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superprincesspea · 6 months

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Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 14 - Secrets and Sapphires

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

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Maris’ anger had not diminished in your absence, and she was certainly glad of the thunderous scolding you received from your father.

His finger pointing, his voice booming so loudly you imagine half the keep can hear it.

Stupid, careless, girl.

He was right, you had been careless. You’d lost yourself in Aemond’s company and what could be more careless than that?

Except, that wasn’t why he was angry. You'd gone missing for hours and your mothers' cheeks were still stained with tears.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you mean it, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“You shouldn’t even let her join us in the hall tonight!” Maris pipes in when the shouting has dwindled down to a halt, her eyes narrowed and vengeful.

But her attempt at siding with your father is soon thwarted because Borros Baratheon doles out the punishments, not his daughters, and a fresh wave of anger washes over him.

“Quiet girl!” he snaps, before returning his attention back to you, his voice booming again, “you’ll get changed and you’ll do it quickly or so help me!”

You don't need to be told twice, and rush to your room, pulling a yellow gown from your armoire before thinking better of it.

Maris already thought you were trying to steal Aemond and, in her mind, yellow was the colour to do it in. So, you reach for the sapphire blue, making tonight its third outing of the summer and perhaps its final one too.

You’re still fiddling with the tiny buttons when Cassandra sneaks into your room with a pitying look.

She sits patiently on the bed, waiting for you to finish before picking up your brush and nudging you onto the stool next to your vanity.

“We can’t have you looking like this,” she says, her voice cheerful as she gently pulls the brush through all the knots which had formed in the rain.

Trying not to wince each time she hits a snag, you sit quietly, miserably , worrying the skirt of your dress and wishing your father had forced you to stay behind.

You're still shaken from the way his voice had boomed in your ears, and you’d rather curl up in a ball and cry, instead of facing an evening of polite conversation and Maris’ seemingly endless supply of anger.

“She’ll get over it,” Cassandra says, and you know she’s right but that doesn’t make it any easier. If you could skip forward to a place where Maris didn’t hate you, you would, but there was no quick fix, only time.

“And...” she begins, waiting for you to meet her eye in the mirror, “ I think we both know she never had a chance.”

Heart suddenly in your throat, you look at your hands, hoping to hide any of the thoughts which may have escaped onto your face.

But Cassandra doesn’t need any confirmation of what she already knows to be true.

“I do not believe I’ve ever seen Prince Aemond look at Maris the way he looks at you,” she says, and you stiffen, it was exactly what the Queen had said at the tourney.

“If you knew why , you would be ashamed to have me as your sister.”

You look up from your hands just in time to see Cassandra’s eyes widen with horror, the brush stopping its progress.

“Do not tell me you have given him your virtue?”

“No! ” you say quickly, surprised by her suggestion.

Though, for one brief moment, you can’t help but imagine what that would be like.

High Valyrian rolling from his tongue, long fingers wrapping around your waist instead of books. Would his kiss be gentle, hesitant even? Just a soft, momentary press of lips to test your willing.

Or would it be certain? Urgent? Would he push you up against the bookcases, hard and feverish, his lips devouring yours before finding the racing pulse at your neck, his hands moving from your waist, hitching up the skirts of your dress and-

Clearing your throat, you banish the thought away, but not quickly enough. Your cheeks are more than a little flushed when you admit, “I met him before we came to court.”

“Where ?”

“On the beach below the keep.”

She laughs, her brow knitted with confusion, “why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because I was alone… and I was…” you hold your tongue, could you really tell her the truth?

“I was swimming ,” you whisper, and it feels both cathartic and terrifying at the same time.

Cassandra’s fingers fall from your hair altogether and you dare not look at her in the mirror. Instead, you turn to meet her, face to face, your heart pounding harder than before, your palms slick with sickening nerves.

Yet, instead of shame you find anger, an emotion which barely ever registers on her face, and her voice is low, tense .

“Did he hurt you?” she demands in a hushed whisper which is no less powerful than your fathers bellowing.

“No ,” you gasp, knowing precisely what she is thinking as you reach to touch her arm and reassure her, “he only looked, but he has teased me about it all summer.”

She laughs then, relieved , her hands returning to your hair. “No wonder he looks at you like that .”

“Like what?”

“Like he is constantly on the brink of kissing you.”

Your cheeks flush yet again, but Cassandra’s tone hardens, scolding you. “You know you really should have told me this months ago. And Maris. How could she ever stand a chance when Prince Aemond had already fallen in love with you?”

“He loves tormenting me, nothing more.”

“If you say so,” Cassandra teases before shaking her head, “I still cannot believe you thought you could keep this a secret. Heavens, you can be so wilful sometimes.”

“But you’ll promise not to tell anyone?” you say, desperately, and by ‘anyone’, you mean Maris.

“We are sisters, your secrets are mine to keep, not to share,” she reassures, sliding the last pin into your hair and you relax, turning on the stool to hug her tightly.

It was strange, but despite all your torment, you hadn’t realised just how much you’d needed such comfort until her arms were wrapping around your shoulders and she was kissing the top of your head.

It was no secret that you and Cassandra had never been as close as you and Maris, who were like partners in crime compared to your perfect, angelic, older sister. But her embrace is so steadfast, that it seems impossible to imagine you could have any better friend or sister than her.

“You know...” she starts, as you pull away from the embrace, “we never did get to the bottom of who sent us these gowns...”

You look down at your dress, the sapphire bodice glimmering with gems, and she was right. After trying to thank Tyland Lannister, you hadn’t really wanted to think who could have bought them. Or why.

“Helaena told me that when Aemond lost his eye, they offered to replace it with gold,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “he chose a sapphire instead.”

“A sapphire?” you choke, picturing the way it might glitter beneath the patch across his eye. So beautiful, so radiant. Just like your gown.

Then you think of the times you’d wore the dress in front of him and feel as though you might be sick. From nerves, from anger, from the sheer audacity of the knowing smiles you’d seen on his face each time.

Were you really wearing something he’d picked out?

You didn’t want to believe it, but who else could afford such a thing?

Who else would choose this exact shade of sapphire blue?

Hurrying towards your armoire, you reach for the yellow gown once again but it's too late. Your father's voice is booming into your room and it's time to leave, whether you’re ready or not.

Cursing the entire situation, you trail behind your family all the way to the hall, wondering how long it would take them to notice if you decided to slip away. If you hadn’t gone missing this afternoon, you would chance it, but you’re not sure you can withstand any more of your father's anger.

Instead, you think, so what if Aemond chose your dress? It didn’t mean anything .

Except, you can’t even hold that lie in your brain for more than a moment before it falls apart. Because it did mean something. Everything he’d done meant something .

He’d met you on the beach in spring and thought of you often enough to invite you here for summer, to choose the books on your nightstand, and purchase the most beautiful gown you’d ever seen, for no other purpose than to see you standing in a room wearing the exact shade of his eye.

Yet, the same man who’d done all those things, had also stolen more than one look at your naked body, threatened all your suitors, toyed with Maris, told everyone you couldn’t dance, embarrassed you in front of his mother, and killed Ser Glover in cold blood.

He was impulsive, arrogant and completely ignorant to anyone’s feelings but his own. You still hated him, a few hours in the library couldn’t change that.

You could only pray that he would not be in the hall tonight because hating him and facing him were too very different things.

Yet there he was. Across the room. A dark line of fine black leather, his eye meeting with yours, holding all your attention before it slowly sinks to your dress.

The slightest twitch of a smile quivers at his lips, and you know, beyond any doubt, that he was the mysterious secret admirer who’d sent three gowns to the Baratheon sisters. One pink, one lilac and one sapphire blue.

You swallow hard and he begins to move, abandoning the people he was in conversation with, his usual cocky gait carrying him quickly across the room and, more importantly, directly towards you.

He’s already made it halfway before you jump into action.

Seven hells!

What was he thinking?

He was Aemond Targaryen. When he walked, people watched.

Maris watched.

He couldn’t just walk right up to you like this. He wasn’t the kind of man who walked right up to anyone- unless he was threatening them.

Breaking away from your family, you skirt around the edge of the room, and he changes direction. Another smile twitching at his lips, as though he’s enjoying the chase. But you’re not going far, just far enough so Maris cannot see past the crowds.

You wait for Aemond by a thick stone column and, when he’s close enough, you push him behind it, so you can be hidden from all the prying eyes that might be watching.

“We can find more privacy than this if you wish to have me alone, issa jorrāelagon,” he says, a devilish smirk now filling his cheeks entirely.

You sigh sharply, “that is the last thing I want!”

“Are you certain?” his gaze scrapes down, to where the tips of your fingers are still pressed against his chest, “then why are you pinning me against a wall?”

Embarrassed , you snatch your hands away, knotting them behind your back, your heart thumping as he laughs, enjoying every ounce of your torment as per usual.

Then you let out an exasperated sigh, wondering, yet again, how you’d spent so many hours with this man.

“You cannot just walk right up to me in front of the entire room,” you warn and, though a small frown creases into his brow, amusement still holds sway over his face.

“How else am I to ask you to dance?”

“You cannot!” you exclaim tartly, appalled to think that was what he was planning on doing. “You cannot even speak to me in front of them. I forbid it .”

“You forbid your prince?”

“Yes , Maris hates me enough as it is and, if you consider yourself my friend , you will do no more harm between us.”

At that, you try to leave, feeling you have already spent far too long with the most conspicuous man in the room, but his hand slides to your waist, holding you still.

“Do you consider yourself my friend?” he asks, and you cannot think of anything more dangerous than friendship with a dragon, but you’d say anything to placate him.

“We can be friends if you stay away from me.”

He snorts, “that's a strange recipe for friendship, would you not say?”

“Not if the friendship is already strange,” you retort before pulling away from his grasp and heading straight towards your family, only to be intercepted by Lord Boremund before you can even make it five paces.

“Little cousin,” he says, taking your hand, “please allow me the honour of your first dance this evening.”

You accept, glad to be away from Maris for as long as possible and surprised when Ser Robin asks for your next dance, then Lord Thorne for your third.

It seemed Aemond had not only allowed Tyland Lannister to resume the pursuit of your hand, but half of court too. Yet, like Tyland Lannister, it only made these men seem both spineless and fickle.

Were they all afraid of a dragon?

So, instead of feeling pleased to be dancing with them, you find yourself feeling increasingly annoyed, and you’re not the only one.

Throughout every turn you make around the floor, you see Aemond pacing the edges like a caged animal and three dances is all it takes before he breaks.

He strides fast, unconcerned by the movement swirling to avoid him, and you watch his every step with both heart pounding surprise and gut-wrenching exasperation, as he sweeps into Lord Thorne’s place and steals your hand without a single word to the other man.

“What are you doing?” You hiss under your breath, extremely conscious of the scene he is creating.

“It seems I cannot be your friend, ” he retorts, but you hardly hear him, you’re too busy looking around. Pleased to see that people are not pointing or staring, and the dance is continuing as though nothing is amiss.

It’s only Lord Thorne who looks out of place, his cheeks flushed with anger, his steps faltering as he tries to move around the other couples.

At this point, you think it might actually draw more attention if you stop dancing, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about the situation. You’re so mad at Aemond, you could stamp on his stupid foot.

“You could have at least waited for the next dance,” you scold, knowing you would have rejected his offer, if he had actually asked.

“I want all your dances, including this one,” he says, leading you into a turn and when you’re facing him again, you glare, ensuring he knows that, despite your current actions, you’re still very much annoyed.

“And you think nothing of what I want?” you say. It was not half an hour since you’d told him not to speak with you, let alone dance with you. Yet here you were, in his arms.

“Would you rather dance with them instead of me ?”

Words stick on your tongue, and you're glad for another turn, so you can think of an answer, because you can’t exactly tell him ‘no’ .

You wouldn’t rather dance with them.

Lord Boremund was your cousin, Ser Robin was far too tall, and Lord Thorne was perfectly fine and perfectly handsome, except his touch did not set your skin ablaze as Aemond’s did.

You face him again, and you must say something, so you think of propriety and all the rules which had been drummed into your head since you were old enough to walk. “As an unmarried lady, I shall not be obliged to give special treatment to anyone, even his grace.”

“Then marry me.”

What?

You’re so surprised, you can’t help but laugh, your mind spinning, your cheeks heating beyond reason. “ Be serious, ” you say, almost choking on the words as they splutter from your lips.

“I am,” he replies with a low voice, and he isn’t joking. He’s waiting, wanting, but you cannot possibly give him the answer he craves.

You cannot even speak as he draws you in, holding you far closer than any man should in a room full of people. One hand on your lower back, the other brushing the length of your arm before he curls his fingers into yours.

If there had been butterflies in the library, there are dragons now. Hatching carelessly in the pit of your stomach. Hot and dangerous, long wings reaching to the very tips of your toes until you feel flimsy in his sturdy embrace.

You open your mouth, but there are no words, and what’s left is far worse than any words could ever be. You hate the sound which pants breathlessly from your lips, soft, submissive , welcoming his advances wholeheartedly.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were enjoying this. But you’re not. You don’t want him. Not as a friend, not as a husband.

Yet your eyes still graze his lips, and you find yourself wondering, for the second time in a single evening, what it would be like to be kissed by him.

"Marry me, Lady Baratheon,” he says again, and you both miss a step in the dance, almost colliding with another couple, before you regain control of your senses and wedge your free hand between your chest and his.

Gods. You cannot meet his eye.

“You do not dance well enough for me to condemn myself to marriage,” you whisper, your voice strained, before you force another laugh to break the tension.

If he’s disappointed, he doesn’t show it, his tone is still light, playful even. “Is it marriage you disapprove of, or your prince?”

You breathe out another shaky breath, but your voice is a little stronger when you say, “I do not disapprove of marriage. ” Only dragons.

Aemond’s huff of amusement is light, meant only for your ears, and you’re grateful when the dance requires you to break from his arms and weave between the other partners.

Inhaling a lung full of air, you’re certain not to let him reel you in again. Instead, you hold yourself rigid, your palm pressed against his chest to prevent any further encroachment into the battlements you’re trying desperately to defend.

“Now behave yourself or I shall be forced to return to my room, for yet another evening,” you warn, daring to meet his eye.

“Good ,” he smiles triumphantly, seeming to enjoy the way you’re struggling to hold him at bay, “I shall meet you there.”

“With the guard outside the door?” you say hotly, imagining the look on Ser Maurin’s face if Aemond tried to waltz into your room without a chaperone.

He leans in harder, forcing your arm to cave against his strength, “I shall climb in through the window.”

When you turn again, you jab his rib, not too hard but hard enough to make him wince and remind him how difficult climbing would be with such an injury, “I think not , and in any case, I shall bolt it to be certain.”

He chuckles and, though you’re not looking at him, you can picture just how smug his smile must be as he says, “you imagine a bolt across a window could stop me?”

“No ,” you glance back to meet his eye, “but I’d hope his grace would not force himself into someone’s company if they had asked him to stop .”

The music finishes before he can reply, and all the other couples break away with bows and curtsies to find someone new.

But not you and Aemond. Aemond wants all your dances, and he does not relinquish control of your hand despite your efforts. He holds it tight, possessive, and you can feel as people begin to stare.

“I shall scream if you do not let me go this instant,” you hiss under your breath, trying to remain composed.

His jaw tightens, frustration seeming to cling to every muscle in his body just as he loosens his grip, sliding his hand behind his back so his stance is as formal as it is unyielding.

When you turn to leave, you notice Maris who’s been staring at the whole scene with daggers instead of eyes.

“If you truly care about me at all,” you begin, purposely avoiding his gaze, “you will ask someone else to dance this instant or I fear Maris will never forgive me.”

Aemond snorts, “when you are here and she is in Storms End, it will not matter what she thinks.”

“It matters to me!” you say, a little too loudly, but you’re so painfully annoyed with him that you can hardly be expected to contain your temper, “not that you seem to think of anything but your own selfish desires.”

When you walk away, you feel him step to follow before he hesitates and turns on his heel to walk in the opposite direction.

Not that you dare to look back or feel any relief that he has not followed you, you’re too anxious for that.

Instead, you make it to where your sisters are standing with Belis, and Maris laughs as she says, “it seems Prince Aemond is pitying all the wallflowers with a dance this evening.”

Then you do look at him and, just as you’d asked, he’s escorting another to the floor. Lady Staunten, who’d not danced all summer and seemed more terrified than pleased to be in his company.

“Shall we take a turn of the room?” Cassandra offers with a warm smile and you’re grateful for another opportunity to leave Maris’ bad mood behind.

“Did you ask him about the dress?” she says, when you are far enough away from the others and, quite honestly, you’d forgotten about the dress altogether.

But you don’t say that, or anything, you’re too distracted, craning your neck to watch Aemond as he moves methodically across the floor, as though the dance holds no joy, only steps.

Did he really just ask you to marry him?

It was such a surprise, it felt like you could have imagined the whole thing. In fact, you wish you had imagined it. Then you wouldn’t have to think about it, and you were quite certain you could think of little else.

It wasn’t every day a man asked you such a question- o r ever. But you couldn’t be entirely sure of Aemond’s motives. Did he truly want marriage and all that it entailed, or was it just another hot-headed impulse?

Though you suppose none of that really mattered, since there were no circumstances in which you would agree to be his wife. Even if he wasn’t the most arrogant man in the world, he was still a Targaryen, and they were a strange family with even stranger proclivities.

Yet, by the time you’ve walked an entire circle of the room, he’s asking another wallflower to dance, and you feel the unmistakable claw of envy, scratching at your skin.

You turn away, wanting to forget about him but there was really no forgetting Aemond Targaryen.

There wasn’t even safety in the bosom of your family. There was Alicent, talking to your mother with a coy smile and, for one heart stopping moment, you wonder if she knows . If they both know.

Because marriage would not be a choice if your mother was involved. There would be no question about it, you’d be given to the crown without a single thought for your wishes, and that would be that .

“Ah, Lady Baratheon,” Alicent says, noticing the way you’re lingering in her periphery.

You curtsy politely, heart pounding as she waves her hand to beckon you closer.

“We were just discussing how pleasant it would be to enjoy the last days of summer with a picnic in the Kingswood. Do you ride?”

“Yes ." You even enjoyed it under usual circumstances.

"Good,” she laughs, the curls in her hair bouncing with the movement, “there is not much room in the wheelhouse for so many ladies and the fresh air will give you vigour.”

You start, thinking your mother might have something to say about the suggestion but she’s nodding along with the Queen. “You mean for me to ride all the way to the Kingswood?” you confirm, thinking it an unlikely ask for a high borne lady.

“I’m sure one of the men will keep you company,” Alicent says as though it's the most natural thing in the world. But what she means is, Aemond will keep you company .

Without thinking, you turn to look at him, annoyed that you cannot seem to retain autonomy over your own gaze, which seems intent to seek him out despite your wishes.

When you turn back to look at Alicent, her smile reminds you so much of her son that you almost tell her to hell with the Kingswood and to hell with Aemond. But you’re sure your mother would have some choice words if you humiliated her in front of the Queen.

So, you return her smile, thanking The Seven that Alicent has no idea her son just asked you to marry him. But she’s expecting it, you can see it on her face.

What had Aemond said in the library?

That she would finally think he was consenting to giving her a grandchild. Well, you aren’t consenting. As far as you were concerned, you had two older sisters and it was only proper that they should marry first.

~~~

Thank you for reading!

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

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section-chief-prentiss · 2 months

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loml

Summary: Almost a year after Aaron and Jack enter witness protection, Emily spots them while on a case in Wisconsin.

AU that takes place sometime during season 12.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Aaron Hotchner

Word Count: 1980

TWs: blood, suicide, death

Ao3

“Tara and Alvez, take the front. JJ and I will go around back,” Emily said.

The team dispersed, careful to keep themselves concealed as much as possible under the cloudy, Wisconsin spring sky. The agents surrounding the isolated cabin where, if their profile was right, Patrick Winters was hiding, the 42-year-old UnSub who, in the past month, had kidnapped and murdered over a dozen women. The team hadn’t yet located all of the bodies, but Emily was determined.

They needed Winters alive.

While Alvez announced the FBI’s arrival at the front door, JJ and Emily snuck in through the back, guns raised.

A gunshot sent off a frenzy. From both entrances, FBI agents flooded the house. JJ and Emily cleared the kitchen and small bathroom before hearing, “Prentiss!”

They rushed into the living room to find Patrick Winters, gun in hand, lying on top of a growing pool of blood, a single shot to the side of his head.

“Damnit,” Emily cursed, stowing her gun. “Clear the rest of the house.”

The only remaining room was the cabin’s one bedroom, which the agents cleared quickly.

“There are no bodies here,” JJ reported, rejoining Emily and holstering her weapon. “There are still four women we haven’t found…”

“I know.”

JJ winced at Emily’s tone, and the Unit Chief sighed in response. “Jayje, I’m sorry. I just don’t—”

“I know,” JJ said. “I hate it, too.”

The team jumped in to help the local police secure the crime scene, but Emily stepped away for some much-needed air. On her way out of the house, she passed Rossi and Reid speaking with the police chief, who looked at her with unspoken questions in their eyes, but she didn’t pause until she was next to one of the team’s SUVs. Alone.

When she was sure no one could see her, Emily leaned against the car, pressing her palms into her eyes. What was she doing? Snapping at her team? Breaking down at crime scenes? She wasn’t being the leader her team needed. The leader Hotch had always been.

It had been 11 months and 2 days since Aaron and Jack Hotchner went into WITSEC to protect themselves from Mr. Scratch.

Not that Emily was keeping track.

11 months and 2 days since Emily found out she was never going to get a chance to tell Aaron how she felt about him after all these years.

She always thought she had time. That she could wait until she was sure he returned her feelings.

Until Peter Lewis surfaced at one of Jack’s soccer games, and Emily never saw Aaron again.

She was grateful he’d done it—that he’d protected himself and his son. She wouldn’t have to worry about them being in danger anymore. But damn, if she didn’t miss him every day since.

Emily turned back toward the house, and her heart skipped a beat as a dark-haired agent approached the front door. He was tall, like Hotch, and wore a white button-down under his bulletproof vest. She found herself taking a step toward him instinctively.

But when the man turned to speak with Rossi in the doorway, the light revealed the truth she’d known deep down—this wasn’t Hotch. It was just another agent.

“Get it together, Em,” she whispered, turning away from the crime scene.

With the one-year mark approaching, Aaron was fresh on Emily’s mind. She was sure she saw him everywhere—the movies, her favorite restaurants, even at the BAU. But as soon as she’d blink, the illusion would be gone.

For the Hotchners’ security, the team wasn’t allowed to know where Aaron and Jack were living. But every time a case took them to a different state, Emily couldn’t help but keep an eye out, wondering if they were somewhere nearby. Living the normal lives they so deserved.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when she was alone, she found herself wishing she was with them.

“You okay?”

Spencer’s voice caused Emily to jump, and one hand flew to her holster out of habit.

“Sorry, it’s just me,” Spencer said, raising his arms.

Emily blew out a breath and put her hand down.

“I’m fine, just a long case.”

“Chief Rogers asked if we could stay until tomorrow, try and help them tie up the loose ends of the case.”

Before Spencer was finished speaking, Emily was already nodding. “Of course.”

“I’ll let him know.”

As Reid headed back toward the house, JJ made her way toward the SUV.

“The local police said they can take it from here for tonight,” JJ reported. “I know this case has taken a toll. I was thinking, since we’re staying another night, maybe we pick up some wine and food on the way back to the hotel? Have a girl’s night? I already asked Tara, and she’s in.”

Emily smiled. “That sounds perfect. I can grab the wine, if you two want to pick up dinner somewhere, and we’ll meet back at the hotel?”

“I can come with you,” JJ offered.

Emily shook her head. “That’s alright. I need a minute alone before I’ll be fun to be around. Can you let the rest of the team know?”

“Of course. See you soon,” JJ said.

Emily fished the car keys out of her pocket, grateful for the excuse to leave without talking to anyone else. She searched for the nearest grocery store in this small Wisconsin town and found only one, but it was just a few minutes away.

Emily drove in silence, relishing this brief reprieve.

The Pick ‘n Save parking lot was emptier than she expected, until she remembered where she was. This wasn’t D.C., where she dreaded going to her local grocery store because there was never anywhere to park. It made her grateful to be on the road as often as she was.

She left her Kevlar vest in the car and tucked her gun into the glovebox before heading inside and beelining to the alcohol section. Briefly, she lingered near the tequila, debating if she should bring something stronger. But they had work to do in the morning, and wine was risky enough.

She ended up with two bottles—Tara’s favorite red, and JJ’s favorite white. She glanced at the bottles in her basket, wondering if she should grab anything else. On her way to check out, the snack aisle caught her attention, and she knew that bringing JJ a bag of Cheetos would make for a great peace offering after her outburst earlier.

Emily took one step down the aisle when a flash of dark hair halted her in her tracks.

She stepped out of the aisle, closed her eyes, and counted to ten.

It’s not him, she told herself. You’re just tired and stressed.

But when she peeked around the corner again, the image hadn’t changed. A dark-haired man in a blue polo and slacks stood with an unmistakable smile on his face as he looked down at the little boy with sandy blond hair at his side. The boy who had grown so much since she’d seen him almost a year ago.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But it couldn’t be.

They were at the far end of the aisle—far enough away that this could still be her mind playing tricks on her. But she couldn’t leave here unless she was sure.

Retracing her steps, she headed down the next aisle, walking as calmly as she could to the end. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to move slowly.

She stopped at the end of her aisle, pretending to be immersed in the selection of cereals, listening as closely as she could.

“Buddy, we can’t get Doritos and Cheetos; you have to choose one.”

“But I want both!”

It took all of Emily’s strength not to drop her basket and shatter the wine bottles inside it. She knew those voices as well as she knew her own.

Aaron. Jack.

“How about this? We’ll get one this time, and we can get the other next time. So which do you want today?”

“Umm… Cheetos! No, Doritos!”

There was rustling as one of them grabbed the chosen bag.

“Alright, what’s next on the list?”

“Cereal!”

Emily’s blood ran cold. For their protection, she knew she couldn’t interact with them. And that was more important than anything.

But if she lingered here for just another minute… she’d get to see them. Maybe for the last time.

In the end, her training took over, and she jogged into the next aisle over. She knew she shouldn’t linger, so she retraced her steps to the opposite end, speed walking past the cereal aisle, not even daring to risk a glance in the boys’ direction, before turning down the chip aisle.

Emily stopped in front of the Doritos and Cheetos, feeling odd knowing that Aaron and Jack had stood here just moments before.

But every moment that she lingered she knew risked them crossing paths. So she picked up a bag of puffy Cheetos and tossed it into her basket with the wine. She was about to turn away when a voice froze her in place.

“Okay, I’ll grab the Cheetos instead, but this is the last time you can change your mind!”

Emily knew she should leave, but her feet wouldn’t budge. Leaving her to watch, frozen, as Aaron Hotchner walked into her field of vision. Watch as he staggered back a step when their eyes locked.

Emily sucked in a breath and held it, as if doing so would keep her in this moment longer.

I miss you, she thought as hard as she could in his direction.

His eyes softened, and he nodded once, as if saying that he understood.

He glanced down at the basket in her hand, unable to fight back a smile when he saw the chips she’d chosen.

He raised an eyebrow at her. JJ? She imagined he was asking.

She cracked a smile and nodded.

“Dad, what’s taking so long?”

Jack’s voice snapped them both into motion. Aaron quickly put the Nacho Cheese Doritos back on their shelf, substituting them for a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.

“Be right there,” he called to his son.

Aaron glanced over his shoulder to wink at Emily before disappearing once more. As if he’d never been there at all.

Emily felt like she was moving through water—each step slow, her breath difficult to control. She picked up the bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos that Aaron had put back and threw them in her basket, unsure why she did it. She hated that flavor. But as she made her way to the checkout, she realized—she wanted something that he had touched. It was as close as she would ever get to touching him.

Emily’s hands shook the entire drive back to the hotel. She mindlessly carried her things to her hotel room, where JJ and Tara were already waiting with boxes of Chinese food.

JJ frowned upon seeing the expression on Emily’s face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Emily said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just a long line at the grocery store.”

Emily showed off her purchases, and JJ’s face lit up at the sight of the Cheetos, not paying attention to the second bag of chips Emily had.

But nothing slipped Tara’s notice. She tilted her head in confusion. “I thought you didn’t like that flavor.”

All Emily wanted to do was tell them what she saw. But even though it broke her heart further, she knew this would have to remain a secret.

“There was a sale,” Emily shrugged. “Thought I’d try something different.”

That was all her friends needed to hear. They cracked open the first bottle of wine, and by the time Emily poured her third glass, she’d forgotten the memory she was so desperately trying to numb.

Tag List:

@yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom, @tireddeadgirl, @lez-talk1, @emilyprentiss-ily, @ssablackbird

Join my tag list!

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #angst #hotchniss

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ratwife77 · 4 months

Text

video game concepts/headcanons

very long post

if i continue w/ this, each character will get a link to start the "game" which would be a choose your own adventure

but it'd take forever because I'd have to script interactions and junk plus potentially making a soc version, then maybe collaborate with someone to get the Shepard stuff done (I know nothing about them and don't want to butcher their characters)

Recommended that you grab a piece of paper to calculate money, happiness, relationship points, etc. You may also get a spinner for chance if you’d rather not select (some decisions will be labeled, some will be numbered so it’s just chance either way) Recommended for free play (fighting): Dally. Recommended for free play (quests and playtime): Darry- warning, very difficult. Not recommended: Steve (due to his lack of ‘screen time’, I have less of a grasp on his character and could not be as in depth and remain faithful to his character) First of all, choose your path: Greaser edition

Benefits: you have tuff hair

Choose a greaser:

Dallas

Benefits: he has fought a lot, and you may use the ability to see an opponent’s weakness(es) if you are calm enough (number of times this is able to be done is based on difficulty). He may be able to bluff his way out of a fight (can be done with or without gone, more or less likely with gun depending on the opponent)- impossible on hard difficulty. Drawbacks: has many enemies, you will be attacked OFTEN. Rare chance for you to be taken to detention center for someone else’s crime because of your record. You have a meter that shows your level of anger (occasionally glitches to see sadness/other emotions bar underneath), that can be used for upgrades (not purchased by cash) or if it gets too high you die (like the end of the actual book..) Extra: you have many interactions with Tim, can be turned into fights if you wish.

Side quests/minigames:

Avoid Tim

Go see Tim

Bartend

Poker

Pool

Keep an eye on Johnny and Pony

Steal (can be successful or unsuccessful)

Lie game w/ fuzz (or truth and getting out of crime you didn’t do)- related to memory games, logical (you must state an alibi based on all the things you’ve done)

Darry

Benefits: he has the largest default number for attack points, and most enemies leave him alone due to his reputation and large stature. Drawbacks: you have life or death quests like Steve, but you have to do them for 3 people. You also have a vinaigrette effect on your screen that may consume it. This is due to you being overworked, and the only way to make it go away is to skip a day of work. (this will lose you 10 dollars.. dangerous). Another thing with this effect- when fighting enemies, you may miss a turn because you are too tired to go fast enough. (if an enemy sees you tired without you hiding, they will attack on sight) Also, if Soda or Pony catches you without you using the function to hide your exhaustion, you will be forced to skip work or argue. (if you lose enough relationship w/ them, PB will run away, and Soda will be sad and not talk to you.)

Side Quests/minigames:

Mostly explained tbh

The disguise/hide function

Work

Check Pony’s homework

Bake chocolate cake

Budgeting (will effect a lot of gameplay)

Grocery shopping (must have needs met, and if you meet wants, happiness boost for PB and Soda)

Cleaning for social worker

Keeping from crying until you are in your room (if you lose, there is a false game over screen that you must click through. Then, you will see a screen where you and your brothers are hugging)

Soda

Benefits: charm/charisma function (+10 friendship/relationship points on any interaction). On normal mode, Steve has a 30% chance to spawn during fights and help you. Drawbacks: you have a ton of side quests related to comforting others, and during these, you must multitask and push down your own feelings (a button will be dedicated to this). You also have to play meditator, in which you essentially help both sides play tug of war, evening things out and making each side see the other one. If you fail, Pony runs away and you don’t have a game over, but the world becomes duller (actually, the colors change for real) and during every interaction you must push your feelings down. If you are caught, you have to talk your way out of it. (only allows wins, required for story.. forced lose when PB gets back)

Extra: smile function (just for funsies)

Side quests/minigames:

Meditator (tug of war w/ logic and emotion)

Push feelings down

Write letter to Sandy

Make Darry laugh

Work

Clean the house

Bake cake

Dye food

Two-Bit

Benefits: you can say something funny/off the wall enough to distract opponents and escape (only works sometimes). You also are more likely to not be caught in the steal minigame than anyone else. Drawbacks: if you go into a store, you are forced to play the steal minigame which can cause a game over if lost (unless Dallas takes the blame, rare chance- playing off of a book event where Two-Bit smashed windows and he took the blame). If Dallas does take the blame and goes to jail, if the event is set off where PB and Johnny run away, you have to help them instead (you are closest to PB other than Soda and Johnny). Along with this, you are drunk often, so you may be taken by surprise more in fights. Due to your drunkenness, you also can’t work and have to borrow money for upgrades by doing tasks for other greasers. (upgrades that are beyond food, Two-Bit’s switchblade, and drink cannot be stolen).

Side quests/minigames:

Stealing (specifically the blade, but anything)

Randomized tasks from other greasers

Looking for PB and J

Johnny

Benefits: you are willing to kill to keep yourself and others safe, meaning you die the least in battles (I had to give him something, okay). You also have great survival skills and can live without help for however long is necessary. (he’s on his own a lot soooo). Drawbacks- people target you because you look weak and small. You have to play the minigame “watch” often.

Side quests/minigames:

Watch- you have to look at your surroundings closely, everytime you go anywhere.

Start a fire

Cigarette run

Steal (likely win, you are stealthy)

Listen/comfort (PB)

School

Ponyboy

Benefits: call (able to call a nearby greaser once every three to five fights, depending on difficulty you selected). Intelligence (if you read, you may gain knowledge that can help you anywhere in the game). Drawbacks: you are small, so you must complete extra minigames to win with strategy or use call. You have your head in the clouds, so you may get surprise attacks more often, and you have the chance to receive timed tasks late and suffer the consequences if they are not done on time. You also can escalate fights because of your sass, which can trigger you running away w/ Johnny (basically what happened to Bob in the book will happen). Extra: you get more interactions with Johnny, Two-Bit, and Sodapop, but less with Steve and Darry. Based on the choices you make, Dallas interactions vary. Curly is optional, but you can interact with him more than any other character can.

Sidequests/minigames

Cigarette run

Get stuff for chocolate cake

Go to the library

Do something stupid with Curly

Avoid Darry

Do homework

Keep worry at bay

Homework

Avoid socs (forced loss)

Make cake!

Track (possible forced loss because of smoking)

Strategy minigames

Reading

Steve

Benefits: you have the most money (due to being kicked out and paid) and can purchase upgrades easier. Soda has a 30% chance (on normal mode) to show up during battles. Drawbacks: you get kicked out sometimes and have extra quests that are life or death (depending on how long you play, you may gain a tolerance and be less affected by needs, depending on your selected difficulty). You have to do extra quests to keep your anger down, or you may be hurt by reckless fighting or hurt your friends

Sidequests/minigames:

Survive the night (2 modes of completion)

Go to work/school

Drag Races

Evie

Pay attention! (School)

Break up/stay together (Evie and Steve fight)

Try not to lose your shit (any character around him, may lose or may not)

Poker

Mess with Pony

Upgrades

You can buy cigarettes, which will boost happiness 20% per time used (5 uses)- 3$(only bought twice)

You can buy a soda, thirst decreases 50%- 1.50$ (bought 5 times)

Chips are the same but for hunger

Paper (specific to PB)- 1$, infinite times (used to write story, you have to buy these as you complete story mode)

Gone With The Wind- 5$ (one time buy) required for Story Mode, but can be used for extra interactions with Johnny/PB in free play

Cake ingredients (unspecified)- 3$, once cooked, increase happiness by 50% and hunger decreases 10%

Two-Bit’s switchblade (for Two-Bit in freeplay. If you actually pay for it and don’t steal it, you will get a funny message regarding the strange occurrence)

Upgrades (emotion meter, some available to all characters, some not)

+10 strength- 50 points (available to everyone except PB and Johnny- I want you to feel their size/build and difference from other greasers)

+5 strength- 40 points (for PB and Johnny)

+extra life (90 points, risky to get this high- only for Darry, Dallas, and Steve)

+10 hp/ grit- 45 points (+20 for Johnny, same price)

+get another character’s special ability- 90 points (everyone)

+get another character’s special ability and one of their drawbacks (you can’t choose which drawback)- 70 points (everyone)

Relationship meter

You may create romantic relationships, but only approved ones (I’m sorry but this fandom has ethically questionable relationships and I’d rather not)

Or friendships

Any romantic builders will be labeled with hearts to minimize confusion. You may turn romance off.

#ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #the outsiders #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #the outsiders headcanons #headcanons #two bit mathews #steve randle

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amberlynnmurdock · 1 year

Text

Blind Faith

Chapter 3: Temperance

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get private self-defense lessons from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, who you call Mike now.

A/N: The POV switches a bit frequently in this chapter, between Matt and the reader. I tried to make it as clear as possible. Basically, if you see Matt's name when he's with the reader, it's from his POV. But if it's just described as "he" then it's the Reader's POV. Thanks to all for the kudos you've left on this so far <3 this fic is in its beginning stages but I am really excited to see it through. Enjoy! P.S. This entire series takes place after Season 3 of Daredevil, but Matt kept the black suit.

Chapter 2 here

Hell’s Kitchen

8:00 AM

You hated mornings.

You specifically hated mornings when you were hungover. Your phone alarm woke you up obnoxiously. Groaning, you slammed your finger on the button to shut it off, worried it might wake your friends.

The bright 8 AM sky of Hell’s Kitchen shone directly in your face. No amount of blankets covering your eyes could keep the darkness inside, and you forced yourself to wake up knowing your sleep was well over. You stretched in bed and reached for your phone again on your bedside table.

You scrolled through your notifications.

The Daily Bulletin posted a new article about new restaurants coming to Hell’s Kitchen this summer. You scrolled through mindlessly as you tried to stay awake. You had a few emails from professors, wishing you a happy graduation and good luck to prospective law students. You remembered your job searching app and that you had one new message from one of the firms you applied to.

Nelson and Murdock: 1 view, 1 new message.

You clicked open the message:

Hi __,

Thank you so much for applying to be our new legal assistant. Of all the applications we received, your resume stood out the most to us at Nelson & Murdock. We’d love to have you come in for an interview next week. Does Thursday at 4:00 PM work? We look forward to seeing you.

Sincerely,

Karen Page

Office Manager at Nelson & Murdock

You couldn’t help but smile at Ms. Page’s message. Finally! I get to have some experience working in the legal field before applying for Columbia Law.

You quickly typed out your message:

Dear Ms. Page,

Thank you so much for reaching out! Of course, I would love to come in for an interview. Thursday at 4:00 PM is perfect. Thanks so much for your consideration.

Regards,

___

You added the interview to your calendar and immediately texted your friends’ group chat the exciting news.

Hell’s Kitchen

8:30 PM

You wanted to go out with your friends, but you had other plans for tonight.

“I can’t believe __ is skipping out on tonight!” Hannah exclaimed as she was getting ready in the bathroom. You looked up from the LSAT book in your lap from the couch and mustered up the most convincing shrug.

“If I want to be a successful lawyer, I’ve got to get into law school first. Columbia, no less. That means studying for this Godforsaken test,” you held up the textbook in your hand and clumsily dropped it in your lap.

“Oh, you’ve got the whole summer to study,” Emily pried, dabbing her lipstick on.

“Better start now, then,” you retorted. The truth was, you were absolutely not going to get any studying done tonight. But it was unlike you to decline a night out with your friends, so you used the LSAT as your excuse. You had other plans… of course, if your savior decided to actually show. Who knows? Maybe vigilantes also played games like every guy you’ve ever met at NYU.

“Well, we’ll miss you,” Bella said as she walked out of her room. You smiled at her.

“The bright side is if you guys need me to pick you up, I’ll be sober to do so!” You tried to reason with them.

“True, though we may crash at Ben’s place. Depends how the night goes,” Hannah explained. You nodded, thinking that might be preferable, but you didn’t say so.

You waited patiently, hiding behind your textbook for your friends to leave for the night. Luckily, they decided to get dinner before going out. You would’ve been jealous had you actually needed to study, but the thought of seeing your savior was too exciting to be jealous about anything else.

As soon as they locked the door, you hopped up from the couch and changed out of your pajamas and into a relaxing outfit of leggings, a sports bra, and a hoodie.

It was 9:30—only thirty minutes until your secret meeting with the man in the mask on the rooftop of your apartment building.

Office of Nelson & Murdock

Earlier that day

“Okay, who’s ready to hit up Josie’s tonight?! Karen, Matt?” Foggy Nelson cheered as he slammed his hands on the conference table. Karen Page laughed in her seat as she leaned back in her chair. Her strawberry blonde hair was pushed to one side of her neck.

Matt Murdock suppressed a smile and paused the case file he was just listening to on his Orbit reader.

“I might be inclined,” Karen thought, leaning forward on her desk. “It would be nice to have a drink after coming in to work on a Saturday…”

“Oooh, yeah,” Foggy squinted his face, “sorry about that. I mean, it’s a good thing we’re getting a lot of clients but at the same time, we don’t have enough people here to talk to all of them,” Foggy explained. And then, he remembered something. “Hey, did that applicant ever reply to your message?”

“Oh!” Karen pointed a finger, “Let me check. Ahh, okay! Yes, wow, she did. Uhh, so she’ll be coming in for an interview next Thursday. I just calendared it.”

“Yes!” Foggy put his hands into fists. “Karen, I trust your judgment, unless you want Matt or I to sit in on the interview.”

“Either works. Whoever’s available, I guess,” Karen nodded.

“Cool. So, Josie’s tonight? Matt?”

Matt shook his head.

“I’ve got plans,” he simply said, a smirk on his face. Foggy rolled his eyes.

“Come on, man,” Foggy begged, “you can’t take one night off?”

“I—I can’t,” Matt answered, “I promise next time I’ll join you guys. But not tonight.”

Karen sighed. Matt knew neither of them was pleased with his nighttime activities as they called it, but they’d be happy to know that wasn’t entirely what he was up to tonight—then again, he’s not sure they’d be happy to hear what else he had planned. That was a secret he wouldn’t tell.

“Just let us know if you’ll need us, okay?” Karen asked. Matt nodded.

“Of course,” he said.

“Alright well, guess we’ll hit up Marci to join us,” Foggy suggested.

“Matt, we trust you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured them.

“Well then, I’m going to get a head start on Josie’s martinis. Karen, let’s get outta here.”

Hell’s Kitchen

10:00 PM

You stood by the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the people who walked the streets. You never came up here at all. Sometimes, you and your friends would take pictures up here, but that was it. Being up here alone felt different—it felt like a hideaway. There you were, watching as stores began to close, and bars began to open up. You could see the lights from Times Square in the distance. You shivered when a cool breeze passed.

And then you were startled by something—a thud, somewhere around the back of the rooftop access. You turned around in defense mode, waiting to confirm the identity of what the noise was.

Then, he appeared. Out of the black, into the soft light that reflected from midtown. His black shirt hugged him so tightly, you could see the outline of his muscles on his chest, his abs… his arms. His face was of course covered by the mask, but you saw his lips and the light stubble he had. His hands were wrapped in rope, like a boxer's. He wore black pants and boots to match.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” you decided to speak first as you walked toward him. You stopped after a few feet. The man in the mask walked toward the edge of the roof and sat on the edge, facing you.

“I keep my promises,” he replied. “It’s the Catholicism.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “you’re Catholic? And you act outside of the law? Seems like a subjective way of justifying things.”

“I don’t think about it too much,” he responded with a shrug. You eyed him suspiciously.

“So, before we begin,” you cleared your throat to keep the mood light, but truthfully he was making you nervous, for some reason. He had a smirk on his face you wanted to wipe off. “Why did you agree to come here and teach me how to defend myself?”

He was quiet for a few moments.

“You had a convincing argument, from what I remember,” he said.

“That can’t be enough to come out of your way and onto the rooftop of my apartment. Surely, you have more important things to do. So, why did you come? And don’t say it’s because of religion, because that’s bullshit.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” he returned. Your heart pounded when he said this. You were thankful it was dark out, or else he might’ve seen your blush. “And you know, it’s important you know how to defend yourself.”

“Hmm,” was all you said. You pressed your lips together. “Do you give all the girls you’ve saved before private self-defense lessons?”

He laughed. You liked how his laugh sounded.

“You’re my first student,” he said in a low voice.

“So, what should I call you? In my head, I’ve been calling you my savior.”

He smiled, then he got a bit serious.

“Call me Mike,” Mike said.

“Well then, Mike,” you walked closer to him so you were no more than a foot away. You crossed your arms and tilted your head. “I’m a quick learner.”

Mike pushed himself off from where he leaned, so the space between you shrunk even more.

“I don’t doubt that.”

~~~

“Show me what you’d do if someone were to approach you in front of you,” Mike ordered, placing his hands on his hips. You squinted your eyes at him, thinking.

“I’d try to do this,” you began as Mike pretended to “attack” you. You took your arms and tried to hit him away, but he grabbed you by your forearms and steadied you from losing your balance.

“That’s how they can get a hold on you, as I do now,” Mike explained, with a sly grin on his face. “Instead, you want to make sure you move both your arms to one side and do a swiping motion, so they can’t grab you. Try again.”

He got back into position as you did. You braced yourself as he came to you, holding up his arms. You did exactly what he said before, and moved your arms in a swiping motion, gently hitting his arms away.

“Don’t be afraid to hurt me when we do this. I want you to fully grasp how you’d handle yourself, God forbid, you ever had to,” Mike stated. “One more time.”

You repeated your stance as before, and this time, you aggressively swiped his arms away, feeling your forearm clash against his.

“Good girl,” he smiled in satisfaction. Your heart was pounding again in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was from his comment, or that self-defense training was like a workout. You huffed as you caught your breath.

“And what if they anticipate that? What next?” You asked, genuinely curious. Mike thought for a moment before answering.

“Then you have to use your legs,” he replied. “Let’s try that. Give me your arms,” he held up his hands. You raised your arms, and like slow motion, he wrapped his fingers around you, pulling you closer to him. You gasped at the contact. The tip of your nose barely touched his.

“Listen carefully,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve got your arms. You’re going to want to slip from under, using your whole weight.”

You nodded your head, understanding him. His grip on your arms tightened. You took a deep breath and then plunged, slipping out of his grasp.

“Now stop!” He halted. “Raise your right leg and try to kick my shoulder.”

“I don’t know if I can stretch that much,” you stressed.

“You can. This is life or death. Just try it,” he urged you.

You raised and kicked your right leg, hitting his shoulder and using the weight to push him away. He nodded and clapped his hands.

“Exactly that,” Mike smiled.

“I need a water,” you uttered, “I don’t know how you do this every night. Do you need a water?”

“I could use a water,” Mike answered.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Trotting down the rooftop access stairs, you hurried for two water bottles from the fridge. You glanced at the clock—11:30 PM. Sheesh. Time flies when you’re learning self-defense.

Upon entering the roof again, you were confused to not find Mike where you left him. You scanned the roof, looking for him. Did he leave?

Suddenly, a dark figure came charging at you. You dropped the water bottles and immediately went into defense mode, realizing it was Mike. You thought fast and swiped his arms immediately, swaying him to the side.

“That was a test,” Mike said out of breath.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, “You scared me!”

“That’s how fast an attacker will be. Out of nowhere, and just like that,” Mike explained.

You shook your head, picking up the water bottles from where you dropped them. You handed one to Mike.

“Let’s take a break, shall we?”

~~~

Matt contemplated coming tonight.

There was something wrong about why he chose to come to you, to fulfill his promise. When he started his activities, he told himself he’d never get attached to the people he saved—never get emotionally involved. He would strictly leave it to business: stop the criminals, and save the innocent person. But for some reason, with you, he couldn’t let go.

The second time he saved you was a complete accident…fate, as you had said. He was in a completely different part of town, and you so happened to be in the same area. He remembers hearing your voice, dignified, yelling at that punk kid to leave that innocent girl alone. He recognized your voice immediately. Matt’s hearing was so sensitive, even after hearing someone’s voice once, he could pick it out in an entire crowd. He liked that you talked to him; that you weren’t afraid of him in his suit.

And still, he wasn’t sure if coming tonight was a good idea. Because he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from coming again.

And now, here was, on your rooftop, sharing a bottle of water with you. He sat against the wall, knees pulled up. You sat next to him with your legs in front of you.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You suddenly asked in a soft voice. Matt tilted his head to listen to your body. You were calm now. You weren’t when he first showed up. Your heart was beating steady. She feels safe. She is safe. He could smell a lingering scent of your perfume on your skin. It smelled like black cherry and vanilla.

“Of what?” Matt asked in return.

“You know,” you shrugged, “expecting to be everyone’s savior.”

Matt shook his head, “not really. It’s easy to not get tired when you’ve accepted this as your purpose.”

“It’s your purpose, to bear the burden of other people’s situations?”

Matt laughed, despite himself. “Maybe.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to share that burden with—I’m right here,” you told him. “Even though I don’t actually know who you are.”

He smiled a little. “It’s better that way.”

“Is it?” You questioned. “I mean, you could literally be anyone. You might be one of my professors and I might not even know it. Actually, I’d hate that. I take it back,” you shook your head. Matt laughed again.

“I promise I’m not one of your professors.”

“Phew,” you said. “Well, who are you?”

“A New Yorker, like you.”

“I guess that counts,” you smiled. “How old are you?”

“Oh, come on,” Matt sighed.

“What? These are valid questions. I won’t figure out who you are, but I can know basic information. Can I guess? You’re definitely older than me.”

Another reason why this felt wrong. He wasn’t that much older than you—about seven years.

“I’m not that old,” Matt argued. You laughed.

“I didn’t say you were, Mike.”

“Let’s try another defense technique,” Matt said, changing the subject. He stood up from sitting and held out his hand for you. You grabbed it and he pulled you up. He let his hand linger in your touch before he let go again.

“Okay,” he said, “turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around,” Matt repeated. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered. Matt listened to you closely. You weren’t lying. You turned around.

“Do you mind if I…get close?”

It was your turn to pause. “No.”

“Okay,” Matt took a deep breath. He listened to you closely again, and using his senses, he took you in. He knew your hair was down. He slowly raised his hand and moved your hair to one side, revealing a part of your neck. He felt your goosebumps rise at his touch. You shivered. Matt pretended not to notice. He placed both his hands on either side of your waist, bringing you snug against him, so your back was against his chest. You felt warm against him, and delicate. He slid his arms underneath yours so he rested at your collarbone. He was completely holding you against him now.

“You okay?” He whispered in your ear. You took a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you said in a small voice.

“Someone could come up from behind you, and grab you like this,” he held you tighter for emphasis. “Similar to before if they got hold of your arms, you have to slide out from underneath. And kick back, too.”

“Okay,” you said in understanding. “Let me try.”

Matt anticipated your moves. He felt your muscles tense as you braced yourself to slide down. And you did, quickly. You exited his restraint, and he didn’t feel warm anymore.

“Good,” Matt said, “exactly.”

You caught your breath. “Can we do it again?”

Matt nodded, motioning for you to come to him.

You slid easily back against him, like putting on a glove. It was like your body melted against his, the way you sunk back into position. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath.

Matt could feel every muscle you had relax when you did this. It was then he slipped his arms under you again, holding you tightly—but not in the way he instructed before, a different way. He held you tighter against him and touched his covered nose on your temple. He took a deep breath, and instantly, like inhaling a drug, you filled his senses to the max. Your fragrance was intoxicating. He listened to your heartbeat slowly pick up its pace until it was pounding against your chest. He heard you take your own deep breath, as you sunk even more into his body.

It took everything in him to practice self-restraint. He repeated Bible verses in his head, the longer he held you.

A man without self-control is like a city broken into and left without walls. Proverbs 25:28.

“Ready,” Matt whispered.

~~~

You slipped out of his grasp, and you were almost successful, but he held onto your right hand. Mike kept holding on, and suddenly, you were pulled right back into his grasp. This time, facing him, you collided flush against his chest.

He was breathing heavily, and God did you wish you could see his face underneath that mask. His mouth was slightly parted, and you were breathing heavily. You felt Mike’s strong arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His nose gently touched yours. You felt his hand run up the length of your spine before it rested on the back of your neck. And then, his lips were on yours.

The kiss… you felt his stubble tickle your face, but you didn’t care. His lips crashed into yours, which you accepted gracefully. His lips were soft, but his kiss was rough. Needy. Curious. It was intoxicating, being kissed like that. The closest thing to describing it was like a brand new day. It was like exploring a new universe, where only the two of you existed. Yeah, that’s what it felt like right now. You weren’t in New York City, on your rooftop anymore. It was you and him sharing this kiss, with no one else to see. In secret. His head tilted to the side to take more of you in. You breathed in sharply, desperate for more.

And then, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“Was that your plan all along?” You asked suspiciously.

“No,” Mike answered. “It wasn’t.”

“Good,” you said, “because that’d be messed up.”

Mike laughed.

“I fear we are way past messed up now, sweetheart.”

Hell’s Kitchen

1:00 AM

Your friends stumbled into the apartment. You were on the couch, LSAT textbook in your hand. You kept reading and re-reading the same paragraph over and over. Your mind kept replaying your moment with Mike, just an hour ago.

“There’s our girl,” Hannah walked in the living room, plopping on the couch next to you. Bella made a beeline for the fridge and Emily sat on the floor, turning the TV on.

“How’d studying go?” Hannah asked drunkenly.

You sighed and closed your textbook.

“Terrible,” you answered with a knowing smile, “I’m in deep trouble for this test.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fan fiction #matt murdock imagine #daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox fan fiction #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel one shot #blind faith

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yoo-jeongneon · 1 year

Text

undo every button.. (even if one goes missing) | j.ww

× minors/ageless/empty blogs dni. you will be blocked. ×

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: romance

warnings: actor!wonwoo, actor!reader, smut, explicit language, acquaintances-to-lovers, director is an impatient bastard, awkward tension, confessions, flirtatious banter

smut warnings: afab anatomy used, fingering (reader), unprotected oral (both), cum swallowing, pet names (reader: babe, gorgeous, beautiful), quite passionate/intense, skipping sex due to not having a condom

word count: very nearly 4.6k

a/n: this is a one-shot from my old blog that i decided to repost here - let me know what you think, feedback is much appreciated!

× you and wonwoo are actors who have been called upon to star in a steamy music video. the three-day filming period is rather awkward, and things finally snap on the third day.. ×

The camera's eye is so hot on the two of you it could practically burn a hole through your skin.

You stand between Wonwoo's legs, hands on his shoulders, wearing nothing but a white button down and some black underwear. In contrast, Wonwoo is shirtless with the flies of his trousers undone; his hands ghost over your hips, still keeping that barrier between you, his palms growing sweatier by the second.

Wonwoo had been instructed to strip you down, roughly, with as much passion needed to convey the appropriate emotions. He needs to rip open the shirt, exposing nothing underneath, and kiss down the centre of your body.

Of course, with clever editing not much is seen, but the implication needs to be there and more importantly, needs to be clear.

So, the director encourages him, pushing him towards that goal of indicating such fiery intent that it would be obvious that he can't hold back.

Your eyes travel down to him, your mind an absolute mess of emotions when Wonwoo is this close to you. You want nothing more than for Wonwoo to just do it, take everything off and sink his teeth in. Dip his tongue below and ravage you. Pin you down to this very bed and fuck you stupid.

But Wonwoo becomes frozen.

His fingers dance across the space above your hips, unable to bring himself to do what the director has asked of him. He looks askance, gazing down at the floor as his stress levels peak.

Eventually he lowers his hands, resting them on his thighs, and calls for a five minute breather.

You can't help a sigh leaving your lips; a mix of uneasiness and confusion. You can't read Wonwoo's mind, how are you supposed to understand what exactly is going on in it?

Vexed as fuck, wishing the work day would just end, the director mumbles, "Cut.." You step back and sit on the stool by the dressing table, one leg crossed over the other. Standing between you, the director doesn't hide his frustration as he says, "When you're ready, do let us know."

The entire crew leaves the room with him, and once his back is turned, you roll your eyes, loathing how impatient he can be.

When you finally look over at Wonwoo, you realise he hasn't moved a single muscle.

"Um.." you swallow, "are you alright?"

He doesn't look up at you, and instead quietly says, "I don't know.."

There are a thousand gears turning in his head and he wants to throw a wrench in every single one. You watch him from across the room, thirty seconds of silence dissolving into an eternity.

Picking at a stray bit of lint on his trousers, Wonwoo closes his eyes and exhales. You get up and pace around the room, stopping by the window to get a view of the city.

You never realised just how beautiful it looks from this high up. Streetlights twinkle like stars on the roads below, and the distant noise of nightlife is only barely muffled by the glass that separates you.

You fold your arms after a time, shoulders tensing to your ears as you become painfully aware of Wonwoo's presence in the room. For the longest time, you figured if you never had to work in such close proximity to him, the feelings would go away and you could move on with your life.

But life dealt you a daunting card, and now you stand just inches away from the man himself, shirtless and completely unaware of exactly what it took for you to even be in the same room, let alone like this.

Behind you, you catch the faint rustling of sheets. You don't dare look back, choosing to keep your gaze fixed on the world in front of you.

Once Wonwoo reaches the end of the bed, he stands. He takes careful steps towards you, the subtle creaks of the floor beneath his feet an agonising reminder that he's spent too long hoping. Too long wishing. Too long imagining.

Not enough action.

Every centimetre of space lost is truly a test in and of itself. Does Wonwoo stop here and turn away? Does he call it quits with the director and run for the hills?

Or does he recognise the beautiful, smart, headstrong, fearless person who's a master of their craft standing right in front of him.. and actually make something known of this attraction?

By the time he's figured it out, he's standing directly behind you.

Damned if he fucking doesn't.

"N.." he murmurs, and it almost makes you jump. His voice drips beneath the base of your spine and down, and you swallow hard as it sinks in just how close he is. "There's something I need to say.."

Right now, you would very much like the ground beneath you to open a giant wormhole.

You bite down on your bottom lip and can only manage a whisper, "Yeah?"

With a sigh, Wonwoo says it point-blank, "I am so fucking crazy about you."

You suck in a breath. Your knees go completely weak and you have to close your eyes for a few seconds.

He did not just say that.

"And before you ask, no, I'm not lying," he forces a chuckle out, and that's what makes you finally turn around and look at him.

You search his face for some tiny crack in the seam, a sign that he's just messing with you, and that he did not just confess attraction for you while you're standing there yearning for him to turn you inside out.

But there's nothing of the sort. Wonwoo's expression remains wholly sincere. "That's why I've been so.. awkward these past couple of days. When I took on this project, I knew exactly what it entailed. I knew I'd be working with you and.. I genuinely thought I could do it without completely losing it but my feelings for you are just too strong."

Every word he says is just another punch to the gut. You truly had no idea he felt this way about you, but you suppose putting the whole thing into perspective, it makes some semblance of sense, even if it is crazy.

It then becomes apparent that if you don't say anything now, you'll probably never speak again.

"I really genuinely can't believe you just said that," you mutter quite neutrally, looking elsewhere so you don't have to make eye contact with him for more than a second. Wonwoo tugs at the inside of his lip; your remark feels rather blasé, but in your mind it's to circumvent wanting to bury your head in the sand and scream.

You sigh dreamily into the open air, "Because, lord, how am I meant to say this now.."

Wonwoo lifts his head. Say what? He can't help but feel he's just made an awkward situation even more uncomfortable.

"Wonwoo.." you exhale. "You have no idea how I feel about you." When your eyes meet, Wonwoo bites down on his tongue hard. You push your shoulders back, lifting your chin and doing so with purpose. "Because I am immensely insane about you." Before you know it, you can't stop. "And that scene just now, with me standing between your legs, I literally couldn't think, I just wanted you to-" You cut yourself off, and notice Wonwoo's eyes have darkened significantly.

He takes a step closer to the point it's stifling, "Wanted me to do what?" He can't help the vaguest smirk, a certain new confidence washing over him.

You pan down to his chest. You lift a hand, keeping it at a distance until Wonwoo takes it and places it just beneath the collarbone. Beneath it all, you can feel his heart thudding at a ridiculous pace, and you can tell it matches your own.

Wonwoo feels that spark the second your hand is on him. He struggles to keep his composure, wanting to give himself over completely, undo you in ways that have you screaming his name while letting you have your way with him.

The moment you look up into his eyes, your strong gaze bringing you both to the point of no return, Wonwoo knows you're both in for something much longer than a five minute breather.

"Everything the director asked for and more."

Wonwoo gulps. "N?"

"Yes?" you lift a brow.

"..Can I kiss you?"

Your lips tilt up. "Yes."

In an instant, Wonwoo crashes his lips against yours, snaking his arms around your body and pulling you impossibly close. A surprised yelp leaves your throat before you kiss back with just as much vigour, throwing your arms around his shoulders and arching your back into his grasp.

You move in unison to the end of bed and Wonwoo collapses down, placing you back in the position you were in minutes earlier. Thinking back to the director's instruction, Wonwoo rips the shirt open and kisses down the length of your body, tongue lapping over every inch of skin like it's a carnal need.

His mouth is so hot on your otherwise cool skin that you gasp for air, fingers tugging every strand of his locks urging him to go lower.

"Fuck, gorgeous," he groans against your navel, "you are stunning." He wraps his lips around one nipple, thumb teasing the other and a loud moan throttles out of your throat.

"Wonwoo-" You throw your head back at the pleasure coursing through your body as Wonwoo switches.

"What do you need, beautiful?" He doesn't relent, his tongue working hard on the buds until they're both stiff.

"You- fuck, touch me-" you beg, and Wonwoo chuckles as he slips a thumb inside your underwear and rubs circles on your clit. You convulse, twisting in the firm hold he has on your waist with just one hand, thighs already shaking at just a simple touch.

"Jesus, N, so wet for me.." he murmurs. He growls a little as he presses his thumb harder, rubbing faster, watching as you lose all balance and throw yourself forward. You clutch his shoulders and screw your eyes shut, moaning and whimpering as you reach your release. "That's it.."

"Oh- oh- fuck, Won-" You dig your nails into his shoulders and cry out as Wonwoo pushes the fabric aside and massages your folds, the tips of his fingers teasing your entrance. You twitch and contort and clench around nothing, holding on for dear life as Wonwoo sings praise after praise into your ear. "Wonwoo-"

"Yes?" he exhales.

"Please, more-"

"Yeah?" He pushes the tips of his fingers in and stars burst in your vision. "Like that?"

"Yes- ah- fuck-"

Wonwoo chuckles mischievously as he pushes one digit in, gently followed by the second with your permission. He curves his fingers inside, trying to find the spot to make you shriek.

"Ah-" you cry, already on the precipice and struggling to form any coherent thought when his slender fingers are buried. No room for thinking about what those fingers could do anymore when they're making mean work of your insides. "Gonna- fuck- gonna-"

"Go on, beautiful, let go, that's it-" The tips of his fingers just brush that spot, making you melt away into a puddle. "Fuck, so good, so, so good-" he husks, his fingers coated in your wetness. The strain of his cock in his briefs is becoming more and more unbearable and he grunts involuntarily, but remains focused on your pleasure all the while. He speeds up his movements and watches as you shudder in his hold, crying his name as you come undone.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers away, and you nearly fall into his lap; you then take his hand and bring the two digits to his mouth, lips curved upwards in a devilish smirk. Wonwoo gets the hint and drags his lips over the two digits, making a low noise at the back of his throat as he savours your taste.

Cupping his jaw, you capture Wonwoo's lips in another kiss, knee pressed firmly into the mattress just to keep yourself steady. Your tongues move back and forth to the point you can taste yourself, and a tight moan punches out of you.

Wonwoo falls back on the bed. His cock is now so painfully hard he has to cup a hand over it just for some relief.

You break the kiss and look down, seeing the noticeable tent that has formed in his trousers. You run your tongue over your lips and ask, "May I?"

Wonwoo knows exactly what you want to do, and his heart can't stop racing. "Please-" You smirk then push your hand down the open fly in his trousers and stroke softly through the fabric of his briefs. Wonwoo bucks his hips up, jaw tipping open as his eyes close.

With one hand resting on the bed, you up the pace. "Does that feel good?" you breathe into his ear, and Wonwoo wonders if he hasn't just died and gone to heaven.

"So good, fuck.. More, N, please-"

With an idea in mind, you take your hand out, causing Wonwoo to groan at the loss of contact. You chuckle at that, "One second.." You tug at the waistband of his trousers and Wonwoo gets the idea, helping to take them off and throw them aside. Next go his briefs, Wonwoo's hard cock curving upwards to his stomach.

"Holy shit-" you blurt.

Wonwoo smirks, unable to get rid of that mischievous glint in his eye as he watches you wrap a hand firmly around the base. He grunts, rolling his hips upward as you get down on your knees.

Pushing himself up, he watches as you gaze up at him, giving him a wink as you press a kiss to his inner thigh.

The second he realises what you want to do, he swallows. "You sure, N?"

Your eyes flicker up, "Mhm. I wanna make you feel good."

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, "If anything changes, or you wanna stop, grip my hand okay?"

Your heart flutters in your chest, "I will." You press another kiss to his thigh, and Wonwoo's eyes close.

In his own flustered state, he can't stand the teasing.

"N, babe, please-" The pet name is unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. You smile to yourself, heart ricocheting off every part of your body, and slowly bring your mouth to the tip of his leaking cock.

The sound that shudders out of Wonwoo is the guttural cry of a man teetering on the edge. He threads his fingers through your hair, wanting nothing more than for you to take him whole and suck him dry.

"N- fuck-" He pushes his hips up, wanting, needing something more, but you take your time, running your tongue down the underside and back up to the head. "Oh, God-"

With your hand still wrapped around the base, you take the head into your mouth and suck gently. It's absolutely mind-blowing how you could do so little and yet have this effect on him.

You moan subtly, causing tiny vibrations to surge through his body, and he almost falls back on the bed, unable to keep himself upright when everything you're doing below is murderous.

Eventually, Wonwoo finds the resolve to glance down, and you meet him half-way, glazed eyes glimmering against the warm hues of the floor lamp in the corner of the room.

Fuck, he's in trouble. Fuck, he's going to lose it. Fuck, he wants to ruin you.

You steadily take his entire cock in, breathing through the nose as you hollow out. He's fairly big, and the tip hits the back of your throat, but you do not mind one bit.

Wonwoo feels as though he's legitimately glitching out. The warmth of your mouth and the soft swipes of your tongue across every inch of his cock is doing him under in ways he wasn't prepared for.

"Jesus, fuck, N.. God, that feels so good-" You moan weakly at the praise, sending yet another jolt through him. He tightens his grip on your hair ever so slightly, and it only pushes you to work harder. "Fuck, your mouth is, ah-" He rolls his hips up, essentially fucking into your mouth, each push causing another sound to push out of your throat. "God, babe, I'm not gonna last-"

You then grip his hand, and Wonwoo immediately shifts, loosening his grip and giving you room to pull off his cock.

But you don't distance yourself too much, only muttering, "Come for me, I'll take it," before sinking back down.

Wonwoo short-circuits. His breath hitches as you lick at the tip, and he shudders and breaks as he comes hard in your mouth.

You take every last bit, stroking the base of Wonwoo's cock until he eventually stops. You pull back with a smug grin, licking over your lips before getting to your feet.

Wonwoo struggles to breathe as he comes down, groaning loudly into the air above him as he falls back onto the bed. You climb onto the bed and straddle him, and he instantly finds the strength to sit up and ardently tear the shirt off you, throwing it aside before you switch positions.

Wonwoo pins you to the bed, devouring your lips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Fuck, I want you so bad-" he moans between kisses.

You whimper and reach for the waistband of your underwear, trying to push them down before Wonwoo takes the reins and pulls them off, discarding them along with the shirt. You spread your legs wide and Wonwoo can only stare at the glisten of arousal.

"Please-" you beg. "Want your mouth.."

Wonwoo smiles knowingly, then lowers himself until he's level with your clit before pressing a kiss just above. You moan and reach down to grip his hair, which only spurs him on.

He tests the waters with a single lick to the bud. You grab the sheets, your hips flexing up into him, and Wonwoo dives in, steadily, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud and sucking delicately, choosing to also take his time. He holds onto you thighs and buries his face into your folds, running his tongue up and down the length before working his way back up the clit.

Each new ministration is dangerous. You buck into his mouth helplessly, aching for more of him, fingers locked in his hair as you cry out his name.

Wonwoo claws his fingers into your thighs, trapping himself there, then draws one hand up the length of your body. You grab his hand and hold on, unable to think, speak or function properly in the foggy haze of having exactly what you've dreamed of finally happen.

"Ah- ah-" Very few coherent words can be uttered, the sounds a mix of jumbled letters and strained noises. "Ple- Won- ah.."

Wonwoo understands he's been asked after, and draws back just briefly. "What do you need, babe?" His lips reattach to the clit and he sucks a little more fervently.

"To- Tongue- oh.." You clasp his hand harder as Wonwoo brushes the tip of his tongue against your entrance. "Yes- please-"

Pulling away for a mere second, Wonwoo breathes in his lowest voice, "Let me hear you, babe.. I got you."

Wonwoo plunges into your heat and you spring off the bed. "Fuck- Wonwoo!"

Wonwoo can't help a smile forming as he pushes his tongue deeper inside; that's exactly what he was after.

Your moans turn to heavy panting as Wonwoo laps at the warmth, pushing his tongue in and out before licking one long stripe up the centre and back down again. He devours like a man starved, eyes closed and brows knitted together and revels in every sound you make.

Wonwoo thinks for a brief second that you'll let go of his hand, but when you only tighten your grip, hips stuttering into him with a litany of curses spilling from your mouth, he knows you're close. He wraps his lips around the bud again and hums, and that's what finally throws you over the edge.

It's only then that you let go of his hand, resting the back of it on your forehead as tears sting the back of your eyes.

Wonwoo helps you through it, relaxing his muscles and letting the moment sit for a while. Drawing back, he runs his tongue over his lips and swipes the remains off his chin.

He crawls up the bed until he's eye level, and your eyes - dazed and off-kilter from everything that's just happened - flutter open. You're barely able to take in the sight of Wonwoo hovering above you before you're wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him down. Wonwoo follows eagerly, kissing so tenderly, and you get another quick taste before Wonwoo is dragging his lips down to your neck.

With one hand on your hip bone, the other keeping himself steady on the pillow, Wonwoo buries his head in the crook of your neck and kisses ardently. You gasp, keening into him as you dig your fingers into his lower back.

Wonwoo grunts then says into you ear, "How did that feel?"

You wish you could form enough comprehensible speech to answer.

Gazing up at him, you reach up to cup his jaw and meekly whisper, "So fucking good, you are.." Wonwoo smiles, heartfelt, and presses a kiss to your forehead. You hum; this proximity is kind of surreal, and you want to bask in this moment forever. "How did-" your eyes flicker down, "that feel?"

Wonwoo gets it immediately. "N, you've got no fucking idea," he laughs, but means it sincerely. "What you did? Insane."

Your eyes find each other, and something stirs in both of you. Wonwoo leans down and presses another kiss to your lips that you return, before you grab his face between your palms and deepen it.

Wonwoo mutters between kisses, "Do you wanna do this?"

"God, yes, please fuck me-" you answer. Wonwoo's heart jumps into his throat, and he goes back to indulging you in kisses.

You both want this so fucking bad, but the second Wonwoo climbs into position, reality hits him and he breaks away.

You stare at him, a little bewildered, but Wonwoo leans down and whispers, "Ain't got a condom."

Your eyes go wide, "Oh, shit."

Wonwoo utters a fuck under his breath and turns to lay on his side next to you. He lets out a chuckle, "Ah, Jesus.."

"And I don't have one either.." you mutter. Wonwoo leans into your side, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with a soft grin on his face.

Both of you are no doubt disappointed, but you have a bit of fun with it.

"Do you think the director would mind if we went and got some?" Wonwoo jokes. You erupt in laughter and nudge him. "Uh, yeah, excuse me, N and I desperately wanna fuck, but no condoms, can we go buy some?"

You laugh harder, and Wonwoo's face lights up at that sound.

That's when you catch yourselves staring at one another again.

This entire situation has changed everything.

Neither of you could deny your feelings, and you had just spent a fair bit of time showing each other exactly how you feel, but now it's come to actually talking about it.

"N, I.." Wonwoo mumbles. "I wanna see you again," he says, outright. "I wanna-" He cuts himself off at the sight of your glazed, beautiful eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat and continues, "I wanna be with you."

You bite your bottom lip then sigh, "I want that too."

Wonwoo's shoulders tense. He gathers up whatever's left of his courage and asks, "Would you.. like to come to my place? Say, this Friday?"

A warm smile trickles onto your face, "I would love that."

He mirrors your expression, then leans down to kiss you again. You stay like that until a thought pops into your head. "Do you think the director has caught onto what we've been doing?"

Wonwoo pulls away and hums. "Well if he hasn't yet, then-" As if on cue, a knock at the door. "Ah." Caught off guard, you throw your head back in laughter.

On the other side of the door, a now infuriated director huffs and shouts, "Are you two done with your five minute breather?"

Wonwoo nestles close to you, "It would be rude to ask for five more minutes, wouldn't it?"

You hit his shoulder lightly, "Wonwoo!" He chuckles before meeting your lips again, your smiles turning into another intense kiss as Wonwoo runs his hand down the side of your body and raises your leg up. Your chest tightens at the sensation, a soft whimper leaving the back of your throat.

..It would be rude to ask for five more minutes.

Another loud knock interrupts them, and you finally break away with a sigh. "We probably shouldn't keep them waiting," you admit.

Wonwoo eventually agrees, slightly peeved but nonetheless understanding. "One second!" he yells out to the director.

You sit up first, leaving him to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling just to process this. You titter at the mess around you of bunched up clothes in tiny piles at the foot and the side of the bed, then reach forward to grab the shirt so you can put it back on.

With six buttons done up, you go to do the seventh, when you notice something out of the ordinary. Your brows furrow as your thumb recognises no plastic to hold onto, and when you look down and inspect further, you snort and cover your face.

Wonwoo catches this and lifts a brow, "What's up?"

"Come here," you beckon him over. He sits up and pushes himself down the length of the bed, pecking your shoulder once more before resting his chin on it. "So.. you know they talk about blurring the lines between what is and what isn't acting?" He hums affirmatively. You alert him to what you found and he stares at it. "Does a missing button fall under that?"

It takes him two seconds, but then, "Oh, shit-"

You laugh as Wonwoo launches off the bed in a desperate search for this missing button. He stops to throw his briefs back on, then kneels on the floor to check under the bed. You do the same with your underwear then lean over to where he's searching. "Any luck?"

"No.. and both our phones are in our rooms so we don't have a torch." He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. "Did I really rip the shirt open so hard a button flew off?"

"Ah, I think it's alright." He looks up at you. "If they do notice a torn off button, well that's all part of the act, isn't it?" you wink, leaning close to him.

Wonwoo freezes in place; another knock makes him jump, and he steals a kiss before moving to put his trousers back on. You make yourself comfortable at the end of the bed while Wonwoo heads for the door to open it.

The director storms in and stops between the two of you.

"So-" he starts, "are we now a bit more prepared to film this scene?"

You suppress a smile by biting down on your lip, and Wonwoo can't help a smirk as he looks at you and answers the query.

"Definitely.. though we may have a missing button."

× yoo-jeongneon ×

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #⚡yoo jeongneon⚡

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pictureinme · 1 year

Text

cheri cheri lady – kitten braden (4)

❧ you go to a peepshow. you meet kitten. your life is flipped upside down.

patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader tags: voyeurism, oral sex, p in v, etc. (see ao3 for full list) parts: (1) (2) (3) 4 (5) (6)

Your head thumps against the duvet, and you let out a long exhale, “That was amazing, Kitten.”

She moves slowly to sit on your lap as you lay down, smiling down at you, “You, my dear, are divine.”

Her hands find their way to your chest, still covered by your button up. You start to ghost your fingertips on her hips, and goosebumps appear.

Unbuttoning your blouse, Kitten bites her lip as she reveals your lacy bra, “Pretty girl…”

She feels you through the bra, and you whine from impatience, “Let me take it off, love.”

You quickly undo it, and toss the offending piece of attire somewhere unknown. She immediately dives down to kiss and lick all over.

“Kitten, fuck!” you yelp as she bites down harshly, but you can’t deny the pleasure that rushes through your veins.

She looks at you with doe eyes as she starts to leave a hickey right next to your nipple. The prolonged eye contact had you reeling.

Interrupting your shared bliss, you hear a record skipping, and you realize that you two never took the needle off. Rushing out of bed, surprising a delighted Kitten in the process, you rush to save your hopefully not scratched up record.

Doing so, you let out a sigh of relief. Wandering naked back to your room, you are met with a bare Kitten lying seductively on your bedspread.

“Come back to bed, doll.”

Obeying, you crawl over to her on the bed, and attack her with a flurry of kisses.

Your thigh glances between her legs, and you can feel her hardness again. Keeping your leg there, she grinds against you needily.

“Can I tell you something, Kitten?” you tease one of her nipples softly.

“Always.”

“I don’t want this night to end anytime soon,” you nip at the skin behind her ear, being careful not to leave any incriminating marks.

She sighs dreamily, “Then let’s not let it end.”

You push your thigh up further, and she moans while trapping your lips in a kiss.

“Please, I need you, Miss (Y/N)..."

“Your wish is my command. Open,” you wet your fingers with her outstretched tongue, “And don’t call me miss, don’t we know each other well enough by now?”

Kitten’s answer is only a whimper of need around your digits. You release them with a ‘pop,’ and move to circle around her entrance. This elicits a gasp from her, and she looks into your lust-filled eyes.

You move your face closer to hers, hearing her breath quicken, “Are you okay, baby?”

She nods, “Please.”

You enter her slowly, knuckle by knuckle, and curling as you go. She lets out the most erotic, yet subdued, moan you’ve ever heard.

“How does it feel, Kitten? Use your words.”

“It feels perfect, (Y/N), it feels perfect. Keep going,” her eyes fight to stay open, in order to watch you open her up.

You add a second finger, but not before spitting to lube it up further. She whines at this, causing a smirk to appear on your face, “Dirty girl.”

“I can’t help it,” she grinds back onto you, beaming.

As you fuck into her, you whisper praises and sweet things, all meant for her.

“Lovely little Kitten, so good for me. Do you like me fucking you like this?”

Nodding, she spreads her legs even further, “I need more, please, (Y/N).”

You stutter in your movements, thinking, “Can we try something, love?”

“Depends. You gonna tie me up or something?” she shoots you an inquisitive look, but not disgusted. Interesting.

“Let me just show you.”

You slowly remove your fingers, with a kiss to her forehead, and you search in your bedside table for the prized possession.

Emerging you show her the ‘something’ you wanted to try: a strap-on.

“Oh, my…” Kitten moves to cover her smirking mouth with a hand, barely hiding her interest.

“I have different sizes and types, if you want to take a look…” shyly, you place the harness on the bed as she leans to see what toys you have.

She picks up your favorite, a basic pink dildo, around 7 inches or so, “I like this one, let me put it on you, love.”

You let her tighten the harness and put the toy through the ring, and she marvels at her handiwork, “Now that is more like it.”

Giving it a kiss on the tip, she spreads the lube from the drawer on it.

“You sure you’re ready, Kitten?”

She leans against the headboard, legs open for you.

“Get over here, casanova.”

#patricia braden x reader #kitten braden x reader #breakfast on pluto

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kairithemang0 · 18 hours

Text

Little Curtwen thing I thought of that probably won't be great but maybe I'll polish it and edit it if y'all like it

I haven't written a gay panic fic for them in a while

Curt's heart pounded in his chest as he grabbed the black bowtie from the end table of he and Owen's hotel room, wrapping it around the collar of his white button up shirt, holding his breath. Owen walked out of the bathroom, buttoning his shirt halfway as he placed a hand on his shoulder as he passed, going to the other side of the table as Curt quickly fixed his hair in the mirror, making sure he looked passable.

Curt's eyes trailed away from his reflection down to Owen, who tucked his shirt into his pants and pulled it out slightly, before finishing buttoning it. Curt was almost disappointed he didn't get a better look at his chest hair before it disappeared under his ironed button-down shirt. His hair dripped from the shower, he wiped it out of his face, feeling Curt's eyes on him.

"You need something, Mega?" He questioned Curt, who turned back to his reflection and finished with his bowtie.

"You need to dry your hair," he told him, knowing he didn't care what his hair looked like. Messy, clean, wet, dry, it always looked incredible. Curt didn't know how Owen did it, how him carding his nails through his hair to get it out of his face made Curt's heart skip enough beats to where it became unhealthy, and he needed a glass of water.

Owen let out a chuckle, leaning against the table, eyes falling up and down Curt's body, before a small smirk fell to his face. Curt thought he was about to crumble and die watching those whiskey eyes poison him with that little glint of attraction. Curt hoped it was attraction, at least.

Owen moved closer to Curt, hands crawling up his arm. Oh god. Oh god it was happening. Owen's hair was still in his face, dripping onto the cheap vomit smelling carpet that was hidden by Owen's cologne. He smelled incredible, like fresh honey and a hint of lavender. His hand crawled up to Curt's collar, eyes moving towards his lips. He was going to kiss him. It was actually happening. Owen Carvour, one of the world's greatest spies, man with his walls up, was about to kiss him.

Owen let out a soft laugh, fixing Curt's collar, "Why so flush, Mega?" He trailed his eyes down to Curt's bowtie as he flicked the collar down, "It was all messed up, it was bothering me," he mumbled, Curt feeling his heart stop as Owen walked away, continuing to get ready, grabbing his own tie and wrapping it around his neck with one swift motion that made Curt melt in the room that felt so dreadfully cold the night before.

Curt touched the back of his neck, turning to his reflection, noticing his disappointed look wished he could hide. He wanted to go into the bathroom and bang his hand to the old disgusting tile and when Owen came in to ask what the hell he was doing he'd push him hard against the wall, one hand in his hair, about to taste the lavender cologne on his lips as he held Owen's waist tight, nails digging into his skin, sliding down his perfect dress pants.

Forget the mission, forget the job, all he wanted was Owen so close to him, able to feel his painfully soft hands against his rough broken skin. Curt almost wished for a moment he was Owen's real partner, the one they were meeting at this party they were meant to go to, to track down old documents. He and Owen could dance, leave the mission behind and find a quiet bedroom and shove each other against a mattress that wasn't hard and agonizing to their backs.

Curt felt Owen's hand fall to his shoulder again, "Ready to go, Mega?" He grasped Curt's shoulder tighter, nails digging into his skin. Curt reached up and held it, he was gentle. Maybe Owen would be gentle too. Maybe Owen would be as sweet as his cologne. Owen grabbed his gun, handing Curt his own, waiting for him to respond, eyebrows raised.

Curt let go of Owen's hand and took the gun, "Yeah, I'm ready."

#spies are forever #tin can bros #tin can brothers #owen carvour #agent curt mega #curtwen #kai writes shit #saf fanfic

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en-whims · 1 year

Text

𝄞 ESCAPES | LEE HEESEUNG

[scan creds to ado2re]

the fourth instalment from the “Narratives from the Walkman: a 90’s love collective” series

genres: bff au; fluff; f2l (?); angst | wc: 2.1k | tagging: @yenqa @yjjungwon @sophialosthercardigan @saucyjaeyun

[ 👤 ] SIDE A ; BOY 4 ㅡ LEE HEESEUNG

° ❝ i'll be yours if you'll be mine

'cause i'm lonely, i'm so lonely

if you hold me, i'll be your only

so if you're lonely, no need to show me

if you're lonely, come be lonely with me. ❞ °

[ 🎧 ] SIDE B ; TRACK 4 ㅡ this side of paradise by coyote theory

Skipping one of the most awaited events in high school has always been something you never regretted. When your first best friend left you before even taking you on the dance floor as he promised, you completely shrugged away all thoughts of a happy, magical life in school.

Things seemed easier that way instead of hoping for sparkling lights and glittering dresses, swooshing to and from without anybody to lock your fingers with to grace the night away.

That was until your college decided to throw a graduation ball months before leaving the university behind. You finally felt the hidden regret creeping under your skin.

Still, you stood by your word and chose not to go. Mainly because you didn’t want to awkwardly stand there in a room full of people, hopelessly wishing that Ni-ki will at least surprise you on that night. You wrapped yourself under the comforts of your thick blanket and activated the only source of light in your room, the television.

A few episodes into The Umbrella Academy, you heard your stomach grumble. You had decided to rewatch the show for old-time’s sake, minus Ni-ki’s presence and the galaxy stickers that once sparkled in your bedroom because someone wanted it to be dreamy.

Moping around and doing the things you used to do with him was something you thought would suffice the loneliness you felt since you couldn’t attend tonight’s ball… until you heard your phone ding. Shuffling from your bed, you immediately sat up, unconsciously wishing it was from Ni-ki.

To receive a text saying, “I have too much wine and nobody to drink with,” was all it took for you to know that Heeseung needed your presence as soon as possible. You and Heeseung had been best friends since junior year in college and saying that your relationship with each other was entirely platonic was the biggest understatement of the century.

A few wardrobe changes and confusions later, you finally arrived in front of his apartment; dressed in ‘fancy clothing’, as per his request. It was only when he opened the door, wearing a silky blue button-up and semi-fitted jeans that you realized why he wanted you to fix up as well.

He stood in front of you– dashing, drop-dead gorgeous. Your breath hitched in your throat, and the pounding of your heart made your chest vibrate as you watched him slay in all his simple glory.

A little while ago you thought that it’d be another torturing night of trying to hide your stupid feelings for your best friend, and you weren’t wrong.

Not with him making you go crazy like this.

“Welcome to my humble home, M'lady.” He joked, pretending to bow while he made space for you to pass through the doorway.

“You weirdo.” You replied, poking his forehead, to which he responded with a whine though it was accompanied by laughter. He closed the door behind you, and you gawked at the transformation of his living room; the vintage throws tucked in a corner, replaced with silk sheets and blue led stars hanging from the ceiling, in the center of the room is a table for two with a candlelit dinner set-up.

“You were supposed to respond with something similar like thank you, my good sir, or something.” He snorted, pausing behind you after he noticed your awestruck pause. “You like it?”

Turning around to face him, you cock your head to the side with a faint smile. “I’m going to have to commend you on this one, Sir.”

Immediately, his lips tug upward into a cute smile, and he wasted no time in getting you both to start digging in and drinking by pulling you along with him to the balcony.

Maybe he was right, he had too much wine with too much alcohol, but even if he did invite a couple more yous over, his stock wouldn’t ever run out. But maybe it was also a good thing that he had you over, with another good thing being… he only asked you and nobody else.

The sound of your glasses clinking seemed to reverberate even in the crowd of things around you, but it seemed to linger a little longer in the air than it originally should’ve. You refused to think deeper, that it’s just because there’s something else with the way you spent time together today compared to before.

“So why the extra stuff?” You chimed up, taking a sip from your drink. Heeseung stared at you from the brim of his own glass.

“Does it matter?” He asked, downing the bitter liquid as he leaned back onto his chair, one arm outstretched as he set his glass on top of the dressed table. “I just want to treat you to something nice once in a while. Also because you haven’t experienced prom so here’s me giving you an exclusive version.”

You cocked a brow. “Is that so?”

“Why do you doubt me so much?”

“No idea,” You chuckled, pursing your lips before downing the liquid with a smile, shaking your head. Heeseung’s eyes flickered up to lock with yours, beady and shiny under the glimmering blue lights.

“You enjoyed it, though?” He asked, gaze lidded and hazy before he gulped, throwing his head back when he felt the alcohol take over his body, prodding his vision into a blur.

“Of course.” You replied, blinking as you felt equally intoxicated, your vision starting to disrupt as well.

“I’m glad,” Heeseung said, running his palms over his face and then through his hair, making him look like a hot mess as he smiled back up at you. “That’s all that matters.”

You nodded, unable to say anything, but you felt your heart swell at his words. How cutely sexy he looked at that moment— it definitely didn’t help.

“You ever think…” He gulped, licking his lips. “You ever think about what life would be if you didn’t run over me with your pile of books that one autumn day in the library?”

Instantly, you released an amused snort, bursting into a fit of staggered chuckles after hearing the familiar incident. “Way to ruin the mood, Hee.”

“But really,” He laughed, shaking his head.“Who would’ve thought we’d be the best of friends?”

“True. Nobody really saw that coming.”

“It’s safe to say that you could…” He trailed off, squinting his eyes at you from across the table. “Bump me, step on me, grind on me, ma’am.”

You snorted. “Oh. You mean it?”

You both laughed, finding his choice of words hilarious, though it was enough to bring a tinge of crimson onto both of your cheeks. You both refused to point it out.

Then the candlelit dinner was long forgotten, leftover bites and half-empty wine glasses staying static on top of the dressed table in the center of the room as you and Heeseung decided to slump against one another on his sofa tucked on a corner, a little too tipsy to move.

“Y/n?” He chimed up, your heads were thrown back against the backrest of the sofa. Beside him, you hummed, turning your head lazily. “Can I lay my head on your shoulder?”

“Sure.”

Instantly, he scooted closer towards you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and humming onto your skin.

“I really wish…” He nuzzled closer. “I really wish I could hold you like this whenever I want to.”

“I’m one call away, Hee. You know that.” You said, leaning your cheek against the top of his head.

“I do.” He whined, his tone almost babyish as you could feel the pout of his lips. “But I want it to be more than just this.”

He paused, lifting his head up slightly, resting his chin against the blade of your shoulder as he looked at you with hazy eyes.

“I want to be with you wherever you go. I want to hug you, hold you, and kiss you whenever I want to, rain or shine. I want to hold your hand and take you on cute dates, I want to raise dogs and cats and fish and even elephants with you, I want to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had, better than those jerks you used to cry over—”

“Heeseung,” You tried to cut him off, a smile starting to creep onto your face, but he didn’t seem to be listening.

“—give you everything that I’ve got because I’m in love with you, I wish I realized it sooner, but I’m such an idiot that I didn’t. And I hate myself because I couldn’t bring myself to tell you if I’m sober and I-”

Promptly, you grabbed his chin and placed a quick kiss on his lips, pulling away and staring at him in the eye just to wait for his reaction.

“How long have you been keeping all this from me, you blithering idiot?” You asked, though he only raised a hand up, using his pointer finger to shakily poke your cheek with a drunken gaze.

“Am I really, really drunk, or did you just kiss me?”

“Both, idiot.” You laughed, shaking your head. You continued to wait for what he had to say, though his finger only traveled down to the plump of your lips from your cheek. He pouted slightly, gaze flickering up from his finger as he blinked at you.

“Can I?” He asked, and even though he was a little drunk and absurd, you felt he was still self-aware. Just a little cuter and bolder than usual.

“You can.” You said, running one hand through his soft hair as you look at him lovingly. “I’m all yours.”

“All mine, huh? What does that make me then? Yours too?” He asked, eyes widening slightly for a moment before he grinned, taking you by surprise when he took you by the chin, muttering against your lips before kissing you deeply.

“Yes. All of you. You and your whiny and clingy ass, your almost triumphant mullet, your ever-changing moods, and the things I have yet to explore about you.” You pulled away, giving your face a small distance as you rested your forehead against his. He smiled as he bit his lower lip, trying to stop himself from smiling too much.

And what you both thought was platonic, wasn’t really that at all. In fact, it never was.

But just like any other memory of yours, it vanished; too quickly even for you to notice. Heeseung hated to admit it, but with both of your feelings in the way, he thought it was best to tell you now than under any other circumstances.

He was bound to leave town in the next few days after graduation. Of course, it was already expected given the fact that you’re both about to leave college and venture out and seek jobs on your own. But to leave so soon left you baffled.

Apparently, one of the companies he applied to a week prior called him back and they wanted your best friend in the heart of a place much far for you to even follow. The last time this happened, he left you for another state with an unkept promise. It was wise to assume that Heeseung would do the same thing, considering his applications were successful.

A 12-hour driving distance from him was the end of something that hadn’t even started. But there was no other way, with him being a favored student from a university, higher demands must be met with a career that’s been chasing him since day one in college.

“You know you can still call me if you need a random getaway.” He whispered. “I may be far but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget about us.”

“You’ll meet new folks there that would potentially replace me.”

“That’s silly and you know that. You’re still my best friend. And you actually might be the one to replace me. I heard Jay’s been trying to steal your attention a lot more than usual lately.” You only glared at him with a lingering fear at the back of your mind that maybe, he was right. Replacements might just be your new norm now.

That was the hardest part of moving forward when you both left yourselves hanging in between random escapades and fleeting memories. You were each other’s best getaway. You both just discovered it. Anywhere with each other always felt like home and an adventure all at once.

But you both have to do away with what’s needed to be done. And with that, Heeseung called it day— a final kiss on your forehead…

a touch of farewell and a see-you-whenever. —

leave an ask or a message by the front desk if you want to be added to the taglist!

#enhypen fluff #enhypen heeseung #enhypen angst #lee heeseung #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen blurbs #enhypen timestamps #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #heeseung fluff #enhypen heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung drabbles #heeseung smut

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outsiders-chooseyourownadventure · 4 months

Text

video game concepts/headcanons

very long post (separate blog because I don't want to clog up my main)

if i continue w/ this, each character will get a link here to start the "game" which would be a choose your own adventure

Benefits: you have tuff hair

Choose a greaser:

Dallas

Side quests/minigames:

Avoid Tim

Go see Tim

Bartend

Poker

Pool

Keep an eye on Johnny and Pony

Steal (can be successful or unsuccessful)

Lie game w/ fuzz (or truth and getting out of crime you didn’t do)- related to memory games, logical (you must state an alibi based on all the things you’ve done)

Darry

Side Quests/minigames:

Mostly explained tbh

The disguise/hide function

Work

Check Pony’s homework

Bake chocolate cake

Budgeting (will effect a lot of gameplay)

Grocery shopping (must have needs met, and if you meet wants, happiness boost for PB and Soda)

Cleaning for social worker

Keeping from crying until you are in your room (if you lose, there is a false game over screen that you must click through. Then, you will see a screen where you and your brothers are hugging)

Soda

Extra: smile function (just for funsies)

Side quests/minigames:

Meditator (tug of war w/ logic and emotion)

Push feelings down

Write letter to Sandy

Make Darry laugh

Work

Clean the house

Bake cake

Dye food

Two-Bit

Side quests/minigames:

Stealing (specifically the blade, but anything)

Randomized tasks from other greasers

Looking for PB and J

Johnny

Side quests/minigames:

Watch- you have to look at your surroundings closely, everytime you go anywhere.

Start a fire

Cigarette run

Steal (likely win, you are stealthy)

Listen/comfort (PB)

School

Ponyboy

Sidequests/minigames

Cigarette run

Get stuff for chocolate cake

Go to the library

Do something stupid with Curly

Avoid Darry

Do homework

Keep worry at bay

Homework

Avoid socs (forced loss)

Make cake!

Track (possible forced loss because of smoking)

Strategy minigames

Reading

Steve

Sidequests/minigames:

Survive the night (2 modes of completion)

Go to work/school

Drag Races

Evie

Pay attention! (School)

Break up/stay together (Evie and Steve fight)

Try not to lose your shit (any character around him, may lose or may not)

Poker

Mess with Pony

Upgrades

You can buy cigarettes, which will boost happiness 20% per time used (5 uses)- 3$(only bought twice)

You can buy a soda, thirst decreases 50%- 1.50$ (bought 5 times)

Chips are the same but for hunger

Paper (specific to PB)- 1$, infinite times (used to write story, you have to buy these as you complete story mode)

Gone With The Wind- 5$ (one time buy) required for Story Mode, but can be used for extra interactions with Johnny/PB in free play

Cake ingredients (unspecified)- 3$, once cooked, increase happiness by 50% and hunger decreases 10%

Two-Bit’s switchblade (for Two-Bit in freeplay. If you actually pay for it and don’t steal it, you will get a funny message regarding the strange occurrence)

Upgrades (emotion meter, some available to all characters, some not)

+10 strength- 50 points (available to everyone except PB and Johnny- I want you to feel their size/build and difference from other greasers)

+5 strength- 40 points (for PB and Johnny)

+extra life (90 points, risky to get this high- only for Darry, Dallas, and Steve)

+10 hp/ grit- 45 points (+20 for Johnny, same price)

+get another character’s special ability- 90 points (everyone)

+get another character’s special ability and one of their drawbacks (you can’t choose which drawback)- 70 points (everyone)

Relationship meter

You may create romantic relationships, but only approved ones (I’m sorry but this fandom has ethically questionable relationships and I’d rather not)

Or friendships

Any romantic builders will be labeled with hearts to minimize confusion. You may turn romance off.

#the outsiders #choose your own adventure #big project #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #johnny cade #sodapop curtis

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running-tweezers · 2 months

Text

~ Pictures Of You - Part 2 ~

Ever since Nate picked up the phone and broke the ice last week, he is dying to talk to Zephyr again. After catching a few glimpses of what might be hiding under their carefully curated TV personality, now all he wants is to crack that fabricated facade.

Rated T

1507 Words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~ May 5, 1989 ~

Nate only took a few sips of his coffee before abandoning the mug on the end table. He didn’t really need it. He was already wide awake.

Only 5 more minutes until he got the chance to talk to Zephyr again.

He made up his mind last Friday, when he talked to Mick about it. She clocked his extra tired eyes immediately. Not that she needed to pry any information out of him, he was already chomping at the bit to tell her everything as soon as he walked through the door.

“So you’re gonna call in again next week, right?” she asked.

“I don’t know, would that be weird? Too much?”

“They’re a freaky goth broadcasting onto public access from their basement at 1 in the morning. I don’t think ‘weird’ is something to be worried about here.”

“Hush!” He flicked his balled up straw wrapper at her, bouncing off her shoulder back onto the table. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, is all.”

“I think you should. With all the bullshit they have to hear, it sounds like they could use a friendly regular to look forward to.”

And that’s exactly what he’d do. He was going to become a regular. Questions of when exactly he would call and what he would say remained unanswered. But he was going to call in. He could figure the rest out when the time came.

When the screen finally switched to the now familiar dark basement, his heart skipped a beat. They looked so good tonight. There was something different about them, he couldn’t quite place it. Their makeup and hair seemed mostly the same, so did their outfit. They always looked so effortlessly disheveled and sexy, but tonight there was just an extra touch of glow to them.

As they started their normal show intro, it hit him.

“Alright, I have to talk about it. I got Disintegration. I have it right here to play tonight. It is just— God it’s so good.”

They were smiling.

They were smiling, and it was big and toothy and genuine, and the most beautiful thing Nate had ever seen.

“They are really back in full force with this whole album. I would love to hear the assholes who say they’re just pop garbage defend themselves after hearing this masterpiece.”

They gushed about this new album, unable to hide their passion behind the usual wall of manufactured apathy. Nate couldn’t help but smile himself.

“It might be too soon to say, but this might be my new favorite album. I mean, just listen to this—“ Zephyr pushed a few buttons and the first track started to play, quiet chimes that suddenly exploded into lush layered synths. “This does something to my soul, I swear.” They spoke above the music filling the room, eyes closed, that smile still on their face.

Nate wished, so badly, that he could just pull them out of the TV screen and kiss them right there. Or crawl in himself. Press them against that brick wall backdrop and smudge that perfect black lipstick of theirs.

Unfortunately the only thing that could connect them right now was the phone number flashing on the bottom of the screen.

Nate waited. He stole glances over to the phone for the next 15 minutes. Every time he told himself to hold on a little longer. Zephyr continued waxing poetic about their favorite tracks. He didn’t want to interrupt them. Not when they looked so happy. He grabbed the envelope still next to the couch and scribbled down the album name, adding to the list they gave him last time. Tomorrow seemed like a great time to stop by the record store.

“Oh fuck,” Zephyr stopped their rambling suddenly, glancing off screen for a moment. “I’ve already spent half my slot and I’m still going on about this…” Their demeanor quickly shifted from joy to embarrassment. They tried to put on their disinterested act again to cover it up. “Anyway, the album’s pretty good…”

Like a flash, Nate’s hand grabbed the phone.

Nate held the phone, the other line ringing in his ear, and watched. He saw Zephyr glance down at the switchboard. “Oh, uh. We have a caller I guess?” They pushed the button. “You’re on the air.”

“Hi!” He silently kicked himself for that same too chipper greeting. “It’s uh… it’s me again? I called last week?”

“Oh. Oh yeah.” Zephyr’s face lit back up with recognition. “You’re the one who asked for music recommendations, right?”

“Yeah, that was me! And I just added this one to my list.”

A twinge of validation washed over Zephyr’s face. “Yeah. I’d definitely tell you to check it out. I mean, you just heard me talking about it, of course I do.”

“I like what you’ve played of it!” Nate spent a split second milling over his next words, and whether or not it would be too much to say them. “I can tell you’re really happy about it. It’s easy to like it when it seems to make you feel like that.”

It was a few steps down from ‘I love your smile and I would love to make you smile like that for the rest of your life,’ but that was probably for the best.

Zephyr struggled to keep their composure, letting out a short breathy chuckle. “Well, you seem to care a lot more than the normals I’ve met.” They leaned back in their seat. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. You said last time you didn’t know anything about this stuff?”

“Not really. The only things I really know come from your show.”

“And you’ve still been watching me every week?”

“For a few months now, yeah.”

“No offense or anything but… What the hell are you doing here?” Zephyr laughed. “How’d you find this show in the first place?”

“It’s ok, I’m not offended! It’s a fair question.” Nate hesitated slightly before answering. “I uh… I found you by accident actually.” He debated telling the whole story. It would really be airing out some personal shit, on TV no less, but he thought it was probably worth it.

“I was in the hospital. And I was having a hard time sleeping, with the nurses coming in to check my vitals all night. So I turned on the little TV in my room and flipped around to see if anything was playing, and I came across your show.”

“Oh shit…” Zephyr looked genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something sensitive.”

“Oh no, it’s fine!” Nate reassured. “I just have pretty severe asthma. It puts me in the hospital sometimes, it’s not really a big deal.”

“Are you like… ok now?”

“For sure, I’m fine right now. I just had a bad attack and they were keeping me overnight. I’m pretty used to it by now.”

“Damn. Sorry you found this through such shitty circumstances.” They apologized, and for a moment Nate could see a real person behind the on-screen persona. “What made you stick around?”

“I’m… not totally sure. I just found you really compelling. I love when people talk about things they’re passionate about, even if I don’t know anything about it.”

It wasn’t a lie. It certainly wasn’t the whole truth either. But being honest would mean telling them how immediately captivated he was. How he turned that TV over to their show just in time to hear them telling a story about how they’d rented The Lost Boys from their local rental place so many times that the guy at the counter just told them to keep it, and how he was smitten instantly. How their beautiful, unique appearance drew him in, but their personality and the earnest enthusiasm in their eyes kept him watching.

Despite what Mick said, that would definitely be weird enough to worry about.

“Well uh… I’m glad I could compel you, I guess.” The authentic smile returned to their face for a brief second before it shifted into a smirk of fabricated confidence. “Nice to know I have that kind of effect on the normal folk.”

“Well you had that effect on me, big time. I’m not sure how normal I am in the eyes of everyone else, but I’m sure you would find me incredibly normal,” Nate exaggerated. “The most normal guy you’ve ever seen.”

Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? How normal are we talking?”

“Oh, like, majorly normal. I mean, ‘most of my clothes are from Sears’ normal. ‘I sing Belinda Carlisle in the shower’ normal.”

His attempts to turn that real smile into a real laugh were successful, with Zephyr looking down at their desk to avoid the camera while they had a small moment of unbridled laughter. “Got it,” they finally answered after regaining composure. “You have a name, normal guy?”

“I don’t mind ‘normal guy’,” he joked. “But, my name’s Nathan. You can call me Nate.”

“Alright,” Zephyr grinned. “Nice to meet you, Normal Nate.”

#I’ve decided to post these on Thursdays #bc that’s when Zeph’s show is in the fic #and I’m irritating like that lol #I’m so happy to be posting this somewhere #and excited to get to the good shit 😈#marisa writes #marisas ocs

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bluemoondust · 2 years

Text

✮Day 10✮ Cockwarming

˚⭒· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ft. Aizawa Shōta/Eraserhead — BNHA

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I didn't think I would write this much just for the slow burn to the prompt, but I actually do want to make a part two of this with it actually happening, so oof. But yeah,,, this is basically a slow burn.

Summary: It was a long time coming, if Aizawa had anything to say about this whole situation.

General + Warning(s): Stalking, Drugging, Noncon Touching, Kidnapping

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Aizawa can say he's a patient man, if asked, though he will admit that on certain days that patience runs thin. He can wait for what he's looking for without complaint; all good things come to those who do as the saying goes. What he didn't anticipate is how careless you were.

Every second he glances at you, it's the same. Someone who clearly doesn't know the true nature of the world... Or perhaps you do, but you certainly can't handle it on your own. It's a pity to hear about the little things in your life. A pro hero, living alone, in constant danger to potential people who could simply overpower you if you weren't careful enough. The downside of being a known hero, whether big or small, everyone knows who you are. Your name is out there, and that's all that someone needs to track you down.

It wasn't like Aizawa was putting you down, no, you misunderstand. Well, maybe he does view you as someone who doesn't know better in some aspects. He respects your somewhat wary nature. It's obvious that you're very aware of the potential dangers of the world. He's seen it when you refuse to give personal information to anyone like the press and such or when you keep your drink extra close to yourself. He chuckles at the sight.

No, there is some endearment towards you when he puts so much regard into the life you live. It's only because he cares, is what he tells himself. So, he tests you.

Aizawa wonders if you ever catch the little hints of someone ever trailing around you or how certain things in your home are shifted. If you did, then you're good at hiding that fact. He could imagine the possible expression on your face once it clicks to you. What measures will you take to calm your paranoia? Will you keep these concerns to yourself? Fight them on your own?

If you do, he simply shakes his head as he clicks his tongue. Well, aren't you careless. It's like you're begging for someone to help you. He just wished you'd use your words more than just give silent signs.

Oh, but what does get under his skin is when you're stubborn.

Empty promises of getting better sleep or remembering to eat causes a deep frown to form on his face. You're fine, you say. Everything is good, you tell them. Bullshit. Aizawa knows perfectly well that you stayed up later than usual to either do work or impulsively entertain yourself. Even so, the dark circles under your eyes and lack of focus would have given it away if he didn't know what you were doing the other night.

You certainly do like to push, or rather, avoid confrontation. Though it does still push his buttons either way.

If no one will get through that thick skull of yours, then he will before this behavior gets destructive.

"Hm? What's this for?" Your eyes were fixated on the treat and drink Aizawa had placed before you.

He took a sip of his own drink as he let out a breath. Working late again, aren't you? It wasn't necessary, but with your slight paranoia that someone was sneaking around your home, it's probably why. Avoiding it won't do anything. You'll never escape his sight.

"You skipped lunch."

Your lips formed a straight line while your brows furrowed. You really did forget. "Ah, yeah. Hero work has been keeping me busy lately." Nodding your head, you gave a soft smile, "Thank you, Eraserhead."

The pro hero glanced over what you're working on. Mostly likely relating to the pro you were working for. A part of him was glad you didn't have your own agency. It'd make things more difficult. Plus, too much work...

"Aizawa is fine. We're not on duty."

It seemed like you just remembered that the two of you weren't at a usual work setting and just in a regular coffee shop. You clear your throat, "Ah... Yes. Thank you, Aizawa. I appreciate the kind sentiment."

He gives you a nod, acknowledging your words even if his mind was elsewhere. To be completely honest, the gesture seemed a little out of nowhere for you. Aizawa and you have talked before—more times than you expected from someone like him. You seemed him as a fellow coworker and maybe a friend. Nothing beyond that. Still... It struck you as odd that he knew you skipped lunch, but you didn't ask for several reasons. Even so, he did go out of his way to buy something for you and despite your mind wondering if he wants something from you, you accept it.

Maybe it was obvious to him? He was someone who could pick up the smallest details, so it wouldn't be a stretch that he could simply read you in a matter of seconds.

You could hear him start to speak about work. Huh. This is the most you've talked with him. You didn't peg him as someone who regularly chatted. More aloof, as you'd describe.

His voice is soothing. Holding back a yawn, you decide to take a sip of the coffee he gave you to wake you up. It seems like the exhaustion is finally catching up with you. You just couldn't let him see you like this, it'd just bring more attention to yourself. That's something you don't want. He probably has so much on his plate.

You breathed out deeply after taking another sip, well, more like a few swigs. The tension slowly left your shoulders. Your mind paused for a moment, missing something Aizawa had relating to patrolling the streets. Perhaps a break is what you need. Sleeping a full eight hours in your cozy bed seemed good.

You shut your eyes.

"Right... Just sleep."

A sharp gasp escapes you as you open your eyes; heart rate picking up. Where... Was this? You fell asleep...? No, no wait! What time—?

Aizawa gently placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch and push yourself further away from him. You realize you had woken up in a bed that wasn't yours. "What's going on? Where am I?"

The amount of betrayal you felt wasn't to an extreme, but it still messed with you how someone like Aizawa would just do this. You may be reaching, but how could you not assume? Your guard was let down for just a moment and he just— took advantage. It wasn't betrayal, you suddenly corrected... It was just you feeling so stupid to let this happen. But you can't just wallow in self pity, you could still get out of this.

"You passed out from exhaustion. Even without the coffee, I still believe you would have collapsed in public." He lets out a sigh, "At least I was there before that could happen."

Why was he talking to you like everything was normal? As you further tensed up, you asked, "Aizawa... Where exactly am I?"

He figured you were heavily on guard, so he approached this gently. Any wrong move can cause you to do something reckless. Like try and bolt to the door. Aizawa made sure to keep eye contact with you as he spoke.

"You're in my home. As I said, you passed out at the coffee shop and I decided to take you in." Now comes what he'll do next. He knows your mind will start to race with many thoughts. Some might be unsavory, but eventually you'll excuse yourself to leave.

He can't let you go.

"Th-Thank you, Aizawa." You finally mustered out your appreciation, even if you still felt uneasy about the situation. You just wanted to go home. "Sorry for the inconvenience. I will take my leave."

"You can't."

His words shot through you, despite them holding no edge to them. "Wh—"

"It's dark out. You'll likely be jumped by a stranger if you go out there late at night. It'd be better to stay the night."

You frowned, "I'm fine. I can manage." You eyes looked to the ground, pondering for a second. "I can just call someone to pick me up."

Without looking up, you could just feel his stare burning into you. A part of you wanted to curl up in a ball, avoid him all together. Nothing you told yourself could reassure you nor calm down your fears at this point. You could continue to push him away, but it seemed to draw him further.

You probably knew from the moment you woke up that you weren't going to leave this place. Denial was something you always leaned towards, anyway. Continuously trying to avoid your knowledge of reality at any given point. It gave some form of escapism.

So why didn't you just give in? A thought that ran through both your minds as instinct took over, pushing yourself off the bed and towards the bedroom door. A small shard of hope may have willed you into doing this, but of course, reality had to drag you back down.

Aizawa managed to grab your ankle with his capture weapon, tripping you over. You let a small yelp as you tumbled down with a soft thud. Even so, your arms stretched out to pull your body forward. Your eyes grew heavy. What did he do to you?

"It seems like there are still some effects from the coffee... Or it's just the lack of sleep. You allowed yourself to become this exhausted to the point where you can't fight back. If you were to try and do hero work in such a state, you'd be putting yourself in danger."

He approached your body and gently picked you up. You protested, but there wasn't much effort put into it. Just as much as you could muster out. You didn't like how silent he was either as his eyes looked over you.

"I will arrange something for you when you wake up. You need to learn. I have some work to do and I can't afford to leave you to yourself." He carried you back to the bed, tucking you in as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

You weren't sure what he'd do to you, but it didn't want to think too much into you. With a kiss on your forehead, Aizawa moved himself away and towards his desk. All you could hear was his muttering before sleep washed over you.

The feeling of something tickling the nape of your neck woke you up. It'd be the second you did here. You became alert once you realized you weren't on the bed anymore as your back pressed against a firm surface. In front of you was a desktop computer, your eyes had to adjust to the sudden brightness. Aizawa's arms were on either side of your body, caging you against him as you sat comfortably (or as much as you were) on his lap. He was clicking away at the keyboard. The cherry on top was his head nonchalantly plopped onto your shoulder; the texture of his stubble scratching at your neck.

Sensing your wakefulness, he gives a nudge to your neck. "I won't be as harsh this time because you're barely adjusting. So... We'll go about this as a punishment with an opportunity for a reward. I just want you to realize why you're getting a punishment, then if you're really good and apologize, you'll be rewarded. Sound fair?"

Only after a few seconds after he finished speaking did your mind catch up to his words. You were confused and scared. "Aizawa, please... Just, let me go. I won't say anything—"

"I know you won't, darling. You kept many things to yourself. Now, you're going to confess to what you did wrong."

"What do you mean? What did I do?"

A heavy sigh escapes his lips, which causes you to shudder as his breath brushes against your neck. "Slide your bottoms off."

It felt like the world went on pause to you. The weight of his words shook you to the core as heat emitted from your face. You wished he was joking, that this was all a dream.

A light swat to your thigh brought you back to reality. "Come on. The sooner you do this, the sooner I'll get my work done and we can get to bed." Aizawa removes his hands from the desk and gets to unbuckling his belt, the sound further raising your heart rate.

With a shaky breath, you slowly reached to the band of your bottoms and underwear. If your hunch was right, this was what he wanted and it made you even more anxious. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, but the thought of what would happen if you didn't obey honestly scared you more. You mentally kicked yourself for going so slow in sliding down your clothing. It would have been better to just slip them off immediately; rip the bandaid off and get it over with. However, you were dreading what was to come... So you figured a part of you just wanted to delay the inevitable.

As soon as those were off, the most private parts of your body now exposed, you felt him lift you up a bit as he slid his pants and boxers down. His cock was now revealed and pressing up against your lower back. You shifted on his lap, squeezing your legs together.

Aizawa proceeds to lift you up by your hips, the tip ghosting below you. "I'll be doing some work for about an hour. Just sit still on my cock until I'm done, okay? No squirming or complaining. I'll add extra time if you do. If you're good..." He slowly lowers you down, letting you feel every inch of him enter you before he kisses your cheek.

"... I'll let you cum."

#kinktober 2022 #kinktober #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere aizawa shouta #yandere eraserhead #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere aizawa x reader #bnha smut #yandere smut #aizawa x reader #yandere bnha imagines #bnha imagines #bnha x reader

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