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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Drawn Together 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A current of anxiety ripples around you. Since that day Steve came to your home. That day you foolishly let him inside. A tension made worse by your avoidance.

You haven’t called him. You’ve thought of it. You even thought of emailing but that was just as intimidating. You just don’t want to ever deal with him again. So you’ll say nothing and hope he takes the hint.

That also means you need a new student to take his spot. In the meantime, you can make due with the reduced income. You’re always smart about finances. As mindful and scrutinous as every other aspect in your life.

A whole week goes by. You feel the dread whittling away little by little. It feels like any other day as you wait for Caroline to drop off Freddy for his lesson. Despite being prone to distraction, he’s one of your most naturally gifted students. You enjoy those days when he manages to sit still. It’s worth the extra bit of patience you need to get him to focus.

You put a new bouquet of carnations in the window. The scent adds another layer of warmth to the sun streaming between the open curtains. It takes you back to the summers you spent there with your grandfather and his antique radio. It makes you miss him even more.

The doorbell chimes and your skirt billows around your legs as you descend. Teaching helps keep your mind off the shadow that follows you around. Another ghost that haunts these walls and your dreams. Just last night, you woke at nocturnal vision of his tattooed hands reaching for you.

No. It’s fine. It’s fine. He has no reason to return.

“Carol–”

You open the door and your voice lumps in your throat. It isn’t Caroline, it’s someone else. It’s as if he’s been summoned by your denial. You grip the door handle tight as Steve greets you with a bouquet of poppies.

“What… are you doing here?” You eke out.

He grins, “I didn’t hear from you so I thought I’d drop in. Just to say hi. I figured you’re a busy lady so you must’ve forgot to give me a call.”

His tone is light but with a weight hidden between his words. Like he knows something you don’t. He’s so certain it fills you with doubt.

“Uh, well, er, Steve,” you stammer, “it’s nice of you to check in but I’m expecting a student.”

“I understand. I just am so excited to learn more so I wanted to schedule my next lesson and you said yourself that I should keep at if I want to get better so–”

“Look, I, erm,” your words are stunted, painfully as they rise in wispy breaths, “I’m sorry I didn’t call but I’m at capacity.”

He watches you. His cheek dimples and the silver patch in his beard, just along his chin, catches the sunlight. He holds out the poppies in the cone of brown paper.

“I brought you your favourite,” he insists.

“That’s all very nice,” you reply, “but I’m sorry. I can’t take on any new students right now. There’s a music studio I can recommend, I have their number. My cousin works there and he’s brilliant at piano–”

“No,” he says bluntly, keeping the poppies hovering before you. “I don’t want a studio. I want you.”

“Really, I can’t. The flowers are pretty but I…” your voice quavers as his gaze bores into you. You chew your lip as you try to muster the next excuse.

“Would you quit chewing your lip and tell me the truth?” His timbre takes on a new edge and chokes the air from your chest.

“I am,” you murmur, “I’m– I should’ve told you but I lost track of… time.”

“And yesterday? At capacity. You didn’t have a single student.”

“Wha– how would you–”

“Hey, sorry I’m running a bit beh–” Caroline’s trill carries up the walk as she rushes up with Freddy’s hand in hers. She gasps and stops short, “oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I got caught up at doctor’s office and I know we’re late.”

You notice how she eyes Steve from head to toe. There’s a line of disapproval in her forehead as she stares at his arms. He’s unbothered as he doesn’t even turn around.

“It’s fine,” you step to the left to see around Steve, “I have everything ready–”

“We’re not done, sweetheart,” Steve snarls as he forms a barrier between you and Caroline. “You’re going to stand here and lie to me. Refuse the gift I brought you.”

“I told you. I’m just one person and I can’t handle any more students,” you put on your most stringent tenor, for Caroline and Freddy. You don’t want to cause them any panic. “Thank you.”

“That’s not what your post said online.”

“It’s old. I forgot–”

“You keep forgetting a lot.”

“Please, go. I have a lesson now.”

He huffs and drops his hand, hanging the flowers petals down as he sneers and turns to look at Caroline. He squares his shoulders and descends the steps one at a time. He marches up to her as Freddy cowers and clings to her arm, mommy.”

“Be careful with this con artist,” Steve grits out, “she’ll take your deposit and run. Trust me.”

You frown and bluster forward. He carries on down the sidewalk and you babble dumbly. Caroline looks at you then at Freddy as he fidgets. She turns to watch Steve cross the street as he tosses the flowers on the road. You follow her eyeline and stand frozen at his angry display.

He puts his helmet on and straddles the large motorcycle by the curb. He kicks the stand up and starts the engine, the roar cutting through the air starkly. You quake with the rumble as he revs and tears out, running over the bouquet as he tears off down the avenue.

“I–” you begin, “I’m so sorry, Caroline. I don’t even know–”

There’s a sniffle and sob. You both look down at Freddy as he begins to cry, “mommy, I’m scared.”

“Shhh,” Caroline turns and squats down to comfort him, wiping his tears with her thumbs. “It’s okay, Freddy, come on.”

She draws him into a hug and you flit down the steps.

“You okay, Freddy?” You bend slightly as you try to get his attention. “How about you come inside and have a few cookies?”

“Please,” Caroline snaps at you, “I think we’re going to cancel this week’s lesson.”

“He won’t come back–”

“Look, I don’t know the type of men you hang around and frankly I don’t care,” she stands up and inserts herself in front of her son, “but when they scare my son, I have to be concerned about leaving him with you.”

“Really, I barely know him–”

“Please, keep your escapades to yourself,” she shows her palm dismissively. “You know, if you’re going to have kids here, you need to be careful who you bring around.”

“I don’t— I don’t know him.”

She scoffs and flicks you away like a gnat. She turns and tugs Freddy with her down the walk. You bring your hands to your throat in horror and sputter. Oh no, another empty slot. You might have to dip into your savings. Worse, you don’t know if they’ll even come back next week.

You drop your shoulders as you watch Caroline put Freddy in the car. As bad as the missing money, you looked forward to the company. You bite into your lip as doom stabs in your gut.

You wince and lean back on your heel. You reach out to lean on the pillar, your other hand falling to your stomach as nausea stirs. Steve’s words replay in your head.

Yesterday? How did he know? You were so caught up in the moment, you hadn’t truly felt the impact of those words.

He has been watching you.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #drawn together #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #au #tattoo au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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xbittersweetnightshadex · 2 months

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Hello again, Tumblr! 🖤 c: After thinking on it for some time, I made the decision this year to sort of step out into the world again. Between some very heavy back-to-back personal stuff, a serious hit to my career goals courtesy of the many post-pandemic changes that negatively impacted freelancers and small business owners, and the increasing hostility and lifelessness of the current digital landscape, I had stepped away for quite a while. This year, I'm ready to try again, despite where we're at as a society currently.

For the moment, Tumblr feels like this sort of last bastion of authenticity in a sea of filters, manufactured personalities, and algorithms that seem to favor and encourage our demise. Not that Tumblr doesn't have its own set of problems. Nothing is quite like it used to be, that's for sure. Times are strange, to say the least.

Anyway, I'll be on other platforms, too, sharing thoughts and projects and such, but I'll probably be the most active here for the time being - at least until something gives and a better platform comes along or I build my own (which is not a joke, actually; I'm doing this). But in the meantime! If any friends are still active here and would like to send me fun posts from time to time or just chitchat and catch up on here, please do so. I'll be around pretty regularly from here on out. c:

I think I'm also going to pin this post for a while, so I guess I should put some links here, too. :x If anyone is interested in keeping up with my projects - my artwork, my writing, my spiritual work, my boutique, or any other things I may take on in this lifetime - you can click here to visit my personal website. You can also subscribe there to receive email notifications whenever I post a new article, which is usually updates, but also ramblings and poetic prose from time-to-time. I also have websites dedicated solely to my creative projects (Dezydration) and solely to my spiritual work (The Witchy Housewife) at this time, if you're more interested in one or the other. Alternatively, you can check out this page for links to literally everywhere I am online right now, which will remain regularly updated as that presence shifts.

I look forward to coming out of my lil turtle shell. 🐢 I hope this year is better for all of us, 'cause it's been rough. Love you guys! 🖤

#dezy speaks #updates

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shwarmii · 10 months

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hi, i'm @/shwarmi, and tumblr tERMINATED MY BLOG (AND ALL MY SIDE-BLOGS WITHOUT WARNING ME) and i messaged them to get it back but idk when theyll get back to me, so here i am in the meantime, hello, i guess this is my back-up account now, yes, my url is a pun on Roman numerals, anyway, sure do fucking hope i gET MY BLOG BACK JFC

edit: i've been filling out a ticket form about Account Termination once a day (here's the link to it if you ever need help finding it for yourself in the future; please don't try to help me via spamming the ticket form or anything, they explicitly ask to not involve other people uninvolved in your account AND i feel bad enough doing spam once a day already; but, anyway, yes, i recommend doing what i did and having bookmarked the aforementioned link and just copy&paste my form answers into the ticket from a seperate document, like from Google Drive or something, so you don't have to retype it everytime), and i have recieved no reply nor even a confirmation e-mail. hence the lack of updates on how my account is doing. there's no other way to contact staff, except maybe via Twitter, as their support e-mail is no longer accepting messages (hopefully bc of the following they will be in contact with you sooner than they have been with me, bc i didnt know this following tip this past week i've been filling out that ticket and noW YOU DO, you lucky bastard. do what i did with a seperate document to prep in case this is a multi-day process, but hopefully you'll get farther in less time than i have bc jfc i wasn't even getting a confirmation e-mail beforehand big McYikes)

BUT!!1! a friend of mine who was terminated last year said to attach my un-terminated e-mail's account (aka the e-mail i am using right here for @/shwarmii, and not for the terminated @/shwarmi like i had been doing liKE A DUMMY APPARENTLY) to the ticket's general "Put your e-mail here" slot and to explain within "The more details, the better" part your original e-mail attached to the terminated account in addition to the rest of your explanation. and i finally got a confirmation e-mail that my ticket has been recieved! yes, it was just an automated response but yay! finally!! progress!!1! i at least got a fUCKING CONFIRMATION E-MAIL, HAHA, VICTORY!

god i fucking wish i knew about the "just dont use your e-mail linked to your terminated account" tip a week ago jfc on a hot dog stick, my guys, finally, a confirmation e-mail, gahhh

since i now have a confirmation e-mail, i will wait five buisness days (so today is the 8th and a Monday, therefore, i'll wait until Saturday which is the 12th except i said "business days" ergoooo Monday the 14th) to e-mail them again. i hate waiting tho ughhh like, fine, i'll do what i gotta do but also ugghhhhh

↳ additional note: this update/edit was made on 8 August 2023. @/shwarmi has been terminated since 31 July 2023 (or 30 July 2023, and i just was too exhausted to make the account/post until the 31st. i forget. i was in the middle of moving and im disabled, so i was over-exerting myself big-time. i had processed that my account had been terminated at the time and just responded by taking a nap lmao rip but yeah, therefore, it's all been a blur)

NOTHING HAS HAPPENED. COOL. (Narrator: It was not, in fact, "cool".) I WAITED AS PLANNED (this update is being written on 14 August 2023) AND STILL NO FOLLOW-UP TO MY CONFIRMATION TICKET. HATE THAT FOR ME.

instead of sending in a new ticket as i originally planned, i replied to their confirmation email since it said i could do that (for permalinks or whatever) so that they will HOPEFULLY get back to me without me having to be a pest about their automated systems, ugh.. (i have cropped out my email and the Ticket Number(? i assume that's what that string if letters and numbers are anyway) for privacy reasons, but here is what the confirmation e-mail looks like and how i replied. i am including this mostly to help out anyone who may be terminated in the future have an idea of what to expect and an expectation of "OH, okay, so i can reply to THIS email-address, got it" kind of nonsense or whatever. why not lmao)

i will wait another five buisness days, so that'll be on the 21st of August 2023. hopefully, i will update with good news before then (aka: they'll haVE REPLIED MAYBE PLS PLS PLS) but i guess i will have to be annoying if not

it is the 20th (so they have one more day before i have to be annoying anD I DONT WANNA BE.. pls send me ideas of how to be annoying that doesnt include the Hateful Xitter pls, my only idea is to DM them there and i dON'T WANNA) and even my gmail thinks the lack of response is fucked up lmao rip

having a Bad Brain Day streak rn due to my (abusive) dad's failing health and unpacking and all this other shit i have to do post-moving like switching my insurance and renewing my liscence and fuck all, so bothering tumblr about not replying to me is gonna take a bit more of a backseat for a minute, hold on

it.. is now August 30. brain still in gutter, but i forced myself to make a xitter/twitter (don't follow, ill delete the account after they help me or not). and it wouldnt let me dm, so i had to just @ them and post. brain so sad that i cannot even be amused rn that @/shwarmi on there was taken by a shwarma restaurant. @/tumblrsupport's Replies tab shows signs of helping people as recently as 2 hrs ago, but idk if there's another queue here. i guess we'll find out?? i just want my accounts with all their posts and shit back pls, this has taken so long to try to do 💔

edit: if you're curious, it is 3 Sept 2023 and i am still waiting (it looks like they are looking at people who @'ed them on Sept 1 rn and iM LIKE "PLSSSS, I @'ED YOU ON THE 30TH OF AUGUST PLSSSSSSS", gonna give them until the 5th before i tweet again i guess 🥺)

i am not god's strongest soldier. i continue to cry out for help, alas, i have yet to receive an answer

it does not help that the twitter account sometimes says to people: "What is your Tumblr URL? We can check and see if there was a glitch of some sort. But be advised that if it is a TOS violation situation or a bigger tech issue, we cannot assist/reply on Twitter" so that doesnt make me panic aT ALL that maybe i broke TOS without any form of a warning or knowledge that i wasnt following tumblr's terms of services regarding things like nsfw and whatnot (narrator: they were panicking)

i hate it here. staff should at least be able to tell me (via email, if not twitter) that i wont be getting my account back or whatever else instead of just saying NOTHING??????

going to do all this again (tweet support, make a whole new ticket (i still have the info saved thankfully), reply to my old email confirmation) on September 27th (an arbitrary date based on I Have A Lot Going On Rn) if they continue to not reply. if i hit the 30 images limit, guess ill be reblogging and adding even MORE to this thread jfc juST TALK TO MEE!!!1!

#me #shwarmi #never have i been so glad that i have a google doc of mcs and all the i.f. games theyre from &&& also #how much i screenshot from tumblr to tell me who i was following before lmao rip

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riverdale-retread · 2 years

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Riverdale S6B Ep #109 (“Venomous”)

This was one of the most enjoyable, Riverdale-esque Riverdale episode (admiring!) in a good while, but at the same time, unholy mother of maple spiders, it made me so nervous for everyone (meaning, the characters AND the various fandoms).

Jughead asks us to consider the downsides of having superpowers while he’s shifting through boxes of comic books about superpowered heroes. Betty in the meantime is suffering debilitating headaches as she looks over childhood photo albums in an attempt to get in touch with her own memories. Veronica is applying a very black lipstick while Archie confronts Percival standing shoulder to shoulder with Reggie, both of them with no good plans for the precious diner. (Where the hell is Tabitha and why have they removed her from the story all this time?).

Reggie snapping back at everyone who treats him with disrespect (which is literally everyone other than Percival, and they really need to examine that, these Riverdale High alums) puts me in this awkward position of being for something that Percival wants, just so I get more of Reggie telling people off. The other thing that I am beginning to like Percival for is that he can meet Archie where he is - threatening him right back for eye-to-eye violence and giving Archie the novel experience of being physically afraid of someone in his life, where he has thus far always been the scary one. Percival has forged a palladium knuckle ring.

Nana Rose isn’t dead! (I’m always lowkey worried Nana Rose might die.) She is however very sick of hearing Cheryl go on about “the lost love” from middle school, Heather. Cheryl, darling, you were what, 13 or 14 when you had this ‘relationship’ with Heather. You have to stop. In any case, Cheryl has discovered that Heather lives in Greendale and is a librarian. Greendale still has a library, unlike Riverdale!

Against sensible advice from her grandmother to let things be, Cheryl gravely consults a Magic 8 Ball (“O Sphere O’ Knowledge”) yet even that plastic object refuses to give her the go ahead, so she ignores it to send an email to Heather. (Cheryl having absolutely no business further with Toni is very strange, but everyone is ‘mining’ their teen years in this episode so I suppose Cheryl has no choice but to succumb to the zeitgeist.)

Archie consults with Jughead about Percival. He doesn’t want to “play constant defense,” a turn of phrase which amusingly horrifies Jughead into using comic metaphors. This bit of pretension is very cute. It’s almost impossible to speak efficiently in American vernacular English without using sports metaphors even if you don’t play any yourself. (For example, I had no idea that ‘throw in the towel’ described an actual action and in boxing until I saw it on tv where a coach ran up to the ring to really toss a towel onto the floor of the ring to rescue his defeated fighter).

Then Jughead, hoping against hope that Archie was both listening and still remembers the way Jughead was the only one to bare his soul in response to Cheryl’s questions last episode about how Percival’s malicious magic was manifesting in their lives, tries to talk about being a blocked artist who is terrified he’s going to die alone as a one-book wonder.

In response to Archie’s passing remark that he didn’t know Jughead was enough into comic books to have at least four boxes’ worth, Jughead launches into a whole story about himself. He says he is (a) in touch with his mom who is (b) in Toledo who (c ) somehow still bothered to keep things that were of worth to Jughead without pawning them and (d) did what he asked when he requested that she send them over. Gladys Jones did all this? Really???

Archie has a flashback to Rivervale because Jughead Riverdale uses the same vocabulary and syntax as the Rivervale one.

Very gingerly, Jughead assays, “After that stuff with my grandpa only writing one book” as a way to try to get Archie to care about his existential crisis, all bound up with his artistic ambitions. It’s so heartbreaking. Archie, of course, does not give a shit. As soon as Jughead gets this far, Archie immediately picks up a comic book in an attempt to find something more interesting to discuss. He has absolutely no response to Jughead saying he wants to go into creative writing of some kind again, any kind, regardless of genre.

Archie only wants to know how he can beat Percival (literally and metaphorically). He asks how a fictional superhero (Superman) with a similar affliction overcame it (fatally sensitivity to Kryptonite). It’s so meta it makes me dizzy. Archie is a fictional character (“Ce n’est pas une pipe!”) who I have to take as a real person in order to watch the show, but then now that he’s a superhero with a Superman-like weakness, Archie is shown consulting actual comic books that exist about Superman in my world (actual) to get information about how he should behave in his world. Fake- real Archie Andrews consulting real-fake-but-real Superman comics for his known reality.

Jughead is so used to this cruel rudeness and self absorption from his beloved best friend (keywords like GRANDPA and ONLY ONE BOOK got roundly ignored!) that he simply answers the questions that are asked, spilling out everything he knows about superheros building up immunity to toxic substances. Archie decides to tap Cheryl for palladium so he can try it too.

Speaking of toxic substances: The entire Veronica Lodge story involving her toxins is a hilarious COVID-19 metaphor. I genuinely, sincerely loved every bit of this.

The next scene starts with Dr. Curdle Jr. wearing the PPT face shield that we’re all now used to looking at a mundane item. Veronica wears a veil covering her face. It looks very stylish but it’s also commentary on the Western debate about the efficacy of face coverings as protection against communicable disease. Veronica acts like this net veil is actually somehow protective of others throughout this episode when clearly, it can’t possibly be.

Dr. Curdle Jr. (who in Rivervale was OBGYN) has tested Veronica’s saliva, tears, blood, sweat (but not, urine, feces or other secretions). She’s fully toxic. He wonders how she hasn’t died yet. She’s an asymptomatic carrier, that’s why! He prescribes dialysis in addition to recommending social isolation. (“avoid any and all physical contact”).

Meanwhile, Betty seeks out Jughead’s help. “I need your help, Jug.”

You know how there’s people who have a fear of intimacy and are like, connection avoidant? Jughead and Betty are, with each other, the exact opposite of that. The word that occurs to me is co-dependant but I don’t think that’s the right antonym.

Jughead enters almost every relationship with an intention to imprint on that person for life. The only exception we’ve ever seen to this rule is Jess, and that may be because Jess is shown canonically to be things the show Riverdale really dislikes (drug dealer, for one, and the destroyer of books, for another).

Betty for her part is willing to peel the very skin off her skull to get at the truth. She is asking Jughead to literally invade her subconscious mind. This is more naked than naked. Betty has never lacked for courage, but oh my gosh this was a LOT. I almost jumped out of my chair from discomfort at this concept, but she asks it like she’s asking him to maybe pull hair out of a clogged drain, like it’s a little gross, but not dangerous or unreasonable. It’s either desperation or courage - or maybe, just, courage borne of desperation?

Jughead has a similarly relaxed reaction to her absolutely monumental ask. He makes a witty and true joke about how it feels like ‘a trap,’ in the vein of an intimate partner pretending they really want the truth when they don’t. He’s been through some life experiences, obviously. It made me laugh.

Both Betty and Jughead (well, mostly Jughead) talk a lot about how Archie is the One True Good Person On the Planet or whatever, but when push comes to shove, Betty knows that Jughead is her safe person. The qualm I have is that the events of the episode show that Betty may not be a safe place for anyone, including Jughead, so the imbalance that consistently bothers me about Bughead resurfaced in this post-Bughead intimacy. The help that Bughead give each other is unilateral, still, even now, flowing from Jughead towards Betty. It makes me think of Jughead having to ask Tabitha, simultaneously wondering and suspicious, “Why are you so nice to me?” because he’s just not used to people helping him out.

Namely - this ask serves Betty a lot and Jughead not at all. Betty COULD GO TO THERAPY for a lot of this work, but she has a) trust issues (except for Jughead, apparently, which then makes me ask all the questions about everything that apparently happened in the time jump) and b) a not unreasonable desire to not go nor send family members to prison for murder-related crimes. So she uses Jughead. Because he’s Jughead and he knows all of Betty’s issues, Jughead takes on too much and agrees to research ‘deep mind reading’ so he can help Betty out.

I can’t help but recall Jughead did not at any point go to or tell Betty about his hearing loss, just, at all. He knows what her powers are, in addition to the fact (according to Tabitha) that he’s slated to die sometime in the coming months if not weeks, but he hasn’t asked her to channel that on his behalf either. I mean, I find it hard to accept that Betty’s power is so absolutely self serving - that people only glow red when they are directly harmful to Betty Cooper alone, because that’s actually very damning.

Archie punches his fists bloody at the gym. He is just so scary.

Cheryl lends Archie a chunk of palladium. Since last episode, Cheryl has been trying to claw her way back from her Trapped In My House narrative ghetto by being the plot-device exposition witch. Though she says things in a kind and calm tone of voice, the stuff that Cheryl says are such disses on Archie. Such as- You’re messing with forces “far beyond your understanding” because admittedly, Archie’s understanding of anything is quite limited! She offers to aid in his search to find a solution to his debilitating palladium allergy. Meanwhile, Archie wears the chunk of palladium as a pendant.

While Archie is bleeding from a physical reaction to something uniquely poisonous to him, Veronica is attempting to have her blood detoxified because she is poisonous to everyone. She’s following her doctor’s advice even though she feels fine - an exemplary a symptomatic sufferer, as it were. A lackey informs her that the shareholders are being very fussy, refusing to honor her request that they push back the shareholder meeting. “It’s their funeral,” she says.

Nana Rose contemplates an interesting recent painting of Cheryl’s. A headless redhead holds a giant black spider to her bosom. Cheryl asks if she’s seen the book on Rasputin, and Nana Rose reading it. Primly, Cheryl says she needs the tome for research, to which Nana Rose bitchily points out that this may all be a desperate ploy for Cheryl avoid thinking about Heather’s lack of a response to her email. Nana Rose pronounces the word email with the emphasis on the word ‘mail,’ which I’ve never ever heard before. Did you know Nana Rose knows how to send emails?? Apparently she always gets prompt responses to hers. Cheryl isn’t having it - calls her baba yaga (which I think is inapt.)

At the Andrews House, Archie reluctantly reveals the state of his hands to Betty. She yells at him about not taking proper care of himself. Archie’s obsession with not being weak in comparison to Percival makes it impossible for him to not poison himself. Betty resignedly opens a can (of worms??) for Archie.

The shareholder meeting going on at the Babylonium bring Veronica out for a visit. She’s all decked out all in black - black clothes complete with the veil, black lipstick, eyeliner and nails. Reggie kind of has a hard time recognizing her. Reggie is sitting in the central CEO position, so he lists all his grievances. 1. Reggie being removed as co COO. 2. That the casino is not turning a profit. 3. Veronica looking insane.

The shareholders have been offered money to sell out the casino from under her. She is going to put together a new valuation. As Reggie and the all male board sneer at Veronica’s departing back, Jughead is back with Betty, reporting on all the work he’s done in trying to figure out how to do the deep dive into her mind.

Principles of “meditation, hypnotherapy, guided visualization” are the same according to Jughead. He’s still reluctant to call the power he has his ‘power’ - mostly because it’s so uncool probably. The prompt Jughead gives Betty is to imagine her memories as being a box of comic books that Jughead can leaf through. He is such a dork (I love him) - he blurts out “Let’s go Digging” as though he’s not about to do some amateur hour advanced psychotherapy with a highly disturbed woman. They have to hold hands while they do this which convinces me that what Jughead is doing is just full on magic. Therapists (real ones) don’t have to touch you when they uncover your stuff.

Jughead is now in Betty’s mind. The first issue of the “Betty” comic that he pulls drops him into the scene of their first kiss. Oh that was such a good, sweet first kiss they had, wasn’t it? Nostalgia feels (and also suspicion about when the show makers knew the show would be canceled after 7 seasons and started to just get lazy and dip into the B-reel but this is very mean of me and I will stop). Betty interrupts his fascinated reverie. The strange ropey sound that Jughead hears when he emerges from the vision is very creepy.

Dip back into another memory. The one where Betty is prompted by the presence of Dagwood and Juniper as babies to wonder if evil is her inevitable destiny. (The fact that Dag & Juni are in later seasons shown to be budding sociopaths does not bode well). Betty weeps about this, and a banged up Jughead reassures her (God, remember how he used to sport bruises all the time?)

When Betty urges Jughead to go even deeper, they do a really cool visual thing where Jughead, eyes shut in fervid concentration, moves past and ‘into’ Betty’s space. The main indication that he’s gotten to the ‘next level’ is the visual and sound effect of Betty killing the cat. Hal, after this horrible action he forced her into, took her to the Diner for milkshakes. He calls the cat (who ran away because THEY DIDN’T KEEP HER INDOORS LIKE THEY SHOULD’VE and got hit by a car because of THEIR NEGLIGENCE) ‘a sinner.’ Hal, clearly in a very happy mood because his child killed something, wants Betty to tell him that it was exciting. We don’t get to see if she tried to appease him, because the next thing we see is Betty defining what happened to her as being groomed by her father to become a killer.

Betty insists that Jughead must keep digging, and has absolutely no concern for the fact that he blatantly looks like he’s going to vomit at the thought. Jughead is a little better at boundaries than he would’ve been as a kid - he says a very polite, Okay BUT! And asks for a break, amending with “Both of us” because he’s scared of Betty. Jughead alone needing a break wouldn’t fly here.

Meanwhile, Archie is looking horrendously ill from wearing the horcrux (palladium pendant). Cheryl, playing witchy nurse, has made him PALLADIUM SOUP and calls it YUMMY which I found hilarious. Yummy for whom? And how? She brings up Rasputin as a useful example for Archie. For his part, Archie, bless him, seems to take comfort in the fact that Rasputin couldn’t be poisoned and instead had to be drowned. I would like to one day see an AU in which Archie and Cheryl are soulmates because this was utterly insane an exchange and I loved it.

Reggie, permanent henchman is sitting at the right hand (almost) of Percival when Veronica barges into Percival’s residence to yell at Reggie. Percival seems to find Veronica’s dismissal of him kind of a turn on. Reggie for his part is still on extreme truth telling mode: “You can’t imagine me doing something, anything for myself, can you?” He’s finally angry enough to yell at Veronica, announcing that it was he who engineered the attempted ouster of Veronica from her own casino. Veronica just lets him have it - she calls him insecure, ignorant, petty - and at the same time exudes her toxic fumes directly at Reggie. Spraying minute particulates at Reggie’s face induces a nose bleed. Freaked out, Veronica runs away mid rant.

Two things:

1. I WISH I COULD DO THIS. I WANT THIS POWER. CAN I HAVE THIS? PLEASE? I DON’T EVEN MIND IF IT POISONS MY VAGINA. PLEASE GIVE ME THIS.

2. This is Riverdale doing the best, most amusing, most interesting reference to the COVID 19 pandemic possible on American television. Well done, bravo, spectacular. I say this with my entire chest even though at this point I do not watch any other show. But I’m absolutely certain no other show has done this particular metaphor in this specific way.

Cheryl’s palladium soup at first seems to help Archie but then it rapidly does not and he faints at the gym.

Veronica gives Dr. Curdle Jr a second visit, still pretending that her netted veil functions as a mask. (Veronica Lodge is an anti-masker!) I find this very interesting because clearly Curdle is all decked out in PPE. The thing is, when you make the coroner your personal doctor, he’s just going to continually predict death. So Dr. Curdle Jr tells Veronica she’s doomed.

Cheryl in her mansion has a big landline phone that is in the actual shape and color of her plush lips. She’s sitting in a red tartan skirt on a wine red sofa tapping into an oxblood personal computer and I am completely overwhelmed by the red aesthetic. I adore Cheryl Blossom’s character design. But even the great Cheryl Blossom is unable to obtain a red Magic 8 ball. The mundane black one keeps telling her to not contact Heather. She ignores the express instructions of the oracle. She calls Heather, who picks up on almost the first ring. I am going to assume that she’s evil just from this. Cheryl hangs up on her in a panic.

Archie has gone from getting denser and heavier to getting porous & sparse.

I am not sure how to understand the juxtaposition between what’s happening to Archie and Betty sarcastic-cheerfully asking Jughead if he’s ready for Round 2 of the mind reading service he’s providing her. He says a very verbose answer that amounts to NO and she bulldozes over that and forces him to continue. The memory that Jughead is yanked into is one where Betty overhears Hal exulting over Alice telling him that she has the MAOA serial killer gene. The word that keeps getting bandied about with regards to Hal and Betty is ‘excitement’ - Alice asks if he’s ‘excited’ that Betty might have this gene mutation.

Betty interjects with MY MOM IS WORSE THAN MY DAD. (I will stand by my agreement with her on this. Hal was in a lot of ways the better parent, he really was.) Just then, Veronica calls Betty for drinks, and Betty immediately agrees (and doesn’t invite Jughead).

Archie is emptying Palladium Soup from a jar STRAIGHT INTO Riverdale’s sewage system (is this wise?) to the lyrics of the soundtrack, which bellow: “Your god he ain’t no forgiver” and “He’s going to burn you alive” (like Cheryl?). He gets a call from Betty to join him at the bar.

So then Betty, Veronica and Archie meet at the bar to down a TON of shots. So. This is tacit acknowledgment then that all of the core four know that Jughead has a serious drinking problem. Well that’s nice.

When Veronica laments that she is cursed with the kiss of death, Archie welcomes her to the sad superhero club. Then Betty says something interesting: WE’RE not in any danger from you. You would have an aura.

So. Betty’s power DOES extend to people who mean homicide towards someone other than herself. Archie is under the aegis of Betty’s power. (Is Jughead not??) At this, Veronica lifts her netted veil.

SHE REALLY IS AN ANTI MASKER. Like, girl! Veronica! Ver-o-ni-ca! That is not how masks work! Why is she acting like Lana del Rey? Veronica voices the terror that those of us who took COVID 19 seriously felt: “If I touch someone or spit on them or cry on them, THEY DIE.” Veronica is carrying all the loads in this episode. The three of them decide they neither know nor care how their powers manifesting are related, if at all, to Percival .(UMMM CAN WE GET JUGHEAD’S INPUT?)

Veronica has a bit of the sexual compulsion about her. To her ‘meaningful human contact’ = sexual kissing. That is not how I roll but OK. She’s very upset that her last such contact was with Reggie. Then something else bad is realized: She can’t get drunk, either.

The next morning, Archie’s hair is falling out in clumps, so he charges over to Dr Curdle Jr first, and then directly after that to Cheryl. Cheryl seems to have a lot of medical knowledge (about what acute anemia is and what it means about Archie’s body chemistry). Very casually, she tells Archie that he may have (with her soup!) simply poisoned himself rather than build up Rasputin tolerance for toxic substances. She says she’s going to consult her medical texts, and if Archie was even a little bit more intelligent he would be very upset by her using the concept of BALANCE HIS HUMORS as a way of getting out of the poisoning predicament that they have placed him in together.

At the Cooper residence, a slightly drunk seeming Betty finally FINALLLYYYY confronts Alice about a) lying about the serial killer gene (with the help of the Farm and Polly) and b) being useless in the face of Hal grooming Betty to be a killer . Alice denies everything in the most awful, gaslighting way.

Veronica is visiting Cheryl to get a more hopeful prognosis than what the more scientific and soberminded Curdle is willing to do . Didn’t I say Veronica was carrying all the loads? When people hit the limits of what is scientifically available in medicine with their problem still resolved, they turn to woo-woo stuff, healers, magicians, charlatans, off-science practices. Veronica visiting Cheryl is that. Veronica continually treating the funeral netting of her hat as a mask keeps cracking me up. Cheryl is always very willing to poison people (this is a new trait, and it’s great) so she has prepared an assortment of natural toxins for Veronica to test on herself. (Alcohol is absolutely a poison according to Riverdale). She also seeks books about spiders from Cheryl.

The next morning, Betty has barged in on the defenseless (because Tabitha isn’t there) Jughead, in his very fancy old man robe and breakfast cereal in its bowl. What happens next makes me absolutely unable to accept their reconnection and newly established intimacy in a positive light. Betty forces Jughead to become super intimate with HER MOTHER’S mind. Her mother that used to fuck his father, and gave birth to their joint half brother and also was his semi step mother who raised his sister. I just. NO. And Jughead is repelled by this - I AM NOT SURE I AM SUPER COMFORTABLE WITH THAT (Good god, he is still so scared of Betty) but she has a useful tool she can force into compliance, so Betty is going to aim Jughead Jones’ mind at her sicko mother and give no hoots at all about what that might do to his mental hygiene. She never even asks why he might be uncomfortable. He says he doesn’t want to, and her answer is, IT’S SIMPLE TO DO. Betty Cooper attacks her mother using Jughead Jones.

THANKS I HATE IT.

Jughead does as he is forced to, catching what is evidently a terrible memory that is shaken loose in Alice in the face of Betty’s assault on her, at her workplace. Remember how Alice used to be scared of Betty and said so? Yeah.

It’s under the table, Jughead tells Betty, at the Diner. Whatever it is. And Betty just keeps roping him into this - THAT’S WHERE WE’LL DIG. So she can share dirty buried secret with Jughead but not Archie. I don’t think this is because she trusts him more, unfortunately. I think this means Betty values Jughead less. Where is Tabitha please? I need Tabitha. To prove my point, Betty gets a call from Archie, which she takes while Jughead desperately downs some nectar of life (a Tates milkshake) to try to recover from being aimed at Alice Cooper like a gun, and the first thing she asks Archie is ARE YOU OK.

Fucking brutal.

Betty tells Jughead that Cheryl has a “new new” plan for Archie, and Jughead dutifully worries about Archie with her.

Betty never asked what the side effects of reading Alice’s mind might be for Jughead. I must harp on this.

Barchie are listening to Cheryl talk at them about principles of alchemy (absolute woowoo!) being applicable to Archie’s not-quite medical crisis. Since Archie has too much palladium put into his body (put there by CHERYL), Cheryl is going to use a magic alchemical spell to transform that into iron to cure his acute anemia, and then ‘forge’ that excess of iron into his blood in order to make him impervious. So that song lyric about Archie being set on fire was foreshadowing. Layers!

This all will basically sorta kinda make him Wolverine, I guess, except instead of grafting metal onto his bones, make his actual blood metal. What. Oh and when Betty smartly asks what the side effects might be, Cheryl blandly says this all might kill him. Archie says he’s dying anyway, so he doesn’t mind, but does want one more additional night with Betty.

Thank god for the Raven Haired Goddess Veronica Lodge (this is Cheryl’s coinage which I am happily adopting) is having an awesome looking evening. She’s in a big bubble bath, reading about spiders, munching on poisonous plants, with her black lipstick still perfectly in place. Goddess indeed.

Barchie are getting down for a potential final night, and the Riverdale the Show musical director chose a song that intones “This ain’t no stupid crush” over images of Betty sensually touching Archie.

The next morning, Jughead and Betty are going to literally go digging in the Cooper house to get at buried secrets. I suppose it has to be Jughead because Archie is technically ill. I can huffily grant that. But Jughead is still very unwilling. He asks, “Are you sure about this?”

Veronica consults with Cheryl, who concludes that she is immune to all poison. Oh wait - and Archie is about to be made impervious to the one thing that can poison him. Symmetry! In any case, Veronica has reached some conclusions: She’s most toxic when her emotions are heightened.

um.

This seems just a tad misogynist, no? A woman in the throes of emotion = highly toxic? I mean it’s logical as a storytelling device but it doesn’t sit well with me. Cheryl asks about dispassionate kissing, and Veronica ABSOLUTELY REFUSES TO TAKE THE HINT.

Veronica. Please kiss Cheryl. Please. Please please please.

Graciously putting up with the lifelong oblivious lesbian qualities that Veronica shares with Jughead, Cheryl gifts Veronica with one of her enormous spider brooches. As the soundtrack sings “I am a survivor,” Cheryl tells Veronica that she is resilient even if she’s venomous.

Betty and Jughead found a mummified corpse. Betty confronts Alice about it, who finally confesses. Hal killed this deputy and the Coopers buried him together. Alice also confesses that she tried to control Betty into being perfect because she truly believed her inevitable fate was to be a vile serial killer like her husband and it was Alice, as the mother, who was responsible for trying to avoid that fate. Betty tells Alice that her plan failed, and storms off.

According to subtitles, the spell that Cheryl has Archie use is Greek (whereas Percival and Nana Rose use Latin). She manifests witch fire in Archie in the abandoned palladium mine.

Veronica is eating product placement Smartfood popcorn and it doesn’t kill her because she’s impervious to poison. Riverdale’s way of doing product placement has me obsessed.

Just in time, Reggie visits her to threaten her with a hostile takeover. He also confronts her with photos taken somehow of her dialysis treatment. He is condescending (It’s for your health) and she is threatening, and they seem well and truly over.

Archie is invulnerable again! He’s no longer allergic to palladium! He and Betty are very happy about this. Veronica is making a presentation to her board. She starts out talking about money and profitability. Then she decides that the best way to prove she is personally fit to be CEO of the casino by doing a Britney Spears number in skimpy clothing for her very buttoned-up seeming board. She is not going to poison her back up dancers even though she will definitely be spitting and sweating on them, because she can control her own feelings. I have lots of questions about the consent issues involved in Veronica’s relationship with her back up dancers.

It turns out that Veronica can suddenly control her emotions perfectly because she, with Betty’s permission, kissed Archie. In order to get her ‘main character energy back’ according to Betty, who says this hideous thing in the most loving, warm way.

First of all - FIRST OF ALL. The core four (even if we must exclude Cheryl) were always equally main character. So how very dare Betty call her not that. Secondly, Veronica is ‘permitted’ to kiss Archie, for her health, by Betty, despite all the shit that went down in senior year of high school. I just. I cannot with Betty. She is truly being toxic.

Meanwhile, absolutely neglected by everyone, Jughead is going through the side effects of toxic levels of exposure to not one but two Cooper women in a very intense week. Tabitha texts and Jughead answers, but I’mvery very worried about why Veronica singing “You're toxic / I’m slipping under” plays over Jughead.

Also.

The show is being fucking mean about Bughead. I no longer am a Bughead per se, but I find the kiss compilation set to TOXIC a bit too on the nose. I can say this about Bughead, but the show should not!

At Thornhill, we finally meet Heather, who is super cute in her glasses. (I wear glasses so I love girl characters who wear glasses and just wear them all the time).

Veronica’s rendition of Toxic is the craziest thing ever. The grand finale is a giant spider descending from the ceiling. Percival appreciates what I’m sure he’d call her moxie. Veronica blows Barchie a kiss, which Betty catches. I kinda hope she chokes on it.

#this thing is super long and ranty #covid19 mention tw #anti-bughead warning #barchie i guess? i don't even know #veronica lodge #riverdale opinion #riverdale episode 6.14 #riverdale episode 109 #Riverdale s6 #riverdale recap #riverdale episode recap

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viralhoax · 1 year

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weights and scales

if you know me, you know i’m big on the abstract concept of the “right” thing. and while in some instances that is subjective, in a lot of instances, there is a right and a wrong way, or a way that is less aligned with your values and a way that is.

when i started nullvoid (skip if you heard this story before) it was 12/27/17 and i was on my phone after taking a long weekend from my first in-office graphic design job. i worked in an office with my boss and 3-4 other designers. i knew my boss did not like me within the first week and she made it obvious to all of my coworkers. she was truly quite cruel to me, so this is why my unmedicated, anxiety-riddled brain went from 0-survival mode real quick. i got an email from indeed that the company i worked for was looking for someone with my exact role description and title and i had just finished my probationary 3 months. i had no idea that they just were adding someone else because no one told me and i was taking my first paid time off break since i started. i immediately assumed that i was going to be fired upon reporting back to work. i needed something in the meantime as a safety net or something i could develop into a business, so out of straight up fear, nullvøid was born. i had my attempt with a nullvøid prototype in college called VOIDXIX because 19 was my favorite number and i love the concept of endless uncertainty plaguing us all (i also thought void was a cool word). anyway, i built a website and my first products in a night, and the forest fire concept was born. i didn’t realize how symbolic that shit was until i was older. low and behold, i didn’t get fired but i did stay at a place where my boss hated me and humiliated me for almost 2 more years so let this be a lesson to everyone— don’t be like me.

i was still designing but the concept of nullvøid fell on the backburner as i struggled with interpersonal issues, a pretty painful breakup, alcoholism and an array of bad decisions. by mid-2018 i was finally ready to start taking it seriously and switched platforms to storenvy and printful, which changed the game for me as i was no longer limited to the price points of my original distributor. from 2018 to now, nullvøid has been top focus for me, it’s been the vøid over everything. i started to use it as a tool to give back to the community around me through sponsorships and community partnerships.

something still felt off though.

let me make this super clear: in the almost 6 years i have been running this “business”, i have not made a profit. like, yes, i have made profit off of selling things for a cost+profit price point. but i have never made more money than i’ve spent. and it dawned on me recently, when has it ever truly been about the money (with the exception of its inception, for survival)? i’m not trying to sound like a martyr, i’m just not a good business person because of my feelings about how the world works and how everyone should be able to eat at the same table.

in 2017-2019, it was about me. it was all about me, it was what i wanted on garments because i thought it looked cool and i didn’t really care if anyone bought anything or not. if they did, i was honestly shocked. by 2020, the shift in the political climate and COVID changed how i wanted to run this very strange little world i was creating. i wanted to give back and take a stand against injustice, i wanted to dedicate any of my time to developing resources and donating money and time to causes, especially when the world was in such a state of chaos. and i was so much happier giving back. the minute this began to feel like a chore, though, i started to get immense anxiety around it. am i doing the right thing? am i making things people like? am i profitable? am i personable? 2021-2022 became all about trying to figure out what the fuck i wanted. did i want to be a streetwear mogul or did i want to be an artist? the short answer is artist, every time.

and now we’re in the middle of 2023. i have a skate team full of people i love. i have a group of people around me who really fuck with my vision. and it doesn’t feel right or okay for me to say fuck capitalism and then profit off of people. it caused me to have a bit of an existential crisis about my positioning in the world and how nullvøid fits into it.

making my art and messaging as accessible as possible is now our number one vision and mission. i want to make things that make people think and i don’t want them to have to pay supreme pricing for something that is more than just what’s cool now on a garment.

i don’t want to feed a machine i do not believe in. i want to be the change and i can’t keep sitting around bitching about shit while not changing anything. so that’s why this happened. that’s why i’m not ever going to make lack of funds a reason to not pick up our stuff. i don’t give a fuck if i profit. i give a fuck about how people feel. if i make some side money, cool, i’ll use it towards making more art.

i’m finding a level of balance and fulfillment i never thought was possible.

it is uncertain and scary.

i love it.

#nullvoid

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blahandwhatever · 1 year

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I finally went and picked up my baby’s ashes. Cried a little again, cradled the little wooden box in my hands. Searched for the best spot for it and found it on the new cabinet in the hallway, together with my last physical journal - two little pieces of my soul. Content to have everything in its right place, I felt at peace.

Later my peace was disturbed by my father sending me screenshots of some inspirational quotes off the TV, at least one of which was a transparent callout of a ~problem~ with me, something about people who didn’t have a lot of friends as children. I wondered if he was getting into one of his looking-for-problems-with-my-life modes or if he just saw this quote that reminded him of me and decided to send me a few. Today he sent me an inoffensive one about cats. Didn’t write anything. He’s always liked oversimplified sources of inspiration and wisdom. Neither of my parents has any comprehension of how much more I understand than they do, when it comes to psychological and existential matters, nor of how unhealthy they are or how little wisdom they have to offer, but that’s thorny stuff to get into and best avoided unless they really cross a line.

As for my mother. I spent a long time debating whether to make an issue of her recent treatment of me or just let it go and move on. I felt capable of letting it go, yet it felt unfair to me. I’ve let a lot of toxic things go. But once in a while, if it’s bad enough, or enough of it accumulates, I have to stand up for myself. In the end, I really didn’t want to make a drama of it, but I did really feel the need for some space from her after so much mostly negative interaction. Two weeks ago, when she texted me and asked how I was, I said I was fine but needed some space. She reacted extremely dramatically, saying that I had really hurt her and that this was proof I hated her. It’s a type of reaction I might have expected two or three years ago, but we’d made some progress, I’d made her understand some things, for a while at least, so it took me aback. So then I had to actually get into it and explain the reason. And she still didn’t understand, and she countered with her own irrelevant list of grievances and played a victim. At a certain point, I got tired of replying to the madness; we both needed time to cool off. We haven’t talked in two weeks. Earlier this week, I emailed her and my father some pictures of our cat. Hoped she might take this as a bit of a peace offering or at least a sign of life from me. I’m still hoping she will reach out at some point and make amends. I’ve had enough space and kind of miss her actually, but she only made things worse, not better, and I don’t want to deal with her if her attitude is still where it was at then.

Anyway. I’ve tried to wean myself off of the long sleeps, but I felt kind of crappy sleeping less the past couple of days, so today I let myself sleep long and felt better. I really am longing for long, beautiful days.

I finally packed away my Christmas tree and took it down to storage. Every time I put the tree away, I really feel that missing piece of lighting in my living room. It’s about time I actually found a solution for it. Today I found a couple of expensive candidates to potentially try after my next paycheck. I’m still buying and trying furniture, still without much conclusiveness, my floor strewn with boxes and unassembled pieces, a state I’ve accepted I’ll have to live in until all is decided and done.

In the meantime, I’m back in business with the picture blog, which again makes me feel more centered and at peace.

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inkofamethyst · 1 year

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December 22, 2022

Warning: Anxiety Post. We all knew this was coming.

It’s just that any email in my inbox between now and the beginning of March that isn’t an interview offer or an acceptance is superfluous to me. Now that all of my top ones are submitted (all that’s left is my “safety” which I may not submit until January tbh bc I’d heard that one of my schools could get back to me as soon as January and I’d choose that one over my safety any day, I think), I am officially starting to feel that icky feeling of “what if I don’t get in anywhere, what if everything I did is wrong, what if my only choice is between somewhere I definitely don’t want to go and not going anywhere at all, what if, what if, what if, I’m afraid, I’m so scared, I wish I just knew already” and so on and so forth. But I am going to hold out. Regardless of what happens, I will survive. I refuse to consult admissions forums or subreddits like I have during my past few admission cycles because they only make me more anxious. I just... I hate the wait, you know? And the uncertainty that comes with it. And while there is some comfort in knowing that there are tons of people out there just like you who are in the same boat because misery loves company, miserable, anxious people generally don’t help other miserable people feel all that much better.

And so I wait. And I will have to keep myself busy in the meantime. I will have to find some ways to distract myself into forgetting that my future plans, goals, and dreams are on the line here and that I don’t really have a backup plan lined up and.. hhhhh. (Also I think I should’ve at least mentioned the consortium involved in two of my applications because that was a huge draw for why I was applying there in the first place, but those are also the two places that I.. am the most certain I will not be accepted to, so (they’d be dope schools to attend, don’t get me wrong, but for a variety of reasons I don’t think it will work out (or maybe I’m just being pessimistic disguised as realistic again to save myself from eventual heartache, but, really, who knows)).)

Plus I can’t help but think that maybe I should’ve done something different in this app or that app and maybe I should’ve talked more about why I really liked the school in my statement or maybe I should’ve submitted a copy of my poster as a representation of some of my old work and I just... I’m just so worried. Like I’m structuring my entire Spring around the possibility of interviewing and recruitment days, and it’d be so embarrassing to have none of that happen at all. This ain’t undergrad with an average of 35% acceptance. I’m looking at rates of 1-5% bruh. And if I don’t get in anywhere I have to go back and tell that to my recommenders and I physically don’t know if I can handle that, and it makes me feel sick just thinking about it.

As much as I try to remember that I have great qualifications, fantastic recommenders, and a solid history when it comes to beating the odds of low acceptance rates (for the selective programs with ridiculously low acceptance rates to which I’ve applied, I’ve been accepted an almost unreasonably high percentage of the time), every single time feels like a new, more impossible beast.

But that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? As you become more qualified, the applicant pool around you increases in their qualifications as well. So you know you’re putting up a fight in your application. And your achievements, your selection over other talented candidates, represent not only the fight but the victory. And that’s all I want, really. A victory. Even if it’s a choice between two of my preferred programs, I don’t need all six. The victory wouldn’t feel so amazing if it was easy, would it? So I accept the challenge (I have no choice at this point). I accept the challenge and pray for the best.

And if it doesn’t work out this go round, I have plenty that I can evaluate and improve up for the next go round. Ideally, a year of setback won’t put me out of the running.

Today I’m thankful for all As this semester. I’m thankful for my ecoanth prof who was far more lenient than she should have been but her goal was fully for us to learn in whatever way worked best for us and I can respect that. I’m thankful for my easy archaeology class where all I did most days was show up and lazily scribble notes. I’m thankful for my evolution class where there were so many opportunities to actively engage with the material (and gain points) before taking the exams that I never felt too worried about keeping a good overall grade. I’m thankful for my popgen class where I learned! so! much! about genetics and computer modeling and I wish I could take another class with that prof in particular, he was probably the best prof I’ve had at this university (closely followed by my biochem 1 prof, I’d think). I’m thankful for devbio, a class I only took because I needed it to fulfill a requirement and I didn’t think I’d care about it at all, but it introduced me to a whole new field in biology which I actually might want to explore more if I’m offered the opportunity.

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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: orgy slash train, jk-centric eightsome, oral (m receiving), rimming, fingering, orgasm control, edging, unprotected sex, mxm sex, sub!jk, dom!hoseok, dom!yoongi, dom!jimin, dom!namjoon, dom!taehyung, dom!jin, sub!yn

A/N: it's voting time folks !! both votes are in this google forms sheet. as usual, it requires sign-in with an email. this is to limit votes to one per person. i don't collect the emails or do anything with them, i just take a screenshot of the pie chart for reference. if anyone has a more private way to limit votes please do let me know! i know it's not ideal. this time i'm leaving the vote up for a week, so until sunday 27 10pm KST!

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

Sejin’s not pleased.

On the contrary, he stares you two down like a disappointed parent as you step inside the production van out the front of the Villa.

Arms crossed over his chest, eyes tired behind his smudged glasses, he lets out a sigh once you close the door behind you. “I’m sure you’re well aware of why you’re here.” He pauses enough to let you meekly nod. “And I’ve made the rules clear, have I not?”

You swallow hard, guilt swirling choppily in your stomach. This was your choice, your idea, and it had landed you in hot water. Taehyung meets your gaze for a moment, but apart from a tinge of fear you can’t read his expression.

“So I have one question for you. Do you enjoy making my life difficult?”

“No, Sejin,” you insist in a near-whine. “That’s not what it is at all.”

“I would hope not. You’ve put me in a very awkward position here. The rules dictate that if an eliminated member has sexual contact with Y/n, that they’ll be sent home immediately.”

“But I kissed him,” you put in frantically, voice wobbling. Taehyung’s looking at you but you can’t bear to pull him from your peripheral.

“And if I saw correctly, he returned that kiss.”

You chance a look now. Taehyung looks ill. “I didn’t touch her, sir. And it wasn’t sexual.”

“No? Before you were eliminated, what did kissing lead to?”

You flush hot even as it feels like all the blood is leaving your head. “Then you should’ve waited to call us. Taehyung didn’t touch me sexually, Sejin. Don’t kick him out.”

Another chesty sigh leaves Sejin. He looks truly exhausted. “As true as that may or may not be, it doesn’t change the fact that you, Y/n, certainly broke the rules. Correct?”

This you can’t deny. “Yes.”

“Then there needs to be consequences. Fortunately for you, Jungkook needs to complete his prompt before the meeting tomorrow morning, so I can’t cut you off for twenty-four hours, and I am certainly not willing to be handcuffed to you during that time. So I’m running up empty on how I can maintain some order and authority in this house without scarring myself or making things worse. You see my dilemma?”

Your brain comes up empty on solutions. Taehyung, too, still sullen though not as scared, wets his lips but doesn’t speak. Sejin stares at you half-expectantly from behind thick lenses. Eventually, you clear your throat. “Why don’t you make the other guys decide the punishment? At least that’ll add some drama in the show.”

Sejin considers this for a moment, eyes slowly shifting around the room, and after a moment he sighs in resignation. “Alright,” he allows, “I’ll be in to talk with you all at 10. In the meantime, kindly leave my office and let me sleep. If there’s any more funny business I’m kicking the both of you out. Don’t think I’d hesitate in making this a show just for twinks. I haven’t slept a full night in two weeks thanks to your antics.”

You and Taehyung send Sejin a deep apologetic bow before hustling out of the van and back to the house, shoulders bumping like co-conspirators, but being careful not to get too close. Sejin seemed at his rope’s end enough that funny business was probably a significantly wider pool right now.

Though you were wired no more than ten minutes earlier, once you slip back into the pre-dawn silence of the villa, you feel exhaustion tug at you, and you can tell Taehyung feels the same with the way his slippers scuff on the floor.

Voice hushed even though the others are upstairs probably fast asleep, you rub your eyes and give Taehyung a tired smile. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep, too,” you decide after a moment, fighting the gravity that pulls you closer to him.

Taehyung, hair bouncy like a poodle, smiles softly back. “I’ll go upstairs and act like I’m not replaying that kiss over and over again in my head.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of your throat, and you punch at him playfully, padding towards the stairs. “That kiss almost got you kicked out,” you jibe, but the reality of it dampens your mood slightly.

Always so in tune, Taehyung picks up on it and reaches out to briefly squeeze your hand, eyes unusually sober. “Hey,” he states intently, “I don’t regret that risk. And I certainly don’t regret being kissed by you again. Okay?”

“Okay.” You begin to ascend the carpeted steps, reluctantly breaking his gaze to follow your feet in the dark. “But we better wait next time, just in case. I don’t know what shit the others are gonna pull tomorrow.”

“I’ll convince them to go easy on you,” Taehyung assures, and you can hear the grin in his voice. You reach the top, dividing up to stand in front of your respective doors.

“Goodnight, Tae.”

He looks like an angel with a soft, caramel halo and a radiant smile. You want to kiss him silly all over again, but keep yourself tethered to your bedroom doorknob. He leans back against his, eyes fixed on you in bemusement. “G’night. I love you.”

You grin, melting. “I love you, too.”

As you quietly crack open your door, still not wanting to fully leave him, he presses a slow, careful kiss to his fingertips, and waves them to you. You reach out, miming grabbing it, and press your hand to your chest, feeling your heart thump joyously beneath your ribs. “Goodnight,” you whisper, realising belatedly you’ve already said it.

Taehyung cocks his eyebrows once cheekily. “So I’ve heard. Get some rest, petal. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Even after Sejin had dropped the possibility of Taehyung leaving, it’s not until your lover himself utters those words that the last shred of anxiety in your chest dissolves, and you fall back asleep much lighter than before, the memory of his lips on yours the last thing on your mind before you go.

“Jungkook, be honest. What did you do?”

“It’s not me! We’re probably in trouble because hyung broke the blender.”

Seokjin’s back stiffens in petulance. “It’s not broken. It’s just resting.”

“Tell that to my protein shake. I’ve never swallowed anything so grainy before.”

“That’s what she said,” Hoseok fires off automatically, before he belatedly cringes at his own joke. “God, ignore that.”

Jungkook knits his brows in mock concern even as his lips twitch. “I’m so sorry to hear that your nut isn’t smooth, Hobi-hyung.”

“It’s perfectly smooth, thank you,” Hoseok spits, face twisted in a grimace. “Anyway, where is Sejin? He told us to be on time but he’s not even early. It’s suspicious.”

“Everything’s suspicious to you,” Jimin complains, looking particularly regal in a deep purple blouse and a single pearl earring. He hadn’t been dressing up as much these days as he usually did, but it seems this morning his old wardrobe is returning. If you squint, you can make out his catlike eyeliner. “It’s a miracle you’re not wearing a tin foil hat.”

“I have a little more fashion sense than that, thank you. My accessories are real silver.”

Jimin’s mildly bewildered face is overshadowed by Sejin hurrying in at that moment, a yawn wracking his face and a two thirds-empty takeaway iced americano. It looks far darker than usual, but he sits down on the edge of the coffee table and chugs the rest of it, leaving the plastic cup at his side.

“Good morning, everyone, you may be-”

“-wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today,” Jungkook interrupts, pitching his voice lower to imitate Sejin’s. He swallows, all but shrinking under Sejin’s miffed gaze. “Sorry, I had to.”

“For those unaware, Y/n and Taehyung broke the rules of the game last night at roughly 2:43am.”

Namjoon, silent up until now, turns to look at the two of you sharply, though his face is smoothed out to mild surprise. Jimin is looking between you with an inquisitive look, Jungkook has his jaw dangling.

Hoseok smirks, shaking his head in bemusement. “Taehyung, you dirty dog,” he drawls, “couldn’t resist, huh?”

You press your hands against your cheeks, feeling the embarrassed blush heat your skin. “It wasn’t like that,” you defend on Tae’s behalf. “We… we kissed.” It feels somehow absurd saying it out loud, like you’re a schoolgirl admitting a crush. You avoid everyone’s gazes, cursing your prior self for even suggesting this as a scapegoat.

“Because of that,” Sejin continues, “there needs to be a punishment carried out to prevent the breaking of rules in the future. Which is where you come in. Y/n suggested herself that you gentlemen be the ones to decide what it’ll be. I’ll stay here until you’ve reached a decision.”

Jin narrows his eyes slightly, seeming uncertain. “I mean, what can we do? What’s the ballpark here?”

“Nothing that lasts for longer than 24 hours, and nothing beyond her regular limits here. Aside from that, be creative, I suppose.”

Jungkook raises his hand immediately. “She has to go and buy us a new blender.”

“Preferably something inside the Villa, Jungkook. This is a reality show.”

“She has to construct a blender from things inside the house.”

“Okay,” Sejin sighs shortly, “anyone else?”

Namjoon bites at his lower lip. “I don’t know… This feels mean.”

“Y/n could order a blender online,” Jungkook slips in again, before Taehyung catches him around the waist and pins him back against the couch. “Fine, I guess you guys can decide.”

“I have an idea,” Jimin says slowly, eyes heavy on you. You swallow, not trusting the glint in his eyes. “She follows our every command for the next 24 hours. Sexual or otherwise, as long as it doesn’t break her limits.”

You bite down hard on your lower tongue, glaring daggers at him, but the others are already bursting into noise around you, and it takes less than a minute before Sejin calls for a vote, six hands going up immediately and a seventh following after a moment’s hesitation.

“I won’t use it,” Namjoon promises you from your left side. His eyes are rounded in concern, and you don’t doubt his words for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“It won’t be that bad-” you begin to say, but Jungkook wrestles himself out of Taehyung’s grip and puffs his chest, and you know it’s going to be a long day ahead.

“Boy, I sure am thirsty.”

You flatten a thinly-veiled glare at the oldest member in the house. “Just spit it out.”

He beams at you, eyes glittering with amusement. “Y/n dearest, would you mind fetching me a cool, refreshing bottle of water from the fridge?”

“I do mind, actually,” you grumble, but you’re already getting up for the millionth time to fetch something. It feels like it’s been days already, an eon of regret, but less than two hours have passed. “Still or sparkling, sire?” you drawl, voice dripping in acid.

“Still will do me just fine,” he responds from the living room with a dreamy sigh. He has one arm slung over the back of the couch, torso twisted to watch you, eyes dipping low.

Beyond embarrassment, you huff and use your free hand to tug at the too-short skirt you’d been put into. Part of an initially-humiliating French maid costume (where the fuck did Hoseok find it on such short notice?), the fabric threatens to expose your panties at the slightest bend.

Namjoon remains on the couch, nose buried in a thickly stapled academic paper, teeth latched onto the cap of a highlighter that he hasn’t used for the past fifteen minutes. In an effort to be respectful, it seems he’d decided that looking at you at all was crossing the line.

Apart from the two of them, Jimin is the only other that currently remains in the room with you. Once you pass off the water bottle to Jin with perhaps a little more force than necessary, you catch Jimin’s expectant look and sigh, sinking to your knees on the carpet beside him.

There’s a pillow there, thankfully. You haven’t actually put your ass on a proper seat since your punishment was decided. For a while, Taehyung commanded you to sit in his lap, wrapping his arms around you with a pout that failed to prevent the others from commanding you to move. Now, you’ve been instructed to remain at Jimin’s feet as long as he desires.

Out of principle, you’re miffed, but deep down it’s strangely peaceful to be so physically reminded of your submission to him. If he wanted, he could certainly be a dick about it, but he’s done nothing more than smile down at you and run his fingers lazily through your hair. You feel taken under his wing, safe beneath him and in his proximity.

The four others are upstairs, helping Jungkook prepare for his Sunday camming stream. He’d instructed you to wait downstairs and watch it, and his team of older men flanked him up like they’d rehearsed it. You’re suspicious, but Jimin’s low murmur of approval keeps your mind from gnawing on it too much.

Content with his water, Jin doesn’t request your service again, though his eyes occasionally dart over the top of his phone to drink in the sight of you on your knees in such a ridiculous getup. Namjoon focuses on his study like his life depends on it, and Jimin’s hand slides down between your shoulderblades, holding you to his side and rubbing there softly. Time blurs under his fingers, and you rest your chin on his knee and zone out.

When the four horsemen of the porn industry come clambering downstairs, it gives you a fright. Taehyung is first, clearing his throat and stomping his foot to gain your attention like an enthusiastic squire. “Introducing, for a special-edition livestream, gukked97!”

Namjoon puts his paper down and claps automatically, faltering when nobody joins in. Taehyung seems content enough with the lukewarm response, waving behind him to the doorway.

Everyone holds their breath, struck silent by curiosity. One thick boot peeks around the door, followed by a black-clad leg, a chunky belt, and soon Master Jung is in full view, dressed to the nines in his dom gear.

One hand swings freely at his side, but the other is stretched behind him, out of sight. He pulls it forward, and you see a leather strap wrapped around his fingers. A strange, wet huff sounds from behind, and Hoseok steps forward leisurely, the strap extending until it finally meets a neck.

Jungkook rounds the corner, leashed, gagged and stripped down to his underwear. He’s breathing past the rope in his mouth, drool running down his chin with every pant. His eyes are lidded, but flickering around the room without pause. In front of him, his hands are bound together with a chunky rope. You know Hoseok well enough to sense that this setup is intended to look primitive, animalistic.

He grins, carefully tugging Jungkook closer to his side by his throat, the younger man shorter than him thanks to his heavy boots providing some advantage. “I caught a sub for us to play with,” he announces casually, like he’d returned from a weekend hunting trip. “Y/n, clear the table.”

Jumping up, you rush to shift Jin’s water bottle, the TV remote, and some of Namjoon’s stationery off the low coffee table, dumping them on the main dining room table between the couches and the kitchen.

When you turn back, the final member of the party has come into view. Yoongi has a camera in his hands, eyes tracking the screen as he centres it on a squirmy Jungkook being lowered back-down onto the coffee table. The doctor watches the screen with a lopsided smirk as he leans in close.

Not that you’re complaining, rushing back to the couch and almost sitting down before you catch yourself and fold at the knees on the carpet again. This position puts you at eye level to Jungkook’s heaving chest, back arched up slightly off the table.

“Are you gonna be good for us, little bunny? Let us play with you?”

Jungkook remains silent at Hoseok’s words to your surprise, even as he wriggles on the table and a hiccuped breath bubbles from behind the gag. He does, however, nod furiously, gaze pleading. He looks painfully hard, stretching the cotton of his underwear taut. You can’t blame him, feeling hot between your thighs yourself.

Hoseok spreads his legs wide around the coffee table, looming over Jungkook. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves a delicate chain, hanging from which are two metal clamps. Your own chest aches at the sight, Hoseok swinging them lazily with his Master’s grin. “Starting off so quiet, huh? Cat got your tongue? Let’s see if we can change that.”

Jungkook huffs a breath again, squeezing his eyes shut and stomping a single bare foot dully against the carpet. He refuses to make any real noise, even as Hoseok sits on his thighs, flicking clinically at Jungkook’s nipples to make them perk up. He squirms, trying to rock Hoseok off of him, but bites down hard enough on the gag that you can see a vein pop in his neck when the metal teeth close their jaws around him at his most sensitive points.

He’s breathing heavily, head shaking back and forth not in discontent but in overwhelming sensation, foot thumping. “Still nothing?” the dom above him questions, but all he gets in response is a weak gurgle.

“Well, then,” Hoseok announces, lifting back up off Jungkook with a sigh, “I guess I’ll need backup.” He glances up and smirks at you before his gaze is directed to the gentlemen in the room. “Give him a go. If he makes a noise, he’ll fail his prompt. Isn’t it getting to that point in the competition where it’s time for a little strategy?”

A sharp exhale leaves Jungkook’s noise as he glares accusingly at Hoseok, bound hands curled into fists. The dom bends down above him, a teasing look of sympathy on his face. “Oh, poor Kookie; thought I was helping you. I’m not going to let you fuck Y/n until you can take the others without a peep. If you don’t want this, just safeword out. You know the drill.”

Jungkook’s eyes steel, he grits his teeth around the gag, but doesn’t make any moves or noises. The only motion is the semi-regular heaving of his chest.

“I see,” Hoseok sings, “you don’t want to end this because you really think you’ll win, don’t you? Let’s see how far you last.” He sets his sights to the oldest. “Jin-hyung, you’re up first.”

Seokjin seems surprised to be called up, but he gets up off the couch willingly and approaches the sprawled out sub, letting his broad palm run lightly up Jungkook’s side. The younger sucks in a breath at the feathery contact but his body leans into it, seeking Jin out.

“What should we do with you?” Jin murmurs under his breath, almost like he’s thinking aloud. He lets his fingers trail over Jungkook’s mouth, breathing a laugh when the boy’s lips twitch, unable to respond like wants to.

To your surprise, Jin makes his way back down again, and settles on his knees, Jungkook’s thighs splayed on either side of him. “Let’s get this pesky thing off,” he comments absentmindedly as he removes Jungkook’s underwear one leg at a time.

The moment the elastic slips below Jungkook’s waistline, his cock slips out and smacks audibly on his lean lower abdomen. If you strain your ears you think you can hear the beginning rumbles of a growl, but the sub suppresses it, thighs clenching.

Jin doesn’t allow him to lock up, instead gripping at the flesh and tugging him further down the table, pushing up to fold Jungkook’s legs. He’s spread open unceremoniously, fully bared to the therapist.

Right as you expect Jin to lower his mouth to Jungkook’s aching erection, he goes lower, and Jungkook’s back leaves the table at the exact second you see a flash of pink.

Jin teases Jungkook’s rim, alternating long laps that almost reach his balls to pointed plunges inside his hole. The younger man is whiteknuckled, breathing heavily through his nose and flexing his pelvis - whether to escape or to seek more out, you don’t think even he knows.

The eldest in the house is an expert with his tongue. You’ve experienced it firsthand, and you feel yourself dampening at the memory of it. In Jungkook’s silence you’re left with the obscene wet sounds coming from Jin’s ministrations as he enthusiastically eats him out, occasionally pausing to nip at the paler flesh of his inner thighs.

Yoongi still remains close, perched on the edge of the couch with the camera leaned in close. His lids are heavy but beneath them his gaze is sharp with focus. He’s taking his role as cameraman seriously, hands steady.

Hoseok has Jungkook’s leash in-hand, standing above so Jungkook doesn’t forget his presence, his role. You shift slightly, wishing that attention was being spent on you, but equally aroused to be the observer. The others on the couches above you are clearly just as invested as you are. Jimin’s hand has stilled in your hair, half-gripping the nape of your neck as he watches Jungkook’s expression intently.

Jin’s slurping at him now, leaving behind all manners to focus on Jungkook’s erogenous zone, but still the boy manages to hold back his noise. His cock twitches on his stomach, precum the only physical sign of his arousal beyond the way his body can’t sit still.

Eventually Jin growls between Jungkook’s legs and comes up for air, a displeased look on his face. “Bunny really does want to keep his lips locked, hm? If you’re going to be rude and hold back your precious sounds, then I’m certainly not going to give you an orgasm.” Jungkook pouts through the gag, fingers curling and uncurling in frustration, but Jin is already wiping his mouth and sitting back down, knocking Taehyung on the shoulder. “Have at ‘im, kid. He’s a stubborn one.”

“Come on, Jungkookie,” Taehyung chirps, hopping up with a considerable pep. “You’ll be a good boy and moan for, won’t you? I’ll touch you so nicely.”

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook has nothing to say for himself, but when Taehyung comes close he wraps his ankles around the masseuse’s waist and brings him even closer.

Tae’s attempt is making use of his golden hands. He sits on the edge of the coffee table, Jungkook’s legs dangling up and over his thighs, spitting into his palms.

The younger’s whole body seizes up when his length is enveloped by two wet hands, pumping him with the kind of intensity that would otherwise have him crying out for more. While his body certainly keens up, his voice remains dormant, hair sticking to his forehead and temples with sweat.

If you could hear Seokjin rimming Jungkook, Taehyung jerking him off is deafening, the rhythmic sound echoing in the room with no other noise to muddle it. Taehyung grins at the volume of it, his biceps flexing past his sleeveless tee.

“I wonder what your viewers are saying right now, Kookie,” he teases, not pausing his thorough movements for a split second, “turning up their speakers, their headphones, wondering why they can’t hear their gorgeous boy moan for them. They must be so disappointed. You don’t want to let them down, do you? You don’t want to let us down?”

Jungkook’s legs wiggle in frustration, his eyes clenched so tightly shut that his lashes barely peek through. His hips won’t stop rocking into Taehyung’s fist, and it looks like he might be close. Just as his nostrils flare and the huffed breathing picks up the pace, Taehyung lets out a frustrated growl - no doubt played up for dramatic effect - and takes his hands off, giving the glistening cock a single smack.

Jungkook jerks like he’s been electrocuted, but instead of making a noise, he throws his head back, knocking it against the table to express his need.

Having successfully edged the camboy, Taehyung lets his annoyed persona drop with a grin, glancing up at the cameraman. “If he’s not going to moan for us, why don’t we put his mouth to better use?”

With a resound agreement, Yoongi moves around, Taehyung happily untying the soaked gag and letting it drop to the floor. Jungkook’s first move is to close his jaw and wet his lips, but Taehyung only gives him a moment’s respite before he’s hooking two fingers behind his upper teeth, opening his mouth up again, ready to receive. It takes very little navigating to get Jungkook’s head tipped slightly over the upper edge of the coffee table so that his rounded lips are in better line with a kneeling Yoongi. The latter keeps both hands steady on the livestreaming camera as Taehyung unzips his jeans for him, guiding the tip of his cock into Jungkook’s awaiting mouth.

Yoongi lets out an indulgent sigh when he slowly buries himself to the halfway, Jungkook’s lips stretching. Taehyung leans down to Jungkook’s left and gives the younger no warning before he’s lifting off the closest nipple clamp, bending in to soothe the blooming red with his tongue.

Jungkook gurgles around Yoongi’s cock but any noise that may have escaped is muffled. Neither man seems to mind, Yoongi slowly and carefully fucking Jungkook’s mouth hands-free, groaning at the feeling of his throat relaxing and periodically swallowing around him.

For a few moments, the rest of you watch in thick, aroused silence as Yoongi gradually picks up the pace, Jungkook drooling hopelessly and pressing his thighs together as Taehyung turns to the second clamp and gives that aching nipple the same sloppy treatment.

Yoongi’s groans begin to deepen into grunts as his hips loose their rhythm slightly, and he has to take one hand off the camera to prop himself up on the table, Jungkook’s throat bobbing as he sucks the doctor off. Yoongi spills into Jungkook’s throat enough that it floods his mouth, slipping out the corners. He pants, praising Jungkook. Once he slips his cock out, Jungkook swallows again and lets out a dopey sigh, eyes hazy. Still, the only sound out of his throat is laboured breathing.

The tension racks up a notch when Taehyung gasps, giving one last teasing flick of his tongue before he jumps up and grabs Namjoon. The academic is tugged to the foot of the table with wide eyes.

Taehyung reaches down Jungkook’s legs and slips a finger inside casually, hoping to catch the younger off guard. Sadly, his breath only hitches before he’s rocking his hips back into the touch, gasping and letting the masseuse finger him open two and then three fingers at a time.

“You just need a big cock to fuck you dumb, don’t you, Jungkook,” Taehyung wonders aloud. “That’ll loosen your lips. Namjoon?”

Namjoon hesitates, even with the sizeable tent in his pants. From his knees, perfectly poised between Jungkook’s open legs, he glances up at Hoseok for guidance.

The master bends down to Jungkook’s ear, tucking his hair behind it before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Just pinch him if you don’t want it, Jungkook. Real hard; give him something to write home about.”

Jungkook’s lip bite and shuffle closer is a clear signal that he does, in fact, want it. Namjoon swallows hard and takes out his swollen length, the tip an angry purplish-red.

When he aligns himself at Jungkook’s entrance, Namjoon pauses once more, but the boy nods hastily, toes curling, and he gives in to his desire.

Post-orgasm, Yoongi’s slow to move down to get the shot, and by the time he focuses in on their union, Namjoon is buried deep inside Jungkook, his hands clasping the camboy’s hips tightly. He groans, pulls out almost all the way, and snaps up again.

The breath is punched out of Jungkook but he quickly sends his hands up and bites down hard on his knuckles.

Hoseok lets out a laugh, smacking him once on his already-pink chest. “That’s a good boy. Don’t hold it back, now, let it out.”

Jungkook refuses, however, muffling himself with intention as Namjoon fucks him in earnest, every stroke rocking him on the table. You find yourself unable to sit still as you take in the sight. At perfect eye-level to watch his cock disappear into Jungkook, you grow even needier and restless.

How much more did Jungkook have to withstand before he could fuck you? How long before anyone fucked you? Your eyes focus in hazily on the blissed-out look on Jungkook’s face, and you adjust your position so that your right heel falls perfectly between your thighs. It provides a small amount of much-needed friction, and you rock your hips in time with every deep thrust.

Namjoon is finally comfortable and in his element, and you can imagine just how much ecstasy Jungkook is holding back behind the hand stuffed in his mouth. You wish to hear it, too, betting that every viewer on the livestream is wanting much the same.

This time, Jungkook is being jostled around so much that nobody sees how close he’s getting before he shoots his load in an arcing line up over his chest, spattering as high as his neck and chin. He makes a strangled, choking noise, and thrashes around so much that Hoseok bends down hastily and slips a hand behind his head to ensure he doesn’t hurt himself.

Still, he bites down and bears it without a noise.

From behind you, Jimin clicks his tongue and huffs. “Amateur hour,” he announces dryly and leaves you with a pat to the head. Pretending to ignore Hoseok and Namjoon’s stares (the latter slowing down his thrusts and panting himself, the white coating his cock indicating he’s met his end too), Jimin crouches down and presses his lips to Jungkook’s ear, resting a single hand on his spent and softening cock.

He whipsers something, a few syllables of which sound suspiciously like your name, and then it happens.

Jungkook lets out a guttural, unintentional whimper, clapping his hand over his mouth too late to stop it.

Hoseok scowls at Jimin, who stands back up dripping in self-satisfaction, and returns to his place, bending down to press a kiss on your temple, like he’s staking his claim over both the sub and the servant.

Having lost his challenge, Jungkook whines and reaches down to gently crade his own length, curling up. “‘S cheating,” he complains, but Hoseok is turning his focus back onto the boy, checking over the red marks left behind by the clamps. “Hobi-hyung, ‘s not fair.”

“You did well, Kookie,” the dom coos, helping him sit up carefully, untying his wrists. “Hyung’s got you.”

As Jungkook sighs out his simultaneous disappointment and deep physical satisfaction, you fight a frown. The heat still burns between your legs, unquenched, yet nobody is paying you any mind. You’d been promised Jungkook once he passed his trials, and at the last moment that promise was taken from you.

You turn, looking up at Jimin with pleading eyes. “What about me?” you whine with a pout, propping your chin up on his knee.

He shrugs. “What about you?”

Your frown deepens. “Do I not get anything?”

Jimin’s brow lowers, making your stomach drop. “We have the generosity to let you watch while you’re on punishment and still it’s not enough for you? That’s awfully ungrateful, little mouse.”

Mouth dropping open, you turn to Hoseok, knowing if one of them thought one way, the other was sure to disagree. Much to your disappointment, he continues stroking Jungkook’s back and stares at you with an even expression. “Perhaps if Jungkookie held out,” he states flatly. “But he hasn’t earned you, and you’re certainly in no place to earn anything else. Why don’t you go get Jungkook some fresh water?”

“Hoseo-”

“Y/n,” he cuts through firmly, though not unkindly, “we decide whether you deserve pleasure or not for the rest of these twenty-four hours. Do you want to get on our good side or not? Think very carefully.”

You bite your tongue, scowl, and eventually get up to retrieve a bottle of refrigerated water for Jungkook to sip at.

For the rest of the day, you’re an errand monkey for most of the men in the house. They’re never outwardly rude or extreme about it, pushing you just enough to make it a punishment and an inconvenience without angering you.

It seems that, despite this golden opportunity, the impending elimination has not left their minds entirely. While you have to follow their every command, you ultimately will have the power tomorrow to punish them right back should they take things too far.

So you run back and forth, fetching snacks and drinks, folding Jin’s laundry, keeping count of Jungkook’s reps in the gym, washing the dishes after dinner for Yoongi.

The French maid outfit makes you feel stupid for the first few hours; the hem never sits below your ass properly, and the lace gets in the way. After a while, however, you tune it out, and take the time doing mundane tasks to observe the guys.

Jungkook and Hoseok spend the day pinned to each other’s sides, the former growing needy and clingy, Hoseok all too happy to indulge him. In the late afternoon, Taehyung goes over to Yoongi in the kitchen and questions him about the cooking process. Soon, Yoongi is patiently instructing him through every step of a basic spam fried rice with vegetables, the masseuse focused in until moments of triumph make him beam and cheer.

Jimin takes a nap outside soon after dinner, with the sun still keeping the air warm but mild under the shade of the patio. Namjoon, wandering around the house with a deck of flashcards, sees him and quietly tiptoes around the blue-haired man to drape a blanket over him. He remains close to the windows for an hour or two, keeping an eye on him until he wakes up.

Jin, who calls on you most during the day, is in a quiet mood. The comfortable kind of quiet where he’ll request your help on a simple job, and then take his time sitting with you, folding a single sock at a time to drag it out.

You don’t talk much together, but it’s nice to just be in his company. When you get sleepy, he commands you go upstairs and chill out for a bit, winking at you fondly as you go.

If you take advantage of the command to stay locked away for the rest of the night to avoid more demands, nobody interrupts you. Instead, you have a long bath early on and lay in bed, winding down after a strange weekend. Both yesterday and today have blurred together in your mind because of your early morning trip to Sejin’s van, and the upcoming meeting feels both overdue and premature.

You scroll on Twitter for a bit, comforted to see that the public consensus seems to be as divided as you are on who to eliminate, and it’s jarring to see clips of yourself and the others from alien angles posted for all to see. Knowing you’re being filmed is one thing, but it becomes easy to mentally sideline, and seeing compromising videos and images of yourself with the guys takes you a moment to process and get used to.

You spend longer than you’d like to admit curled up under the blanket, reading through opinions of viewers, some incoherent keysmashes and others length threads analysing your every interaction. You see some focusing on the moments shared between two or three specific guys, others that are centered around you and one other of them. Countless accounts seem to be made for or at least themed exclusively around the show you’re on, and you go down a rabbit hole until you feel even more confused than you were before you investigated.

Though it may be foolish, you set your alarm for tomorrow and decide it isn’t a decision you have to make for another few hours at least. Monday Y/n can deal with that choice. Sunday Y/n is fighting a yawn every minute, and you figure it’s best to just give in, settling in for a long night’s sleep.

VOTE VOTE VOTE this is the funnest time in tgm !

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #jin smut #the gentlemen

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alecxaheart · 3 years

Text

Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (2)

✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 5.5k words

✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.

✎ Warnings : Explicit Language

✎ Parts : 1 , 2

" Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.

You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "

Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "

Twin buildings towered above you two, heavy work's shouting for the both of you. You suddenly feel so small when you found out who this dude was in the company. Either way, you stepped inside the building next to him as if you're supposed to be. You don't have any other choice though unless you wanna be dragged by this buff guy and look like a fool rolling around since the thread is invisible to the public.

" I'm surprised that you don't know who I am, " He stated as you entered the elevator with him. You could tell how much of a fuss this is already when you walked in those doors alongside him.

" Does it really have to be my fault when I only started working here a few months ago, Mr. CEO? " He responded with a chuckle.

" It's Mr. Bang, well, at work. You can call me Chan when we're not. I don't like such formality and bringing work on my rest hours. "

" Oh, so you're that Mr. Bang. The one I hid from last night, " You whispered the last sentence.

" Pardon? " The elevator chimed as you reached your floor, opening its doors swiftly.

" It's.. It's nothing, " You stuttered and hastily stepped out of the elevator while Chan followed. " Why are we on my floor again? Isn't yours like, at the very top floor just to have that stunning view of the world or something? "

" Seems like some fanfiction you got there for me, " He chuckled first while you lowered your head in embarrassment. " But no, my office is at the opposite building, about two or three levels above yours which means it's the middle floor. In addition to that, I have to discuss matters with your boss due to some adjustments that we have over here, " He brought up his thumb to your view, talking about the red string. " Just hand over the documents then wait for me outside by the door, copy? " Chan explained as he stopped in front of a dark oak door, knocking on it three times.

" Adjustments? What- "

" Come in, " The voice on the other side of the door called out. You could've had a short session of hesitations first but this Bang Chan just opens the door widely and gives off such superior vibes that gave you the chills - like he should 'cause he's the CEO, he freaking owns the place. You did wonder why you haven't been fired yet after every informalities you've shown to him. What a great first impression you got there for a Chief Executive Officer, you're never gonna get a promotion to get out of this trashy position.

The surprising entrance of the uninvited and unexpected guest caught your boss off-guard. " Ah! G-Good morning, Mr. Bang! " Ms. Kang frantically stood up and bowed, her phone slipping off of her hands and onto the desk. Looking up, she saw you behind Chan, your hand fidgeting around the strap of your bag while head held down. " And Ms... (Y/N)? " She questioned as she averted her eyes back to Chan.

" Pardon me although I won't be here for long, I'm only handing you the documents like you instructed, Ms. Kang. " You said while handing her the documents. She took a quick scan on it before she gestured you to leave. Following Chan's instructions, you wait by the door as soon as you've shut it. Trying your best to not let curiosity get the best of you and eavesdrop, you distracted yourself by scrolling through your phone and jamming to some Monsta X's songs.

" May I ask what business brought you here to my office? "

" I'd like to compromise. "

It wasn't long that you've thought about getting fired and promotions, not even hours had passed.

Yet here you are, promoted and working as the CEO's assistant on that very day like it's the only choice. Standing on the polished marble floors, opposite side of the building, in his high-class office. It was spacious enough to fit two office desks and a lounge (probably for coffee breaks or small meetings) yet grand-looking with the accent walls and chandelier. The smell of lavender and the nice fluorescent glow it had made it better. Speaking of glow, you suddenly missed Kim Seungmin, the only co-worker friend you got. His bright presence who would constantly bother you from time to time during work hours. You can't really pinpoint whether he is an angel or demon with that fact because most likely you're the one being scolded instead of him. He better be jealous by the time he finds out you're now a CEO's Assistant.

" Ms. Kang got what she wished for in exchange for you getting the 2nd best achievable seat in the company, " Chan continued to elaborate the discussion in the room where it happened as he took a seat, not even bothering to help you fix your new desk if he was a gentleman. Honestly, it's undeniably comfortable being around this man despite you only got acquainted with him this day.

" Seriously? Can't you just promote me with a snap of your fingers? " You whined, arranging all of your things out from the container.

" Maybe if I had the infinity stones, " He first joked and you're not taking it. " Although it's Ms. Kang, there's an exchange for everything with her, " He casually said, looking through his emails with his chin resting on his fist.

" I- " Learn to shut your pesky little mouth, (Y/N). Your own conscience just sealed your mouth from babbling nonsense.

Well, let's think about the bright side. First up, you're promoted, meaning you'll get a way higher pay than before. Second, you're free from Ms. Kang's grasp. Third, Chan seems like a nice and chill boss. If your impression on him will be proven wrong, in any way he couldn't be as worse as Ms. Kang 'cause so far he saved your butt and doesn't mind your attitude.

" Ah, right. You're staying at my house for the meantime, " The book you're trying to place on the top shelf just fell on your head, making you lose your balance and fall to the ground. The loud thump made Chan glance at you, preventing himself from laughing. With your head aching and vision uneven, you tried to process what he said.

" What did you say? " Chan stood up from his chair and made his way towards you.

" I said you're staying at my house until we figure out how to break this thread off, " He answered as he offered a hand for you to take. This simple action made you tense, feeling your face heating up. You gladly took it with weak legs, though you eventually got back to your own feet without his support.

" Yours? Why not mine? I bet it's closer to work than yours. "

" You got a lot of complaints, I hope you know that. "

" No I'm not! Just.. talkative, " You bluffed, pouting. " And fine, your house then. Mine's probably not as presentable as yours anyway. "

This is the red string of fate that kept you two together the whole time, knotted around one another's finger securely. Both of you share the same thoughts while sitting on the couch in the living room of Chan's luxurious penthouse. It did offer extravagant views of Seoul from the top of the apartment, making everything feel so surreal. Could it possibly be malfunctioning? It's supposed to stretch out without limitations as well as it'll be invisible to the naked eye including yours, according to the tales and legends you've heard as a child. Most importantly, how could you break it off?

" Maybe this had to do something with the child, " Chan thought to himself, legs crossed and eyes trained down to the floor. " You cleared our schedule for the week, correct? " He looked towards you, catching your gaze on him.

" Yes, I did. Why? " You couldn't help but be enchanted in his brown eyes. It did look brighter in the sunset than before as the sunlight kissed his face. You wanted to take a closer look at it as to what it may hold within those orbs.

" You know the child back in the train? The one who placed this string of fate around our fingers? " With those words, you were snapped back into reality.

" Child? No? I was asleep, remember? " You looked away and a dog's appearance caught your attention, feeling soft and in 'awe' for it immediately. It had some large brown spots on its white fur, fluffy and has this wavy ears. It looks quite similar to that dog named 'Lady' in "Lady and the Tramp". Noticing that it was really friendly even with strangers, you patted its head lightly as it neared you. Chan witnessed you bond with his partner, smiling. The dog was ecstatic to make new friends with you that it jumped to your lap. Giggling, you ruffled its fur and kissed its forehead. " Seems like you're well loved, baby~ " You cooed, booping its nose.

" She's Berry, by the way. " Chan informed you while watching you play with berry's paws.

" I have to say, she's the cutest, " You flashed a beaming smile at him, eyes forming into crescents. Chan couldn't do anything but smile back, his heart slowly melting at the scene in front of him. You caught the sight of his dimples, which made you think that it's now one of your favorite features he has. If everyday's like this, it'd be such a bliss. Yet you know it'll somehow be just another memory you'll treasure since there will be an end to this.

Back to reality, Chan further tells you the details of the occurrences while you were sleeping. " Ah, right. About the child. If my memory serves me correct, he was blonde headed and had ocean blue-like eyes. He's about 4'6 feet in height and the one who placed this thread around our fingers. When I tried to run after him, he just vanished into thin air. "

" You sure you're not being delusional? " You carefully placed berry down on the couch then made your way to the kitchen.

" Positive. " He replied while petting his companion, who's getting some rest first, before following you. You asked him what his plans were, wrapping your fingers around the refrigerator handle. Opening it, you scanned for available foods due to your stomach being upset in this whole conversation. There's a lot of goods, especially meat. You're assuming that this man eats a lot even when he's on his own. While you were busy with that, Chan thinks of an itinerary for the whole week to get your own lives back. Until, his deep thoughts were interrupted by you.

" How about we eat dinner first so then you can plan properly, hm? You want steak? " You asked, placing the ingredients you need right in front of his view. His eyes just twinkled before you and were already on the raw steak, famished.

" Chris wants steak, please! " Enthusiastically said by Chris, giggling afterwards.

" Steak coming right up just for Chris! " He responded with a small clap, smiling ear to ear. You have to be honest, your first meeting with him is just the worst than any other possible happenings to you two's first meeting. Yet you're satisfied that at least you met him in some way that brought you closer, especially with this string of fate. And today's gonna be a long night for the both of you.

It's very late at night yet your body wouldn't let you rest despite Chan giving you his whole king-sized bed while he sleeps on his divan couch a few meters away, or so you thought he's fast asleep. Although the comforter, mattress, pillows, just the bed as a whole is definitely a 5-star, you can't really sleep easily in someone else's home that you just met. Minutes that felt like hours passed, your eyes were blankly staring at the ceiling. The silence was quite dreadful for you usually at night, which is what you get for watching a fairly ton of horror movies. With a few sessions of hesitations, you decided to break it by calling Chan first. " Psst. Hey Chan. Who designed your house? "

After a short pause, you received a fade sound of shifting and a groan. " A friend of mine. His name's Hyunjin. Why do you ask? " He responded, staring at the same ceiling as you. Arms resting behind his head.

You laid down on your stomach then propped your chin on your hands, facing him. " Is he cute? "

" Seriously, (Y/N)? " He deadpanned. " Also he's already Changbin's anyway so I suggest you stay away unless you want a death wish. "

" Okay, Okay. Chill. I'm just asking, " You rolled your eyes. " I just can't sleep. "

" I already offered you the best bed there is. " Chan looked at your direction and glared.

" It's not that. It's from the fact that I can't fall asleep easily in a stranger's house, that's for sure, " You shifted again in the soft cream cotton bed, letting your body sink. It's like you're laying on a relieving cloud in the heavens.

" We've already passed the stranger level. Let's say we're acquaintances. "

" That doesn't make any such difference especially to my problem but okay. " You pouted.

A long pause surrounded the room, the chills slowly creeping on to your skin. You covered your whole body with the warm comforter, feeling the slumber visiting you little by little. A yawn escaping your lips and eyes getting droopy. Pondering for a second before you let yourself sleep, you took a last glance towards Chan. " Are you cold? " You asked when you saw him without any blankets. He responded with a hum.

" A little bit. But I'll be alright, don't worry, " He yawned, eyes getting heavy as he slowly visited dreamland. " Goodnight, (Y/N). "

However, before you reply, you silently get off the bed when you're sure Chan's too tired to even open his eyes again. Making your way around the room with tippy toes until you found what you needed. You've gone over to his divan couch where he occupies it, placing the blanket you found on top of his and Berry's body, who happen to be sleeping peacefully right next to him. With a weak smile, you finally greeted him back before heading back to the bed and your slumber, " Goodnight Chan, Berry. Sweet dreams. "

Almost afternoon came but none of you decided to rise and shine, except for Berry who's starting to get hungry. It was indeed past her usual breakfast time and she doesn't seem to like the sound of having 'brunch'. So then to get what she needed, she has to be the doggo clock for today.

Berry starts barking the best that she could although it didn't make any much effect, Chan only responded by covering his ears and turning away while you stayed unbothered in your deep sleep. She proceeds to hop back on Chan's couch and licks his face, surely an effective way. He immediately flinched at the wet contact and moved Berry's face away from his, slowly opening his eyes to meet an adorable face smiling at him. " Good morning to you too, " He replied followed with a yawn.

The King Charles Spaniel dog makes her way out of the room after accomplishing step one. While Chan took his time before completely getting out of bed - or rather, couch. With a few stretches and after taking a glance at the time, he made his way out of the room to make breakfast. He glanced towards your sleeping figure. Mumbling a silent, " Thank you. " for what you've done to him in the middle of the night before carefully closing the door behind him.

Before he could even reach the kitchen, a tug from his thumb stopped him in his tracks. Chan forgot that the string of fate only has a length of 7 meters. Sighing, he went back to you and thankfully found you still fast asleep.

Chan sat down on the edge of the bed, your back facing him. Once more, his dark brown eyes gazed upon your sleeping beauty state underneath the sunlight. Once more, he admired this mesmerizing view of you for a good few seconds. He lightly tapped your shoulder, causing you to shift your body to face him while responding with a hum. " Good morning, it's time to rise and shine, " He greeted in his husky morning voice, unknowingly smiling sweetly at you. You replied with a groan, covering your whole body with the comforter. " C'mon, let's go and have breakky. "

" You should've woken me up when breakfast is ready, " You whined, your voice muffled underneath the comforter. Chan chuckled then pulled down the comforter away from your face, " I would've if it wasn't for this string. Now come on. ". You groaned, feeling defeated. Sitting up on the bed, you opened your eyes to meet Chan's face filled with softness and joy. Seeing that first thing in the morning made you smile. It was lovely.

A loud bark from outside of the room interrupted, assuming that Berry's dying of hunger. You instinctively hopped off the bed and hastily made your way to Berry, Chan followed suit. At the kitchen, you both found Berry sitting in front of her food bowl, whimpering. " Oh no, the baby's hungry, " You cooed as you knelt down to pet her. " Chan, you can start making our breakfast, " He followed your instruction, putting on an apron and started preparing you two's breakfast.

" Where's her food, by the way? "

" Are you sure we're gonna find him here? " You questioned, walking a little behind Chan at the same train station yesterday. His strides were big and quite fast which made it difficult for you to keep up at his pace. To the point that your eyes were set on the floor where you have a clear view of you two's feet. You're trying to match his pace but you immediately get worned out and fall behind once more. You guessed it was a CEO thing.

" Well, did you see him in any other places? " You fell silent, continuing to keep up with his pace. The fact that you've been asleep during that time and missed the chance to see who's behind this string of fate hit you. Chan's considered lucky to be awake and witness it.

Chan took a glance behind him to see your reaction, only to find you struggling to match with his settled pace. As soon as he noticed it, he slowed down and matched his pace with yours. Confused, you looked up at him. There were no signs of annoyance or pity on his face, and that made you delighted. What a considerate guy.

It wasn't that long until you both got in the train. The two of you sat down next to each other on a vacant bench and let the train lightly sway you as it starts moving. There was a comfortable silence lingering in the train car as you waited for this child to come into your view. Fortunately, the train's not as crowded as you thought it would be so it would be easier for you to spot the child.

After 3 more stops, you started to get distracted. Your eyes boring onto the view of the opposite window side. Chan kept cautious in his surroundings, still having high hopes of seeing the child's appearance. He didn't realize how much time had already passed and sooner or later, they'll reach the last stop. On the other hand, you slowly began to get drowsy. It's probably because you're sleep deprived for the past few weeks, over-working yourself since that Ms. Kang came into your life. You let your head rest on Chan's shoulder unconsciously which surprised him. With that, Chan first made sure you were comfortable, setting aside the thought of needing to meet the child. He hesitated first, though he did ended up wrapping his arm around you and kept you close to him. Feeling relaxed and secured, you shut your eyes as you slept in his warm embrace.

Chan noticed how much exhausted you are during the time he's been with you. He may not know exactly how tough your previous boss was to you, but it did show a huge impact on you. He thought that you looked so fragile underneath his touch, and he greatly feared the moment you might break. So he made sure to be careful with you. But other than that, he felt the urge - the need or wanting to protect you at that moment. He did questioned why, out of all people, he felt it from and because of you.

Maybe, it's because you looked so exquisite especially under the sunlight. Maybe, it's because he thought you looked adorable and amusing at the same time when you whine or complain. Maybe, it's because you're motherly especially to Berry.

Maybe, he just caught feelings for you. That's why he's questioning " why you? ", it was already love.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you never got to encounter the mysterious child once more. Days have already passed, it has been almost a week. Yet to you and Chan's dismay, no signs of the boy at all. The both of you began to lose hope and just give up. Especially you.

You felt guilty for being the least focused between the two of you, leaving Chan more responsibilities. Find the mystic child and to look out for you. You weren't really in the best shape right now, Chan knew that. You easily got tired, tend to oversleep, and you're hella pale, which you knew well that it isn't so you. " I'm sorry, " You mumbled weakly, your legs crossed and back lean on the couch pillows. Trying to not lay down and sleep more since you did just woke up from a faint.

Hearing this, Chan head over to you then immediately refused. " No, no, no. It's alright, no need to apologize. Just focus on getting better right now, okay? " You replied with a small nod, his warm hands were on yours. That simple touch always made your blood color your cheeks and feel so shy. He went back to the kitchen to continue preparing your dinner as soon as he is satisfied with your answer. In the mean time, Berry made sure to keep you busy and entertained.

While Chan's dicing some pork on a cutting board, he took a glance at the red string wrapped around his thumb. He noticed a small difference to it ever since the first day you both tried to look for the child. It had more of a faint color red, losing its opaqueness. Almost like it's about to vanish which is at some point is a good thing. Though it still has its limitations for length and never broke at your own will. He wondered if you have noticed it as well. What would it be like to be back on your own lives? Chan would be lying if he managed to picture that when he felt disheartened just at the thought of it. He got used to your small complaints, you baby talking and spoiling his dog, needing to be taken care of - when you're unable to do it yourself, even the pocket knife in your bag, that he couldn't imagine you being gone. You did became apart of his life afterall and that left him thinking of making you stay. Chan already figured that he's starting to like you back then on the train, 1st day of hunting down the child.

Which got him pondering. Concluding to a theory that maybe, this string of fate isn't going to vanish. It was only starting to get invisible to your naked eye, just like what you originally thought it would function. But it will always be there no matter what. This string of fate just happens to be more translucent the more you both realize how much you love each other.

Chan tore his gaze away from the string, switching to your pale figure in the living room. Once he knew he could leave the food cooking for a while, he grabbed a glass of water and went back to you. " You like that friend of yours, huh? " You referred to Berry's favorite dog plush. Seeing Chan in your peripheral vision, you locked eyes with him. Beaming him the sweetest smile you could muster which he instantly returned. He offered you the drink and you gladly took it into your hands. Taking a sip, you could feel Chan's eyes burning through your skin. Heat rushes to your face just by that. It's frustrating how you're so easy when he's by your side and only with him. Frequently getting the butterflies, timid, blushy, heart racing, distracted by how ethereal he is, and everything related. And you completely denied your feelings for him.

Chan took a seat beside you, now looking at the pitch black night sky out of his window walls. Those dark brown orbs showed a hint of disappointment. Following his gaze, you figured out the reason. The sky's literally pitch black, starless. As well as the moon being nowhere in sight. The melancholic sight did brought a frown to your face and you couldn't stand it. Looking back at him, you realized that there's no need for you to be crestfallen. In fact, you should be in awe.

It seems like Chan took and held the whole galaxy in his eyes that's why the night sky is empty. His eyes twinkling and shining in the darkness. Many must've envied him for that and it feels so surreal to witness it in by your very own eyes. To have it in front of you. And maybe, just maybe.

You do like Bang Chan.

" Where the hell are you taking me, Chan?! " You quietly panicked as Chan led you to an unfamiliar forest. Just the thought of the crawlies present in places like this made you shudder. " D-Do you really think the child would be brave enough to be here when I am already cowering in fear just looking at this? "

" We're not here for that child, " He chuckled at your state, continuing to walk ahead of you and deeper into the woods. Your wary eyes stayed restless, darting from left to right. " We're here to just relax. " Chan's voice began to echo the farther he is away from you.

You started to get pissed at how he started being inconsiderate and how relaxed he is right now, that's definitely not what you know about him. " What the fuck are you talking about?! So we're just wasting our ti- " The sudden raise of your voice resulted a noise in the forest - sounded like a bird flapping its wings. The sound made you flinch then you picked up your pace to get to him. You tugged onto Chan's jacket which caused him to stop and look back to you. " Chan, please, let's just go home. " You hushly pleaded from behind him, your head hung low in fear and embarrassment.

Sighing, Chan held both of your hands in his. Rubbing circles on it for you to ease up. The both of you still connected by the string of fate, which looks like it's bound to vanish soon. He also noticed how you're short in breath. " Easy, easy. Take deep breaths with me, yeah? " You matched his breathing with yours, eventually loosening up in his warmth like always. You just felt so safe and secure when you're with him. " Let's proceed? I promise you that when we get there, it'll be worth it. " He reassured, never leaving his grip on you.

" Chan.. " You whimpered and Chan instantly hushed you.

" If it makes you feel better, I'll never let go of you, " Oh how you wished that'll last forever. " Sounds good? " You nodded hesitantly.

With that, you let Chan lead you towards his destination. The comfort of his hands wrapped around yours never left on the way just like he promised. It wasn't too long until you saw light at the end of the forest. You could hear faint sounds of waves meeting the seashore and birds singing a melody. The fear you had a while ago slowly washed away as you're nearing the place.

Reaching the light, you witnessed the jaw dropping sight of the beach on the other side of the fence. Like Chan said, it is promising and worth it. He guided you in hopping onto an enormous boulder to get to the other side and you didn't complain, you're too drawn into the beach. In excitement, you went ahead of Chan, letting go of his grasp. Your feet immediately ushering you to the seashore where you could feel the cold water at your toes. As soon as you got here, you felt like you were cleansed. As if the sea took every problem, worries and fears away from you. It was healing and just the thought of it made you smile unknowingly. You never knew you needed this until now, it has been years since the last time you've been this carefree.

On the other hand, Chan's seated at his usual place. Where he could take in the whole view. Now that you were apart of it, everything seemed to set into place for his secret escapade paradise. All felt just right. The way you dance with the waves, moving with the sea, completely letting the rhythm of the water set yourself free. Plus the wind blowing your hair, your face glowing underneath the sun, how blinding your smile was at that moment, he cherished it all. " Perfect with no reasons, " Chan thought out loud as his eyes were trained on you. Unbeknownst to him, it was loud enough for you to hear it clearly.

" Perfect? " You questioned, making your way to his side. His eyes widened, alarmed. Chan looked away without hesitation. The tip of his ears starting to turn red in embarrassment. You sat down next to him, knowing that you'll be bringing some sand in your pockets back home. Noticing his ears, you let out a hearty laugh. " Aww, look at you! "

" I know, I know, " He started, covering his ears. " I'm helpless. "

" Huh? What are you talking about? " You asked while tilting your head to the side in confusion. There was a short pause, only the sound of waves continuously ringing in the area could be heard. As well as the sound of leaves rustling while the wind whispers sweet nothings to it and palm trees swaying from side to side.

" Like- "

" If this is you doubting yourself again, gosh Chan you're not the helpless one between the two of us. " You pointed out with your arms crossed. " You're a CEO of a well known company! Plus, who took care of me? You. Who saved my ass from Ms. Kang? You. Who just comforted me a while ago? You. You are never incapable or weak. If anyone told you otherwise, I- "

" I'm helplessly in love with you is what I meant, (Y/N)! " Chan confessed, now facing you.

Then, the thread in your fingers entirely loosened without any of you knowing.

The two of you locked eyes for a minute. Both surprised by everything, especially you. The wind did whisper something to the two of you, too. Yet it's difficult to figure it out at the moment. Even in broad daylight, his eyes still held the whole galaxy. And you could never let that dim.

" You walked into my life as if you've always lived there, like my heart was a home built just for you, " Chan continued, his hand already searching for yours. Looking down at your now intertwined hands, eyes filled with pure love and adoration. " It fits just like a glo- "

Perfect with no reasons.

Chan was taken by surprise at your sudden answer. You cutted him off, attaching your lips to his. Your free hand finding itself cupping his face. He then passionately responded to the kiss, his arm snaking its way around your waist to keep you close - now that the string of fate is invisible and endless. The kiss resulted you to feel so lightheaded. The softness of his lips brought you to euphoria, everything just felt so right in place. In the end, both of you were left breathless. You couldn't do anything for a few seconds after, keeping your eyes closed with mouth agape of you to try let your mind process what just happened.

You did't need for him to explain or give you anymore reasons why he loves you. The string of fate has always been the answer, reason and explanation to your love. Ever since the beginning, you and Chan are destined to meet regardless of the time, place or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle but nothing could break it and never will. You're one another's someone's someone who you can't live without.

End.

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knockknockchicagopd · 3 years

Text

❛ BLACK JACKET WITH WHITE LETTERS ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Would I be able to request prompt 16 “You're mine. I don't share”. With Hank voight where they go to one of those police events and she works in his unit and they are a couple with her being younger and they dont have to be in police uniform so she wears a really nice dress and as he introduces her and talks to other people he knows, some of the men check her out and try flirt with her and he notices. Could there be a bit of smut if not that's cool to ❤❤

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 3k.

❚❙ Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡

Fortunately, it's been a quiet day, otherwise, you couldn't deal with a Districts event like the Commanders call them. A meeting that reunites every officer, inspector, detective, and whoever who wears ‘the blue uniform’; including special agents from the FBI. These last ones are the kind of man who pushes you out of your good mood with all that quackery about serving the whole country, the unlimited resources, the missions. Every time you hear a fed talking about how passionate and exciting their jobs are, you just want to punch their faces. Mostly, they're behind a desk while cops like you are protecting the streets of Chicago in the firing line. But, as Burgess and Upton said, it's time to have some fun. And anything else.

Since you don't have to wear that horrible uniform you use at official events, you have chosen a breathtaking black silk dress that fits your anatomy to perfection, falling from your chest, with a spaghetti strap neckline, to your ankles. And a pair of skyscraper highlights on the same color, with the small difference that the heels are tremendously golden. Your back is almost bare, being crossed by four fine strips, knowing it's going to give Hank some trouble. Oh, you're going to have so much fun tonight. You are very sure.

The soft make-up delights your cute, but lethal, outfit on point ready to leave Kim's house accompanied by your friends. You've arranged to meet at the party with the rest of the Unit since your future husband and Antonio needed to be from the start of the event, which means the three of you are going to earn more than some gazes by assisting alone, with no male figures by your sides. As if you need some kind of protection. Men (...).

Stepping out from your car and giving the keys to the parking attendant, who seems he's having a heart attack after watching you walk with so much cockiness and sensuality, you come into the party. The look you exchange with Kim and Hailey as soon as you check the reaction of the assistants, makes you draw a triumphant smile while raising your chin in some kind of greeting. You aren't going to stop now, leading your steps straight to your partners. Ruzek chokes on champagne with his eyes over Burgess, while Hank looks at you over the edge of his glass of bourbon taking a sip.

“You should work like that every day”. Antonio opines welcoming the three of you in his arms.

“I second that, brother”. Jay quickly adds making a toast with his cup of red wine.

“Bet you'd be the one who wouldn't work”. Hailey replies palming his chest, making you giggle.

In the meantime they continue arguing about the dress code, a strong arm gets placed around your lower back to push you somewhat closer, letting his hand fall over your hipbone. You know exactly what it means. Hank isn't the kind of jealous man, who needs to mark his territory like a dog. But you know that sometimes he feels insecure because of the age gap. He trusts you blindly, that's a fact, but he's human; he has fears and you understand it. Putting your left hand on the back of his neck, you caress his scalp almost unnoticeably, tilting your head to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek earning a satisfied grin from him.

“You look really beautiful tonight”. He whispers, watching you sideways as if it's a secret between you two.

“Thank you, Sergeant. I always try to do my best”.

Hank chuckles against his glass about to have a last sip till emptying it. Taking it from his hand, you pull yourself away to go to the bar and ask for two more drinks. You're thirsty and too sober to be a Friday night. Checking some emails on your phone while the bartender serves your order, you can't help but listen to some backtalk about your career. A couple of suited men combed as politicians and wrapped on a strong scent that throws your stomach. You try to ignore them until they're close enough from your position to offer you a hand in a formal greeting.

“Johnson and Derrick. FBI”.

The blonde one looks like a senior official, while the other looks like a newbie. Turning towards both, you come into the forced polite mood to stretch his hand firmly.

“(Y/L/N), Intelligence Unit, gentlemen. A pleasure”.

“The pleasure is ours, detective”.

“Special agent”. You correct him inevitably, even if it sounds arrogant.

“Special agent, of course”. Johnson replies with a nod of his chin. “I've read your file lately. I have no words to describe it. Graduated with excellent grades in Yale, two years in the Army, another undercover in a Cartel… And you also know how to fly a helicopter”.

“If you weren't from the FBI, I could think you've been stalking me like one of your serial killers, sir”. The sarcasm in your tone of voice earns your Unit's attention, very focused on the conversation between the feds and you.

“Who catches a monster without becoming one, right?”

The man introduces a hand under his jacket to offer you his business card. But you don't take it, just looking at it for a second before raising your eyes towards his.

“In your academy shows you to have the big balls to disrespect a Sergeant or a Chief, by trying to steal their officers in front of their faces? Because mine shows us to serve and protect the citizens”.

His gesture changes suddenly in a sight, hearing some chuckles behind you coming from Hailey and Kim. Raising both eyebrows as you don't get any reply back, you just nod before grabbing the two drinks you have asked for when they interrupted you. Coming back to your friends, you can't help but wrinkle your nose in a gesture of disgust earning more giggles from your partners. But it doesn't seem funny for Hank, who you know he's killing them in thousands of ways inside his head.

As the night passes, you notice Agent Johnson's eyes on you with no shame, starting to make you feel uncomfortable. Although you would be delighted to embarrass him in front of everyone, he has had enough from you. But this doesn't end there. Excusing yourself, you step to the terrace almost emptied to have some fresh air, knowing he's going to follow you. Maybe, to insist a little more. He was so interested in recruiting you to miss the chance.

And as you thought, he's that predictable. You don't turn because of his steps coming closer, but because he pretends to clear his throat to claim your attention. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to a side feigning curiosity with a forced smile showing up on your lips.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior. In my profession isn't habitual to find agents of your characteristics”.

“For sure, sir. It doesn't matter”.

“You could have an extraordinary career in the FBI”.

“I already have it where I am. I don't need schedules, cheap suits, and an earpiece to succeed”.

“I understand your relationship interferes in your decision, but you do—”.

“I'm sorry, you said what? Did you…? Oh, god, I can't fucking believe it”. You can't help but laugh shaking your head. “I don't have any relationship as soon as I wear my badge, sir. And you are starting to cross a line you don't want to cross. Believe me”.

“Ma'am, don't misunderstand my words, nor my intentions. I just think ma—”.

“Nobody asked you to think, Johnson”.

Raising your eyes over his shoulders, you can see your boyfriend sipping his glass of whisky, joining the talk as he tries to keep calm. You know Hank to perfection. If he wasn't your boss, he would have punched him already.

“If you continue pissing off my agent, we're gonna have a problem”.

The man just nods, alternating his gaze between the two of you. Seems that he has admitted his defeat.

“Beautiful and lethal. You're a son of a bitch with so much luck, Voight. Take care of this diamond. Or she will end up wearing a blue jacket with yellow letters”.

“Uh-huh”. He replies as you continue remaining silent.

Passing your boss away back to the party, leaving you alone, you can't hide the proud smile that turns your gesture into a funnier one. Taking short steps towards him, you steal the glass from his hand to drink from it under his attentive brown eyes.

“Blue isn't my color. Not at all. I'm more into black”. You whisper referring to the jackets you are used to wearing in the Chicago department.

“Hm…”

“Imagine having your badge hanging from your neck all day like a collar. Do I look like a dog? I prefer to have it on my belt. And I'm already used to the disgusting watered coffee we make in the twenty-one”. As you continue giving him more reasons, your forefinger traces a path up from his chest to his nape. “And I have so much fun driving my Dodge all around Chicago”.

“Anything else you wanna add?”

“Hm… no. Actually, not. That's all, sir”. You reply puckering your lips, pulling yourself away some inches with a playful aura wrapping you both.

“Now lemme tell you something here”. Hank says then, leaning over your ear. “You're mine, I don't share”.

His voice and his characteristic raspy voice gives you some chills down your spine bone. Biting your bottom lip unconsciously while he stands up, you know the party is over for you and it's time to go home. Holding your hand and taking back his glass of whisky, you walk inside to say your goodbyes before leaving the fancy place straight to the underground parking. You are not going to lie saying you don't love his dominant mood when the occasion demands it.

As soon as you reach your car, you can notice sideways Hank making sure you're totally alone. He doesn't usually take risks of being seen in public too lovey-dovey, but it's not about it this time and you can't wait for him to go ahead with his intentions. Of course, he doesn't make you wait for too long to push your back to the copilot door, attacking your neck in the meantime his hands grab your hips stealing you a low gasp. Hank makes himself between your legs, urging you to surround his waist with one of them to close the distance that separates you, feeling the need he has to mark his territory, as rarely he shows.

“Take me home”. You almost beg closing your eyes as his teeth are nailed on your most sensitive spot, earning a soft grunt that vibrates your body.

“I'm gonna take you here, sweetheart. Any problem?”

“Hell, no, sergeant”.

“Get in the car. Now”.

You don't complain, taking it as an order when he takes two steps back releasing your body and opening the back door for you. And the next minute passes too fast, rolling up your dress as Hank undoes his belt and unzips his pants. In just a sigh he's deep-buried between your legs. It's the first time you take this kind of risk, almost in public, and the horniness it produces is driving you crazy. With your lips almost touching the others, you moan uninhibited every time his hands on your lower back urge you to keep swinging your hips, sitting on his lap.

The way his eyes memorize every gesture drawn on your face has you breathless. It's a sensation you can't describe. Hank has some kind of power over you that you haven't experienced before, even if you think you're indomitable he always manages to make whatever he wants with you. And you know it. You let him do it. Just like right now, marking his territory with desirous bites and wet kisses all around your exposed throat. The most visible part of your body. He doesn't need to prove anything. He isn't the kind of man who needs to call out any other man who dares to lay his eyes on you. Everybody in this damn city knows you're more than his pupil and they're too scared to say hi, although there's always an exception to the rule. In this case, the FBI agents acting like carrion birds.

The mist clouds the windows, as the heat concentrated on your bodies makes you sweat slightly. Hank takes the control turning you under his body against the seat in a position that puts you to see the stars. Every move of his pelvis is accurate, hitting your g-spot, satisfied with how good his name sounds getting drowned between pleased moans once and again. With every push to your body, his dick is dug deeper through your tight wetness making him grunt into your ear, feeling more delighted than never before. And everything is because of the way you had to reply to that FBI agent in front of everyone, showing him how clear you have your preferences; not only because of your relationship, as Johnson pointed out. But because everybody in Chicago is aware that there's no better boss in law enforcement. There's no better Unit than the Intelligence one from the police department of your hometown.

As your legs get wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, one of his arms surrounds your middle back while his free hand flies straight to your throat. Keeping your eyes closed, the suffocating sensation within your lower belly continues growing with every thrust that steals the air from your lungs and races your heart over its possibilities. You're close. So close that your mind is a total blank, just focused on the way only he can make you feel. So good, so desired, so full of life. He knows it, he takes it in advantage. And he enjoys it more than anything.

“Oh, fuck…” Hank got you almost in tears because of the pleasure, traveling your hands to the back of his neck, nailing your nails there. “God… I'm gonna… Fuck, Hank, don't stop, please… Don't stop”.

“I won't, my love… Not till you give me what I want”.

His voice always plays dirty with your mind. The way he has to drag every syllable on his tongue with that husky voice that puts you to tremble, as he continues burying his hard dick inside you with no mercy, speeding up as soon as he feels your legs clung to his body slightly shaking. Because of the fewer insecurities he has about your relationship, he feels proud whenever he makes you reach that sweet sensation of the orgasm taking control of your anatomy. He doesn't care if he has to use his hands, his tongue… whatever. It's not only about sex between the two of you, of course not. But making you cum screaming out his name is an every-day-goal.

And you don't make him wait for too long, arching your back when a lash of heat hits your spine and the grenade inside your lower belly explodes. Your gasps fill up your car, while he continues fucking you harder than seconds before not showing any compassion to your exhausted body, looking for your lips to devours them desperately. His tongue starts a fight for dominance, winning over yours like every single time, in the meantime his fingers grips tightly your throat. Instinctively, you swing your hips in sync, provoking every move to go deeper among your shaky legs.

Hank can't hold it anymore, digging his cock to the limits of your guts, almost hitting your soul with a last strong lung. His warm seed fills you up completely, keeping pushing his body against yours, pressing both to the seat with his hands now placed on the headrest. It feels like a whole set of fireworks. Your moans complement his delighted growls to perfection.

“Don't move, please”. You beg with a thin voice thread, at the same time he rests his forehead on yours.

The two of you can barely breathe, trying to recover after an intense session of your favorite cardio workout. From nowhere, you can't help but giggle in unison. You can't believe you just fucked inside your car and with the risk of being caught in the act. A sergeant and one of his special agents. Even if it's your free night and you're in an established relationship, he's still your boss.

“I would miss working with you”.

“Huh?”

“If I get the FBI's offer”. You mumble, leaving clumsy kisses all around his face. “You're the best cop Chicago has”.

“You don't have to butter me up for a second round”.

Shaking your head briefly and laughing, you caress his scalp so gently as he sinks his face into your sweaty neck.

“Now you said so… maybe I have the fantasy of being bent over your desk”.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, just… maybe”.

“Then maybe I could bring you to my office, before going home. There's some paperwork to attend to”.

#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #hank voight imagine #hank voight x reader #hank voight

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nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Note

hey!! could i get a nagito x tired!reader oneshot where the reader hasn't slept for awhile and komaeda is trying to make them sleep?

Mod Mikan: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! Schoolwork has been piling up and I want a good job in the future. Thank you for your patience, darling, it means a lot :) And I’m so sorry if the ending is rushed, I really wanted to get this out for you, and I was a bit distracted. I’m really sorry, please forgive me!

(Y/D/J): Your dream job

(F/C): Favorite Candy

"Oh, you’re the ultimate (Y/T)?! Wow, that’s amazing! It must be so much fun having an astonishing talent like that!”

That’s barely scratching the tip of the iceberg

I loved my talent. I really did. Without the skills that I possessed, even before Hope Peak’s academy, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Back in high school, it was safe to say that my professors and classmates helped developed and shape my abilities even more. Now, I work as a(n) (Y/D/J). While my job had it perks, the word ‘fun’ wouldn’t really be the right word to describe it

In my opinion, I’d rather use to the term ‘grueling’

My long-term boyfriend, Nagito, claims that my talent was gifted from heaven since birth. He even called me his ‘angel of hope’ since I believed I was a gift from heaven bested upon him as his ‘ultimate good luck’. While that was an exaggeration, it was also only partially true. I loved to believe that I’ve always had my passion for (Y/T), however my hard-work and determination also played a major aspect in my success

Despite my high work-ethic and strive for perfection, I was nothing more than human. After a few months working in my dream job, I started to feel the after effects of the tiring tasks that was dumped on my already heavy schedule

Racking my brain from these thoughts, I let out a heavy exhale, turning my house key into the lock. I entered my shared house with my boyfriend, tossing my keys onto the foyer table. With the literal kick of taking off my heels, I threw my cross-bag onto the couch as soon as my fatigue eyes fell upon it. Oh, how I wouldn’t give to take even a five minute nap on it. In anyone’s eyes, it just looked like a fuzzy, beige couch. But it was a bed made of clouds in my worn-out brain. I ran a hand through my (H/C) locks, a sour expression forming on my face

When was the last time I actual had a proper night of sleep?

I moved away from the living room, making my way into my home office. As much as I wanted to at least try to get some shut eye, I was still knee deep in work. Nagito didn’t work, due to his mental health. He was usually home almost all the time, either taking care of the cleaning or chores. Today was one of the rare nights he wasn’t home. I focused my weary orbs onto a note stuck onto the fridge, messily written in blue ink

Hajime needed some help with something, so if I’m not home when you come back, you know why. I’m sorry I didn’t text you, it was an urgent call. I hope you understand, my beloved hope. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you so much, angel girl! XOXO

-Nagito

A sigh escaped my pink lips, as I treaded towards my home office. I practically melted into the cushioned seat of my desk chair, wanting to sleep right there, right then. But I knew I still had assignments to catch up on, along with overdue paperwork that was waiting to be faxed to the office. An annoyed click of my tongue fell after the drained sigh I just let out, as I poked my finger at my computer monitor, waiting for it to load

*****************************************************************************************************

2:41 am

My dearest apologizes for not emailing this sooner to you, Mr. Grant. I was finishing up another project I had, but I managed to squeeze some time to inform you that the papers you needed filled out are done. I will be sending you the rest in three to five business days. In the meantime, I hope that what I have attached will suffice. Please let me know if--

“(Y/N)?”

My swivel chair squeaked, as I felt the seat turn around with a swift motion of a hand that was not my own. I eyes were ripped from the incomplete email that was meant for my boss. Instead, my eyes were forced to see my pale skinned boyfriend that was standing in front of me. His eyes were filled with worried, all of his usual cheerfulness drained from them. He extended a hand of concern towards me, a box of (F/C) tucked underneath the other one

“Huh? N-Nagito? Welcome back. Is everything okay with Hajime? You were out pretty late,” I crooked out, my voice getting more sapped by every passing minute. He nodded, placing the candies onto my office desk, but quickly turned his attention back to me. He placed a gentle hand onto my shoulder, closing a few inches of space between us

“There was an emergency, but everything is fine now, darling. But...I’m not so sure, seeing your state. You look exhausted,” He frowned, making me look down. My gaze from the floor only lasted a split second, as I pair of skinny fingers lifted my chin to look at Nagito’s green orbs again

“(Y/N), when was the last time you slept? Be honest with me,” He softly demanded, forcing me to come clean. Nagito was no fool. He was more observant and intelligent than the average person, regardless of how much he speaks down about himself. There was no point in lying in a failed attempt to make him feel better

“A good....three....to five.....business days.....” I scowled, crossing my arms. Nagito let out a long exhale, however something about it just made me more mortified with myself. It was the kind of ‘disappointed, overprotective’ spouse sigh. He turned to me with his upset expression, making my heart slowly break

“Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)?” He asked me, prying even more hidden information from me. With another suspire, laced with a hint of self-irritation, I unraveled what has been flooding my sleep-deprived mind to my long-term boyfriend

“I just.....want to be hopeful...the angel of hope like you always tell me that I am...” I weakly smiled at him, but knew that it wasn’t the best time to paint a thin coat of fake happiness to this pathetic condition. My meek beam was replaced with my previous scowl

“Everyone always thinks that my job is...’fun’ and I’m so lucky to have it. I didn’t want to look weak, asking people for help....or....or even telling someone I can’t take it....I can take it, Nagito. Really.....I just don’t want to disappoint anyone that believes in me...including you,” I finished, huffing at the end. I was a successful in hiding the tears that were begging my eyes to let them out. But I didn’t allow it

Be strong, (Y/N). Be strong.....

It was no secret that Nagito was huge on compliments. He was my number one supporter in everything I did. He praised all my efforts, believed in me more than anyone else, and showered me with affection and love, even if I lost a personal battle. He was a bit hypocritical, wanting to focus on building my own self-confidence rather than his, but besides that he was the perfect, loving boyfriend. Still, every time he cheered me up and managed to put a smile on my face....I couldn’t help but feel like the most loved person in the world. After all these years....all his efforts, despite him confessing he wasn’t the best at comforting others, made my heart flutter

After all, his beloved hope was feeling despair? Not on his watch!

So this didn’t surprise me

“(Y/N), my darling angel....don’t fuss over this. I mean...you need despair to feel hope,” He began to speak. He took this opportunity to tenderly grab my hand, pulling me from my chair. I thought he was going to lead me to our bedroom, but instead the hand that pulled me closer to him wrapped around my back. He closed the space between us, practically slamming me into his lanky figure. With his other hand, he wrapped it around my legs, scooping me up bridal style

“N-Nagito?! I know I’m tired, but I can walk myself!” I requested from him, raising my voice as loud as I could. However, due to my fatigue, my ‘yelling’ voice was nothing above a normal speaking tone, as Nagito still carried me to the bed, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. I rolled my eyes, but wrapped my arms around his neck

He laid me down on our bed, crouching down to my height. He still kept his cheeky grin on his face, crossing his arms. I couldn’t help but smile myself, knowing that Nagito had the cutest plans to make his angel feel better when they were down in the dumps

“Now, let me bring that hope back inside you. Shall I prepare some Chamomile tea with a plate of (F/C)? When I was coming home from Hajime’s, I noticed the 24 hour store only had one box left of them,” He admitted, provoking a pink colored blush on my cheeks. It was so like Nagito to do something like that, always thinking about what his lover would want

I couldn’t just say ‘yes’ without gushing about how lucky I was to have this man in my life. I just nodded, squeaking out a small ‘thank you’ filled with an endearing amount of affection. He smiled gently at me, kissing my forehead before draping our blanket around my body, leaving the room. I hugged the sheets close to my body, waiting for the marshmallow haired man to come back. Upon returning with the tea and plate of candies, he took his side of bed and handed me the treats. After I was done with the snacks and warm beverage, Nagito took them from me, setting the dirty cup and plate on the dresser on his side. Before I could even express my gratitude towards Nagito, he wrapped his arms around my once again, pulling me close to him. I felt our bodies rock back and forth, as he snuggled his head on top of mine

I could tell Nagito wanted cuddles and to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.....

At least that’s what he wanted to do for me. He just shushed me every time I tried to thank him for taking good care of me. He stroked my hair tenderly whispering to me “You don’t need to thank you, angel. I’ll do anything to see that smile” and “I love you so much, my hope. You just relax, I got you,” He warm breath hit my face, making me feel cozy inside. He cradled me back in forth, singing softly. He was never confident in his singing skills (or anything he did), but I absolutely adored it. After I heard his voice die down after several minutes of staying like this, I yawned one last time for the night, feeling my fatigue take over my body. I was in a much more comfortable position, in my lover’s arms, as I dozed off into sleep

I could’ve sworn that Nagito smiled softly, his hand never stopping the journey of roaming through my (H/C) locks. I felt another kiss being pressed onto my forehead and something along the lines of this filled my ears before I was out like a light

“Sweet dreams, my hope. I love you so much....”

Bonus:

“What the hell is this?!” Your boss, Mr. Grant, exclaimed as he reread the threatening email he was sent

Let all your employees have the week off or bad things will happen

Thank you!

“Who the hell could’ve sent something like this?! I’m not going to give them the week off over a ridiculous email!” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the email that was supposed to scare him into closing his office for the week. He began to type a nasty reply to the sender, disagreeing with the what he thought was nothing more than an empty warning made by a coward

Sent!

A smirked curved onto the sender’s lip, seeing the new email on his phone. Lanky fingers ran through a pair of (H/C) locks, yet again, as a precious angel was asleep on their shared bed. Careful not to wake his lover up, Nagito began to dig through the tabs on his safari phone app, eager to make a bomb

“Serves him right for overworking my precious angel of hope......”

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito komeada kin #nagito headcanons #nagito oneshots #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa #danganronpa x y/n #nagito x you #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa goodbye despair

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ka-writes · 3 years

Text

——————

Notes: I had already started on the second chapter before I posted the first one, so don’t expect updates every day... I also had to do a lot of googling for this chapter.

——————

Chapter 1 in case you missed it:

——————

Inspired by:

Humans are Space Velociraptors

By:FreshRoses_InMyGarden_NeedTheRain

Some kids come from storks, others come from crashed spaceships

By: mmmajora

Home Again, Home Again

By: teeth_eater

All works can be found on Ao3

——————

Warnings: Cussing, needles, character conflicts, intentional poisoning, poisoning, Jaws reference

——————

“Humans are [and text here]”

Chapter 2: What is this, an interview?

Tommy was now restrained to a chair six feet away from the weird scientist alien. He had a dark brown lab coat with a fuzzy yellow sweater underneath, matched with black pants and black leather boots. His gold rimmed Harry Potter glasses slipped down his nose bridge a bit before he pushed it up and shuffled through papers. He wore a red beanie with a big whiff of his curly chocolate hair. His skin was a weird translucent grayish color with blue speckles decorating it. He had deep brown eyes with an odd electric blue circle outlining the pupil.

His tongue licked his finger as he turned the page. This was a habit that most of the weird teachers and counselors did. It always annoyed Tommy. This time fear was also mixed into that annoyance. His saliva was tinted blue and he had sharp teeth which immediately reminded him of a shark.

“You have shark teeth.” Tommy stated absentmindedly. Clearly, this caught the scientist alien off guard.

“I have what?” The alien asked, confused.

“Shark teeth.. ya know like the weird fish creatures that eat people.” Tommy started rambling causing the shark-alien to become even more confused and slightly alarmed. “I mean I think they eat people. That’s what the shark movie showed… what was its name, Jaws I think? I dunno, my foster mom freaked out in the middle of it and we went home. That lady was weird.. She made us wear itchy clothes and take weird photos before she sent me back to the group home.”

“What?..” The shark-alien asked. Tommy jumped a bit. He forgot he was rambling to a stranger. Alien stranger at that.

“Doesn’t matter.. What's the first question bitch-boy?” Tommy liked the way the alien jumped at the randomly timed insults.

“Er- right.. First off, what’s your name?” The shark-alien asked after collecting himself.

“Tommy Innit. Yours bitch-boy?” Tommy replied.

“Wilbur Soot. Stop calling me bitch-boy!” Wilbur huffed.

“Next question, bitch-boy!” Tommy emphasized the name, getting an even angrier expression in return. Wilbur’s weird blue circle flashed red for a second which caught Tommy off guard.

Wilbur took a shaky breath before asking the next question. “How old are you?”

“Old enough! I am a big man!” Tommy stated. Yet another thing that pissed him off.

“Age?” Wilbur asked, clearly irritated.

“18.” Wilbur raised a brow, “14.” Tommy huffed. His age should only be his business not some alien-bitch who didn’t even have his file.

“If you keep lying, I may have to get the truth serum from the back.” Wilbur half-heartedly threatened. Tommy, the big man that he is, did not get scared at that statement, only slightly unsettled which clearly showed on his face.

“Now, do you have a family?” Tommy tensed at the question. It was a touchy question and was not one that was asked often especially with his reputation.

“I am a big man. I don’t need a family to be great.” Tommy stated, happy with the answer. The alien-bitch shifted awkwardly.

“Right… What is your diet?”

“Umm.. I dunno, whatever I can find. I am allergic to nuts though..” Wilbur nodded in understanding and wrote things down in his notepad.

“What plants are poisonous to you?” Wilbur asked without looking up from his notes.

“Ermm, poison Ivy, poison oak… uh I think parts of rhubarb, and most wild berries. I am not sure other than that.” Wilbur nodded while adding bits to his notes.

“What was the place you lived like?” This time Wilbur glanced up to look at Tommy. This was again another touchy subject… How many times would this alien bitch get into the sad background?

“Shitty.” Tommy snapped. That was the only response the bitch was gonna get.

“Right.. Do you have music on Earth?”

Tommy scoffed, “Of course we have music, dumbass!”

“Can you tell me about the animals there?” Wilbur asked, almost hopeful.. which was weird. What was he hoping for?

“Erm I guess..” Tommy mumbled, trying to figure out where to start, “There’s a bunch of animals. Mainly on land. My favorite would be the cow.”

“What’s that?” Curiosity stained Wilbur’s face. This got Tommy excited; he was practically beaming as he started talking.

“Well they are these big ruminants that make milk and have horns. There are a bunch of types too like the highland cow, which obviously is the most poggers one. They are a Scottish breed with really long hair. I met one once, on a field trip his name was Henry.” Tommy rambled on for the next two and a half hours, jumping from topic to topic and explaining anything that wasn’t personal. He usually ended those paths with short insults.

——————

Wilbur hated to stop the kids' detailed story, but two and a half celestial hours had already passed, and Dream would be coming to check soon. Luckily, he had a couple new poisons that could pass off as a research development. He had even managed to send the distressed signal and no doubt Phil would already be there with the SBI craft ready to fly at any given moment.

“Alright Tommy.” His voice dropped to a serious tone causing the kid to stop his story of how he got poisoned by mushrooms on a camping trip. “You’re gonna have to trust me just for a bit. I am going to get you off the ship at the next stop but in the meantime I need you to tell me how allergic you’re to nuts.” The kid immediately tensed at the question.

“I am mainly allergic to tree nuts.. almonds being the worst. After a few minutes I can’t breathe properly and I usually pass out. The doctor said if I don’t get it treated within 15 minutes, death is most likely.” He took a moment to go through the information. The kid most likely has an anaphylaxis reaction to tree nuts. Meaning either he would have to know the exact time of landing and exactly where Phil was or he needed another poison that was less severe.

“Alright, here is what we’re gonna do. I have a chemical mixture that is similar to that of rattlesnake venom. I also have a chemical substance that numbs any pain you may feel. Side effects would include being very very tired and delirious over the next few days. Along with being knocked out for a good ten hours. To put it simply I am gonna fake poison you, in order to get you off the ship. It’s your choice if you’re willing to do it.” Wilbur paused to study the kid still restrained in front of him. It was odd how relaxed the kid seemed to be in a situation like this. He had no urge as far as Wilbur was aware, to fight against anything that happened. His complaints only being those that touched on personal matters. It was unsettling to say the least, and intrigued Wilbur. He really wanted to unravel the life the kid had lived before this and how he was actually dealing with the situation.

There was a long pause before the kid spoke, “I wouldn’t mind getting away from the weird smiley bitch.. plus you seem nice and to know what you’re doing so sure. Poison me bitch.” He said the last sentence with an enthusiasm Wilbur wasn’t expecting. He took a moment to rethink his plan, which was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Dream says you better have advanced in your stupid testing. Otherwise he’s gonna kick you off the ship at the next stop.” Stated the rather rude blazeling, Sapnap. The blazeling never liked Wilbur and made a point to argue against any advancements at meals. That led to Dream installing a new system of emails and Wilbur eating meals alone.

“Yea yea, it’s going!” He yelled through the metal door.

“Better be.” The blazeling snapped before making a non quiet track back to his quarters.

“Stupid blazeling.” Wilbur grumbled as he sorted through vials and picked up new needles and measured out the substances. “We are going to start with the anesthetic then move onto the poison.” He softly addressed Tommy.

Wilbur swiftly disinfected Tommy’s shoulder and gave the needle. He then gave the second needle. Immediately Tommy slumped over. Wilbur swiftly took off Tommy’s restraints and moved him on to the patient bed in the back corner of the room. After the transfer was done he clipped the body restraints around Tommy and waited for the alert signaling landing.

After about five minutes the light next to the door turned blue. He moved over to his seat and clipped on the safety belts. The light turned green and the ship shook momentarily before a thud could be felt. Quickly as Wilbur could, he emptied the needles into the waste bin and waited for his soon-to-be-ex-boss to arrive.

Dream stepped through the door and glanced around the room before heading to Wilbur for his report.

“Report.” The dreamon commanded.

“The subject's body would have gone through a painfully slow death and have multiple organ failures if I did not intervene. The chemical mixes used created a conflict in the patient’s body which resulted in the patient falling into exhaustion as they recovered.” He responded in a monotone tone. Dream looked over Tommy. He flinched back in disgust as Tommy grunted in his sleep.

“Is that all?” The dreamon questioned.

“No.” Wilbur swallowed down his panic, “This is the last testing I will be doing with this crew.” The dreamon scoffed.

“I am assuming you’re getting off at this planet?” Dream spit. Wilbur knew he absolutely hated when people left his crew as he saw it as a direct violation of his loyalty.

“Yes.” The phantom stated, keeping his even tone apparent. With that Dream stormed out cursing in Siestian. Somewhere in the mess of words he told Wilbur to get his things.

Without hesitation he grabbed his bag from his quarters, which was held in a small room that branches off the lab. He half sprinted down the short hallway and straight to the bed Tommy was on. He swiftly unrestrained the human and sat him up. He slipped on boots and gloves then tied a cloak around the kid. He pulled the hood up and carried him off of the closest exit. There were faint yells from Dream down the hallway and reassurances from the only two beings that put up with him. And with that Wilbur was off to find the only craft he had ever called home. The SBI ship.

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Chapter 2- End

Words~ 1774

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End Notes: ‘‘twas to lazy to reread... sorry for minor mistakes. Also suggestions are always appreciated!! Please reblog...

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Chapter 3:

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Wilbur:

#my writing #my fanfic tag #wilbur soot #sapnap #dream mcyt #tommy mcyt #dream smp fanfiction #space au

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amberlynnmurdock · 3 years

Text

Library Series (Pt. 15)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Chapter Summary: Thanksgiving is next week.

AO3 Link

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey all! I am still working on this story no matter how long it takes me and no matter who sticks til the end. To those of you who have just discovered it or those who are still reading, thank you so much. This chapter sets up the next one and it’s super fluffy. I hope you all have been doing well, staying safe and healthy during this crazy time we live in. In the meantime, enjoy some Matt Murdock college fluff. And message me if you have... anything to say! About your life, Marvel, anything. I’d love to catch up again. OKAY ENJOY <3

Wet fog. It sticks to the dorm window. Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s barely seven in the evening. You wipe the window with the sleeve of your pajama shirt to see outside.

There’s not much going on. It’s a week before Thanksgiving, and everyone on campus was just finishing up exams. Many have already went home for the holiday. Marci left two days ago with Foggy. Which left your dorm room all to yourself, and… Matthew.

Ever since that night outside the cafe, he’s been spending time with you a lot, which you had no problem with. You’d finish your late class on Thursday and see him waiting for you patiently at the end of the hall, cane in hand, leaning against the cement wall. The two of you had lunch together every Tuesday because that’s the only time the two of you don’t have a class at noon. You walk him home, and you text him when you get back to your dorm.

Right now, he’s here again. There’s a record spinning at a low volume, and you’ve lost track of what it was you and Matt were listening to. You laid down after dinner and got sleepy, and let Matt take over flipping the discs, raiding your collection. You knew he couldn’t see what he was picking, but he always managed to play some of your favorites.

You slump down from your dorm bed and join him on the fuzzy carpet, leaning against the side of your bed. Your arm brushes his and you feel the urge to bring him into an embrace. But you don’t.

It dawned on you that tomorrow, you’d be leaving for Thanksgiving break yourself. You were excited: you hadn’t seen your family in weeks and the cafeteria food was starting to get old. A home-cooked meal was exactly what you needed. But at the same time, you felt like you were going to be missing something, and it was painfully obvious what it was. In fact, the reason why is sitting next to you right now, behind red tint glasses and an aloof grin on his face.

“I love this song,” Matt smiles as he stretches his arms. It’s a song by Big Star. You don’t reply. You smile instead.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks you after a short period of silence. You forget he can’t see your smile sometimes. A guilty feeling wells in your chest.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Matt finds your hand and holds it.

“Yeah, I am,” you say uneasily. “Are you going home for Thanksgiving? I forgot to ask.”

Matt replies after a moment, “No. I’m not.”

You quirk an eyebrow. You realize you never asked Matt about his…family. You know his father passed away, and he’s never mentioned his mother. You didn’t feel like now was the right time. You decide to play the fool.

“Do you usually go anywhere?” You ask him carefully.

“I usually go with Foggy every year, but this time he is at Marci’s. It’s okay, though,” Matt gives a small smile, “I told him it was okay after he denied to a hundred times.”

You sort of felt silly in that moment. Why didn’t you bother to ask Matt if he’d like to join your family on Thanksgiving? You honestly assumed he had somewhere to go–but now you think you know why it was never brought up. Matt probably didn’t want you to feel bad. You notice he has a tendency to do that–hide how he really feels.

“Well, you are welcome to come to my Thanksgiving. If you want!” You nervously add the last part in. You suddenly felt embarrassed. Were you moving too fast? Were things getting serious? Were you okay with that? More importantly, was he okay with that?

“Uhm, yeah,” Matt answers you sheepishly. For some reason, the nerves make him let go of your hand. It’s not that he doesn’t want to go, he’s dying to have a little getaway with you, and get to know you even more. Matt is just… really happy you asked.

"I leave tomorrow, and it’s last minute, but I’d really love for you to be there with me. You’ll get to meet my family, if that’s not scary,” you ramble on. The rush inside you can’t be stopped: the thought of having Matt all to yourself for a few days sounded magical. “And my family isn’t big, if big families intimidate you. It’s just my folks and I.”

“Big families?” Matt laughs, “I’ve been to Foggy’s for the holidays for a while now, and I’m still sure there’s a distant cousin I haven’t met before. I think I’m ready with just having to introduce myself only twice now.”

“Okay!” You turn to face him, this time taking his hand back in yours. “I’ll text my Mom now to let her know we’ll need another plate at the table. You can stay in our guest room. Or mine, and I’ll take the guest room. Whichever you’re most comfortable with.”

Matt could hear the excitement in your voice. “We can figure that out later,” he says. “We can share, you know,” Matt reminds you in a low whisper.

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks. You let out a soft laugh and gently push him in a joking way, “no way am I getting in bed with you, Mr. Murdock. I am too much of a blanket hog. You’ll be cold the entire weekend.”

Matt lets out a laugh. He pulls you in close and kisses your ear.

“We’ll see about that.”

The shivers his kiss sent down your spine are hard to hide. You don’t care. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder.

Matt quietly says your name.

Tilting your head to look up at him, and you reply, “yes?”

His auburn hair that usually falls perfectly in place now fell so it was covering half his face. You reach up to move it aside but his fingers latch to your wrist and slowly bring your hand back down to his lap.

Matt doesn’t have to see you to know you’re confused by his movements. That’s all he can really do, to show his feelings to you. He can’t possibly find the right words to describe how much he likes you–words fail him in that sense. He has so much to say to you, there’s so much that he feels. All he can do is hold your hand tighter and kiss your forehead.

“I like this a lot,” is all he can say. Foolish, he feels. The most beautiful girl you’ve ever talked to, the most sincere heart you’ve ever known is sitting right next to you, and that’s all you have to say?

You let out a soft laugh, “I’m glad, Matt. I was hoping you’d be staying a while.”

He knows what you mean by that. Not just staying a while in this dorm with you but staying a while in your life. Matt smiles.

“How are your classes, by the way? Are you feeling as overwhelmed with work as I?” He asks.

You shift, lifting your head from his shoulder.

“Yeah, a little,” you trail off, “I kind of jump at the work when it’s presented to me so I don’t get overwhelmed. And the faster I finish the bullshit busy work, the faster I can continue my investigating on that robbery.”

That robbery. The word takes him out of reality for a moment. Matt hasn’t roamed the streets since you both made up. He made a promise to himself to not let himself get distracted so he can put more time and energy into you, and he has. But hearing you bring up the robbery again stirs something inside of him: anxiety.

“Oh, really?” Matt asks, covering the worry in his tone. “Are there any…updates on that?”

“Any leads you mean?” You correct in jest. “Well, after break I’m going to the woman’s house for an interview. Her name is Camila Fredrick. I’ve already set up dates and everything. She’s more comfortable meeting after the holiday, which I totally understand. I’m just happy she agreed to speak with me. ‘You must be more pleasant than the real media’ she said in the email back,” you laugh, “I guess the title Undergrad comes off nicer.”

Matt forces himself to laugh at your jokes. He can’t stop his heart from beating so fast. Sure, you’d be meeting with the woman, Camila, in her own home, but how do you know you’d be safe from someone who could potentially be stalking her?

“Well, that’s lucky, I guess,” Matt replies.

“Yeah. She’s lucky for surviving, too. And I think she’s safe from the shooter… he’s in jail. His bail is like, almost $10,000, so I don’t think he’ll be getting out anytime soon.”

The last few words made Matt calm down just a little more. Still, what you didn’t know (that Matt does know) is that Neil isn’t the only player in this game.

“Whatever you do, wherever you go, ___, just be careful,” Matt tells you in a hushed voice. “This city is great, but it’s ugly.”

“I know, Matty,” the nickname slipped from your lips. Matt doesn’t seem to mind it. “I’m a tough girl, ya know?”

He smiles, “you are.”

For a moment, a fleeting moment, his mind plays an awful, cruel, trick on him and replaces Camila with you. The amount of rage that fills his blood, God forbid you were ever put in such danger… he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He wouldn’t wait for the law to bring justice. He’d serve it for you, even if that meant getting his hands bloody and bruised again.

The record has stopped playing. You glance at the clock. It’s not late yet, but you do feel sleepy. You sigh and stretch. If you and Matt were going to be going to your home in New Jersey, you’d better get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow is a day of packing, and then leaving the next day.

Matt says he’ll meet you in the morning for coffee and then he joked that you may need to help him pack his suitcase tomorrow. Joke or not, you’d be there in a heartbeat. You looked forward to spending the next few days with Matt.

He kisses you goodnight. The sound of his cane echoing down the hall almost puts you to sleep.

#matt murdock #daredevil #college matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #marvel fanfic #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock fanfic #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #the defenders #foggy nelson #marci stahl #library series

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