Because of what.. I, you know, said.” You mutter. Felix laughs.
“Maybe I want you to use me non platonically.” He smirks, looking up at you.
Your stomach drops. You stare at him, your mouth hanging open. “I'm.. what?” You ask. But before Felix can reply, you both hear the front door open. You turn your head to look at the entryway, and in walks Hyunjin with a smile plastered on his face.
“There's my girl.” He says, grabbing your chin. “What's going on?” He asks, looking between your shocked face and Felix.
“I think I'm dreaming.” You say, turning back to look at Felix who continues to smirk at you. You pinch your cheek, just to see, but you're not. This is real life.
“Pizza!” You can hear Changbin yell, as the rest of the boys come into the kitchen. They all hug you before standing around the island, Felix giving everyone their dough, and placing all the topping options, cheese and sauce in the middle. The rest of the night you could barely focus, Felix's words replaying in your head.
“Maybe I want you to use me non platonically.”
Was he interested in you? Was he joking? You wanted to ask him, but you didn't want to do it in front of everyone, so you left it. Later that night, as you were trying to sleep in your bed, you fell asleep to the thought of using him non platonically.
Over the next few days, you didn't see much of anyone. They said they had a lot of things going on, and you didn't question it. Sometimes they were very suspicious but you figured they were just being guys. With nothing to do, you made plans with Seulgi and a few other friends for a girls night. But of course, the night that you had plans was the night that the guys wanted to do something.
“How?” You laugh at one of the girls. “How do you manage to score four dudes in one singular night?” You ask. “I can barely get one.”
Everyone at the table laughs at your comment to Lisa. This is what you needed, a fun night out with some girls, and a guy named Mike who had tagged along. It was a good way to get your mind off of things. You took a shot from one of the bottles on the table, beginning to feel tipsy as you eat a little bit of food. You look at Seulgi who is looking at you with a weird look on her face.
“What?” You ask. Her eyes dart over to the left, you look over and see Felix and Hyunjin sitting at a table with two girls you didn't recognize. Your heart sank as you stared at the girls smiling while they're talking. You glance over at the boys, but they don't look like they're enjoying themselves as much as the girls are.
They must have felt your stare, or maybe you stared for too long, but they looked over, directly at you, and seemed shocked to see you. You gave them a slight smile and wave before turning back to your other friends. You tried to ignore them, but you could feel their eyes burning into the side of your head as you spoke, your group drunkenly trying to figure out what to do after dinner.
“Do you guys wanna go to the club?” Mike asks, looking at you. You shrug your shoulders. “I wouldn't say no to dancing there.” You smile, glancing at Felix and Hyunjin, who are now walking over to you.
“Are you guys going to the club?” Hyunjin asks, looking at you. You nod your head, your heart beating quicker. They could do nothing and your heart flutters with butterflies in your stomach.
“We'll see you there.” Felix smiles, walking out of the restaurant with the two girls and Hyunjin. You shake your head, trying to get the thought of them out of your head.
The moment you get to the club, you, Seulgi and Mike head straight for the bar. The three of you take a few shots before heading out to the dance floor, leaving Mike to sit there. You always loved dancing with girlfriends, because you never had to worry about unwanted touching. The two of you danced by yourself for a bit, until Mike decided to join you, and for some reason he had decided he wanted to dance with you. His hands grabbed your hips to pull you in close to him, but you really didn't want to. Seugli had disappeared on you, leaving you to fight him off on your own. He turns you around to face him, his hands roaming your body. You push him away, but he grabs your wrist, holding it tightly.
“I just wanna dance with you.” Mike grits through his teeth. You can see the anger bubbling up through his body.
“I don't want to dance with you. I'm sorry.” You say, trying to free your wrist from his grip.
“One dance. That's all I want. You can't tease me and then not give me what I want.” He scoffs.
“Excuse me?” You yell, pulling your wrist from his grip. “I never fucking teased you. I said no, so fucking listen.” You turn to walk away from him but he grabs you again, holding you even tighter, trying to pull you off the dance floor. You fight him with all you had but he just holds on tighter, pulling you away. Until you halt, you look up and see Hyunjin standing in front of Mike, he's angry. Your wrist is released, Felix now holding onto Mike's hand, twisting his wrist hard, causing Mike to fall to his knees.
“Don't you know what no means?” Felix asks, his voice scary as he glares at Mike. You turn and run to Hyunjin, he wraps his arms around you as he continues to stare at Mike. Felix leans down, whispering into Mike's ear. “You touch her again, I'll fucking kill you. Got it?”
Luckily you don't hear him as you nuzzle into Hyunjin's chest. Until you realize that they had dates, and they needed to get back to them. You felt guilty, it seemed like you were always getting into situations that they needed to save you from and that wasn't fair. You backed away from Hyunjin, looking sad and guilty.
“You guys have dates. They're probably looking for you.” You say, looking up at them both. “Thank you for helping me, and I'm sorry you have to keep saving me.” You whisper.
Felix and Hyunjin look at each other before looking back at you. “Don't apologize.” Hyunjin smiles.
“We'd go to war for you, baby.” Felix winks before he and Hyunjin leave to find the girls they were with. Finally Seulgi comes back, explaining she was waiting in the longest line for the bathroom.
“What happened!? Why are you crying?” She asks.
“Mike.” You sniffle. “He wanted to dance and I didn't. He got really aggressive.” Seulgi looks guilty as she listens to you.
“I'm so sorry.” She whispers, pulling you in for a hug.
“Luckily Hyunjin and Felix saved me.” You chuckle. “I don't know where Mike went off too.”
“Fuck Mike, he's banned from the group now.” She says. “Where did Felix and Hyunjin go?” She asks.
“I sent them back with their dates.” You say. She nods her head.
“What do you wanna do?” She asks. “Stay or go?”
“I'm gonna go. But you stay. Honestly, I just need some air. I'm gonna walk home. I promise I'll be fine. I'll call you when I'm home.” You say, giving a slight smile. She hugs you tightly, and watches you walk out of the club.
You really didn't want to call a cab but you did. You weren't dumb, you knew something bad could happen if you walked. You didn't want to bother any of the boys. You stood outside the club, waiting for your cab and you were annoyed, you felt like you only attracted men who didn't have good intentions and you didn't know why. You just wanted someone.. maybe two men who loved you with everything they had, like you felt for them. Honestly you just wanted Hyunjin and Felix and you didn't know how much longer you could fight off these feelings. It felt like they were bubbling up to your chest now and it was only a matter of them before they made your head explode.
You paid your fare and headed inside your apartment. You turned on your shower to the hottest that you could handle to scrub off the feeling of Mike's hands on your body. You couldn't help thinking about what could have happened to you had Felix and Hyunjin not been there for you. As you finish in the shower, you come out and check your phone seeing an email you'd been waiting for. A few weeks ago you had interviewed for a receptionist job at an elite law office. You nervously opened the email, screaming and dropping your phone in excitement as you jumped around your room. You got the job and you were so happy to not be living off of your savings anymore. You pick up your phone, reading the rest of the email, seeing you still had a few days before you were starting, you were so happy you completely forgot about what had happened that night. You fell asleep quickly, feeling like everything was going to be okay.
The next morning you woke up, in a great mood and ready for the day. You looked at your phone, seeing a message from Felix.
[9:58am From Felix] Morning, Can I take you to lunch today? I need to talk to you.
A knot immediately formed in your stomach. This was going to be bad. He's going to end the friendship or something. He was probably tired of you and your shit. You didn't want to go, but you needed to know. Your anxiety wouldn't let you not know and you wouldn't be able to function.
[10:09am To Felix] That doesn't sound good. Let me know when and where.
[10:11am From Felix] Same restaurant as last night. Meet you there at 11:30am]
You don't reply. You can't. You can feel the lump in your throat getting bigger. You tried your best to get ready, to make yourself look decent but you were on the verge of tears and you couldn't control it. The thought of losing one of your best friends was devastating.
You sit at the table, your fingers interlaced as you wait for Felix. Your head is down as you try to breathe through the anxiety. You hear the door open, your head shoots up and you see Felix and Hyunjin walk in. There are no smiles, no happy greetings and you knew this was going to be bad. The two men sit down, across from you, staring at you.
“Did you order?” Felix asks, looking at the menu.
“I can't eat right now.” You whisper. Fuck. Your tears were going to start spilling right away.
“Neither can I.” He sighs, closing the menu. “Look, the reason I asked you to lunch and that Hyunjin joined too is that we really need to talk to you about something.” He says.
The tears fall as you look at them. They're now staring at you confused.
“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asks, reaching over to wipe your tears.
“I don't want to lose you guys.” You cry. They look at each other before looking back at you.
“Why are you losing us?” Felix asks.
“Isn't that what this is? You're ending the friendship?” You ask.
Felix laughs. “I guess in a sense.” He says. He reaches over and grabs your hands. “This isn't about ending anything. More so taking it to the next level.”
You stare at him. “next level? Like ultimate best friends?’ you ask.
They both laugh, and then stone faces as they take a deep breath. “I'm falling in love with you.” Felix admits.
“What?” You whisper.
“And I'm falling in love with you.” Hyunjin admits. “And we don't know what to do.”
“We don't want to ruin things if you don't feel the same but neither of us could hold it in any longer.” Felix says.
Suddenly the tears flow, you take your hands back to cover your face as you sob. Neither of them say a word as you cry. Until Felix's phone rings.
“Yeah Chan?” He answers. “Fuck. Now? Shit okay, we're on our way.” He says. He looks at Hyunjin who immediately knows what's going on.
“We gotta go. But we're having a party tonight. Please come and we can talk.” Felix tells you as they both stand up and walk out the door.
You're in shock. That's not at all how you thought that conversation was going to go.
They are both falling in love with you. And you're already in love with them both. What do you do? Do you choose one and leave one heartbroken, while also leaving yourself heartbroken. Did you date both? Could you date both? Would they be okay with that? You stand up and head home, your mind swirling with thoughts on what to do. You couldn't believe it.
Later that night you got yourself ready for the party, you were very confident on what you were going to do. And you hoped they didn't ask you to choose because you wouldn't be able to. You wanted to give dating both of them both a try. If the three of you put in the effort, you were sure that you guys could do it.
You walk through the door of the party, seeing the house was filled with people. Changbin and Han run up to you, engulfing you in hugs before Han demands another beer chugging rematch.
“We will, later.” You laugh. “Do you know where Felix and Hyunjin are?” You ask.
“I think in the kitchen.” He tells you, going over to say hi to someone else. You make your way to the kitchen, seeing Felix standing there talking to someone. You take a deep breath, and head straight for him. He smiles as he sees you walk up to him. You press up against his chest, sliding your hand on the back of his head, pulling his head down closer to you. He stares into your eyes as you move your face closer and closer, until your lips touch his. As soon as your lips touch, he takes control. He spins you around, pinning you against the fridge as he deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
Felix breaks the kiss, stepping away from you with a grin on his face. You look past him seeing Hyunjin standing there. You motion him to come to you with your finger. He walks towards you, and you move past Felix, grabbing onto Hyunjin's collar and pulling him down. His lips touch yours and he quickly slides his tongue into your mouth, hardening the kiss.
He pulls away from you, grinning at you and Felix. You guide Hyunjin to stand next to Felix and you clear your throat as you look at both of them.
“I can't choose, and I won't choose. I'm falling hard for you both and I want you both. If you're okay with that then I'm all in, but if you're not then it won't work.” You tell them.
“I'm in.” Hyunjin smiles.
“I'm all in.” Felix says. You were so fucking happy in this moment. You kissed them both before grabbing some celebratory shots. The three of you take a few shots before you drag them both to the living room to dance. You feel as though you're in heaven, grinding your ass into Felix and Hyunjin grinds in front of you. Your happiness is short lived, as the front door busts open and in walks eight men, one of which you recognize. The music shuts off as Chan, Changbin, Jeogin, Minho, Han, Felix and Hyunjin stand in front of the intruders.
“What the hell are you doing here Hongjoong?” Chan yells. The man just laughs.
“What? You thought you could start doing illegal mods on cars and I wouldn't fucking find out?” He yells.
What was going on?
“Is business slow?” Chan asks. “Maybe if you were better at your job, you wouldn't lose so many clients.” He says, fake pouting. Hongjoong turns red as anger consumes him.
“Me and you. A race now, the winner keeps doing mods, and the loser closes up shop.” He yells. Everyone begins cheering but you feel confused. You'd heard about street racing, but you had no idea that they were involved in it. You look at Felix and Hyunjin, who look guilty.
“Y/N.” You hear from across the room. You look over and a familiar man walks over to you. You squint your eyes as he comes closer, and then it hits you. It was San. You had a mini fling with him years ago and ended on good terms and as friends.
“San! Oh my god.” You laugh, running up to him, wrapping your arms around him. “So good to see you.” You laugh, letting go of the large man. Hyunjin and Felix are on each side of you, glaring at their enemy.
“Get your hands off of her.” Felix snaps, pulling you back, and closer to him.
“We used to hook up.” San winks. You roll your eyes.
“If you can even call it that.” You laugh.
“It was good to see you, Y/N.” He says, winking at you before walking towards his group. You turn to Hyunjin and Felix, a stern look on your face.
“Street racing?” You gasp.
“Y/N.. listen.” Hyunjin starts.
“How long?” You ask. “How long have you guys been doing this shit and why didn't you tell me?”
“Since before we met.” Felix says. “It's not that we didn't want to tell you.”
“We just wanted to protect you.” Hyunjin says. “We're involved with a lot of dangerous people. We just want to keep you safe.”
“Hyunjin, Felix. Let's go.” Chan yells. The crowd disperses, heading out to wherever the race is going to be.
“Go to one of our rooms.” Felix says. “We'll be back in a bit.”
You scoff at the handsome man. “Absolutely not.” You deadpan.
“I'm coming with you.”
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delicatebarness · 1 day
Text
i cant read your mind | chapter four
Summary: The journey to Madripoor.
Warnings: MCU Spoilers. Captain America: The Winter Soldier. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier spoilers throughout. Zemo.
Word Count: 1148
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A/N: If I didn't split this episode up then this chapter would have been too long for my brain to be okay with. The next one is gonna be looooong.
Tags: @blackhawkfanatic | @cjand10 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @missvelvetsstuff | @buckys-metal-arm | @matchat3a | @shadowzena43 | @torntaltos |
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Strolling down the prison corridors, the sterile white tiles and harsh fluorescent light amplified a feeling of isolation, as well as a headache. “I’m gonna go alone,” Bucky admitted, addressing both you and Sam. Just as Sam questioned his decision, you objected with a firm “No,” as your mind went back to the last time Bucky was alone with Zemo.
“You’re an Avenger. You know how he feels about that.” Bucky continued, answering Sam's question as he shot you a warning glance that silently said, “Don’t push it,”. You didn’t say anything else while he gave Sam more reasons for him to go alone, you let out a sigh as you watched him leave. 
Anxiety began to rise throughout your body as you stood waiting, Sam sensed your apprehension about the return of The Winter Soldier. “He’ll be alright,” he said as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder in reassurance. 
Your hand instinctively reached up to rub your neck as you responded, “I’ll believe it when he comes back and doesn’t attempt to kill me,” your memories flooded with your first encounter with Bucky. “Again.” 
That day on the bridge changed you. Never before had you been on a mission that came so close to disaster. His right hand effortlessly closed around your neck, you tried to fight back with punches, and kicks and even tried reaching for your gun. He maintained a distance that prevented you from gaining any ground. 
Just in the last second, the shield slammed into his back, which forced him to release his grip, sending you tumbling to the ground. 
~
Your eyes sparked with relief at Bucky’s return, and his expression mirrored yours. You suppressed the urge to rush forward and embrace Bucky, absent from The Winter Soldier. As he walked over to you, he instructed you and Sam to follow him. 
Guided by Bucky, you ventured into the dimly lit garage, relying on flashlights and Bucky’s hand to navigate. You reached for it the second you stepped into the darkness and stuck close to him as he and Sam debated the merits and risks of freeing Zemo. The tension in the air kept you silent until Bucky located the light switch. With a sigh of relief, you exhaled deeply. As you relaxed into the newfound brightness, you slipped your hand out of Bucky’s. 
“I didn’t do anything,” Bucky retorted to Sam. Recognizing his tone of voice, betraying his statement, you knew he had indeed done something. Concern gripped you as you wondered what it could be. Your attention was focused on him as he outlined a plan to free Zemo.
Startled by the door slamming shut, you instinctively moved toward the source. To your surprise, it was Zemo. He strolled into the garage as if it was his own. Maybe it was? “What the fuck, Bucky?!” you exclaimed, joining Sam in a heated exchange with Bucky about this turn of events. As Zemo attempted to interject, all three of you shut him down with a simultaneous “No!”. 
“When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you both backed him. You both broke the law, and you stuck your necks out for me.” Bucky shifted his gaze between you and Sam, the weight of the past heavy in your eyes, tears threatening to spill. “I’m asking you to do it again.” he pleaded, his gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You nodded, affirming your loyalty to Bucky as Sam commanded rules to Zemo before agreeing. 
~
Sitting on a private jet beside Bucky and across from Zemo felt surreal. Their casual conversation with Sam about Marvin Gaye seemed out of place, prompting you to feign sleep, keeping your eyes closed for most of the journey. Your attention snapped back to them when they mentioned Madripoor, the destination you headed to. Intrigue sparked within you as Zemo started the topic of disguises. They have secretly been one of your favorite aspects of being an agent since the beginning. 
“Don’t touch her,” Bucky’s voice growled a warning, causing you to snap out of your feigned sleep. You opened your eyes just in time to see Zemo reaching towards your shoulder. Grateful for Bucky’s protective instinct, you glanced around feeling disoriented. Bucky was almost on his feet, presumably to stop Zemo physically. 
“Apologies,” Zemo directed to Bucky, who seemed to calm down after Zemo retreated. Zemo then brought his attention back to you. “I have picked out a dress for you to wear, Agent, to blend in,” he gestured toward the door of the jet’s toilet.
~
Unzipping the dress bag, you were surprised by the beautiful red material and its intricate details. Who would have thought Zeemo had such good taste? Without any hesitation, you shed your casual yet tactical wear and slid into the dress. You admired how it hugged your body perfectly. Rushing to see the final look, you adorned yourself with the accessories he had chosen as well. 
Stepping out of the bathroom, you revealed your new identity to your team, Bucky, Sam, and Zemo. Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise, Sam whistled appreciatively, and Zemo offered a polite nod of approval.
“Not a chance,” Bucky’s voice cut through the moment, his gaze bore into you as you walked out wearing the red dress, its neckline plunging and the hem barely covering anything below your waist, your back exposed. 
Confusion flickered across your face as you turned to him, he was looking you up and down with only his eyes still seated. “Excuse me?”
His jaw tensed as he continued to assess your appearance, “You’re not wearing that,” he stated firmly.
Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “And, since when did you get an opinion?” you shot back, defiance in your voice as you met his gaze. 
The tension on the jet thickened as Bucky maintained his stance. Sam sensed the conflict brewing, he decided to step in and attempt to diffuse the situation. 
“Okay, let’s just take a minute,” He interjected, his voice was calm yet authoritative. “We’ve got more important things to worry about-”
“I’m serious,” Bucky interrupted, insisting you wouldn’t be wearing the dress. “You’ll draw too much attention.”
“This dress will not compromise the mission,” you began, your voice steady. “I’ve been in the ‘arm candy’ role for Steve enough to know what I’m doing.” you noticed the shift in his demeanor as his body tensed at the thought of you and Steve being perceived as intimate.
Sam nodded in agreement with you, “She’s got a point, Bucky,” Sam interjected, affirming your statement. He had witnessed this act on a few occasions now to know you’re right. Bucky hesitated, torn between his protective and possessive instincts over you or respecting the supposed end of your so-called relationship. After a moment of silence, a begrudging “Fine.” cut through the tension.
---
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diejager · 3 days
Note
This is one of my first times requesting so if I mess anything up please let me know!
I recently encountered the prompt line 'I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.' And my brain has ran WILD with it, If your comfy with it can you do Alejandro or Rudy? Only if your comfy with it! Just delete this ask if you aren't :)
the messier the better anon, nothing in less organised than organised chaos. THE BEST in my opinion. But I’m assuming it’s supposed to be angst and fluff???? Anyway, how about both????
Cw: angst?, fluff, feelings, tell me if I missed any.
He was warm, the spice and sun that clung to his clothes brought comfort to you in soft waves, a slow and gentle wash of his affection and love for someone like you. You couldn’t understand how someone as loved as Alejandro was, could love someone like you, eagerly hold a piece of his heart out without concern for himself, gifting you a space in his welcoming heart. You could almost hear Rudolfo scold you for your thoughts, reminding you that you were important to them, a beating piece of the duo that slowly eased into a trio. 
“Mi cielo, ” Alejandro mumbled, pressing his silken lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses up your neck and grounding you with a strong grip of your hips, rocking you back and forth while he mumbled sweet praises.
You melted in his arms, his pretty, sun-kissed skin and sharp face, his sinful lips and dark eyes, all things that made him so strong and dependable. Your eyes closed tiredly, leaning back against his solid frame, thick arms and chest supporting you when your knees shuddered, weakened by your exhaustion. You wondered what you did to deserve such devotion, such care from respected men: one headstrong and confident leader, and his gentle and quick-witted right-hand. 
“How are you, mi Corazón? ”you blinked when you felt calloused hands hold your limp ones, thumb running over your knuckles and pecking your cheek.
You followed the arm up to a gleeful face, his concerned smile on those pink lips and his warm eyes, the gentle curve of his cheeks and beautiful brows. You tried to smile back, return the courtesy Rudy gave you, to reach from the depth of your being and give him a taste of something you used to fear. You knew he could see the strain on your face, the heavy bags from your fitful sleep and nightmare that haunted your conscience every moment you closed your eyes, but you strived to try for them. 
Lips parting, you rasped out the first words of a familiar reply, the same you always gave— 
“The truth, pro favor, mi Corazón, ” you saw the ache in his chocolate hues, the pained tone of his voice as he locked fingers with you, sturdy and grounding, reminding you that you were in the present and not the past.
“I’m… tired,” you sighed, head bowed forward to lay on his shoulder, nose running up his collar and hiding in his familiar scent. Relaxing further in their shared embrace, nuzzling the scratchy stubble under his jaw, grumbling against his earthy and pepper scent, “But I can’t sleep. They keep waking me up.”
“You could have told us, mi cielo, ” Alejandro cooed, pressing you deeper into Rudy’s arms, knocking his forehead with Rudy’s, “We would have helped you.”
You grumbled a tried: “I know,” that made them both chuckled lightly, “I just.. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You aren’t a bother, ” Rudy swore, his tone a whisper as if it were a secret to keep between you three.
And Alejandro completed it, a promise written in the stars and in the earth, words whispered into your soul and mind: “You never are.”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
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dazednmatthews · 2 days
Note
hey hot stuff i’m feeling the need to be self indulgent (feel free to ignore me LOL) but a matt headcanon with his gf in the middle of exams? late night study sesh and such🥹 i love you
- mads 🪽(@hollandsangel)
bf!matt x stressed college gf headcanons
sorry this took so long!! i had a… hectic day to say the least. i hope this does ur request justice 🫶🏾 i love u bad
-matt is the type of bf to never ever want to see you stressed
-he’s gonna do whatever he possibly can to take the pressure off your shoulders
-so when exam season comes up and you start to get kind of distant because you’re so stressed, this mf is the most attentive, doting man ever
-“i’m just so stressed. my bio exam is in three days and my english lit exam is in 5 and i have to do so many chores and pick up this stupid cake for my mom—”
-“go to the library and study. give me the time and place to pick up the cake and i’ll use my key to get into your apartment. don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.”
-he would respect your space when you needed it and when you wanted to study alone
-“i wanna see you matt but i really need to memorize this chapter tonight. i can’t, i’m sorry.”
-“it’s okay, baby. i understand, school comes first right now.”
-you love him so much for that cause he never makes you or lets you feel guilty for the lack of time together
-he definitely brings you your favorite snacks, water, and meals to the library when you stay late
-“i’m not staying, i know you need to focus. but i also know you haven’t eaten today and i can’t have that.”
-when you do want company, he is hands down the best study partner
-he will deadass read the chapters you have memorize just to make sure he can quiz you
-helps you make color coded flash cards
-“it means… fuck i can never fucking remember this one.” you’re chewing on your pen cap racking your brain for the definition of a chapter concept you know you know. you can feel the slight hysteria building as matt sits patiently, gentle eyes pleading with you to go easy on yourself. “i’m never gonna fucking pass.”
-matt puts down the flash cards, careful not to mess up the order. he comes around to the side of his bed that you’re on, squatting down between your open legs. he’s rubbing his thumb in circles on your thighs with one hand as he removes your head from your hands with his other. “you are the smartest and most capable person i know. you have been working your ass off for this. you need to give yourself some more credit, sweetheart. cause i have no doubt you can do it.” he swipes at the frustrated tears pooling in your eyes and gives you the most honey sweet smile you’ve ever seen.
-you tend to overwork yourself a lot so he insists on breaks every couple hours
-you almost always protest in favor of getting as much work done as possible but he always wins the argument
-“baby, i can’t take another break. i’m so behind. i haven’t even done half of what i wanted to!”
-“last break we took was four hours ago y/n. you’re going to drive yourself crazy if you don’t give yourself some time to relax.”
-he takes you to get food or even just a short drive listening to the playlist you guys made together, talking and laughing about anything other than school
-sometimes you sit in the living room w all the triplets and watch them argue about something hilarious
-he’s always right and it always works
-when you finally finish reviewing all the material you needed to, you flop down on his bed with a heavy sigh
-“i’m so fucking happy i finished on time.”
-“i knew you would. you’re gonna fucking ace it tomorrow.”
-“yeah i hope. i had the best study partner in the world.”
-you spend the night before your exams in his extremely soft bed and his extremely serene arms, him kissing away the nerves that threaten to choke you. every so often he’ll whisper sweet nothings of how good you’re gonna do, how proud of you he is and how smart you are, making your heart swell.
-the day of your exams you wake up to the sweetest note with a smoothie made (he didn’t go to bed until like 7am that morning anyway)
-“you’ve got this, baby! you’re gonna fucking kill it. take your time and trust yourself. i love you -m”
-you feel on top of the world knowing the most amazing man you’ve ever met believes in you so much
-after your exams are done, you wait until you’re back at his house to view your scores online
-“you ready?” matt says, looking at you with nothing but love and light.
-“no, but fuck it. lets get this over with.”
-you of course get the best scores imaginable
-you celebrate like you won the fucking lottery, jumping in his arms and shrieking in hysterical delight
-he is just as, maybe even more excited
-“that’s my fucking girl! i knew you could do it.”
-and he spends the entire night showing you just how proud of you he really is
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mcntsee · 20 hours
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— ★ the great gig in the sky
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↳ request: “Spence gets fatally hurt on the job and the reader (who is his girlfriend and also an agent) just cries over his body, I mean WAILING. In my head I see it as if it's some sort of music video for The Great Gig In The Sky by pink Floyd (iykyk, the song makes me BAWL my eyes out man). Just, absolutely distraught but also artistic, you feel me???”
↳ warnings: Major characters death! Pure angst, blood, wound mention, anxiety, stress, grief, sadness. Reader insert with no use of “y/n”
↳ author’s note: this is short (sorry!!). Not proofread and, I apparently suck at adding the lyrics of a song to the story (!!). I do hope you guys enjoy this, specially @ding-dong-big-schlong , who trusted me with this request and I hope I did it justice! <33
* ੈ✩‧₊˚
I am not frightened of dying, you know.
 
She turned sharply at the sudden noise, watching as the color drained from his face and pain shot through him. "N-no." Her steps quickened without her realizing it; the sound of her feet pounding on the ground distant in her ears. The familiar ringing in her ears, along with the muteness, was the only thing comprehensible.
 
He stood there, his hand shooting up to pat at the spreading pain coursing through his body. His vision blurred as he raised his hand to meet his eyes, crimson color seeping through his now-tainted fingers. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, his feet losing their place on the ground as he fell to his knees.
 
She watched him crumble to the ground, his body seemingly losing all strength, folding onto the ground with a heavy thud. She watched as his hands reached out instinctively but failed to break his fall, leaving him sprawled helplessly on the unforgiving ground, his limbs slack and motionless.
 
Their coms crackled with frantic voices, familiar tones urging caution, advising to wait for backup as she urgently called for medics. She tuned them out, the urgency in their voices only spurring her to move faster.
 
Any time will do, I don't mind
 
The searing pain shot through her knees as they collided with the cold pavement, her jeans now torn and her skin scraped raw, blood trickling from the friction against the rough concrete.
 
"Spencer—” Her voice quivered with desperation as she reached out, her trembling hands gently guiding him onto his back. “Look at me, Spencer, look at me!”
 
His eyes fluttered open, the hazel orbs dimming as they swept across the sky before locking onto her tear-filled gaze.
 
Despite the pain, all he could focus on was her eyes—so beautiful, their color a solace in any circumstance. Yet now, he couldn't bear the sorrow etched within them. The desperation, the pain. "Angel," he whispered.
 
His arm moved sluggishly as his brain struggled to command it, but eventually, he weakly lifted it and placed his hand against her chest. After a moment of hesitation, he began pushing her away with a grunt of discomfort. “Go.”
 
“Spencer, what?”
“G-go.”
 
Her brow furrowed in confusion, and her hand moved to lower his, stopping his relentless pushing. "I'm going to put you in my lap now, okay?" She whispered softly, her voice gentle and reassuring, as she settled beside him.
 
“N- no, please just go.”
 
He bled in her arms, watching her panic as she struggled to keep him awake, pressing down on the wound and apologizing each time a hiss escaped his lips. Yet, despite his protests, she pressed down harder whenever his eyes threatened to close again.
 
The tears had finally escaped her beautiful eyes, and the sight alone caused him more pain than the wound on his chest. “Go, ple—“
 
“Spencer, stop! I’m not leaving you. I’m not—just please stay awake.”
 
Why should I be frightened of dying?
 
He couldn’t bear seeing her cry, so he struggled to pull away, shifting his body despite the searing pain threatening to overwhelm him. He knew his time was over, and it was okay.
 
Her grip tightened, pulling him closer until his head rested on her shoulder. With a trembling hand, she wiped at the blood on his lip, her tears mingling with his own as they wet his cheek.
 
Her shouts echoed in the night, the flashing lights illuminating her face so vividly that he wondered if he had already passed into the afterlife.
 
She looked so pained, and he looked so peaceful. A beautifully, disastrous mixture.
 
“Help is almost here, Spence. Please hold on.”
 
His eyes dimmed, his complexion paling as his breathing slowed. With a final, tight-lipped smile—the kind she had grown to love—he quietly whispered, “I love you.”
 
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime
 
“Spence?”
His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and his chest unmoving as his body rested limply in her arms, like a broken doll awaiting repair.
 
Her movements were quick as she carefully laid his body back on the ground, her hands trembling as she shook him. "Spencer!" she called out repeatedly, her voice filled with desperation as she continued to shake his body, not pausing even though she knew she might be causing him pain.
 
Her fingers searched frantically for a pulse, tears streaming down her cheeks as she moved her trembling fingers back and forth. She desperately sought the spot on his neck where she would feel his heartbeat against her fingertips.
 
With a desperate groan, she quickly blinked away the blurriness from her tears, her hands moving frantically until they landed on his chest. She pressed the heel of her hand against the center of his chest, interlocking her other hand over it, the urgency of her actions mirrored by the rapid pounding of her heart.
 
With each compression, she pleaded silently with his heart to awaken, her movements fueled by desperation as she struggled to recall the rhythm of the song Spencer had taught her for chest compressions.
 
With each compression, she felt the resistance of his ribs yielding beneath her hands, the sound of cracking bones lost in the urgency of her efforts. Despite the pain she knew she was causing him, she pressed on, the desperate calls for her name fading into the background as she focused solely on the sinking feeling in her stomach.
 
Her anger surged, his chest remaining still, his blood-stained lips turning blue, and his skin paling from the loss of blood. "Spencer!" The chest compressions were abandoned as her closed fists pounded his chest, attempting to coax his heart into action. "Wake up!" Each strike grew more forceful, each plea more desperate. "Spencer, wake up! Wake up!"
 
Strong hands tugged at her vest, forcefully trying to pull her away from him as she persisted. She could hear the familiar voice behind her, begging her to let go—to let Spencer go. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
 
With a swift motion, her closed fist swung behind her, aimed at creating distance between herself and whoever was grabbing her. “Let go! Let go!” She landed a couple of pathetic hits on them, causing them to hiss in pain and release their grip.
 
Her knees scraped along the concrete as she swiftly crawled back to the genius's side, the blood on the floor mixing with the blood escaping from the nasty scratches on her knees.
 
“No- No!” Her sobs escaped her lips as her hands raised into fists again. This time, however, they stayed frozen mid-air as her eyes locked onto his face. “Spence—”
 
Her hands lowered, holding onto his shoulder as she sat on the back of her legs defeated. She felt the anger and strength slowly leaving her body as she pulled his lifeless body towards her, cradling him in her arms. “Spencer, please…” The rosy pink of his cheeks had disappeared, the glint in his eyes covered behind forever closed lids. Spencer had vanished before her eyes, and yet she could still see him right in front of her, but it wasn’t her ‘Spence’ anymore. Now, it was just the body the soul she had fallen in love with used to occupy.
 
“Please,” she pleaded, the last reserves of her strength employed in drawing him closer. Her crimson-stained hand tenderly cradled his face, her thumb stroking back and forth as she grappled with the swift departure of his familiar warmth. “Please…”
 
Sobs and gasps for air wracked her body, repeated pleas of his name falling from her trembling lips. Her heart screamed in agony as her mind processed the harsh reality of his departure. An empty void settled within her, a feeling she knew would never dissipate.
 
“I love you, too.”
 
Her head fell onto his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks and wetting the cold skin on his neck where the comforting heartbeat she once synced hers with was now absent.
 
“I love you. I love you. I love you.”
 
I never said I was frightened of dying.
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zegrasdrysdale · 1 day
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jamie and reader looking through baby names :((
[ what’s in a name ] j. drysdale
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paring : Jamie Drysdale x fem!reader
summary : Jamie and his girlfriend try to find the perfect baby name
warning(s) : none really
author’s note : this is very dialogue heavy btw. it’s very conversation based. also kinda short oops
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Baby Drysdale is due in a month and they still don’t have a name. The nursery in their new house is Voorhees got done before they found a baby name.
There was a time where she knew what she wanted her baby's name to be. She was also ten. Now she’s an adult and is in charge of naming an actual human being.
Today is the day though. She and Jamie are going to sit down and pick out their baby’s name. Baby Drysdale will have a name before coming into the world if it’s the last thing they do.
Jamie sits at the kitchen island with a notebook while she runs around the kitchen to cook dinner. She’s been craving a baked dish so she’s making lasagna for them.
“Do we want a neutral gender name?” Jamie questions. “Since we don’t know if the baby’s a boy or a girl. We can come up with names for both a boy and a girl if you want too.”
She gently stirs the large pasta noodles as she thinks. “I think gender neutral is good,” she replies. “I do have one request though.”
“What?”
“If we have a girl, her middle name is Marie for my mom.”
She looks up to look at her boyfriend and Jamie smiles at her. “Absolutely,” he says. “I won’t say no to that.”
Her mom died about three months before they found out they were expecting Baby Drysdale. It’s like she sent them the little angel growing in her daughter’s belly. That is why Baby Drysdale’s middle name will be Marie if they are a girl.
Jamie scribbles down the idea. “Okay, we have a middle name,” he comments. “If we have a girl. What about if we have a boy?”
She wracks her brain as she tries to think about a middle name if Baby Drysdale is a boy. “What about your brother or dad?” she asks. “Maybe a grandfather that meant a lot to you? Any of their names?”
Her boyfriend sighs behind her. “I mean, my dad’s name is Gary and my brother’s name is Charlie,” he replies. “I wasn’t super close to my grandfathers so I wouldn’t want to name our baby after one of them.”
“I like Charlie as a middle name,” she comments. “Would he mind if we stole his name?”
Jamie laughs. “I don’t think he’ll mind,” he tells her. “He would probably love it.”
“Then Charlie as a middle name if Baby Drysdale is a boy,” she says.
She pours the cooked pasta into a strainer in the sink so she can start layering the dish. “Now we need a first name,” Jamie says. “Especially a name that goes with both middle names we picked out.”
There’s movement behind her and she glances back. He is grabbing is laptop and bringing it back to the island. “What are you doing?” she questions.
“I am going to find a list of names and we are going to go through it until we find one we both like,” he says as he types something. “And the baby’s name isn’t going to be something basic and common either. We’re going all in.”
She laughs and layers the dish. “Alright,” she sighs. “Hit me with some names.”
“We got Avery first on the list,” Jamie tells her.
Avery Marie or Avery Charlie. “I’d like it better as a girl’s name,” she admits. “Avery Marie sounds very pretty.”
Jamie scribbles that done. “I agree,” he replies. “Next we have Taylor.”
She thinks about it as she licks some sauce off her finger. “I like it,” she says. “For both.”
More scribbling as she throws a layer of foil on top of the dish. “Next we have Wyatt,” Jamie says. “I will say that I am not a fan of this name. It doesn’t go well with either middle name.”
“Agreed. Next.”
There’s a moment of silence between them as she puts the dish in the oven and timer. She walks over to Jamie and wraps her arms around him from behind so she can see over his shoulder. “How about Silas if Baby D is a boy?” he asks. “It just popped up at a separate list at the end.”
Silas Charlie. “I love it,” she replies. She watches Jamie write it down.
“So I think we have our names,” Jamie comments. “Avery if Baby D is a girl and Silas if Baby D is a boy.” He looks up at her.
Without realizing it, tears well in her eyes. “We have our names,” she echoes. The tears spill onto her cheeks.
Jamie turns in the high stool and faces her. “Baby, you don’t have to cry,” he coos as he uses his thumbs to dry her tears. “This is supposed to be a happy moment.”
“I know,” she laughs. “I can’t help it. I’m a very emotional person right now.”
He pulls her into a hug and rests a hand on her belly to give the baby a hug. “I love you both,” Jamie says. “Emotions and all.”
She laughs and rests her cheek on her boyfriend’s head as he gently rubs her belly.
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