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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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beann-e · 4 years

Text

Haikyu! Characters With A Shy Manager

Inarizaki Boys With A Shy Manager

tw” joke about ‘offing’ ones self & also overbearing parents

Read Part One Here

osamu

-osamu is someone who’s laidback and doesn’t show his anger much except for when his brother pisses him off and right now Atsumu was nearing the edge of his brothers patience

“ I don’t care what you do as long as your happy “

“ if thats what you want to do then who are we to stop you “

your eyes traveled as you watched osamus mouth quirk up in a small smile before turning into a frown at his brothers face

His body ignoring him and looking to you awaiting your answer his eyes speaking as if your words could change his decision

“ uh I— I don’- “

“ who cares what yer think “ atsumus voice came out in a yell as he turned to his brother

“ are you stupid why would you leave all of this — why would you throw all of this away “ he moved to point to everything in the gym and the balls that sat idle after a match theyd just played and won

“ this can provide for a family — life after high school ‘samu and you want to “

his face came up in confusion “ and you want to leave it all for a restaurant how — why— why would that make sense to you — it’s stupid “

you felt your body go slack as your face dropped into a pout at atsumu’s claims . Throughout all the times you’d seen them argue this had to be the biggest one you’d ever seen take place in front of the team.

You felt horrible your mouth wanted to open to try to protect osamu seeing as he was the only one who put effort into trying to speak with you.

Ever since you joined the team no one could really understand why you were so quiet except for osamu who would sit next to you during breaks and lunches that he’d share his food with you after you finished the bento box he’d made you

your heart tore as you watched him look to the ground ‘ just say something ‘samu please if this is what you want then tell him — it’s your life ‘

“ have you ever stopped and thought about how this may just be what you want ‘tsumu “

atsumus yells stopped as he heard his brothers voice and head pop up to target him

“ maybe this isn’t something I feel my talents are best used for “

he stood with his eyebrows furrowed in determination “ I like food — it makes me happy just like volley’ makes you so — I don’t care if it’s hard and not as easy as volleyball is for me right now —I want to do what my minds telling me to do “

he huffed “ and that’s to cook and open my own restaurant“

he moved to walk over to his brother to get closer with both his words and body “ and don’t you ever yell at them like that again you probably made them piss their pants “

he calmed himself down as he looked his brother in the eyes “ if your nice now “ he huffed out putting his arms into a hold across his chest “ maybe I might just give you a free meal when I open my restaurant “

Everyone’s body turned in shock and fear when they looked behind them to see your body shaking mouth being ripped open with a calming laugh as you clutched at you stomach

Everything seemed to slow in the gym as osamu watched your body ripple with the loud laugh that came out. Wondering how you’d held it inside for so long seeing as this was the first time anyone heard you laugh

“ y-y/n why — why are you laughing “

“ how can you laugh at a time like this we’re fighting“ Atsumus voice had calmed down in a state of panic at your new behavior

“ because osuma said you not gonna get any food“ you smiled “ and I know right now you don’t care but I bet when you get older and you see his amazing restaurant with a long line in front your gonna wish you’d sucked it up in this moment so you can take that free plate “

osamus mouth itched as his wide eyes squeezed shut at your bright smile his mouth opening before he could stop himself “ if you believe in me so much please believe I could keep you fed if you date me “

your body froze as everyone now turned in fear from you to osamu

“ Will I get rice for lunch everyday “ you giggled

“ i’ll make you anything you want out of rice if that’s what you like — i’ll even make you a wedding ring out of rice “

you laughed as you shook your head in a yes form “ as long as the foods included and you never give up on your dreams — no matter who believes in them “

your voice was soft “ then yes i’ll date you osamu “

you watched as he smiled widely sticking his tounge out at his brother “ oh now it’s really fuck what you think ‘tsumu— cause your the one who told me food wouldn’t be enough to get them to date me— I should’ve just made them the cake like I wanted and asked ‘em out “

The team all stood in shock as Arans mouth opened and closed before he spoke again “ u-uh how did that even make sense— what just happened “

sunas body relaxed against the wall as he spoke soft and quiet “ osumas quit volley’ to be a chef, y/n believes in him so their dating, and “ he pointed to atsumu

“ and once again Atsumu looks stupid “

Atsumu

-he’s not one who would necessarily get along with someone shy nor do I see him being able to. The way he acts may go two ways it may make the person comfortable or it may just irritate them and make them even more anxious

-I don’t think he’s one to see the signs , he would probably take your uncomfortable laughter as him making you laugh and tell the whole team he finally broke you and got you to laugh

“ atsumu “

The setter called as he threw up a new set for his brother in the two on two practice match. His hand hitting the ball hard in a spike as he won his team the final point

Your body dropping as you immediately knew what was coming “ y/n-san did you see that “

“ y-yes atsumu-senpai “

“ it was cool wasnt it “ he said as he moved towards you

“ y-yes “

he smirked as he slid his hands in his pocket looking down on you as he came to a stop in front of your body “ well when your just a great player like me things like that come easy so you don’t have to worry if I hurt myself or not “

he looked away from you and to the floor but eyes darting up to look at you again quickly “ because I didn’t so yeah — don’t think I did “

you smiled softly trying to think of a way out of this “ I-I didn’t think so “

“ yeah see you know someone like me would never get injured —I have to be a great role model to my sweet little first year“

he patted your head as he sat down next to you feet out in front of him “ don’t go turning into one of my annoying fan girls ok y/n “

“ I won’t “

“ ah you don’t mean that “ he bumped you softly “ you love me—so your loves gonna blind you you’ll see “

“ oh “

“ see you do — and I love you too “

“ dude they dont even like talking to you “

“ oh shut yer trap yes they do their in love with me we’re destined to be together “

“ yeah in death — that’s what your gonna do ‘tsumu yer gonna make them off theirselves by hearing yer loud mouth every single time you win a match “

“ y/n you love me right “

your body flamed as you let out an uncomfortable laugh moving over on the bench “ they look —their laughing because it’s true “

his body stopped “ wait “

you felt as the wheels were turning in his head —a bit slow but they were turning

his voice coming out in mumbles “ if their laughing— and i’m talking— and now their laughing after I spoke —-l”

he yelled “ I MADE Y/N-SAN LAUGH “

he screamed in happiness smile huge “ I made them laugh guys “

he jolted up jumping when he stood before racing over to the group that all turned to look at him “ their laughing guys I — I did it their laughing their laug—“

your eyes darted to the floor as atsumu fell head first into the floor his voice coming out in a whine as he shook coming up to grab his nose in pain before reaching down to rub his ankle that he felt was thumping like crazy

“ y-you lied you did hurt yourself “

he moved to run his hand across the back of his neck “ well when you say hurt what do you me—“

your laugh came out in short giggles as you tried to hide it not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh your head turning to the side as you gave up and laughed into the air

Your giggles sounding like a song atsumu always wanted to play through his headphones when he would walk to school

His body thinking before his mind as he stood up and ran again towards the team “ Guys their — I did it again and you all saw — i’m amazing “

he fell forward again but this time just lying there as he mumbled into the ground

“ their totally in love with me — I made ‘em laugh not once but twice in a row —I got a real shot now“

Aran

-I don’t know much about him because I haven’t finished haikyu! I just know what i’ve gathered from short clips or from what i’ve seen already in the seasons & read in manga but he’s very open minded

-whenever he’s around you he’s always quick to snap and stop someone from telling you that you aren’t allowed to do something because it’s “ not logical “

Your body moved slowly to the gyms exit as you felt a hand come down over your shoulder

“ walk ‘ya home ? “

you looked up face stoic in a slight yes at Arans question

since you’d joined the team as manager you had yet to connect with the other boys only really speaking to Aran and helping him out when he needed it

He came to like being around you because you were a change of pace from his usual one dealing with the twins antics. So it wasn’t that hard to hear him asking to walk you home for the past few nights when practice ran too long

he sighed as he looked down at you “ you never really speak but I feel like your face talks for you “

you looked to the ground as he laughed “ get it because your always stoic —and your face shows noth—ok“

he looked away not hearing your laugh or seeing a smile deciding to cough the atmosphere away “ ok yeah get it “

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to laugh you just couldnt your parents dug into you anytime you went home. Theyd have your head if you didn’t focus only on your studies so, it was hard for you to talk or even be around other people when it wasn’t for class it made you anxious and you weren’t sure how to interact

People took this as you being shy and you weren’t going to explain that you wanted to talk but just didn’t know how

He let his hand fall from your shoulder as the walk soon came to a close him leaving you to walk up to the stairs to your home

“ you may go “ you said softly as he shook his head with a big smile on his face

“ nope not until I know your in your house safely “

you nodded your head as you took a deep breath the door opening before your hand could meet the lock your fathers voice knocking you on your butt

“ who is this — who is he y/n “

“ I-I “

“ I heard more than your voice out here and came to the door “

“ were you waiting up for me “

“ yes you didn’t come home after school today “

“ oh I— there was a math meet i’m sorry “ your father looked away in disgust as you lied

“ your lying to me I called your school and they said you quit mathletes to be a manager of some volleyball club “

you gulped “ I um “

“ why would you do something stupid like that it can’t help you in the future — with your studies “

“ because I um — I like “

you shut yourself up just nodding your head as your father beat into you “ so dumb I thought I raised you correctly it doesn’t matter what you want to do or what’s fun you do what makes you smart and whats logical you do not hold feeli—“

“ I think their happy “ Aran smiled at the scene in front of him “ I think they enjoy being our manager very much “

“ and who told you to spea-“

“ my heart — it guides a person to make decisions ones like I just made — and ones that you made — you want the best for your daughter right “

you fathers actions faltered as Aran continued to press into him “ If you want the best than you have to realize y/n Is tired and she’s not used to friendly interaction — she’s very out of place and uncomfortable around people because she’s only used to school work“

he shook his head in concern “ is this what you want for your child — for your kid to only know how to talk about school and not have a moment where their not spending it thinking about math equations and growing overworked “

“ well I— “

“ on our volleyball team we work ourselves hard yes— but we’ve also become great friends through this hard work we’re happy doing what we do because our hearts led us to do it not our parents “

he looked to you and back to your father as he stood looking up from the bottom of the stairs “ so I ask that you let your child stay on the volleyball team since their heart brought them there to sign up for the job one tuesday afternoon at 3:30 in our gym during our second winning match of the season “

your dad nodded his head in shock as he whispered out an ok

Aran smiling and leaving after waving to you with a short see you tomorrow

Your dad holding the house door open for you as he walked over whispering out to you “ you better marry that boy “ he smiled as he moved through the house

“ he remembered every detail about when he first met you “

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acciofanfics · 4 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet (Remus Lupin x Reader) Part 6 SMUT

Summary: (Y/N) wants to be a professor at Hogwarts. Dumbledore offers her a chance to intern and figure out what she wants to do… hopefully she’ll make it through the year.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x FemReader

Warnings: Age gap, SMUT and language.

A/N: So idk I kinda hate this... idk why 😂 but the overwhelming consensus was smut so TA-DA! - S

———————————————————————

It was almost comical how quickly things had changed between the two. Somethings remained similar, like the playful flirting and the stolen glances were still there... but ever since their kiss, the tension in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife. There just wasn’t enough time or privacy in the day to replicate the circumstances in the few days following. It wasn’t like they were really in the position to entertain a proper label or schedule; Remus flirted with the idea of asking her on a proper date, but that wasn’t exactly practical. Remus didn’t know which was worse: feeling like he hadn’t been permitted to act on his desires or rather knowing how it felt to give in and physically not be able to.

Remus’ lips twitched into a small grin when he saw (Y/N) smile at him from a few pieces of parchment. He watched as discreetly as he could, still trying to give as much attention as he could to the task he had at hand. Honestly, he wondered how (Y/N) was possibly juggling the workload she had... especially recently. He’d often see her running around like a chicken with its head cut off, sprinting from classrooms all over the castle. He’d seen her bring homework assignments with her to dinner and it seemed that in the past week or so the piles were getting bigger. It hadn’t really occurred to the man how much of the time they spent together happened during schooling hours or the occasional walk at night, but he hadn’t seen her outside office hours in what seemed like awhile.

Remus knew he was probably doing this for more selfish reasons. Honestly it was probably more of a chance to get her alone and to himself. An argument could be made that it was to give the struggling young woman a break though. Remus made his way over to her once he had his student working on something that didn’t require his complete attention. Wand movements usually did the trick. In a low voice he simply suggested, “If you’re feeling a little rebellious, meet me on the fourth floor tonight when everyone is in bed.”

Remus hadn’t been able to get any verbal confirmation before being summoned back to his responsibilities, but judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes he had assumed the answer to be a yes. He had very much looked forward to it all day, and he was more than please to see (Y/N) already waiting for him. She smiled sheepishly at him, “Guess I was a little early.”

He didn’t blame her, he would’ve been a bit earlier himself had he not misplaced his wand briefly. Remus chalked it up to feeling like a teenager again with the sneaking out and around, with all of the excitement an old habit of losing his belongings was bubbling up too. “Seems like I was running a bit late. Come on, I have somewhere in mind you might enjoy.”

(Y/N) eagerly followed him to a mirror, and though she didn’t often find herself avoiding mirrors she didn’t know if she’d go as far as to say she enjoyed them. It wasn’t very long at all though that Remus was carefully moving a mirror that revealed a passageway that had been carved out. Once the two had ducked into the clandestine hallway and he had lit up the darkness with the tip of his wand, Remus replaced the mirror. “Whoa! I didn’t know this existed!”

It was common knowledge there were many secret passageways hidden in Hogwarts. The location of which were less known, but if that had been common knowledge too they would no longer be secret. “James and- my friends used to have a knack for finding these things.”

“You all must’ve done quite a bit of sneaking out, huh?” She joked while following the passageway down a little bit.

“A fair share of it sure... though we weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Remus wasn’t lying, but he knew that on more than one occasion James and Sirius used a few of these passages to impress a pretty girl. He supposed he was just a little late on the trend.

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t. Where does this go?” (Y/N) asked out of pure curiosity, though now that she thought about it, it was probably good practice to know where you were going.

“It comes out right outside of Hogsmeade. Of course that’s a long walk, I know.”

“Well, that’s okay. I feel like I could use a break.” She smiled and began walking with Remus. (Y/N) felt like she’d gotten a good bit better at juggling what had left her so overwhelmed her first week officially working at Hogwarts. However, these past couple of days had been a little hectic and she should’ve 100% been grading those homework assignments McGonagall asked if she could take on, but couldn’t refuse the offer.

Remus quite fond of the walk they shared. He asked about her years at Hogwarts and her family and she inquired the same. He didn’t think he could recall the last occasion he’d really taken the time to get to know someone or had them try and do the same. By the time they reached the end of the passageway, (Y/N) knew that he was an only child and had quite the sweet tooth even as a boy. He knew that conversely she came from quite a large family, but she’d agree that dessert was definitely the best course.

The room they’d arrived in was quite large, but it was obviously that anyone who knew of its location has long abandoned it. It showed no signs of any visitors in probably years. Still, (Y/N) found it to be quite a fun visit. A little dusty sure, but nothing a quick flick of her wand couldn’t fix. “Well, now that we’re here what are your plans?”

“Right...” Remus didn’t think that far ahead, which he would like to say was a bit unusual. Of course the ultimate goal had been to spend alone time with her, but now that was accomplished... “I ought to be better prepared ne-“

She was well aware it was rude to interrupt people, but she she would do it anyways. (Y/N) stood on her toes and grabbed hold of the front of his sweater and yanked Remus down to her level. She thought the act of crashing her lips into his might’ve been a little sexier had she not been so short in comparison. Remus however did not mind one bit hunching down to her level. This thought had definitely crossed his mind, but hadn’t want to be too forward. Now that he thought about it, he should’ve seen it coming. (Y/N) was very forward with what she wanted. Back at the Three Broomsticks she’d commented that she didn’t make the first move, but he supposed that wasn’t entirely true. He wasn’t complaining though. It was quite the opposite as he immediately responded, kissing her back and circling his arm around her.

(Y/N) broke away with a wide grin, “That wasn’t your plan?”

Remus chuckled, and straightened himself out, “No, but I’m always open to suggestions.”

(Y/N) pulled away leaving Remus quite confused. Perhaps she was annoyed it hadn’t been his sole intention to snog the woman. He felt better when she made her way to a wooden table set in the center on the room. He was certain she would sit down but instead she turned to face him. A small moment of hesitation seemed to cross her mind before she spoke, “I hope you wouldn’t think too little of me if I confessed this had been my plan...”

(Y/N) wasn’t lying. She’d desperately been hoping for an uninterrupted moment alone and wanted to be prepared in case she got that moment. Now that she had it well she hoped it wouldn’t be entirely too fast for the man.

Remus watched as she kicked off her shoes. She then pulled her shirt over her head and her pants had been the next article of clothing to follow. The undergarments that had now been exposed to him were quite nice to look at, especially with the model wearing them. The way the lace laid so perfectly against her skin made his heart beat just a tad bit faster and left him staring, or better yet ogling her. He felt a little lame, just standing there. He had hoped, counted on being close to (Y/N). He’d hoped they would’ve had a chance to - This just far exceeded what he’d hoped to accomplish.

It also wouldn’t have been untrue to say he’d been a little out of practice. Not new or naive to the subject, but it definitely wasn’t something he did on the regular. He normally was well aware of the fact it was nothing to be ashamed of, but did feel himself grow a little uncomfortable with the fact as she stood there in front of him. He definitely hoped he wouldn’t disappoint.

Staring was probably a better sign than him getting up and walking away. (Y/N) did wish he’d say something though. She felt so entirely vulnerable and was now a little fearful of rejection... “Too much?”

Her voice snapped Lupin back to reality. Her face showed she was starting to feel uncomfortable, and Remus felt terrible. That had definitely not been his intention. He decided it best if he just shut off his head and led his instincts take over.

In an instant he was in front of her, lifting her into the table bringing her to a much more comfortable height for him. His lips were on hers and if the first kiss had been good, well this one had been amazing. (Y/N)’s confidence quickly regained and excitement took over knowing exactly where this was going. Her legs parted, allowing her the opportunity for Remus to settle between them and her to pull him closer.

Remus’ hands met the bare skin of her thighs and traveled up and down her leg. The skin of his hands was so rough comparatively, but the contrast felt so unfamiliar and welcome. (Y/N) couldn’t help but be hyper aware of everywhere he touched and everywhere she wanted him to do so. Patience was a virtue wearing thin on her at the present moment and she found her hands quickly pulling the cost from his shoulders and working a few buttons on the shirt that he was wearing underneath. She was much too impatient to care enough to rid him of the entire shirt, once a few buttons were undone and it had been untucked she gave up on the task. She favored dipping her hands underneath the fabric, she just wanted to touch. Remus shivered a bit against her fingertips.

(Y/N) abandoned his mouth and trailed her kisses towards his neck. Remus was being absolutely driven mad by the nibbling. A gasp interrupted her and Remus smirked as his fingers carefully brushed against her clothed core. His touch was so light it could’ve almost been construed as an accident, if the knowing look hadn’t completely given him away. Ever the tease, and partially because he was no where near done with her, Remus didn’t give any indication there would be a follow-up. He moved his hand up actually and drug his fingertips lightly across her shoulders and chest, outlining the bra she was wearing. She arched into him, whimpering just a bit; she had no idea Remus Lupin was such a tease and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it. (Y/N) had never been one to beg in the bedroom, of course she’d never really been with anyone taking such time and care; it was usually a heated spur of the moment type of setting (kind of what she expected from this). Still, there was a first time for everything, “Please touch me...”

Really Remus could’ve been content sitting there doing nothing but stand there and egg her on. It would’ve been torture for him too, but listening to the noises she made and feeling her breath quicken under his fingertips would’ve made it worth it. But her plea was too much, and Remus not only felt obligated but he wanted to oblige her request. Reaching behind he unclasped her bra and threw the unnecessary article to the side. He placed a chaste kiss to her lips before getting right to what she wanted.

(Y/N) felt like he was setting his skin on fire, everywhere his skin met hers like a flame had been held to it. Remus’ lips trailed from her neck to her shoulders and finally... her breath hitched when he made it to her breasts. Though she didn’t have much time to think about the way his tongue flicked over her nipple, because almost simultaneously he’d pushed her underwear to the side and his fingers brushed against her again. “Fuck...” She hissed.

Remus used his thumb to rub circles across the bundle of nerves and sank another inside of her, and relished the way her hips bucked against his hand. The way she arched herself into him... Remus couldn’t help but imagine how good how much better it would feel to have his cock buried deep inside her rather than his fingers, especially when he felt her clench around his digit. He didn’t know how much more her could handle, so without a second thought when she asked her obliged, he gladly accommodated.

Remus withdrew his hands from her body and unbuttoned his trousers in record time, and in less than a minute his hardened cock was able to spring out of its confines. (Y/N) watched him almost as intently as he’d watched her. She was much too excited to just stare though. She’d thought about this more than she’d care to admit and after already having a taste of what he could do she jumped to her feet in front of him. (Y/N) had been ready to return the favor (plus a little extra), but even though the idea sounded heavenly Remus just didn’t have the patience.

Given her stature it wasn’t a hard task to turn her around and bend her over the table. Once she’d been fully laid across the table, only the tips of her toes touched the floor. It left her feeling rather small and like she was completely at his mercy, but the vulnerability just seemed to heighten her senses. She let out a low sigh of anticipation when she felt him line himself up with her entrance.

Remus felt a flash of reluctancy... this young woman had seen parts of him that people hadn’t in quite a long time. He didn’t think he could possibly pull himself away from her at this point, but should he try? He didn’t think, no he knew he couldn’t give her what she deserved outside. Her impatience put an end to his internal sabotaging, “Remus, I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

His response she quite enjoyed. A moan left both of their mouths as he entered her. She felt her insides stretching to accommodate the most pleasant of intrusions. Then he pulled out almost completely before thrusting back in earning a cry of approval from the woman beneath him. (Y/N)’s imagination couldn’t compare to the real thing and she hoped she would be able to remember every detail on his hands digging into her hips holding her still and the drag of his cock as he pulled out, or how amazingly full she felt when he slammed back in hitting spots she hadn’t been truly aware of herself.

Remus’ name fell from her lips like a prayer, a praise, a chant and he couldn’t think of a single thing he enjoyed hearing more in that moment. His rhythm was starting to suffer, but he was hanging on her dear life. As soon as he felt her body spasming around him, he let go. Emptying himself inside of her and feeling a joyous release of pleasure and pressure that had been building inside of him.

Remus stayed still for a moment before summoning the strength to pull out. His breath was labored and (Y/N) was also trying to catch her breath. “I think I might need just a moment before that hike back.”

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#harry potter imagine #fanfics #harry potter marauders #fanfiction #imagines #harry potter smut #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut

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summonerscenarios · 3 years

Note

So, mc adopting at least one of each of the Child mobs, how would that go?

IT MAY BE 4AM BUT THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE LETS DO SOME MF HCS.

Sadly I was only able to work on two of the mob kiddos as I didn't want this to get too long but I still hope its okay~!

Also just a heads up a lot of this is a pure waffle of information based on my own interpretations of the mobs so here's hoping I did a good job with them lmao.

---------

It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d ended up inadvertently adopting someone, nor will it be the last knowing your luck. It’s not like you intentionally do anything to draw people to you, it just so happened that the things that you did and situations you got wrapped up in led to you getting to know all kinds of people in the process. And those people saw you in all kinds of ways - most saw you as friends, others saw someone else in you, more than a few made no attempts to hide their blatant flirting - and, rarely, a few would even see you as a role model,a mentor or parental figure to look up to.

You honestly have no idea why, after all, it’s not as though you go out of your way to make particularly responsible decisions (if anything, you get yourself in enough trouble that you’d imagine you’re anything but a role model) but a lot of the younger transients and students seem to flock towards your presence, looking for comfort, advice, or just someone who respects them. At first it was just the younger members of your guild that you technically took under your wing - as the Guildmaster you assumed it was only natural to look out for them, and you’d long gotten used to protecting Agyo and Kijimuna, wanting to make sure that the only thing they had to worry about was having the chance to be kids rather than getting dragged into the Guild’s app-based affairs. It’s not like responsible parental figures are easy to come by in this world of app-battles and fighting, so that’s perhaps why when you start taking a more protective, nurturing role with the younger ones that more of them begin popping up.

Surprisingly, the ghosts are some of the first mob children that you noticed began flocking towards you. Roaming spirits are unusual but certainly not rare, and it honestly breaks your heart a little to see so many young ghosts lingering around in the unexplored corners of the city, searching for one thing or another. Things feel...off, for a while before you can pin down the issue - you start feeling as though you’re being watched when you’re in the guildhouse by someone other than your teammates, and when your attempts to shake off the uneasy feeling doesn’t work, you decide to bring it up to your fellow Guild members in case it’s someone trying to spy. You want to make sure it’s not someone who can bring danger to the guild, but you don’t have much of a chance to set up a search of the building when the D-evils come tottering into your field of view, screeching up a storm and motioning towards an otherwise unassuming corner of the window.

Turns out you weren’t the only one noticing the other presence, as Shiro’s D-evils seem to have picked up on it to - and when your attention snaps over to the window to see what they’re pointing to you barely catch a glimpse of the flickering figure of a ghost child as they disappear from view. From that point on you start spotting the child more often - he’s shy or wary, always lingering someone just out of the corner of your eye but never getting any closer almost like he’s afraid. He seems to have taken an interest in you though, especially whenever the younger guild members come around to spend time at the guild, and it isn’t long before you notice that he’s intently watching the way you watch over and care for the kids of the guild - he looks almost sad in these instances, but never dares to get any closer and disappears as soon as you turn to look at him. Over time it becomes almost normal to have a resident ghost at the guild (though Agyo still shudders at the mention of ghosts despite having seen the kid plenty of times since arriving). He seems to be more at ease after a while of watching you, and things finally come to a head one day when you’re playing videogames with Hanuman and the other kids, noticing that the little ghost has wandered far closer than he’d ever done in the past, watching the small screen setup on the floor with an avid interest that seems far happier than the forlorn looks he’d had before. Taking a chance you tilt your head to look over at the ghost child, motioning him to come over and join; he disappears for a moment, startled, but right as you start to worry you may have scared the kid off he rematerializes, inching hesitantly closer and closer till he’s hovering beside the rest of your group, eyes fixed to the characters on screen with a child-like wonder.

You aren’t quite sure how this ended up with you adopting the ghost child yourself. It’s just one day you were talking about how you were pretty much adopted by the teachers at school and how you’d like to pay it forward some day, and the next you were talking about ‘son’ this, and ‘might as well take the kid under your wing’ that - you were practically acting like an impromptu parent for like a fifth of the people you knew anyway, so what was actually adopting a child? Toji had just about choked to death when you’d made the unfortunate decision to announce that fact mid-drink, and Shiro spent more than his fair share of time probing you with the legal questions surrounding a student adopting a child, ghost transient or not. Ryota seems incredibly excited by the idea however, gushing about being an uncle and wondering if your new son can eat and if so what his favorite food is - plenty of questions for a later time.

Ghost is certainly the most clingy of the children you end up adopting, and it’s clear from the get go in the sense that the poor little one is essentially glued to your side from the moment you take the venture to actually adopting him. With few things remaining in the physical world to cling onto, the familial bond is something that the little one cherishes and he absolutely refuses to budge on letting it, and by proxy, you, go. For a while he actually fears you’re going to leave him and take back what you said about protecting him and being a good parent. He of course had parents once, and their lack of presence at his side now paints a tragic picture no matter what way you look at it, so the kids got more than a few attachment issues you need to work through. Ghost doesn’t really talk too much, instead relying on gestures and interacting with things around him to talk to you and others - it takes a little bit to get used to if you’re unfamiliar with some of the gestures but it’s easy to pick up as time goes on.

Definitely one of the more well behaved children of the bunch, given that once you’ve convinced him that you’re not abandoning him he’s dead set on making you proud. He gets antsy when you’re not around, spending most of his time at the guild when you're at classes, but he takes to following Agyo around instead during these times. Agyo’s more than a little startled at first, and is a bit awkward about the whole situation as he processes it, but before long Agyo’s not only getting along with your ghostly son, but he’s also teaching him the ‘lion dog duties’ that he’s been teaching you - you’ll never quite forget walking in to Agyo giving the poor kid a detailed rundown on the upkeep of the guildhouse and all that it pertains.

It was supposed to only be the one child, you swear, but damn if you haven’t got a bleeding heart and a knack for attracting trouble. Word travels around fast about your adoption, and as more people learn about your impromptu push to parenthood people start coming to you for help - namely, kids with nowhere else to go. Maybe it’s your bleeding heart or savior complex, but before long one kid becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough you’ve got four kids on your hands.

There’s no denying that things get a little bit rocky when you start taking in other children. Despite the other kids in the guild, Ghost has technically been the only child up to this point, and with your attention shifting from both him and the other children at once it’s a sudden change - one that you thankfully discussed with him first to make sure he was okay. Even with the okay though, Ghost is more than a little anxious when you bring the second child, a nether sprite, ‘home’, especially because of how loud she is by comparison. Nether sprite is an absolute ball of energy and mischievous to boot, so she more than makes for an interesting parallel to the otherwise quiet Ghost you’ve been taking care of the past few months.

She’s a handful, especially during the first few weeks that she’s settling in - it takes her a while to really start seeing the place as home, and even longer for her to even consider you a parental figure (she’s seen you as more of a babysitter till you proved you were willing to stick around and put the effort in to be a good parent). Once she does settle in however she takes to the place quickly, and, to your surprise, your two kids become thick as thieves. The Nether sprite catches on quickly to how Ghost communicates, and given his penchant to linger around those he’s close to and follow them around she’s more than happy to drag him all over the shop from one activity to another - it’s a surprising development but one you actively encourage. Unfortunately as I mentioned she’s still mischievous, though tones it down from anything too troublesome if it’ll cause you too much grief.

However that hasn’t stopped the amount of times you’ve gotten calls from someone about the kind of trouble you two little ones have wound up getting themselves into - looks like they both picked up your knack for getting intentionally and unintentionally dragged into the weirdest events (sure, it’s fun when you do it, but having your kids doing it only serves to give you grey hairs from the stress.) And things only get crazier once the other kids end up coming along, for both better and worse - but that’s a story for another time.

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #housamo mob #housamo ghost #housamo sprite #housamo lantern #housamo nether sprite #request #ask #gzgs222-blog #first post in....hooo boy #a WHILE #i think im a little rusty so please bear with me while i get back on track #i will probably do one for the ciramantep and jiangshi in the future #but for now we got the ghost and the lantern #a fitting combo lmao

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caterpellas · 4 years

Text

munich nights • harry styles

summary: touring inseparably as best friends and musicians, yours and harry’s relationship takes a cruel turn in munich.

warnings: smut (oral m recieving)

genre: bestfriend!harry, friends to lovers(?), angst, smut

pt 1/? (two is here) word count: 4k

a/n: this is my first time writing in like a year so some feedback would be amazing, pls be kind and show some love to my crumby attempt lol

chapter playlist :D

harry.

he was sort of your anchor. unspoken, of course, that he had taken such a high profile role in your life. he didn’t need to know, to know. you were certain it worked in reverse, that you grounded him just like he did for you.

you’re not sure of the timestamp on the beginning of your friendship, sometime 3 years ago after mindlessly chatting in a shoreditch bar, at the sort of venue you were both cackling over after a couple of overpriced gin and tonics.

“i’m not sure why i came here, it really isn’t my scene,” you said after calming your laughter down.

“me neither. i’m not all that into £18 cocktails made with organic fruit juice,” he jested back, although you felt a hint of sadness in the next, “it makes me miss home.”

after that you clicked instantly.

you both bonded over being musicians; your styles contrasted entirely though. his band, who you met a few occasions later, were the antithesis to yours. mitch and sarah looked and sounded like they were fresh from a 70’s pop rock band, whilst your bassist and drummer, both twins, had buzzed heads and black dr martens on 24/7. the differences between you and him didn’t matter in the slightest. which is why, after 18 months of building the strongest friendship you’d had in your life, he asked you and your band to come on tour with him.

touring with your best friend and now biggest fan was the single greatest experience of your life. you would admit to the apprehension you first felt about opening for harry as your music wasn’t exactly in keeping with his genre- you were a little grungier then his soft style. i suppose the opposites between you is what enhanced everything about your relationship, musically and personally. in articles harry was always praised for his effeminate fashion choices, and since gaining some recognition as his opener, the articles were now mentioning how you dressed too, hyping up your more boyish, ‘can’t be bothered’ clothing taste you’d developed over your years in the band. your shoes were always chunky and platform, your top or bottoms usually oversized and always with the same thick chain around your neck. to some, your style seemed intimidating but it couldn’t be further from the truth. harry knew that best of all.

3 months into the tour now, you had made it to munich for the 1st night of your european portion of the tour. you and harry were sat next to one another on the plane, sharing an earpod each, playing music from your playlist titled “h”. you hadn’t been able to sleep on the overnight flight, after reading a particularly disturbing article about harry’s recent paparazzi shots. “harry styles’ player ways making a comeback?” it read, and pictured him with a couple models you’d met in new york together after going out for the night. you couldn’t place why but the article made you feel sick. you put it down to seeing such a close friend’s name slandered in the press, and you hoped he hadn’t read it yet. harry was often disheartened after reading the gossip people like to spread about him, occasionally involving you as well.

“you seem very deep in thought.” harry’s morning voice could be heard over the sound of steely dan in your ears. turning to him, one of his eye’s peering at you, you reply, “not really- just thinking about the set list.”

“you need to switch off your work brain sometimes,” he grins up at you, “have a little more fun! munich will be great, lots of beer to try.”

“of course that’s what you look forward to most. you know munich is filled with some beautiful architecture and history right?”

“that’s great and all, but you know what else they have?” harry questions you and you shake your head.

“oktoberfest.”

you arrived at your airbnb not long after- harry’s band and yours all preferred staying in a large house or apartment then some posh hotel that didn’t feel quite as welcoming. harry’s manager picked the place out, opting for a villa that sleeps 10 people, filled to the brim with oak panelling and a big fire place in the centre of the room. there was a hot tub outside that would probably never be used in your short stay there. the kitchen had a large island in the middle and a big aga keeping the place warm in the late september weather. his manager really outdid herself this time.

“this is place is so beautiful,” you still weren’t over all of the beautiful places this tour had taken you, the short time you’d been travelling had been a sensory overload.

“you’ll really like munich, y/n,” harry said yawning, grabbing both your shoulders from behind. his touch took your mind back to the article.

“harry,” you started, reluctantly turning to face him, “i know it’s none of my business who you, you know- fuck, but i was just wondering what happened with those models after i left?” harry’s calm expression never faltered as he answered, “me and camila kissed in the taxi but then i went back to the hotel. why?” you didn’t have the strength to answer honestly, and tell him it was because the thought of him having a threesome with two supermodels made you physically wretch, but you felt an obligation to give him a somewhat truthful answer.

“i saw an article about it, the paps caught a glimpse of it,” you white-lied. if you were going to be honest with yourself, the reason him with people like camila and gina bothered you so much is because of the way you compared yourself to them. you were overall confident, you were proud of your style and “gives no fucks” attitude you’d built up over the years, but these were literal models. women who were paid, like paid a lot, because they were beautiful. harry’s dating history has had a lot of women you could never measure up to be as good as and that was a real confidence breaker.

“well anyway, are you ready for tonight’s show? we were thinking it would be cool if you guys came on with us and...”

harry, as per usual, performed with all of his heart and soul and yet again amazed you. he had been doing this for three months, playing at least three shows a week and his energy levels were still unmatchable. you were back in your dressing room, taking off your stage clothes and putting on an almost identical outfit, wiping the sweat off your brow and upper lip. the monitor in your room played harry’s set, and you had to find any way you could to distract yourself from his performance before you ended up fantasising about the way his sweaty curls cling to his neck and how you wished he was sweating like that just for you, for an entirely different reason.

“thank you so much munich!” you hear harry’s accent through the small tv, and look up to see him panting and grinning, before running off stage. you had no idea why, but tonight there was a small amount of nervousness about you. since reading the article, you’ve had to address the gnawing idea that you could possibly have feelings for harry that were more than just your deep set friendship. would you act differently about the man you loved more than anyone in this world? you didn’t want things to change- they were perfect with him. he’d jest with you when you became too much of a perfectionist about your latest song, telling you to stop thinking so hard or you’ll have an aneurysm. if people commented on his style or yours, he’d laugh it off and tell everyone he’s “the woman in the relationship” sarcastically, and you’d be in awe at how he essentially said a huge “fuck you” to gender norms. he made you comfortable being you and you coveted his ability to be so happy being him. the thought of this bond being broken frightened you to your core. the knock at your door was a good signal for your thoughts to end.

“you coming y/n?” the group of you were all headed to a german beer bar, since harry was so eager to try the world famous pilsner. finding a large lounge space with sofas inside the bar, you all sat and ordered a round, celebrating a good night’s work.

“to the first night in europe,” you toasted, “cheers!” all your glasses clinked together and the nervous feeling started to fade finally. sat next to harry, you discussed the tour so far, he told a story about being in one direction and it reminded you of a hilarious story from when you were 15, when you used to listen to emo music and swore how much you hated one direction, and they all laughed at the irony. if you had told your 15 year old self this was where you’d be at 21, you’d have snorted and laughed till you cried. but life works out in strange ways and you wouldn’t change it for a second. a few drinks in and any of those nervous feelings about what harry was to you had evaporated like alcohol till you eventually had to remind yourself that whilst your hand was on harry’s knee, it meant nothing. and the way he leans forward to you as he laughed at your not-so-funny joke. but those reminders were getting weaker the more his touch started to linger after he went to go and grab his pint the same time you did.

“we really must stop meeting like this,” he jokes as your hand rubs against his for the 50th time that might and you laugh at him because your afraid if you don’t play it off as a joke you’ll lean over and kiss him. you find yourself in need of a distraction from his low buttoned shirt and endless black ink drawn across his chest that you can see in high definition when your this close to him.

“i’m going to get another round,” you exclaim dramatically, telling yourself more than the rest of the group. making your way over to the bar, you can feel harry’s vision bearing into your back as you lean against the counter to get service.

“another round of pilsners on the table’s tab please,” you ask as soberly as you can. you’re not off your face yet, but the alcohol is definitely present, surrounding the corners of your vision.

“i’d rather by you a drink.” a slightly german accent crowds your ears and you look over to see a man, not all that different to some of the guys in harry’s band, smirking at you.

nervous, you reply, “no you don’t need to do that we have a tab here.”

“i insist.” afraid to be impolite you quietly thank him, and turn back to the bar. you can’t even think of chatting to guy at a bar whilst the man you love is sat so close by. even though it’s not returned, the pain of giving him up to flirt with a stranger is too much to bare.

“so what brings you to a local’s bar like this one?”

“me and my friends are working here for the night.”

“just here for the night? such a shame,” his smile, although attempting to seem unthreatening, is making you uncomfortable. the bartender seems to be taking forever with your order.

“i’m staying in a hotel a few minutes away, come and join me and their bar for a real drink?” your heart was pounding. you rarely got hit on so you were a little out of practice on how to deal with persistent assholes like these ones.

“i can show you how the germans like to do it.” that was it- he’d gone too far and you were so embarrassed by this point you were too humiliated to even reply to him. your neck was getting hotter and you could feel your cheeks reddening.

“you okay?” harry’s voice took you out of your panic-stricken state, “you were taking a while.”

turning to harry and preparing to tell him how this man won’t get the message, the german creep pipes up, “she’s fine mate. we were just discussing a date.”

“listen mate, i suggest you back off. alright?” harry grabbed your hand, tightly, and guided you out of the bar.

“harry where are we going?” you could barely comprehend what had happened in the last five minutes to even realise he was hailing a taxi.

“back to the house. i’ll text the others.”

“harry i’m fine honestly it’s no-“

“who said i was fine? i wanted to leave and i thought maybe you did too.” he was angry, which wasn’t something you saw in harry often. he was a happy guy, and optimistic about most things in life.

“is this because of that guy?”

“of course it is y/n.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t realise he’d be an assho-“

“why’re you apologising?”

this shut you up. you didn’t know why. this wasn’t the first time a guy had been slightly predatory towards you and you doubted it would be the last. after the first couple times your in situations like this you tend to see yourself as the problem and not the guys doing it.

“i don’t know, harry.” you climbed into the cab together and harry gave them the address, seeming somewhat cooled off from earlier. your head was buzzing from the alcohol and the fact that harry had essentially rescued you from what could have been a scary situation.

“harry?”

“yeah, y/n?”

“why did you kiss camila?” alcohol had made you more outspoken and you asked the question that had been driving your nervous energy all night.

“why are you asking?”

a little more honestly then last time, you answered, “i’m just curious.” harry shifted in his chair, slightly unnerved by the question. his whole demeanour had shifted entirely from earlier. he was close and warm with you, the friend you’d become addicted to being with. now he was closed off and moody- a rare sight for anyone who knew him well. you could have picked a better time to ask the question, of course, but you had to know. you had other questions too, like why he was so angry right now, and why did he care that i was chatting with a guy at the bar, even if he was a creep.

“because she wanted to kiss me and i wanted to kiss her. the same reason most humans kiss,” there was a slight element of humour back in his voice now.

“and that was it?”

“yep.”

“hmm.” you tried to ponder this, but your attention span was limited when you were this inebriated. your thought process had quickly moved from harry’s sex life to harry in general and his outfit of the evening- a personal favourite. he’d worn white cream trousers with a vest top and an unbuttoned short sleeve shirt, along with the necklace you’d given him last christmas. you could see his two swallows peaking from the straps of his wife beater and your mind wandered to the thought of having your mouth against them. against all his tattoos, individually placing a kiss on each and everyone that you had grown to fall in love with.

you remembered the memory of harry coming with you to get your largest tattoo, a greek statue on your upper arm.

“harry you know this isn’t the first one i’ve gotten?” you laugh at how hard he was clutching your hand in the chair next to your seat.

“i know but i’m so excited for you. i want you to know i’ll be sat here the whole time to hold your hand,” he squeezes your hand to emphasise his point.

“harry i’m getting another tattoo not going into life-altering surgery.”

but inside, you were squealing at his words.

“y/n?”

harry’s less chipper current voice took you out of your memory and back to the cab in munich.

“you’ve been staring at my chest for a couple minutes,” his brows were furrowed as he studied your face.

“i want to lick it.” if someone had asked you why you answered with that, you genuinely couldn’t give them a good answer. alcohol didn’t do much to you, except allow you to have fun, and lose any sense of a filter. now was a perfect example of the effects. harry’s eyes widened at your candour- and so did yours. his calm expression only faltered for a few seconds though, before it returned to his neutral, warm face.

“what else?”

“i-uh- what?”

“what else were you thinking about?” your heart was beating so loudly you were sure harry could feel it across in his seat. why was harry asking this? you didn’t want him to know about your thoughts- they were far too embarrassing and far too private.

“i was thinking about all your tattoos,” you confessed.

“i was thinking about yours too.” you thought about all of your tattoos and remembered the dog rose you had on the back of your thigh, as well as the koi carp on your hip bone.

“which ones?”

“the flowers and the fish.” you gulped, knowing he was thinking of your most risqué tattoos.

harry, unusually, was completely serious as he said, “i thought about licking yours too.” you didn’t know where you stood with harry now. you were sat in a taxi, having the conversation with him that you thought would never happen. he wants you the same way you want him. he may not want you the same way a nagging voice told you. he could just be looking for an easy fuck, and you thought to yourself that even if that was all he wanted, you’d still give yourself to him.

“harry-“

“maybe we shouldn’t talk anymore, yeah?” you felt like you could cry- how could he not want to talk, and you were on tour together? this was the most gut wrenching feeling to have him tell you not to talk anymore. harry studied your face as you lip began to quiver, “jesus y/n i meant about the current conversation. of course i want to keep talking to you, i love you- you know, like a friend.”

“like a friend?” you couldn’t ever begin to describe how your heart felt like it fell to the pit of your stomach whilst the acid slowly burnt it away. friends is it. harry isn’t yours to have and he never will be, he just had to remind you in words of this.

“well we’re both a little drunk and clearly turned on- maybe just this once it could be more than friends? just for tonight, i mean?” harry’s clear green eyes didn’t stop looking into yours, and he seemed, i’m not sure, hopeful? as if on cue, the taxi took you back to your villa which was warmly lit from inside and you felt a nervous excitement crawl up your arms and legs at what could possibly come next. harry gave the driver the cash and you dashed quickly to the door of the house, the cool september air cutting through you both dressed inappropriately for the time of year. it dawned on you that your outfit- a big vintage men’s shirt with your oldest and favourite pair of dr martens with sheer tights- wasn’t the wisest choice. harry fumbled with unlocking the door and opened it to find the fire lit and the lights dimmed. it was more romantic than either of you would ever mention out loud but it felt like the house was routing for you. you weren’t sure where harry wanted this to go next, the air beginning to stiffen and feel awkward.

turning to face him, you started, “harry i-“ his lips met yours in an instance and any of the awkwardness left in the room had been dissolved by harry’s soft kiss. he tasted good, despite the beer you’d both been drinking and had you not been intoxicated by the pilsner and harry’s gentle touch, you’d probably care about things like breath. harry grabbed you by the shoulders, much like he did earlier that same day, and guided you into the room further, finding the large sofa and pushing you onto it. falling back, you glanced up at his towering figure. harry was already tall, but his powerful presence added a less literal height to him, and his shadow looked over you. you couldn’t help but stare at him as he shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, exposing some of your favourite tattoos of his. you got to your knees so that you were closer to his body and you finally relaxed in his presence, touching all the places you’d dreamed about. your hands raked up his torso to his chest and his head leant down to kiss you again. his lips were perfect and seemed made to be against yours so tightly, and made for the crook of your neck as well as they kissed and sucked there too. the fire in the corner of your eyes illuminated the small amount of gold in harry’s hair and he looked as angelic as he always did in your dreams.

“am i better than him?” harry murmured against your neck. the question caught you off guard. he’d only known one other person you’d had a sexual relationship with since you two became friends and that was a sound tech from one of his old touring groups that you had a small fling with. him and harry never got along and harry even accused him of purposely messing his sound up during a performance once. harry has walked in on you giving him head in your dressing room once and it was incredibly awkward but you both moved past it.

“who are you talking about?”

“you know, that arsehole sound tech from the american tour. do i kiss you better than him?” you could hear the layers to his voice- he was asking with a confidence that you felt straight in your core, but there was another layer to it- insecurity.

“god yes,” you gushed, he had to at least know how he physically made you feel even if you can’t admit your feelings, “you kiss far better then he ever could.”

an idea came into your head at this, “in fact, i bet you’ll feel better in my mouth then he did.” harry jaw slacks slightly and you give him a shy smile. talking like this wasn’t something you ever tried when you were having sex, but harry made you want to be honest. it was the closest you could get to confessing your love to him, and you’d take what you could get from harry right now. stunned into silence, you continue to undress harry, removing his vest to expose his lean stomach and small trail of hair from his belly button, that you kissed all the way down. he let out a sharp breath as soon as you got to the top of his pubic bone, and you finally noticed just how hard harry already was. with a little fascination, you dared to take it to the next level and cupped his length through his trousers, causing harry to groan at the contact. he felt big in your small hand, you couldn’t wait to reveal him, impatiently struggling with his zipper.

“woah, y/n, slow down,” harry puts a finger under your chin and you look up under your lash at him, knelt below him. his smile is a classic harry smile and for a brief second this feels like more than a casual fuck.

“you’re still wearing too much clothing.” harry bends slightly to get to the bottom of your shirt and speedily pulls it over your head, revealing your black cotton bralet and tights. harry’s mouth watered at the sight of you in nothing but your underwear and boots, your long hair falling in messy waves around your minimally tattooed arms. your sure your black eyeliner is smudged and your gloss practically jin existent but harry’s eyes make you feel like he wants nothing more then to fuck you.

“that’s much better,” he smiles again at you, and you take that as a good cue to continue on his member. eagerly, your hands go straight back to his flies, rapidly undoing them and letting his loose fit trousers fall from his hips, exposing his form fitted boxers and you get a much better idea of just how big harry’s cock really was. without realising you mumble, “i want you in my mouth so bad,” under your breath.

“fuck say that again.”

looking under your lashes again, you repeat, “i want your cock in my mouth so bad.” harry groans as his eyes roll back, his words almost being enough without your touch. but your hand still went back to his dick, pulling it out from the restraint of his boxers. it was thick and bigger then you had been with before. without missing a beat, your hand pumped him a few times, and his hips reacted instantly. as if beckoning for your lips to surround his cock, his hips thrust towards you again, and you obliged, licking and then parting your wetted lips for the head of his dick. the pre-cum touched your tongue and it urged you to take more of him further, swiping your tongue on the underside as you push more in. harry moans, gripping your scruffy hair in his large hand, and had to restrain from pushing your mouth around his whole length. as your mouth got acquainted with him, you started to move up and down the length, as harry’s moans got higher and louder.

“y/n your mouth is fucking magic.” the praise went straight to your clit and your underwear was dampening at the knowledge of the dirty things your mouth was doing.

“can you- fuck- can you grab my balls?” you responded immediately and cupped them lightly whilst continuing to bob your head on his cock.

“didn’t know you could you use your mouth for such dirty things, y/n. do i fill you better then he did?”his jealousy fuelled you to go even quicker, this time switching up to concentrating on his swollen head, your tongue lapping against it feverishly, whilst your hand pumped the rest of him. the combination of your hand and mouth was enough to drive harry insane.

“you do so good y/n, i’m gonna cum soon okay?” you release him from your mouth, and keep stroking him, eager for him to orgasm. you couldn’t describe the desperation you had to see the way he looked as he climaxed. if you were to die after this, you knew you would die happy, if only to have seen harry in that state of euphoria that only you could bring him to.

“fuck y/n i’m gonna cum,” harry pants, his thighs tensing and his eyes glazing over. you aim him over your chest and feel his load fall all over your breasts, soaking your bralet as he lets out a breathy moan. his breathes are loud and aside from the fire crackling are the only noise filling the space of the living room. you let his now soft cock go and fall back onto the sofa, too tired to think about all of what just happened, the only thought on your mind is of harry’s moans on repeat. your chest is sticky but you’re too exhausted to care. harry has slowly crept over to sit next to you on the sofa, and you’re unspokenly thankful he hasn’t distanced himself afterwards.

“i need to clean you up.” harry disappears as quickly as he arrived and comes back with a warm flannel. wiping your chest, you watch his face as his brows furrow delicately on his forehead and his mouth is slightly crooked in concentration. you loved every single portion of his face, and suddenly it meant something different. you had seen his face at it’s most real and vulnerable and you had that memory forever.

unfortunately moments like the one you and harry had finally shared don’t last forever, and once harry’s done wiping your breasts off, he leaves a kiss on your forehead, grabs his clothes and leaves you on the sofa.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #friends to lovers #bestfriend!harry #fine line album #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles icons #harry styles one shot #writing #one direction smut

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failedintsave · 3 years

Text

I tried the MTL pairing generator for rarepair month...aaaand it told me to stay in my lane lol. And then it told me to write some Rachel/Roy Cornickleson which I just don't think I'm ready to take on 🙃 So here's some Skwistok set just before Doomstar that I've been fiddling with.

(gets just a little nsfw near the beginning)

Stages

Everyone handles grief differently.

Skwisgaar groaned as muscular arms pushed him against the wall, the reinforced metal door to his room on the submarine banging shut as they cleared the threshold. Hands tangled in his hair, holding him in place while lips and tongue and teeth worked over his neck. He clung desperately to the body pressed against him, fingers twisting in blue cotton material and yanking it upward. The mouth latched onto his throat pulled away as the t-shirt was hauled over his head and Toki's fevered eyes found his before rushing forward again, mashing their lips together with sloppy abandon. He gripped Skwisgaar by the belt, half dragging him as they stumbled their way to his bunk and collapsed. Breathing came in gasps and sighs as Toki's weight pinned him down into the mattress, the pressure both exhilarating and mollifying, an anchor to hold onto as the life he'd known for so many years turned upside down and twisted away in the wind.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of innocence, loss of trust, loss of opportunities. It was all meaningless, really. In his experience, something new always came along to fill the space so why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

Boots thumped to the floor, kicked off in haste. His shirt was peeled away before sturdy hands lifted his hips to free him of his jeans, calloused fingertips gliding back up his thighs and making him shiver. Toki climbed up to kiss him again, hungrily, as if trying to swallow him whole, their teeth knocking against each other. Skwisgaar ran his hands over every inch of skin he could reach, the hard lines of Toki's shoulders, the raised ridges of overlapping scars on his back, hip bones where they ground down against his own. Heat pooled low in his belly like magma aching to erupt. He wanted this, needed this right now, more than he'd ever needed anything in his life. How long had they danced around this, stealing moments and blaming it later on booze or post-show adrenaline, walking right up to the line and peeking over before backing away again? In the name of preserving band dynamics? A lot of good that had done, they'd still ended up where they are now, Dethklok tipping over the precipice into self-destruction.

Another loss to add to the list.

Toki pulled back, glacier blue eyes raking over Skwisgaar's features with manic light, chestnut locks of hair falling in disarray to frame his face. Skwisgaar reached up and tucked a strand behind his ear and Toki's expression shifted, the wild yearning softened into something gentler, less wolfish. He sat up to kneel between Skwisgaar's legs, hand skimming from his collar bone to his navel and leaving a trail of fire, over the inside of his thigh and dipping beneath, pausing until Skwisgaar breathed his assent, whispered his name.

Fingers tested gingerly, gradually increasing in depth and pressure before he gripped him by the waist and hauled him onto his lap. Skwisgaar canted his hips, lip catching between his teeth at the feel of Toki against him, his pulse hammering in his ears. His head angled back into the pillows and a wordless moan escaped his throat when Toki eased forward, back arching as lightning raced up his spine. Skwisgaar's fingers knotted in the bed sheets as Toki released a shuddering breath over him, rocking into him slowly, building rhythm into a steady push and pull.

Loss of professional boundaries. Definitely not something to be mourned.

The devastating sensation of fullness where they joined drove all coherent thought from Skwisgaar's mind and his eyes rolled back under closed lids, panting nonsense and expletives, begging for release. His toes curled as Toki matched stokes with his hand to the tempo of his thrusts, coaxing him through his climax until tipping over the edge after him with a whining sigh. Call and response, Skwisgaar thought dazedly as his superheated skeleton melted into jelly. When he could open his eyes again, his gaze landed on Toki's face above him, watching him with an openly heartsick expression.

"I… hads to do dat… at least once before dis ams all over." The broken whisper settled over him like a burial shroud.

Skwisgaar shook his head, holding out his arms. "Come heres."

Swallowing thickly, Toki obeyed, winding his arms under Skwisgaar's shoulders and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Skwisgaar shifted to find a comfortable position, their sweat-slick chests sliding against each other as he angled slightly onto one side, hand cradling Toki's skull to keep him near.

"Seem pretties stupids we aments been doing dat dis whole time, honestlies."

Loss of time.

Toki held him tightly and Skwisgaar felt the tremor in his grip. He rubbed his cheek against the crown of the other man's head, humming tunelessly as he waited for him to speak, knowing already the fears plaguing his mind. He'd faced them often enough in his younger days, even if the scenario now was more complicated. It was hard to compare wondering where your next gig, your next meal ticket, might come from to wondering where to go after you'd already stood at the top.

Sniffling preceded the feeling of wetness against his shoulder, Toki mumbling against his skin. "What happens now? Ams we all just gonna says 'fucks you, see ya laters' now dat de band ams done? Even now dat dey tells us we gots to plays music to saves de world?"

Skwisgaar fiddled with a strand of brown hair for a moment before answering. "Well, I don'ts know abouts all dis saves-de-woirld business. But whats I do know ams band break ups. And, euughh, ja dat ams a pretty standords opseratings procedures."

"But does it has to be likes dat? We coulds all stays pals, right?"

"Dat ams...compslickateds." He dropped the lock and let his hand fall to Toki's shoulders. "Somet'ing like dis...people tends to ezpecks yous to euughh, picks sides. It ams messy. And it never warks out, t'ings always comes apart in de end."

Loss of the longest working relationships he'd had in his life.

Toki said nothing, so Skwisgaar continued if only to fill the silence. "But it coulds be worse, you knows? We gots more moneys den god, what's so bad what cants be fixed wif dat?" The statement produced a cold feeling trickling down behind his ribs, like swallowing a heaping spoonful of snow. "Nones of it acktualies matters. Just goes on to da next t'ings."

"I just... don'ts know what to does if dere aments a Dethklok."

"Whatevors you wants! You coulds buy de whole stores of airplane models, or you coulds builds you own splasharoonies water parks. Hell you coulds probablies starts a new bands wif dose guys from dat T'underhorse group."

"No," Toki murmured, face still compressed against Skwisgaar's neck. "I don't wants a new band. Dis was da one."

The possessive satisfaction he felt at those words tied his stomach in guilty knots.

"Ja it ams was a pretty good gigs…"

Toki shifted, laying his head on the pillow next to Skwisgaar's, his forlorn gaze searching his face for answers. Skwisgaar rolled so they were laying face to face, legs still twisted under the sheets.

Not everything was tied up in the feud that caused the band to split. What if it didn't have to be a total loss? Surely there were parts here that could be salvaged.

"Okej...so who says we haves to do anyt'ings at all?"

Toki's brows cinched. "What you means?"

Maybe, just this one thing, he could keep.

Skwisgaar's lips curved with the ghost of a smile. "I's already mades it to de top, ams de fastest guitarist alives...coulds be I shoulds just quits while I gots de title, ja? Retires, takes my ball and goes home wif it."

Toki snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Builds mineself a giant house up in de mountains or somet'ing. Or travels and just fucks off on de resgiduals forever, not worries about a deadlines or demos ever again. Plays guitar just for funs."

He saw his grin mirrored on Toki's face as the other man nodded dreamily.

"Maybe you...comes wif me?" Fluttery nerves tickled behind his sternum. "If you wants to."

Toki's eyes widened. "Wait. Whats?"

Just this. He could be happy with this.

"Y-you means it? You aments just messings with Toki?"

He shook his head. "How long dids we waste before nows? For not'ing. I'm sick ofs waitings. Let's just goes."

A heartbeat passed, and then Toki's mouth was on his again. Less frantic this time, hopeful rather than desperate. He cradled Toki's jaw, taking his time as he returned his affections, deepening the kiss and tracing languid strokes over his neck, his shoulders, his chest. Their limbs wound together in a twisted bramble, bodies drawing tightly together, fitting like puzzle pieces.

A repetitive, discordant riff sounded from the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor and Toki's head jerked away. Flashing an apologetic grin, he rolled away to fish his phone from his pocket, sliding his pants up loosely around his hips.

"Sorries, be rights back!" He whispered, pressing the screen to answer. "Oh hei, Rockso!*

"Hows do you even has signals down here?" Skwisgaar called after him as he stepped into the hall, then flopped back onto the pillows to stare at the ceiling, counting the shiny rivets in the metal plating.

This was doable. Tomorrow they would bury more than just a mentor, they would lay to rest their careers as the biggest metal band in existence. The world at large would mourn their passing, but Skwisgaar wouldn't dwell on what's done and over. Not if he had new prospects to look forward to. Something always came along, and he never looked back.

"I tolds Magnus dat I woulds sit wif hims tomorrow." He heard Toki's muffled voice through the crack he'd left in the door.

A shadow passed over his thoughts at the name, like someone walking across his grave. It was uncomfortable to say the least, to have their former guitarist back in the fringes of their lives. Toki had a habit of finding friendship in questionable places, but where the clown was mostly an annoyance and sometimes a financial drain, his relationship with Magnus left Skwisgaar apprehensive. It didn't ease his mind when Toki insisted the older musician was different now. How could he know? He hadn't lived with the man, hadn't walked on eggshells during every rehearsal or songwriting session, hadn't watched as he plunged a knife into a bandmate.

But Magnus had also saved Toki with his insulin. He'd been there for Toki as a shoulder to lean on when the band had started to fall apart, too preoccupied with their own issues to spare a minute for their youngest member.

So maybe Toki was right. Things change; he'd never expected that a wedge could be driven between Nathan and Pickles far enough to end their friendship in such a catastrophic way, but here they were. And if Magnus still harbored any resentment for the band, their breakup was probably a balm to the old wound of rejection. What else could he wish on them? He was probably loving this.

The door scraped shut and Toki slipped back into the blankets gingerly, as if expecting Skwisgaar to be asleep. When he saw that he was still awake, Toki leaned in with a grin.

"Sorries...now, where was we…?" He murmured, capturing Skwisgaar's lips tenderly. "Oh ja, you was tellings me how we's gonna runs away togedders into de sunsets."

"Pfff. Dat am hardlies what I saids."

More kisses peppered his cheek and jaw. "Dats what I heards."

"Well I always knew yous was tone deafs, I didn'ts realize you ams just all de way hards of hearingks." His arm encircled Toki's back as the brunette nestled in again.

"Tells to me about wheres we gonna goes. Tells me about our house on tops of de mountains."

Skwisgaar snorted. Of the two of them, his was not the more vivid and fanciful imagination. But staring up at the blank canvas that the brushed metal panels of ceiling created, he envisioned a future for them to share. They squabbled playfully over locations and home design styles. They named off outlandish things they would fill their home with, like an even bigger ruby metronome or a trampoline room or an indoor pool shaped like a guitar and filled with champagne. They listed places they'd toured that they wanted to visit again, and locations they hadn't been yet but had always hoped to see.

"Can we gets a cat?" Toki asked suddenly, making Skwisgaar laugh airily.

"If we haves to?" He laughed again as Toki nodded against him. "But I'm not cleaningks up after it, dat ams all you, pal."

"Okei." Toki sighed deeply, settling in more comfortably. "Okei. I feels a lots less scareds now about all dis."

His hand glided up from where it had been resting at Skwisgaar's hip to lay warm over his heartbeat.

"I'll miss Dethklok. A whole lots. But now I t'inks I ams acktualies looking forwards to what comes next."

Still staring at the steel plates above, Skwisgaar grinned at the pictures they'd painted in his mind.

"Ja, me toos."

He covered Toki's hand with his own. However much they stood to lose after tomorrow, his heart felt lighter at what they were about to gain together. There was no reason to dwell on what was gone.

Everyone handles grief differently.

Laying on his bunk, Skwisgaar's eyes roamed the scuffed plate ceiling overhead, lingering on rusted rivets and water stains. The imperfections seemed to move and writhe like crawling insects under the influence of whatever handful of pills Pickles had given him. A half-drained bottle of vodka lay cradled against his chest, the mouth stoppered by his thumb. Fire burned in his belly from the alcohol, but cold fury pulsing through his veins tempered it.

He'd been prepared for Dethklok to end, had even accepted the idea that his career as a guitarist was over, diminished to a hobby. Playing guitar was his lifeblood, his purpose, and he'd been about to let that go. What had he been thinking? How had he gotten so wrapped up in fantasy that throwing away his entire self had seemed like a plausible course of action.

Loss of objectivity. Fortunately it seemed to be temporary.

He took a long pull from the bottle, dribbling a little and not bothering to wipe it away. Stupid Toki, needing to be comforted like a child with make-believe bedtime stories. He couldn't just man up and move on like everyone else, like Skwisgaar had been doing since he was a teen, finding his next audition, his next couch to crash on, his next temporary alliance with subpar musicians to make ends meet. It couldn't have been an easier landing for him either, no concerns about hunger or homelessness or deportation hanging over his head. He was set up for success and still couldn't handle it.

Fucking idiot needed so much attention, so much coddling, he'd even run straight into harm's way to try and make a friend. Of all people, he'd had to choose Magnus, that vindictive bastard. Of course he'd still been carrying a grudge, when had he ever let anything go in the past? And they'd known it.

A pair of divots on the ceiling stared back at him, one dark, one catching the light. Glaring back at him mockingly, winking at his impotent rage.

They'd known. They'd known, they knew, they knew.

Skwisgaar knew. And he'd said nothing.

Then he'd watched again, frozen, as Magnus drove a knife into someone close to him.

Skwisgaar thrashed upright, a strangled roar bursting from his lungs as he flung the bottle at the wall. He kicked at the bedside table bolted to the wall, denting it from below, then spun around to tear the sheets from his bunk and hurl them across the room. This wasn't the trade he'd prepared for, this wasn't the deal he'd made with himself.

His eyes fell on his Explorer propped in the corner. He reached for it, wrapping both hands around the ebony fretboard, holding it like an axe and swinging it against the wall. He bashed it into the floor, the dresser, screaming until his throat was raw and the guitar was cracked into useless chunks of wood and fiberglass connected by twisted strings. He dropped the pieces in a heap, sinking to the ground to lean against the side of his bed, his shoulders heaving with labored panting.

The door of his room scraped open, and in his periphery he saw a figure standing, backlit by the dim red glow in the corridor. Broad-shouldered, straight hair dangling about their head. His heart seized for a moment before the figure spoke, shattering his hallucination.

"What are you doing in here?" Nathan's gravelly voice was cautious.

Skwisgaar didn't turn, eyes still focused on the debris ahead of him. The stainless steel guitar strings seemed to wriggle like worms in grave soil, consuming the corpse of his instrument. He waited until he caught his breath before trying to respond.

"What does it looks like I'm doingks?"

Nathan shifted in the doorway. "Losing your mind."

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Loss of sanity? Maybe.

"You've been locked up in there a while. Maybe you should, you know. Come out here. With the rest of the band."

"Fucks off."

Nathan didn't move. Skwisgaar felt the urge to rage at the other man rise in him, to shout in his face, demand to know why it had taken him so long to patch things over with Pickles, why he let it go so far that he'd upset all of their lives so horrifically. But the feeling passed, his body drained from his previous outburst and from trying to filter a pharmacy's worth of substances through his liver.

"We're gonna find him, you know. Charles has people everywhere looking already."

One shoulder rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "Whatevers. Who cares."

They could have been a four-piece. If he really wanted to rage at someone it would be his past self. How different would things be right now if he'd never given that gutter rat a chance after missing his audition time? How much of what they achieved would they have really missed out on? How many rerecording sessions and stupid arguments and publicized blow outs could have been avoided? What would they really have been missing?

He certainly wouldn't mourn the loss of a constant source of annoyance. Of an immature tag-along with a hair trigger temper. Of a loud and boisterous whirlwind of silliness and color and sincerity.

Loss of his shadow. Loss of his muse. Loss of his best friend. Loss of his future. Loss of…

Loss of…

He couldn't breathe.

"Just leaves me alone. Please." He gritted out, proud of the steadiness of his voice as his stomach began to roil and his eyes prickled with tears.

Nathan hesitated. "Should I...close this?"

Skwisgaar nodded and after another moment the steel frame clanged shut. His vision blurred as tears welled and spilled over, his breath returning in short gasping puffs which rolled over into sobs that rattled his frame.

They'd had one day. Not even a day. An evening. Hours.

He wept until he was sick, vomiting clear liquor and not much else onto the floor next to the remnants of his guitar. He wept until his tears were spent and his head throbbed in tandem with his heart, even though he didn't understand how the muscle still carried a beat when the rhythm had been taken away.

Eventually he had nothing left. His face felt swollen, his eyes were gritty. Skwisgaar rolled to his hands and knees, avoiding the puddle of sick as he rocked up onto wobbly legs. He looked at the door, wondering if the others were still awake. If they were sitting in the lounge, drowning their sorrows. He felt like he wore a lead weight around his neck, bowing under the pull of it. It might be better just to sleep.

He turned to the naked mattress, but a scrap of blue on the floor near the foot of the bed caught his attention. A faded cotton t-shirt lay where it had been discarded. Skwisgaar stared at it for several long moments. He stepped closer to the bed, to the shirt.

And kicked it underneath the frame and out of sight before turning for the door.

He'd never given much energy to grief. Life was just a punctuated string of losses in the long run. Loss of purpose. Loss of self. Loss of connection. Loss of…

It was all meaningless, really. So why dwell on mourning what you couldn't have back?

#skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #skwistok #dethklok #metalocalypse

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

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Vacations With The Batboys HC! (batboys x reader)

req: "Can you please write a hc of batboys x s/o traveling for vacay?"

i love this! i also included like where you'd go and stuff it was so fun!!! Thank you for the wonderful request i hope you enjoy!

Dick Grayson:

- Dick would want to go somewhere tropical, probably bahamas or hawaii

- after like a week in vacation Dick looks godly, he's picked up an even tan and slightly disheveled shave with floofy hair - he looks like a model

- at the beach he will throw you in the water at least twice

- spending days in the sun sipping iced drinking talking about life is pure perfection

- he holds your hand no matter where you go

- doing all the cringe coupley things together because even if you don't want to Dick will BEG YOU

- buying little trinkets to remember how much fun you had

- mile high club on the plane ride home???

- you might have to go back early because of an emergency and Dick will spend the next few days trying to make it up to you but the few days you had in paradise were perfect

Jason Todd:

- Jay likes to take you on long drives to beautiful places, he says that when he died one of his wishes was to have made time for more beauty in his life and with you he tries to fulfill his dreams

- after a drive full of long conversations, epic rap battles, and fast food stops the two of you will either stay at a small rental or camp out

- Jason's fsvorite adventures are hikes to pristine waterfalls

- he's even found some private areas and will try to convince you to go skinny dipping with him in lakes or rivers

- sometimes you'll hike to the top of a massive hill and relax together, Jason will make corny jokes about you being prettier than the view while you roll your eyes

- after a long day you enjoy wrapping yourself in his embrace and drifting off, knowing your both completely safe together

- taking Jason away for a week brightens his mood, restores passion in your relationship, and overall betters world; when Red Hood returns home content and in a rather good mood, it's like community service if community service was hooking up on top of various cliffs for a week straight!

Tim Drake:

- because Tim is often really busy so full week vacations are not really doable, but he often takes you on his week/weekend business trips

- his favorite is going to Las Vegas with you

- Tim is business during the day but after the sun sets his tie is slung over his shoulder, the top three buttons of his dress shirt are undone, and his wallet is suddenly very open

- because he's a freaking genius you'll spend the night winning giant hands of cards until they realize you and Tim have been counting cards all night

- walking down the strip at 3am with your heels in your hand, Tim's face covered in lipstick from all your good luck kisses, and a giant recpiet from your nights wins is a high like no other

- the day after is spent nursing water and advil and Tim trying to convince you to let him leave the Wayne business and become a professional gambler

- everyone thinks you and Tim are quiet and easy going, they imagine a trip to vegas is very taxing on such introverted people but you both know the truth of letting it all go but-

- what happens in vegas stays in vegas baby

Damian Wayne:

- vacations with Damian are often forced due to an injury that needs healing or a situation that needs deescalating, Dami is never good at holding back her own wit so you'll be tasked to get him out of Gotham

- Damian brings every single one of his pets or he sends them to Jon's farm, he refuses to leave them uncared for by his beastly older brothers

- because of the abundance of travelers you'll usually rent a pet friendly cabin in the woods, your favorite time of year is when it's snowy and peaceful

- curling up with Damian you'll read a book aloud while Damian sketches whatever view he has in the cabin

- the scent of the smokey crackling fire mixes with Damians cologne perfectly and you'll usually doze off in his arms

- Damian will make you food from his culture, he always pretended to hate cooking in front of his brothers but when it's just the two of you he'll admit his fascination behind the science of cooking

- vacations with Damian feel like a pocket of regular life, the only stress is whether Titus needs to wear his jacket when going out not if a super villain is taking ove the world

- upon returning home you'll find Dami's sketchbook is filled cover to cover of rough drawings of you and his pets, some he drew as he watched, and you can see the detailed movement he was portraying. others were from memory, like the excited look you gave him trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue

- damian won't admit it but he looks forward to vacations with you, having his own simple, perfect family for a week with his dear beloved

hope you enjoyed! let me know which boy you'd go with!

#tim drake #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #batboys #batfam #bruce wayne #batfam headcanons #batboys headcanons #dc headcanon #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #nightwing #red hood #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x y/n #red robin

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winterrose527 · 3 years

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The Favor, Part 2: Rome, Italy

(Part 1 can be found here)

Rome, Italy

“I totally could’ve been a gladiator,” Theon determined as they left the Colosseum.

Jon nodded, “I can see it.”

Robb turned to look at him, “You can?”

“Oh yeah,” Jon agreed, readily, “I often have daydreams of Theon being eaten by lions.”

Robb chuckled as Theon and Jon circled one another.

He had no idea how either of them had this much energy. They’d taken well advantage of the Roman nightlife last night, and hadn’t gotten in until the sun was rising. And what a sun it was. It had to be over a hundred degrees out here, sucking all of the energy right out of him. That mixed with tourists.

The fact that he was one didn’t temper his disdain for them.

He didn’t like to complain, but he couldn’t wait to get to the seaside. They had a train to Naples the next day, and from there they’d go to the Amalfi Coast. They’d stay there for a few days, before flying to Ibiza to meet up with some friends. He was then heading to London to start his new job, and the boys were flying home.

This trip was a bit of a farewell tour to their youth. Or, that’s how he felt now but he always got a little dramatic when he was hungover.

They’d graduated in the spring and thanks to all having their next steps lined up for the fall, had one last carefree summer. Theon was heading to law school, Jon to work for Mormont, who he’d been interning with since his freshman year, and Robb was off to London to put his degree in international business to good use.

When he’d made his decision to take the offer, Theon had suggested a bit of a Eurotrip to send him off and Jon had readily agreed. Since he’d only ever been to France, on a trip with his entire family when he was seventeen, he had jumped at the opportunity for a proper send off.

They’d been making the most of their travels, Theon falling in love with a different girl every night, he and Jon certainly having their heads turned from the sights as gorgeous European girls walked by them arm in arm.

“I need to take a piss,” Theon informed them.

“Me too,” Jon said and then clapped Theon in the chest, “Let’s go to that café, I need another espresso or I’m gonna die.” He looked at him, “You want anything?”

Robb rubbed his temples, “Just a water – flat. FLAT FLAT FLAT.”

Italy’s obsession with sparkling water was the only thing he didn’t like about it.

“I believe you mean agua naturaaaale,” Theon informed him.

“Dude, stop trying to speak Italian,” Jon sighed, “You get laughed at every time.”

“Pardon me for trying to break the Ugly American stereotype,” Theon argued.

“You literally are wearing American Flag shorts as we speak,” Robb pointed out.

“You come for my Chubbies you make me question our entire friendship,” Theon all but shouted at him.

Jon held him back and then pushed him across the street, the two of them nearly getting hit by half a dozen cars on their way over. People were honking, tourists were pointing.

So much for overcoming the Ugly American sterotype.

He looked up at the Colosseum. It had been one of the places he was most excited to see, though he knew that was pretty cliché of him. He couldn’t help it, though. He’d always been fascinated by the bloodier bits of history, and sure, yes, maybe seeing Gladiator had been a defining moment in his youth.

It was unbelievably impressive, structurally, obviously, but as he had walked through it he hadn’t been thinking about that. He hadn’t even been thinking about how gruesome it was.

He’d honestly been thinking of how he would have performed.

Most likely he would have gotten eaten by lions as well as Theon but maybe –

“Excuse me?” an American voice interrupted his thoughts.

“The entrance is over there,” he pointed.

“Yeah the um, line of people sort of tipped me off,” she joked and he turned to her.

Her voice was familiar, but that was only a passing thought when he took her in. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

A bonafide All-American beauty.

She looked familiar, too. Is she a model? He wondered if he’d seen her in a commercial or in one of Sansa’s magazines. She had the face for it, though admittedly she was a bit short. She hardly even came up to his shoulder.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I don’t think so but listen okay so this is going to sound crazy – I actually can’t believe she talked me into it again, but um… can you just – um… please don’t… I can’t even ask…shit.”

He was sort of overcome watching the cutest panic attack he’d ever seen, when all of a sudden she was kissing him.

Oh.

He knew her. Of course he knew her. She had dominated his thoughts for the entire summer in between his junior and senior years of high school. In fact, when he’d shown up for his freshman year of college, he’d have been lying if he hadn’t looked around, hoping to see her at orientation. Though it had been years since he’d thought of her apart from a passing memory.

While he was sorting all of this out, she was kissing him and his arms had wrapped around her without thinking about it.

“Thanks,” she smiled as she pulled away.

“Got it!” a voice said off to the right, “Come on Ella, we’ve got to go!”

“Ella,” he smiled, drinking her in.

“That’s me! Anyway, thanks for your help,” she said, and started to walk away, “You’re a really good kisser. So um, well done.”

He laughed, watching her walk away. A brunette girl going and linking her arm through hers, the pair walking away from the main line of people to a shorter one.

“Wait!” he called, realizing that this was happening again.

He’d made a mistake letting his Mom pull him away last time. He should have gotten her number. Her full name. Her agreement to be his forever.

“Ella-,” he called, but she’d disappeared in the throngs of tourists.

Damn this hangover.

He started moving through them, determined to catch sight of her. She wasn’t in line, but then he heard a laugh that had to be her and he looked through to see her walking into the Colosseum with a smaller group.

There was a guard posted at the entrance she must have gone through.

“Uhh… ciao um… yo necessito, fuck no that’s Spanish,” he sighed, the guard looking at him, “Look I need to get in there really quickly.”

“Private tour,” he shook his head.

“I know, I know I’ve already been in I don’t care about the Colosseum -,” the guard looked at him like he’d just insulted his mother and he shook his head, “No I do it’s great but there… did you see the beautiful girl that walked through here? Blonde? About this high? She is… very very bella,” at this point he was wondering if his butchering of the Italian language could be considered a hate crime but she was now nowhere in sight, “Please can I just go in for one minute.”

“No,” the guard said in a bored tone.

“Look,” he sighed, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Fuck off, man!” the guard shouted at him.

“Alright, alright!” he backed up.

He went around the large line of people and found Theon and Jon looking around for him.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Theon asked as Jon handed him a bottle of water.

“We need to get you guys out of the sun,” Jon said, “It makes me uncomfortable when I’m the one in the best mood.”

“Shut up for a second,” Robb told them, looking around for more exits, “Look, she’s here.”

“Who is?” Theon asked, “That crazy girl from Prague?”

“No! No, her. The girl who kissed me in Paris, do you reme-,” he started.

He was cut off by the groan heard around the world.

Theon shook his head, “I’m not going through this with you again, man.”

Jon was rubbing his temples, his eyes wide but on the ground, “I really thought we were past this.”

“No, shut up, listen to me, she is here. It just happened again,” he told them. “I was just standing here and she came up to me and she’s even hotter than she was then and she just kissed me.”

“Did she know it was you?” Theon asked.

“Um I don’t think so,” Robb answered.

“And where is she now?” Jon asked.

“In there,” Robb pointed to the Colosseum.

“Okay, so let’s review,” Theon said, “This girl has twice now come up to you - a total fucking stranger and asked you to kiss her. Neither time has she in any way tried to prolong your acquaintance. How do you know she isn’t doing this to a different guy in every city she goes to?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Robb warned.

“Don’t do this,” Jon shook his head, “I am not listening to you moon over her for the rest of this trip. I will chuck you over the cliffs of Ravello.”

“So help me find her,” Robb pleaded. And then without warning shouted, “ELLA!”

“Dude!” Theon warned.

“Seriously security is eyeing us,” Jon noted, looking around.

“Guys - ow stop pulling me!” he ordered as both Jon and Theon had grabbed an arm and were currently dragging him away.

“Wouldn’tve lasted a day in their man,” Theon shook his head.

He looked back, as though she might be peering at him through the ruins even now.

The next day as they were on the train to Naples, his heart stopped every time he saw a blonde walking by.

“You’re torturing yourself,” Jon told him.

“I should have waited,” he shook his head.

Jon and Theon shared a look, which to his eyes looked a bit guilty – which they should since they all but carried him away from her – and leaned forward.

“Look, if she’s the one, you’ll see her again,” Jon promised.

“And in the meantime, you’ll meet a good English bird and forget all about her,” Theon suggested.

Robb scoffed.

As though any girl in the entire city of London could hold a candle to Ella.

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella #fluff #silly silly silly

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oldguardhc · 4 years

Text

Old Guard hc #56

Prompt number: 17 - “Give me a minute or an hour”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

AN: @flamingbluepanda encouraged me to write a Psych AU for this prompt

Joe cranes his neck to get a better look at the body. The puncture wounds are interesting, each one spaced at least four inches apart, all at differing angles, both in entrance and position meaning whatever killed this man wasn’t just a random attack. If they were closer, Joe would have thought they were bite marks and maybe they are, but the last time he checked, there were no animals in the ocean or on land with a bite-radius that large and teeth spaced that far apart. At least, there’s nothing alive today that has a 34-inch bite-radius.

“You getting something, Mr. Kaysani?” Chief Freeman asks.

Can it be? The bite marks are looking to be more of a match the longer he stares at them. “I’m…getting something,” Joe says, snatching the yellow pad and a pen from Andy and ignoring the small huff of irritation she lets out.

He starts with a brief outline, it’s been a while since he’s drawn one of these and he has to use small strokes to get the head right.

“Wait, I think this is a boating accident,” Andy says, and Joe briefly looks up to see her point at the body. “Head trauma from…from falling off the boat. Hit a motor maybe?”

The eyes are tricky. Should they be looking straight or at the viewer? Joe decides the viewer for a more startling effect.

“The wounds on his back, they were caused by a…by an industrial crab trap. Yes, a crab trap. Or a whale. A lonely whale that got lost from its pod and traveled East, West. Saw our floating guy from below, thought it was a seal and…you know, had a little chomp.”

The teeth are definitely not his best work. The teeth to mouth ratio are way off and they’re definitely not as uniform in real life like he drew them. It’ll have to do for now. He adds a little shading to the drawing, giving it a more realistic appearance.

“A whale?” Booker slowly asks, when it seems like Andy is finally done with her explanation.

“What’s your guy got?” Nicky immediately shoots back, coming to his partner’s defense.

Joe can practically hear Booker’s smug look, “Watch and learn, Genova. Watch and learn.”

“Alright Kaysani, show me what you got,” Chief Freeman says.

Joe blows on paper and holds the pad to his chest, hiding his drawing from a peaking Andy. “First of all, I would like to say that this is not my best work. It’s a very rough sketch, the shading isn’t finished, the torso is a little plump and the teeth are…they’re not completely accurate. If I had more time, I would’ve definitely given them more shape, more individual characteristics. If I had my druthers, I'd have done this in charcoal.” Booker gives him an understanding nod and Joe would high-five him if he was standing right next to him, “You know what I’m talking about! Almost nothing beats a good charcoal drawing-“

“Mr. Kaysani!” Chief Freeman interrupts, crossing her arms and tapping her feet. “The verdict?”

Joe dips his head in apology, “Yes! Look, the key was in the puncture wounds,” Joe says, using his pen to point at said wounds. “They’re very unique puncture wounds. So unique in fact, that I was able to draw a semi-accurate profile of our attacker.” Chief Freeman gives him the look that says ‘Well? Get on with it’ and Joe turns the pad around and smirks at Andy.

Both Andy and Chief Freeman do a double-take and lean forward to get a better look. He resists the urge to flinch. It’s really not his best work and it shows. After a second of intense scrutiny, Chief Freeman shakes her head with a slight scoff and stalks off.

“Chief? Where are you going?” Joe calls out, still holding his drawing up. The culprit is right here! Well, not here here but here on paper. She’s halfway up the beach already and doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge he spoke. Great.

“Nice work, Kaysani,” Andy says, snatching her pen and pad back, a pleased look on her face, and runs to catch up to the Chief.

“A dinosaur?” Booker asks, mouth downturned, fingers working the buttons in his sleeves to roll them back down to a more professional length. No, we were supposed to get fish tacos after this. “Jesus, Joe. You couldn’t have shot for something in the last million years?”

Joe places his hands on his friend’s chest and steps in his way, “Give me a minute, or an hour to prove it was a Tyrannosaurus rex.” Booker shakes his head, the disappointed look doing funny things to Joe’s stomach, pats Joe on the shoulder, and steps around him to leave.

Great, just great. Even his best friend didn’t believe him. Joe rubs his temples, he can feel a faint throb and he hopes that it’s just a regular throb and not a foreshadow for a migraine.

“I thought the drawing was pretty good.”

Joe drops his hand and turns around. Nicky has that faint smile on his lips that Joe’s still trying to figure out if it means he likes Joe or likes likes Joe. He’s already made it obvious on multiple occasions how he feels about Nicky.

With Nicky’s looking at him like that, it’s so easy to smile. “Thanks!” And because no one else is here to witness his humiliation, he makes his smile a little more flirty. “You know, I can always use a live model.”

Nicky cocks an eyebrow at him, the faint smile still there, maybe even a little wider if Joe’s not delusional. “I’m going to go calm Andy.”

“Don’t die, I’d hate to miss your pretty face.” A light blush creeps up Nicky’s neck as he nods and jogs back up the beach.

Joe doesn’t stare at Nicky’s ass. He doesn’t, because that would be rude and Nicky is more than a beautiful body.

It’s a good thing the only witness is a dead body.

Joe turns back to the dead body. “Definitely not a boating accident.”

—

Joe slumps against the growing mound of dirt. He’s exhausted. He feels like he completed an Iron Man and climbed Mount Everest twenty times. Who knew being shot at could be so draining? To make matters worse, the throb from this morning was a foreshadow. His eyeballs are going to explode any second now with how strong his head is pounding. He digs his knuckle into the valley between his eyes until it hurts, it’s a different hurt than the one going on behind his eyes though, that it feels strangely good.

Joe sighs, at least one good thing happened today; he was right about the body. It’s a real shame he doesn’t have ‘Use a 20-year-old Tyrannosaurus rex model built by a 9-year-old Booker to solve a murder case’ on his bingo card. He would’ve been the only one to mark it down.

A bottle of water is placed on his lap and Joe opens his eyes, a ‘thanks, Booker’ on his tongue. Except, it’s not Booker standing above him, it’s Nicky.

Joe musters up the best smile he can despite feeling like death has crawled its way inside him through his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Your head’s been hurting all day,” Nicky says, crouching down, a small frown on his face. He pulls two packets out of his pocket and holds them out to Joe. One’s red and the other’s green. “I didn’t know if it was a regular headache or a migraine, so, I got both.”

Joe stares at the two packets. Nicky bought him medicine. Nicky saw that he was hurting and brought him something to feel better. Joe swallows the lump in his throat, reaches out for the red packet. “Thank you,” Joe says, brushing his fingers with Nicky’s.

The corners of Nicky’s lips tick upwards, “No problem.”

Joe tears the packet open and dumps both pills in his hands before tossing them into his mouth. Nicky has the bottle of water open and held out for him and Joe takes it with a grateful nod. Even though he swallows the pills on the first gulp, he finishes the whole bottle. Only when he’s done, does he remember that Booker might want some too.

“I gave him a bottle too,” Nicky says and that’s a sign, right? That has to be a sign of how amazing they would be together. “The pharmacist said those pills should work in 15 minutes.” Joe nods, he’s intimately familiar with the wonders of Excedrin. He would’ve taken one around lunch if they hadn’t been following another lead at the time.

“Thank you,” Joe repeats, closing his eyes again even though he wants nothing more than to stare into Nicky’s gorgeous blue eyes. He hears and then feels Nicky settle beside him, no doubt getting his suit all dirty, and he’s doing that for Joe.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Joe shakes his head, “You’ve helped a lot already. We just have to wait now.” Joe resumes his earlier ministrations, digging into that spot that hurt but was a better hurt than the one inside.

Cold fingers slide over his own, “Don’t press too hard, you’ll hurt yourself,” Nicky chides.

Joe grabs Nicky’s wrist and guides those cold fingers until they’re covering his eyes. Relief instantly hits and Joe presses those cold fingers harder against his eyes.

“Should’ve gotten an ice pack,” Nicky mutters to himself.

“S’fine, your hands are working.”

They sit in silence as they wait for the pills to kick in. Every few minutes, Nicky switches hands and Joe doesn’t even have to hold his wrist anymore. He knows how hard to press and it’s nice. It’s really nice. He can almost ignore Booker digging in the background and the occasional splash of dirt that rains down on both of them.

“Never thought my poor circulation would come in handy,” Nicky jokes when the migraine finally subsides.

Joe grins and reaches out to press a kiss to both palms. “They were lovely.”

“Please tell me I’m not going to have to listen to you two flirt the entire night,” Booker calls out from the hole. “I don’t want you two ruining my discovery.”

Excuse me?

“Your discovery?” Joe asks, crawling over the mound to look down at Booker. He’s made an impressive amount of progress. Probably only six more feet before they hit the skull.

Booker stabs the shovel into the dirt, both of his hands coming up to rest on his waist. “I’m digging, so yes, my discovery.”

Joe makes an outraged sound, “I found the right hole!”

“It wasn’t a hole! I’m making it a hole!” To prove his point, Booker picks up the shovel and tosses the next scoop at Joe.

Joe should’ve seen that one coming.

“Alright, I’m going to go home. Have fun digging, boys,” Nicky says and when Joe turns around, he’s brushing dirt off himself. “I’ll see you later?”

Joe nods his head probably a little too enthusiastically, “Definitely. Thank you again for the pills. I’d still be dying if you hadn’t have come back.”

Nicky smiles, the small one, and one day Joe’s going to see if he can get him to grin ear-to-ear, lips stretched so wide his cheeks will hurt. But not today. Today, he’s going to make history by being the first Psychic Paleontologist.

Nicky dips his head again and yeah, Joe hates to see him go but he sure as hell loves to watch him leave.

That ass is definitely better than a charcoal drawing.

A new spray of dirt rains down on him and that’s it.

It’s a shame no one is there to hear Booker’s loud yelp as Joe tackles him to the floor. Oh well, it’ll live rent-free in Joe’s mind forever.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #booker #nile freeman #fictober20 #andromache the scythian #hc

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hear-me-growl · 4 years

Text

Ambrosia | Ksj | Chapter VI (final)

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ Aᴏ3 || Dɪᴏɴʏsᴜs ·ᴘᴜʙ· ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀᴘᴏsᴛ || ↻ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut, humor, fluff, angst | s2l > ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: millionaire!Seokjin x bartender!, nyotaimori model!Reader > ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: mature [+18]; strong language and explicit sex > ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k

sᴇʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴅᴇx || ⟵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴠ

💙 ᴀ/ɴ: can’t believe this beast is finally done (though I might post a bonus epilogue, we’ll see 😉). Thank you so, so much for reading and leaving likes. Not gonna lie, it’s been a hard one to write, but also extremely fun. As my first story in English (and also my first BTS fic), it holds a special place in my heart. Also I may or may not be a sucker for this Jin. Now that it’s over, don’t be shy to let me know your thoughts. It’s important for creators that you give feedback, even if just a few words or a keyboard smash. You can make someone (not only me) very happy.

Ambrosia brought a lot of people to my blog and I’m super thankful for you all and very excited to write many more stories you’ll enjoy too. Once again, thank you for all the love and support.

Psst! Keep an eye out for the next update on the Dionysus ·pub· series. Did someone say Hobi?

“Thanks, you fuckers! We love you!”

The growl in the frontman’s voice raised screams and whistles that rumbled through Dionysus. Sweaty, ethereal and devilishly handsome, Taehyung bowed for the crowd chanting his band’s name. Everytime their signature purple bunny posters covered the beaten bricks of the pub, a mass of people flooded the establishment. V’s Moon Rabbits caused a frenzy wherever they played, waking the masses with their sound like a rockslide. The rock, jazzy melodies paired with the singer’s looks skyrocketed their popularity in underground Seoul.

However, no matter how many concerts and jam sessions were scheduled, they always came back to Dionysus —the pub that gave them a chance when nobody did.

After the performance, they usually hung out at the bar until they found a fan desperate for a chance to share the night with their idols. Doe eyes and sultry smiles in every corner, the boys never went home alone.

Tonight you didn’t work behind the bar, though. You just sat on a barstool, keeping your best friend entertained on her shift, ready to jump to her rescue if she felt overwhelmed. Not that she needed it, she handled the crowd with a big smile on her face. Beer in hand, you chatted animatedly with the blonde singer and Namjoon, the drummer, since the others had already found someone to drag to the bathrooms for an intimate rendezvous.

“You broke your drumstick. Again. You owe me 30.000.”

“I distinctly remember you mentioning both of them, so I’m not paying a single won.”

“C’mon, man. Don’t be a pussy,” Taehyung nudged his bandmate’s side as he took a sip of his beer. “Next time don’t make it so easy for her to win.”

“Yeah, pay up, Joon,” you chimed, a taunting tone lingering on your lips.

“Sorry, love. The rules were clear.”

The tall man leaned back on the bar and gave his signature jaw-dropping smile, flanked by two cute dimples. Who would’ve thought underneath all that there was the lady-killer of the century? You bent forward towards him, sniffing before wrinkling your nose.

“Does it smell like chicken over here?”

A snort came from your other side, Taehyung trying to conceal his laughter and you snickered along. Namjoon’s tattooed hands ran over his chin as he watched the both of you in amusement too before speaking.

“Tell you what it doesn’t smell like: money in your pocket. Now, if you excuse me,” he said, eyes fixed on a juicy target. His self-satisfied smirk turned sultry as his gaze darkened, “there’s a pretty doll over there not sucking my cock and I’d like to change that.”

In a flash, the drummer finished the rest of his drink, attention solely on the woman at the other side of the bar. Still perched on the counter, he looked at you with a raised brow. “Unless you want to join her?”

“Go get your dick wet already,” you nudged with a groan, fully aware that he wasn’t entirely joking.

Like a panther, he stalked towards his newfound prey, mixing with the crowd. Taehyung and you chatted for a little while. He differed from his charismatic persona on stage. V’s goal was to attract people with mysterious looks and alluring smiles, but Taehyung was much more reserved, rude even, except around his close ones. At some point, you noticed the cute girl behind him. You recognised her immediately and smiled warmly, inviting her to talk to the singer.

“Hi, Tae,” she greeted quietly.

Hearing his name, he turned around to face his number one fan. Her face brightened up with the attention.

“Hey, baby girl. Just arrived?”

“Err— yeah, I’m sorry I missed the show.”

“You’ve been to all of them for the past two years, I think you can skip one, ” he sneered. After that an awkward silence settled between the two. When he started to turn back to you, ending the conversation, she was quick to keep his attention.

“Do you… umm… wanna dance with me?”

“Not now, I’m talking.”

“Oh, of course! I’m sorry I interrupted,” she apologized, looking at you with doe eyes.

“No worries, sweetie,” you intervened as you shot a murderous glare to the man, the second-hand embarrassment urging you to help the poor girl out. “Stay and chat with us. What do you drink?”

Her eyes jumped from you to Taehyung nervously, a flash of pain through them when he lazily checked his phone, clearly indiferent. She swallowed a sigh, shrinking in defeat.

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to… my friend should be here somewhere,” she grimaced at her own excuse, but bit her lips and cocked her head before speaking again. “See you later, Tae?”

“I don’t know my plans yet, baby girl.”

“Right,” she whispered, looking at his side like he’d shot just her. After a beat, she cleared her throat, eyes on the floor. “Bye, then.”

She walked away, hand on her face to hide from the overflowing crowd and ponytail shaking. The singer took a sip from his beer, still on the phone. He didn’t even bother to look her in the eye to reject her.

“One: that was actually painful to experience, and two: you are a major asshole. That poor girl follows you like a puppy with heart eyes and you know it. Do you have to be so rude?”

“Hey, she knows what she’s getting into,” he answered with a shrug.

That naive fool. What a terrible mistake she made falling for Taehyung. To him there was no point in lying, so he proudly waved the “I’ll never be your boyfriend ” flag before anything happened and then jumped to the next roll in the hay without sparing a glance. Never settling, never making false promises. He was upfront about his intentions, so it never bothered you before, despite how tactless he was. Tonight, however, you felt pity at the heartbroken look in her eyes. Love brought more pain than happiness, she’d learn sooner or later.

Suddenly, something bumped into the barstool and you stumbled forward. Taehyung catched you before you could hit your head on the counter. With a snarl on display, you turned and yelled at the culprit, who zigzagged towards the exit, probably to smoke or take a piss. You scoffed. He probably didn’t even hear you, given his unsteady walk. Just as the door opened, a tall, neatly dressed figure entered the bar, stepping aside just in time to dodge the tripping drunk.

It took a second for you to register the tingle travelling across your skin like wildfire brought by the newcomer. You had felt it before, that twisted warm fuzzy feeling, a disease that spread and ruined people. All too familiar and foreign at the same time, like rewatching an old movie with new eyes.

‘You felt something that night and you feel it still’.

The words echoed in your memory, taking you a couple of weeks back. That night after the event was your last conversation with him and you thought you’d finally rid yourself of unnecessary trouble. Quite the opposite. You found yourself craving for something, no matter how much instant ramen you ate or how long you stayed at work to keep yourself busy. His silence was directly proportional to your uneasiness, but you refused to connect the dots.

Until tonight.

Faster than light, your head snapped back at the singer to avoid being seen. Reason overlapped panic as you assessed the damage. That mind-reading snake was right, you felt something beyond physical for him. At least now, fully aware of the issue, you could fix it. Keeping a cool head, you devised a plan of action. It was imperative to eliminate those thoughts before they infected your brain any further, to show both him and yourself that your interest was merely a passing malaise, like a cold or an indigestion. You just needed to find the right medicine for it.

“You okay there? You look like you either had an epiphany or smoked the worst weed in Seoul.”

Taehyung’s voice was low in your ear and you realised the lack of distance between the two. Feeling him chuckle, you looked up at him. You’d forgotten he was even there, hands still low on your waist. In a feeble attempt to regain some control over yourself, you grabbed the shirt over his taut stomach and swallowed hard. Half-lidded, he tongued the corner of his mouth revealing a smug smile. No wonder people lost their shit about him. He looked bewitching and fun, but most importantly, uncomplicated. The perfect remedy for your stupid, stupid heart.

“Kiss me,” you blurted, eyes locked on the mark at the edge of his lower lip.

“What?”

A quick glance back at the door and you frowned before closing the distance to press your mouth roughly on his. For a second, he seemed confused, but then responded eagerly to the kiss. When you pulled back, panting and determined, he tongued the corner of his mouth in amusement.

“Not complaining, but where did all that ‘I don’t make out with my buddies’ philosophy go?”

“As far as buddies go, you’re the shittiest one I have. Not much of a loss there,” you joked, shifting your weight impatiently. Now of all times, Tae had to grow friendship ethics. Although you should’ve praised his character development, right now was a rather inconvenient moment to be a gentleman. What you needed was a distraction in the form of an unapologetic fuckboy. Fast.

Luck on your side, Taehyung just grinned cheekily, happy to indulge your sudden neediness, and tipped his head towards the crowd. He let you guide him through Dionysus, to a dark spot where you’d fuse with the stench of sweat and bad ideas.

“Gimme a minute, ok? Don’t move!” Shortie greeted with a warm smile, waving above intoxicated laughs and the strings of an old song’s bass.

Seokjin nodded and leaned on the counter, avoiding the alcohol spilt all over it. Dionysus was especially crowded that night, which only made scanning the multitude in hopes to find you harder.

After your last conversation, he gave you some space, a chance to miss him. On paper, it was a good strategy. What he didn’t expect was his plan backfiring. After a couple of weeks of self-restraint, his will power ran out. He missed you. Instead of working on his next project as he should’ve, his car brought him across Seoul to you —his personal bittersweet pill. He couldn't help but smile, even when the air reeked of sweat and the sticky floor threatened to peel off the red of his soles. What wouldn’t one of those sensationalists that defamed him give to publicly gut him for his new-found addiction. Those ever-changing eyes that begged him to keep trying despite your constant rejection made quitting you impossible. Only if you would see it too.

“Now, I’m all yours. Sorry to make you wait,” said the petite bartender, already pouring his usual drink. “I’m happy to see you, it’s been a while.”

“Work has been busy lately. No help tonight?”

“If you mean it in a ‘ is my hot-ass crush here? ’ kind of way, she is,” your friend said, catching his intentions easily. Not that he put any effort in masking them, constantly looking around the place for you. “I don’t know where she went, though. She was sitting over there just a moment a— what the...?”

Seokjin followed her gaze, fixed intently somewhere behind him. Your body pressed against someone’s, fingers buried in blonde hair. Unable to look away, he watched a mouth clash against yours before traveling down your neck.

“Oh, Jin, I’m sorry. This dumbhead, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Taehyung? Really? He’s like her little brother.”

I’m pretty sure “little brothers” don’t stick their tongues down your throat . Shortie kept talking in the background, probably making excuses for you. To his surprise, the first thing he felt wasn’t anger or jealousy, but something close to satisfaction. An odd sense of pride filled his chest every time the blonde touched you where he had before, when he kissed over the skin he had marked as his already.

The man turned the two of you around, giving Seokjin a perfect view of your backside. Long fingers travelled down your spine, cupping your delicious ass with a rough squeeze. The same ass he remembered perking back for more despite the leftover sting his palm left behind. He couldn’t shake the vibrant shade of red he created that night, nor the soft whines you sang for him. Pretty eyes clouded with lust as you came on top of him, now etched in his memory forever —along with the iciness you left behind on his sheets the morning after.

With a fist full of his leather jacket, you laughed. Seokjin could tell it didn’t quite reach your eyes. In fact, it seemed like the attention on the man in front of you was only half-hearted.

Yes, he noticed the pink tint on your cheeks, the hips grinding on a thigh clad in ripped jeans and shortened breaths. But he was also aware of your eyes bouncing around the pub distractedly as your companion nipped your jaw. A smirk tugged on Seokjin’s lips. He’d seen withdrawal before, when his mother quit smoking. Gum could not replace a cigarette and a toyboy could not replace him.

Meanwhile, you kept trying to redirect your wandering thoughts to Taehyung, who locked lips once again, sucking on your lower one. Closing your eyes, you attempted to concentrate solely on his tongue on your mouth. The air was humid, too many bodies in one room. It stuck to your skin the same way it did at the club with Seokjin, but somehow thicker. Tae smelled rich and exotic, nothing like the subtle sweetness of his surely expensive cologne. You remember because it lingered on your skin the morning after, along with the marks he imprinted all over your body. You weren’t as excited for Taehyung to leave his.

Catching your train of thought, you emptied your mind and only allowed pleasure to invade it. You left out a sigh at the hot pressure running through your veins as his thigh flexed against your core just right. It was all you needed at that moment, a nice body against yours to fight the infection of Kim Seokjin. Large hands roamed your body, brushing your breasts on their way up to your hair and tangled there to deepen the kiss. Just when you had achieved the perfect balance between numbing everything around you and enjoying the feeling, the blonde whispered hotly in your ear. His low grumble shook you out of your blissed state, crumbling any prospect of eluding reality.

All of the sudden you found the spicy kisses bland. A light frown etched between your eyebrows when you studied his profile. It dawned on you that it was Taehyung who just told you to come all over his jeans. Taehyung. The same guy who sent you stupid memes while taking a shit because “he was bored”. Fuck, you even came close to orgasming in front of him. Because of him. You winced at the thought. What a genius idea, 15-minutes-ago you. Way to go.

About to detangle from his hold to apologise for the impromptu makeout session —a damn good one, true, but probably scarring for life— he beat you to it. Hands still around you, he arched an eyebrow over your shoulder.

“Hey, man. Want something?” he rasped out.

“The lady and I need to talk.”

Great . Just fucking peachy. You took a steady breath before turning around, putting a bit of space between you and your friend. The first thing you noticed was Seokjin’s piercing gaze, squinting slightly from how intently he looked at you.

“Do we now?” you questioned acidly, wearing your best unfazed visage.

Seokjin looked damn fine tonight. Hands casually in his pockets and the gleam of his silver watch just showing. In that position his shoulders squared further. The urge to bite along the curves leading up to his neck rose out of nowhere. You really needed a cold shower.

He smirked at your response, as if he knew your deepest, dirtiest secrets.

“Yes, we do,” a command more than anything else. Still, you recognised the glint of playfulness in the black coffee of his eyes. The one you foolishly claimed for yourself, even though he probably used it on other girls. “Leave the puppy behind and let’s go outside. It’s too loud in here.”

“Who the hell is this jerk again?” Tae enquired dryly, offended by the nickname. He placed a hand on your hip, squeezing slightly to regain your attention.

You jumped slightly at the contact. Seokjin’s eyes snapped up, acknowledging his presence behind you, still too close. The sharp edge of his jaw rolled in annoyance, almost imperceptibly, but he was quick to smooth it with light-hearted indifference.

“The only reason she’s making out with you, kid.”

Amidst the deafening ambiance, you heard a pin drop. There was a beat of silence, tension so high it took you both a moment to register. Then, Taehyung stepped forward, moving you aside. He was not a fighter, despite what one may think with that foul mouth and attitude of his, but he had no problem in punching a douchebag.

“The fuck did you say?”

“Tae,” you stopped, catching his arm. Seokjin remained unaffected, holding the younger’s glare with neutral expression. “Please, don’t. Just go, I’ll deal with the asshole.”

Brows still furrowed, he studied you for a moment with scepticism. “You sure?”

“Yeah, look I—” You pulled him closer, so you could talk to him more privately. No need for Seokjin to hear anything that could be used against you later. “I’m sorry. About all of this, I mean. I shouldn’t have kissed you tonight when there’s other, um, stuff on my mind. I needed something to help me unwind and you were here so... ”

“Five more minutes and you might’ve ‘unwound’ all the way.”

Your face burned immediately, aware of his lingering taste and the stickiness between your thighs. Pure joy bloomed on his lips at your reaction.

“Back to the whole friend thing?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “but you owe me a beer for the semi.”

With that, he nodded at Seokjin in some sort of solemn bro code and the older reciprocated. Men’s short grudge-holding span was always fascinating to witness. He waved both of you goodbye, as if the awkward situation had never happened. Trust Taehyung not to really give a fuck. He was the best at it.

You eyed Seokjin up and down and snaked through the crowd towards the back exit without a word. He followed closely the trail you opened, people too distracted to care if their drinks spilled when you shoulder them. Not sure if you felt angry, relieved, mortified, confused, scared shitless or all of the above, you avoided looking back to check if Seokjin was still there. How did a fun night out with your friends end up like this? You were at home and ready to order a nutritionist’s worst nightmare. You coming to Dio, right? The boys perform tonight. Pretty pleeeease?🥺 That cursed text was to blame. Whoever invented best friends should be sued.

The difference in temperature made you shiver when you stepped out of the pub. A single bulb illuminated the alley, rain puddles and broken glass reflecting its dim light. The night was calm. Not a single siren wailed, like they usually did. Only the constant boom of the bass drum could be heard now, noise muffled underwater, as the door closed behind Seokjin. Your own pulse followed the rhythm, feeling the vibrations deep in your chest.

“Why are you here?” you finally asked. “Just to ruin my night or did you make a sport of being a jerk?”

“Doing you a favour. It didn’t look like you were having a good time,” he answered, amused. You could almost see the ‘I know when you are’ itching to follow.

“That’s not for you to decide. Go home.”

“Not without you.”

His wolfish smirk stretched as he threw a wink. A bit late to try to lift the mood, in your opinion. He seemed to forget that the world didn’t revolve around his stupid, handsome face. It happened at the nyotaimori event, and it happened tonight. Even if you would’ve ended up alone anyway, he had no right to come all the way to Dionysus to mess with your head and ruin your plans —said plans being to drink the embarrassment of almost fucking Taehyung away. Still, he shouldn’t have interfered. You shouldn’t have tried to relax your emotional cramp with Tae either, but it was his mistakes you wanted to focus on, not yours.

“I missed that frown of yours, sushi girl.”

Unaware that you’d been scowling, your arms crossed in self-defense.

“Listen, you can’t just barge in on my life every time you’re bored,” you chided. “Get a hobby, plant a tree or whatever. Didn’t you like fishing? Go do that. Just don’t bother me.”

His features softened slightly. “You remember.”

How could you forget the half an hour rant at the burger joint? Truth be told, you did disconnect half-way, but you recall his somewhat boyish excitement as he gave you a whole monograph on baits. Also the fish puns, those you recall with painful accuracy.

“Just because you are full of yourself enough to have your ears clogged doesn't mean that mine are.”

He shook his head and laughed at your comment. When he stood in front of you to brush a stray strand out of your face, you froze for a second. The tenderness of the gesture was suffocating, his gaze on yours too. No matter how hard you tried to keep distance, Seokjin always found a way to close it. You wanted to run.

His eyes fell on your lips for a moment, intense and wanting. Suddenly that sliver of fondness evaporated from them as something else caught his attention. A hand slid down to your neck and his thumb wiped there repeatedly as if he wanted to clean the spot. Once again, his jaw tensed and his stare grew jet black. Swallowing hard, you felt your cheeks reddening both at his touch and the admonishing tut he gave. He was glaring at what you assumed was a hickey left there by Taehyung. Irrefutable proof of your useless attempt to escape the itch that was Seokjin. Because he was exactly that —a maddening, unreachable itch that one cannot assuage.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel to toy with that Kurt Cobain wannabe?” The tone remained teasing, but his hard, steel stare gave away his mood. He’d never felt jealousy before, and it tasted dry and sour. “He might get the idea that you’re interested.”

You held his gaze, puffing with cockiness to disguise any sign of guilt. “I wouldn’t worry about him, he gets what casual means. Ask him for pointers on that.”

“You think I don’t?” he chuckled airly, brow raising. “I’ve had plenty of that, believe me. But this? Us ? Nothing casual about it, sweet cheeks. I told you already: I like you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Perfect teeth on display, he smiled at you. Selfish bastard, airing those words so carelessly. He gave the impression of a teacher explaining the slowest student how to do simple math, not a man admitting his feelings. Yet, the confession sounded brutally sweet in the quiet back alley. Perhaps the beer still buzzing was to blame or the opiate smell of his cologne coating your senses, but you wondered if it would be that bad to believe him. Then reality poured on you like tar. Even if he did feel like he said, it wasn’t worth the risk. He’d grow tired eventually and leave, like everyone else. He’d ask why couldn’t you be sweet and shy like his exes. He’d tell you that he would never introduce someone like you to his parents. He’d text saying that he would come home late after work, night after night. He’d call you a slut because ‘don’t lie to me, I saw you flirting’ with someone’s panties in his back pocket still. Every time you were naive enough to catch feelings, you’d paid for your stupidity tenfold and ended up hurt and broken. You wouldn’t go through it all again.

“There’s no us ,” you reminded both him and you.

“We should change that, then,” he offered with a shrug. “I want us.”

The fucker knew how to play the strings of your heart, a master puppeteer with the cruelest intentions. Every word was a shiver of excitement that pooled in your uneasy stomach. It felt a lot like love and it was terrifying. Love always faded into ugly crying, ice-cream and vodka. Cornered against your own crumbling walls, you transformed your mixed feelings into bitterness.

“I don’t know what kind of spoiled-prince fantasy you live in, but in the real world people don’t always get what they want. Shocking, I know. Get a whisky to swallow that crazy fact and leave me alone.”

You shoved him away and walked back towards the door, desperate for Seokjin-less air. The pressure in your lungs was suffocating.

“Don’t run away, let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing left to say, rich boy. I told you I don’t play couples anymore.” Seokjin snorted, surely about to make a quick retort, but you cut him. “Find someone else for your little rom-com attempt. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going back in to find a man who can fuck me and not catch feelings after the first kiss like a Disney princess.”

“I’m not sure if your goal is to hurt me or make me lose interest, sweet cheeks, but it’s not working,” he stated, low grit in his tone. “Push me away all you want, I’m not letting my perfect woman slip through my fingers. Not when I know you feel the same way I do.”

You should’ve left and forgotten about him, but you took the bait.

“Oh, please, enlighten me. How’s that exactly?”

“Restless. Every fucking second of the day. Wondering if I’d laugh at the joke I just told or if I’d enjoy the new restaurant you’re at. Tired and grumpy, because you want me lying next to you so bad that you can’t sleep at night. Frustrated, because the moment we kissed, I ruined everyone else for you.”

You snorted, amused both at the accuracy of his words and how much they irritated you. Hopefully he’d assume you were mocking him. It had to be some sort of superpower, there was no other way he could read you so effortlessly. With every layer of sarcasm he peeled you felt more naked, more vulnerable to his sharp sweet nothings. Falling for him felt inevitable and you were afraid of crash-landing.

“Maybe you didn’t see me making out with a guy literally 5 minutes ago.”

“Oh, I did, sweet cheeks,” he said slowly, taking a step towards you. His lips curled upwards and you swallowed hard at the sight. He was hypnotic, expensive clothes fitting like a second skin. What an awful moment for your legs to become butter. “I saw his sloppy tongue on your mouth and you not smiling at him like you do with me. I saw how you kissed him just to take me out of your head.”

Your retreat ended quickly when your back bumped into the door you had been so determined to walk through. Emergency exit now blocked, the only strategy left was to hold your ground. And you would’ve, but the beating of your heart drowned any coherent thought. He stopped when the tips of his shoes kissed yours. Lifting your chin up, you tried to swallow the sand in your throat to no avail. Seokjin propped his hands on each side of your head, the slow tempo of his movements almost theatrical. Spikes of anticipation raised all over your skin. As he caged you, his eyes leveled with yours. You saw a glimmer of triumph in them, lips stretched in a self-satisfied grin. Maybe you could bite it off, kiss him hard enough to erase it.

“Careful, your ego is showing.”

“Your bluff too,” he countered.

The poorly lit alley stayed silent for hours in the little bubble your words created. Stray raindrops that slid from the rooftops hit the ground uncomfortably loud. Perhaps it was just your percepcion. Seokjin held your glare with blazing determination. It was useless, you couldn’t convince him to leave. Around him you felt made out of glass, he saw through every lie and every rejection. You were love-sick and you both knew. There was no miracle remedy, no snake oil to cure this heart infection —it spread too deep already. The further away you tried to stay out of love, the deeper you got in it. The poetic irony might just as well slap an ‘I was here’ sticker on your forehead.

With a heavy sigh you accepted defeat.

“What do you want from me, Jin?”

Your whisper came out as a plea. Arms went limp on your sides, exhausted. ‘ Please, be gentle ,’ you wanted to say. Even if the words never came out, Seokjin understood. Your features stiffened as you braced yourself for the blow, ready to take the hit. You looked too fragile, too beaten. He hated it. Seokjin felt the need to hold you and make all the promises he intended to keep. He’d be there to lull you to sleep if you cried, to share your smiles, to lift you when you fell, to say ‘sorry’ every time he’d fuck up and ‘it’s ok’ when you did. A four-letter word burned his throat like alcohol, but he wouldn’t voice it —he didn’t want to scare you away.

“Right now? I want to kiss you. I want to take you home and take my time eating you out to get whatever doubt you might have about me, about us, out of your system. I want to make you come while you scream my name and forget that stupid idiot and any other idiot before him. I want to fuck you slow to make you understand how much you want me and then hard to show you how much I need you.” He inched even closer, trapping your eyes with his so you could read his heart in them. “I want to find you beside me in the morning and make a routine out of it. I want you to laugh at my naked butt in an apron while I make breakfast and fuck you again and again in the kitchen until you to beg me to never let go.”

He paused, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. His eyes fleeted down as his lips ghosted yours, tickling the skin with his breath, and then back up for his next words.

“I want everything with you.”

You were desperate to close the distance in a kiss, drown in his words. Techno beat pounded in your chest so loud that you thought something might explode. Everything . You wanted that too.

“Jin, I…” as you talked, your lips graced his. He looked at you intently, pupils completely blown and a choked gasp escaped him at the brief contact. The hand on your face tensed, showing you his neediness. It only spurred yours. “I’ve tried this before and it never turns out well.”

“Not with me, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m scared. What if—?”

“Don’t be,” he cut with a smile and a wink. “You’re stuck with me. I promise.”

Tired of fighting a lost battle, you gave in. Your body moved on its own and you closed the barely-existing space between you, sealing your mouth and his with a kiss. There was urgency in his response, as his tongue immediately asked for permission. He kissed you with a starved need that you were quickly to match. His kisses were ardent, numbing you from anything outside Seokjin. Every doubt and heartbreak died where he started. Eager to taste you, he bit your lips until they puffed. Although neither of you couldn’t get enough of it, there was something gentle in your passion. His arms encased you and brought you close enough to fuse with him. Muscle memory laced your fingers to his dark hair, disheveling its perfect shape into whatever you wanted, and your hips grounded his. You molded together in a frenzy of desire. It was satisfying to see every limb and kiss back in place, exactly where they were meant to be. Like one of those compilation videos, it was addicting. The only thing missing was his bare skin on yours to make the moment perfect.

As you got lost in him, his words filled your head, triggering a moan that Seokjin drank with devotion. Perhaps it was foolish, but you let yourself believe him. No flowers, no romantic music in the background, just sincerity in his eyes as he said them. He didn’t paint a movie-like romance where every day would be perfect. He didn’t swear a life of never-ending happiness or vowed to never hurt you. No, he made one promise: that he’d be there. The effortless conviction in that one promise told you that he’d stay and try, that he’d fight for you. He was stubborn and persistent enough for you to trust him. Besides, he always kept his promises before.

Now that you allowed what you felt for him to flow freely, you couldn’t cointan it. He flipped your world upside down. You wanted to tell him what an irritating, fun, conceited, irresistible prick he was, that sometimes you would choke him and others you would kiss him until your lips drew blood, that with him you felt the barest you’ve ever been, but also the safest. Words weren’t enough to express all that, so you kissed him fervently and urged him closer, your heartbeat reverberating in his chest, to show him instead. He grunted, immersed in you and those words you didn’t speak. No need for it, he heard them in the way you moaned and pressed against his hardened cock, seeking desperately some kind of friction. Your hands roamed his shoulders, crinkling the material of his shirt. He felt so yearned for that he forgot to breathe. When his lungs couldn’t take it anymore, Seokjin broke the kiss, missing it the moment cold air hit his wet lips. You whined at the loss, but allowed yourself a moment to recover. Panting heavily, you both stared at each other. At that moment, he looked perfect. Dishevelled and void of that cold mask he wore most of the time, it was the final shot you could take —you were recklessly and catastrophically in love, with no hope of recovery. All that fight you put up, just to lose anyway. What a poor soldier you’d make. With a breathy laugh you rested your forehead on his chin, which brought a bright smile. Still trying to get some air, he kissed your hairline tenderly as he brushed back flyaway strands. Your fingers mimicked the intimate gesture, drawing circles on the nape of his long neck.

“By the way, I don’t beg,” you quipped suddenly, lifting your head so he could see the arch on your brow and a half bitten smirk. The moment was getting too soppy already.

“You look like you enjoy new experiences.”

A wink and a kiss and then you were in his arms again, hidden in your newfound shelter as it started to drizzle in the back alley of Dionysus.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: @aretha170

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loveiimpaired · 4 years

Text

Price You Pay || Michael Langdon One Shot

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Reader

Word Count: 3,627

Warnings: Rape/Non Con, Smut, Breeding, Kidnap, Drugged

Summary: You were just a lowly assistant working for a large and successful company. You were nothing special and that had been fine with you. Your boss wasn't half bad and allowed you to have a bit of a social life. Never did you imagine that said boss would literally have you snatched and offer you to a beautiful devil with blonde hair and blue eyes.

This has been cross posted on my Ao3! My username on there is: thexsharpestlives! So I have not stolen this work!

Your head was feeling fuzzy.

Your mouth was incredibly dry.

Every single limb in your body was becoming stiff.

One moment you had been walking through the parking lot at the office. The next thing you knew hands had grabbed at you. Pain had blossomed from the very back of your head. After that everything had gone dark and you didn’t know for how long. By the time you came to you realized you were in such trouble. Your arms were stretched above your head and restrained with something. There was a blindfold across your eyes which prevented you from seeing anything. The most concerning thing to you was the fact that you could feel cool air brushing against bare skin.

It caused your nipples to become erect. There were some voices in the distance which caused your head to turn. Your back was pressing against something cold, almost like metal. Goosebumps had formed on every single part of you. It took you a moment to realize that tears had formed in your eyes. You had seen enough true crime documentaries to know what was going to happen to you. That you were likely going to end up mutilated and dead in some sort of shipping container. Your family would never know what happened to you.

There were footsteps which caused your entire body to tense.

“What is this?”

Was the question about you?

There were at least two sets of eyes on you from what you could tell.

“She is an offering for you.”

The second voice was a familiar one. It was one that you heard on a daily basis. It belonged to your boss who you thought was a somewhat decent guy. Of course he was a titan in the business world and you were just his assistant. You were the one who got his coffee for him in the morning. The one who made sure he didn’t miss any meetings. Plus you had even taken him back to his home when he had one too many drinks with his friends. You had even covered for him when his wife called to find out why he wasn’t home yet.

“And what makes you think I want her?”

“Is she not pleasing?”

You were being talked about like you were a piece of meat. That was something you had dealt with most of your life. You were feeling utterly exposed. There was a feather like touch sliding along the expanse of your cheek. It traveled down along your collarbone. You tried to pull back but due to the wall behind you there was nowhere to go. The touch continued to slide down towards your heaving breasts.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest.

There was an amused chuckle that seemed to echo inside your head. The hand that had continued to venture was pinching one of your nipples. A gasp escaped from your somewhat chapped lips. That only seemed to encourage whoever it was that was playing with your body. Their other hand was reaching for your previously untouched breast. You groaned as you felt both of your nipples being pulled, pinched and twisted.

“I’ll keep her.”

The hands suddenly left your form and you felt like you could breathe again. Were you going to be left alone again? That seemed more favorable compared to being poked and prodded like cattle. Someone was snapping their fingers and you felt someone leaning in towards you. The restraints were being untied and your arms were being lowered in front of you. Your first instinct was to run but instead you were frozen in place.

Leather encased fingers grasped at your shoulders from behind. How many people were there? You were being shoved not so gently forward. Your bare feet shuffling along as you were being led to god only knew where. There was the sound of a door being opened and you were pushed inside. You stumbled but a hand was grasping at your arm to keep you balanced. You wanted nothing more than to pull the blindfold off.

Though part of you liked that you weren’t seeing wherever it was that you were. Those same firm hands were pushing you down onto what you assumed was a bed. Once more your arms were being stretched out above your head. Something soft was wrapping around your wrists. You couldn’t stop the sobs from bubbling up and out of your throat. Not that it was doing you any good as you were once more tied.

There were footsteps and then a door closing. It seemed that you were once more being left alone. The sheets below you felt soft and perhaps even expensive. Your head tilted to rest against your arm, trying to calm down. Of course you were so unbelievably confused by everything that was happening. You had no idea why your boss had decided to have you snatched out of the parking lot. He was giving you away like you were a piece of property for sale.

The minutes that ticked by felt like hours for you. You had no idea just how much time had passed. You found yourself shifting in hopes of finding a more comfortable position. It seemed near impossible given your small range of motion. You found yourself wondering you had done to deserve to be in such a predicament. After all you had always followed the rules and done what you thought you should.

You heard the creak of a door and the sound of someone tutting.

“What have they brought you Michael?”

The voice was feminine but also very stern from what you could tell.

“She’s a gift, she’s mine.”

“She’s a distraction, she is going to get in the way.”

“Leave us Ms. Mead.”

There was the sound of footsteps that got quieter with every passing second. The door was being shut and you realized that it had to be Michael approaching the bed. Fingers were grasping at the fabric that was swathed around your face. You cried out in surprise as it was torn away from you. You had to blink a few times to adjust to the light after being kept in the darkness for so long.

There was so much black everywhere from what you could see. The walls were black and so was the furniture. The only splash of color was the crimson colored sheets you were on. You almost refused to look towards the man who apparently owned you. At least till his hand shot out to grasp at your chin. Your head was being turned and that was the first time you got a look at Michael. Only two words crossed your mind at the sight of him: devilishly handsome.

He had a mop of strawberry blonde hair that curled around his ears. His eyes were a startling shade of blue that you had never seen before. He had prominent cheek bones that would have made most male models envious. Everything about him screamed beauty but also screamed danger. He was not at all what you were expecting. It would take a lot for a man like your former boss to want to please someone. You were expecting a man that was much older than what Michael looked like.

“They think they can win me over with offering you to me.”

What did that mean?

You had so many questions but you were too scared to actually speak.

“You are exquisite.”

His fingers left your chin only to once more slide along your frame. His hand came to rest against your stomach. You realized very quickly that his fingers were laden with rings. Each of them felt heavy against your skin. You found your gaze traveling down the line of your body to look at his hand. His fingers were long and almost elegant.

“Do you not possess the ability to speak?”

You had been so lost in your head that you hadn’t uttered a single syllable.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand what?”

“How I came to be in this place and what my boss has to do with it.”

Your words seemed to amuse him from the smirk that decorated his angelic face. His fingers were tracing patterns against your skin, around your belly button. He was grinning like the cat that ate the damn canary. All the while he was touching you as if he had every right to.

“Your boss is part of the Cooperative,” he told you patiently like one might speak to a child,” He pledged his soul to my father and in turn pledged himself to me but he did something that displeased me.”

Your confusion only seemed to grow with everything he was telling you.

“And so you are his atonement and his way of getting into my good graces.”

Something told you that whatever your boss had intended wasn’t working on Michael.

His hand was sliding further down towards your waistline. His fingers were slipping between your thighs which caused you to gasp. A look of amusement appeared on his face at your response to his touch. The pad of his thumb was running along your folds. You cried out from both shock and pleasure at the sudden touch.

“He wants to be part of the new world but he just gave up his spot,” he told you as his thumb grazed against that small bundle of nerves,” For you, for my pretty new whore.”

The word almost sounded wrong coming out of his mouth.

You were gasping as you felt his thumb moving in small circles. There you were, tied to a bed and not a stitch of clothing on. While this boy, this fully clothed man played with your body. The look in his eyes was one of pure fascination as his touch become rougher. He seemed to like the sounds that escaped from your throat. You were unable to stop yourself from shifting helplessly, your hips arching up from the bed.

That seemed to please him from the look in his eyes. Your eyes squeezed shut, struggling to understand what was happening. He pulled his hand back which caused a whimper to fall from you. His intense gaze that had been focused on your face was now going down between your legs. He used two fingers to spread you open and another one of his digits pushed inside of you. Your body jolted at the sudden intrusion.

“So tight,” he mumbled as his finger began to pump in and out of you,” So perfect.”

You wanted to tell him to stop, that it was wrong. For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. Instead all that came from you were gasps and moans. Your head pressed back against the pillow that cradled your head. His thumb was suddenly pressing against your clit once again. All you could do was whimper and cry out. His free hand was reaching to loosen the plain black tie around his neck. After that he was reaching to undo the buttons of his shirt. The tension in the room was heavy and you were unsure what to do.

“Mi-Michael!”

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from crying out his name. Your hips were arching from the bed which caused him to chuckle. Beads of sweat were trailing down the back of your neck. Your movement against his hand was becoming greedy, needing more. His unoccupied hand was reaching to yank your legs apart. Your own hands were grasping at the silk ties that kept you in your place.

His hand was leaving you only to come down against your pussy with a loud slap. A yelp fell from you as pain spread throughout your frame. For some reason you found that your hips were arching up still. He was shifting up only to push your legs up, your knees bending. You could only imagine the sight that you made at that moment. You were by no means innocent but your sex life had been rather vanilla. No man had ever done what he was doing with you.

“I never expected you to be so reactive,” he taunted as his frame loomed over yours,” Such a good girl for me.”

Your face was flushing at his words and it was so wrong. It was so wrong for your body to be responding to his. You knew nothing about him besides his name. Plus you knew that he was the head of some sort of private organization. His face was mere inches from your own. All you would have to do was lift your head up for your lips to meet. Instead you found yourself staring towards his mouth.

His finger that had been lodged inside of you was reaching to run along your bottom lip. You could taste yourself on your lip as his finger suddenly slid past your lips. It was joined by another and you nearly gagged. His fingers were pushing your tongue down which caused you to groan. His eyes were focused on his fingers as he spread his fingers. You groaned as his fingers pushed back towards the entrance of your throat.

The noises and the mess didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

You were nearly gagging as he held his fingers there. Your eyes were starting to water and you wanted to push him off. Though you knew that you didn’t possess the strength to do so. After what felt like an eternity his hand was finally pulling back. The second your mouth was unoccupied you were gasping for air.

“This is the start of your new life,” he cooed to you,” You are no longer bound to the rules you once carefully followed, all you have to worry about is me.”

Was that supposed to be comforting?

You realized that he was reaching down to begin to undo his pants. There was the clink of a belt and soon he was allowing them to fall to the ground. That was followed by the boxers that you barely got a glimpse of. He was soon climbing back onto the bed and joining you. His fingers danced along the inside of your thighs.

“What about my family?” you asked,” My apartment, my life, my boyfriend?”

His touch stopped at the mention of you having a boyfriend. It wasn’t exactly serious but you had been dating for about six months. You knew that he was probably the only one who would notice if you were gone. After all you had been low on the totem pole at the company you worked for. Your parents lived far away and you rarely spoke to them anyway.

His hand clapped over your mouth before you could even try to continue.

“You are to forget everything.”

How did he expect you to do that?

His free hand was reaching to grasp his cock at the base. It was as hard as a diamond, precum dripping from the head. You watched in morbid fascination as he moved to run the head along your folds. You let out a strangled gasp and you groaned into his hand. He gave you no wondering as he lodged himself inside of you. He was unbelievably thick and bigger than any other man that you had been involved with.

Your boyfriend certainly didn’t measure up.

“You are going to forget everything.”

He eased his hips back only to shove himself all the way in. His hips were meeting with yours and causing you to moan helplessly.

“As well as forget everyone,” he insisted,” Especially your boyfriend.”

You were unsure what you were doing but you were nodding mindlessly. His hand left your mouth only to grasp at your tied wrists. The expression on his face was one that you were certainly never going to forget. He was smirking down at you as he began to thrust into you. You could barely catch your breath or keep up with everything that he was doing to you. One of his hands was reaching to rub against your clit.

You felt like something inside of you was on the verge of snapping. No one had ever taken such utter control over your form. You were practically putty in his more than capable hands. His free hand was reaching to grasp at your hip. His hold on you was tight enough to bruise. Most of the men in your life treated you like you were some fragile doll. It was becoming clear that he had no problem breaking you down till you were stripped bare.

It was like he was unleashing a side of you that you had never known existed.

His cock was hitting all the right spots. Of course you knew already that you were unbelievably wet. You had lost all sense of right and wrong with every thrust of his hips. Your arms were beginning to ache but you didn’t care. Your hips were bucking up to meet with his which only made him grin. Small grunts and groans were falling from his mouth. It was the only sign that he was enjoying himself.

“Who do you belong to little one?”

The question nearly snapped you out of your reverie.

His movements ceased when you didn’t respond as fast as he might have liked. You had no idea what you were supposed to say. How could you give him the answer he clearly wanted? Of course you realized how stupid it was to be worried about such a small thing. It was clear that your life was forever going to be changed. That you were never going to be the same woman that you had been only a matter of hours before.

His hands were suddenly wrapping around your throat. Your eyes widened at the sudden movement. His fingers began to squeeze, cutting off your air supply. There was a light headed feeling spreading throughout you. You were almost in a daze, staring up at his face. He was still not moving, his cock buried to the hilt. You felt like a rag doll being used for his pleasure. You knew that you needed to say something.

Your life was literally in his hands.

“I belong to you,” you choked out,” I belong to you!”

His hold loosened only slightly but he didn’t release you. His thrusts resumed to your relief which frightened you. You were gasping as you felt your body once more chasing that high. Your legs lifted on their own to wrap around his frame. Your ankles locked together at his mid back which made him pause.

“Eager little girl,” he taunted, his hand sliding up to grasp at your chin,” With such a perfect cunt.”

You didn’t even bother trying to protest. Instead you just found yourself moving your hips in hopes of some sort of friction. Your hips were moving on their own accord. All you could do was chase the orgasm that you knew was coming. After what felt like an eternity he was finally moving.

Only this time his thrusts were harsher than before. His hips slapped against yours as his free hand grasped at your hair. He was forcing your head to tilt forward. You were unable to stop the noises that escaped from you. Your eyes were forced to take in the sight of his cock sinking in and out of you. You could hear the own squelch caused by your wetness. “Watch,” he demanded in a low hiss,” Look at how wet you are for me.”

You couldn’t possibly deny how wet you were for him and due to his actions.

You barely registered the familiar tightness forming in the pit of your belly. All you could do was cry out as spasms started to run through your frame. Your thighs quaked as you writhed beneath him. Tears actually filled your eyes as you began to ride out the waves of pleasure. The entire time you were crying out his name. You were certain that you had made a mess just not of yourself but of him as well.

He let go of your hair just as he lost control himself. You were gasping as you felt his cum spurting inside of you. He was practically coating your walls. He let out a low groan as he kept himself buried inside of you. You were nearly breathless as you looked up at his face. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes. There was a dazed look in your eyes even as he began to move once more. He was pulling himself from you and you winced.

You could feel a mixture of your combined juices beginning to drip out of you.

You barely could keep your eyes open long enough to watch him. He was going to open the drawer to the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He was pulling out what looked like a jewelry case, simple and black. A look of confusion appeared as he climbed onto the bed and scooted towards you. To your surprise he was smiling as he went to open the case. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to see.

To your surprise there was what looked to be a collar. It was a startling shade of red with a silver charm shaped like a heart attached to it. The charm was engraved with his name. You barely blinked as the collar was fastened around your once bare throat. He was sitting back on his knees and staring down at you. You were certain that you looked utterly fucked out, still tied to his bed.

“Welcome to your new life.”

#michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #cody fern #ahs apocalypse

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painted-crow · 4 years

Text

Submission Time #12

Another submission from me! I’d meant to put in answers from the quiz… or really, my perpetual arguments with the quiz. But then I got distracted by writing out my thoughts and forgot to do that.

Oof, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are just from this–you sent it in with anonymous on! Hopefully that’s okay.

I get different answers from the quiz at different times. Last time I took it in earnest, stoned out of my mind, I came up Snake/Snake. This time I intentionally hatstalled to get as many questions as I could.

If this is too many words on top of too many words… I am sorry.

I see that lol! I appreciate that there is no lack of information here 😉

However, this post as it came in was VERY long, even by my standards, and for the sake of readability I've done 2 things:

1) Switched to desktop long enough to put in a cut. It broke the blue color I usually put over my replies in order to make these easier to skim, but I'm not putting it back because it's kind of a huge pain to redo.

2) Trimmed out some of the question/answer pairs. You have plenty, so although I read them all, I just kept those I deemed most relevant. I also skipped a few where my responses would have been repetitive. Just an editing decision I hope you'll be okay with.

That said, let's get on with the Sorting.

Primaries

• If people in your family or community disagree with you, is it hard to act against their wishes?

I’m not sure that I have a community, but yeah, if my SOs think something is a bad idea, I’ll listen and consider. I’m more likely to be the person disagreeing with and trying to convince someone else, though. Also, sometimes it’s plain easier to go along with things to keep life smooth. But if it was something important… I think I’d have to go with what I think is right, regardless of disagreement. I’ll listen to others, maybe I’ll change my mind, but I won’t not do a thing JUST because of the disapproval of my family.

Suggests internal primary, Lion or Snake.

• What’s your top priority?

I kind of hate this one because I want to answer all three. I want to make the world a better place for the sake of me and mine, and that’s one of my goals. Not one I imagine I can accomplish, but it’s something that matters. My kid will probably see a pretty rough world in the future and I wish I could do something to alter that, beyond trying to be an ethical consumer as much as I can.

This answer feels very grounded and practical. I want to say it feels Liony, partly out of process of elimination but mostly because it just does.

• When you’re making a decision and you’re stuck, what should you do?

Idk, panic? No, not really. I seek advice if relevant, don’t if not, seek out any information I can, think about it… make a decision… and proceed to worry about that decision for the next millenia because what if it wasn’t the right one? I usually go with my my gut choice but 1) sometimes I have to go hunting for that, and by sometimes I mean a lot, and 2) I still research the hell out of it.

The way you’ve answered this says more about your secondary than your primary, imo. You might be a Bird secondary.

• Do you listen to your intuition?

I’d like to, but I don’t trust it. I’m too afraid of everything.

Ooh, interesting. It’s worth noting, people who write to me are often Burned at least somewhat, because Burned Houses are always harder to sort; everyone reacts differently to trauma and comes up with different coping mechanisms. Wonder if you’re an at least somewhat Burned Lion who’s pivoted into Snake, perhaps because it fit with your old value set.

• Someone points out a flaw in your logic. Their argument makes sense, but there’s something about it that just bothers you. Do you change your ways because of what they said?

This one always bothers me. It’s not a thing that happens to me often, but I can’t understand not changing your mind in this situation. If someone points out that you’re wrong… well… you’d better go look into that, hadn’t you? Maybe because I’m constantly seeking to understand myself, and I don’t and that frustrates me, but… I don’t know. I agree with and disagree with all the answers.

This seems Bird at first glance, but it seems you’re too conflicted about it to be straight up unburned Bird (and Burned Birds are usually easier to spot because they tend to be wrapped up in the problem/s they’re struggling with). You might have a model or performance, too early to say.

That line about being frustrated that you don’t understand yourself is also a good hint toward an Idealist primary.

• Does disagreeing with your closest friends about something important to you make you love them less?

No, but I might think less of them, and I will probably argue my points at them in the future. Sometimes I change their mind, sometimes they change mine. I turned my SO into a social liberal, he caused me to adjust my stance on gun control. There’s always give and take.

Sounds healthy. That model’s sounding a bit more likely here. I’d be very curious if you turned out to be a burned Lion who actually had a healthy Bird model–that would be rare o.o

• What if everyone you loved left you? They betrayed you, abandoned you, or died, and you’re hurting. What keeps you moving forward?

This question makes me want to tear my hair out, because those are all different things.

If everyone I loved died, I would probably have a massive breakdown, spend a year laying in bed, and then use whatever money I inherited or insurance payouts I got to go try and live the life I’ve always vaguely wanted, traveling. I wouldn’t seek out relationships but I imagine I would, eventually, form new connections. It would hurt, but I would rebuild.

If they abandoned me, or betrayed me, which is… kind of the same, I guess, because abandoning me without cause is a betrayal… well, I would probably be confused, and angry, and curl into a ball and want to die, and then turn into a lifelong curmudgeon the likes of which I swore I’d never be. It would hurt, and I would probably be loathe to trust again.

This doesn’t feel Loyalist, at least.

• What if you realized that absolutely everything you thought was true was wrong? The authorities you’d trusted, the beliefs you’d held, the wrongs you’d fought against?

Another that trips me up. I doubt someone is ever going to convince me that punching down, bullying, or causing unwarranted harm is good. I don’t trust any authority without cause anyway, and I trust no authority to be right on every topic. I trust NASA about space but I’d be more interested in what the forestry service has to say about ecology, in a silly example. I’m not religious so I don’t have any authorities there. My parents were authorities once but it turns out they’re human and sometimes wrong, so…. I feel like I don’t know how to answer this question, because I can’t fathom what someone could tell or convince me of that would be that kind of a gut punch?

So, you don’t really have a system per se, but you do have a set of core ideals. You could call this a Bird model (and… a really healthy one if it is?) or you could call it partially unburned Lion.

• You can’t help everyone in the world who needs it, but you wish you could.

Nah, it would be nice to help everyone and I’m down to eat the rich and redistribute wealth and I firmly believe the point and purpose of society is to care for its populace, so definitely the world should be designed better to make sure everyone has a fair chance at what they want…but it’s not my responsibility to fix it for everybody, nor am I capable of it. I can do a small part, and I try to, but I’m not the savior of humanity.

I think we’ve established you’re not a Badger, although Badgers don’t always fall into this trap.

• You’ve changed your mind about an old belief or moral stricture that you used to value. You got new information and you’ve tried to update your way of thinking, and you think (hope?) you’re a better person for it. Do you feel guilty about the old belief you’ve abandoned?

Do I feel guilty for abandoning it? Not if I realized it was wrong! Do I feel guilty for having had the belief? Sometimes. I was raised in an unthinkingly classist household, and I still feel bad about my instinctive assumptions about people. I’ve worked on it a lot and unpacked a lot of shit, but I was definitely an ass and I regret that.

You have a lot of healthy Bird happening. I’m starting to wonder if your Lion is the model.

If you are a Bird primary, you’re one who builds your system much more than one who adopts it. You also seem very confident in your own perceptions, not unwilling to change but not impressionable.

When it comes to less major parts of your ideals, such as the gun control thing you adjusted your stance on, do you feel satisfied after puzzling things like that out? Or do you kind of hate that you need to?

• The next one is “If I’ve decided to stand by the people I love, it’s a choice. I could make a different decision.” Vs “At the end of the day, some things are right and some things are wrong. You don’t turn your back on the people you love.”

And my problem with that is… both. It is a choice, I could, theoretically, make a different one. But I don’t think it would be right to do so. I think that I would have to have an overwhelming reason to turn my back on my people. Someone cheating one me, or coming to hold beliefs antithetical to me (like if one of my SOs suddenly went TERFy or something), yeah, I would probably turn away, but it would hurt. But it’s still a choice I’ve made, either way.

I don’t think you’re a Snake.

• When you sit down and consider the terrifying lack of objective truth in our reality, how do you feel?

But what is truth? Does this mean truths about the universe, reality, physics, etc? I surely believe there is objective truth and structure there, though I doubt if humanity can discover it all. We are clever little apes, but its a big, weird universe.

Does it mean moral, philosophical truths? Moral relativism all the way babe! I mean, I’m an atheist, and I dont believe there’s one objective truth out there laid down by something supernatural, and I think it has to be something everybody comes to on their own as an accumulation of life experiences. I’ve got a few core things I think are important and the rest just… flows. I went with “the model in our heads is good enough,” because we’ve all got to settle for that in the end, I suppose.

It’s an interesting question and none of the answers quite fit for me. I think part of my trouble with the quiz is how abstract the questions are. “Do you like shortcuts?” Well, I dont know, quiz, what on earth is the CONTEXT? I understand why it’s written that way, but I do wish it was a bit more choose-your-own-adventure, handing me scenarios instead of philosophical abstraction.

You could be a Bird primary.

• When you’re not sure what’s the right thing to do, what do you turn to?

Research, and talking to my people, and then I think about it a bit. Or I just go with my gut and try to figure it out later. Either way I will spend a lot of time thinking about it, either trying to choose or trying to parse the choice I made.

Yeah, you might have to puzzle out which of these is the model yourself. This is a pretty subtle distinction. @wisteria-lodge and I both have posts about this. The appropriate tags on my blog are #ravenclaw primary and #gryffindor primary –if you can get Tumblr to function as intended (mobile search is very very flaky), those should get you the info you want, along with lots of accounts from other people Sorting themselves.

I’m starting to lean towards Bird for you, actually. But again, this is one pair that can be hard to tell apart, and sometimes it gets harder the closer you look at it. Maddening.

• Would you feel worse abandoning a stranger in need or turning your back on your closest friend?

Another one where I want context. If we’re talking identical scenarios – say, they’re drowning – I’d save my friend over someone else, except for maybe a small child… maybe? Honestly I’d probably try to save both and end up dying. But I do prioritize and I’d help my friend over a stranger, sans specific extenuating circumstances on the part of said stranger.

Once again, I don’t think you’re a Snake. I think you’re a Lion with loyalty baked into your intuition, or a Bird who’s picked up some Snakey philosophy.

• After spending some time trying to decide between two options, you are convinced that A is the right thing to do. The people around you, though, are just as convinced that it’s B. How do you feel?

Like I haven’t explained well enough, because they’re not getting why my opinion is the best one. Seriously though, it would make me wonder if I missed something, and I’d probably spend more time talking and researching to compensate. On the other hand… context… am I choosing colleges here (yes, folks, give me your input!) or whether or not to get an abortion (where I would value the input of those directly connected to me, but in the end it’s 100% my choice and those who disagree can eff off.)

When you’re choosing a college, you’re making a tactical decision, not a moral one. Gathering information from others is a Bird secondary thing: you’re doing research.

When you’re making a moral decision, that’s where your primary is involved, and here your answer is strongly Lion.

[I’m skipping a few of the next questions because they don’t give strong information for you specifically. Mostly what they get at is, you’re not a Badger, especially not an unhealthy Badger.]

• Does your internal moral compass know something you don’t?

Well… maybe? I feed a lot of stuff into my brain, and I don’t always know what I think until the words have fallen out of my mouth.

I gotta say, I’m a Bird primary and this sounds terrifying to me. Sometimes I need to write about something before my opinion fully forms, but I write and think so much because I don’t trust myself to talk about it until I’ve poked the issue a bunch on my own.

The only exception is that there are a few people who will take me at my word if I say I haven’t made up my mind about an issue yet, and will listen to me debate it with myself, without judging me for not immediately agreeing with the stance they’ve already taken.

Not everyone is the same, of course, but this answer is a very Lion one.

• If you get a chance to make the world a better place, you have to pursue it– even at the expense of your happiness and personal relationships. Do you think this is a true statement?

If I could throw myself into a volcano to fix everything that is wrong with the world, I would cry and hug everybody I love and regret the hell out of what I was about to do to them and then chuck myself in the damn volcano. I think not doing so would be more selfish.

That is... a totally different thing than this question asked! 😂

However, you've established in previous questions (some of which were cut for length) that you don't feel responsible for fixing/changing the world as a moral imperative, so your answer to this is actually more interesting, lol.

I don't know what it actually says about your Sorting, but I'm leaving it in because it made me laugh.

• Do you think you’re a good person?

Another easy one. Define good! I try to be, within my own belief systems. But I know a lot of people who would not think I’m a good person, because in their belief systems I’m not. I think some of those people are good people, I think some are bad people. Life is complex. I do my best.

This is a pretty Birdy answer. You keep going back and forth! :p I'm probably going to end up leaving you with an ambiguous answer, huh?

If you're a burned Lion, you sound awfully chill about it and you use your ridiculously strong Bird model in an unusually healthy way, for a Lion. Lots of Lions with Bird models really struggle to reconcile the different priorities.

If you're a Bird, you have a ridiculously strong Lion model that seems to actually override your Bird sometimes--but Bird systems are complex and can include weird recursive rules like "in this situation, this other Primary is more right so we use that." Also, your understanding of your system seems more hands-off than a lot of Birds.

• It’s important to do the right thing, even when it feels wrong.

…yeeeeeees…. but. Why does it feel wrong? I would want to investigate that before doing the thing, because if it feels wrong, maybe I’m missing something that my subconscious caught. If I investigate that and am sure about the right, I think… I don’t know. I’m not sure I could do something I felt super icky about even if it was quote-unquote right?

Oh hey, that's my approach to Lion primary too. One point for Bird + loud Lion model?

By now I bet you either have a strong feeling about which of the options I've narrowed down is you, or you'll think about it and go back and pore over the archives here and on the other Sorting blogs. And then you'll think about which approach you took and what kind of a hint that is, which is basically meta-meta-analysis. Except now I've written this and you've read it, so you'll be wondering how reading this will affect your judgment, so it's meta-meta-meta-analysis now.

...I'll stop. 😉

Secondaries

Future Paint here. Tumblr discarded the ENTIRE second half of my response to this post, because I saved it and then hit post without refreshing the page, so it posted the old version, because of course it did.

The tl;dr is that I believe anon to be a rapid-fire Bird secondary with a Lion model.

Brb while I reconstruct this post.

• Do you like going into situations with a plan?

• When you spot a metaphorical obstacle in your path, what do you do?

I would love to, and some situations I do– job interviews, for example – but sticking to a plan is not my strong suit. I can follow a schedule, to some degree, and I can kind of make plans… but then I trip up because how can I account for all contingencies? So I usually end up chucking the plan and YOLOing my way through something on a wave of accumulated knowledge and practice experience.

Not all Birds are big planners. The defining thing is preparation, and that can mean hoarding skills, knowledge, tools and contacts, not just making plans and decisions in advance. A Bird might, for example, decide not to schedule their vacation, and instead read a couple travel guides before they go but wing it when they're there.

This question is one of those where I’d love a less abstract scenario. Because… it depends. In a video game I’ll usually go around. In real life I’ll stop and panic for a minute or a day, then get up and deal with whatever needs dealing with. Unless its a super immediate issue, and then I’m in the middle of it already and have to put off my existential crisis until later (see prior example of “breaking up a dogfight by sticking my arm betwixt them,” see also “i spent much of my teens rolling out of bed at 3am and getting dressed to go help with a foal delivery and I didn’t really start thinking until like twenty minutes after we arrive and start dealing with shit.” Like, I was making decisions and thinking about things, but… its different. They’re not reasoned choices, they’re “this has to be dealt with NOW so do what you can and sort it out later.”)

• Do you like to gather all possible information before making a decision?

I guess I land on needing to understand your problems. You can’t put them off forever, but if you’ve got the time to do some research and contemplation aforehand, that seems like the better choice.

I need you all to know that I didn't cut this dogfight story--I'm not depriving you of whatever wild ride anon had, it's just as much of a Noodle Incident to me as it is to you. However. I don't think I need to argue *too* much that anon has a Lion model.

• Is knowing things or knowing people more useful when solving problems?

Another tricky one, because I think all the answers are correct. I do like to know what’s going on, but at a certain point that IS just stalling. But! It’s true that making decisions without understanding the full picture CAN really mess you up! But it’s ALSO true that, in many situations, I can change my mind if I learn more. I think I lean towards doing All the Research before making a choice, but I’m pretty sure that’s largely a procrastination tactic.

Birrrrd.

Both. Ideally, one would know a range of People who know/have many Things. I’m a big fan of bartering my own skills and knowledge in return for those of other people – for example I am the go-to research person, because I’m pretty good at sourcing info and condensing it into “here’s what you ought to know, here are your options, and here’s where you can go for more information,” a thing which I do freely for my family. In return they do things I can’t or don’t want to, like my taxes or getting things off high shelves or making travel plans or whatnot.

• When your plan fails, what do you do?

I’m better at accumulating knowledge than connections, but I think the right connections are more often useful than said knowledge.

As @wisteria-lodge has said before, some Birds accumulate contacts the same way they gather other tools. They like the be the person to say, "I know a guy."

You're VERY clearly not a Badger. I've cut all the questions that were like "do you do [Badger Thing]" and you were like "NO" so. I don't think you'll need convincing on this point lol

See above… panic then act, unless I don’t have time, in which case act and then panic. Solve the immediate problems, clear some space to breathe, then deal with the rest.

• Do you collect things? Facts, objects, hobbies?

……. do links full of interesting things I fully intend to get around to reading and understanding someday count?

…yeah, this is where I take a look around at my books, games, Interesting Facts, various half-compentent hobby activities, and enduring rage that I cannot possibly know All The Things because I am a mortal subject to the finite bounds of my life and acknowledge that yes. I hoard the SHIT out of both physical and intellectual stuff.

• Do you ever study or plan excessively for things that aren’t useful? Just for fun?

I’m torn between yes, and yes but they have a purpose. I do enjoy learning, i was always good in school, when I could be bothered to care. There are a few topics I enjoy for their own sake – language and history and anything world-building, really, anything to do with who we are and how we got there. But I won’t usually go in depth; most things I skim enough to understand the basic concept and move on, leaving those things as cocktail facts. “Oh, you’re an astronomer focusing on the moons of Jupiter? I read $JupiterFact a while back, what are your thoughts?”

• Do you act differently in different groups? Does it bother you, if you do?

Like, I dont care about the moons of Jupiter unless Titan or Europa or whichever turns out to have life, but space is neat and I’d be excited by that conversation and I’m intrigued by the concepts even if i don’t have the inclination to deep-dive the topic.

These 3 question/answer pairs explain pretty clearly why I think anon is a Bird secondary...

Not very often, and not much. I absolutely utilize code-switching, but I’ve felt bad about not opening my mouth at times when I worked at a place that assumed I was a good little Christian white girl… I’m usually too afraid of repercussions to say anything, but I remember my supervisor saying an atheist billboard was “too much” and I just said “no, of course it isnt” and we gave each other a look like “… well this isn’t good…”

• When solving problems, is your first reaction seeing what “tools” you have in your pockets?

In general though, I’ll use a mask when I need to but I’m just kinda… me.

...and this was what cleared up the Lion secondary model for me.

• When you are deciding how to react to a situation, are your choices most affected by internal (how you feel, what you think, what you want) or external inputs (what’s happening around you)?

…I’m really not sure. I don’t think i actively assess the tools, physical or mental, that I have to hand? I generally know if I DON’T have the resources to deal with something, but if i do have them, I just do the thing and don’t think about it.

That's normal. You just know your toolset well enough that you don't have to think about it. Some Birds don't, or their toolset is eclectic enough (or even granular enough; try remembering all the books you've read that are relevant to a given research paper topic) that they forget what they have.

I think if I knew what I felt, I’d be happy deciding based on internal things, but I don’t know that I trust myself enough.

This answer seems more relevant to your primary. Might be Burned Lion primary peeking through.

And that puts me at a hatstall again.

Sorry for the bombardment, but it seemed like this would be relevant. I know I prefer more info to less, when I’m trying to help someone figure things out, so… words. Many, many words. Thrown at you. Mea culpa.

Hope you don't mind my cherrypicking! This must have been a ton of work for you to write, and I threw a bunch of it away 😭

(Only sort of, I did read it all first.)

In conclusion

Primary: either burned Lion + healthy Bird model, or Bird + loud loud Lion model.

Secondary: rapid-fire Bird with Lion model.

Hope that helps!

#sortinghatchats #paint speaks #submission #gryffindor primary #ravenclaw primary #gryffindor primary model #ravenclaw primary model #burned gryffindor primary #ravenclaw secondary #gryffindor secondary model

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hopscotchandlemon · 4 years

Text

Show Your Love

Also on Ao3

It was the hardest decision you’d ever made but as you closed the door on your motel room, you felt it had been the right one. That didn’t stop you feeling guilty. By now, Jethro would have read the ‘Dear John’ letter you’d left on his mantle piece. You wondered if he’d actually miss you, he’d barely seen you in the last month.

Dropping your case, you eased off your shoes and lay down on the starched bedding. Travelling had not been kind to your muscles and you tried to get them to relax. You’d been so wound up about how your relationship had ended, you doubted your body could remember what it was like not to be in a tense state. As various aches and pains wracked your spine, you sat up, reaching for your bag for your bottle of water and your painkillers. You took out the new phone you had purchased, your old one having been taken apart of dropped in a bin not far from Jethro’ home. You’d been careful when selecting somewhere to run to and made it as difficult as possible for the Special Agent to find you knowing he’d find you out of stubbornness rather than a desire to put right what had gone so terribly wrong. You didn’t even know where the problem lay. All you knew if that the man you’d thought you loved had become someone who at home swayed between anger and apathy. Sure, you knew he could be difficult, umcommunicative and you’d be the mistress to the much more demanding wife that was his job, but you also knew he could be considerate, warm and even gentle.

It was the fall when things had changed. You’d been living together for a year having met the previous fall when a case bought Special Agent Gibbs and Special Agent McGee to your workplace, George Washington University, where you were a professor in mechanical engineering. You’d been able to advise the agents on the type of technology that they’d recovered from the home of a known domestic terrorist. A week after they’d closed the case, Gibbs had returned to offer his thanks and to ask you out to dinner.

That last fall, you’d been finishing up after a day’s work when McGee had turned up at your office to tell you Jethro had been seriously injured in a high speed crash and to take you straight to the hospital. Indeed the doctors told you to expect the worst and you spent the next few days in limbo, surrounded by his team as you all hoped for a miracle. A week later that miracle happened, and he was taken off the ventilator. You’d joked that it was much less the sign of a miracle and more a indication of how stubborn the man was, refusing to conform to what everyone else had thought was his demise.

You got him home and while you never expected him to be a model patient, his mood swings and his detached persona made him near impossible to deal with. In time his body healed but his demeanour did not. You couldn’t quite believe it when he passed a psych evaluation to go back to work but he’d had years of practise at convincing everyone he was just fine. He deceived himself that he was fine to the point he was convincing. He seemed a different person at work while at home, the layers of untreated trauma made any kind of relationship near to impossible. Eventually he started to avoid you. At first you worried about him but then you didn’t have the anxiety of wondering what mood he was in. If he ever was in the house at the same time as you, he’d spend most of it in his basement.

That’s when you knew it was time to leave. You had to get away for a bit so you waited until spring break and booked this motel in New York state for a week. You used cash to get the train tickets and rented an apartment in DC so you had somewhere to go once your week was up. If Gibbs wanted to find you after that you’d talk, but you needed the break and for him to have some time to reflect on what he wanted.

The week passed quietly. You’d enjoyed the space and had explored the state as much as you could. The journey back was arduous but once you were home, you were able to get yourself in to a new routine. As you finally got yourself back on the grid, you knew sooner or later Jethro would find you and that happened the Friday after you started back at work.

***********************

Everyone at NCIS was on the receiving end of Gibbs’ wrath. It was Spring Break so there was talk of holidays and plans among those lucky enough to snare the time off while those with kids discussed what the had planned. He turned up on the Monday morning and barked orders at everyone. There was no case to keep them all busy so they took it in turns to escape to Abby’s lab to discuss what had turned their team leader in to a bear with a sore head. McGee had some insight although he knew better to share it. Gibbs had asked him to ping (y/n)’s phone. Believing they had misplaced it, he told his boss that it’s last location was in fact his own house but the battery might have died as it hadn’t moved since Friday. This had not helped his mood and he’s asked McGee send him their credit card statements and if they’d booked any flights. When McGee came back with nothing of note, Gibbs mood darkened even more. The team were relieved when a case came up on Tuesday. It was bad news for the petty officer but a relief to the NCIS agents.

The following Monday, Gibbs mood was still and no one in the bullpen dare speak. McGee did another search for (y/n) and to his relief they started to turn up in searches. A new tenancy agreement, a new phone. He wanted to tell Gibbs but he didn’t want his boss to think he was prying. So when Gibbs was called to Vance’s office just as they were about to go home, he printed of details of the tenancy agreement and left them in an envelope on Gibbs’ desk before leaving the building.

***********************************

Gibbs knew he had behaved badly but it was his way of coping with the aftermath of that car crash. He’d been so disorientated when he first came round. He saw Shannon and Kelly a great deal and that gave him some peace but when they disappeared to be replaced by tubes entering his body and machines bleeping , he felt he’d descended to hell and seeing his wife and child had been a cruel trick. The Friday he’d realised (Y/N) had gone, he’d decided to blot it all out with Bourbon. He did this all weekend putting him on a crash course with the week ahead. By Monday he wanted to find them and put things right. Obviously, they’d paid attention when he’d talked about tracking people and initial searches proved fruitless. Once a case came up, he threw himself in to solving that in a bid to think about something else. When Tim had left the copy of (y/N)’s new tenancy agreement on his desk, he saw it as a sign that maybe it was time to approach them.

**************************************

You’d got home just after 6pm and started to prepare something to eat. You always made far too much but you figured it would do you later in the week. Just as you were about to plate up your door intercom sounded. You knew it was Jethro before you even got to the speaker. You let him up and immediately started to plate him up some food too. If nothing it would break the ice on your first meeting since you ended it.

He was quiet, but then he always was a man of few words. He accepted the plate of food graciously and sat opposite you and tucked in. You even found him a beer to go with his meal. Once you were done eating you started to clear the plates away. The silence hung heavy in the air and you wondered who would be the first to break it. It wasn’t until you sat in the lounge that Gibbs broke it.

‘I know I’ve been a bastard to you these last few weeks. Will you let me make it up to you?’ he said, those steel-blue eyes pleading for the forgiveness his lips never could.

You sighed. You’d thought long and hard about this. Truth was you loved him deeply and while you felt he loved you, you knew he didn’t always show it. But there was no getting away from the last few month. It had fundamentally changed how you saw him. You knew that side of Gibbs existed, but you had hoped you wouldn’t witness it. Now you had, it was going to be hard to build up that trust again. You’d be hurt by the way he had shunned you.

‘That might be possible in the future but I think we need to take a step back for a while.’ You replied, watching him for a hint of a reaction. Even with his best poker face you could tell that wasn’t the answer he was wanting. You let the silence continue. He took a step closer to you, almost as if to rail against what you had just said.

‘I love you, (y/n). I don’t know how else to say it you,’ he pleaded.

‘Show me then,’ you challenged him.

He studied you, trying to read your mind. ‘How?’ he asked. His arms open and asking the same question.

You thought for a second. ‘I want you to go and talk to someone, someone who can help you work through all the stuff that’s happened to you. I know you don’t like shrinks Jethro but something has got to change.’ You pleaded, your eyes set on him.

You knew you’d asked him the earth. He’d rather go into a gunfight outnumbered 10 to 1 than talk to someone about what he was feeling.

‘It’s up to you. I understand either way,’ you said softly, your hand gently rubbing his arm

He nodded, stepped forward, kissed you gently on the cheek, and made his exit.

******************************

You sat patiently in the waiting room, pretending to read your magazine. You had checked your watch constantly over the last hour. Just when you were about to end out a search party, you spotted him walking towards you. He gave you half a smile. This was a milestone; he’d just completed his first therapy session and you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’d offered to be with him every step along the way. As he stood in front of you, there was clearly a lot going on in that stubborn head. Without saying a word, you took his hand and you walked out of the clinic together.

#ncis fanfiction #ncis #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs #tim mcgee #first tumblr post #ptsd tw #gender netural reader

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marvelousmarvelimagines · 4 years

Text

Everywhere I Go

Pairing - Thor x Reader

Summary - Based on the request, Thor takes Reader to Asgard for the first time. You’re nervous to meet his parents, but Thor’s there to assure you that their opinions don’t matter.

Word Count - 1,538

Warnings - None!

“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked again, your fingers twitching at your side as you attempted to not adjust your clothing for the hundredth time since you’ve been standing there.

“My dear, everything will be fine,” Thor attempted to reassure you.

Except you didn’t believe him. You had never been this nervous to meet the family of someone that you were dating before. Thor insisted that they would all love you, but you weren’t so sure. After the destruction that his brother had caused, and seeing how much he detested the human race, you couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of his family was going to be the same. In your mind, you already knew that you couldn’t compare to Thor, so smart, strong and kind, and you were sure that his family would sense the same thing. You were just a regular person living on Earth. What made you worthy of their son?

You jumped a little when you felt his large hand slipping into your own, and looked up at him with a weak smile that he picked up on. “What are you so nervous about?” He asked, frowning.

“I think a better question would be what am I not nervous about.” You replied, biting your bottom lip.

Thor brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss there. “I’m sure that they’re going to adore you just as much as I do.”

His words and actions made your whole body warm and a genuine smile formed on your face for the first time. Yes, you were still nervous. Of course you were, but at the same time you did know that no matter what his family said, your relationship with Thor wasn’t going to change.

Nevertheless, you wanted them to like you.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and go before I lose my nerve.” You said, squeezing his hand tightly and looking up at the sky. “How does this work anyway?”

“I will call out to Heimdall, and he will open the bifrost. I do suggest that you hold on tight.” He told you.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You slipped your arms tight around his neck while one of his wove around your waist and the other lifted his hammer up in the air. You were stuck between two conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to bury your face in his neck and close your eyes in fear of getting motion sickness from whatever was about to happen, and the other half of you would never forgive yourself for missing any second of the trip that you were about to take.

You kept your eyes open, and you were so glad that you did.

It was hard to describe, the vision as the two of you traveled up and into the air. Colors flashed all around you, every one that you could think of, going by so fast that you could never focus on one. Your stomach plummeted to the floor, but you didn’t feel sick. You were too distracted by everything else. Almost as soon as it started, it was over, and you were surrounded by gold walls with windows and the galaxy. You took your arms from Thor and looked around, speechless at the beauty in front of you.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

You almost jumped, startled at the voice, but managed to compose yourself. Almost immediately you knew that the tall, broad man with the strangest colored eyes you had ever seen had to be Heimdall, Thor’s best friend. “Thank you,” you said, still awestruck. “Heimdall I’m guessing?”

“You would be correct,” he stepped forward and took a bow. “It’s nice to meet you Milady.”

Well, you hoped everyone else would be as welcoming. Though you doubted it. “You too.”

“Would you like to see Asgard now?” Thor asked you, slipping an arm around your waist.

You nodded, excited for more of the beauty to behold, and with a little wave to Heimdall, you let Thor lead you away and to the rainbow bridge.

If you had thought that the journey to Asgard was something to see, that was nothing compared to the city. The architecture was incredible, ornate and intricately designed. Everywhere that you turned there was something to look at. You thought you could spend a dozen lifetimes here and still not see everything.

Then there were the people.

It might have been the fact that you were on the arm of their future King, but everyone was so polite. Even when they weren’t smiling at the two of you, they were talking and laughing with each other. Having grown up in New York City, the sight was foreign to you. “Is everyone here always this happy?” You asked Thor, leaning into his side.

“They are being blessed with the sight of one of the most beautiful women in the galaxy.” Thor said, his lips pressing a quick kiss to your cheek that made you blush. “I expect that might have something to do with their good moods.”

“I’m being serious!” You said.

“As am I!” He replied, smiling at you. “Your beauty rivals the whole kingdom. I also believe they’re happy to see their future King happy as well.” He added.

At that you couldn’t help but smile. Thor could compliment your beauty all day, and while it was flattering, you would rather hear that he was happy with you. There was a lingering voice in the back of your mind, always saying you weren’t enough for someone as important and incredible as Thor, but when he said things like that, it was easy to shut it up. “Then let me rephrase . . . Is the rest of Asgard going to be as happy to see you with a human, specifically Asgardians who call you son?”

It was clear that question wasn’t as easy for him to answer. He took a couple of moments before he responded. “My mother is looking forward to meeting you. I have told her a lot about you. My father . . . well, he knows how fleeting human life can be.”

Ah yes, the big obstacle in your relationship that the two of you had yet to talk about. Thor was going to live hundreds of thousands of years. You would be lucky if you made it to one hundred. To that extent, you understood where Thor’s father was coming from. At the same time though, you knew that Thor was his own man and could make his own decisions, and if his decision was to be with you, you thought his father should respect that. Of course you’d never say this to his face. To be honest, Odin, the Ruler of the Nine Realms, seemed more than terrifying.

“And while I value his opinion on many things, this is not one of them.” Thor continued, stopping for a moment so that he could look in your eyes, those crystal blues capturing you in their gaze. “You are the one I love. He is not going to change that.”

You reached up to cup his cheek in your hand, his beard tickling your palm. “That’s good to know.” You said, honesty ringing in your tone as you leaned up to meet him in a soft and sweet kiss.

Thor’s arms wrapped around you, and you sighed against his lips at the warmth that spread through your body. No matter what you had done in your life, you had never found a feeling better than being in his arms. You could stay there forever, and would have if there hadn’t been a little tug on your dress.

You looked down and discovered a little girl who couldn’t be older than five smiling at you and holding out a beautiful gold necklace. “Excuse me. I think this would look really pretty on you.”

Bending down to the girl’s level, you smiled. “Well, you are quite the salesman aren’t you? Should I try it on?” You looked at her for confirmation, and when she nodded, you looked back up at Thor who nodded as well, an affectionate smile on his face.

The little girl slipped the necklace over your head, and you pulled your hair out from it before standing up and pretending to model it for her. “So what do you think?” You asked.

She clapped her hands, her smile widening so much she was showing dimples. “It looks perfect, right?” She asked, looking up at Thor.

He took your hand and made you do a little twirl as the necklace glowed in the soft light. “You have done a magnificent job milady.” Thor told her, reaching into his pocket and putting some gold coins into her hand. So many that her eyes widened in disbelief. “Please take these for your trouble.”

“That was sweet of you.” You told him, smiling after the little girl.

Thor just shrugged his shoulders. “She made you smile. That is worth more than any coins I could give her.”

Okay, so maybe meeting his parents might turn out to be a nightmare, but even if they did, you would always have this moment. The beauty of Asgard was nothing compared to the way he was looking at you.

#thor #thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor x you #marvel imagine #thor fanfiction

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themissingmarvel · 4 years

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Kind Regards, Detective [Part 5] -Prelude to Deepest Sympathies

(I don’t usually trigger warn or content warn, but this might be a triggering chapter. I’m including the Reader’s Drabble I wrote a little while back as recommended reading prior to this, [Drabble 2] but if it’s hard to read about family death then maybe avoid it. This chapter was hard, but important. And I think sets up a truly important dynamic. I’m a slow-burn romantic kind of lady, and I wanted their relationship to be powerful and important, not just one of lust. Or even basic attraction. I needed it to be human. Anyway I liked writing it, and feedback is always appreciated and loved and treasured ((i seriously reread any feedback and comments)) and as always, ask to be tagged or removed from tagging.

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Death, emotional anguish, PTSD flashbacks, language)

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble2]

She didn’t sleep last night, which was no surprise. She had spent much of the night awake and poring over documents and cataloged pieces. Her own theories had been spun and while some might have felt outlandish in her head, she understood that this was an outlandish case. It had been hard enough to put on those headphones and let herself fall into a trance. Remember her sister. But not directly. She remembered remembering. Buying that damn CD she would play over and over. Peter Gabriel was her sister’s favorite, not that she’d ever tell anyone. Neither would. Her sister touted her love for System of a Down and Trust Company back when those bands made you cool.

For years after her sister passed she had found the only thing that felt vaguely satisfying was leaving that CD on her sister’s grave. And when CDs started becoming scarce, she had spent a few hundred dollars on Amazon buying all of the CDs she could find with that song on it. She’d be damned if she ever missed a single anniversary. Never went on the day of her passing, though. No. That felt sacrilegious. She went on her sister’s birthday, played the song on her headphones, along with a few others, but Heroes was the one that she played most. It was the one she’d leave behind after telling her how her parents had finally divorced, or how her dad had been ‘thinking’ about retiring again. For the hundredth time. Or how she’d been accepted as an Agent and two weeks ago, about how she was feeling so fucking lost.

But memories of memories are easier to put away, and much like her locker that held Detective Loki, her sister’s, much more ornate and much larger, she put those memories of memories away.

Her bag was hanging off her form lazily and her hair was done just enough to be presentable. By no means was she falling apart, but she was working. Working hard meant she lost focus on other parts of herself. It meant she had zeroed in on certain aspects of the case. Like how all of the individuals abducted had been on the same phone carrier, Radius, or how the TV was a model made by the company Source that had been discontinued three years ago, but at the time had been beyond revolutionary. Even now it was considered brilliant. She had found no traces of the nerve agent were discovered at the scene which meant they were probably injected with the pure form. Which meant someone had a lot of it.

Her theories meant that this man was not just dangerous but he had resources. He had access to things that people shouldn’t have access to and maybe he worked with Radius? Had access to their systems? The generator powering the church had been a Source item as well, meaning both were connected. Who used Source and Radius?

The precinct was still somewhat quiet, at 8am, slightly later than yesterday. Shift change had taken place and the detectives were still filtering in. Except for Detective Loki who was hunched at his desk, a long sleeved, form fitting black shirt on his form and black pants hanging off his hips. He looked sleek. Dangerous, even. She could see how someone might fall for someone like him.

Placing her bag down in the conference room, having actually remembered her coffee traveler this time, she glanced up as one of the cops walked in with a box, “Agent Y/L/N, this was left here about an hour ago for you. UPS dropped it off.”

The 2-PAM. She smiled and took it, “Thanks. Kind of nice when things work out like they’re supposed to for once,” she chuckled, curious why the box was so damn light.

The officer left and Y/N looked down, noticing that the label wasn’t stamped ‘FBI’ and in fact the sender name was absent, save for an address in Pennsylvania that didn’t look familiar. Maybe not the FBI?

Her heart suddenly began to race, carefully putting the box down as she looked to the side, seeing Detective Loki still hunched over. The man was on a mission.

Reaching behind herself she withdrew the small switchblade she kept tucked into her waist line, the one that no one ever saw. That was small. Cold and awkward at times but useful. Like now.

Why did this feel like defusing a bomb?

The blade clicked and she carefully began to open the box. She was aware it didn’t matter anymore who touched it, or if she damaged it. She knew whatever was inside the box was key. And with a final tug, the lid opened and she peered inside.

Time stopping had always felt like kind of an exaggeration to Y/N. How does time even ‘stop’? What, does the world freeze? Well, it did.

Staring inside the box she could see the face of a man she knew well, a man who cradled her soul and her heart and sang brilliant love songs to her, who had kept her connected to her sister, even in death. The black CD cover with two red forms on it, her sister claimed them red blood cells but said they looked like rose petals.

Her hand was surprisingly steady as she picked up the note inside, reading the immaculate cursive written on some kind of specialty papyrus paper, “My deepest sympathies, Agent. Your triumph through tragedy only enhances your beauty.”

And with that, she ran for the plastic trash bin nearby and fell to it, retching hard as she threw up the entire contents of her breakfast, causing the box, the note, and the Peter Gabriel CD with Heroes on it to tumble to the floor.

Immediately David heard the noise and jumped, running inside the room as the precinct suddenly jumped to life, turning to take in the scene. The note, CD, and box were on the floor and Y/N was kneeling by the small, cheap plastic trash bin puking.

“What the fu-” David was almost able to spit the words out before a strangely animalistic sound came from her lips, screaming into the bin that she had already emptied the contents of her stomach into.

The world grew quiet as the scream died down, leaving Y/N on her knees with her eyes closed, knuckles white as she gripped the bin as though it were the only thing keeping her alive right now. Stable. Present. Here.

“Get me gloves and bags for the items, now!” David yelled out, to no one in particular as he knelt by the woman in a kind of distress he didn’t know a person could experience from a simple box, “Hey, talk to me, what happened? Are you OK?”

Her face snapped, wiping her lips as she glared, “Do I look OK to you, Detective? Do I fucking look OK?” Her voice was raised, though not yelling.

Snapping back David glared, “Do we need to decontaminate the room? Is there anything infectious?” He looked at her seriously.

Taking a breath her eyes pulled away, “No. No chemicals. But it’s toxic none the less.”

Her voice was quiet as she spoke the words, closing her eyes and trying to forget what she had just seen. Experienced. Felt in her gut. Her soul had been torn forth in that moment and the timing of the CD was so tragically horrifying. For a brief moment of paranoia she wondered if perhaps someone had been able to access her personal phone, heard what she was listening to. The artist. The song.

Getting up rather quickly, Y/N stumbled slightly as she made her way through the people that had clustered, watching as two other detectives came rushing forward with evidence collecting items. Forensics would get it. They’d dust it for fingerprints and they would come up with hers, the delivery driver’s, the handlers at the warehouse… maybe a dozen people. And none would be the culprits. David would direct people to track the package and they would. They’d track it to some nondescript location where cameras weren’t installed and it’d been paid for with cash. She knew it like she knew the songlist on that CD.

Heading for the door of the precinct her head felt light, woozy, and she was struggling for something stable. Something to keep her grounded. Even as she threw open the doors of the building, those glass doors lined with metal, solid as hell, heavy as fuck, she ran out into the bitter air, feeling the cold devour her skin.

More.

She didn’t realize it but she was running now, into the parking lot, David not far behind, though he didn’t exist right now. Her sister’s smile was there, a true memory in its purest form, the smile she had wanted to see last night but didn’t want tainted and tied to this psychopath now.

Unthinking and perhaps uncaring, her hands grabbed at the hem of her sweater, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it to the ground of the parking lot filled only with cars, otherwise without a soul. The air was frigid as it enveloped her and tore her from reality. She gasped as the item fell, leaving her in her form-fitted white t-shirt and jeans alone, able to see her breath as she felt it stopping her from hyperventilating, the cold burning her skin, tearing at her and pulling her out of this other reality.

Once, during training, she had been shot. Not with a real bullet, of course, but shot none the less. A rubber bullet the academy insisted they feel the impact of to know what they might use in certain circumstances. And, perhaps, be prepared for since it’d be similar to a bullet hitting a bulletproof vest. The bullet had been fired by some complete and utter asshole Thomas Engleson, a man who didn’t think women could hack it. He shot her in the ribcage, instead of the stomach. He hit her directly. Not indirectly. And of course he was excused for it.

The pain of the shot had been incredible but she had gritted her teeth and taken it in. A cracked rib meant she was out for a bit, but it didn’t actually stop her. She kept training. Moving. Not exacerbating the damage but doing just enough to keep going. But the pain of that moment had been etched into her body’s memory.

This hurt worse.

Her skin was covered in goosebumps from the cold, beginning to shiver as she stood, perhaps for ten minutes, David standing behind her as he looked at her. This woman unshaken by so much, who had taken in twelve dead bodies and kept going, who took information meant to terrify and had kept pushing. Whatever had been in that note, in that box, had been meant just for her on a level those notes for David never touched.

It felt like an ache, standing in the cold as he watched the woman he had found himself so fond of suddenly pushing out the entire world as though it might infect her. He wanted to grab her sweater, wrap her in it, and pull her close. He’d swear to god he’d get the guy. And he would, even if he didn’t tell her that. He swore as he watched her, that finding this man would be his only task. He wouldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t eat. This was Dover and Birch, but now he was the onve involved. His own life was on the line.

“Do you ever wonder what it feels like to die, David?” The words were loud enough for him to hear, the wind suddenly picking up as she stared ahead to the road leading into the precinct, fairly empty though cars scattered about, the day cloudy and bitter.

He took a moment to consider it. He had. He had wondered once, when the kid in his backseat was frothing at the mouth, if maybe he prayed hard enough her poison would go into his body. He could take it, he thought. Better let the child live. He had seen enough, “Yes.” He answered simply. Now was not the time for banter.

A sort of dark chuckle left her lips, “I used to wonder what it might be like to die. After my sister was killed, I thought it was the only thing left that could actually scare me. The world couldn’t hurt me any more than it did when I was seventeen. I didn’t want to die, I still don’t, but I knew I could face that fear.

“But now? God, David… I wish I was fucking dead.” She fell to her knees so suddenly it caught David by surprise, running to her as he grabbed her sweater, saying ‘fuck it’ to the world as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her body to his as he tried to finagle a way to keep her sweater on her as well.

No sobs or cries escaped her lips as her body went lax, falling against him as she wondered, perhaps, if maybe just giving in to this would be best. This felt so goddamn dramatic, and maybe it was, but for good reason. This man had found out one of her most intimate details of her life and sent it to her in a box. He had delivered to her a piece of her, and what scared her most was the fact that this man, this murderer, thought he was showing some sort of deranged compassion.

Time seemed to stop and David was grateful for the fact that they were far enough away, and behind most of the cars in the lot, that the world wouldn’t see them like this. He could smell the free, nondescript shampoo offered by the hotel, unsurprised that she wasn’t doused in perfume. But she did smell of something. Her own personal brand of herself. Pushing back some of her hair he spoke, “You can’t go anywhere yet. You can’t possibly trust me to finish this case by myself,” he grinned, stopping himself from pressing his lips against her head.

Chuckling, despite her desire not to, she shook her head, “I sure as hell don’t expect you to solve this alone. You need my theories, Detective Loki. I came up with a bunch last night.” It was tragic in a way, how fast she was working to compartmentalize. Whoever it was that had sent her the letter had done a bang-up job scaring the shit out of her. He had opened the locker that held her sister and emptied the contents without permission. But Y/N was cleaning it up. She was fixing it. In her mind she was already putting herself and all those pieces back together.

Looking confused David pulled away slightly, “Don’t you think you should go get coffee or something? Take a- Ah, fuck, who am I kidding. You’re not listening to me, are you?”

The ghost of a smile crept onto her lips as she raised an eyebrow, looking at David now, “Not really. And I mean, what’s stopping going to do? We both know I’m invested. He… he may have targeted you and those other detectives, and honed onto you, but with me… I’m a happy accident. He picked me. I don’t want to be another body in a church, David,” her eyes changed as she looked at him, suddenly fragile and vulnerable, opening her heart to this man. Detective. The one holding her in the parking lot of the precinct while both tried to put together what they just went through.

Stroking her cheek lightly David whispered, “And you won’t be. You’re gonna get up, put your sweater on, and go back inside. And when everyone looks at you, or asks if you’re OK, you’re not gonna smile or fake it, you stare at them. Through them. None of them matter now. Not a single soul inside. We’re gonna find this asshole, and we’re gonna stop him. Now get up.”

He pulled away, nothing truly romantic in the gesture but one that broke her just the same. They were words that felt charged with something more than a pep talk, but instead felt like a true demand. David understood she wasn’t some person who just fell over because they were pushed. She’d stumble. She’d fall. And he knew she could get right back up and go back to bat. And as she stood, David doing the same, he watched her eyes as she put the sweater on. Something had changed, briefly, something else. Something oddly dark that he couldn’t put his finger on, but understood she perhaps needed. The same thing he had needed in his time.

Turning her back to him, Y/N made her way back towards the precinct, her feet marching with purpose, her eyes focused, laser focused, as she understood what this was. This man chose people. Always. He had a reason and a purpose and it was never an accident. He had found the CD she brought to her sister’s grave (though she suspected it wasn’t the same one), he had written a detailed note, and he had found the one thing in this world she was still so very vulnerable to.

Now she was going to find him.

( @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @detecellie @oscarflysaac @peccobagnaia @fgtakbrjbdl @doritosandavocados @miss-missing-patd

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