#ive had this rotting in my drafts for like a week

[tatonslice]

tasty treat (heavily referenced from mv)

[triglycercule]

i want to headcanon the mtt having absolutely terrible hygiene and struggling to keep themselves clean (this MAY... just QUITE POSSIBLY.... only in the SLIGHTEST bit be projection) but i think it would be too gross and man EVEN I dont wanna think about that

also killer canonically smells good and i actually really LIKE that idea so oh shit there goes that idea out the window. horror and dust youre my only hope please let me make you smell bad for reasons you won't understand

[pupyuj]

→ “ruin our friendship.” || kim gaeul x reader fic.

— for years, gaeul has trusted your heart and tried to find whatever good you saw in your douchebag of a boyfriend, but she has had enough. and now she wants to show you that you deserve so much better...

word count: 6.9k.

dynamic: dom!kim gaeul x sub!taken!reader.

warnings: bffs-to-lovers, cheating, oral, fingering, cunnilingus, facesitting, faceriding, overstimulation, masturbation, praise kink.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: i don't even know how long this has been rotting in my drafts but SHE IS FINALLY FREE! and we have our first gaeul fic AND I HAVE OFFICIALLY WRITTEN A FIC FOR EVERY IVE MEMBER EYAYYYY 🥰💖 now i don't have to worry about possibly looking like i favor one member more than the others omg guys i can assure you i have thoughts about ive unnies all the time, the ones for yujin are just loud as FUCK. much like herself. ANYWAYS, HEHE I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING THIS and i hope you all love it 💕

p.s. as usual this is not proofread thoroughly so apologies in advance for any mistakes! 😭💞

ever since entering college, you and your best friend gaeul have had to match your schedules perfectly in order to hang out and even talk regularly. those assignments couldn’t finish themselves after all, as much as you hoped they did. years before, you and her would have the time of your lives shopping and visiting the many different restaurants your vast city offered, but now, everything was different. and in gaeul’s most humble opinion, your busy lives as college students wasn’t the only problem. she could name a few actually! there was her part-time job at her mechanic father’s service shop where she spends most of her time sitting on a chair and listening to middle-aged men try to woo her as they wait for their car to get fixed, and there was your side gig as some small-time coordinator in a pretty popular live house in the downtown part of the city.

but gaeul can’t exactly be angry at your jobs for pulling the two of you away from each other! what she can be angry about was you were always distracted whenever you did go out together. here’s a clear picture: you would be sitting with her in a cute coffee shop after two weeks of not being able to see each other and there gaeul is, talking about the shenanigans that happens in her classes, her dad’s shop, and her life in general. then, she’d find you spacing out, or staring at your phone—just completely ignoring her. for the first few times it happened, gaeul just thought that perhaps you were just worried about your schoolwork!

it made sense after all. you were some kind of academic overachiever that always used to nag at gaeul to finish her geometry homework during your high school days. gaeul was going to be fine with it all; she even thought about things she could tell you to soothe your head but one little peek at your phone screen ruined it all. every ounce of patience in gaeul just disappeared into thin air once she saw that you were distressed because of your stupid boyfriend’s messages.

ugh. your boyfriend.

now, gaeul wasn’t one to shit on her best friend’s lovers just because, okay? ninety-three percent of the time she has a valid reason! here’s the breakdown: your boyfriend is manipulative, abusive, possessive, and ugly. one would say that maybe he wasn’t always that way, or that maybe he’s struggling with things! well, gaeul can confirm that he has always been horrible to you and that whatever the fuck he’s dealing with doesn’t give him the excuse to be such an asshole to someone that genuinely cares for him. gaeul can’t even count how many times you’ve showed up at her doorstep in tears because of him. 

she really can’t understand why you’re still dating him. it’s been about five years since the two of you got together and really, the only good thing you got from that relationship is a ride to the campus and if you’re lucky and he actually feels like being a decent boyfriend for once, some fancy clothes. clothes that he picks out for you, and he can’t even get that shit right! he doesn’t know your style, the kind of clothes you want to wear, the brands you’ve always wanted to get clothes from, and in general, you. gaeul knows people like him all too well. people that only want you to fill a very specific void in their miserable life.

gaeul can’t stand him. you deserve so much better, you can do so much better.

and gaeul is better.

just like that, an idea pops up in gaeul’s head as she sits in a booth in her favorite diner, but she didn’t have time to think about it because she looks out the window and there you were in a pretty, pink sundress with your hair arranged in a cute braid adorned with little butterfly clips. gaeul lets out a chuckle—rei, your roommate, must’ve helped you with that. gaeul also notices that you were wearing the sneakers that the two of you bought together so you could match, which warmed her heart. even more so when she remembers that she was wearing her own pair of those sneakers too!

gaeul watched patiently as you entered the diner and greeted the waitress behind the counter like you always do. a bright smile spreads across your face once you find gaeul in your usual booth, and gaeul feels herself flashing her very own grin as you start walking faster towards her.

“hey! sorry, i’m late. i had to change my entire outfit. i didn’t think it would be so warm today.” you said, pulling gaeul into a quick hug before sitting across from her. gosh, you looked beautiful! the baby hairs that stuck to your forehead and the sides of your face only made you look even cuter, gaeul almost wanted to reach out and pinch your cheeks.

“careful. look any prettier and someone might mistake you as my girlfriend.” gaeul quipped. she finds herself grinning proudly as you laugh.

“you look dashing yourself! they probably already think you’re my boyfriend, but you’re not neglecting me for ‘a night with the boys’ so we would get found out quickly.” you sighed. you were clearly disappointed, but you covered it up with another laugh before sipping on the glass of water gaeul kindly ordered for you.

“then today is a date. he probably hasn’t taken you in one for ages, anyway.” gaeul doesn’t know if you’ll actually buy it. she wasn’t even joking! as far as she knows, his version of dates is taking you on a boring ass car ride and spoiling you with useless shit. she knows what you want on dates. she knows what you want in general. let this work.

you giggled, “true. it’s a date then.” and she doesn’t miss the shy smile on your face afterwards.

well! it looks like this was going to be easier than gaeul predicted.

as the two of you ate your lunch, you talked about school and how life has been treating you both. you were thriving for the most part! you were up to date with your coursework, your job hasn’t been too demanding or taxing, and you were able to have enough breathing space in your life to actually meet up with gaeul, like right now! it seems like the only problem in your life was your boyfriend. he hasn’t been spending too much time with you, and one would think it might be because he’s gotten busier but nope, he’s as shitty as gaeul describes him to be. he only wants to hang out with his team and his stupid friends, and he barely talks to you even in text! that asshole.

gaeul didn’t let you dwell on it all though. she absolutely detests seeing you upset. especially over that useless fucker. she distracts you with a few funny shenanigans from working in her dad’s shop, and how she has actually been doing quite well in her classes! it was clearly your influence. hell, if it weren’t for you, gaeul wouldn’t even be in college at all! you gave her direction, and now you were giving her all the motivation she needs to make it through one school day at a time.

fuck, your boyfriend was so lucky. gaeul has to let you see that he wasn’t worth anything you’re giving him. she has to pull you away and make you see that a pretty girl like you needs to feel good!

in more ways than one.

“so, boyfriend, where are we going?” you joked as you settled yourself in the passenger seat of her car. while gaeul started the engine, that was when she put her little scheme in motion.

“bowling. or rather, sending the balls to the gutter for two hours straight.” she said. bowling happens to be your favorite stress reliever, it always has been! gaeul always liked watching you as you played. even when you didn’t hit any of the pins, you still had fun. gaeul was willing to bet that your pathetic boyfriend rarely ever takes you bowling.

“god you’re the best.”

“mhm, i know.”

from then on, gaeul knew it was going to be a breeze. especially when she did get on the road and you just allowed her to put her hand on your thigh. you didn’t even notice at first, occupied with fixing your charming but unruly hair. but then gaeul lightly squeezed your thigh, caressing slowly just to test the waters, and finally, you noticed her. she was afraid that your attitude would change, but it seemed like… you liked what she was doing. and so gaeul’s hand stays in place. she took note of how you squeezed your legs together every time she caresses your skin gently, or how you would sometimes put your hand on top of hers.

the drive to the bowling alley was quiet, save for the music you’ve put on, of course. silence was a rarity between the two of you since there was always something to catch up on, things to complain and whine about, people to talk shit about, and casual conversations that have become needed just to have some sense of normality in your chaotic lives. gaeul was afraid she had made you uncomfortable because come on, she was quite literally trying to take over your boyfriend’s place! joke or not, this was bound to make you just the least bit weirded out!

imagine gaeul’s surprise when she briefly glanced over to your direction and find you looking relaxed. not even the constant buzzing of your phone was able to break your focus on the road. just like that, gaeul doesn’t stop a smile from forming on her face. forget about him.

and it seems like as soon as gaeul parked her car near the bowling alley—you did! you took gaeul’s arm and started gingerly dragging her through the doors, giggling as you did so. it was easy to secure a spot for the two of you, the place wasn’t too busy yet after all.

“two hours of this? you ready to lose, kim?” you said with a mocking smile as you approached the lane. gaeul sat back on the couches behind you, smirking as she very shamelessly checked your backside out unbeknownst to you. there was a small table in the middle of the u-shaped couch that gaeul sat on where you laid down your phone. as you busied yourself making your cute little bowling profile on the monitor near the lane, gaeul glances down at your phone that kept lighting up at it vibrated. your boyfriend was calling you, and he has sent you a dozen or more messages that you still haven’t bothered to look at.

gaeul sneers at the picture of your boyfriend on the screen. he really didn’t deserve you! luckily for him, she will happily take you off his hands. gaeul takes your phone and declines the call, smiling happily when she leaned back on the couch and continued on staring at your beautiful form. you hooked a medium-sized ball with your hand and prepared yourself—sure, you were never the best at the sport but you were to have fun and have fun only! and so you delivered the ball and hit exactly seven pins. gaeul tilts her head a bit to see the look of pure joy on your face and finds herself grinning along with you.

for once, it was not at all a bad start for you! you grabbed the smaller ball and prepared to take down the last three pins at the other end of the lane. upon staring at your near flawless little pose that especially accentuated your ass, gaeul whistles. the sound catches you off-guard and you end up messing up your throw, sending the ball into the gutter in a fit of laughter.

“you little devil.” you said, playfully glaring at your best friend who has stood up and started stretching all of her limbs.

“this is where your short-lived lucky streak ends,” gaeul pats your butt as she approaches the lane. and of course, she didn’t lie. gaeul delivers a ball and hits her first (and certainly not last!) strike. she winked at you while you stared at her, mouth agape at how she didn’t even hesitate to not go easy on you. “cat got your tongue, baby?” your best friend teased.

you don’t even notice the nickname, what with your competitive spirit alive and well. “oh, it is so on, kim gaeul!”

and for the next two hours, you and gaeul had the best time of your life in that bowling alley. the longer the two of you were together and the more you got drunk from pure joy of being with each other, gaeul got bolder. she was touching your waist, your back, and sometimes even rested her hand on your ass for more than a few seconds! you didn’t care—in fact, you were just as bad! grabbing her and pulling her close to whisper things in her ear (partly because the music would have drowned your voice, mostly because you wanted gaeul nearer), allowing her to not-so-discreetly touch you in places a best friend should definitely not, and finally, sitting on her lap, playing with the collar of her shirt and telling her to take you to her home.

exactly zero innocent intent at all, and gaeul was seemingly more than happy to comply!

on the way to gaeul’s apartment, it was noticeably… warm. both of your hearts were beating fast and loud from anticipation. gaeul yearned to feel your skin without the hindrance of your clothes getting in the way. her fingertips itched to feel goosebumps run along your arm, shoulders, and back as she touched you in ways she always dreamed of doing. her lips longed to taste yours since she knew that peach-flavored chapstick you two liked to share would taste so much sweeter if you were the direct source. gaeul wanted you, and she was going to have you—boyfriend be fucking damned.

when gaeul flipped the lock on her door, the two of you were all over each other. bags and jackets thrown to some random corners, shoes messily removed and left all over the living room area. gaeul barely twisted open the doorknob of her bedroom door, being so focused on exploring every crevice of your mouth with her tongue until she tugs you inside her room. her lips stayed locked with yours as she sat on her bed and pulled you to her lap, hiking your dress up and squeezing your ass. your moans were much, much sweeter than she imagined. she shivers at the feeling of your fingers playing with the back of her neck, her own whimpers only encouraging you to busy your hands with unbuttoning her shirt.

when you’ve successfully taken her shirt off, your dress was next. and gaeul made sure to take her sweet time with that! her hands caressed your thighs, gently squeezed your hips and even moved you so you could grind on her thigh (the cute whine she earned from that was very much appreciated!), and then her hands stayed wrapped around your waist as she placed soft kisses along your collarbone. you could feel her smile against your skin when you squeezed at her arms, knowing damn well what you wanted but refusing to give it to you because… well, if this happens to be the only time she fucks you then she might as well make it last!

finally, when gaeul was satisfied with the little marks she had left on your collarbone, she started pulling the ribbon on your back and loosened up your dress. “you made sure to look pretty for me, huh?” she asked as she watched you undress yourself. she took note of the bright blush on your cheeks under her dark stare, and it made her think that perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was thinking of fucking her best friend for the longest time. meanwhile, in your defense, it’s been quite a while since you had to dress yourself up and what better occasion to do that than hanging out with your best friend?

plus, if it got you to get fucked by the friend in question then you’d say that the two-hour preparation was worth it!

when gaeul laid you down on the bed, she noticed how you suddenly became quite tense, looking as though your boyfriend was about to come breaking down gaeul’s doors to drag you back with him. gaeul made sure to relieve you by kissing your forehead, taking your hands with hers and then putting your knuckles to her lips. “you’re safe with me, (y/n).” she whispered, pecking your knuckles gently and smiling at you. sure, it works… but the fear that bubbled up in your stomach did not go away.

“if he finds out about this…” you pull your best friend close, letting her embrace you while you wrap your arms around her neck.

gaeul scoffed arrogantly, “he won’t—”

“—if he does, i don’t know what i’ll do,” you never told gaeul that your boyfriend has been watching out for her for the longest time. he was always suspicious of gaeul, saying that he was so sure that she wanted to fuck you and make you hers. because of his suspicions (that now proved to be true), he always made sure to be annoying and text you and call you an absurd amount of times whenever you were hanging out with gaeul. he never does that when you’re out with your other friends. no. that behavior was reserved for the one person he was threatened by. “i don’t want him to hurt you.” you said. you can’t even imagine what he would do to you, let alone the girl he absolutely detests.

“he’s as dumb as a brick. i could fuck you in his own bathroom and he’d have no idea.” gaeul makes a mental note to reserve that exact scenario in the future.

you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, “you know he can very much send you to the hospital, right? he’s like, three heads taller than you!”

“three heads yet he’s still stupid enough to treat you horribly and practically give you away to me,” gaeul sneaks her hands behind you, unclasps your bra and pulls it off of you in one swift motion. your heart beats louder every second gaeul’s eyes travel downward, soaking in more and more of your naked beauty that she longed to set her eyes on forever. “i’ll teach him a thing or two about giving a pretty girl the pleasure she deserves.”

every doubt and fear you had evaporates into nothing as soon as gaeul puts her lips against your skin once again. sucking, biting, licking—anything she can do to leave marks and make you remember this night akin to a skilled painter perfecting their masterpiece with every stroke. you feel gaeul’s hand trail down your stomach and palm your soaked panties, and you had an almost automatic reaction to grind against her, blushing wildly upon hearing her chuckle at your enthusiasm. gaeul wraps her warm mouth around your nipple, your back arching at the feeling. an embarrassingly loud moan escapes your mouth when she flicks the hardened bud and presses her palm flat against your clit at the same time.

you were losing further control of your actions. grinding restlessly on gaeul’s hand for further pleasure, taking her free hand to play with your other breast, and even pushing her head impossibly closer to your chest. she was skilled with her tongue—you shuddered at the mere thought of what else she could do to you should this night go on for longer. you feel gaeul slide her hand inside your panties, only to feel your pussy with her fingers rather than fucking you immediately.

it was adorable how impatient you were. you needed and wanted to be pleasured. it must have been quite a while since you’ve gotten some action—gaeul isn’t surprised that even in sex your boyfriend can’t deliver. every flick of your nipple, every pinch to the other one, every parting of your pussy lips, and every brush against your clit, you were mewling. you would be embarrassed if you actually heard yourself but instead, all you could focus on was the little pleasure gaeul was giving you right now.

“that feel good, hon?” gaeul asks as she presses her lower palm against your clit harder than ever. she found your little nods endearing and your inability to find the words to answer her only inflates her ego, but as much as she would love to tease you all day long, she was just as desperate for you as you are for her.

“how long has it been since he’s made you cum?” she asked, slowly pulling your panties off and letting it drop to the floor. gaeul keeps her eyes fixed on you, looking for discomfort or doubt or any sign that tells her how you could be feeling about all of this. while gaeul knows that the two of you have already crossed a point of no return, she knows that if you gave yourself the time to think about all of this, you would come to your senses. in other words, you would get the fuck out of her house and never talk to her again. it would be disheartening, yes, but gaeul unfortunately knows you well enough to know that it would be possible.

to her surprise though, you seemed to have stopped caring now. you didn’t even bother to glance at your phone that was on the floor, vibrating wildly due to the amount of times you were being called by your boyfriend. you only silently beckoned for gaeul to touch you, to taste you, to claim you. and gaeul doesn’t need to be asked twice to oblige!

“he… he has never made me cum.” you admitted, looking away from the embarrassment.

“are you serious?” gaeul laughs, but then her jovial expression is replaced with an incredulous one. “you guys do have sex, right?”

“of course we do! just… h-he’s horrible at it… every time we’re done, i have to get myself off because he never can!” you covered your face in frustration, now just wondering how you actually survived years without being able to cum with your partner during the act.

“fuck, he really is worth nothing at all, huh?” gaeul cackles. ah, poor you… but you didn’t have to worry about not cumming tonight, because gaeul just now made a silent promise that she’ll make you cum as many times as you want. she lowers herself so she could be facing your pussy, all wet and ready just for her. just as gaeul was about to bury her face in between your legs, you take a hold of one of her hands and intertwine it with yours, making her heart swell with affection. she doesn’t look back up at you, knowing that the blush on her cheeks would be too noticeable. gaeul starts off giving your cunt gentle kisses and little licks—hearing you softly whimper and seeing you jolt every time the tip of her tongue so much as brush slightly around your clit gets her adrenaline going, and eventually, gaeul commits herself to eating you out.

within mere minutes of practically making out with your pussy, gael feels you put your free hand behind gaeul’s head and pushes her closer. “more…” you could barely say, too caught up with the euphoric feeling gaeul has instilled in you using her tongue alone. it takes everything in gaeul to let go of your hand to part your lips to have better access to your clit, and when you grabbed a fistful of her hair and let out a beautiful moan, gaeul knew she was doing something right.

something adorable gaeul notices is that you were extremely sensitive when it comes to your clit, more than any woman gaeul has ever been intimate with and even herself. she licks a stripe up your cunt, relishing in your taste and the way you whine her name, before sucking on your clit. it’s almost as if you’ve never had your pussy eaten out this good before! and truthfully, you really haven’t. gaeul’s own satisfied moans created a buzz in your head, letting you know just how much she loved and savored your taste with each lick. she brings a new kind of pleasure when she makes out with your clit at a gentle, slow pace. the kind of pleasure you would never find your boyfriend (or anyone else for that matter) to be giving you.

it almost makes you wonder what gaeul’s true intentions were. of course, you weren’t expecting her to be completely in love with you. if she was, the first thing she would do to show it was not making you cheat on your boyfriend with her. was she just looking for a quick hook-up? but if that was the case, she could have just grabbed some random girl instead of putting your friendship in an awkward spot like this. perhaps you were just another box in a list that she wants to check off, but that would be cruel and completely unlike the gaeul you have known since the two of you were young. with the way she was cautious with how she fucked you, touched you, and even handled you during all of this, you wanted to believe that she has some sort of undiscovered feelings towards you.

but why were you even thinking about that? did you even have feelings for her? that was a dangerous territory you never wanted to explore, not when you cherished your friendship too much. but the ‘idea’ of dating your own best friend was never really just an idea with you. not when gaeul had ten times the charm that makes your boyfriend look like some hopeless wimp. not when gaeul will forever be the person that knows you the best. not when every time she does something as simple as tell you you’re pretty, or open a door for you, or laugh at your jokes, or smile at you so handsomely, the tiniest of butterflies flutter around in your stomach.

it was a scary feeling, one that you always hoped to go away one day but these days, and especially today, it has been hard. maybe when this is over… you don’t have to run away from it anymore, because when you look at gaeul’s eyes that pierced right through yours even as she was eating you out, you can see something beyond the hunger, the lust, and the desperation.

whatever it was, you found yourself more willing to uncover it, even if it might ruin everything.

“you’re so perfect, (y/n)...” gaeul snaps you out of your trance and immediately after, she dips her tongue inside you. “you’re better off with someone else… someone who knows you better, inside and out… mmhn... don’t you agree, princess?”

you whine shamelessly, “y-yes..! ahh… with you…” now you didn’t even mean to let that slip past your lips, but gaeul seems beyond satisfied that you did. completely addicted to your taste, gaeul pulls you closer and further down the bed by your waist, your back arching with how well she was using her mouth. the pleasure gaeul brought was enough to make your thighs twitch, your legs slightly rise in the air, and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“you cumming soon, baby…?” gaeul asks, briefly lifting her head slightly from in between your legs. a sly smirk graced her features, knowing that the cause of your incoherence was her. it gives her the confidence to do a lot more to you, to do everything she has been wanting to do for years. you seem to notice how she had paused to stare at you, and you shoved her face back down to your core, earning a chuckle from her. gaeul pushes your thigh back, almost lifting your leg up, for better access and eats you out better than before as if that was even possible.

at this point both of your hands were on her head. you would be worried about the tight grip you had on her hair but you were way too busy on that tight knot in your stomach. you think you hear gaeul encouraging you to cum, and you can vaguely feel her palm resting on your stomach and it does help you relax a bit. enough for you to have the strength to look down at your best friend, whose eyes have always been on you this entire time. god, she was pretty… and she looked like she belonged right where she was. she didn’t give you any more time to admire her though, as a flick of her tongue on your clit sends you to a blissful orgasm.

your body softly falls backwards your bed as you throw your head back with only gaeul’s name filling the air. gaeul spends a good few seconds staring at your face—her doing. you were simply bewitching in her eyes. she made sure to take her time cleaning you up while you came down from your high, waiting patiently until you’ve caught your breath and calmed down. she sees you breathing normally and smiles before rising up, attacking your face with a barrage of kisses while you laugh and take her in your arms.

“don’t get comfortable. this is all we’re doing until morning.” gaeul, more than ready to please you all day and night long, places a wet kiss on your collarbone before sliding her hand in between your legs. she was well on her way down your core until her phone blares loudly—someone was calling her. she ignores the sound, opting to kiss down your neck while her fingers start ghosting over your clit. and just then, you turned your head and got a glimpse of the caller id on the gaeul’s screen. but gaeul sees it first and she swipes her phone away with a dark chuckle.

“w-who is it…?” you asked quietly, not wanting to alert whoever was on the other end. gaeul’s smile grows wider as she puts the caller on speaker. your heart drops to your stomach as soon as you hear the other person’s voice. 

a man. your man. your fucking boyfriend!

“are you there, kim?”

sheer panic courses within you. you tried grabbing gaeul’s hand, but she moves away, pressing a single finger against your lip. and then her mouth moves, but she doesn’t make a sound. trust me, she says silently. you kept still, trusting your best friend to not do anything stupid. of course she wouldn’t put you in any danger just to have fun, but you did worry that she would set your boyfriend off enough for him to do something to her. your heart beats loudly in your chest and goosebumps appear all over your skin. you were terrified beyond comprehension, but gaeul’s soft caresses and reassuring eyes comfort you, even just a little bit.

“what do you want?” gaeul asked, annoyed that he just had to interrupt the two of you. her hand once again travels downwards your body until she reaches your cunt. she traces your lips before inserting the smallest length of her two fingers, making you bite back a moan.

“where’s (y/n)? why isn’t she answering her phone?”

gaeul grins and plunges her fingers deep inside you, she couldn’t hold back a quiet laugh as she watched you choke out a moan. you immediately covered your mouth, pitifully glaring at your best friend but not being completely mad at her. her fingers felt too good inside you—staying perfectly still just to get you to get used to the feeling until she starts moving, slow and steady as if she herself was savoring the feeling of your cunt clench around her digits.

“what was that? is that her? are you fucking my girlfriend?!”

gaeul cackles, “you wouldn’t know what (y/n) sounds like when being fucked even if you’re the one fucking her.” she increases her pace, even nodding towards you to get you to relax and just keep trusting her because she could feel your fear. it made her angry. no one should claim to be your partner if they made you feel so afraid of them. you shouldn’t have to beg for them for their time and love either. if gaeul had known that this was what everything from back then would lead up to, then she would’ve intervened when you and your boyfriend were still just acquaintances. but there was no point in dwelling on that because she has the opportunity to make this all right.

and the correct ending to all of this was her freeing you from him, him ending up all alone, and the two of you figuring out what to do with each other.

“you bitch! i swear to god if that’s (y/n)—”

“—i’m not fucking my best friend, shithead. you should start worrying more about the fact that she’s refusing to call your lacking ass back.” gaeul watches you intently as you slowly lose most of yourself to her. moving your hips accordingly, meeting her little thrusts with eagerness that only got gaeul herself drenched. you tugged on gaeul’s top, silently asking her to get off the call already and just fuck you. and that you didn’t have to ask her twice, of course. while your boyfriend kept yelling at her, gaeul ends the call before blissfully dropping her phone to the ground.

you don’t know what came over you, but all of a sudden you wanted to see your best friend under you. tugging her down harder, catching her lips with yours in a searing kiss… feeling sick satisfaction in you when she stiffened at your sudden surge of passion, and using her shock to flip your positions over. gaeul pulls her fingers out, putting them on your hips instead and trying to keep up with the way you kissed her feverishly.

“you’re cute…” gaeul whispers, thoroughly entertained by you. ugh, those eyes. that nose, her perfect moles, her smile, that mouth… fuck. you have to feel her lips on your pussy again but this time… you wanted to be in control. you smile at your best friend as you swipe your thumb across her lips before getting in position.

“holy shit, (y/n)—”

“—shut up, man.” you cut her off with your face so warm you think you might explode. she didn’t look like she was turned off by the idea. in fact, gaeul places her hands on your thighs, looking more excited than she has ever been this entire time. “t-tell me if i’m hurting you… or anything.” you said. gaeul merely nods, eyes focused on your core. you were going to say a few more words, maybe tell her that you haven’t sat on anyone’s face in a while so you might be bad at this but gaeul couldn’t wait another second. she pulls you down, and the sound that escapes your lips when her nose bumps against your clit was simply criminal.

“ffuck…! oh, g-god…!” with one hand tightly gripping the headboard and the other holding onto a random pillow, you start riding gaeul’s face. and again, she was moaning. as if a better flavor has never graced her tongue until she got to taste you. gosh, the way you threw your head back and let every lewd sound fill the air as you rode her got gaeul clenching, but she couldn’t keep her hands off of you either. she squeezed your thighs, almost as if she was encouraging you to go faster and just use her.

“mmhgn… so good… more, please..” letting go of the pillow and the headboard, you put your hands on gaeul’s head. you ride her faster, focused on pleasing yourself and chasing another orgasm while gaeul does her work with her tongue. it was getting harder and harder to hold herself back from touching her own pussy; she was too drenched and you were simply too delicious. at this rate, she might just cum untouched! the idea of it was humiliating almost, but gaeul figured that if she made you cum hard enough then you wouldn’t even realize what had happened to her. but then again… why would she go through all that trouble?

with one hand, gaeul reaches down and unzips her jeans, sliding further down and massaging her clit through her panties. of course, you don’t see this. you don’t even hear gaeul over the sound of your whimpering and moaning—all you wanted was to use her mouth to get yourself off. you managed to open your eyes slightly, however, and looked down at gaeul. her eyes were shut off, eyebrows furrowed deeply as she diligently ate out and fingered herself at the same time. 

you heart swells as you allow yourself to etch every single facial feature of hers in your mind. you didn’t think you’d find a more fitting place for your best friend. it turns out she looked good underneath you, too! when you got distracted by admiring gaeul’s face, you felt a sting on your ass. you gasped loudly, and although it caught you off guard, you liked it. you moved your hips enthusiastically as gaeul squeezed your ass, now glaring at you to intimidate you to keep going. and it works! well, it’s not like you were going to stop just like that.

“p-pretty… you belong right here…” you said, gripping her hair tighter. gaeul moans at your words and she feels herself only clenching tighter around her own fingers. she didn’t expect to get so turned on by merely fucking you and hearing you talk to her in such a different way than usual. she pushes her tongue inside your cunt, making you scream in pleasure. gaeul’s ears ring at the sound of your voice—she was sure now that you wouldn’t dare go back to that pathetic boyfriend of yours.

you were hers now. and she has always been yours.

“gaeul… babe, i’m cumming—god…!” with one last thrust on your best friend’s face, you came. moaning blissfully in the air as gaeul allowed you to ride your orgasm out, and while she laps up your cum as best as she could, she hits a satisfying climax which grants you the perfect chance to hear a cute squeak from her. gaeul removes her hand from her panties and holds you down on her face, not entirely satisfied to let you go even though she can see that you can barely keep yourself sitting. that wasn’t going to be a problem anymore though as gaeul once again flipped your positions so you would be sitting on the bed and she would still be in between your legs.

“mmh… stop, i’m tired… please.” you shake your head weakly, gently tapping gaeul’s hand. fortunately enough, your best friend respected your wishes and stopped, opting to scoop you up in her arms instead and hug you. you laughed at how much of a mess you made on your best friend’s face, wiping all of it clean with your hands before giving her a quick kiss. gaeul doesn’t forget to get rid of her pants before staying completely still in bed with you, staring at nothing but your pretty face for minutes on end.

you think you fell asleep a couple of times, and you ended up always opening your eyes to gaeul smiling dumbly at you like a lovesick puppy. if you had known gaeul allowed herself to see you in such a different light, then you wouldn’t have wasted time trying to fall in love with a boy who did nothing good for you. but no matter, you were going to leave him, and finally, you and your best friend can work towards a more fulfilling relationship for the two of you.

“i always knew it’d be you in the end.” gaeul whispers as she leaves the tiniest and sweetest kisses on your knuckles.

the tiniest bits of fear settled in the pit of your stomach—you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out about this at all. you wanted to protect gaeul and dump his ass with as much as peace as you can manage, but you know he was going to bring her up somehow. at the end of the day, the blame should be put on you since you were the one who allowed gaeul to make those advances towards you anyway… but you knew all too well that that wouldn’t stop your boyfriend from coming up with an excuse to try and confront your best friend.

but every time you dwelled on those thoughts, gaeul somehow notices it and keeps your eyes on her. she knew she would be able to pull your attention to something else and that she does rather effortlessly. and you knew that you would be safe, as long as you were with her.

you laugh at her words, “i’m glad that you didn’t fuck me just because i’m hot and you hate my boyfriend.” you joked, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

“no, stupid,” gaeul pulls you closer by your waist, kissing your nose. “i love you.”

[bleedingintogold]

(Don't mind me. Just dropping random OC lore without context. Currently on clone whump rot)

01 looked through the glass where 05 was. The youngest clone was sat almost comfortably on the examination table as the research and medical team around him poked and prodded at his skin. Several IV lines were connected to his body, either taking blood or pumping something else into it. There were electrodes on his temples and chest, monitoring vital signs.

01 had been afforded the dignity of boxers, all those years ago. 05 was given no such thing, covering himself with his hand as he stared blankly out the window, which was really too high to see anything but the sky. He wasn't the slightest bit fazed by these routine testings, yet the clone still grimaced when a new IV line was placed directly into the base of his neck, the medical officer doing the procedure holding his head firmly in place.

05's attention was caught by one of the officers as they explained something to him. The young man frowned before nodding, a gas mask placed on his mouth and nose before he was made to lie down on the table.

For a moment, 05 caught 01's eye through the one-way glass. 05 couldn't possibly see the older clone, but 01 could feel the gaze on him. It didn't last long as 05 lost consciousness within a few seconds, the gas mask removed in favour of a breathing tube down his throat.

01 left when the medical officers started to shave 05's hair. The sight of a tray of assorted sterile surgical equipment, including what 01 recognized as a drill and saw laid on it, being pushed into the room was enough to make his stomach turn.

-----

"Are they done with him?" asked 03, when he saw his elder enter their barracks. "No. They won't be for a while. Looks like they're putting a new chip in," "Why only him?" "His chip stopped sending signals during the past mission. You know how the higher ups hate to not be able to see what's going on in real time,"

What 01 did not mention, but was sure the other clones knew, was how unstable the committee believed 05 was. As though it was 05's fault that they had run out of raw DNA to clone him from and decided to use the genetic material from their previous sucessess instead. Them.

Clones made for the purpose of leading war according to their ideal. Made unable to disobey nor even consider to betray them.

Puppets with guns.

-----

05 groaned as he woke up. At least they had given him a blanket this time, even tucked him in. He passed his hand over his head, slightly upset at his shaved scalp before feeling the thick stitches at the base of his skull with his fingertip.

"How are you feeling, Alpha?"

05 hated that name more than his number. It ingrained that he was a test model, a draft. But its what everyone else but the other clones called him.

"My head hurts. May I get some painkillers?" "I apologize, Alpha. But you're not allowed to have any yet. I'll give you some as soon as I can," the officer said, almost respectfully if 05 didn't know any better.

He knew what they thought of him. If the older clones were their successes, 05 was barely a proper result. Soon they would make a 'Beta' or 'Gamma' and he would be thrown into a cryonetic tank, to be preserved like a fossil and used as fodder for the next generations. Alive but not at the same time. He dreaded that inevitable day.

"When will I be put back on the field?" "You'll stay here for the next week at least, so we can test that your chip works," "And my team?" "They will be deployed only when required under the command of your predecessors,"

05 watched as the medical officer prepared an IV. The officer held her hand out for 05 to offer his, cleaning the skin before sliding in a new IV in his wrist.

"This is for your nutrient supplement. You may feel hungry still, unfortunately. The best you can do is drink some water. No solid foods for 3 days," "I understand, "

05 thought she would leave right after that, so he had let his guard down, leaning back into the bed. He did not expect her to squeeze his already aching skull, her fingers digging painfully into his skin.

"Talk to me with more respect next time, Alpha. It's the least you can do in front of one of the people who made you," 05 grimaced, fighting off every trained and embedded instinct in him to subdue her. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't realize," he said instead, grimacing as a fingernail dug into the new stitches. "Good boy," The beep of the monitoring camera being turned back on was the last thing 05 heard before the door to his prison room was locked.

[amaranthineghost]

going to take a small break for a week or two. I'll still write during that time most likely and be active, but won't post any fics for the time being since I've been sort of consistently posting since november and I need a break to be a silly teenage girl.

not burnt out, but writing motivation is ↓ while i become an academic victim (except for math, my teacher can suck my balls).

also literally wrote like 1.6k words for the mini series before i decided i didnt like it so I'm starting over on that. hopefully my writing will improve while I try to get some motivation. it helps that its alow at work so i dont have many shifts, but dont expect anything for a little

(also doesn’t help ive reverted back to my slytherin fancast hyperfixation. theodore nott lorenzo zurzolo brain rot goes CRAZY)

and in advance, thanks for 600 followers, genuinely means so much!!! when i wrote my first imagine, it sat in my drafts for months and i wasn’t planning on posting it originally and when it even had just 250 notes, i was shocked 😭❤️

every 100 milestone means so much to me and i can’t wait to write more and improve as well

thanks for all the support <3

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I want to make more content for my big huge overarching story ive been building with all these characters, but writing hard, so im just going to hand over a rough draft WIP of the THH survivors about a week after the first danganronpa game, see if I get any interest.

While the door had been opened, the survivors of the killing game did not actually leave the school at first. While the power had gone off inside, there were still many supplies inside and walls to protect them from wind. So they spent their days gathering and making a list of supplies, storing nonperishables to be taken when they eventually had to leave, and prioritizing eating the perishables before they spoiled. Makoto could surprisingly make quite good curry with the ingredients left behind in the kitchen, though he was made to carefully ration the rice by Kyoko. Plus, the distraction of cooking helped distract Makoto from the near constant pain in his leg.

In the service of filling out his lists on every resource they had, Byakuya had already tracked down every sewing kit and tools kit that had been gathering dust in the dorms. Focusing on the sewing kit, he had declared he refused to let the others ruin his clothes in attempts of repairs and began to teach himself to sew. The rest had a feeling it was more of a need to do something with his hands though, as even his would sometimes shake from all that had transpired. They all found something to occupy their time.

It was all fine for the first week, all too busy focused on survival and planning to truly dwell on what had happened in these halls they now willingly took shelter in, but then Yasuhiro had a nightmare.

Bursting into the cafeteria they all still are in, Yasuhiro loudly declared to the others “I saw her!” 

While everyone sighed, Makoto gave a bit of a sheepish smile and asked “Who did you see?” 

“Sayaka! She was like, super mad!” Yasuhiro insisted, hands slamming on the table.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Byakuya sighed, “We don’t have time for this nonsense…”

“No! It was her ghost! I’m sure of it!” Yasuhiro protested, face serious, or well, serious by Yasuhiro standards, “She was like, super mad we left her to rot!”

Gasping and dropping her spoon, Aoi looked up in wide-eyed shock. “I totally forgot! The bodies must just be rotting now that the lab isn’t getting power! We need to do something!”

“Like what? Be reasonable, there's nothing we can do for them.” Byakuya complained, going back to his meal. “Besides, the trash disposal doesn’t work anymore, we can’t cremate them.”

Gasping in horror, Aoi brought her hands to her face “What?! That’s horrifying! I’d never do that to Sakura!”

“Cremation is simply one of the more efficient forms of body disposal!” Byakuya snapped back.

“M-master is right, a-as always. S-so if you really want to do something wi-with the bodies, y-you’ll just have to b-bury them. D-don’t expect me or master to h-help though!” Toko stuttered out, staring adoringly at Byakuya.

“I didn’t tell you you could speak.” Togami said with a sharp second of glare at Toko, Makoto knew better then to intervene, plus secretly, it could sometimes be a bit nice to have a few hours of break from Toko’s…fantasies. 

Putting her hand to her chin, Kyoko thought for a moment, “If it’s not getting power we may not even be able to retrieve the bodies… however there may be parts we can salvage from the science lab. It would be easier to look through it without the bodies in the way. Since it was Hagakure’s idea he can check to see if it can be opened.”

Yasuhiro startled at that, jumping with a small shriek. “You want me to go in there with the bodies?!” Clapping his hands in prayer, he murmured a nonsensical chant for safety and protection to multiple gods, some Makoto was pretty sure were not even real.

Staring deeply into Yasuhiro’s soul which made the clairvoyant shrink back, Makoto was pretty sure that Kyoko could be far scarier then any ghost if she wanted to be. They were all pretty lucky she was on their side. “Is there a problem with that?” She asked in that almost emotionless tone that allowed no argument.

As Yasuhiro babbled on looking for a way out of having to deal with bodies, Togami looked at him with that small cunning almost sadistic smirk that Makoto had long since grown used to. “Well, it’s not like he’s been doing much else in resource collection, he might as well make himself be of some use.”

[pxppinmolly-archived]

sb: dani you reply SO FAST omg

me, looking at the months old replies in my drafts: haha...! yeah...!

[buttercup--bee]

Heavy Heart to Carry

Summary: During an examination of a late professor, you find there is more to his death than meets the eye; not to mention a certain vigilante makes himself at home in your workspace. 

Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Female!Reader

Warnings: Graphic depictions of a dead body; Medical Examination; Death; Intense Fear; Allusions to Past Abuse; Minors DNI;

Main Masterlist ~ Series Masterlist ~ Ao3 ~ Playlist ~ Next

I do not give permission for any of my works or their included components to be copied, translated, and/or reposted, even with credit. 

Gotham devours its prey alive. 

A reminder lies before you; sunken, stiff, and pale. Glass eyes, doll-like, mouth parted wide open and on the verge of midnight blue. He whispered of distant stars and dust and empty requests. There, deep inside you, there was a mourning disposition that wished to have saved another soul. 

Despite your occupation, it was difficult to witness such horror on a dead man's face. Unnatural even. As if terror had ground his bones into crooked ornaments, nails long gone, bloodied fingers and fear stricken. 

The white sheet clothing the late professor seemed to match his skin - drowned his complexion in everlasting permanence. A creature of loss awaiting perfection for those to say their goodbyes. 

Eerie, sullen, that is what drafted off his person. Void of all humanity, only what made up flesh and bone. A material vestige that murmured impossibilities - sacrilege and cruelty. Jagged indents ran along the base of the skull, as if he had attempted to rip apart whatever left of him there was.

Glancing over at your tools, you part from the body, and survey his ID just beside your bone saw. Jarrick Linclon. Fifty-four, donor, born September fifteenth. He’d worked at Gotham University. Reports described his stellar records, his teachings of mathematics, and even an award amidst the scientific community. 

A man who’d left an imprint. Proverbial rocks slots itself in your throat - natural causes didn’t seem to be the answer. Not anymore, with his frame stilted and so very wrong. 

With a heavy sigh, you set forward. Slipping on your gloves, you ensure their security then remove the pallid sheet. Shifting the body upwards and sideways, you lay a heavy, silicone block beneath his back, and position him back over it. He stretches, exposed, and guarantees easy access.

Marking dotted lines from his breastplate to his torso to his abdomen, you cut with precision, practiced, a steady hand splitting him open. Little to no blood seeps out - nothing is left but remnants of what life he might have lived. 

You roll back his flesh; decay and rot pervade your senses, entwined about your lungs, airway knocked and blundered. You heave, unprepared despite yourself. You’ve never experienced something so wretched. It's an odor that befuddles you - no decomposition carries whatever this is - a year at work and you’ve never come across the scent.

It takes everything within you not to gag, let alone pinch your nose shut. 

More so, his heart has an odd tinge of white to it, crested at its veins. Chemical burn? No, all his organs would strain, there’d be signs of knit muscle crushing itself. This was a trauma induced response - perhaps his nervous system attacked itself? 

That doesn’t explain why his heart stopped first, not his brain.

Before you can delve in, let alone think about the odd situation, the door swings open, stealing your attention from the task at hand. Sizing up whoever came through, you conclude it's someone you know; someone you don’t hate. Thank God. 

“Ives.” Gordon’s grave expression spans about his weathered features, each crease and line a story of past threats and anxieties. It’d taken all but a week for you to conclude that he was a good man. Still is. 

Nodding his way, you idly tap your scalpel against the metallic table. He glances at the former professor, explicit surprise claiming him whole. Gordon must not have realized you’d be examining Mr. Lincoln tonight - you don’t think he’s ever seen you work. 

There are times he’s waltzed in asking questions, scanning over whatever poor sod ended up in your domain. As if there’d be an answer waiting for him, destined to be found. But never one that’s been cut open. Bits and pieces always reserved within jars and caskets or fresh from death. 

Gulping, he steps forward, maintaining eye contact in a desperate attempt to not witness a dead man's innards. 

You understood. During your academic studies, when application met memory, you’d nearly thrown up once you’d peeled open your first torso. It’s as vivid as the day it happened. It does well in keeping you calm nowadays, when your forearm deep, retrieving lungs and liver and stomach alike. 

“I wanted to evaluate the body one last time,” Gordon explains, “I hope you don’t mind us taking a look?” 

You shake your head, “Not at all.” 

“Thank you.” He amends, pacing forth with an arid confidence - not exactly soothing, but enough so that he could overlook the scene. 

Not even close to a minute passes when you realize, haphazardly, he’d said ‘us’. No one came in with him. No one that you saw, and you’re certain the laws of science still apply - even in Gotham. 

“He died of a heart attack.” A bodiless baritone hovers behind you, gravel crushed beneath a swell of suspicion. 

You near scream, heart thundering amidst the shallow thrum in your ears, clutching your scalpel as if it’d do well in protecting you against your surprise visitor, and stumble from your spot. In doing so, your ankle twirls, bends and - shit, you’re going to fall, a stampede of gravity bearing down on you -

Your upper arm throbs beneath an unknown duress, feet floundering to catch your balance, and you whip further in dysphoric confusion. Gently, you’re brought up to your full height before you can drop.

Another fist claims your free arm, keeping you upright - you huff, blinking once, twice - eyes meeting a gaze of burnt steel. Frost concealed under black ice. 

It occurs to you then, when you’ve caught your breath, who holds you. Who, in all of Gotham, is alleviating the stress of your symptoms by merely affording you stability. 

You’ve only heard stories. Those amidst the precinct huddle in coarse whispers of the Bat. The eccentric tales of his uncanny ability to solve any crime that even the best of Gotham’s detectives couldn’t; any act of violence mustered to its knees like a vice. The whispers of praise intertwined with those of harbored threats and what you’ve seen of Edward Nashton’s caustic violence online. 

This myth, this man, he is a shadow. It seeps from his stature as it might from Gotham’s cathedral itself, a cold midnight enveloped in mist; A vision tall and vast and sewn in kevlar. 

You gape openly, unable to move nor speak. A shiver trickles up your spine, abuzz at his fist, and God - he towers and creaks and you have to crane your head to meet his gaze. 

Gordon, despite the situation, is capable of using his voice, “Sorry, I should have warned you.” 

Said vigilante releases you, unbothered, and returns to the variable in question. The situation as a whole begins to catch up with you, a dark knight crowds your ‘office’ and thinks nothing of it. A precipice of disaster that whittles at your confidence. 

It’s one thing to hear about him, another entirely to be in his presence. It aches, your need to run. You’ve done nothing wrong, yet you’re unable to escape his blooming mythology and its place within Gotham. 

Just his appearance alone could and does strike fear inside of you. It dwindles when he doesn’t move, a stone black gargoyle awaiting his next task. Just under your plane of trepidation sits an awe filled curiosity. One that can’t be satiated - not with newfound undercurrents rippling away at you. Aggressive and choppy and flabbergasted.

What the hell was wrong with Gordon?

That man is a perpetrator and he knows you’ve been wanting to avoid this. A new commissioner has yet to be taken into account due to infighting, and as their fresh medical examiner, having only joined a month ago, you couldn’t risk a mistake. Especially not one as large as allowing a well-known vigilante in your place of work. 

Pushing aside your worries, for the Bat looked as if he could break you in two, you spin on your heel and prepare a speech. Detailing Gordon’s lack of forethought, his absence of consideration, maybe even sprinkle in an accusation of being dimwitted - only for your acute sense of realization to hit you head on.

The heart stopped first due to one specific cause: stress cardiomyopathy.

“Not just a heart attack,” both men glance at you while you press forward, dipping a hand into the man's sternum - with a not so well hidden gag on Gordons behalf, “his heart seized due to adrenaline induced palpitations; he literally died out of fear.”

Tracing where eggshell white clumps at each vein and artery, you note the simplistic nature of his body's attack. The real question to it all, was how this happened, and why there appeared to be an outlier source beyond a nervous system on the fritz.

Gordon eases towards his ‘partner’, asking if this might mean anything to him. You cough.

Seizing the opportunity, albeit softly, feeling all the smaller having him looking down on you again, and you ask, “Have you - uh - come across something like this?” 

Glacial eyes root themselves to your figure, spying for illusive or false intentions, only speaking up once Gordon knocks elbows with him and utters something along the lines of ‘trust’.

“Once,” his timbre is a pitfall, deep enough that it resonates throughout your chest, “by the docks; a drop dealer.” 

Timid, a waiver of confusion, and you begin, “Any similar affects or -”

“He’d gouged his eyes out and half his scalp was gone.” 

Gordon winces, folding his arms with an apprehensive nod. You could feel it, deep in your gut, this wasn’t random. It was by choice. Whether it was a new drug or toxin or gas - this substance was killing people. And it most certainly was man made. It had to be. 

Otherwise you’d have no explanation, and the possibility of it being mother nature at hand is far worse a thought than a murderer filling in on his delights. 

A nervous grind of muscle clenches at your abdomen, chest constricting as a million possibilities run through your mind. 

Could drops have a hand in this? Rumors had sparked not long ago of a new and improved formula. However, it’s never been confirmed. 

His pupils were abnormally dilated, though they were not swollen, nor was the tell-tale translucence and vague lavender present; drops stained, tainted, created blisters and rashes around the eyes. 

None of these traits were visible.

Scanning the professor's mouth, his jaw crumpled, you note something of interest just as your unwelcome guest exclaims, “There’s something in his throat.”

Lo and behold, upon pressing two of your fingers at his neck, you find there to be a solid object lodged within. It’s spherical, from what you can feel, and about the size of a plum. 

It all happens quicker than anticipated. You mark Mr. Lincoln’s pale throat, the two men scuffle and murmur, one far more intent on your every motion - his stance on the verge of a gait (recognition?) as Jarrick’s flesh splits open just so -

Heady exclamations intertwine with a low hiss, Gordon cursing in variables you can’t even begin to comprehend. A sizable plume of gas encroaches on your person, burrows at your eyes and slithers past your airway. Your lungs burn, acidic and sharp and enough to have you buckling to your knees. 

Wiping at your watering eyes, you scuttled across the floor to gain distance, the world itself seemingly fading into obscurity in your desperate attempt to cleanse yourself. You’re dizzy, fazed in that numbing sort of way.

“Pathetic.”

Every juncture, muscle, and limb clenches, a tidal wave methodically built, tempered in blood, swashes at your nerves. It digs fierce canines buried in your calves. Agony swells at your base, tears between cracked ribs and solemn tendons and the sinew tragedy of your heart. 

You know that voice. The intimacy of its every octave. It’s as if it's there - that monster of shine and wistful lies - stinking of brine and whiskey. 

God, you hate whiskey. 

“Disgusting.” 

Hot, fetid breath blows at your left cheek, then beyond. It’s everywhere at once. Behind you, in front, diagonal and above. A nightmare come to life. This had to be an illusion, something had to ha -

“I know where you are.”

Your eyes open, trepidation blanketing you alive as you are welcomed to a sight of true terror. 

A mass of dark intentions, each a sliver of its own temptations, glides towards you in a fruitful mask. One of ebony curls and coal burnt eyes, a kind smile and a deep olive complexion - a good man. 

From a mask grows a costume; tight fit jeans, light jackets, Rolex watches and cedarwood cologne. A wonderful ensemble with a direct goal. A simple one. The sort that fastens a young woman to ideologies that hurt. That grate and bite and fucking stab - 

“How long do you think,” he whispers, kneeling down to meet your shambled height, “it’ll take me to get to you?”

Adrenaline barrel rolls its way inside you, chest puffing, legs kicking, and begins a tremulous pathway to freedom. 

“No,” you shake your head, frantically pushing back with all the dexterity of an overgrown toddler, “no, you can’t -”

“I can.”

 You open your mouth to scream, but nothing comes out. 

Powerful arms pull you in, your back snapping against steel, and clasp your arms together in restraint. Struggling with all your might, you jut a leg out and manage to jab something - someone. Said figure groans, only for the one behind to tighten his grip.

“Breathe,” his voice is turmoil, a mix of past horrors and something present - a current attribute that fails to soothe you.

This time you manage a scream, his presence right before you. A monster, a demon, a beast of a man who only wished for the sadistic pleasures in life. 

He peers up at you beside your legs.

Coarse cloth smothers your mouth and nose, saccharine and damp to the touch. You heave, taking in a lung full, and it isn’t long until your vision stains black in your peripheral. Your muscles weigh a ton, careening you into a violent, sporadic fight;

“Breathe.”

It’s the last thing you hear before you fade into submission. 

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[trillian-anders]

suspect - iv

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, graphic descriptions of crime scenes, angst, slow burn

word count: 3k

description: au detective!bucky barnes x investigative journalist!reader;

still wet behind his ears, detective barnes is given his very first homicide case, a woman no one seems to care about had been murdered. it’s only when investigative journalist reader brings the small details to his attention that he realizes there’s a bigger problem. a serial killer no one was paying attention to.

When the police questioned you after your Mother’s death you just couldn’t remember. You were their only witness. And you couldn’t remember.

You’d been in your pajamas, eating cereal and watching cartoons. It was the middle of the day when your Mom answered the door. A man followed her in the house. You could hear them in the hallway. And then loud noises. You remember hearing your Mom scream. And then nothing. It was quiet.

And you were found days later with your Mom’s rotting corpse in the next room.

You shake it from your head.

“It’s not uncommon for you to blackout parts of your memory that are harmful,” Bucky sighs, “Especially as a child.” You traced the words in your notebook. It made you feel useless. Like you could have put the guy away maybe. The right guy. Because you know it’s not Fury. You know it entirely.

“I’ve been in therapy for years.” You explain, “Trying to uncover the memory, trying to work through it… it’s just gone.” He nods across from you, the plates empty, and check placed down between you. The exhaustion finally hits. And you’re tired.

“I should be getting the autopsy reports back in tomorrow.” He scrubs his face, “And then I’m sure I’ll have to report to Steve and get the go ahead to come to the group meeting.” With Rumlow, which gave you pause.

“You need to make sure he knows that these are all friends and family of murder victims.” Blunt and clear, Bucky looks at you from over his fingertips. “Rumlow… he can’t come into this group meeting and be an asshole to everyone.” A nod from him.

“I’ll have to talk to Steve about his behavior tonight too.” Crossing his arms and sitting back, “It was just unacceptable.” A nod as you both drift into silence. “Did you drive here?” You shake your head,

“I don’t live far.” As you both slip from the booth to walk outside.

“Let me drive you home.” He offers, tapping his fob, the headlights of his car flashing in front of you.

“It’s honestly like, two blocks.” You point with your hand in your pocket. He shrugs, tapping the fob again locking the car.

“We can walk then.” He was insistent and you honestly couldn’t blame him. You just didn’t want to make him feel inconvenienced about it. You knew this neighborhood, it was on the cusp of being in those bad parts of town, your apartment straddling the line. You could tell he was tired. Just in the way he walked beside you.

“You really didn’t have to.” You say, reaching the steps of your apartment building. You key in the code at the door and buzz in. He follows you inside.

“I do have to.” His voice raspy with fatigue, “It’s not safe out here, why do you even live here?” The cracked linoleum, the yellow fluorescent lights. You shrug, honestly you felt like maybe a nicer place wouldn’t feel right. You’d lived in places like this your entire life. Kicking your foot against the linoleum you look at him in the harsh light. The bags under his eyes.

“Convenient I guess.” He shrugs.

“Text me when you’re in your apartment,” Gesturing toward the elevator. “Let me know when you’re safe.” It warmed your heart a little bit, the concern. He smiles at you as the elevator doors shut, and keys tossed onto the kitchen counter, shoes kicked aside you collapse into your bed.

Thank you. You draft, I’ll see you tomorrow. Send.

See you then.

Bucky sighs, stepping from the apartment building and looking up the side, the various lit windows before trekking back to his car. Today was rough, but he had the feeling that tomorrow would be even worse.

The next day the precinct was buzzing with activity. A group at the front talking to a beat cop, arms crossed and somber. He met the eyes of one. A young man, eyes red and weepy, looking just as tired as Bucky felt. Walking back into the bullpen the normal workload seeming even heavier, everyone seemed to have three things to do and three more on the backburner. Rumlow in the back room was setting up a pin board with victim one and two. And a woman with short brown hair, arms crossed, sitting back on the conference table, watching him do it.

As he approached further, he could see the FBI badge on her hip. This must be her. The agent they’ve sent because they had to.

“Barnes.” Rumlow nods at him as he enters the room. “This is Agent Hill.” The woman stood from the desk, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“From the FBI.” She looks serious, like she has to be to survive in a world mostly ruled by men. Her handshake is firm. Bucky feels sorry that she had to put up with Rumlow without him as a buffer.

“Nice to meet you.” She gestures to the board Rumlow was still working on.

“Would you say this is accurate?” The two bodies photographed right below the pictures of both girls. Always that high school graduation picture, Cheryl’s one with her kids probably done at the mall. Bucky’s hand clenched around his coffee cup a little harder. Sighing, thinking briefly about how your Mom was once up on one of these boards.

It gave him a strange feeling he couldn’t quite cope with, so he tears his eyes away.

“Yeah,” A sip from his coffee cup, “That’s about right.” A long sigh. She nods,

“Have you talked to any of the girls on the street?” It pained Bucky to tell her yes,

“But they didn’t really want to talk to us.” Rumlow said as he pinned another picture up.

“They didn’t want to talk to you.” Bucky accused. Rumlow shot him a glare. Kind of like, how are you going to embarrass me like this? Something he’d for sure bring up later.

“Do we have any leads?” Agent Hill asked, exasperated, like she just walked into a giant mess. Bucky reasoned, she did. But then he remembered you, the diner last night.

“Yes.” He ignores the look from Rumlow. “An old police cruiser, one of the girls said she saw Cheryl get into a stripped old model police cruiser.” Agent Hill nods,

“Okay, so we will see which ones have gone to auction.” A shrug, “Go from there.”

Steve’s door was closed when Bucky approached it, a knock to enter. The ‘come in’ from behind the thick oak. Steve smiles at him sheepishly as Bucky opens the door, brushing the bagel crumbs off his shirt. Bucky notices how tired Steve looks, but not a hair out of place, the bags under his eyes show the fatigue.

“You doin’ alright?” Bucky asks, shutting the door and sinking down in the chair across from his friend. Steve sighs, running his hand through his hair. A bad habit he tried to keep himself from. Bucky watched him as he silently scolded himself for it and shook more sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah,” Gruff and unlike him usually, “Had a bit of an argument with Peg last night. She made me sleep on the couch.” Bucky barked a laugh, met with Steve’s glare.

“What did you do?” Steve rolled his eyes, “C’mon pal, I know you did something, Peg is a saint.” Steve gives him a tight smile,

“What do you want Buck?” A sigh, sinking further into the chair, Bucky looks around Steve’s office.

“Remember back in 2015 when you bought your Dad’s old cruiser?” Steve’s brow pulled together in confusion,

“Yeah, why?”

“Apparently our guy was driving one of them when he picked up Cheryl Hansen a few nights ago.” Steve sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat, thinking for a moment.

“An old police cruiser…” Shaking his head, “You’ll have to look through the old auction files,” A pause, “There were quite a few cars sent to auction.” On his fingers he counted, “I was gifted my Dad’s… I know Pierce took his old beat car, but so did a bunch of other higher ups.” A shrug, “A couple of the guys out there bought one for novelty, but I think about twenty went out for public auction.”

Bucky nods, “Okay, okay.” A tug on his lip, “We’re gonna pull the old files and see if we can start going around…” He looked across at his friend, “Is there any way you could get Rumlow assigned somewhere else?”

Steve laughed at that, “Already?” Sitting back in his chair, “I thought you would have at least stuck it out for the rest of the week.” Bucky rolled his eyes,

“The guy is a menace; I would get a girl to talk and here he would come and make some bullshit comment or stand too close.” A huff, “He’s holding me back.”

“He’s got more experience than you, Buck.” A half smirk, “And Pierce would have my head if I took him off, so I’m gonna have to say no. Anything else you want to ask?”

Bucky thought about you, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, “That reporter that was in here a couple days ago… no listen.” He holds his hand out as Steve sets his jaw. “I think she could really help.”

“Buck—”

“She runs this relief fund for families of the victims, and they meet up once a month,” Resting his hand on the desk, “One is happening today, just give me the okay to go out there and question some of the families.” Steve seemed to debate it for a moment before lacing his hands over his belly.

“Pierce said no reporters.” Firm.

“But it’s not to give her information, it’s to interview people familiar to the old case.” Steve debated it a moment more before shaking his head with a sigh.

“Fine, but no statements better show up in the paper tomorrow.” Bucky grinned at his friend, Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m serious Buck.”

“I know you are.” That grin of satisfaction not leaving his face. Steve laughed,

“Now get out of my office.”

…

Wanda seemed in brighter spirits today as she lay out the food. Pietro carrying in boxes with the foil dishes while you set up the chairs and tables. Softly music played in the background. Just something to fill the silence as Wanda unwrapped dishes of cookies and lit sterno under dishes served hot. She jokes with you and Pietro about some show she was watching last night. Something you couldn’t ever be bothered to watch yourself, but you humored her as she talked about the drama that had unfolded between two couples.

People start arriving staggered. The early ones help you finish setting up, the ones coming in later met with raucous greeting from old friends. A lot of them with kids of their own. A table set up with crafts to keep them busy while their parents mingle and chat. Spouses here to support. Friends and people struck by the cause.

While it was your favorite day of the month, it was also the most tiring. A non-stop stream of greetings and hugs, marveling at how some kids have grown, wondering aloud about activities for them for next month and seeing what they would like.

But the questions you received the most, the reason for your high anxiety about this whole day, was…

“Is he back?”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“What should we do?”

And you just didn’t have an answer. Not yet. Not today. Not so soon. Sophie didn’t show, but then again you didn’t expect her to. It was far too soon. And Christine’s family didn’t have much to do with her anyway.

You looked for him, Bucky. You found your head turning towards the door every time you heard someone come in or out. The disappointment clear in it being someone coming back in from a smoke break was alarming and you weren’t quite sure why you were feeling this way. A paper cup with your name written on in sharpie with lemonade in it held in hand you continued to make your rounds, unaware that he’d even arrived until he sought you out.

“Hey.” Breathy and it sent a pleasant chill down your spine. Rumlow standing in the doorway with a woman you didn’t recognize. Your eyes meet Bucky’s and you couldn’t help the smile.

“Hey.”

He was in plainclothes. Not the normal button down and tie he was usually wearing. But something soft. Something you could imagine sticking your nose into. Something you had to shake from your head almost immediately. Hands in his pockets he looks around.

“Good turn out.” You agree, trying to get over him in jeans and a t-shirt.

“We stay pretty consistent.” You smile, “Today has been a good day considering… So, what did the autopsy reports say?” You see Rumlow and the other woman break off into the crowd, no doubt to try to get any information. He sighs,

“Sexual assault…” Shaking his head, “But no DNA left… and the fingers are being taken while they’re still alive, both of them anyway.” A heavy sigh. “They found no ketamine in Christine’s system, but I’m thinking that maybe because it was his first kill he wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Yeah,” You take a sip of lemonade, “That’s probably it… what about the cars?”

“I’ve got the go ahead, we are having auction records pulled… we just need someone to talk now.” He looks around the room, “Someone has to know something.”

“You think maybe there’s another witness?” He shrugs,

“I mean it’s possible,” He licks his lips, “Do you think that girl you talked to would talk again?”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, “She wasn’t really comfortable even talking to me.” You watch him nod, “Do you want something to drink?” You lift your cup, he gives you a soft smile,

“Whaddya got?”

Wanda was over by the snack table, organizing and reorganizing. Getting rid of trays as they empty. You wished she would interact more, socialize and talk to people without the buffer of the table in between but this is what made her comfortable.

“Wanda.” She smiles softly and looks at the man beside you. “This is Detective Barnes.” The cracks there, as her smile slowly shifts into a frown and then back.

“Nice to meet you,” Holding out his hand for her to shake, which she doesn’t take. He nervously wipes it on his jeans.

“You’re going to stop him.” She says, voice shaking, “Right?” You set your cup down and step onto the other side of the table, gently placing your arms on hers.

“Wanda,” Her eyes focused on him, “Come on honey,” You look at Bucky whose face has pulled into sorrow. “I think you need a break.” Your eyes scan the crowd for Pietro, finding him flirting unabashedly with the woman who had entered with Bucky and Rumlow, sighing heavily, you gently begin to lead Wanda from the room.

“I’ll do everything I can.” Bucky’s voice firm with resolve from behind you. You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you bring Wanda into the back room, his eyes meeting yours and giving you a firm nod.

Maybe things would be different this time after all.

…

Bucky felt a guilt gnaw in his chest and he really looked around this room for the first time.

When he’d first entered, he’d been so focused on finding you. A happiness blooming in his chest as he watched you laugh with someone. A smile on your face as a little girl seemed to be telling you some animated story, amusing enough to make you full belly laugh twice before he began to make his way over to you. The luck of it being the girl parting with her father in tow as he reached you.

The flush in your cheeks just about did him in.

These people were happy, sure. As he looked around the room, he could see the smiles and cheeriness of those who have found solace in one another over such a deep rooted trauma. But there was a sadness there too.

For a moment he was proud of what you’d accomplished with this. Bringing all of these people together over what must have been your own guilt about your Mother’s death. What good had come out of it.

He couldn’t imagine, thinking about it, if his own Ma had been murdered. Let alone the brutality in those women’s last moments. The horror of it. It dried his mouth. It made his stomach churn and gave him the sudden urge to step outside and dial.

She picked up on the second ring, like she always did.

“Hi Ma.” Soft into the phone, like he was a little boy and just needed her at this moment.

“Jaime, what’s wrong?” Because she would immediately know. She would always immediately have known. He sighs,

“This new case I’m workin’ on…” He starts, “Just a little rough, I just needed to hear your voice.” She hums from the end of the line.

“Are you okay?” He rests his back against the brick of the building, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth, ripping at the dead skin there.

“I think I will be,” Scrubbing his face with his hand, “It’s just… someone’s lost their mother.” A swallow, “Just wanted to call and tell you that I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart.” It warmed his chest but made him ache at the same time. You were how old when you lost your Mom?

You never got to do this. You could never call her when you were feeling upset. You could never just pop in to go see her and she would never make your favorite food just to cheer you up.

Something sat raw and acidic in Bucky’s gut, something he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake until this guy was behind bars.

“Come see me when you can, okay?” His Ma’s voice, sweet and comforting. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the brick and fights back the tears of grief he feels for you.

“Okay.”

[t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o]

Untitled

Werewolf x Shawn

This is just a first part, I don’t know if I want to continue it. I had high hopes for this piece but it’s literally been sitting in my drafts for a year. Let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas for a title because I do not.

Warnings: blood, action, I don’t think there are any swear words.

Word Count: 1,930

The first time Shawn meets you, he’s 13 and he’s helping his mum in her home clinic. Karen is by the sink cleaning up after her latest patient.

“Grab my bag Shawn now!” She tells him before running out the door. He grabs her medical supplies and rushes after her. The sight before him almost making him throw up his pancakes from breakfast.

You’ve collapsed to your knees, covered in blood with a large wolf in front of you. You’re sobbing unintelligible words at his mother while she tries to console you. Her hands and eyes trained on the brown wolf in front of her. It’s chest barley moving as you hold onto it’s neck. Fingers threaded through brown fur, with it seeming to be consoling both of you.

[[MORE]]

“Y/N, where is Maki hurt?” Karen asks calmly, while you start hiccuping.

“H his chest. It got him in the chest.” She tells the doctor, sniffling and trying to take deep breaths.

“Shawn, go call her parents. Valarie and Michael, their number is on the fridge.” Karen tells her son, he stares before she says his name sternly. Causing him to rush off for the back steps again.

“Can you help me carry him into the house?” You nod numbly before holding his upper body while she grabs his lower half. Maki leting out a soft whine, before you shush him soothingly.

“Alright and up here, go and sit down sweetheart.” You shake your head, tears coming down your face again. Feeling the pain coursing through Maki as it filters through him. Your hands gripping his back leg, fingers pulling his pain away from him the best you can.

“They’re on their way.” Shawn mumbles as he comes back into the room.

“Grab the pain packs off the table, the dilaudid.” Karen tells her son, working quickly to get the wolf in front of her comfortable. He moves to grab the IV supplies and pain medications, before helping her hold his arm down.

“Shh Maki it’s okay.” You whisper sniffling quietly, he stills as they push the needle into his arm. Your head turning as you hear your parents car pulling up, both of them getting out. Their foot steps rushing up the stairs, before the door swings open.

“What happened?” Your mother asks as she comes over to her nephew, gasping at the pool of blood underneath him. You start crying harder, trying to keep your hands on him.

“Come here peanut.” Michael murmurs as he gently pulls you away, kissing your head.

“It’s okay, what happened?” He asks you softly, getting you into a chair against the wall.

“W we were running through the woods, chasing a butterfly. I I tripped and rolled down a bit before I slammed into someone. Maki came running down too and they ended up getting into a fight.” You explain hiccuping again, resting against his chest.

“He’s burning right through the pain medication.” Karen murmurs, trying to stitch your cousin up. Your mum helping to hold him down, pinning his hind legs. Tilting her head slightly as the smell of your blood fills her nose.

“Sweetheart you’re bleeding.” Michael says looking down at your ribcage. Before the only alpha in the room can say anything, the mated couple seeming to be on the same wave length.

“W what?” You murmur, confusion spreading through your features. His fingers moving across your sides to feel for injuries. Stopping when he gets to your left side under your sports bra and across your ribcage. Your dark green tank top torn and soaked in your own blood.

“Shawn, get bandages and apply pressure to her side.” Karen tell her son, while he stands in the background. Coming to terms with all of the wolves in the room. He looks over at you before rushing to grab the cloths.

“H here.” He stammers, watching as your father lifts your arm up to inspect your side.

“It might need stitches...it isn’t healing.” Michael murmurs to himself, brows furrowing as he presses the gauze pads to your sides.

“It’ll be okay...I’m Shawn.” The boy offers as he looks at you, trying to draw your attention from your cousin. Your bright amber eyes flick over to his face, fangs baring slightly as pain finally courses through you. Adrenaline having worn off, your hands beginning to shake in your lap.

“Y/N.” You murmur, feeling your dad’s fingers press into your side a little harder.

“That’s a pretty name, do you like butterflies?” You nod slightly and whimper quietly feeling Maki’s pain again. Your own mixing in, causing your eyes to shut as tears well on your waterline.

“Hey hey it’s okay!” Shawn begs, reaching for your bare knee and resting his fingers on it gently. You look down at his hand before your eyes meet again.

“He’s gonna be okay, my mum is the best.” He promises, rubbing his thumb against your knee cap gently. Looking over at the table and seeing both women bent over the large wolf. Quietly talking to each other, your mother’s hands never leaving Maki’s side.

~25 minutes later~

“When he shifts back I will dose him again with medicine.” Karen says as she and Valarie come out of the bedroom off to the left.

“Okay sweetheart, let me see your side?” Michael gently helps you up onto the cleaned table, Shawn tossing away dirty towels. watching carefully as he gets ready to grab pain medication for you.

“You’re going to need some stitches, this isn’t healing. What kind of wolves were they?” Karen asks as she gently lays you back, propping you with a pillow behind your spine.

Your body tilted as she stands behind you, your left arm above your head. Exposing your side to the warm air of the cabin, her gentle fingers inspecting you further.

“I’m okay mama.” You say as Valarie comes and kneels in front of you. Her hand resting on your forearm, nose brushing yours. Forehead resting against your cheek gently before she takes a deep breath in of your scent.

“You’re sure pup?” She whispers, you nod slightly before wincing when Karen starts cleaning off your wounds. Shawn’s stomach twisting, wanting to help but knowing he needs to stay out of the way.

“You’re such a strong pup...brought Maki all the way here. Did you carry him?” Your mom asks you, brushing your hair from your eyes. Her voice soft and gentle, a tone she only ever uses with her littlest and youngest pup.

“Had to drag him, he’s heavier than he looks.”

You reply, getting a quiet chuckle to leave her mouth. A smile matching your own gracing her face, your father even cracking a smile in the background.

“Yes he is, isn’t he?” Shawn smiles softly as he watches you both. Almost feeling the bond between alpha and wolf pup. His mother working quickly as she stitches you up. Making sure not to make any sudden moves or touches on your skin.

“What kind of wolves were they?” Valarie asks the question from earlier, able to hear how your heart has evened out. Body relaxing as much as it can, knowing your alpha is there to take care of you.

“I think alphas...maybe a beta. But they smelt weird...like dead leaves or rotting meat.” You mumble, wincing when Karen gets closer to your stomach. Shawn bites his lip as he watches, itching to touch you, just wanting to comfort. Valarie nodding her head slightly as she breathes deeply through her nose. Already planning her next move in her head, knowing she has to take care of it soon.

“I’ll be right back pup.” Valarie says quietly, kissing your head gently. Your eyes closing as you hear Shawn’s heart beat, his soft nutmeg scent filling your nose.

“Okay sweetheart you’re done.”

“Can I stay with Maki?” You murmur, drowsiness starting to take affect. Adrenaline completely leaving your system as you yawn into your hand slightly.

“We’ll make a cot up for you, and get some food in you.” Karen says gently helping you sit up, your mom coming back inside.

“My sweet pup, come on let’s get some food for you. Then Maki can see you when he wakes up, dad is with him right now.” Valarie says as she gently lifts you. Your arms and legs coiling around her neck and waist.

“Shawn, can you make her some eggs and toast please?” Karen asks, looking at her son as she cleans the table up. He nods a bit and goes to the kitchen, watching as both of your parents cuddle you.

“I put some cheese in them...I hope that’s okay.” Shawn says as he comes into the dim room, looking at your tired face. Color coming back to your cheeks as you rest against the wall your makeshift bed is against.

“I like cheese.” You respond nodding your head and taking the plate from him gratefully. Shawn looks over to see Maki has shifted back, a blanket pulled up to his stomach. The slashes across his chest almost matching yours.

“You’re pretty tough aren’t you?” Shawn asks looking back at you, while you raise a brow in questioning.

“I mean...to have been able to help your cousin like that. It’s really cool, I would never be able to do something like that.” He quickly adds on, nervousness making his heart jump slightly. You tilt your head towards him, leg moving so your ankle subconsciously touches his knee cap.

“Maki did most of it...I just got in the way.”

“But you got him to safety, and you saved his life. If you hadn’t of been with him, who knows what could have happened.” Shawn argues, you nod a bit and chew your food slowly. Your ankle not moving from his knee, your eyes slipping closed again.

“Thank you Shawn.” You murmur once you’ve finished the plate of eggs.

“You’re welcome Y/N.” He replies, taking your dishes before slowly leaving the room. You curl up on the cot next to your cousin’s bed, being mindful of your stitches. Before your eyes slowly drift closed, brain starting to shut down after the eventful day.

~2 weeks later~

“Dr. Karen?” You ask as you come into the cabin.

“Oh...hey my mum just went to get us lunch.” Shawn says as he comes out of a room, holding a baby raccoon. The critter drinking from a bottle, greedy sucks coming from his mouth.

“Oh...I’m sorry for barging in. My mum wanted me to bring these for you both as a thank you.” You say holding up the picnic basket full of baked goods. He nods a bit and steps over to take the basket. The raccoon chittering softly as it’s eyes land on you.

“Hi buddy.” You murmur gently scratching between his ears, the baby seeming to melt. Pushing up towards your hand, forgetting about the bottle full of formula.

“It took me four days to get him to let me touch him.” Shawn grumbles watching your fingers effortlessly run through the animals fur.

“My mama says I have the ‘touch’ with animals...and people.” You respond looking up at him with soft eyes. Shawn smiles softly as he scans over your face slightly.

“Yea...I can see that.” He tells you honestly, getting a quiet laugh to leave your mouth.

“Well I better get going...gotta train with Lyssa...I’ll see you later Shawn.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.” He watches as you leave with a final scratch under the raccoons chin. Before stepping out of the back door, letting the screen close behind you.

Taglist

@shawnm521 @justanothershawngirl @esoltis280 @nervousaroundmendes @yellowitsmendes @sinfulshawn @rosecth @song-bird-shawn @artemissravenclaw @planstonightbaby @dancingafterdeath @someoneunimportantxx

[fanfictionlive]

I just finished my fanfic and want to remind you to finish yours because its worth it

I dunno where to share my feelings so I guess I'll just rant here. If rant is the correct word.

Before this fanfic, I wrote a bunch more which was lengthier than this one. I wrote a lot. Just some drafts here and there, some unfinished concepts scattered about. Heck, I even published one messy Naruto semi-S.I before I realized it was absolute dung-beetle feed.

Rewriting that flaming hot trash heap is a whole different story altogether.

It was generally a whole mess of wish-fulfillment and things that I would find interesting if I put it into words. They were a mess but they were my mess, you know? Literally my children and I'm proud of them but I never really got the time to finish them.

And then, I began this fanfic in between late October to early November. Which was a hell of a few months with financial issues, family issues etc.

This time, I started fleshing out the characters into their own entity. I let my fingers transcribe what I wanted to happen, and my characters began writing themselves. It got so bad (if it was bad) that I had so many scenes that wasn't in the outline or even planned and lines that I wouldn't even dream of writing about even if I was staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night lying on my bed with a shower head shooting lukewarm water on my face.

Because we all know the time we get inspiration to write is when we can't.

Anyway, Not to be "that" guy who is constantly searching for sympathy but that was when my mental health took a dive.

I don't know if writing was therapeutic or anything. I don't know if it saved me or whatever. Its a whole cliche that I didn't even bother thinking about but just walking down the street from school, thinking about concepts and scenes and development in character relationships and smiling to myself like a junkie about to get his first hit in a week because I knew I could make it work and I was excited to make it work because it was a premade universe and my power hungry self wanted to see how much I can tamper with while making sure it made sense. There's this rush, starting from the spine, melting to your heart and suddenly it began tingling your brain. Never had sex but 10/10 its probably better than it.

I didn't spend every waking moment writing. I didn't have a movie moment where I just sat down and started crying and writing. I didn't have what you would call a "stroke of epiphany while channeling the want of escapism." Hell, I didn't even think I'm ever going to publish it even though I worked through nights, writing, editing, revising, drawing concept art, scrapping concept art.

It wasn't dramatic.

I just wrote.

And now, after thousands of scratch papers (usually drafts of my thesis) filled with drawings, sweat and candy wrappers around my desktop that got me scolded a bunch of times, 375 pages with 89,499 words clocked in after days of days of procrastination, but here I am, I finally completed a "novel" instead of letting it rot in the recesses of my desktop.

I dunno, I just wanted to share, maybe flex a little.

But guys, if your lurking about right now instead of writing, if your scrolling through Reddit or refreshing Youtube or waiting for drama to start on Twitter or even contemplating on dropping a story, I say don't.

Try to finish it. Its okay if you don't. After all, you are writing for yourself first and foremost. Your the one that gets the first slice of the cake you made and your the one that makes sure it comes up to your standards. Whether you buy each individual ingredients in separate days, you have got to make that cake because sis the idea, the passion, the inspiration is there and is waiting to be materialized in a docx file. Circumstances and situations happen but I have to say: the pay-off is bliss. Absolute bliss that is incomparable to any other feeling in the world.

ALSO IF YOU THINK THAT YOUR FANFIC IS BAD BECAUSE ITS A FANFIC, DONT. THERE ARE LITERALLY PUBLISHED NOVELS THAT ARE WORSE THAN THE SMUT YOU SEE IN AO3. AND IVE READ REALLY WELL-WRITTEN SMUT.

​

​

tl;dr: im currently having an orgasm because i finally got my life together and finished the first fanfic in a long series

submitted by /u/Devinouse [link] [comments] from FanFiction: Where Magical Ponies battle Imperial Titans http://bit.ly/2EjGMQR

[bubblellop]

Watermelon

[itain]

long.. complaint post essentially

id say rant but its less anger than just.. despair i guess

oh god i feel at this moment.... very hopeless

ive just kinda been frozen since i got home,,, talked some, ate dinner, etc... but there is so much i need to get done but i {feel i} cant do until i finish one thing in particular...... like so many rows stacked up in tetris that all get cleared with the one block that fits them all... i mean perhaps nobody thinks its that big a deal,,, idk......... i just feel like i cant breath... literally it feels like my chest is a bit tight just thinking of all this shit stressing me... like once i finally get one thing done turns out its not done and i had 10 more things to do as well... i feel that in the time it takes for me to take one step, i’m pushed back like 20 paces....

you know when you have so much stressing you that you play games or just fucking fill your mind with static to pretend nothing is wrong?? you waste time having fun while the stress just looms next to you all day every day?? thats like my usual state of being.... and here is the other end.. where things come crashing down, and im panicking, and im frozen because i can never solve things, i have to find an order in the chaos, and at this point everything immidiately turns negative and i wonder why im even alive rn... i like that ive written this much and still remained so vague.......... SIGH

uh lets see i mean its mostly all just financial shit

the biggest block rn is the fucking gym... gee am i getting so damn sick of this shit.... i am ready to sccream over this fucking gym...... ive been trying to quit almost since ive started... i FINALLY send the shit i need to on time..... and they didnt do it???? so i need to call them tomorrow asking why they havent drafted the quitting fee, and im sure theyll ask if i did the fucking secure mail where i get notified when they recieve it, and no i didnt bc i dont have money, and they will come up with some bullshit excuse reason why i cant quit still, and at that point ill want to scream and cry, i fucking wish that could solve my problem??? why cant i be like my dad who yells at the customer service people on the phone till they solve everything for free???? why cant i ask that of him now?? thoughts like these... who let me be an adult, how will i not get fucked out of shit because im a fucking pushover who just wants to please everyone and be polite.....

then lets see.......... the student loans..... the big issue with this... i mean 50 bucks a month starting in october... i mean we will fucking see if i have the money... considering im already drowning now, i fucking doubt, but my biggest concern is the logistics... what amount am i paying back? how do i know that its set up to draft out of my account??? questions i dont want to ask anyone because i’ll feel like a fucking idiot and i’ll just cry about it instead pls.... so i’ll just rot till october tyvm...

and what else... my biggest fear is the combination of these two, that i cant quit the gym and im paying like 75 fucking bucks a month for two things that have made my life nothing but hell...

but i think the other biggest stressor is the small shit adding up rn... for like 2+ months (i havent really counted but i know its been a long time now) my phone isnt working without a charger.... and to even get it replaced for a working model is like 75 bucks.. id buy some shit phone but thats 20 bucks that can be spent towards surviving... like, see above bills.... oh and id switch to an old phone of mine to even ask if thats possible would fucking cost money bc metro pcs wont answer shit without seeing money first ugh.. its made all communication and leisure time way more difficult as im chained to the wall and only a few short times a day for either.... so setting aside that, ill just fucking pray for that for christmas orz the other “small shit”...... oil needs to be changed on the car,,, means i have to find some time to buy oil, figure out what fucking oil to buy, where to buuy, if i have the money, etc... communicate with coworker friend and get a day we both have off so her friend?? can change my oil for me for free, bless.... but thats not even possible till i get back from my vacation.... so a week or two..... then we have the registration sticker that needs to be updated before september,,,, 80 to 85 bucks my dad said... that obv cant be updated with a code on my car so again, it has to wait a couple weeks... even driving with a code on my car gives me such anxiety...

so moving on to.... i guess the tiny shit that isnt as big problems but only have become such because im mega stressed..... thought i had finished the laundry... found another bag orz... apartment much more disorganized than i thought.. you know how order in the home gives a certain peace of mind.... and vise versa.... bf and i are fucking depressed and at least i want pills but that is a faraway dream rn, booking a fucking appointment, much less having $$ for a perscription????? trying to work out then losing motivation so quickly as always... but because i want to dedicate my energy towards cleaning this place... which just somehow never happens.... just never seeing a way to save money??? ive been so damn frugal and i still cant pay my bills and here i am with more bills, meanwhile my dad posting his stupid fucking bullshit on facebook about “choose happiness” like money doesnt have a fucking say in the matter.... and all the low self esteem and negative thoughts that accompany all this situation... wanting to “do something nice because ive been having a hard life/week” and then still feeling like shit, or feeling guilty for having spent anything then complaining about money...

i guess last thing i wanted to touch on..... the vacation... bfs mom takes me with them on their family vacations.... honestly i feel like the goth in the prep family? like im too much drama to make them happy.. ive been pretty open with her about my feelings towards my dad and stepmom, mostly bc she is super giving and nice and agrees with me against them.. and recently ive been more open, like about my depression even... and like... she even said she would get me a scrip... like....... i just.. this kind of thing, the vacations, the covering my half of rent, even while she doesnt have a job rn (she is rich but tighter on $$ now so) but i feel so guilty accepting it.. like if i justify it, then arent i being too greedy?? but i literally cant refuse it, or i’d be on the street right now so..... but i just feel like she owns me... if i were her daughter i think id be more okay but like... if john and i break up she put like, thousands into SOME CHICK.... i feel like in the far future i’ll need to write her a check too;; i told bf i wasnt rly feeling the vacation... of course because of the neverending drama surrounding me (yeah yeah im not saying drama is drawn to me, yeah i create it okay) this will just kinda strain more the relationship and they’ll all think i have some issue with them or smth that i gotta ruin every family trip... so i’ll just go.. but like... self esteem is out the window, so i wont want any pics.. i doubt bf will either, we both have gained so much weight, and i have perma acne that gets worse by the day, and i cant even afford to get my hair cut or colored again so its just this grown out mess.... then in the other respect of a vacation... i think ill just be worried the whole time about my finances... i mean i wont be able to spend money on anything so -shrugs- i get to just look at a bunch of nice things, thinking “i wish” or feel the guilt of her wanting to get it for me.... oh god yeah and same things w my friends.... i want to hang with them?? but i dont have money for shit??? and every time they pay for smth i die inside bc when will i even be able to pay them back its the same thing but theyre poor TT

anyways i guess thats most of it..... i guess im feeling tired maybe ill just pass out watching some youtube videos.... i was wanting to get a drawing done but ~*the cycle of feeling like shit*~ will occur worse then...