Maggie or Skinner has DEFINITELY caught msr fooling around/making out on more than one occasion.
Yup. Maggie’s learned to knock before she lets herself into Scully’s apartment. Poor Skinner, on the other hand, can’t avoid it - he’s definitely run into them in the stairwell of the Hoover building parking garage, in the basement office, in the fourth floor men’s bathroom…
Warnings: SEX BABYYYYYYYYYYYY, aKA SMUT SO IF U HAVE A PROBLEM DNT READ
Word Count: 3,500
A/N: BROUGHT TO YOU BY RUM AND MANGO JUICE
Request from @thomas-stanleyholland : Tom and the Reader are Best friends. They have a sleepover and have an intense makeup session in his bed, maybe some smut and fluff?
HECK YES TO SMUT AND FLUFF :,)
I’ll revise for any mistakes in the morning, I’m exhausted xx
Your flight just landed at the London City Airport. The captain explaining that we’re pulling up to the gate. People around you were getting restless to get off. You of course were still waking up from the nap you took.
Pulling out your phone you open the camera. Flipping the screen you see your reflection. Sighing in relief that nothing was out of place. Turning your head to the side you check you winged eyeliner. Thanking the makeup gods the liner or your fake lashes you have on didn’t get fucked up.
Feeling your phone vibrate you exit the camera app. A message from your best friend pops up. A smile on your face when you read it. Standing up once you see people emptying the seats in front of you. Reaching above you grab your suitcase with your backpack slung over your shoulder. Carrying the suitcase you lift it sideways to head down the narrow aisle.
Someone pushes past you making you stumble a bit. You huff out in frustration glaring at the back of the person. Readjusting your purse you make your way down the hall of the gate. Your suitcase making sounds as it rolled and bumped over the bumps in the gate flooring.
Walking over towards the bathroom you walk in and head towards a bigger mirror. Fixing your beanie that was on your head. It was your best friend’s beanie he gave you before he had to fly to the states for work. Reapplying a coat of maroon lipstick to your faded lips you leave feeling a little better.
Looking at the signs you see which way to turn for the baggage claim. The escalator taking you down to the lower level. Stepping forward when you reach the end, you head towards a hooded figure. The sign said your name and beside the figure was your bag. He looks up from his phone, glasses shielding his eyes. A smile giving him way completely.
2, yakov driving victor to the airport. he looks happy. he looks like the first time yakov drove him home from the airport, after the summer he spent at yakov’s summer camp fourteen years ago and yakov couldn’t send him away for good, couldn’t let him live in the dormitories or half way across the country, because yakov could see in his rawest, most earnest movements that he was the future of something. victor has to have the chair all the way back, and he has his dog drooling over his shoulder from the back seat now. when victor was thirteen, he was young with shoulder-length hair and beat-up sneakers on yakov’s dashboard, a late tooth punched out in his smile and sunken, feminine shoulders. he’s gone from that to a monster to something undefinable, something uncontrollable and sad and hungry in the way that someone might describe the deepest parts of the ocean or a black hole.
tonight, with a one way ticket to japan on his phone, he looks like he did fourteen years ago.
5. victor wants to kiss him so, so, so bad. yuuri lets him touch him now. yuuri lets victor lean on him and wrap his arms around him and lets victor sink his hands into the back pockets of his jeans when they’re walking together down the street like it’s nothing. there are so many moments when yuuri looks at him and he wonders now? is this right? do we? can i?
6. it isn’t a matter of can we, but a matter of when we, victor decides, saturated up to his eyeballs with whiskey sours. i’m gonna kiss you, and when i do i’m not going to stop, i’m going to kiss you for a million years.
7. “you,” yuuri says. they’re standing in the elevator, free from the press and the fans and their fellow skaters and sponsors and the world. it’s the first time since they were in a parking garage where everything above them echoed too loud that they’ve found themselves alone.
“what about me?” victor asks, humor lifting his voice. they’re leaning against opposite walls. the walls are mirrored and yuuri looks at him from an angle, his face reflecting on either side of them on and on forever. victor could chase his silhouette until he went blind.
yuuri curls in on himself, shy, like an anemone.
(victor has always liked the sea. victor loves anemones. he is always gentle when he watches them, catches his fingers on their tendrils as they tuck themselves away.)
they reach their floor. something lingers between them heavy and unspoken and exciting that victor hasn’t felt in years, hasn’t felt in a decade or more. yuuri moves to walk past him and out, but stops instead, foot on the metallic threshold and he presses victor into the rows of buttons for a kiss.
“i can’t believe you,” he says. he sounds in awe. “i’ve been waiting for this for years.”
what i think a lot of people who have never experienced trauma don’t understand is that, yes, *anything* can be a trigger. certain types of food can be a trigger. songs can be a trigger. a picture of a cartoon character facing a certain angle can be a trigger. parking garages can be triggers. just because people have “weird” or “abnormal” triggers doesn’t mean they deserve to be thrown under the bus by people trying to adhere to neurotypical respectability politics.
Summary: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring.
Pairing: Jimin x Reader
Warnings/tags: Past abuse, Blood, Mafia!reader, Mafia!Namjoon, Older brother!Namjoon, DogHybrid!Jimin, fighting, slow burn, general angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut.
A/N: I probably could have split this into two parts but I didn’t want to leave you hanging after the Jimin/Jungkook fight scene. This part was particularly hard to write because I knew where I wanted to be by part 3 but not how to get there. I know it’s not as good as part one but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Song to play during this chapter: House of cards~
Jimin and his new master arrive at the compound inside of the hour. On the front gate (guarded by 3 guards- probably armed) hung a golden sign; Serendipity Gardens. Jimin felt his eyes widen as they pulled through the gate and into a wide circle, a fountain spitting water in the center.
The place was emptier than a graveyard. There where no children playing in the park. Not a person was walking in the gardens and not a soul on any of the balconies of the two upscale apartment complexes or the smaller but no less grand private residences.
The car pulled left and into an underground parking garage. Other sleek cars were parked here. Namjoon didn’t wait for the driver to open his door when they stopped, and Jimin scuttled after him careful not to fall behind.
In the space that should have been parking, rooms had been erected- some with clear dividers and others out of plain brick. A safe was tucked into the wall as people walked this way and that; some carting crates off to storerooms.
Everywhere there were cameras. Every door had a key card and every person was armed in some way. Revolvers where Tucked into waistbands, or in holsters on their sides, and machine guns where slung casually over shoulders as a man cleaned dirt out from under his fingernails with a switchblade.
People nodded or cast his master greetings some even bowing. Jimin cast his gaze to his master scanning him for any budges- it didn’t look like he was armed- but Jimin was beginning to think that his new master wasn’t the kind of man who ever gave secrets away for free.
He stopped for no one- even as they made their way down a set of stairs almost running into a group of people who were attempting to carry a large box up the flight of stares.
“Take the fucking ramp it will be easier you idiots.” Monster growled. The youths almost dropped the box. Yes, boss, they muttered shaking in their boots. they all Scattered the second they both had passed.
The training room on the third floor stank with the smell of sweat and blood just like his old one, Jimin’s sensitive nose stung. Blue mats where tossed on the floor while a makeshift platform with a circle made a ring in the center, while exercise equipment was pushed against a wall.
Around 20 people were clustered around the ring- watching a fight that Jimin could tell would be over in seconds. Most of them turned to bow to his master. Some of their eyes landed on Jimin- and flashed up quickly to his ears, which twitched anxiously whenever he caught someone staring. Hybrids where a common thing- most people had either met one or seen one, but most people had never seen a hybrid that looked like Jimin. Eventually, their gazes returned to the fighting ring and the two battling it out in the center.
The mint haired man hit the floor with a final thud and did not get up. he groaned “Kook it’s a fucking Sunday- can’t you just go easy on me one time.“
His opponent, Kook; a boy that was both buffer and younger than Jimin smirked. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked Yoongi.” Jimin watched curiously as Kook held out a hand to Yoongi- why would he help his opponent up- it was something Jimin had never seen done.
Yoongi snorted, “Whoever said that obviously hadn’t met me Jungkook.” Yoongi slapped his offered hand away.
“I’m just going to sleep here- wake me up if the boss shows up.” his master cleared his throat. Jimin had never seen someone get up fast as Yoongi; who snapped to attention. Namjoon merely leveled him with a slight smirk. “You know the rules Yoongi- everyone trains.”
“You know I’m more deadly at long distances boss.” Namjoon jumped onto the platform, and Jimin followed carefully, he felt the eyes of the assembled gangsters slowly shifting to him- the newcomer, their master’s shadow. Jimin’s black ears twitched, and his tail swished back and forth. he could sense eyes on them- and on the blood that still stained his knuckles. But no one asked his master who he was.
Namjoon jerked his head, and Yoongi made to get off the platform, Jungkook, however, stayed put. Namjoon’s eyes flicker to Jimin and before he could ask- Jimin entered the ring with a sick feeling curling in his stomach.
“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicker to Jimin’s tail and ears.
“Y/n’s new guard dog- but I want to see if he’s a good fit before I give her too him.” Jimin bristled. Was the fight from last night not enough to convince him that he could fight? He was good- and though he could tell by the way Jungkook moved that he knew how to handle himself, Jimin was better. He could tell by just looking at the way he placed his feet. His master’s eyes flickered to Jimin.
“You know what to do.” He said, and Jimin turned.
Jimin had Jungkook pinned in under a minute- though the young man was obviously skilled- he had never gone up against a hybrid before. People usually underestimated his strength, but his speed was Jungkook’s downfall. Jimin could smell Jungkook’s fury underneath his fingers. Jimin raised a fist- intent on knocking him out and ending the fight.
“Stop,” Namjoon commanded, every inch of Jimin’s body froze, and surprisingly Jungkook stopped too. “Stand and face me.” He commanded Jimin did as he asked.
Shock colored every face around the ring as Jimin turned to face his new master, dread filling up his stomach. His master appraised him with a new eye, slightly amused- but mostly pleased. “Do you know why I just had you do that?” Namjoon asks Jimin.
Jimin could feel every pair of eyes on him and while he’d never been uncomfortable with someone’s eyes on him before- this somehow felt more intimate.
“Because you needed to know if I would hurt a human.” As a hybrid- Jimin’s DNA was programmed to be obedient- to be pliant and not harm his human master- or any human master. The instinctual aversion was something that had been trained out of him by his previous masters again and again until it didn’t matter what species his opponent was.
“Smart and strong- what other surprises do you have?” Namjoon says, not looking for an answer. His master turned and left the ring. Jimin scrambled to follow. Behind him, he heard the others rumble- the quiet hum of conversation. “Who’s that?” Yoongi asked Jungkook. Jimin could feel the man’s eyes on him as he trailed away. “Trouble, I think.”
“Ed Sheeran!” I stand up along with the rest of the people in the crowded facility. Clapping my hands slowly, I rest my gaze on my boyfriend sitting next to me. He looks disappointed and I can’t help but feel bad for him knowing how much he wanted the award. Shawn loved Ed - yes - but he had put countless hours into the album in the hopes of living up to a moment that would no longer exist.
“Hey” I place my hand on his shoulder while he stares at his shoes outstretched in front of him, “I’m proud of you” I tell him as he brushes my hand off and proceeds to walk towards the restroom.
Shawn continued to ignore me for the majority of the night. And although I understood that he was disappointed, I didn’t have anything to do with the results of the award and could not understand why he was ignoring the person who had supported him the most. I would occasionally sneak glances in his direction, my eyes following his movements carefully throughout the room. I would catch him talking to some music representatives with a smile plastered across his face, and it would soon turn to a frown once he made eye contact with me.
I was getting fed up with his actions and made the bold decision to approach him myself. Shawn was standing in front of an older man and a girl who looked much younger than him while speaking and gesturing with his hands. I snuck up behind him and rested a hand on his upper back.
He quickly looked in my direction, his smile quickly fading.
“Who is this beautiful young lady, Shawn?” the older man asks me with a grin on his face. I take a step forward and shake his hand.
“This is y/n. She’s a friend.” he simply states with a monotonous voice while leaning down to my height to quickly whisper in my ear.
“Don’t mess this up for me too” He bitterly says, backing away and pushing my hip gently while motioning me to leave.
Eventually it came time to leave the awards show and I greeted some of my friends, thanking them for accompanying me while saying goodbyes to them. I had agreed to meet Shawn at his car so he could drive us home earlier that night and I quickly grabbed my coat to layer on top of my dress that only reached mid-thigh. The air had been growing cold recently and I wasn’t taking any chances when it came to being cold.
I quickly walked out of the enormous building and walked to the parking garage, my heels rubbing against my blisters and my arms crossing over my chest in an attempt to keep some of the heat in my body. The parking garage is only half full, taking into account that most of the guests had come with drivers rather than driving themselves. I walk through the garage and make a mental note of the sections before I spot him.
Shawn is standing, scrolling through his phone in one hand and leaning against the driver’s door of the car. I can tell that he’s tired and annoyed just be the way that he stands and also by the way he tiredly rubs his face and sighs occasionally.
“Hey, I was looking for you” I quietly say, but I know he hears me. I decide not to create conflict by mentioning the introduction as a “friend” earlier in the night and the complete negligence on his part throughout the night.
“Get in” He bluntly states as he gets in the car and quickly turns it on. I hop in the passenger’s seat and take off my coat, throwing it into the back seat of the large jeep.
He pulls out of the garage and pays for the parking. There’s quite a bit of traffic before we can make it on the highway and the tension in the car lingers through the air.
“It was a good show” I tell Shawn, who sits in his driver’s seat unphased while his head is propped up against his elbow. The car rarely scoots forward due to the cramped cars at this time of night.
“Yeah.” He simply states as he keeps looking forward.
“Justine was there” I tell him and this time he doesn’t even bother to reply.
“I spent the most of my night with her. You know, since you barely acknowledged me” My words finally seem to catch his attention as his turns his head to look at me.
“Is there a problem here?” Shawn asks as he rubs at his eyes.
“No, not really. My boyfriend just brought me to an event that I didn’t even want to go to and told me to fuck off the entire time we were there. Not a big deal.” I tell him with an annoyed glare.
“Not everything is about you, y/n. Calm down.” He clutches the wheel harder and I can see the veins that outline his forearms.
“I know that. But when you basically force me to go to an event and then refuse to say more than 3 words to me the entire night, I think I have the right to complain.” I point out. “And you blamed me for not winning the album award. What’s up with that?” I ask him.
“That album wasn’t as good as it should’ve been. I knew it, Andrew knew it, and the whole team knows it. I was distracted, and since it’s really the only album i’ve written since I met you…”
He trails off. I can’t tell whether he regrets it or not considering he isn’t apologizing yet.
My voice cracks slightly as I try to process what he’s implying.
“Are you - are you implying that i’m the reason why your album didn’t win the award?” I ask him and he stays silent. I sit in outrage due to the ridiculousness of the statement he’s just thrown at me.
“That has got to be the most ridiculous bullshit i’ve ever heard in my entire life” I say, startling him.
“Excuse me?” He looks taken aback.
He turns the car out of the traffic mess and we’re finally on a more empty highway with a smaller number of cars. He occasionally looks over at me, opening his mouth as if he’s about to say something before quickly closing it.
“I have absolutely nothing to do with you not winning that award! Shawn, I have stuck by you through every step of your career. When you couldn’t think of song lyrics, I was the one sitting there and talking to you until you finally figured them out. I attend every concert I possibly can and give you as much support as I possibly can. This album went platinum, for god sakes!”
I throw my hands up in an angry fit and his pale complexion develops a red shade.
“Are you kidding me? You’re a distraction! You’re always bothering me when i’m writing songs, giving shitty input I didn’t ask for” I feel a flash of hurt hit my chest but I assure myself that he’s just mad and we’re caught up in a moment.
“You bring me useless things to the studio as an excuse to be with me more. Newsflash y/n, if I need food while i’m writing, I can just walk to the Panera next door! You always find excuses to be around me and it’s affecting my music. Maybe you should just stop being so fucking clingy!” His voice booms in the car and there’s a sudden pause and a moment of quiet.
The car is going at a fast pace given that there are almost no other cars on the highway and I now notice that small flakes of ice are falling from the dark sky. It’s snowing, something I would’ve thought of as beautiful in any other situation, but the intensity of the argument seems to distract from the beautiful snow.
“Maybe your album just wasn’t all that great” I coldly reply. I know it’ll hurt him, but he hurt me first. And while I could choose to be the bigger person, in this situation, I choose to fire back instead.
I’m taken aback slightly when the car comes to a slow halt. I freeze, panic rushing through me at the possibility of the car malfunctioning but it is then I realize that Shawn has pulled over to the side of the road.
“What are yo-”
“Get out” He quietly replies, not an ounce of emotion laced in his voice.
“Get out, y/n. I don’t want to talk to you right now” He says, louder this time.
“Shawn, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” I desperately call out. I hear the drivers door open and I realize he’s stepping out. For a split second, I think he is walking away from the car and leaving me. But just as I’m about to open my door and run after him, I realize that he is walking to my side of the car.
He opens the door to the passenger’s seat of the car and I immediately feel the cold wind on my forearms. I’m wearing a spaghetti strap dress than only reaches - at lowest - to my mid-thigh. It barely covers my body and without my coat I feel like i’m freezing.
Shawn repeats himself another time, “get out of my car”.
“Shawn, please” I shake my head and warm tears are quickly filling my eyes.
“It’s so cold out there and it’s so late. Shawn, I don’t know where we are, please.” I plead. For a split second I think I see a hint of remorse in his eyes but he proves me wrong as he harshly grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the car. I fall onto the frozen pavement, my heels falling off of my feet with my tears spilling out of my eyes. He stares at me one last time before angrily getting back into his jeep and storming off.
And while I sit barefoot on the freezing pavement, staring as his car becomes nothing more than a silhouette in the distance, all I seem to do is beg him for mercy.
Warnings: Swearing cause I swear a lot, you should know this by know haha
A/N: I’m starting this series earlier than I thought cause I couldn’t wait honestly lmao
The sound of the alarm stung your ears as it woke you up from your slumber. Your eyes struggling to open as you slammed your hand down on the alarm clock. A few seconds go by and your phone starts buzzing and ringing loudly. Frustratedly you slap stretch to grab your phone.
Unluckily your body falls off the bed slamming onto the floor. Letting out a defeated sigh you wobble back up grabbing onto your bed for support. You saw your reflection in your closet mirror doors. Hair sticking up like Anna from Frozen. Cringing at the sight you head towards the bathroom.
Flicking the light on your own reflection scares the fuck out of you. Turning the knob water starts to pour out. Cupping your hands and letting the water gather it you splash it in your face. You sure as hell don’t look like those fake commercials. Water got on the counter and you somewhat look like a wet dog now.