#all wheels and eyes and fire. incredible
Text
Maknae Royale
Male Reader x Jang Wonyoung, Wang Yiren, Lee Gahyeon, Park Sujin (Swan), Jeon Somi, Shin Yuna, Kim Yerim (Yeri), Im Yeojin (9some)
Length: 10.000 words
Tags: live action porn, porn game, fucking for points, Team Battle Royale, squirting kink, edging kink, bimbofication, brat taming, doggy, fingering, face riding, blue balling, jerking you off, titfuck, standing sex, step-bro I'm stuck, anal, creampie, anal creampie, eating out, blowjob, face fucking, deep throat, rough sex, missionary, full nelson, against the wall, piledriver, mating press, overstimulation, porn_star!you / porn_rookies!idols
TW: even after editing, this is messy and chaotic and pure sex lol
Inspiration: the idea of a Maknae focused fic is not new, but I just went all in. This is also based on this vote I send out a while ago lol. I think I can name drop @writerpeach cuz I remember him saying sth like that.
Credit: @erospandemos for the cover art! Thabk you very much!
(A/N: One year after C.Ollection, I'm trying my best to celebrate and repeat that craziness, have fun! The beginning is a reference to Labyrinth of the Six. This is the same universe but not a sequel!)
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"I was looking for copper and I found gold!"
You turn off the purring engine of your car. It is clearly not as nice as the purring of the girl you were in balls deep mere minutes ago, but let's be honest, those purrs should not be compared; one is mechanical, the other borderline maniacal. You let out a sigh as you kill the annoying lights in your car to focus on the call you just accepted.
"Hi, is this really how you're greeting me?" you respond, letting your fingers glide over the steering wheel as you watch a single car pass by in the middle of this warm, humid night.
"Oh, man, stop complaining!" the director says and laughs. You can hear him type something on an old keyboard, each tap of his fingers obnoxiously loud. "I'm going to give you the opportunity of a lifetime—something this great, it needs no greeting."
You rub your nose, then the inside of your eyes filled with tiredness and exhaustion. She was needy tonight, you gave her two rounds, 140 minutes of a hard pounding until the clock struck a merciless 3am. Yes, you were counting the minutes, it was necessary. Otherwise Jiwon’s cunt would have drained you early, which is unbecoming of a porn actor of your caliber.
"Look," you halt the director's enthusiasm with a groan. "I'm doing good right now. Money—I got enough; my love-life is good too. Maybe I'll take a break for a couple of months until my next—"
"No, listen!" he shouts in absolute excitement, like he has been enlightened by the truth. "This script, it's so fucking good! It lit a fire in me, I can already see the setting, the actresses, you—it's perfect. This can even top your Labyrinth performance—you remember, the six hotties—"
"Of course I do!" There you go. Your heart beat is picking up in tempo. How could you forget the pleasure, the absolute thrill of having sex with six gorgeous women at the same time? Don’t kid yourself, this already felt like one in a million—to flat out reject another offer that could be of this magnitude would be absolutely foolish. “Fuck it. Send me the script, I’ll get back to you.”
“Oh, you will,” the director says, absolutely certain that you will accept in a heartbeat after reading this ominous script. “I’ll start looking for actresses.”
#
The script is complex, wild, otherworldly—implementing it took weeks of preparation. Luckily, your part in this clusterfuck is rather simple: be hard, go hard and stay hard. The first two are deeply rooted within you. Seeing the girls’ incredible faces and even greater bodies has you ready to get a raging erection at any time, while some of their slutty mannerisms and lewd words dripping from their tongues like venomous drool urge you to go as hard and rough as you can. Hell, they’ll basically beg for you—why would you hold back?
The only issue is that there are too many of them. No matter how hot they are or how horny you are, at some point there is nothing left. You will be drained and there is no shame in admitting defeat to them. So once again, you’ll have to resort to some performance enhancers to stay hard like a diamond while drilling into cave after cave. It’s a pink pill this time, tiny, you barely notice it, both in the palm of your hand and in your throat. Take a deep breath and feel it surely doing its job already.
You open your eyes in the midst of a studio room that looks like a submarine. Dim light, large, black holes around you, each with a large porthole-like door in the middle; it feels gloomy, mysterious, unsettling. A single camera is pointed at you, live streaming each droplet of sweat running down your face. Feel the artificial warmth of a nearby heater creep up your thin clothes, giving you chills. It cannot match the heat within you.
The red light atop the camera turns off. Sixty seconds from now, one of the portholes will open. The glass in them is blurry, obscuring any view of the chaos happening behind them. You of course know the script inside out, but the girls’ are still somewhat unknown. You’ve never seen them face to face, only in zoom calls, their bodies looked fantastic and because they are rookies, they should also be tight, but you don’t know how they will handle the pressure, all the eyes on them, the revealing outfits, the unbridled sex—
Around thirty seconds now. You grab your trousers and feel blood rushing out of your legs. Feet tingle, the tips of your fingers as well. This pill, it has your heart racing somewhere, racing from something, to anything. Eyes tremble, vision blurrier than the glass before you, behind you, around you.
You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time.
With a loud hiss, the porthole to your left swings open, wide open, flooding your entirely empty room with copious amounts of fog and the smell of fresh fruits. The vibrant color scheme of pastel pink, magenta, light purple and white fills your view as you step into what looks like Princess Peach’s private castle, its kitchen, living room and bedroom. It’s like one explosion of cuteness and innocence, quite charming, very fake.
“Oh, he’s already here. Look, Barbie!”
“That’s not my name, Yiren. Hello, handsome stranger!”
The two girls fit the concept of the room perfectly. Such bright smiles, happiness pouring from their cute little faces; you knew they would nail this performance the moment you saw their pictures and heard their voices. Wonyoung, the tall girl with her incredibly long legs truly looks like a Barbie doll: tiny ribbons adorn her endless chocolate hair while the pink crop top and straight denim skirt make you want to play with her all night, undress her everywhere.
Yiren on the other hand blends in with the room to such a degree, you’d assume they cannot be sold separately. The chinese girl boasts hair the color of peaches, her tight white dress sparkles because of small, silver details spread across it, while her face leaves no doubt that she is, in fact, a princess.
The two get closer to you, before Wonyoung starts to speak up again, her voice in a sassy, yet genuinely adorable pitch.
“Aw, are you shy? No need to be, we’re all here to have fun. Isn’t that right, Yiren?”
“You’re right, Barbie. Let’s play some games and make it a night we won’t forget,” Yiren adds, quieter and calmer than Wonyoung, with a smile that warms the heart.
“S-sure,” you respond to the two girls bouncing up and down in front of you like hyped up kangaroos. “B-but what are we going to play?”
“You see,” Wonyoung starts. “Yiren and I are a team and we have a mission to fulfill. Can you help us?”
“I’d love to, but what is the mission?”
Yiren turns towards Wonyoung, who’s already grinning at her. They share a nod and Yiren suddenly wraps herself around one of your arms, while Wonyoung occupies the other. Feel their slender bodies rub on your limbs, their natural heat and rapid heartbeats working towards your own, increasing it with every step they guide you towards a bed in the corner of the room. It’s at least double queensized, filled with pillows, blankets and stuffed animals.
“Let me explain it to you,” Wonyoung says and climbs atop the purple sheets. “Our mission is to make this bed as wet as possible.”
“Well that sounds easy,” you respond. “Just get some tap water and dump it on here.”
“That’s what I thought too,” Yiren whispers in your ear and suddenly places her hands all over your back and chest.
“No tap water, only natural juices are allowed,” Wonyoung hums and her hands casually open her skirt. It falls on the bed and she is quick to kick it away. She looks even more tempting and ruinable in her tiny tight panties with a wet teddy bear on the front. “We need your help to get these juices out of us, pretty please?”
“Yes, pretty please?” Yiren adds and cups the bulge in your pants. “It will be so much fun, I promise. Doesn’t Barbie look tight? Don’t you want to fuck her until she bursts?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“Splendid,” Wonyoung laughs and throws away her crop top as well. Meanwhile Yiren finds the hem of your pants and tugs them down oh-so easily, the only resistance is your hard member, which Yiren promptly points at her team partner who has her legs spread invitingly.
She’s so hot.
As if she read your mind, Yiren tempts you into finally going hard:
“She looks so hot. Go fuck her.”
Like a tiger desperate for food, you crawl onto the bed and tackle your prey into a mountain of teddy bears. Your fingers find the very specific teddy bear on Wonyoung’s panties, you push it to the side to find a pink slit. A final look at her glistening eyes before you press your cock onto her equally glistening slit and after some adjustments, you enter her.
Wonyoung shrieks cutely, her thin fingers wrap around your biceps’ and she holds onto them as you start to slowly pump into her. The two of you need time to realize where you are, what you’re doing, how you’re doing it. All acting for the camera is gone in this bliss, at least for a couple of seconds. Then it all comes back with Yiren, eagerly who jumps on the bed as well.
“You need to hurry up, we don’t have forever.”
You slip a hand under Yiren’s dress to quickly shut her up. No panties.
“How about you start helping, princess,” you fight back. “Go rub Wonyoung’s clit while you ride my fingers. Oh, and Wonyoung.”
“Ye-yes?” the young girl moans.
“Open your mouth wide. I need you to drool on these.”
Both Yiren’s pussy lips and Wonyoung’s normal lips—though their lusciousness and thickness is far from mere ‘normal’—part as soon as your fingers graze them. The latter is quick to slobber all over them while you recklessly pump them into her; Yiren still has reservations and instead opts to look at you with adorable glassy eyes.
“I-I feel so full,” she moans, shivers throughout her entire body. You softly smile at her and start to curl your fingers, purposefully dragging them alongside her walls while your palm reaches her clit. “Ah, i-it feels—”
Holy shit. Whatever chemical they put into this pill, it has a tendency to just kill your patience. In what can only be described as a loss of all control, your body only moves towards fulfilling the mission. Your fingers start to violently pump into Yiren’s pussy and Wonyoung’s mouth, both quickly spilling liquids out of them. Especially Wonyoung, the Barbie girl below you, becomes a dispenser of juices when you violently fuck into her tight pussy.
“Too fast, ah!” Yiren screams, her hands wrapped around your wrist, unable to prevent the surge of lust in your body.
“Fuck, sorry. I can’t stop me.” You groan, not really sorry about the stuff happening to you, to them and—oh God! Wonyoung’s tiny frame, those cute hard abs, get bulged by your massive erection. A bit of skin and muscles, pushed up by your relentless thrusts, and she is also seeing it. Is she panicking, losing her mind to how you violate almost her entire body?
Her pussy is quick to give you an answer: like a broken, public fountain, she shoots water at you, suddenly soaking your body in her warm pussy juices. With their strong, lewd smell they are the perfect liquid to stain the sheets, more than your balls or her drool can produce. Much to your dismay, most of the nectar gets stuck on you.
“Fuck, turn around,” you command the thin fuckdoll and because she is too enamored by her heavy orgasm—her tiny thighs and long legs trembling up high in the air—you grab her hips and spin her around. Now in Doggy, you keep her upright by pulling her chestnut colored hair and plunge back into her still twitching cunt.
Wonyoung is completely overwhelmed. Instead of the cute, girlie moans you’d expect from her pretty lips, she grunts uncontrollably, her voice still hoarse from your fingers that played with her mouth. The grunts, however, are nothing compared to the wet sounds coming from her pussy as you thrust into the warm cavern, desperate to get more out of it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” both you and Wonyoung groan. The tips of her fingers dig deep into a soft stuffed toy while yours knead her soft butt. The sight of it is amazing; not a big dumpy, like you’ve seen on countless actresses, but so flawlessly smooth with an impossibly tiny asshole you one day need to get your tongue into.
“Pl-please, me-me too.”
Yiren crawls closer to you, her skirt pulled up, her cunt a leaking mess that needs something inside it. The live action fucking in front of her has her on the edge, ready to do her part to fulfill the mission, but you are too mesmerized by Wonyoung.
“Wony, lick her pussy. Get your tongue into her, fuck!” you shout, lost in your frenzy.
The barely thinking, barely functioning Barbie gets her hands onto Yiren’s thighs, at first only breathing, hissing, moaning into the princess’ crotch. It’s enough for Yiren to finally take the lead, forcing Wonyoung’s face straight onto her puffy lips, and the younger surrenders. She kisses and licks all over Yiren’s delicious cunt, the bundle of nerves atop it never left out. Yiren shudders.
“Oh God, oh Go~d, fuck!”
Yiren is louder than a fucking bomb when she explodes onto Wonyoung’s face and more importantly, the bed. Her nectar splashes all over the sheets, their color darkening beneath her knees. Finally, the three of you have made significant progress, and you are eager to make more. Especially Wonyoung seems to be more turned on than before; her pussy is even tighter, her walls ripple as she continues to eat Yiren out.
“You like that, huh? Your face deep in her pussy?” you ask her and give her cute ass a firm spank. “Such a dirty princess!”
“Yesh!” Wonyoung shouts, pressing her behind into your pistoning cock.
“You like my cock fucking you senseless, getting into your insides? You want it all, deeper?”
“Yesh, pleash!”
“Try to push me out, Wonyoung, squeeze me with your stupid little pussy!”
“Ah, shit, fuck! I’m—”
Yiren shuts her team partner up by grinding on her face. It’s enough to send Wonyoung into an orgasmic frenzy—again—and the moment you pull out, she squirts—again—everywhere. It was amazing, absolute bliss for you, but you are not there yet. You need to cum, inside a hot, clenching hole and so you disrupt the two princess’ love making.
Yiren fits perfectly into your hand. She is almost as light as Wonyoung, so you pick her up and place her on the head of the bed. The young woman is still frozen in surprise, her eyes uncertain, then shocked when you spread her legs wide and align your cock with her pussy.
“Oh God, it’s t-too big,” she whines even before you’re inside her.
“You can take it, Yiren, you’re such a good and pretty princess,” you mindlessly groan as you stare at her, then her nipple peeking out above her increasingly bunched up dress. “Now cum all over me.”
Yiren is too easy. Only a few strokes of your cock alongside her velvety walls and her entire body ripples. It starts with her cunt, soon goes to her torso and limbs, before she squirts like a broken garden hose. If the bed was a garden, countless flowers would bloom in it—and Wonyoung wants to make sure you stay to help them.
“You have to stay,” she whines. “Stay inside her and make her cum again.” She pushes you, forces you to almost slip inside Yiren again. From the corner of your eye however you see a red light, the indicator that you have to switch scenes right now.
“I think I did enough.” You pull away Wonyoung’s slender arms and Yiren’s feet trying to get you back inside her. “Get some toys or use your fingers. I’m not playing for your team, you need to play together.”
Yeah, sure, something like that was in the script. Luckily, even these two remember that the show must go on. At least Wonyoung does. The Barbie gets handsy, waving you goodbye while plunging her beautiful, long fingers into Yiren's cunt. What a waste that you won’t cum on those digits tonight.
"Have fun~" Wonyoung cheers as you disappear from her view, towards the next porthole which is already open.
Before you can take in the next setting fully, a nude, masked woman greets you by pulling your face down into her sizable cleavage.
"Quick, get him in here," another voice, feminine yet deep, straightforward yet mysterious, calls and you feel hands all over your body, as they drag you into the room. You only catch glimpses of its interior, a dark, unsettling dungeon with iron bars and cold, smooth walls, akin to the setting of certain Japanese videos you—a friend of yours—used to watch—for scientific reasons.
"Here, pin him down."
That voice just now is truly incredible, if only you could see who it belongs to. Unluckily, you only get to see the ceiling as four hands throw you onto a table. Those two are strong, you think, because your back hurts at the impact.
Suddenly, your view gets replaced by a smooth pussy and jiggly thighs trapping your head on the wooden surface. You take deep breaths, the strong smell of arousal quickly filling your nose. A finger boldly flicks your cockhead.
"Oh, you're really turning him on, Gah," the other woman says, your pulsating cock in her fist. "Ride his face, and I think we’ll get our first points soon."
"Wh-who are you?" you barely squeeze out, words drowned out by drowning in Gahyeon's pussy juice.
"I'm Swan, but we don't have time for that. We need to win this game, which is why you have to suffer.
"Sorry, by the way."
Before you can respond, Swan's fist goes up and down your length with the violence and speed of a raging tiger, ready to fucking destroy you. Tears spawn in your eyes, precum at your tip. She drives you to the edge and keeps you there with rhythmic pumps while you imagine her face in horny delight.
"Is he there yet?" Gahyeon asks, her voice raspy and cruel.
"Why don't you ask him?" Swan responds and twirls her tongue around your balls. You twitch.
Gahyeon lifts a leg and her deadly eyes stare through a terrifying mask right at you. "Tell me when you're about to explode,” she snarks and to put emphasis on her following words, she presses a long finger nail into your abdomen. “If not, I'll kill you.
“And start licking, for fucks sake.”
She plants herself back down before you can answer. She can live with your eager tongue on her thick folds as an analogical agreement. Through Gahyeon’s almost soundproof thighs you hear her passionate groans and Swan’s continuous spitting in her hands and on your cock to get you wet and ready for more of her soft hands.
You can’t deny that they are excellent. Yiren and Wonyoung both had tight, cozy holes, but something about Swan grabbing your dick and mercilessly pumping and twisting it makes your spine tingle. She quickly gets you to arch your back and moan into Gahyeon’s pussy, which has started to glide back and forth over your visage.
“Such a nice cock,” Swan moans. “Look at it, Gah! The head is already burning, I can feel that he’s close.”
Swan puts her second hand on your base and presses her lubed up palm on your underside while she starts to destroy your tip with violent pumps. She is a vicious succubus, trying to get your seed out efficiently without care for your sensitivity. With Gahyeon using your face like a saddle, your mind is left on hold when you loudly tap the table to signal your imminent arrival.
“Swan, now!”
The moment Gahyeon shouts, Swan is gone. No more delicate fingers to hold you, no more fists to jerk you, nothing to stimulate you. You thrust your hips up into air, unable to cum, unable to get your well-deserved release. Those fleeting seconds where you want only one thing are absolutely ruined by not getting this one thing—and then it’s over. You come back down with a devastated sigh.
“That’s one,” Gahyeon says and looks down at you in between her legs. “But we need more.”
“I agree,” Swan says, adjusting her position in between your shivering legs. “Get him to cooperate, I’ll do the rest.”
Gahyeon once again is faster than your attempts at remonstration. She puts her small hand on your throat and carefully increases the amount of weight on it. You gasp in dread before Swan places your still hard cock in the valley of her enormous tits. The valley then turns to a compressed trap where only your glans peeks out.
'Oh fuck', you want to, need to scream but it's futile with Gahyeon's enthusiasm to rub her labia on your lips. Swan shows a very similar need to torture you, her hands eagerly digging into the flesh of her melons and moving them up and down—both at the same time, then at different times, faster, then slower but with more pressure—is she trying to get you killed?
Death by titfuck. That will be an eyecatching epitaph.
"Do it faster," Gahyeon orders her teammate emphatically. "We need to get the score up."
"I know," Swan says, her voice a bit strained. "It's just unfair, you know? Getting him ready again and all that. But I think, fuck, we’re getting there. Look at his tip, isn't it cute?"
Swan licks the slit on your cockhead, cleaning the precum from it and you have to tap out again. You are so close once more, but a terrible gut feeling lets you doubt that you will cover Swan's tits with your cream. You’ve never felt so sick about being right, when she pops you free from the heavens between her large breasts.
They are right there, God dammit.
"That's number two!" Swan gleefully shouts and looks at your pole, pointing at the sky, sensitive and ready to explode, but your balls turn blue again. This can't be healthy, with how frustrated it makes you.
"Use your mouth this time, Swan—"
"Oh yeah? Why don't you do something for once?"
"Huh? We agreed on this earlier! I'm doing my part! Look, he can't even say a word."
"Pl-please," you interrupt the girls' discussion. "Let me, please, let me cum already!"
"Sorry, pal." Swan's voice is soft, and her tongue on your dick is even softer. "But we need to ruin you even more. That's how we're going to win."
"Th-then ruin your own orgasms," you plead with numbness in your mouth, caused by Swan's mouth on your barely numb manhood. "Th-this is cruel."
"He's got a point," Gahyeon thinks out loud. "Ah, fuck this game. If you can get me close, boy, I'll let you escape."
This might be your only chance to get out of this vicious cycle of ruined orgasm and painful edging. So you actually channel all your focus of your lips, tongue and teeth—whatever Gahyeon likes—on her clit. It's surprisingly easy to make her thighs around your ears squirm; Gahyeon's pussy is now wetter than Swan's mouth wrapped around your cockhead.
Suddenly, Swan gives you everything. She forces you to bottom out in her mouth, grow to full hardness once more while she violently gags. She might have been in absolute control over you for the last couple of minutes, but she is perfectly able to make her mouth a slutty hole for your cock. A soft, dominant deepthroat queen with massive tits—she is going to be a super star.
In a surge of ecstasy, fueled by Gahyeon's sweet juice, you buckle your hips upwards and force Swan to choke a little longer on your length. The young woman is not irritated however. After a single breathe she is back to going up and down you cock, sucking along it until your fucking dead.
You know she's going to ruin it again and the only way to pay them back is by ruining Gahyeon's orgasm as well. You finger the pussy above you and quickly flick the blood-filled lips and nub, until she cries out. Then you stop, then Swan stops. She is the only one satisfied—another two points for her team.
You blink a couple of times. Gahyeon, groaning like an enraged bull, has the busty Swan pinned to the metal bars of this dungeon and with all her hatred, slaps the younger's wet cunt.
"Now it's your turn, bitch!"
"Ouch, stop!"
"No. I want to win and you want to win too, so you better ruin yourself on my fingers. Now!"
This is your cue to leave. The dungeon fills with Swan's deep grunts and groans as she finally gets to witness what she put you through again and again and again. You'd love to help Gahyeon; there will be no need for it though. The masked girl is willing to do whatever is necessary to win.
Across from the dungeon, the second to last door is already open. The room mimics a dimly lit laundromat with a dozen or so washing machines. You step inside, cock in your carefully stroking hand. After all, you’ll have to be hard for the next scene, which will be the complete opposite of the last.
“Hello? Can somebody help me?” someone cries (let’s be honest, it’s much closer to a desperate moan) from behind a pile of freshly dried laundry atop a clothes rack. There is a sincere lack of intelligence in that cry, like said person is unable to help themselves. Makes you feel chivalrous.
“Hey, how can I—help you?”
The sight you find behind the pile has your speech a bit halted, interrupted by how, in a room made for washing clothes, someone is severely lacking them: A gorgeous, busty blonde, in nothing but modest, white underwear, though you notice that the bra is at least a size too small and unable to fully carry the weight of her tits.
"Oh, please help me," she moans again. "I think I've picked the wrong bra for me. Can you help me cover so no one can see my boobies while I look for the next?"
What the fuck? This is so fucking stupid on so many levels. How could she—and why would she suggest—what is even happening? The cliche about blondes must be true, because this one is not only dumb as fuck, but also hotness at it's peak. From bust to bottom, no, even to her toes, her body is amazing and tempting.
"Uhm, sure, why not. Can I know your name first?" you politely ask while not so politely getting behind her and cupping her breasts.
"I'm Somi. Thank God your hands are so big, no one can see my boobies now, hihi."
Is it innate for her to sound this silly? If not for this setting, you’d be worried; no human can ever be this stupid, only a buffoon would act in such a way. But maybe Somi’s IQ is just a bit lower than the average person—or maybe she knows no boundaries? The rules of public decency and inappropriate, sexual exposure might be foreign to her? You don’t know. You just know that her boobs are soft and bouncy, two handfuls of pillows to rest your head upon, of stress balls to knead when you are, you know, stressed.
You seem to know a lot more than her, especially because she still tries to find a bra able to hold up her breasts in the midst of clothes which all have two things in common: they are colorful and they are skimpy. It’s like the laundry of a whorehouse with how many short and skin tight skirts, dresses, fishnet stockings you find, let alone the short tops or all the lingerie. Speaking of which, Somi has finally found a bikini top that might be able to do the deed your hands are gleefully doing.
“Do you think this one is good?” she asks, holding up a new, purple bra while you slightly press at the bottom of her tits to watch them wobble on your finger tips.
“Try it out, because I’m not so sure with your massive boobs.”
Somi giggles and tries to put on the bra. You leave enough room, really, you do, for her to tie up the thin strands, but Somi is unable to. She mewls a couple of times before you go in and securely tie up the strands yourself. You are promptly rewarded, because the blonde decides to bend down and press her ass back against your crotch, your exposed cock, rapidly hard again at the touch of her cotton panties.
“Thank you, again,” Somi says and pushes her chest up for all to see. “What do you think, is this good?”
“Somi, is it possible that you are fucking stupid?” Oh, that sounded a lot harsher than it should have. The tension is quickly palpable. You hear someone gasp from the other end of the room.
“W-why?” Somi’s question is abashed, a bit shocked; even in this state of complete bimboness, she still looks so good.
“Because these bottoms don’t fit your top,” you say and pull at the side of her panties until they snap off of her hips. “You should change them. White and purple don’t fit together all too well.”
Somi looks down at her cleavage, the purple lace engulfing her tits, then to her thighs which have been parted by your cock. The tip peaks from in between her legs and you softly groan out the pleasure her perfect gap gives you into her ear. There is no mere hint of slickness from her heat, there are ridiculous amounts of evidence of it, proof spreading all over. It’s a clear case of horniness, you better resolve the issue immediately.
“You’re right,” Somi mumbles, thighs swaying. “I should look for the right bottoms. They should be in here.” Things couldn’t get any better, because now Somi is bending over, hands in the pile of clothes, while your hands are in the plentifulness of her ass. You hold her steady, align your cock with a hole that looks so ready to get fucked and then push forward. Somi almost stumbles forward, but you save her from making an even greater mess of this place by continuing to make a mess out of her.
“Oh God,” she moans, a pink crop top in hands. “I-I can’t find it.”
“Continue, continue searching,” you groan back and slam your hips forward, then backwards, your cock entering and exiting her cunt at will—your will is strong, overpowering every small exhaustion in chase of that first true release of this messy pornographic shoot, a shoot where teams fight to win, yet this “team” does not even have a target goal.
Somi’s goal is to be stupid, oblivious to your cock gaping her pussy open time and time again, and for this being her first time on cam, she is excellent. Of course, her dumb moans can’t be deactivated, you doubt even a ball gag can fully do that, but a benevolent interpretation of this scene allows for these moans to be of desperation. Somi just really wants to find these purple bikini bottoms—your cock spreading her pussy and the camera lens on it is just a side product.
“Da-damnit, fuck,” Somi seems to give up, defeatedly grabbing the edge of the table while you hold onto her shoulders to get faster, deeper inside of her. “They are not h-here.”
“Maybe you need to take a step back and look at it from afar,” you tell her and all it takes is a pull at her shoulders and Somi stands straight up. From now on, your thrusts go upwards and Somi can casually bounce along while her dizzy eyes try to process the color purple amidst a pile so colorful, every pride parade would become envious.
Your arms instinctively wrap around Somi’s small waist. You need to keep her here, can’t let her get away, not when you are this close to finally cumming. Your balls are aching, your tip is stimulated and you know that it will be glorious. Somi’s body, from a face that could make news just for its beauty, paired with a pair of perky, large boobs, amplified by a tight, muscular midriff, killer hips and strong, full thighs, she has to be everyone’s type.
People will click on her videos millions of times, yet you are about to be the first to cream her, you can call dibs on that pussy, no male rival co-star stands a chance. Your cock is ready, your legs able to give more power into the final thrusts when suddenly—
“Oh, I found it!”
—Somi leans forward, hand stretched out, ready to grab what has always been on top of this entire pile, in your view forever, in everyone’s view forever, only Somi took forever to find it: purple panties. No, they can’t ruin your perfect orgasm. You heartlessly push Somi against the table, head first into the laundry. Her scream now muffled by a dozen of clothes in her face, you manically fuck your load into her doggy until cum floods her cavern and clothes flood the laundromat floor.
Every part of you is twitching, so is Somi and her pussy. A bit more, a bit more, she squeezes out of you, but she is full. In the midst of all this chaos, this silly, flushed bitch was able to grab the panties. You give her tits a harsh slap to awaken her from the cock induced slumber.
“Put them on, quick, before we make a bigger mess.”
Somi obliges, though shaky. You help her by holding onto her hips, her tits, all those things you could grab forever. When your shaft falls out of her pussy and you watch her catch most of your load with the tight panties, you want to push them to the side and just fuck her full pussy again. That’s when you notice someone down the aisle of washing machines—is it Somi’s teammate?
“Who the fuck is th—”
“Help, I’m stuck!”
This one is a classic. A trope so beyond stereotypical, everyone knows it. Just like the dumb blonde, this one can be found on every porn site ever. The only thing missing is that she calls you stepbro. That would be a bit too much though. Her ass sticking out of one of the washing machines while she absolutely tries to get back out of it is already cliche enough to you.
Oh yeah, she’s also completely naked.
“Oh no, Yuna is stuck!” Somi states the exposition for the viewer, who is utterly uninvolved in the engaging plot they stopped paying attention to since this video's thumbnail. “We need to help her!”
Somi waddles towards her partner. You see trails of cum running down her legs, unceremoniously dropping to the floor and making a lewd, sticky mess of it. She seems unbothered, just like you, and the camera absolutely loves it. The view then switches from this to a new, exposed and impressively large ass.
“Help, help,” Yuna shouts again, metallic reverberation unable to dampen the stupidness in her voice. You had filmed a scene like this one already, but there are no complaints whatsoever. As long as you can get your hands on Yuna’s ass, pull those cheeks apart and get the first view of those two smooth, clean holes, why would you complain?
“How did this happen, Yuna?” Somi asks worriedly, arms alongside Yuna’s frame, definitely ‘pulling’ on her teammate's waist, while your mind imagines all the ways you could rim Yuna for hours.
“I wanted to pull my underwear out of here,” she responds with a whine. “But now I am stuck!”
Go figure, she is brainless as well. Both of them are, but nature has instead given them the envy of millions of women: divine bodies that are effortlessly sexy and beautiful. Smooth skin, toned legs, curves to die for—in your admiration you notice that your energy is returning quicker than ever before.
It might not fit the story, the narrative, the game, but in this moment of bliss, you couldn’t care less. Knees bend, cock guided by your thumb, you press your tip against Yuna’s ring and find the entry into her asshole to be a lot easier than expected. Her moan bounces through the washing machine just like her boobs bounce in surprise.
Confusion has Somi frozen, her body only reacting when you put force in your thrusts, enough power to make Yuna hit her dumb head against the back of the washing drum. A profuse whimper made metallic, not that you care, but Somi seems to get back into the real world where she is still as moronic as before.
“H-how is this supposed to help Yuna?”
It’s not. Tell her that. Tell her and Somi will continue complaining like this without getting any pleasure from you. Serves her right, won’t make the scene any better though, thus you find her neck with your hand and find her eyes with yours. They sparkle knowingly.
“You really are the dumbest thing alive.”
A pull and Yuna is out of the drum. Blonde hair flows down her back, hides her frail shoulders and in the reflection of the metal drum you see her lips in a light, glistening pink. They are full and made for sucking. In the sea of her endless, golden hair, your hand twists and twists until Yuna voluntarily raises herself from the ground and arches her back towards you. Your goal is not to kiss her lips (though that would be one hell of an experience) but to drown her in Somi’s cleavage.
“What are you—Yuna! No, don’t pull it down, I-I just found it.”
Sweat evaporates from your temple when you see those lips wrap around one of Somi’s nipples and begin to lewdly suck on it. The thrill is engaging, Yuna’s ass invites you back in and it’s with ease that you fuck her puckered hole. You poke the depths of this suffocating cavern and Yuna begins to poke all over Somi’s body. The dumber blonde hesitates briefly, hands first on her thighs, then Yuna’s until she ends up below her friend.
“Now you are trapped,” Yuna giggles and drool leaves her mouth in purposefully large amounts, able to transform the valley between Somi’s tits into a canal.
“You two are so fucking stupid, fuck, fuck your hot bodies.”
You are starting to lose it, for every word they utter, your intelligence gets insulted but your arousal heightened. You spank Yuna’s ass and she tightens to the point where you need to give it your all to fuck her faster. What an odd time to notice that they haven’t told you their task yet. How can you help them get points? Shit, what was in the script again? Are you really that much smarter if you can’t remember?
“Yuna, Yuna, that feels so good,” Somi moans out and sways on the floor from side to side until you press Yuna right on top of her. With their incredible bodies entangled and you nonstop fucking into the tight ass, their sensitive spots have to rub each other, nipples on nipples, clits on clits, and Somi is the first to collapse. “Oh my God, I-I’m about to wet my panties, oh no, Yuna!”
“Me too, my butt, I’m going to cum from my butt!” Yuna’s silly fucked body, and her silly face and her silly feminine voice have you on the verge to become silly as well. Both blonde’s indulge in their wet, heavy orgasms and you push your tip back into Yuna so many times that you flood her with a pent up load that momentarily shuts down your brain.
So this is how they feel all the time—brainless but blissful. At least stupid bitches fuck good.
“Oh, Somi, there, there is so much in my ass~”
“Really? Can I feel it?”
Somi puts two fingers against Yuna’s puckered hole, but before she can get a scoop of your load that is still hidden in the tightly clenching butt, Yuna stands up. “No, Somi, ew,” Yuna shouts, moans, something in between, again. “You have to eat it straight from the butt, like this.”
You are back in the hub room, all the rooms finally open. Before you make your way to the last room, you decide to take a quick look into each scene you’ve already participated in that only users that buy the premium pass (which is off 69%, only today on k-jizzers.cum) can still watch:
In the first room, Wonyoung and Yiren sit on the edge of the bed, fingering each other's pussies until they violently squirt all over the mattress. Both of them look sweaty and exhausted, but they continue to drink water and share saliva to go for another round. Stay hydrated, everyone.
“Let’s do this, Barbie, I know your tiny body can cum again!”
“O-okay, b-but only if you kiss me.”
In the second room, Swan is fully naked, her backside turned to you. She is tied to the metal bars with handcuffs on both of her wrists. Below her is Gahyeon, thrusting a dildo up into that tiny tight cunt, while her own hole is stuffed with a loud bullet vibrator. They are really committed to this game.
“I swear, Swan, if you cum again, I’ll kick your ass, literally!”
“S-sorry, Mommy, I try, try, try—I’m so close!”
In the third room, well, those blondes finally found a way to snowball your cum, not from mouth to mouth, but ass to mouth. Yuna sits on Somi’s face, head thrown back, unable to not moan as your white spunk oozes out of her. Bon Appetit.
“Oh God, don’t put your tongue in!”
“But he tastes so good, let me be greedy this one time.”
The final room is a classroom, unmistakably. It has an old blackboard, a long desk for the teacher, smaller desks and chairs for the pupils. No matter when or where you’ve been to school, this will surely evoke memories of forgotten homework, endless lessons and bratty students.
“Ew, is that the new guy?” you hear someone complain from across the room, disgust in her voice, fingernails rapidly typing on her phone.
“Oh yeah, but what did you expect? At least he gives some big dick energy,” a response follows promptly, though this time they both look up from their phones and stare at you. You quickly find coverage behind the teachers desk to hide your manhood. A miserable attempt that has one of the girls outraged.
“Ayo, what the fuck? Do you think you’re some kind of teacher now?”
“Maybe he is here to teach us a lesson, lol.”
Did the girl on the left, in her messed up blouse and way-too-short checkered skirt, the waistband of a light brown thong on display, just like her midriff and navel—did she just say ‘lol’ out loud? Well, at this point the viewer will neither cringe or notice, too good is this material, too hot their bodies.
“Maybe he is here to teach you a lesson for breaking the dress code,” the girl adds as she approaches the desk.
“Yeri, you—you’re worse than me! Everyone can see your bra, what the fuck,” the other girl shouts and goes in for a slap on Yeri’s butt. The impact has you peeking out as a small melee breaks out.
“At least I tried, Yeojin, unlike you. Where is your skirt, your blouse? I can almost see your tits.” Yeri reaches for Yeojin’s chest, which is covered by this tiny, one piece swimsuit, so tiny in fact, even Yeojin’s small body seems to spill out of it. When there is so much shortness, of course Yeojin’s shorts are no different. Her shorts are actually shorter than Yeri’s skirt, which is already quite short—
“You tried?” Yeojin shrieks and tugs at Yeri’s blouse, accidentally undressing her. Who could have known, the bra below is actually a bikini top. “It’s falling off of your body.”
“Ts,
“Hey, you fucker! Get out already, we got some beef to settle.”
Yeri kicks the desk and you hear pencils roll down from it. They surely have not forgotten about you and your assumed big dick energy, so it was no use to continue hiding. You crawl out and straighten your posture, clearly taller than the two young women who don’t waste time looking up and gawking at the height difference. Both sets of hands go straight to your abdomen, your crotch, your cock. Yeojin is the first to pump, rubbing her fishnet sleeves carelessly over your sensitive tip.
“Watch it,” you hiss and get fistfuls of their hair, which to your surprise does not faze them at all. “You two are running your mouth, spewing bullshit. This is no way how you should treat people older and taller than you.”
Yeri frees herself easily from your grasp and you gasp when her knuckles dig into your stomach. It wasn’t really a punch, but somehow, she has you stunned. A smirk appears on her feisty features. “Watch it, asshole. This is our classroom, you’re the one below us. If you want some respect, don’t flex with your height. Flex with something else. Proof your worth.”
“O-oh yeah? And how should I do this?”
“Fuck us,” Yeojin casually says and pulls back the skin on your cock to the point it hurts and all the surging blood forces you to peak stiffness. “You get points for every position, the more creative, the better. Show us that this thing is more ‘do-er’ than ‘show-er’.”
Their eyes are the epitome of ‘fuck-me’ eyes, hell, they imagined fucked you the moment you entered, and in your mind, you’ve fucked them in every conceivable way possible. With all this imaginary fuckery, it’s about due time for the real fucking to start, though it’s definitely bugging you that these small, bratty girls get to start it off and lead the way.
Guess your positions have to be rough.
“Fine,” you sigh and get ready to push Yeojin down to her knees, but there is no need. She takes the short fall and her lips aggressively wrap around your tip before you can overthink your decision.
“No need to agree, it wasn’t up to you anyway,” Yeri laughs and you feel her fingers roam your upper body, everything from butt, back, nape to stomach and chest. She lingers there for a long time, cupping your pecs while you imagine cupping her surprisingly big tits—then Yeri dives in and starts to suck one of your nipples, while Yeojin bops her head back and forth.
“You tiny bitches.” They make it hard to breathe, their sluttiness and sloppiness is excellent, their enthusiasm matches that of Wonyoung. “You greedy, evil little things. You’ll regret that.”
“We’ll see about that,” Yeojin moans when your cock pops from her luscious lips and you’re back to receiving harsh, painful pumps from her fishnet clad hands. “What’s stopping you, huh?”
Nothing, really, so you don’t keep them waiting any longer. You reach into the back of Yeri’s bikini bottoms while simultaneously finding a good grip on Yeojin’s ponytail. A bit of adjusting on both ends, suddenly there is nothing but sounds of horniness, of rampant, uncensored sex. Well, there is of course a lot more than that, but who could think of anything else—
—but Yeojin’s cock-sucking lips sucking cock. They are the only thick thing on this miniscule rookie pornstar. You jerk your hips forward and her nose meets your base. You keep it that way as her tight throat struggles with your size and saliva spills from her lips.
Yeojin’s gags seem to turn on Yeri, her wet pussy dripping on your fingers as you rub it, never too fast, to keep her on the edge to—yeah, teach her a lesson. Look at that needy face, that heaving bosom, she is so desperate for more stimulation, but could never admit to it. Yeri’s pride keeps her from begging for your fingers to twirl inside her cunt.
“Is that really how you want to do it?” That’s as close to a beg as you will get from Yeri, nonetheless, you’ll give her more rubs. All this struggle is unbeknownst to the viewer, who can only see Yeri’ ecstatic face and wide open mouth as you finally insert two digits in her cunt. “That’s better, fuck.”
“Ride my fingers, Yeri. Impress me, and I’ll fuck you on the desk.”
“You, you will either way,” she chirps back, voice about to break when you thrust knuckles deep and curl, all while making Yeojin your sex doll.
Those gags of hers have become too dangerous though, so you take a step back and intensely watch as Yeojin coughs up lots and lots of saliva, letting it run down her pretty little face, her throat that was just stuffed like some obscene christmas chicken. In disbelief you watch her wipe her tears away and grin on, as if she wasn't just fighting for her life. Nothing can get Yeojin down, her brattiness is unreal.
Yeri does not seem amused at the lack of attention you give her. She pulls your hand out of her pussy and waddles towards the desk. In a burst of creativity, you grab her and slam her on the desk, on her back. Yeri winces in pain, but you already have her entrance exposed and filled before she can complain. And complain, she shall never again.
“Fuck, so big, be ca-care-ful!”
“Now that’s—oh God, you’re tight—now that’s not what I expected from you,” you groan manically, as you pin Yeri down with both your eyes and hands. “Shut up and take it. I want to see your tits bounce.”
Out of nowhere, Yeojin’s thin hand creeps under the thin string of Yeri’s bikini top and pulls it off. Finally, you can see those modest breasts swing freely while you do what you’re best at: plunging your fat cock into a wet cunt. Yeri moans, in a deep craze, deep pleasure, her hips grind in circles so you have to pin her down harder, hands in the soft flesh above those hips—just fuck faster and lose your mind.
“Yeri, your pussy looks so full,” Yeojin giggles and brushes stray hair out of her friend’s ecstatic face. “Don’t tell me you’re already about to cum?”
“No-no, never—”
“Oh great, cuz I won’t let you,” you promptly say and pull out of that stretched hole, gaped and absolutely desperate for an orgasm that was right around the corner. A few more pumps and Yeri would have been gone, her first on cam climax was so close.
But now it’s Yeojin’s turn. After all you want those points—or is it their points? You don’t care, you just hook your arms underneath her thighs and pick her up. She’s as light as she looks and her pink cavern is as snug as you anticipate. Yeojin holds onto your neck for stability, while you split her open further and further and when she leans into you, you feel your cock bulge her.
“Fuck, fuck, that’s the spot.” Use Yeojin like a fleshlight, an upgrade to her sex doll mouth, and she surrenders to the pleasure. Wasn’t this supposed to be Team Bratty or something? This is more—
“Team Cockhungry, absolute sluts,” you shout at her but Yeojin is just mindless and her lips quiver anxiously whenever you’re not guiding her small body up and down your cock. “Yeri, get on the wall. Present your ass to me, if you want this cock again.”
Yeri nods, only focused on you. She needs a second to find orientation again, while you make Yeojin lose all orientation as you spin her around and fuck her full nelson. An insane idea by the producers, stand and carry sex for the finale, but with a girl this small, it’s actually possible. You are still the unrestrained engine that pistons and pistons until Yeojin is ready to burst.
“Not yet, not yet,” you coo as you ruin yet another orgasm. A wet pop when you remove yourself from what could be a perfect hole for cockwarming, breeding and many other lewd adventures. The industry will empty their pockets to get a video with this pocket pussy girl. But for now, she is all yours and quite dismayed.
“You, you dick, better make it up later,” Yeojin says, voice deeply judgemental. It has to be ignored, because first, you have to make it up for a certain someone who wasn’t satisfied with your fingers or a short missionary fuck. Yeri needs you again, deep and hard, while her fragile legs try to keep her upright.
You watch the side of her face, the lip bite, the palms flaking off the wallpaper, the thighs trapping you and your cock is already on her labia. Yeri rubs her love juice all over your rod and you follow her plea and take the lead with a thrust that can be heard around the world.
“Fuck, it’s deep, your cock is deep in my pussy.” The disbelief in her voice sounds genuine, just like the attempt to crawl up the wall to drop back down on your cock. Yeri wants you to hit her cervix, finally cumming all over you but you need to savor this position more.
“Deeper than anything else.” A hand in her hair, you press everything of her against the wall. “I know you like it deep, your best spots are there. You’re a slut for large cocks, you only want them while standing up.”
“No, I need them to pick me up! Lift me up and fuck me, break me open deeeeep!”
Yeri must have been so envious of Yeojin. You might have picked the wrong girl to lift on high and fill from below. You can still make it up though; Yeri’s tits are repurposed as handles to pull her back onto your chest, feet suddenly flying. You might be blinded by strands of her hair all over your face, but you can still feel the weight of Yeri down on your cock, while you’re still drilling into her. She is getting higher, not only physically, but mentally. She loves nothing more than to be watched while a huge shaft fucks her. The stimulation sends her into a sea of bliss, a deep ocean, like the puddle of girl cum beneath your feet.
“I’m going to cum on your cock,” Yeri screams and tries to choke out a load from your balls, yet all she is choking you with is her hair on your face. “I love it, y-you can finish with me—”
The last time the camera captured someone cum so hard was about thirty minutes ago, either Wonyoung or Yiren, but unlike Team Princess next door, Yeri does it involuntarily. You pound the squirt out of her sloppy cunt until your legs become a slippery lubed mess and you almost slip on the cheap classroom floor. Yeri shouts and whines, the inside of her pussy still rippling when you pull out of it.
When you place Yeri back against the wall and feel the somewhat cold studio air brush past your erection, you realize that Yeri was close to getting you off too early. You are throbbing, surfing on the edge, almost getting blue balled. The only thing that can save you is Yeojin and the only thing you see is her ass, as she props herself up on all fours in between the chairs of—
Who counts chairs and who fucking cares? Just slam your cock into her ass and hear her screech in shock at the sudden fullness of her back entrance. There will be no ruined orgasm for you this time, Yeojin’s ass is your guarantee and you doubt her brattiness will return. Not when she moans so submissively. A question remains as you bury yourself repeatedly in Yeojin’s rectum: how can she be shocked when it's all lubed up and relaxed and eager to take you back inside like the pussy of a veteran porn star?
Yeojin really was born for this job. Her petite frame will be perfect for various porn sites related to kinks: size difference, stand and carry, small tits. The videos of her getting bulged will become legendary amongst the horniest or Reddit and Tumblr communities. Guys will have their way with her, her head will be spinning after some huge guys have her unconventionally spitroasted in the air or one of those tall, muscular women takes her for a ride on a strap-on.
They won’t have to worry about anal from her, because Yeojin takes it legendarily, narrowing at just the right time to go beyond the audio-visual perfection that is her penetrated ass—in simpler words, it feels as good as it looks. She can rival Yuna or maybe form some butt slut dream team, that’s how fucking amazing fucking her ass is.
“Yeri get back here, I’m close,” you promptly announce whilst scoring again by forcing Yeojin into a prone position and marking her shoulders with tender bites. Yeri struggles to find footing, only able to push forward because of all the tables and chairs. When she finally reaches you, you give Yeojin your final pumps as her entire frame is struck by an orgasmic earthquake.
In this day and age, everything has to be fast, even porn has to fit the 15 second shorts, reels, tiktok culture, so you start to cum in Yeojin and push Yeri to the ground at the same time. Then you reach for Yeri’s butt while holding back as many spurts as you can, to get her in this sweet piledriver and then paint both the outside and inside off her petite yet bubbly ass. It’s perfect for a short clip, that little teaser that plays when you’re about to click on the next JAV thumbnail on that shady site.
The HD or 4K settings across all screens can never do the real sight of a blissfully filled Yeri justice, as she eagerly spreads her own cheeks and everyone gets the awesome view of cum that seeps out of a gaped ass. The upside down (pretty, little, risky) baddie cleans off that hard-working cockwith her formerly bratty mouth. Deep exhales through her nose send a nice, warm stream of air around your base, which finally loses stiffness, the tension, it comes crashing down in the well-known post-nut clarity.
In this clarity however, you find Yeri’s final defiance; her lips will not let go of your cock and her tongue on your sensitive slit makes you curl your toes and whine out the agony which shoots up to your head like electric shocks. To top it all off, you feel Yeojin grin behind you when she wraps her slender arms around your midriff. This wasn’t in the script!
“The shooting might be over,” the tiny girl whispers. “But we are not done with you.”
“There are still a lot of points to be collected.
“And you will collect all of them.”
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#male reader insert#izone smut#male reader smut#ive smut#wonyoung smut#yiren smut#gahyeon smut#swan smut#yuna smut#somi smut#yeojin smut#loona smut#red velvet smut#i.o.i smut#itzy smut#dreamcatcher smut#purple kiss smut#everglow smut
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smitten: y/n (reluctantly) agrees to go to jimin's big halloween bash and she forgot how much she actually hated parties
➺ pairing; jeon jungkook x reader
➺ genre; smitten!miniseries!! bff!kook and smitten!y/n!! university!au!! honk honk humour!! the boohoo angsty wattpady fic of your dreams!! the pining and yearning is off the charts!! jimin’s still an asshole but what’s new!!
➺ wordcount; 9.2k
➺ summary; putting on a smile while watching ji-eun cuddle up to jungkook is already hard enough, but when y/n is (reluctantly) invited to jimin’s massive halloween party, she can’t help but even more out of place.
➺ what to expect; “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
➺ currently playing on cee.fm; favourite crime [olivia rodrigo]
➺ smitten: part one [the almost confession]; part two [the incriminating note]; part three [the date]
»»————- 👻 ————-««
you’re pretty sure you’re in hell.
you’re not sure what you did in your past life to have deserved this, but past-life y/n must’ve killed a baby or set an entire village on fire or something to that degree because you’re pretty sure that in this current timeline, you’re in hell
you stay quiet as you munch on your (slightly soggy, unfortunately) sandwich, scrolling through your phone (but not really paying attention to your instagram feed because apparently you’re a glutton for punishment and you keep wanting to look up and just stare at jungkook and ji-eun in all their coupley glory) while your foot taps anxiously against the ground
you know that if you say you can sit somewhere else to give the two of them some privacy that jungkook will insist that you stay, but you feel like the longer you sit here the faster the people around you will see that you’re just a big ol’ monster truck sized third wheel
you could lie and say that you have to go to the library to get some work done, but jungkook’s really good at knowing when you’re lying to him (apparently you have VERY obvious tells which you were very unaware of) so that’s not going to be a feasible plan either
it’s just that being here is incredibly uncomfortable but it seems like the only option you have is to stay and sit through it — which, again, reiterates your point of you being pretty sure you’re being punished for something you did in your past life
“my handsome boy…” ji-eun giggles lightly, reaching over to adjust the collar of jungkook’s jacket before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, “i like this jacket a lot.”
“yeah?” he gives his girlfriend a boyish grin, looking down at his jacket before looking back up at her, “lucky for you, you can borrow it anytime you’d like-“ you glance up at them, the little voice in your brain stopping you from interrupting them to say that that is a nice jacket because you chose it for jungkook — and you feel like that comment could potentially lump you into the pick-me-girl-best-friend category which you’d very much like to avoid
“borrow? no, i’m stealing it-“
“no way! i got this thrifted for, like, fifteen bucks, i’m not letting you steal it-“
“alright, then you better sleep with one eye open the next time i stay over at yours because this is a nice jacket-“
you can’t help but look over at the empty seat next to you on the bench as you let out a quiet sigh… you have never felt so horribly single in your entire life.
and it doesn’t help that it’s cuffing szn this cuffing szn that all over your social media — your tiktok feed has not been very friendly to you as of late, the app flooded with countless videos of cute couples bundling up for the colder seasons
if anything you need to be cuffed to the wall before you go crazy and rip your eyelashes out from frustration
unsurprisingly, jungkook and ji-eun are a couple now, but really, are you surprised? jungkook is great, ji-eun is great, they went on a great first date (thanks to you, let’s be honest) and all the dates after that went well too because it lead to jungkook asking ji-eun if she wanted to be exclusive with him
you knew that things were going well when jungkook started hanging out with you less and less
and then when they officially got together, you didn’t think it could possibly get any worse but your already puny twice a week hangouts turned into two hours a week before he’d zip off to spend time with ji-eun
in fact, within the last two weeks, he’s only hung out with you once… which is fine, because you understand the honeymoon stage and you understand how giddy people can be when they get into a brand new relationship and just want to spend all their time with this new person
you know for sure that if you were the one who’d gotten into a new relationship, you’d definitely want to spend as much time with your person because why wouldn’t you want to do that? you really can’t blame the guy
you have other friends you can hang out with, but it’s just not as fun because even when you’re having a good time with them, your mind keeps wandering back to what jungkook is doing with ji-eun
and of course, when jungkook mentioned to you over a quick lunch one afternoon that he was planning on asking ji-eun to make things official, it’s not like you could tell him that it was a horrible idea and that he shouldn’t be dating ji-eun without ruffling feathers and raising brows of suspicion
the only person it would be a horrible idea for would be you, and you’re not enough of a dickhead to ruin a potentially good thing because of your own desires
and obviously, she said yes because why wouldn’t she say yes?
…
you know, there really isn’t a way for you to talk about this situation without sounding like the most bitter person on the planet, so perhaps you should move on now
“okay, i’m putting you two on drinks duty for the party!” jimin seems to appear out of thin air and you turn your head to look at him standing at the front of the table with an armful of flyers and the usual bossy, snarky persona that literally drains you every time you have an interaction with him, “unless you’re too busy making out to handle that.”
“no, we can handle it-“ ji-eun rolls her eyes playfully, pulling away from jungkook before reaching over and plucking the list from jimin’s slim fingers, “jesus, jimin. twelve bottles of vodka??”
“i’ll give you my credit card, just put all the charges on it-“ jimin shrugs, sliding in next to you before nudging you over a little, “this is going to be my greatest party yet. i’m charging $10 an admission and i’m renting out this huge house- i don’t think you can even comprehend how massive this party is going to be. it’s gonna be so much better than last year’s one.”
“i remember hearing about your party last year!” you chime in, offering jimin a polite smile even though he’s not looking at you, “it sounded like it was super fun.”
“so, you guys are on drinks, so that’s covered-“ jimin makes a tick on his clipboard before nodding to himself, “decor is covered, catering is covered, rent for the night is covered…”
you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek, slumping in your seat a little and resisting the urge to roll your eyes
you still have no clue what jimin’s problem is with you, but at this point you’ve gotten used to the way he acts like you literally do not exist at all
you mentioned it to jungkook one time, wondering if maybe you were just looking too far into it and that there was nothing to take personally to which he responded with an enthusiastic nod and a “no, i also get the vibe that he doesn’t like you and i have no idea why… just let him be an ass if he wants to be one, don’t stoop to his level. life is too short to waste energy on weird people.”
so if jimin wants to continue being an ass to you, you’re just gonna let it roll off you like water off a duck’s back
“funny enough, y/n and i were gonna go to your party last year, but the kids in y/n’s building were trick or treating so we decided to stay home and watch horror movies and hand out candy instead-“ jungkook clears his throat, eyes flickering over to you for a brief second, “we also, like, decorated the doorway like it was a haunted apartment to freak the kids out. and y/n had this great idea to have a cauldron filled with warm spaghetti and she told the kids it was brain stew-“
“oh my god, i forgot about that-“ you snort, “i feel like we should’ve done, like, warm pudding instead or something, but the spaghetti kinda had the same effect and my kitchen smelled like an italian restaurant for two weeks after that-“
“let’s talk costumes!” jimin interrupts you, smacking his palm down on the table before pointing his pen at ji-eun and jungkook, “please don’t show up in anything tacky.”
“we were thinking barbie and ken!” ji-eun grins, “not tacky, totally trendy — i know we probably won’t be the only barbie and kens in the room, but it’s just so trendy and i loved her pink sequinned cowboy outfit- or if that’s not available, i think the 80s skater costumes were a vibe-“
“i can’t whait to talk about horshes and capitahlism wiv a bunch of ovher kensj.” jungkook laughs lightly with a mouthful of sandwich, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it at you
you scowl playfully when it bounces off your forehead and lands on the ground
“you could go as allen, y/n. that’d be pretty funny.” jungkook swallows his bite, and you want to tell him that he doesn’t have to include you in every part of the conversation because you can practically see the pity for you radiating off of him in waves
you know for a fact he feels bad that he’s not been able to hang out with you as much lately because every time you do hang out he always brings you a drink or a snack with sympathetic little puppy dog eyes
and every time you have lunch with him and ji-eun he’s always making an effort to include you in the conversation — especially when jimin is around because again, it’s pretty clear the guy doesn’t like you
you and jungkook spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out why he didn’t like you so much, but you couldn’t come up with any conclusive results, so now whenever jimin is around, jungkook makes even more effort to include you in the conversation
“allen was my favourite character, so that’s not even a bad idea.” you chirp, pulling out one of the flyers from jimin’s neat pile before looking at it for the details
“oh, right. yeah, you can come too, i guess.” jimin clears his throat quietly, taking the flyer back from you with a chuckle, “…you don’t seem like you’d have anything crazy going on on a friday night.”
“i can come too? i thought that everyone was invited to this thing?” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to the little note on the flyer, “all it says is general admission.”
“…right.” jimin smiles sweetly at you, “and i suppose i’ll waive the fee for you since you’re… friends with jungkook.”
“how sweet of you.” you respond curtly, offering a smile just as sweet before letting it drop as soon as he looks away
you are absolutely dreading having to go to this party.
»»————- 👻 ————-««
“are you sure you don’t want us to come and pick you up? ji-eun has space in her car, you’d just have to sit in the back with all the drinks n stuff-“
“i’m good, jungkook, really-“ you mutter, pausing for a second to smudge out your lipstick before leaning back in your chair and turning side to side to look at your finished look
not that this is jungkook’s fault, but the fact that the two of you really haven’t been hanging out as often gave you a lot of time to think about what you wanted to dress up as for jimin’s halloween costume, and after a solo spooky movie binge the other weekend, you decided that you wanted to dress up as emily from the corpse bride
sure, it’s been done so many times — but you love the movie and you love emily and you had so much time to get everything you needed for this costume so why not dress up as her??
you reach up to adjust your blue wig, tugging at it slightly to make sure it’s nice and secure
“i’m just gonna uber there! plus, my place is kind of out of the way if you guys are already headed to jimin’s.” you clear your throat, “thank you for the offer though. make sure to let ji-eun know i really appreciate the gesture.”
“okay, i will…” jungkook murmurs, and you can tell by the tone in his voice that he wants to say something but he’s holding himself back, “i guess i’ll see you at the party, then? we’ll probably be there in about forty minutes.”
“yes, i’ll see you guys at the party.” you nod, wiping the leftover blue lipstick on your fingers on a tissue before reaching over to get ready to press the hangup button
“y/n?” jungkook’s voice crackling out from your phone speaker makes you pause, and you pull your hand back
“yea?”
“we’re- we’re good, right?” the question is somewhat of a surprise to you due to its weirdly serious, non-jungkook nature, your eyes flickering down to look at the contact photo you have set for your friend
he grins like a maniac at the camera, eyes wide and lit up with excitement at the cheesy corn dog he’s holding in front of him
the corner of your mouth twitches in a fond smile at the memory of that day — jungkook was convinced he’d be able to eat three corn dogs in one sitting and the day ended with him basically destroying your toilet and then refusing to let you use it until the smell cleared out
“what do you mean?” you clear your throat quietly, lips parting to say something else before you press them together and decide against it
“i mean- i know we haven’t been hanging out a lot lately so i just-“ jungkook coughs, “you know, you’re my best friend and i wanna make sure that everything is… good between us.”
“i-“ you pause again, gaze averting to the side as you think about his comment
if you’re being completely honest, you don’t think everything is good between the two of you — the first reason why being the fact that you are still completely and utterly head over heels in love with him, and the second reason being that he’s in a relationship with someone else and you’re really not sure how much more of this you can take before you go insane
but this isn’t exactly something you can hash out over a crackly phone call, and you’re really not in the mood to potentially destroy two relationships at once
you really don’t know what you’re going to do about this emotional mess, but what you do know is that you’re going to have to take it day by day until you’re eventually ready to face it head on — and tonight, your only job is to smile, enjoy being young, and have lots of fun at what you’re sure is going to be an amazing party despite it being hosted by someone who hates your guts for no reason
“we’re- we’re good, kook.” you manage to push out, despite the words practically fighting their way out of your mouth, “you’re my best friend, too.”
“okay. so i’ll see you soon?”
“yea.” you look at yourself in the vanity mirror, wondering if the sadness in your eyes will make your costume that much more believable, “i’ll see you soon.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the six pack of lime seltzer water (you got the fancy kinds in glass bottles) clinks in their cardboard carrier as you walk on the sidewalk, blue heels clicking against the pavement as you follow the path leading up towards the house that-
“holy shit.” your jaw drops at the sheer size of this literal mansion — what looks to be an endless number of burgundy bricks separated by neat, thin layers of cement that are stacked on top of each other, two large, white columns that cast identical shadows on the curved sidewalk leading up to the large, black front door, and not to mention, the insane halloween decorations: huge spider webs stretched over the door and windows, fairy lights wrapped around the columns, a stack of pumpkins sitting by the front steps kardashian-style
you don’t like jimin but you have to hand it to him, he sure can throw a party
“s’cuse us, sorry!” a trio of girls dressed up as sluttier versions of the powerpuff girls brush past you, bubbles turning around to shoot you a grin, “love your costume, by the way!”
“oh, thank you!” your face immediately breaks into a wide grin, “you guys look great, too-“
the random compliment lifts your mood up slightly — you know you’re more than capable of making friends anywhere you go, so if jungkook is too busy mingling with the other couples, you know you’ll be fine
and hopefully jimin will be too busy playing host to give you any attitude tonight
you lift your dress up as you make your way up the steps, the corners of your mouth lifting in an excited smile when you see taehyung standing by the door greeting people and collecting their $10 by… having them tuck the bills into the waistband of his boxers
“magic mike?” you laugh, taehyung’s right eye dropping in a wink before thrusts his hips towards you
“you know it, baby-“ he coos, reaching over to pinch the fabric of your dress to pull you towards him, your cheeks flushing when you stumble into his chest, “be nice to me and i’ll give you a lil lap dance in one of the private rooms-“
“taehyung, i swear to god, do not let any of those bills fall into your boxers because i’m not touching anything that touched your penis-“ jimin pops up behind taehyung dressed in a veryaccurate joker costume, his usual blonde hair dyed completely green for the look
“hi, welcome to the party, $10 an admiss-“ the sweet smile immediately drops from his face when he realises it’s you, jimin leaning back slightly, “wow, corpse bride!” jimin nods, looking you up and down, “seems fitting.” he mutters under his breath, watching as taehyung tapes the neon orange bracelet around your wrist
“nice to see you too, jimin.” you raise an eyebrow, lifting the six pack up with your other hand, “i didn’t want to come empty-handed, so i brought some drinks!”
“you brought six drinks for a house party? six sparkly waters, too… interesting.” jimin scoffs lightly, plucking the carrier from you before offering you a saccharine sweet smile, “how thoughtful of you. drinks are in the kitchen - first two shots are free, and then it’s $15 a shot after that. cocktails are $5 each, mocktails are $3- you seem like a shirley temple girl anyway- and all of it can be paid through venmo. the bartender will answer any other questions you have. bathrooms are upstairs, and the results to the costume competition will be announced at the end of the night. there are fifteen winners, and the votes are made by everyone here, so you might have a shot at winning something here.” jimin steps aside, gesturing towards the party, “have fun!”
“thank you, jimin.” you smile politely, stepping into the house and immediately rolling your eyes as soon as you turn away from him
so you weren’t able to completely avoid his dickheadedness, but hopefully that’ll be your only interaction with him tonight considering he’s probably going to be busy playing businessman all night
$15 a shot is kind of insane, though
you keep your phone pressed flush to your chest as you manoeuvre your way through the packed floor, the neon lights flashing and disco ball glimmering from above making it damn near impossible to navigate this place without bumping into backs and stepping on toes
the DJ pumps his arm up into the air as he continues spinning his fingers against the discs, the crowd going wild as the song builds up to the chorus
you can already tell that most of the people here are drunk (you can smell it, too) and you know, if you can’t beat ‘em, why not join them?
you can find jungkook later, and alcohol is definitely going to make this night a little easier to handle
“hi!” you smack your hands down on the marble countertop when you finally make your way to the bar, the vampire bartender turning to glance at you over his shoulder before tossing a cloth over his shoulder, “i want- something. shots, a drink, anything-“ your voice is already straining from the way you’re basically screaming over the music but this seems to be the proper way to communicate at a party like this
“wait, y/n?” your eyes light up when you realise that it’s none other than namjoon in charge of the drinks (and you wonder if your friendship with him will mean he gives you more drinks without charging you for it) and you let out a gasp as you lean over the counter to grasp onto his wrist
“namjoon!” you grin, “oh my god, thank god, finally someone i know at this damn party. why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here??”
“why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! i haven’t seen you at the library at all, otherwise i definitely would’ve talked to you about it- what can i get for you?”
“top-shelf tequila, baby. i saw the list of brands that jimin bought - i want the most expensive one.” you raise an eyebrow, namjoon laughing to himself before nodding
“alright, i gotcha- you need any chasers with that?”
“you got cranberry juice?”
“for you, i’ve got anything-“ namjoon smirks, holding a finger up to excuse himself
it’s five seconds later that you’re presented with not one, not two, but three shots of tequila, namjoon winking at you as he slides the cranberry juice chasers over to you as well
“you better take these before jimin realises i’ve given you a freebie- i’m about to take a break here, someone else is gonna come in a sec to replace me- you wanna dance?”
“um, of course i do!” you can’t help but squeal excitedly, “take one with me!” you push a shot glass towards him, namjoon shrugging before picking up the shot and downing it in less than two seconds
you take your second shot, eyes squinting as the burn of alcohol trickles down your throat
you immediately shudder, reaching for the cranberry juice and tossing it down the hatch
“oh, jesus-“ you hiss, shuddering against before sticking your tongue out in disgust, “god, that cranberry juice does not help whatsoever-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before namjoon has his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, giggles bubbling out of your mouth as he drags you towards the crowded dance floor to join the rest of the drunken crowd
»»————- 👻 ————-««
okay, so maybe this party didn’t turn out to be as bad as you thought it was going to be!
“that- oh my god-!” you throw your head back in laughter when namjoon pulls out the worst dance moves you’ve ever seen, your eyes pinching shut as you clutch at your stomach
you’re not sure how much time has passed (to be fair, it’s gonna be hard to tell how much time has passed when you’re at a massive house party with flashing lights and nothing but the sound of speakers booming to guide you) but you know you’ve been having a lot more fun with namjoon than you’ve had with jungkook these last few weeks) ((in fact you’re having so much fun that you almost forgot you were supposed to be heartbroken that the love of your life is with someone else, but also, that could probably be the alcohol taking over))
you know at some point you’re going to have to go over and say hi to jungkook eventually because you don’t want him to think that you’re purposely ignoring him or something — after all, it’s not his fault that he likes ji-eun and it’s not something you can pin on him and grill him for — but for now, you’re going to dance a little more, sing a little more, and-
“i gotta pee!” you gasp all of a sudden, realising that you haven’t peed once since coming here and there’s a lot of tequila sloshing around in your system
“what?” namjoon furrows his brows, reaching up to tap against his ear, “too loud, can’t hear you!”
“i gotta go pee!” you repeat yourself, pointing towards the staircase leading upstairs, “’m gonna go pee n then ‘m gonna come right back-“
“oh, pee?” namjoon nods, finally catching your words before stepping aside a little, “okay, i’ll be right here!”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
the silence of the bathroom is more than welcome as soon as you step in and flick the lights on, not at all surprised to see a pair of elegant looking wall sconces lighting up the space
you squint your eyes as you lean into the mirror, double checking that your makeup is still somewhat intact and you don’t look insane
“hm. not bad.” you mutter to yourself, turning your head from side to side before nodding, reaching down to pull the endless amounts of tulle up so you can hopefully not piss all over yourself in your tipsy state
…
…
…
you set the lid down as the toilet flushes, turning the tap on and rinsing your hands underneath the cool water
“oh, damn-“ you wince when you realise you’re washing some of the blue body paint away and you quickly turn the tap off, shaking the water off your hands before reaching for a neatly folded cotton towelette of course, because regular paper towels aren’t fancy enough for a park jimin party
you give yourself one last glance in the mirror (you could use a little more lipstick but it’s dark down there so no one’s going to be able to tell anyway) before flicking the lights off
“oops! i’m sorry-“ you apologise instinctively when you open the door and stumble right into someone, taking a few steps back before looking up to see that it’s jimin, “oh, hey…” you clear your throat quietly, standing up a little straighter before offering him a meek smile
you always feel like you’re in trouble when you’re around jimin and it’s the worst feeling in the world
like he’s the principal and you just got caught cheating on a test and he’s about to call home to tell your parents as punishment
or he’s an officer and he’s about to test you with the breathalyser and you know you’re going to fail because you definitely can’t walk in a straight line right now
“why am i not surprised that you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol?” jimin snorts, holding his hands out in case you fall over, “you better not throw up all over me, this suit is custom made-“
“i wasn’t throwing up in the bathroom, i just went in there to pee-“ you roll your eyes, placing both hands on your hips before shaking your head, “you are ridiculous, you know that? even if i was throwing up in your stupid fancy toilets, the normal thing to do would be to ask if me i was okay and if i needed some water! you- you are just so self-centred and just-“
“yeah, uh-huh-“ jimin reaches up to pat the side of your face with a smile, “by the way, if you were looking for jungkook, he’s at the VIP booth with ji-eun and the rest of us.”
“oh, perfect!” you nod, thankful for the information, “i’ll pop over and say hi in a bit, i think it’d be good to sit down too because my heels are kind of killing me and i wouldn’t be surprised if i had, like, a million blisters right now-“
“woah, i never said you were allowed to be in the booth with us.” jimin scoffs, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you from moving, “silly girl.”
your lips part slightly as you look at him, and for a moment the only thing that can be heard is the faint boom and bass of the music playing from downstairs
“are you… serious?” you ask, unsure if jimin’s joking with you or not
the bored expression on his face tells you that he is indeed, super serious
all of this just feels so incredibly cliquey and immature and stupid and you know that you’re supposed to be the bigger person because jimin clearly won’t be and you like to think that you’re ten times more emotionally mature than him but he’s making it harder and harder for you to not want to shred up his nice suit with a pair of scissors and cuss him out in front of everyone
“i’m dead serious. i’m just telling you this so that you don’t embarrass yourself when your drunk ass stumbles over and tries to join us.” jimin says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world, “enjoy the rest of the party, sweetheart.” he brushes past you to head into the washroom and-
“you’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” you snap, jimin stopping in his tracks before turning his head slightly so you can just make out the side of his face, “i think i’ve been nothing but nice to you ever since i met you, and to be honest, i can’t even think of one reason why you are constantly so fucking rude and overall just unpleasant to me. i don’t say anything when you purposely cut me out of the conversation, i don’t nag when you ignore my questions and comments but respond to everyone else’s, and most importantly, i’ve never called you out for being a jackass when i think i’ve had every chance and opportunity to. if you have a problem with me, then just say so so that we can hash this stupid weird rivalry out and just get along. your best friend and my best friend are in a relationship, and i think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we at least try to get along-“
“oh, shut the fuck up, y/n.” jimin scoffs, turning around to face you, “you know, you always act like you’re better than everyone else, that’s why i don’t like you.”
you feel your shoulders stiffen at the comment before you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, “well, i’m sorry if i’ve given you that impression but that’s not my intention, i don’t think i’m better than you, i don’t think i’m better than everyone else, and i can’t control how you feel about me but-“
“oh my god, even when you’re confronting me about being a dickhead to you you’re still being a sensible goddamn person, it’s like you’re purposely trying to piss me off-“
“okay, well, i’m not going to apologise to you for literally being myself because there’s nothing i can do about it. this is a you problem, not a me problem, so if you insist on being such an unreasonable drama queen for however long we’re going to have to spend time together, then i think the solution here is just for you to ignore me — which, you’re already doing a stellar job of, congratulations — and in return, i’ll happily ignore you.”
“i hate when people aren’t themselves. i pick up on that shit right away, and i gotta tell you, y/n, you might be the fakest person of them all.”
“what the hell are you talking about?”
“i think we both know you’re hiding something from all of us. i think you’re hiding something from yourself, too. i think you’re lying to yourself.”
there’s a pregnant pause in the conversation and for a second you want to ask him what exactly he’s implying here, but…
“alright, jimin, well-“ you turn around to head towards the stairs, “you’re fuckin’ being weird, and i’m just trying to have a good time, so i’m just gonna go back down-“
“yeah, have a wonderful rest of your evening, corpse bride-“
you resist the very strong urge to whip around and literally just strangle the man, but you remind yourself that before you had this little interaction you were actually having a very good time
“y/n!” jungkook stands at the bottom of the staircase as you make your way down, being careful not to trip over your heels, “hi!”
“jungkook! oh, there you are- i was wondering where you were-“ you loop an arm with his as you drag him through the hoards of people and towards the bar (you really need a drink and it looks like namjoon is back on the clock)
“there you are!” he laughs lightly, reaching over to tap your hand gently, “i’ve been texting you all night trying to figure out where you were but- is your phone on do not disturb or something?“
“no, it’s not! i’m sorry, i should’ve checked my phone-“ you smile sheepishly, “i’ve been dancing with namjoon this whole time but- where are you guys sitting?”
“i don’t know, some area that jimin squared off for us and a few others- ji-eun’s been asking about you, she wanted to say hi-“
“oh! oh my god, yeah, i should probably go say hi to ji-eun-“ you gesture for namjoon to get you some water and he nods, grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, :your ken costume turned out great, by the way-“ you laugh, patting jungkook’s bare chest, “it’s, uh- it’s really giving horses and the patriarchy.”
“thank you, thank you- and your costume turned out so cool too, we should watch corpse bride again when we eventually have another movie night-“
“sure! sure, for sure.” you clear your throat quietly, a moment of awkward silence settling in between the two of you
your friendship feels so… different now
like there’s this unspoken air of something in between you and jungkook like an invisible brick wall
and maybe it’s the liquid courage currently sloshing around in your body and the leftover exhilaration from finally calling jimin out on his bullshit, but now you have the urge to talk to jungkook about the weird tension
“hey, kook, listen-“ you reach up to scratch the back of your neck, “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you but i’ve definitely been putting off for a while…”
all of a sudden, a drum roll begins to boom from the speakers, the spotlights darting around the crowd before shining towards the main stage at the front of the room, whoops and cheers bouncing off the walls as jimin waltzes his way towards the microphone, a cocky smirk on his face as he raises his hand to get people to quiet down
“oh, shit, the costume competition results!!” jungkook nudges your side as the two of you turn to face the front, “we can talk about it later, i wanna see who won what- i voted myself for best ken costume, so-“
you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding and you nod, thankful for the interruption
maybe it’s a good thing you were interrupted
telling him in the middle of a party probably wasn’t the best idea, anyway
»»————- 👻 ————-««
once again, you really have to hand in to jimin
the man truly knows how to throw a party, because it seems like just about everyone is having the time of their lives — and this costume competition just made things so much more fun
there are definitely a lot of good costumes here tonight and jimin decided to change it up with twenty-five different categories to go through so he’s kind of speed running through the names
most scary costume, most realistic costume, most well-made costume: he’s got a lot of categories to get through
you keep a content smile on your face as the costume contest continues to go on, enjoying jimin’s commentary to the point that you nearly forget that the two of you hate each other and he totally just disrespected you like he’s never disrespected you before twenty minutes ago
“i wonder how that guy made it look like his head was floating… that shit was so cool.” jungkook claps his hands along with the crowd and you nod enthusiastically
“i know, right?! i’m sure he probably took it off tiktok or something - we can definitely look it up after the party and maybe we can try to recreate-“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, suddenly remembering that you guys haven’t exactly been the closest as of late so it feels weird to be offering to do something together, “um-“ you clear your throat, offering a half-hearted shrug, “yeah, we can, like, look it up later or something. maybe you and ji-eun can figure it out and let me know.”
“yeah! or- you know, you and me-“ jungkook licks over his chapped lips, “like- you know, like- old times or whatever-“
“yeah, yeah- maybe! maybe-“
“now, before i announce this special category, i have something to read because-“ jimin sucks in a breath through his teeth before cocking his head to the side, “well, let’s just say it’s some context for the best simp costume of the night.”
you can’t help but frown at the strange category — out of all the halloween costume competitions you’ve been to, “best simp” has certainly never been one that you’ve seen before
“just wanna remind everyone that this is just a costume competition, everything is based off the costume you’re wearing.” jimin adds, taking a slip of paper out of his back pocket before unfolding it with nimble fingers, “so, uh- you know. don’t take anything seriously, you know? just gotta loosen up and have fun.”
your brows dip slightly at the weird disclaimer
…
something about this doesn’t feel right.
“dear j, this is something that i’ve wanted to tell you for a while but have never had the courage to until now. throughout our entire friendship, you’ve been so kind and loyal and honest with me, and i think that you deserve the same, so this is me being honest with you.” jimin speaks into the microphone, reading the words off the slip of paper with a tone of amusement laced in his powder-soft voice, “to be honest, i’ve liked you for nearly a year now, and i’ve tried so many times to push those feelings down but it’s clear that my feelings aren’t going anywhere anytime soon…” he recites, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he puts the piece of paper down, “any thoughts on who the winner could be? or should i keep going?”
your eyelids flutter slightly at the weird change in mood of the lines and a strange feeling of familiarity of those words
“me at that one hot english professor.” a voice pipes out from the crowd and that gets a round of laughter
you laugh along politely, but you can’t help but feel as though something is off
something is off
something is very, very off
“i cherish you as a friend and the last thing i want to do is to make things weird, so… you don’t have to worry about my feelings, you know?”
oh my god.
you feel the blood immediately drain from your face when you finally realize why these lines are so familiar — it’s because they’re from the note you wrote for jungkook when you were going to tell him you liked him.
your brain begins to work overtime to figure out how the hell jimin got his hands on that note and why the hell he’d think it’d be okay to read it aloud to this massive group of people and what the hell he’s even doing right now
“what i’m trying to say is that i like you, j. i like you so much that i don’t know where to even put my feelings, and i’m sick of holding my feelings back and pretending that i’m fine with being just your friend.”
you know that jimin’s never really been a fan of you, but even this seems like too much of a dickhead move even for him
you pluck at the cuff of your sleeve anxiously, tracing your steps all the way back to the day you were going to tell jungkook about your feelings for him and the note that you’d accidentally given him that you were hoping was rotting away somewhere in a dump yard but clearly isn’t
jungkook said he’d given ji-eun the note to spit her gum out into
but what if she uncrumpled the paper and saw the note?
and what if jimin was there when she uncrumpled the note?
and then they read it together and ji-eun mentioned that you were reciting this aloud in the bathroom and-
your heart starts to race in your chest and you feel the hairs prickle on your arms as anxiety begins to bubble in your stomach, and you know that no one’s looking at you but you feel like everyone’s looking at you
you feel sick
you feel like you’re going to throw up and explode at the same time
“how could you like someone for a year and not tell ‘em?” jungkook snorts, nudging you with his elbow, “who do you think the poor sucker is who said that?”
“beats me.” you breathe out, feeling yourself shrink slightly when you notice jimin starting to scan the audience, clearly laser-focused on finding you, “i have to- um, i think i need some fresh air, it’s a little warm in here-“
“oh- okay-“ jungkook doesn’t get the chance to say much else before you’re turning around, pushing yourself through the crowd of people and trying your best to stay calm
just breathe
in and out
in and out
in and out in and out in and out oh my god HURRY UP MOVE MOVE MOVE-
you’re sure that no one will notice if you slink out through the back
and you can always text namjoon later and say that it was great spending time with him but you had a personal emergency and needed to leave the party earlier
and if jimin decides to expose you, at least you’ll be gone and out of this house and nowhere near any of these people and you don’t have to look at their stupid sympathetic faces and you don’t have to deal with-
“and the best simp of the night goes to our lovely corpse bride.”
you freeze when the spotlight lands on you, your heart going a hundred miles a minute as it starts to beat harder and faster in your chest
you only manage to turn your head weakly to glance over your right shoulder, catching jimin in your peripheral view before you’re slowly twisting around to face him, feet glued to the ground
“why don’t you come up here and accept your sash, corpse bride?” jimin smirks, plucking the satin sash from (a shocked looking) taehyung’s arms before raising it up in the air slightly, “congratulations on winning, you get two free drinks from the bar. one for you and one for… well, probably also you. get on up here and claim your coupons!��
you feel your face burning bright red in humiliation and you’re unable to tear your eyes away from jimin, your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides
this is a nightmare
this is actually a nightmare
this is traumatising in so many ways
the music seems to quiet down, a loud silence washing over the room as people look at you with expressions of confusion on their faces, everyone clearly a little thrown off at the weird category
eyes, there are just a million pairs of eyes on you and you feel like you can’t move or breathe or even do anything but stand still in shock
it’s only then that you notice the calculating look on jungkook’s face, his eyelids fluttering slightly before his eyes widen and his head snaps up and over to look at you
his lips part slightly as his eyes dart over the features of your face and you feel your entire body flushing in humiliation and shame, forcing your eyes away from your friend and back to the dickhead on the stage
“you are really something else, park jimin.” you manage to mutter out before turning on your heel and pushing your way through the crowd, people stepping aside to let you out
“aw, where are you going? you had a great costume, that’s all we were trying to say!” jimin laughs, actually laughs into the microphone before shrugging, tossing the sash over his shoulder before moving on, “alright, well, more drinks for me, i guess. the next category is best couple’s costume-“
“y/n- y/n, wait!” jungkook’s voice is the one thing you hear among the music and bustle of the crowd but he’s the last person you want to talk to right now so you pick up your pace upon spotting the front door
tears blur your vision as you finally burst out into the open air, your chin trembling as you try your best to keep your composure and not completely burst into tears
“oh my god, oh my fucking god-“ you whimper, sucking in large breaths of air
run, run, run, the only instinct you have is to run, and you reach down to yank both heels off before taking off into a sprint, the grass slightly damp beneath your bare feet
it feels very cliché to be running out of a mansion in a big poofy dress, but you can’t even take the moment to laugh at yourself because the only thing you can focus on is the fact that everything has changed completely and you’re forced to face reality a lot sooner than you would’ve liked
“y/n, come on!” you turn to glance over your shoulder to see jungkook hot on your trail, “you can’t just run away from a discussion you don’t want to have, we need to talk because we both know that things have been off since i started dating ji-eun and now-“
“okay, well, now you know, then!” your chest heaves as you come to a stop to catch your breath (you have no idea why you thought running would be a good idea, you get winded after thirty seconds on the treadmill), spinning around to face your friend who skids to a stop, tripping over his feet a little before standing up straight, “the secret’s out, jungkook. we finally solved the puzzle. i love you. i’ve loved you for so long that i don’t even remember when i started feeling this way, but all i know is i love you. you’re the first person i think of when i wake up and you’re the last person i think about before i fall asleep. i would literally drop everything i was doing if you needed me, and you’re the only person i want to spend my free time with.” all the words that you’ve been holding in for the last who knows how long finally spill out, your mouth running uncontrollably, “i love you so much that i helped you set up your date with ji-eun, i love you so much that i’m willing to run in the rain just to get you a teddy bear and a bouquet that’s not even going to me, jungkook, i-“ you blubber, reaching up to wipe at your eyes, “i don’t know what to do. there is no one else in the world i’d rather be with than you, jungkook, and i- to be honest, maybe it’s a good thing that jimin did what he did because you do deserve to know the truth and you do deserve to know how i really feel about you. if this didn’t happen i think i’d just keep it to myself for the rest of my life, but you deserve to know this. i love you, jungkook. i love you and i don’t know if i can keep being friends with you if you’re dating someone else because it’s actually killing me on the inside-“
“i love you, y/n,” jungkook breathes out, and you feel yourself letting out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding
relief
for the first time in a long time, you feel relieved, like a massive weight’s just been lifted off your shoulders
you feel your heart soar in your chest, and suddenly it’s like all the humiliation and shame has completely washed away, and suddenly you have the feeling to run back into the house to thank jimin for doing this because you know you wouldn’t have said anything if it weren’t for this slightly traumatising experience
“i love you, i do, but… not in that way.” his shoulders droop slightly and you feel your heart beginning to crackle like a delicate glass sculpture, each splinter creating more damage than the last, “i love you like you’re the first person i call when i get good news because i know you’ll be proud of me, or when i get bad news because i know you’ll be there to comfort me. i love you, like i envision you standing next to me at my wedding fixing my tie or calming me down when whoever i end up marrying is walking down the aisle. i love you like you’ll be fun auntie y/n who spoils my kids with shopping sprees at the mall and who allows them an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. i love you because you make me a better person, i love you because you encourage me to be the best version of myself i can possibly be. i love you because you remind me to be smart and kind and humble and honest and i trust you to be the one to put me in my place if i ever need it but i-“
“stop.” you feel nauseated hearing all of these words coming out of his mouth, telling you that he loves you because and he loves you because but not just i love you too. “just stop, jungkook.” you know that you can’t control someone else’s feelings but you can control your own reactions, and if jungkook would’ve kept rattling on you don’t know what you would’ve said but you know you probably would’ve lashed out at him
and it’s good that you finally got your answer, right? he loves you, but not in that way — not in the way that you love him
“y/n, please-“ jungkook whispers, reaching out for you, his eyebrows scrunching together when you take a small step back, wrapping your arms around yourself, “please, i can’t lose you as a friend, you mean so much to me-“
“i need some time.” you manage to force out, the sickening feeling of humiliation and shame and embarrassment and disappointment and frustration and anger swirling around in your stomach, “i just need some time.”
“how much time?”
“you should probably go back to the party.” you clear your throat quietly, offering your friend a weak smile, “i heard you and ji-eun were up for best couple’s costume. not saying that jimin rigged the system or anything, but-“
“y/n, how much time?” jungkook’s looking at you with sad puppy-dog eyes, and though it breaks your heart to see him like that, you need to put yourself first for once
every instinct inside of you screams to console jungkook, to reassure him and let him now that you’ll still be around but you just need some space from him and the whole situation
your eyes begin to water again as you press your lips together, shaking your head quietly, “i’m gonna go see if i can catch the bus home.”
»»————- 👻 ————-««
(- “the FUCK is wrong with you, huh?!” jungkook barks, slamming jimin up against the wall before grabbing two fistfuls of his shirt, “you sadistic fuck, who in their right mind would ever fucking do that to another human being?!”
“i’m the sadistic one?” jimin laughs, reaching up to wrap his fingers around jungkook’s wrists, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one whose been dangling yourself in front of y/n like a damn carrot to a starved rabbit-“
“what are you talking about?”
“you can’t stand here and honestly say that you didn’t have an inkling that y/n liked you more than a friend. i’ve seen the way you talk to her, i’ve seen the way you look at her, i’ve seen the way you are around her- you think i’m the evil one? at least i don’t take advantage of my friends who are CLEARLY head over heels in love with me and would obviously do anything i wanted them to do and ask them to help me set up a date that i’m taking someone else out on-“
“get a fucking life and mind your own damn business for once, you motherf-“)
🎙️ console y/n or call out jimin because what the hell was that?! (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)
#i'm so sorry this is so incredibly late#so so so so sosososososo endlessly sorry#mini series: smitten#bff!kook#bff!kook drabbles#jungkook fics#jungkook fic recs#jungkook university au#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook au#jungkook gifs#jungkook drabble recs#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook angst recs#jungkook one shots#jungkook headcanons#jungkook one shot recs#bts#bts fics#bts fic recs#bts jungkook#bts writer recs#bts author recs#bts smut#jungkook smut
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“Isn’t she a beaut?”
“A what?”
“Gods Nico, you never know what i’m talking about.” Leo sighed, turning his attention away from the chariot he was just boasting about.
“Maybe because you never make any sense,” Nico rolled his eyes anticipating the next comment about to leave Leo’s mouth.
“Or…you’re just an old abuelo,” Leo failed to hold back his smirk.
Nico glared at him, he didn’t speak spanish but he’d heard that word enough to know what it meant. “Call me that one more time fire boy and you’ll wish you died the first time.”
“Holy smokes! Someone’s feisty today,” Leo raised his hands signifying a truce. “Anyways, moving back to the important things, just look at this masterpiece!” Leo gestured back to his creation.
As Nico’s eyes move to scan over the chariot, he had to try not to be visibly impressed. It was incredible. Each wheel had hundreds of gears all lined with celestial bronze and steel. The sides and rims danced with various contraptions, every piece was delicately crafted with the upmost detail. It looked as if it was built to withstand whatever may come in its way.
“You built this in a week?” Nico asked, hoping his awe wasn’t evident in his tone.
“Yeah,” Leo shrugged. “Perfect for the race don’t you think?”
Yeah? Nico almost sang his inner praises to Leo at that moment. But he knew if he were to boast Leo’s ego like that, he wouldn’t see the end of it for days.
“It’s not bad..” Nico spoke carefully.
Leo smirked, “Finally glad you decided to be on my team?”
“I didn’t decide anything,” Nico said. “You begged me for weeks and weeks on end until I said yes, just so you would leave me alone.”
“Hm, funny. I don’t remember that happening.”
“Leo-“
“Anyways- You said you had the horses taken care of?” Leo masterfully changed the subject.
Nico nodded with a sigh.
Leo stared at him, before looking around as if he were expecting something. “Well…where are they?”
“Right, you might want to step back.” Nico suggested.
“Step back why would I-“ Leo was cut off by the ground beginning to rumble, kicking up dust and small rocks. “Right that’s why,” he hurriedly stepped backwards.
The grass shivered and after a moment of rumbling, a bone popped out from the ground. It was then followed by another and another. Soon several bones came together forming two skeletal horses. They moved similar to regular horses, if regular horses had no skin or organs.
Nico stepped back, admiring his work. In the back of his mind he imagined the future lecture he’d receive from Will. ‘What did I say about unnecessary power usage?’ Still, looking at the horses, Nico figured it was worth it.
“Woah,” Leo smiled. “That’s so much cooler than a regular horse, or even a robot one.”
“More durable too, any attack and they’ll just reassemble.”
“Dude!” Leo was now practically jumping up and down, “we are so going to win this!”
Part of Nico wanted to join Leo in the excited jumping. But the other part of him thought that would be out of character; what this ‘character’ of himself was though, he didn’t know. Nico had struggled with displaying his excitement, every time he felt that burst of joy. That buzz of happiness. It reminded him of when he was younger, first arriving at camp with that same feeling. He wondered where that little boy had gone.
A horn blew, drawing Nico out of thoughts.
“That’s Chiron,” Leo said. “Time to head to the starting line.” A devilish grin appeared on his face that made Nico a little nervous. Clearly Leo’s chariot was armed with machinery that would even make the Stoll brothers jealous.
As they stood in the chariot at the starting line, Nico rethought all his life decisions. Why had he agreed to do this race again? At the time it seemed like the only way to get Leo to leave him alone, since he had been profusely begging Nico to team up with him every day. Now Nico couldn’t decide which one was worse, and annoying Leo or a brutal chariot race. Suddenly a cold chill ran down Nicos spine, he couldn’t place it but something was wrong.
Before he could dig deeper into this feeling, Chiron blew his horn again, signaling the beginning of the race. The chariot promptly took off, immediately blasting ahead with the upmost speed. Nico had to grip the railing just to not go flying off, struggling as the winds made it hard to keep his eyes open.
The Athena chariot tried to launch a net from behind them in an attempt to catch the chariot, but it wasn’t fast enough. Instead, the net came flying back at their chariot getting caught in the wheels and sending the campers into a panic. At the same time the Stoll brothers were shooting some contraption they’d made at the Ares cabin. When resulted in both chariots veering off track and into the woods.
As they continued to speed up, Nico watched as all the other chariots got farther and farther away. He’d began to think this was going to be a lot easier than he’d initially thought.
“Works just like a dream!” Leo yelled over the winds.
Nico nodded, pointing to the floating finish line, Chiron had decided the chariots needed to not just be fast but be able to account for height too. Of course for Leo that had been an easy task. For the others, well they had to hope their pegasuses were strong
Sooner than expected they were nearing the finish line, and Nico waited for something to go wrong. He was sure the others would catch up and give them a hard time, but when he looked back the other chariots were still lagging behind.
Then a hint of smoke began to fill the air, slowly becoming stronger. Nico looked around, the chariot was shaking now. A deep rumbling that shook his whole body. More smoke started pouring out from the golden edges, polluting Nico’s lungs.
Leo looked shocked, rushing around as he tried to find the culprit of the smoke. “I don’t get what’s wrong?”
A fire sprung up and danced along the rims of the chariot, Nico stepped away, coughing as his lungs begged for clean air. He looked at Leo with panic in his eyes at the same time Leo seemed to realize that Nico wasn’t immune to smoke.
“Oh gods what do we do?” Leo called out.
Turns out Nico didn’t need to answer that question because in a blast of light the chariot exploded, sending them both flying.
The world went black.
—
Why did every creation of his blow up? That’s what Leo wondered as he plummeted from the sky. He figured he would turn into a Leo pancake when he hit the ground, splat.
The idea would’ve made him laugh if he weren’t currently falling to his death. Leo could still see the flaming chariot above him, another masterpiece blown to pieces. Maybe that would be his legacy, the demigod who destroyed everything he made.
The wind was fast as he fell, blowing through his hair and stinging his eyes. It was eerily familiar, probably because it wasn’t the first time he’d fallen from the sky. As he fell further, Leo tightly shut his eyes, expecting to hit the ground any second. But instead he felt something hit him. Well, less like hit and more like grab. When he opened his eyes, he almost jumped out of his skin.
Jason had caught him, he was now face to face with him. Startlingly close. All Leo could see were his striking icy blue eyes. He felt Jason’s arms tightly secured around his waist, and he felt the breath of relief Jason sighed when he realized Leo was safely in one piece.
Why Leo obsessed over each of these small incriminate details, he would never say.
“Thanks superman,” Leo grinned nervously. He hoped the blush across his face wasn’t as noticeable as it felt.
Jason glared at him as they began to descend to the ground. “Next time i’ll let you fall.”
Leo was about to make another comment when his heart dropped, “Nico.”
Jason’s eyes widened as he looked up at the chariot. They seemed to flicker across the sky, as he tried to locate the other chariot rider. “Oh gods.”
Splash.
Just in time Leo turned to see Nico plunge into the lake, Jason had been too far to reach him seeing as they’d somehow been blasted in two different directions.
Leo’s shirt was still smoking from the explosion and his bones felt like jelly, but it didn’t stop him from rushing to the lake as soon as they touched the ground.
Will had gotten there first, he’d always managed to get there first. He began dragging Nico from the water, a crowd of panicked demigods forming around them.
As soon as Nico was pulled to shore Leo stumbled his way over, pushing through the crowd. “Is he okay? Is he breathing? Oh gods this is all my fault.” He stuttered and tripped over his words as the guilt built up inside his stomach like rocks. He shouldn’t have made Nico join this stupid race, he should’ve known it would go wrong. Everything he did always went wrong.
“Leo, don’t say that.” Jason stepped forward putting a hand on Leo’s shoulder.
Leo wanted to believe him but the guilt was overpowering it consumed his mind.
He silently watched as Will hummed placing his hand on Nico’s chest. Leo didn’t know what he’d do if Nico didn’t wake up, but luckily he did. Shooting up, coughing and spluttering, Leo recognized the look of relief that flashed across Wills face.
Jason’s hand gripped Leo’s shoulder tighter as he remembered to breathe. Suddenly his adrenaline rush crashed and so did he. His knees went weak and he would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him, again.
“You okay?” Jason asked softly. A warm tone that felt delicate and strange, yet it reassured Leo every time he heard it.
Leo nodded, looking back at Nico who was smothered in a hug from Will. He seemed to be repeatedly telling Will he was okay, despite him being dripping wet with several burnt holes in his shirt.
Nicos seemed to search the crowd until he locked eyes with Leo, he figured Nico would be incredibly pissed off at him. But he wasn’t, his eyes flashed a look of concern before he mouthed you okay?
Leo nodded as convincingly as he could, overly aware of Jason’s warm presence behind him, being the only thing holding him up.
The crowd was dispersing as Will managed to pull Nico to his feet, draping his arm across his shoulders. “Both of you,” he looked towards Leo, “infirmary. Now.”
On the way, Jason did most of the walking, as Leo’s new jelly legs hadn’t regained their sense of feeling yet. His whole body was aching by the time they’d reached the infirmary. Turns out, being exploded hurts. Shouldn’t have been surprising as he’d been exploded before.
As Leo sat on the infirmary bed his mind was spinning. He thought through every piece of bronze, every gear, wondering what had gone wrong. He had double, scratch that, triple checked to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Yet something still went wrong, seemingly out of nowhere. He replayed when the fire broke out, despite his frantic waving and patting down of the fire it didn’t extinguish. The realization hit him like a semi truck.
“Greek fire,” he said out of nowhere while Jason and Will rushed around; checking that he and Nico weren’t severely injured.
“What?” Jason said, his hand freezing in place as he picked up a bandage.
Nico inhaled sharply, looking at Leo as if he immediately understood. After hanging out for so long Nico had learned how to understand whatever thought process Leo was on, “That’s what it was, that’s why it kept burning. Why was it in the chariot?”
“I don’t know,” Leo sighed. He racked his brain for any contraptions that would lead to the emergence of greek fire. But he was sure that it wasn’t built into his chariot at all. “I never used greek fire, I don’t get how it would just erupt like that…unless…”
Jason’s eyes widened, “Do you think someone put it there on purpose?”
Leo met his eyes, he knew an accusation like this was dangerous. It meant that someone intentionally sabotaged their chariot, in a way that could only be intended to kill.
“But why would someone try to hurt you with fire?” Jason asked.
Leo felt his heartbeat stick in his throat, “Maybe I wasn’t the one they were intending to harm.”
He looked over at Nico whose face was now unreadable.
“You’re saying someone tried to kill Nico?” Will asked, his tone laced with anger.
“That or they meant to injure him severely, I guess they didn’t account for the explosion preventions I had in place.” Leo replied.
“Explosion preventions?” Jason asked, his eyebrow tilting up in the way it always did when he was confused.
“Yeah, I figured with my track record i’d add an extra layer of protection. Something that would lessen the impact of a possible explosion. That’s why we went flying away and not…well everywhere.”
“First of all, that’s impressive.” Jason spoke, “Secondly, who would intentionally try to hurt Nico?”
No one answered. None of them could fathom the idea that someone in camp would deliberately do something like this. Leo grasped at straws to find meaning, to find an excuse as to why this happened. But there was nothing. He knew Nico had never done any harm to cause this, he’d been nothing but a hero. He thought that everyone knew that, that everyone should know that. So why did this happen?
“We should talk to Chiron,” Jason said, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room.
—
Will was fuming. Almost literally. He was sure if he’d been Leo his whole body would be aflame. The idea that someone had targeted Nico in such a way, was impossible for him to swallow. His anger felt hot, it bubbled up like a volcano inside of him. He could feel it ready to erupt any second as he dug his nails into his palm.
Then a light touch pulled him from his inner turmoil. A cold hand had slipped its way between his fingers, releasing the tension. Will looked over at Nico and felt a wave of guilt, he hadn’t thought about how Nico must be feeling now.
Years ago Will had told Nico that he was welcome at camp, that no one had pushed him away. Now someone had tried to kill him.
His guilt was followed by fear. Will tightly squeezed Nico’s hand, pouring every ounce of assurance into the touch and praying in his mind that this situation wouldn’t influence Nico to run away again. Just the thought of Nico suddenly disappearing like he had years ago made his heart feel like it was being suffocated slowly. He had to remind himself Nico was okay, he was right by his side.
Explaining what had happened to Chiron was the easy part, it was Dionysus who was difficult.
“We must find this traitor at once!” Mr D. stood up slamming the table, vines began to crawl up from the floor and around the table legs.
Will had never seen him so mad. Of course, if it were anyone else he’d probably just shrug it off. But this was Nico. So Mrs D. was reasonably pissed.
“We have to handle this carefully,” Chiron said; his eyes were filled with a deep sense of sadness and disappointment. He too couldn’t imagine why someone had done this.
“Carefully?” Mr. D asked, his eyes glowed with a dangerous hue of purple. “I say we round everybody up and unrelentlessly interrogate them until the rat comes out.”
“We cannot tortue innocent campers in hopes of finding the culprit,” Chiron calmly explained.
“We can’t. I can.”
“Then you would be punished by several angry gods.”
Mr D. had no response this time, sighing as he sat back down. The vines following suite as they shrank back into the floorboards.
“I don’t understand who would’ve done this, and why now?” Jason said, his eyes seemed to be clouded in worries.
“Leo, is there anyway this could’ve been a prank taken too far?” Chiron asked, there was a sort of desperation in his eyes.
“I really wish it was, but there’s no way they couldn’t of known about the precautions. I added the explosion barrier last second. The greek fire must’ve been somewhere near the engine, whoever put it there wanted the chariot to catch fire and explode. Midair,” Leos voice was somber, he leaned listlessly on his elbows which set on the table.
Jason watched Leo carefully, his face seemed to analyze Leo’s every movement, every word. Will recognized his attentiveness.
Chiron sighed, “We will investigate this. Perhaps there is someone, something, whispering things to the demigods again.”
“We can talk to Clovis,” Will added. “If it’s something to do with dreams or visions he might be able to help.”
Chiron nodded, “Just be careful. I don’t know how whoever did this will react if they catch on that we are suspicious.”
Will nodded, he couldn’t help but notice how silent Nico had been. He seemed to be lost in thought. Will wish he could crawl into his brain and disintegrate all the negative thoughts.
It appeared Mr D. was also concerned, his face flashed with worry as he looked over at Nico.
“We’ll talk to Clovis tomorrow,” Will made the executive decision. “You two need rest.”
Jason agreed, not allowing Leo to protest by quickly grabbing him and dragging him out the door way. “Let’s go hotshot.”
It was dark, a cold breeze blowing through camp as Will and Nico walked; a blanket of silence lay between them. Nico seemed to be trapped inside his mind again, his eyes dancing with unspoken worries.
“You okay?” Will asked as softly as possible, reaching out to touch Nico’s shoulder.
Nico nodded, “I guess.”
Will frowned, “You guess?” He expected Nico to lie and hit him with a ‘I’m fine’ like he normally did.
“I’m not sure what to think to be honest.” Nico replied, he began chewing on his bottom lip; a nervous habit Will had taken note of several times.
“Yeah...” Wills voice was quiet, his racked his mind for the perfect thing to say, but came back with nothing.
The two of them kept walking as Nico slightly leaned into Wills touch, despite his uncertainty he still sought comfort.
“I’ll stay in your cabin tonight,” Will paused, “to protect you.”
Nico face spread into a smile, a smile that punched Will right in his stomach. He felt a sense of relief to see him smile, “Yeah i’m sure that’s the reason.”
“What?” Will raised his hands in false defense, “It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.”
“Uh huh, super convincing.” Nico’s voice was coated with sarcasm, which was a stark contrast to the smile that danced across his face.
“It’s an excuse that would hold up in court, you know i’m not a lawyer but I know these things-“
Nico cut him off by grabbing his hand, “Come on sunshine.” He tugged Will lightly towards his cabin, it was obvious he didn’t want to be alone. That’s not to say Will didn’t want to stay with him on his own accord, obviously it was a little bit for himself. But mostly for Nico, mostly.
—
“Gods Leo use your legs.”
“I can’t they feel like jello, my arms too, and my-my everything!” Leo whined as he let himself be dragged along by Jason.
“You sure you didn’t hit your head in the explosion too?” Jason feigned annoyance. He was intentionally bantering with Leo, trying to boost the mood. Anything that could distract him from the fact of a potential murderer in camp was good, and Leo was really good at distracting.
“I think the explosion hit everything,” Leo stumbled. Jason quickly caught him, snaking his hand around Leo’s waist. He hoped Leo couldn’t hear his heartbeat which was pounding so loudly in his ears.
“You’re clearly incapable of walking,” Jason sighed. He figured he was getting quite good at acting as he almost believed his own false annoyance. “Just let me carry you or at this rate we’re going to be eaten by harpy’s.”
Leo smirked, “If you insist.”
Leo was a light weight against Jason’s back as he locked his arms around Leo’s legs; and when Jason walked, Leo’s arms dangled from around his shoulders. Then with a sigh he rested his chin on the top of Jason’s head.
“Dang the weather is pretty nice up here,” Leo said, his hands absently drumming against Jason’s shirt.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jason replied, earning a small thump against his chest.
Leo paused as he noticed where Jason was headed, “Correct me if i’m wrong, but this does not look like the way to my cabin.”
“Well..” Jason almost panicked looking for any excuse, “I figure you need to be watched over. You know, with your jello legs and brain.”
“Aww,” Leo teased, “are you scared?”
Jason tried to bite back a smile when his lame excuse succeeded. “Yes, terrified.”
“Don’t worry Jace, I’ll protect you from the big bad scary Zeus statue.” Leo giggled as he tightened his arms around Jason.
Jason smiled, he didn’t say the real reason he’d wanted Leo to stay with him. He didn’t say it was because he worried about his safety, that he didn’t want him beating himself up with guilt. Or that he’d seen Will sneak into the Hades cabin and felt a sense of envy.
Jason contentedly carried Leo on his back into the cabin; and as they entered Leo seemed to shrink against Jason whispering, “He’s looking at me,” before bursting into giggles.
“Now you know how I feel every night,” Jason complained. He walked over to his bed, where he’d recently gotten a divider; placing it so that his view of the statue was obscured. When he reached the bed he turned and promptly dropped Leo onto his bed.
“Ouch,” Leo said, sprawling out on the bed with his eyes closed and tongue stuck out as if he were emulating roadkill.
“Looks like jello boy died, what a shame.”
Leo opened one of his eyes and when he saw Jason was still staring at him he closed it again; a grin began spreading across his face, though he’d tried to hold back.
“You leave me no choice,” Jason rubbed his hands together, creating a harmless amount of static electricity. “Clear!” He called out thrusting his hands towards Leo.
A small shock was produced and Leo sprung up falling onto the floor with a yelp, pieces of his curly hair stuck up in the static.
Jason burst into laughter, almost doubling over as his whole body shook.
“What the hades man,” Leo looked up at him with wide eyes.
“I resurrected you,” Jason said between giggles. He’d laughed so hard his eyes began to water.
Leo stood up, patting down his hair. “Okay, i’ve been resurrected before and it did not feel like that.”
Jason shrugged, “What can I say? I’m too good.”
Leo shoved him lightly, pretending to be mad although he was still smiling. “Whatever, because of that you’re sharing the bed.”
“Fine.” Jason pretended it was an inconvenience. In reality he was desperate to be near Leo, to be by his side in any way possible. As close as possible. Leo emanated this warmth in a way Jason had become addicted to. It was a warmth that filled his bones and soul completely and fully.
So when Leo curled up next to him, it took all of Jason’s willpower not to wrap his arms around him and bask in the warmth. Just being beside him had to be enough, yet still he yearned for the full closeness.
Soon he heard the soft breathing from Leo next to him, the moonlight from the window filtering in and sparkling my across his face. His eyelashes look so delicate in the light and the splash of freckles across his face started to resemble a constellation. Jason almost hoped that the moment would last forever; that tomorrow wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to face the harsh truth that someone in camp had tried to hurt his friends. He didn’t want to leave Leo’s side. Not again. The fear of losing him was always so strong because he’d lost him before, they’d both lost each other. Now they were together again and Jason prayed that they could stay that way.
But he doubted anyone was listening to that prayer.
(Part Two)
#nico di angelo#heroes of olympus#nico pjo#pjo hoo#pjo series#solangelo#percy jackson#valgrace#leo valdez#leo pjo#jason grace#jason pjo#pjo hoo toa#will solace#will pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#tsats#pjo hoo toa tsats#trials of apollo#nico di angelo and will solace#my fic#fic#because we were robbed of valgrace and solangelo interactions#jason is alive because i said so#he ressurected or something#leo’s in love with jason#can you tell i was trying to be funny while writing in leo’s pov?#should i do a part two?
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Silly lil brainrot thats stuck in my head cause everyone's been talking about sizeshifters lately (AND I AM HERE FOR IT)
Just image a character looking for a roommate to help split rent, but their spare room is stupidly small. They put an add out, and get a few people coming by but no one wants that cramped of a bedroom, no matter how cheap they make it-
Until someone does.
They're frankly surprised- they figured at this point it was a lost cause but the person seems weirdly delighted??
Odd.
They are overjoyed at the price too- and character A can understand their joy- given the size of the room they were getting desperate price wise.
A week goes by and everything seems fairly normal. They put a lock on their door, but that seemed pretty standard when you're moving in with a stranger. They're clean, friendly, and pretty fun to be around- just a little forgetful, but who isn't?
By the second week though, Character A is noticing some weirdness. B doesn't seem to eat... They never see them cooking, theres nothing in the fridge, and they don't seem to go out for food either.
When A brings it up B brushes it off, saying they have a minifridge in their room and a lil personal stove. It seems like a good enough excuse until A realizes they've never seem them do dishes. Ever.
By the third week A is convinced theres something weird about B. They have to do some repairs on B's room and when they go in they're just in shock. It looks even smaller than before- B having put bookshelves along almost every wall- but theres no books in the shelves. Its all...
Miniatures?
Fantastically intricate rooms, ranging from something out of a fantasy castle, to influencer mansion type rooms. The longer they look, the weirder it seems though. The rooms are all connected- slides, bridges, ladders... Did they have a pet mouse or something??
Spying one room with a hamster wheel, A is convinced that B has the most spoiled pet in the world. Although... they never mentioned having a pet. Not that it was an issue, but A made it pretty clear that they should tell them if the have a pet in case of a fire or any type of emergency.
And then A sees it- or well, more accurately, doesn't see it.
They ... they dont have a bed??
Sufficiently weirded out but trying their best not to judge, A starts on whatever repairs they have to make, only to realize the project is not going to be a one and done job.
They let B know they'll have to go back into their room later this week and they work out a date and time-B assures them they'll be out of the house and will leave the door unlocked.
The day rolls around and when A goes to start the repairs they grimace. B forgot to leave their door unlocked. They really didn't have time for this. They give B a call, but it goes straight to voicemail.
With a sigh, they grab a credit card. It looked like a cheap lock anyways. Slipping the card between the door and frame they manage to bypass the lock with ease. It really was a cheap thing...
As they go to start the repairs, a little bit of movement catches their eye.
A small lump curled up under the covers of a massively luxurious bed.
Awe! So they did have a mouse!
and it slept under the covers?? Adorable.
It had to be pretty well trained if it didn't have any sort of actual cage? Maybe it was a rat? They could be pretty smart... though it was small.
Curiosity peaked, A pinches the tiny covers in their hand- not without noticing how incredibly soft and high quality they are- pulling the covers back.
A small hand rips the cover back, and they here a muffled
"Five more minutes..."
Eyes wide, they freeze, the world around them feeling frozen in this bizarre moment. A second passes. Then another.
The tiny figure in the bed bolts upright, head turning to A.
Their eyes lock in the most awkward dual realization.
"What are you doing-"
A interrupts them, holding up a tool.
"Repairs were today."
B nods, eyes wide.
"I uh... I forgot about that."
_____________________
I JUST THINK IF I WERE ABLE TO SHIFT SIZES I WOULD BE LIVING THE MOST LUXURIOUS LIFE
"BuT eNtO, DoNt YoU wAnT tO bE bIg?"
Yes obviously, but in this economy?? In the privacy of my own home I'll subsist for month off of 10$ in groceries thank you very much.
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Detco movies rated based on how much shit gets exploded / destroyed
The Time-Bombed Skyscraper - the whole premise is about blowing up stuff, but it's shame no trains got got, 7/10
The Fourteenth Target - it's just an underwater restaurant that is pretty out of the way from anything else and we have no prior attachment to. bonus for the helicopter crash, 5/10
The Last Wizard of the Century - an entire castle does get burned down, but it's no explosion, 6/10
Captured in Her Eyes - just some regular old murder, 0/10
Countdown to Heaven - truly a 9/11 movie. point detracted for leaving the second tower intact, 8/10
The Phantom of Baker Street - the entire thing takes place in VR, so it shouldn't even count, but no one even gets their brain blown up :( 0/10
Crossroad in the Ancient Capital - somehow nothing gets bombed or destroyed? Conan tries a little arson but is unsuccessful, -1/10
Magician of the Silver Sky - a plane gets somewhat mistreated, 2/10
Strategy Above the Depths - a whole damn ship sinks, it's all very dramatic, 9/10
The Private Eyes' Requiem - despite the constant threat of exploding people, barely anything gets exploded. half a point for Kid using a gun on some windows, 1.5/10
Jolly Roger in the Deep Azure - i guess they do find that ancient pirate ship and it immediately falls apart, 5/10
Full Score of Fear - plenty of shit gets blown up including a concert hall while no one inside realizes anything's wrong. you'd think they'd have some fire warning system in place, 10/10
The Raven Chaser - sadly no explosions, but the tower gets shot at hard, and the helicopter does not end up fine, tho no actual crash on screen, 5/10
The Lost Ship in the Sky - only a research facility we don't care about gets exploded in the opening, and that airship barely gets scratched up, 4/10
Quarter of Silence - we have a train exploding out of a tunnel, a dam blown to smithereens, and an avalanche, what more could you want, 10/10
The Eleventh Striker - who can say no to some exploding stadiums, great movie for people who hate football, 8/10
Private Eye in the Distant Sea - just a rando ship at the beginning, who cares, 1/10
Dimensional Sniper - some police cars and incredibly light bombing of the tower, eh, 3/10
Sunflowers of Inferno - a cool museum gets absolutely demolished, the burning fake sunflowers are a lovely image, plus we got some proper plane mistreatment, 10/10
The Darkest Nightmare - both an explosive car crash at the beginning and a ferris wheel gets extremely destroyed, 9/10
The Crimson Love Letter - lots of explosions, and in beautiful scenery too, 10/10
Zero the Enforcer - destroying shit with a satellite is pretty imaginative, but there was not as much destruction as i hoped, 7/10
The Fist of Blue Sapphire - they're surfing on some iconic Singaporean landmarks, meanwhile an oil ship freely wrecks shit, 11/10
The Scarlet Bullet - i fully admit i have no idea what Masumi and Conan were trying to do, both the train and station ended up looking pretty rough. 10/10
The Bride of Halloween - for a movie about bombs not all that much significant shit gets destroyed, but they do go out in style at least. bonus points for covering Shibuya in goo, 9/10
#warning: not spoiler free#no movie 26 bc i have not seen it yet 😭😭💀#anyway. i put way too much effort into this tbh#detective conan#kostek original#kostek reviews
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Bittersweet apples 🍏
Sweet apple acres was quiet, an odd scene for that piece of land as it was filled to the brim with juicy red fruits. Perfect for the taking, and yet… left untouched.
Each tree stood strong, bearing apples in different sizes and slightly different shapes. At this point, Apple Jack and Big Mac would’ve been hard at work, bucking those ripe fruits out of their leafy beds and into hoof crafted baskets.
But that quiet noon, in that vibrant green orchard, held a great unease.
The clouds were shifting in panic despite their schedule, likely the Pegasus’ doing, but Apple Jack barely paid mind to the unusual weather.
Not with the poorly hidden sobs from her younger sister filling her sensitive ears.
…And that viscous sensation that was drying and crusting on the fur of her back legs…
Apple Jack trailed behind a covered wagon that was being pulled by her older brother, Big Mac, with little Apple Bloom inside.
Despite the big wagon, it was light with very little inside.
Apple Bloom, some packages of food and tanks of water were jostled around slightly due to the uneven, gravelly road the three ponies were taking. Other than that (minus the sobbing), it was quiet.
None of them wished to speak, not after the tragedy that was forcefully bestowed on the recently. The metaphorical wounds were still fresh, as fresh as the crimson that tainted Apple Jack.
Her deep emerald eyes were locked onto the back of the Wagon, empty and void. Her throat tightened so bitterly, she knew the moment she spoke, her words would come out strained and painful.
So she let her mind get lost in the numbness inside of her, leaving her with nothing to think of.
A blank slate.
The sniffles halted momentarily, but still present before a weak voice called out from the wagon.
“…Big Mac… where are we goin’?”
Big Mac didn’t seem to hear the small voice behind him over his own thoughts and hoof beats against the dirt, so Apple Jack sucked up her pain and desire to not speak.
“Evacuatin’.” Was all Apple Jack said.
She heard a little hoof scrap against the wagon’s floor, likely her sister moving to get up, before she saw the reddened misty eyes peek through the wagon covering.
“But… why? A-and where? … Because you killed Granny?” Her voice, although mournful and tired, held animosity and anger.
“APPLE BLOOM!” Apple Jack yelled in disbelief and fury.
“How DARE-“ but before she could finish her sentence, Big Mac’s booming voice quickly dashed out fire was starting between the two sisters.
“ENOUGH OUT OF BOTH OF YOU.”
A quiet hush fell over all of them, only the gravel beneath their wheels and hooves acting as background noise.
The silence from him afterward was as deafening as his sudden outburst. Apple Jack and Apple Bloom knew that their usual mute brother only spoke a complete sentence when he felt he needed to or if he was incredibly upset.
It wasn’t too long before the red pony grunted out another response to the two.
“Apple Jack did what she did to save you. Granny was sick-“
“She wasn’t hurtin’ nopony, Big Mac-“ Apple Bloom protested but was interrupted by her older brother.
“She. Was. Ill. Apple Bloom. Of course she wasn’t trying to hurt nopony, but her sickness would have killed you too.” He said gruffly.
“But…” Apple Bloom started before giving up silently.
“Apple Jack.”
The said pony stared into the wagon, trying to stare into the back of her brother’s head.
“She’s still a filly. She don’t understand what is happenin’. She just watched our granny die.”
“Big Mac…”
“Apple Bloom needs to know what’s goin’ on, you can’t just kill somepony and not elaborate.”
Big Mac paused a moment before finishing his lecture.
“Later when we find a place to settle, you and I will have a talk. Alone.”
For the first time in hours, a gentle gust of wind rustled the apple trees. The three of them were silent once more.
Apple Jack opened and closed her mouth… before repeating the process three more times.
What more would there be to discuss? What could Apple Jack say to any of this?
The tragedy of having to forcefully take her own mother figure’s life was a hard blow to her already, but the way her little sister spoke to her as though she was some rabid animal for doing so…
What was there to say to that?
To be continued….
#mlp#pinkies senses#apple jack#big mac#apple bloom#mlp infection au#mlp fanfic#mlp infected au#mlp creepypasta
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 - 2/2
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨
pairing: dark!ex-boss!steve rogers x fem!reader
WORDCOUNT: 4.6k warnings: dubious consent ! - sexually naive reader, rough p in v, oral sex [m + f receiving] - height difference [6'6 steve, 5'3 reader] -, misogyny, sexism: breeding kinks -daddy kink, captain kink. choking, pregnant!reader: spanking, gaslighting- especially shein at the end LOL - emotional abuse, assimilation, kidnapping slight mention - steve gets his happy ending
PSA: YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS CONTENT IS CONSIDERED MATURE. 18+ ! If any of these topics trigger you, please do not indulge in this content! This is a DARK!FIC, and is intended to come across as such. Minors, please dni - this content is 18+ and is under my #WOMNSFW tag.
summary: Once Captain America's assistant, you're now the up-coming mother of his child. After Steve's jealousy finally becomes out of hand, you snap at him, only to realise that's the very last thing you should do to a Super Soldier. He decides that your defiance lights a match to spark the fire of you being a brilliant mother.
-
It’s not like Steve to get this riled up. It’s just difficult watching you discuss initiative with a rookie rather than paying attention to him. He watches as your small hand falls down to brush over your stomach, wondering if your fingers splay over it as a means to reassure yourself that the baby growing inside of you is okay.
Jealousy isn’t a good look on Steve. He’s not a complete airhead - he knows dames usually don’t like it when a man gets stupidly possessive and starts trying to control them, but he just can’t help it. You’re his - literally. Not only are you literally his personal assistant, but you’re also his fiancé and the mother of his child.
“Sweetheart, don’t you think it’s time we get home now?” His voice booms across the training room, his thick hands coming up to massage your shoulders softly. “This much standing can’t be too good for the baby.”
You're terrible at analysis, Steve realizes. You hadn't even noticed he had approached you - evident by how his touch makes you flinch. He feels your nerves jolt beneath him, but to the regular human eye, nothing appears wrong. Steve admits that you’ve grown incredibly wary of his touch recently, only engaging in displays of affection when around other people. In the comfort of your shared home, though, it’s like when he touches you, your body slithers with disgust.
“I am growing slightly tired.” You throw an apologetic smile over at the rookie you were speaking to, all whilst leaning into Steve's touch willingly. He doesn’t miss the prickles of goosebumps that ripple up your skin, the fear which prickles at the back of your neck. He frowns - has his touch ever been unloving, unkind? “I think it’s best I go home and rest up."
Your mutter a few apologies, which forces an eye roll from Steve. Why are you apologizing to people who aren't even worth your time? Frustrated, he begins to steer you out of the compound quickly, irritated as you shuffle away from his touch as though his mere skin is poison.
The drive back to your shared home is silent. Steve is seething as he drives, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are beginning to turn white. He’s tried to be patient and understanding - he really has. But he’s blessed you and he doesn’t understand why you’re so hell-bent on rejecting him and then repenting as though he's a curse. You’re throwing tantrums similarly to what a toddler would, sitting next to him in silence and stewing in unspoken anger, and Steve can’t help but feel slightly hurt by your actions.
Is he not good enough for you? Is that it? Or have you grown tired of him? He has been more than kind, allowing you to still attend work despite the fact you’re growing his child. He has bent and adapted so you do not break, shrugging away every single urge to force tradition upon you.
Perhaps what you need is a sense of tradition. Maybe that will stop the fiery defiance you display, both in public and at home.
“We’re home.” Steve’s voice booms loudly in the car, and you stir from your position, your eyes fluttering open at him.
“Good. I’m tired,” you sigh heavily, forcing yourself out of the car quickly before Steve could come around and open your door for you. “Today’s been exhausting.”
“How so?” Steve almost sneers, grabbing your bag from the car and slamming the driver’s side door shut loudly. “All you do all day is make appointments for me and flirt with other men. It can’t be that difficult.”
You groan, waiting for Steve to unlock the front door before following him into your home. “I don’t flirt with other men, Steve. Stop being so delusional."
You drawl his name out with such annoyance it makes Steve’s jaw twitch. “Really? So you weren't all over that rookie earlier today?” He turns away in annoyance, flicking the light to the living area on. The house keys sway in his fingers, and he chuckles dryly, “give me a break, sweetheart. You were practically begging him to fuck you.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing exasperatedly. “So what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?" Your hands fall to your stomach, holding it protectively whilst staring at him with furrowed brows.
Holding something he made.
He stills. “Excuse me?”
The calmness in Steve’s tone makes your blood run cold. You try to ignore how he stops still in the archway of the living area; how his large frame tenses and his fists clench. You suddenly feel as though all the air has been sucked out of the room, and you stumble out (in one last act of pitiful defiance), “so what if I was begging him to fuck me, Steve?“
The drawl of his name is what finally makes him snap. It’s like he sees red - like he can’t believe how you’re actually treating him, despite everything that he’s done for you. Steve’s palm is quickly splayed across your throat, and he growls, sounding similar to that of a wild animal as he begins to try and force you to your knees.
It's not like you don't go down without a fight. You try to resist, somewhat, anyway, but you can’t, because he is so, so much stronger than you are and it’s fucking scary. His hands are so strong that they diminish any force of fight you had within you, as trying to resist him makes you actually feel like your shoulders are going to snap. You whimper pathetically as you kneel before him, staring up at his pupils, which are blown and blackened.
You know better than to irritate him by now, so why do you keep doing it?
“You’re mine,” Steve snaps, his blue eyes icy as he pulls his zipper down. The sharp noise makes you flinch beneath him, trying to shuffle away, but the grip he has on the nape of your neck is tight and holds you in place. “You must be fucking crazy if you think I’d ever let another man touch you. If you think I’ll ever let another man look at you again without consequence.”
His fingers grab at your jaw, forcing your mouth open and you cry out. Steve is visibly angry - furious is perhaps a better word, given the fact he’s practically shaking as grips your face whilst also aggressively pulling his thick, hard cock out of his boxers. “You’re going to have to learn how to put that mouth of yours to better use, doll. It's wasted on those shitty opinions of yours, anyway."
Hands roughly grabbing at your hair, pulling your face towards his cock, you have not much choice but to take him in your mouth. It’s intrusive - terribly so, and Steve manhandles you so roughly it makes your tears prick with tears, but it shamefully sends a throbbing to your pussy. You clench your legs together as you take him, choking as he slides in and out of your mouth until you’re a blubbering mess below him, spit and tears painting your cheeks as he fucks your throat relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out, pulling so hard at your hair your head pulses. Steve’s hips stutter as you choke around him, your eyes doe-like and wide, covered in wet mascara. “Who the fuck do you belong to?”
“Y-you, Steve,” you choke out as he pulls out of your mouth with an uncomfortable POP!, relishing in the breaths he’s allowing you. “I belong to you.”
Steve's cock is so big it's actually painful. Your throat constricts around his cock as he forces your head down again, grumbling out, “I bet that rookie couldn’t treat you like this. I bet he couldn’t fuck you full of his babies like I have, doll.”
You whine beneath him as he continues to use your throat. Steve is driven entirely by his own pleasure, tiring quickly of your pathetic crying around his cock. With angry thrusts of his hips, Steve watched you gag around him, his cock twitching in your throat as you take all of him in; every inch, and his length is actually somewhat visible in your neck. And it’s driving him crazy- so crazy that he can’t hold back anymore, his rough hands grasping at your hair as he finishes, painting your tongue with his cum.
Steve watches as you choke and thrash against him in an attempt to get away, because his cock and his cum is stuffing your mouth in ways it’s never been stuffed before. It’s suffocating you, and blackness pricks at the corner of your vision - you’re just about to pass out before you Steve mercifully pulls his cock out of your mouth with a disgusting squelch and delivers you a hard slap.
The stinging from his hand sends a sheepish insatiable throbbing to your core that you know will never be satisfied. The tingle which tickles your core makes you clench your thighs, knowing no matter how hard you repent, tonight he will not forgive you.
“This throat is mine to use,” he seethes, his tip still leaking as he presses his cock against your cheek, satisfied with the discomfort that flutters throughout your features. “Say it.”
“This throat is yours to use,” your bottom lip quivers, your eyes spilling tears, some of which fall on Steve’s cock. And it’s shameful how wet you are - how the heat between your legs has grown uncomfortable and how you’re certain your pussy is slick with arousal because somehow it’s all you can focus on. You melt into a weeping puddle, your hands tiny compared to Steve’s cock, desperately trying to push his length away during your tantrum.
It doesn’t work. If anything, it makes him much so much harder - his cock throbs against the skin of your face, and you sniffle as he speaks. “Good girl,” Steve’s praises, his fingers curling in your hair, watching as your eyebrows contort in pain as he tugs gentler than you deserve. “Look at your pretty little face. Covered all over with cum and tears.” He coos, smoothing your hair down gently, a soft pang of love throbbing within his heart.
Your face flushes red, and you blink up, your wet, long lashes batting up at him ridiculously. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, your throat incredibly sore from his invasion, your hands desperately clasping at his thighs, and he watches you in amusement, unable to bite back the excitement as you brush your lips over his length meekly. “Please forgive me, Steve, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know if I can, honey,” he tells you, his big hands making gentle, loving motions in your hair. It’s a sharp contrast to the aggressiveness of his touch moments beforehand, but you bask in it nonetheless. “You were flirting with that rookie, baby, you said you wanted to fuck him. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“I didn’t say I wanted to fuck him!” you whine, and Steve shakes his head.
“That’s what I heard, baby.”
You sniffle, and Steve shakes his head. Why do you have to lie to him? He doesn’t like making you upset - he certainly doesn’t like hurting you. His pretty girl, sitting in front of him with raw, red knees and an even rawer throat, whose ass is yet to be spanked until the pain renders you unable to move. He hates it, and he wishes this pain on nobody, especially not his little girl. Steve is meant to protect you, not hurt you. He’s your saviour, the one man in your life you can rely on and trust with all of your secrets, and yet you lie to him, again and again and again.
Steve hates making you upset, but he loves watching you cry. Conflict tugs at him from the inside, his thumb making gentle strokes in your hair as you speak to him. “I’m sorry, I really am,” you finally say, sinking beneath him obediently. “I didn’t mean any of it. It’s - its probably just the hormones.”
Steve hums in agreement. “It probably is, doll, but just in case it isn’t…I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.” He sucks in a breath, muttering, “let’s see how sorry you really are, doll.”
It takes everything in Steve not to finish all over again when he pulls you atop of him and you gasp in shock, his big hands forcing your hips down, and before you’re even aware of it, your walls are sheathed around his cock. Tight - so tight, and wet, too: ridiculously so. Shameful squelching sounds flood the living room as Steve fucks up into you with long, even thrusts.
The mewls that escape your throat as your small fingers dig into Steve's frame makes him want to impregnate you al over again. If he could, he would - your pussy is addicting, gripping him just right. You’re like Goldilocks. Your walls are so tight that you're practically milking his cock for his cum -, and he bites your neck slightly as you shake and tremble against him, your first orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Hot flashes come over you as your core tightens, the coil inside of you snapping- your little legs shake and you hold onto Steve for support, who rides you through your orgasm.
“This pussy is mine,” he practically growls, his fingers clawing around your throat, palm splayed against it uncomfortably. You thrash wildly when he squeezes, but Steve doesn’t care: you don’t deserve him, not at all, not one bit - he is Captain America! He can do what he wants!
“This pussy is yours,” you rasp as his cock nestles against the spongy spot inside of your pussy, your hips desperately rolling to get any source of friction. “Please, Steve! It’s all yours! Wanna cum again! Wanna cum!”
As you cry desperately, your frame pressing up against his, Steve grins, thrusting up into you painfully slow. The motion is enough, though. It sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, and your coil tightens - it grows tighter every single time he moves, the brush of his cock against the insanely sensitive spot inside of you making your legs quiver.
“You love it. I know you love it, sweetheart. Being filled with my baby. It makes you real wet, doesn’t it, doll?" His voice is gentle, and he peppers soft kisses against your neck, eradicating the pain he had left behind earlier.
"Mhm. I love it and I love you, Steve," you agree eagerly, your hands digging into his shoulders, your timid body taking every slow, dragged thrust of his. “I’m so close.”
Your whimpers make his cock twitch inside of you. You sound heavenly - angelic, the gentle moans that slip past your lips making him wish he could just give you his baby all over again. And he will, after you’ve had this one - god, he can’t wait to pump you full of his babies again and again and again. Steve's hands grip your hips gently, his eyes fluttering shut as your velvety walls squeeze him again, so soft and perfect, and he lets out a hearty moan which makes the knot inside of you tighten.
"I want it," you whimper, your nose brushing against his, and you gaze up at him through wet lashes. “Please.”
Your begging makes Steve bloom with pride, and at your words, he thrusts up into you harder. It's not long before you're bouncing quickly atop him, mewls and cries of pleasure slipping past your lips. Your curls fall messily in front of your eyes, and he sucks in a breath at the ecstatic state of you: you’re desperate - so close to your edge, again. Your cheeks are warm and messy, and the sounds of slick bouncing off of the living room walls makes you feel more cockdrunk than you already are.
And then you begin to come undone atop of him.
He does, too. Steve loves it. Your velvet walls squeeze him so tightly that you’re milking him - you take in every drop of his cum, and as his hips still inside of you, Steve places gentle kisses against your nose.
Your big, beautiful eyes stare back at him, your hips juddering against his. You pant, your nails digging into his chest as you steady yourself atop of him. For a second, you can’t believe it - you really let Steve use you again.
But he loves you. And then conflict tugs at you all over again, because he is a good guy, incredibly so! He’s Captain America, his job is literally to protect you - and hasn’t he done exactly that? You’re the most protected person in America right now, considering the fact you’re pumped full of his babies.
“Do you trust me, sweetheart?”
You nod. “I- I do, Steve.” Your voice trembles, leaning your body weight against his, unable to hold yourself up.
“Good girl.” He brushes his nose against yours, smiling as you tremble against him. “That’s all you’ll ever have to do.”
As Steve carries you to bed, tucking you in tightly, he smiles down at you. He’s glad he’s finally changed the locks, and he’s glad that you don’t have one of the new keys.
He can keep you here now until he thinks you’re ready to go. Until you’re ready to accept your place as Mrs. America.
—
What you used to call kidnapping, Steve called assimilation.
You’re not locked in his house, unable to go home, unable to contact any family or friends. No, you’re just in an educational program, learning how to be a perfect housewife. That’s what Steve says, anyway, snickering away to himself as he does.
It’s lonely, and it’s scary. Yet you have nothing to fear, especially when Steve comes home. He wraps you in his arms, engulfing you in his scent, pressing you against his brawny body as though you’re his world. You breathe him in, clutching at him desperately, thankful that he’s coming home safe and sound.
It’s been so long the thought of escaping no longer even brushes your thoughts, but still, Steve wonders if you have realised your place. He can’t risk letting you out if you haven’t - but then again, who would believe you? A pregnant woman whose husband represents all of the stars and stripes?
Still, he can’t help but worry about you. Have you assimilated? Have you learnt? It’s a question that Steve isn’t sure of the answer, but as you curl into his big frame, he believes that you have. Perhaps you’ve finally learnt it’s easier to comply with the Captain’s orders than to defy them.
“How has your day been, Steve?” you ask, nudging your head into the corner of his neck as he presses his palms against your stomach. He’s big and warm, comforting and strong, peppering gentle kisses against your face, praising you for being such a gorgeous girl.
You’re bulging now. Practically ready to give birth at any second. It sends a gentle ache to Steve’s length, his lips pressing lovingly against your stomach. He loves coming home to you. He always has, even when you defied him and cried and begged him to just treat you like a colleague again. It’s selfish - Steve knows it’s selfish - but he just couldn’t ever go back to not knowing you. Now that he has you, he can’t let you go. Ever.
“Work was fine. Buck and I had to do introduction training with some rookies. They didn’t even leave a scratch.” Steve laughs, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants, tugging them down slightly so your entire stomach is on display. “How was your day, mama? Productive?”
It is slightly distracting as Steve kisses your belly. You scrunch your eyebrows in concentration, your fingers resting in his blond locks. “I painted some of the nursery.” You say shyly, face flushing as he begins to murmur sweet nothings to your stomach. “Just did the trims. There was a few deliveries that came, too, but they were too heavy for me to move. Didn’t wanna hurt myself.”
“Good girl.” Steve’s breath fans against your stomach, his head nestling against you, his hands tugging your sweatpants down some more. “I’ll move them after dinner, get ‘em all sorted,” he tells you, eyes eagerly trained in on your panties as your sweatpants drop to the floor.
It takes everything in him not to let an audible groan crawl out of his mouth. The panties you’re wearing are lacy and baby pink - similar to the ones you wore the first time he fucked you, and it sends another terrible ache to his cock. You squeal as Steve presses a soft kiss to your clothed pussy, and he can hear how quickly your heart begins to race in your chest.
“Steve - Steve, stop, I have a question. Steve, it’s serious!” He stops, looking up at you with his big blue eyes which glisten with mischief. You almost don’t want to ask because he seems so giddy - but then you have caught him in a good mood, so you’ll risk it anyway. Your heart tightens in your chest, and your lips set into a frown when you ask, “I was wondering - uh, when I have our baby - could I - could I go back to work?”
Steve reacts like you’ve just slapped him across the face. His smile drops, and his eyebrows furrow. Just when he thinks you've learned, when he thinks he’s finally flushed you out of this ridiculous twenty-first-century feminist bullshit, it drags you back in.
A woman’s place is not at work. It’s in the home.
"Why do you need to work when you have me?" Steve's voice is eerily calm, and his stubble brushes against your inner thigh. You still against him, tense as your fingers stop in his hair, and he can hear your heart gently racing in your chest.
"It's - it's just something I'd like to do. To keep myself occupied."
Steve groans, rubbing his nose into your skin. "You will be occupied, doll. You'll have a baby to raise."
You gnaw at your lip. Steve’s eyes are intense, and he tries not to bark out an order for you to stop. gnawing on your lips. He despises it when you do that. “We could always get a babysitter so I could go back to work,” you suggest, voice faltering when you notice his eyes darken slightly.
"No. It is your job as a mother to look after our children, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I don’t trust anybody else to raise them.”
"Steve-"
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." Steve grunts from below you, his blue eyes darkening as he gazes up at you. "In fact, I don't want this mentioned again - ever - do I make myself clear?"
“Steve-“
“Do I make myself clear?”
You pout, nodding silently, and Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. His cool breath fans against your thigh, and his thumb doesn’t stop brushing your stomach. He wonders where he ever went wrong with you. You’ve been so good recently, and he ponders on why you have to ruin it. Steve thinks you do it on purpose, rile him up as a way to show one last act of fiery defiance.
He’ll be the bigger person today.
“I can work for us. I can provide for us. Your job as my personal assistant is irrelevant now that you’re carrying our baby.” Steve peppers another gentle kiss against your clothed pussy, and you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut slightly as his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, gently beginning pulling them down. “You’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted. Everything you’ve ever needed. Put your faith in me, doll, that’s all I ask.”
“Okay, Steve.” Your throat feels tight when you swallow, your knees buckling slightly as Steve’s tongue licks a stripe up your pussy. It sends you by surprise - a hot white flash shoots up through your spine as you tighten your grip in his hair.
“You're soaking, doll,” he murmurs as he parts your thighs with his hands, pressing gentle kisses against your heat. It does feel good - Steve's entire focus is you, and he gently rolls his tongue against your nub, circling his tongue from your clit to your hole and then back up to your clit. "Do you just love the thought of having my babies and taking care of them, baby? Does it get you as riled up as it does me?”
It's embarrassing that Steve's words make your pussy throb. It's even more embarrassing that he knows, a satisfied smirk painting his lips as he dips his tongue into your sweet nectar again. His tongue darts around your clit, and your knees wobble slightly at the action, your hands gripping onto him for support. "Roll against my face, baby, it's okay. I know you want to." His words of encouragement make you mewl, and you do just that - roll your hips against his face, your vision going starry as his tongue swirls against your clit perfectly, the stimulation making the knot in your stomach tighten.
"Steve," you whimper out, your eyes fluttering shut as your legs wobble, his large hands coming up to hold them in place. The feeling of his fingers darting across your thighs sends butterflies to your stomach, and you whine as his tongue keeps flicking against you, making sure to hit every angle of yours he knows that you like.
You hate how much he knows you. You hate how he knows that you're about to cum as your legs give way. Steve hums, the vibrations sending shocks to your pussy, your fingers curling in his hair, the grip tight. You see stars, and hot flashes shoot through you - the knot inside of you tightens and tightens until you feel it snap, to which you cry out, flooding Steve's face with your wetness. And he loves it - he fucking loves it, soothing praises escaping his lips as he quite literally licks your clean, his fingers rubbing soft circles on your thighs.
It's terrible how much you ache when he pulls away from you, how much you miss the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your pussy. Steve stands, his head nestling in your neck, his hands rubbing smooth circles against your stomach. You pant against him, still coming down from your high when you hear a timer ding in the distance of your kitchen.
"Dinner's ready," you murmur, looking up at Steve, flushing as his deep blue eyes stare down at you.
"Dessert before dinner. Not my usual go-to," he comments, to which you laugh.
When he enters the kitchen, the table is already set. You both eat with no mention of your old job - it’s like all defiance within you has melted away, opting to believe that Steve is right. Opting to believe that Steve will do right by you.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x y/n#steve rogers x reader#steve x y/n#marvel avengers#the avengers#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x female reader#chris evans#dark steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x y/n#steve drabble#dark steve rogers#captain america#captain america x you#steve rogers series#oneshot#dark chris evans#womnsfw#defiled and dethroned#1k 💕
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crowley hasn't cried like this before.
not when he fell.
not even when freddie mercury passed.
there was that time the bookshop caught fire and his godforsaken heart actually stopped beating because he's never not been able to feel aziraphale's presence—this sunshiny, anxious buzzing energy always a metaphorical arm's length away, a hop-skip-and-a-miracle away. but crowley cannot miracle himself to where he cannot feel. and he could not feel aziraphale then. he couldn't feel aziraphale even before he saw the flames, and he still ran into that burning building.
he was drunk when he cried after that. it was an excuse. aziraphale didn't ask about it when he'd come back to his senses.
he's not drunk now.
primarily because the bentley refuses to move, and he's too far gone to manage the simple miracle of calling a glass of whiskey to his hand. he curses the car, and then he curses himself, with half a mind to hit the steering wheel until something breaks—the wheel, his bones, he doesn't care—but the blurriness in his eyes threatens the accuracy of his aim, so he doesn't.
he's not drunk. and he can't feel aziraphale now. and that makes it incredibly worse.
there's a taunting voice in the back of his head, pointing out how stupid it is that he's hyperventilating in the driver's seat when a demon like him shouldn't even need to breathe. it's all ragged gasps for air and embarrassingly pitiful hiccups and shaky sobs that fill the interior of the vehicle, and he's almost glad aziraphale isn't here to see this.
he tells himself he's glad aziraphale isn't here at all.
and he tells himself to believe it. to get it through his fucking head. to go back to the damned lies because he tried telling the truth, and it only took 15 minutes for his world to end.
he thought they had prevented that.
but here he is.
apocalypse again.
#good omens#writing#ineffable husbands#ineffable divorce#crowley#crowley pov#post final fifteen#kayjaye writes
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Good news! After several months of appeals to the bureaucrats, fat cats, and showboaters at City Hall, they have approved my petition. What petition, you ask, your eyes widening in what my socialization exercise book tells me is a look of fear. It is my pedestrian petition.
You see, for the last couple years, delivery robots have been menacing Western civilization. At first, the cute little boxes on wheels would just do tiny fuck-ups. Maybe one would drive through an active crime scene, spreading blood and DNA evidence all over the place as it drove over the body. Perhaps one would adorably smash through a plate glass window of a department store, having detected a faster route to its destination.
The cops were powerless. These things had wheels, and that made them cars. And if there's one thing cops can't do, it's stop cars from behaving badly. After all, the cops drive cars, and if the cops ticket people in cars... they could accidentally ticket a cop, too. So they just held off for awhile. Awhile, that is, until my petition cleared, and By-Law 69-B: Reclassification of Pedestrians Act, was approved. This made the robots into, as you might have guessed, regular old pedestrians, like you and me.
Sure, the first week or so was a bloodbath, as law enforcement opened fire on any robot that so much as beep-booped too close to their cars. After they got tired and had a nap, though, the rest of us got to have our fun, too. For instance, I was waiting at the light the other day, when a Panera Bread-emblazoned robot was slowly toodling across the crosswalk in front of me. I immediately floored it. Working the wheel, I jagged my vehicle into a hard right turn without checking if I had the right of way, heartlessly crushing the robot to a billion pieces of high-impact polycarbonate beneath the knobby offroad tires of my long-wheelbase seven-seat SUV.
I'll never forget the pitiful moans it made as it died, nor will I forget the incredible sandwich that it contained within. And the best part is that it was free of both guilt and any legal complications, thanks to the state's tacit endorsement of vehicular manslaughter. After all, driving a car is hard enough: why add uncomfortable laws about having to look out for other road users?
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Tmz vacation pictures. My bad.
the sweetest torture one could bear [H.Steinfeld]
full request: Hi, I have part of a request. Aha, I didn't know what else to put with it, so do with that what you will. Instead of JA being in the videos and photos with Hailee, it's Reader.
pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader
summary: when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.
warnings: enemies-to-lovers type vibe with a semi-happy ending; PR relationship + stunts; like two JA mentions; R being a jerk to hailee and vice versa; so many petty arguments and hidden feelings; R is technically also famous but it never gets expanded upon whoops; 110% got carried away because of lacy by olivia rodrigo
wordcount: 2.5k
a/n: i know you said you didn't have anything in mind, lovely anon, but i think i took your idea and RAN with it. i just needed someplace to put all the emotions hailee's been bringing out of me lately with the stupid JA situation so i can continue to write fics for her. that's why the NY stunt is still a thing that happens in this fic. hope you enjoy despite how scathing some of my comments can be in this <3
* * * * * * *
Dating a famous celebrity is supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you imagine things would be like if you were dating anyone but Hailee freaking Steinfeld.
Although, to be fair, the word dating technically doesn’t apply to your situation.
Even calling it a PR relationship is incredibly generous. You’re pretty much just damage control after whatever mess happened in New York with her and that quarterback.
Of course, it was a mess she created and once it blew up in her face she was forced to retreat and avoid looking like a bigger asshole…which is where you come in. You don’t know how or why but somehow you got roped into things and now you’re being forced to help the brunette clean up her image.
Maybe forced is being dramatic but your team didn’t even let you attempt to talk them out of the idea and instead shoved you onto a private plane headed to Mexico City for a Fourth of July mini-vacation with the one and only Hailee Steinfeld.
Also known as the one person you’d never willingly go out with. Much less on a mini-vacation that only has one goal: get as many paparazzi as possible to take pictures of the two of you so speculation will run wild and distract Hailee’s fans from the New York stunt.
You have no doubt the plan will work which just pisses you off even more.
You’re not new to this life of hiding or the lies it comes with but there’s something about the way the brunette handles things that just rubs you the wrong way. She straddles the border between genuine and fake so often that you’re sure she doesn’t even know who she is most days.
Hence her constant disappearances from the public eye nowadays. Disappearances that just make her stunts with the quarterback even more confusing.
You’re not here to figure the actress out though, you just have to fake a few smiles, hold her hand, and pretend you actually like each other. The media and her fans will do the rest.
Whether the result of your stunt ends with people speculating you're in a relationship or just a public denunciation of her connection to said quarterback is ultimately up to her team so all you two really have to do is pretend.
Something that would be easy…if your distaste for each other wasn’t so obvious.
“Did your lovely team forget the part where we’re not actually a couple?” You question the second you arrive at your hotel room, only to find a single king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“Why do you assume it was my team that messed up?” She fires back, eyebrow raised in defiance.
You roll your eyes as you finish wheeling your suitcase inside. You don’t even bother to argue about who gets the bed and instead put your things down on the couch set up in the corner of the room. After all, you’re still a gentleman. “Because this whole thing was their idea.”
“They actually know how to do their job, unlike some people.” Her verbal jab isn’t lost on you and it quickly silences the small voice in your head that was urging you to try and get along with her.
“And what’s my job? Pretending you’re the center of the universe?”
“It’d be a nice start.”
“Too bad I’m not the academy-award nominated actress here.” Out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be a compliment but you both know that’s not the way you meant those words.
Hailee doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at you as if that’ll make you disappear.
Unfortunately, it doesn't, which means you’re still stuck in this same situation with the same pair of eyes that wish they could send you six feet underground…or, at the very least, six rooms away from her.
That glare is more than enough to draw the conversation to a close for the moment. The awkward silence that sticks around instead is just as bad though and you’re actually glad when Hailee’s phone goes off.
You watch, with a slightly amused smile, as the actress argues with one of the many poor souls from her PR team.
She’s clearly not as amused as you are considering the string of curse words that reverberate around the small room. You pick up enough information to know there’s already a plan and a schedule for the pap shots so the two of you have to be on top of your game sooner rather than later.
There’s a split second during the phone call where your eyes meet hers and everything else seems to fade away for those few moments.
There’s no badly suppressed annoyance in her eyes, no vacant look that represents the hundreds of walls she’s put up to keep you locked out of her mind and heart. For the briefest of seconds, she seems…real. It’s as if the mask she so easily wears to hide who she is slips and leaves behind the uncertainty she seems to detest so much.
Ironically, that uncertainty would make her a lot more bearable in your opinion.
The moment ends as quickly as it started and in no time at all, you’re back to being passive-aggressive while pretending to like each other.
“So, what’s the plan here?” You hate how much you care about not further ruining her life by messing up the pap shots. “Last time I checked, you weren’t out of your glass closet yet.”
“Are you saying you check up on me often?” She replies as she gets into the private pool next to you.
For some reason, her team had decided the two of you should kick things off with some pool pictures before going out to dinner tomorrow night. It’s a pretty ridiculous idea but nothing screams summer romance like paparazzi pictures at the pool and/or the beach.
“Yeah, it’s like watching a trainwreck. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.”
“Funny.”
She sits across from you and you do all you can to stop your eyes from wandering across her face. It’s impossible to deny how attractive she is, no matter how long her list of contradicting personality traits is.
You assume she’s forgotten about your question until she speaks up a few moments later. “There’s no real plan. We don’t have to actually kiss for people to think there’s something going on.”
“What a relief.”
The brunette rolls her eyes at you but no snarky comeback escapes her lips. It might be too insignificant to call it progress but at least you’re having a conversation that doesn’t turn into an argument.
Nothing significant happens after that besides Hailee spotting the paparazzi and both of you pulling the most authentic smiles you can muster onto your faces. Turns out, the fake smiling is the easy part, finding something to talk about is the hard part.
You let her talk up and down about Hawkeye and Across the Spiderverse until you’re finally able to go back to hiding inside the hotel room.
It pains you to admit it but she’s not half bad when she’s talking about her projects. Being alone certainly helps ease some of her anxieties and you’re sure her people-pleasing tendencies have disappeared around you. (You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not...not that you care either way.)
You push away your slightly conflicting, and borderline confusing, feelings as you make your way back into your room.
And maybe your eyes wander down to her abs a few times and maybe you catch her looking your way once or twice but that doesn’t matter. Sharing one moment with her where she feels like an actual person instead of a walking brand deal isn’t going to change your mind about her.
You make it back into the room and a few peaceful minutes go by until Hailee’s phone goes off once again, her face twisting from annoyance to shock to genuine dread in the span of five seconds. You can’t explain why but something inside you urges you to step out onto the balcony and leave her alone.
So you do just that.
Contrary to the way you act when you’re around her, you do sort of care for her in ways you’d rather not think about. It’s just hard to show that side of yourself when she does everything in her power to get under your skin. It might not be on purpose but that doesn’t make it any less grating.
You rise to your feet and grab the towels you had left hanging on the back of a chair. You don’t say a word as you slide the balcony door open but you swear you hear her mumble out a thank you before you slip outside.
Maybe things between you two aren’t so hopeless after all.
It might be wishful thinking but things are surprisingly calm for the next few hours. It's not until you’re getting ready to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened today that she speaks to you again.
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, y’know? The bed is big enough for both of us.”
You turn to look at her, doing a terrible job of hiding the surprised look on your face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s fine, y/n.” She shrugs as if sharing a bed with her isn’t a big deal. “Just don’t snore or I’ll kick you to the ground.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you reply sarcastically.
A tense silence fills the room after that and neither of you makes any attempts to break it. Hailee busies herself with double-checking that everything is locked while you climb into bed, turning onto your side and attempting to put as much space as possible between the two sides of the bed.
She turns the lights off, leaving you in the darkness with a rapidly beating heart. You’re not sure why you’re nervous but you have a feeling falling asleep is going to be almost impossible tonight.
You lay there for what feels like hours, doing your best not to think about how close your bodies are right now. You saw her in a bikini earlier today, why are you freaking out over sharing the same bed?
You’re in the middle of mentally arguing with yourself when you hear Hailee let out a series of deep breaths. Anxiety isn’t a stranger to you and you suddenly worry something might have triggered a panic attack.
“You okay?” You speak up despite yourself. “Did you finally realize you fucked over your queer fans with the QB stuff?”
You can’t help but poke the bear even when you’re supposed to be checking up on her.
She doesn’t respond and a few seconds later, you hear her sniffle, the guilt immediately hitting you like a runaway train. “Hailee? I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”
“Republic dropped me.” Her voice is barely audible but there’s no denying the pain it carries.
The urge to turn around and look at her is far too strong for you to ignore so you take a deep breath before giving in. You turn onto your other side so you’re facing her, not wanting to ruin her moment of vulnerability by appearing uninterested.
Her eyes are trained on the ceiling above her but you can make out the glimmer of unshed tears in the warm pool of her eyes. She doesn’t give you a chance to speak up, she just continues as if you’re not looking at her with real empathy in your gaze for the first time since you met.
“I should’ve seen it coming, you know? With all the hesitation and the drawn-out meetings. Coast was supposed to be my chance to prove myself and it did nothing. I hoped rushing SunKissing would fix things but it just made everything worse.”
“And then New York happened,” you mumble.
“Yeah-” Her voice breaks and you hate the way your heart aches for her. “I should’ve just owned up to it but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit I was grasping at straws so when my team told me to bring you into this mess…I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Saying no would have been a good start.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she turns her head to the side, allowing your eyes to meet in the darkness. “You don’t deserve any of this.”
The sincerity in her words strikes you “Oh, come on, I’m no saint. I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got here.”
“You're right. You're awful.”
“Shut up, Steinfeld.”
She laughs.
An actual laugh that makes the corners of her glossy eyes crinkle up in a way that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You’re sure you’ve never made her laugh like that in the time you’ve known each other.
And you hate the way you’re already obsessed with the sound.
“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she says suddenly before fully turning her body toward you. “It was a stupid idea anyway, it’s not going to change people’s minds.”
“Maybe you’re the one who has to change her mind.” You offer the only advice you can think of. “Pretending like everything’s okay isn’t doing you any favors, Lee.”
The nickname slips out of your mouth without a second thought. You don’t even realize you said it out loud until Hailee questions you about it. “Lee? Five hours ago you wanted me out of your life and now you’re giving me a nickname?”
“Five hours ago I wasn’t sure you even had feelings.”
Your comment would have surely earned you a glare earlier but now you get a smile instead. “Point taken.”
“I mean it, though. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and do what you want. You owe yourself that much.”
“The things I want will just make things worse,” she says, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips.
“Maybe it’s worth it.”
You have no idea what her words truly mean until you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.
Everything inside of you tells you to make a joke, or piss her off, or at the very least, turn around and pretend to go to sleep. Anything to stop both of you from making a huge mistake.
But then her hand reaches out to touch your waist and you find yourself leaning toward her without a second thought.
It’s stupid and reckless and the last thing you should add to this already messy situation and yet it’s the only thing you want to do. You don’t want to argue with her anymore, you just want her. Even if it’s only for the night.
“What are we doing?” You whisper, your lips barely inches away from hers.
“I don’t know…do you want me to stop?”
You meet her eyes and reach your decision. “No.”
It’s all the encouragement she needs to close the gap between you, her lips claiming yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. You tangle your hand in her hair to pull her closer as a thought suddenly dawns on you.
There’s no way to deny how attracted you are to her. No way to deny how drawn you are to her despite all the things that get under your skin about her.
No way to deny that you’re actually falling for Hailee Steinfeld.
Shit.
#hailee steinfeld x reader#hailee steinfeld x female reader#hailee steinfeld x you#hailee steinfeld x y/n#hailee steinfeld fic#hailee steinfeld imagine#hailee steinfeld fanfiction#hailee steinfeld#hawkeye#mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel#wlw#wlw fic#writing
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Invasion
David struggled to the shower after a very an unsettled night. He was aching all the way downwards. He rubbed his muscular core, hoping the hot water would give him some relief. To his complete horror, his middle was hugely expanding. He tried to think what was happening when the most powerful pain crushed into his strong body. He collapsed to the tiles, fumbling for his phone. He called the emergency number, begging for immediate assistance.......
The gurney was frantically wheeled down the long corridor. David was trembling violently against the transport bed, contracting in horrific agony.
"What is happening? The pain! Make it stop!"
The automatic doors of the OR flew open as he was rushed into the room filled with medical professionals.
"We have another one! Went into labour only an hour ago. Its a huge one! Transitioning fast. Blood pressure elevated. Contractions are less than a minute apart."
David looked completely confused at doctors and nurses as he was hooked up to monitors and examined roughly by several medical staff.
"It is the biggest one! This one is going to have a very difficult time."
David panted against the constant pressure as he looked up at a TV screen broadcasting a news flash announcing that there has been an alien invasion. Men were being rushed to maternity wards after several crazed aliens has impregnated them with huge alien babies.
David slowly started to remember his crazy night at the most popular nightclub in town. It ended in a wild, intense encounter with a very good looking companion. The passionate experience had been mindblowing. David seemed to not stop cumming for hours, even after he came home and went to bed.
"Doctor, the contractions are incredible. The patient is fully dilated already. He is READY to deliver."
David moaned loudly, allowing the reality of his situation to fully take hold. He breathed and panted, involuntarily pushing against the immense pressure between his thighs.
"Its starting come, Doctor, its a huge bulge down here! We will need all the necessary equipment for possible complications."
Bearing down harder and harder, David roared out in total anguish as his opening stretched around the biggest alien head. It was as big and as heavy as a massive bowling ball. He was dripping in perspiration as his strenuous efforts forced it downwards. He couldn't believe he was in a birthing room, pushing out one massive baby. He cried and pushed again, feeling the beginning of crowning. The fire storm raged through his throbbing entrance as more of the gigantic head merged.
Secretly, David had a huge birthing fetish. This was his ultimate fantasy. The reality was proving to be much more painful and challenging than in his fantasy world.
"Its coming! Doctor, its coming fast! The contractions are nothing like we have ever seen."
Clutching the side bars, David tried to focus on something, anything but the agony of pushing. But every time closed his eyes, the sensation of the birthing head brutally erupted through his throbbing opening.
The doctors looked at the monitors as David continued to struggle with the humongous sphere between his tight entrance.
"We are in for a very long night ahead!"
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five
TW: abuse of authority, harassment, cops
The next day, you are driving home from a long shift in the wee hours of the morning when you see the dreaded flicker of blue and red lights flashing behind you. There’s hardly anyone else out on the highway, so there’s little chance they’re not directed at you.
What the hell? You weren’t even speeding. You are exhausted. Did you drift over the line? Fuck. A ticket is the last thing you need right now. You make your way over to the side of the road, hoping you don’t get a flat from all the extraneous bullshit that peppers the asphalt. There really is no one around, and a little thrill of fear tightens your chest. Being a woman alone late at night in this situation isn’t exactly what you would call ideal.
You know you don’t exactly look threatening, but you’re still careful to place your hands in full view on the top of the wheel. You glance in your side mirror at the black Dodge Charger parked behind you, momentarily blinded by those stupid flashing lights. However, when you set eyes on the figure who emerges from the driver’s seat, your heart plummets to your stomach.
That motherfucker.
He approaches your open window with all the swagger of a rooster, long legs and broad shoulders. Doesn’t look much like that burn is bothering him now. You know part of the bulk of his chest is a vest (and you’re glad he’s wearing it, considering his habits) but it still manages to fry the aesthetic center of your brain as you watch him.
He bends down slightly to peer in your window, blinding you with his flashlight. So unnecessary.
“Really?” you grouse, squinting at the bright light.
Ignoring your complaint, he offers that shit-eating smirk. “Know why I pulled you over?”
He leans on your window, and you know you stare at that large hand distractingly close to your shoulder for a beat too long, utterly betraying your thoughts to him. “No idea,” you sigh, tired, and pissed off, and you hate to admit it-entirely too titillated by his newest form of harassment.
Again, it occurs to you how very alone you are out here, at this time of the night. Even if there was another car driving by…there’s no way they’re stopping to help you.
“For driving while adorable.”
Of all the things he could have said in that moment-and you cannot help but remember the way he trussed you like a christmas turkey and said such filthy things in your ear that one time you treated him-it’s so cheesy it almost makes you smile.
“Are you kidding me?”
“And you were going 7 miles over the speed limit.”
This was LA. You took your life in your hands for not speeding at least fifteen over most of the time.
“You’re writing me a ticket for going seven over?”
He doesn’t actually have the ticket book in his hand, and he looks around the deserted highway as though thinking about it.
“Well. I don’t have to…”
Here it comes.
“I’m not going on a date with you to get out of this. Write it up. Fuck it. I don’t care.”
He pays you a little frown, because he’s trying to be cute, but you’re just not playing his game. You imagine a man like this isn’t used to women not playing any games he asks them to. He has no idea how stubborn you can be.
When he honest-to-god makes a pouty face, pushing out that beautifully full lower lip it’s all you can do not to reach out of the car and slap him-or maybe punch him in the dick-because it’s charming, and it melts your heart a little, and you so do not need this. You’ve been dreaming about him nearly every goddamn night since you first treated him and this is only going to throw gasoline on the fire-fuck!
“Did you forget that I have a boyfriend?” you remind him, for yourself as much as him. Maybe it’s not wise, to poke the bear while he’s actually almost being sweet-but you are mad.
His eyes narrow at you, and why do you get such a thrill from that?
“Do you? Because the two of you seemed a little…awkward, together. Not sure I buy it.”
“Things are just new,” you defend. “What, do you want to hear about how he rubs my feet on my break?”
The glint in Officer Ludlow’s eyes is like a bared blade. “Just your feet? Honey, if you were my girl I’d rub you all over. For your health.”
Fuck if that doesn’t send a spear of heat straight to your center, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice you shifting in your seat, trying to relieve some of the absolutely diabolical ache between your thighs.
“Well…the break room has its limits.”
“Wouldn’t stop me.” The images that is going to give you when you lay down to sleep.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t. But Julian is actually a gentleman.”
“Yeah? Pretty sure that’s code for boring as fuck.”
“He’s not boring. He’s sweet. He’s taking me to coffee on Saturday morning, and you know what? I’m not going to think about you at all.”
A greater lie was never told.
It almost feels like you finally scored a hit. His expression turns stony, unreadable, and you know it’s crazy but you almost feel bad about it. At last he straightens from practically leaning into your window, hooking his thumb in his belt. “Alright, sassy girl,” he says, patting the top of your car. “I’ll let you off with a warning this time.” With a final dark look he swaggers back to his Charger.
It’s possible you watch him go in your side mirror-it’s really not fair, that God gave a man that annoying such a biteable little muffin of an ass.
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Younger Gods: II
Younger Gods Master List
Dream x fem!reader (unnamed)
Chapter 1
Dream has doubts, questions, and a trespasser without a name. Matthew's rescuer has more problems.
Warnings: language, (non-sexual) child abuse, violence
A/N: First of all, you are awesome, amazing, incredible, and all good things wrapped in sunshine, rainbows, and sweet dreams. Secondly, I almost split this chapter in two. Not sure how I feel about the quality of the latter half, but we'll make due. Thirdly, again - holy shit - thank you so, so much for your support. I've added a tag list at the end of this chapter. If you left a more substantial comment, I will try to reply sometime today after I have slept. Lastly, I'm working on a masterlist to make navigation easier, so... enjoy?
*To like is sweet, but Morpheus smiles when you comment and/or reblog
Chapter 2: Lightning in a Bottle
The door to the little cottage stood bolted fast against them. Matthew’s pecking knocks went unanswered, and Morpheus studied the blank sky as his raven swept around to spy through a window. He suspected what the raven would find as his own eyes combed over the cloudless blue.
“The fire’s out,” Matthew said, returning to his side in a rustle of wings. “I couldn’t see any movement inside, and there were a few things missing. Few things knocked over. Looks like she left in a hurry.”
“Yes.” He’d studied the lands Matthew described as he strode through them. They did not live up to the tales. He found a hollowed, soulless space with wilted grass and browned flowers. Summer foliage crumbled from half-barren trees in the echoing stillness. Not a breath of wind disturbed the gathering detritus, and little cracks in the dust gasped for rain that wouldn’t fall.
A realm abandoned.
“She has fled,” he observed.
It fueled his growing concerns. This wasn’t a place Matthew’s mysterious benefactor just stumbled upon. She’d crafted it, grown it with nothing but her own magic and means. Without its master, it could only die. Although it wasn’t a large realm, it was clearly a realm, one bordering the Dreaming, no less, and if Matthew hadn’t fallen into it, even he might never have known.
Few entities could sustain their own worlds, and now he feared he had turned this creature into an enemy.
Matthew puffed up, shaking his head, and Morpheus looked away, preparing for the inevitable.
“Can’t imagine why.”
“I could not see you,” Morpheus said. He’d said it before, and he’d repeat his reasons until this little drama was resolved. “I thought you were lost. When an entity appeared with you in her arms, broken and bleeding, what was I to think? I could only assume you’d been taken hostage and forced to serve as a guide.”
“Well.” The raven flew into a little cherry tree, bereft of flowers, just in his master’s line of sight. “I wasn’t.”
“Yes.” He turned to pass back through the gap in the stone wall with its dry, crumbling moss. “You’ve said.”
“You know you’re kind of terrifying sometimes, right, boss?”
“I am. As I meant to be.”
The raven swooped over his shoulder, gliding just ahead as they walked back towards the border.
“So, what do we do now? Spare my dignity and pretend this never happened?”
“No.”
Wheeling overhead, Matthew squawked, “Why?”
“Because she may return.” Dream would set out the obvious if Matthew could not find it on his own. A misunderstanding instigated this problem, and he would suffer no more of them. “Even if she was not a threat before, she could be now. I must protect the Dreaming.”
After the Vortex, after Burgess, he had grown sensitive to risks. If he suspected a thing was dangerous, he would search down to its roots before agreeing it was safe. None of this seemed safe to him.
Matthew came to land on his shoulder. This was a new level of trust, of intimacy, really. Dream hadn’t let a raven perch on his shoulder since Jessamy, but it filled a corner of his heart he’d thought too broken to beat again when Matthew first dared it. The raven didn’t abuse the privilege. He clutched Dream’s shoulder rarely. He must be very concerned to do so now.
“She didn’t give me that impression at all.” Matthew spoke slowly, carefully, like he could get away with saying something his master didn’t like so long as he delivered it with manners. “I’d hate to see you do something you’d regret later is all, sir.”
Listening to the deep silence of the abandoned sphere, Dream let one hand rise to stroke down Matthew’s ruffled feathers. “I will not.”
Only a moment of peace lingered between them before the bird launched into new questions.
“How are you going to find her? You’re going to keep looking, right?”
Dream nearly sighed, and he felt a frown draw his face into a harder expression as his mood soured. He saw no simple solution to this problem. He had nothing. No name to follow and an empty world his quarry renounced in her haste.
“I will have to buy a favor.”
He followed the stranger’s steps back across her lands, tracing the journey his raven took home. Between the trees, over the hills, through the Void, to the gates. He sent Matthew to look for the missing lady – as the raven called her – in the waking world. If he had a name, he could ask Lucienne to find her book in the library, but he wasn’t sure she’d even brushed against the Dreaming before. Matthew reported the stranger was quite reluctant to even approach the fringes.
Sitting on his throne, he thought of the Fates. To make his ask, he must offer recompense equal to and worthy of his questions. He reached out into his realm to gather the right gifts, pulling the chosen fragments of the Dreaming to rest at his feet.
First, lightning caught in a bottle. A lucky escape, good fortune snatched from peril. Impossible and powerful.
Second, a skein of silver thread. The measure of a life, fragile and bright, a story he’d ask the Fates to unspool.
Third, a fresh branch from an ash tree. A symbol of connection between worlds, a traditional offering of divination.
When he reached the shore at the border of his realm, he found another gift, unsummoned, falling to fill the quiet of early evening. A gentle rain, barely more than a mist. He welcomed it, even if he hadn’t chosen it, and called on the Fates.
“Centuries without word. Now two summons in as many years.” The One Who Is Three spoke with the Mother’s voice. “What have you lost now, dear?”
“Such interesting gifts,” the Maiden said.
The Crone sneered. “You must have quite the favor to ask. Get on with it.”
Morpheus nodded, nearly bowing, acknowledging where he stood and the indignity of his supplication. “There is someone I need to find. I have questions for her.”
“And questions for us.” The Maiden teased. “Ask them, then. One to each, and from each one answer.”
Before he could begin to ask after who found his raven, he must understand what made the little realm next to his.
“My first question: A creature brought my wounded raven to the gates of the Dreaming. What is she?”
The Maiden took the first turn. Her dark eyes drew him into a vision, and he found himself in a sacred grove full of courtly fae. They ringed a man – a god reeking of ozone and singed hair – who held out a bundle.
“Conceived to cheat a debt. Given as payment, hours old.”
The bundle cried as greedy hands snatched it away, and the god laughed and left in a flash of lightning. A blink, and the bundle was a child in golden collar like twisted boughs of ash, thin and frightened with flowers in her hair.
“God-spawned.”
Years stretched through an instant. The girl grew until he could see the shape of the woman she’d become, the one he’d met on the shore. She pulled the blade from the fae king’s belt and thrust it through his heart.
“Kingslayer.”
She turned the sword on herself – on the collar, cutting between gold and flesh as the enchanted boughs twisted tighter. She tore it away with a rush of blood and a growl like thunder. The branches shattered. Lightning struck the sacred ash tree, and the remaining court scattered in newfound fear of their plaything.
“Storm god.”
They stood once again on the shore of the Dreaming, and he blinked carefully, absorbing what he’d seen, what shades of his question the Maiden shone a light over and which she left veiled.
“Thank you.” He looked to the next attribute of the Three. “My second question: What is her name?”
The Mother smiled softly, and Morpheus saw a grave. “Her true name lies dead and buried with her mortal mother.”
“Mortal?”
He asked without thinking, already considering if he might find Matthew’s new friend in her dreams. Even half-mortals must sleep, and her human blood would tie her to the Dreaming.
“One question, dear.”
“Apologies.”
He studied the headstone, memorizing the letters below the usual blessings. If he could not have her name, he would have her mother’s.
The Crone faced him last, and he knew of all the answers given, hers would serve him least.
“Ask your question, King of Dreams.” His title sounded like a taunt from her withered lips, and he drew himself up to answer.
“What intentions does she have for me and mine?”
The third Fate laughed in his face.
“She has no intention but to run from your shadow.”
All three voices rose in chorus, startling Morpheus into taking a step back. Lightning arced out of the bottle, and the misting drizzle swelled into a torrent. The Fates were screaming, laughing, mocking him with a fourth boon he hadn’t requested.
“You each stand at a crossroads, and a path stretches between you. You’ve asked the wrong questions, and you’ve chased her to darker roads, Dream Lord. These are your answers!”
As suddenly as the tempest appeared, it vanished. He stood alone on the empty shore, bewildered.
A crossroads?
It would explain the fourth gift he had not meant to offer, even the Fates’ eager response to his call. If he hadn’t supplicated himself and offered payment first, would they have come to howl over his impending fate regardless?
Matthew cawed in the distance, and the gates of the Dreaming rumbled as they opened to admit him. Morpheus turned towards them, marching back to his domain with far more worries than he’d carried with him to meet the Fates.
A crossroads always led to consequences. He must hunt down Matthew’s lady and find where his would lead.
-----------------------------
Three months.
She never stayed in one place longer than a week, careful not to make lasting impressions that may creep into anyone’s dreaming life. She made her first two jaunts, from her cottage to Oregon and from Oregon to Florida, by lightning. It wouldn’t attract attention in either stormy state, and it was impossible to track, even for one of the Endless.
From Florida, she flew to Spain and started working her way north, stopping in youth hostels and poorly-rated Airbnbs as she moved. Sometimes she had to lie in bed, pretending to sleep, so no one in the shared bedroom would pay too much attention. Holding still, trying to rest without relaxing the way her aching body demanded was torture. But she didn’t dare fall asleep.
The Nightmare King would find her, and she didn’t know what he’d do once he had her trapped. A warning to never trespass again would be the kindest outcome, but any entity with even basic knowledge of higher beings knew Dream of the Endless could be terrible. She’d seen it. She never wanted to see him again.
She was approaching her limits, though. Any draught potent enough to keep her awake longer than a few weeks demanded talent and experience. Not to mention a particular kind of magic. She knew a few creatures who would sell her some in the UK. If she could last another week, she’d have the tools in hand to keep the Dream Lord at bay forever.
In the meantime, she had substandard potions, coffee, tea, and energy drinks bought in bulk.
At least she didn’t have to lie down and pretend to be dead for eight hours again. Her current rental offered low water pressure, a dirty kitchen, and a stained bedspread. The bare wooden floors needed refinishing, and she worried about splinters as the boards leeched the feeling from her toes. But it afforded a modicum of privacy, and she valued that most. No roommates. Blinds and heavy curtains. There was even a kettle and three mugs in the dusty cupboards, so when the fridge died on the second night, she didn’t have to resort to warm energy drinks to keep herself going.
Enough green tea could energize an army. It certainly kept one little storm god conscious.
Rain pattered against the window. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was home again. No stupid ravens asking for her help. No breathless trips through the Void. No wrathful King of Dreams reaching for her over black sand with cold fury in his eyes.
She could almost hear the fire crackling, feel the gentle weight of a homemade blanket pressing her softly into the couch…
Jerking out of her doze, she sent her mug flying. Hot tea scalded the back of her hand as the ceramic thudded against the floor. She jumped to her feet, slapping herself twice to make absolutely sure she wouldn’t nod off again.
How much longer could she last without help? Maybe she should take the next ferry across the Channel, reach out the minute she landed to make a bargain. The fatigue tugged at her like a ball and chain, slowing her down. Her mother gave her many gifts, but the human need to sleep had always been a curse. Now it wasn’t just unpleasant. It might be deadly.
She picked up the mug and moved it to the sink. With no energy left to clean the mess and no stamina to stay awake if she sat down, she just stopped. Leaned there.
She’d survived worse. She’d survive this. And then she’d start over, and she’d be smarter about it this time.
A branch tapped on the window as she dragged her hand down her face. The rain was slowing down, and she couldn’t hear the wind at all.
So why was a branch tapping against her window? And so regularly.
Chest tight with dread, she looked over her shoulder to see a raven silhouetted against the glass. The streetlight behind it turned the inky bird into a shadow, and her nails pressed deep into her palm as she turned to fully face it.
It pecked the glass again, bobbing to catch her eye.
Her gaze flicked to the shadows, looking for a lean monster ready to deliver justice for her imagined assault. But she found nothing.
The bird tapped again, and she thought she could hear a faint human voice calling over the rain. Of course it couldn’t be a regular raven. Or a crow. And of course the damn thing spoke. It sounded familiar, too.
It took a minute for her drowsy brain to work through the despair to a revelation.
She didn’t really have a choice, did she?
He’d already found her.
So, she forced herself across the room and opened the window with shaking hands. The fading storm breathed in drops of rain, and a gust of wind pushed through with the raven. The curtains fluttered as the bird flew over her shoulder. He perched on the back of the chair she nearly dozed off in, looking over her rented utility flat with beady, judging eyes.
“I take back everything I said about your last place,” Matthew said. “This is a dump.”
She didn’t want to lock the raven inside with her, but she hoped to keep out some of the rain, so she pulled the curtains. It felt like pulling the covers over her head to hide from the boogeyman.
Maybe Matthew hadn’t told his master he’d found her yet. “Is this going to be a thing? You showing up and insulting where I live?”
“Could be.” He cocked his head. “You look awful.”
He didn’t need to tell her about the bruises spreading around her eyes. They greeted her in the mirror every morning. Still rude as fuck of him to point them out, though.
“We weren’t supposed to see each other again, remember?”
“Yeah,” Matthew cleared his throat, “about that.”
She let the long sleeves of her sweater fall down over her hands, pulled her arms close across her chest, defensively comforting herself.
“Does he know? That you found me?”
The raven ducked guiltily, though he twitched to pin her with his gaze again immediately. “He sees what I see. So. Yeah.”
She snapped her head to the side, breaking eye contact. A shudder rolled through her, and she hunched, pulling her sweater taut like a blanket around her shoulders. Fear punched her in the stomach, and she was glad she never got to finish that cup of tea.
“What does he want?” she whispered.
Matthew hopped a little closer, hanging on the edge of the chair, working to persuade her while respecting her distance. “He needs to talk with you, make sure you aren’t planning something that could hurt the Dreaming. I know you’re not. You know you’re not. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
His enthusiasm won a weak effort of a smile. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”
“He could come to the waking world,” Matthew pointed out. “I think it’ll be easier for everyone if you just take a damn nap. You really do look terrible. Have you really been awake for three months? That can’t be good for you. Even a demi-god needs her beauty sleep.”
“What?” She rushed forward two steps, not exactly aggressive, but panicked beyond caution. “I didn’t tell you that. How do you know that?”
The raven shifted from foot to foot. “Lord Morpheus might have – ah – asked around.”
“Who? Who did he ask?”
“The – uh – the Fates?”
Laughing, frantic, she raked her hand back through her hair. Did the bird not get it? How stupid could a raven be? She looked at him the way he eyed her when she failed to notice the gates to the Dreaming. Had it really been three months ago? It felt like the day before, or a decade back. Nothing in-between.
“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to be telling you all this,” Matthew grumbled. “You okay?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep?”
“I seriously doubt whatever your master has planned for me will translate into a good night’s anything.” She shook her head, trying to remember the ferry schedule, wondering if she could literally outrun dreams.
“Just give him a chance.” Matthew sounded so earnest. His human voice gave his insistence weight, called to the human half of her own soul. He really believed she’d be safe, but then, he believed she’d be safe last time, too.
She dropped to sit in the corner and let her face fall into her hands. The rush of wings informed her the bird had come to rest on the bed beside her. She kept acting like she had a choice in all this, but she knew the games of kings. Any implication of freedom existed to ease the noose over the chosen victim’s head. He’d have what he wanted from her, no matter how far she ran or how long she stayed awake.
She faced the raven. “Okay.” Head up, hands dangling over her knees, palms glimmering with further evidence she was, in fact, not okay at all. “I’ll go to sleep.”
Matthew sagged in relief. “Thank you. Really, I mean it. And I’m sorry I got you into this mess, but I’ll stay here until you wake up. I’ll keep you safe.”
“You better.” She was too tired to climb into the bed, now that she’d caved to her exhaustion. “If I wake up with a knife in my ribs, I’ll haunt you.”
“I deserve that. Now, how about you get in bed? You can’t be comfortable down there.”
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She really was fading fast. It wasn’t all passive aggression. Only a little.
Matthew kept talking, probably cajoling her to get a blanket or pillow or change into pajamas or something. She knew she’d wake aching and terrified no matter how comfortable and safe she made herself before drifting off. Dream Lord or no, her sleeping hours were cursed.
The raven’s voice faded with the rest of the world. A softer darkness wrapped around her drifting mind, pulling her into dreams. How could anyone enjoy the feeling? She wanted to kick out, like people did waking from an imagined fall. Infants learned to dream before they learned to walk, following natural instinct as they crossed between realms.
But it was hard to play with an unconscious toy. At night, the creatures who raised her stuffed her full of dangerous magics so she wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t dream. She only learned how after she escaped, and by then any instincts had died. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t peaceful. It felt like jumping off a cliff.
She knew she’d fallen well and truly asleep when the weight settled around her neck. The collar she fought so hard to destroy still hung around her neck when she dreamed. Cold and sharp, it flexed like a muscle, and in the dead silence before the nightmares began, she could swear she felt a pulse.
When she opened her eyes, the Dream Lord stood before her in his helm. As she’d thought, this was no social call. She’d bet her left kidney he wasn’t there for an apology, either.
At least she didn’t have to stare into those damning eyes.
They stood on an endless lake under a dome of stars. The only ripples crept from their feet, and the black water spread to the horizon, an otherwise perfect mirror for the clusters of light and color above.
“Thank you.” The Dream Lord’s quiet voice filled the dreamscape. “For returning my raven.”
He’d chosen the perfect setting. Dark. Endless. She had nowhere to run or hide, like she’d discovered in the waking world.
“If you know I didn’t hurt him,” she said, “why are you still hunting me?”
“I still have questions.”
That sounded… ominous.
“About?”
“About the nameless storm god whose realm abuts my own, who can enter the Dreaming in body because of her immortal father, who can enter the Dreaming in sleep because of her mortal mother.”
He took a step forward. She retreated.
“About a crossroads foretold by the Fates.”
Another step. More space surrendered.
“And now that you stand before me in the Dreaming…”
He vanished. She whirled, turning on her heel, jerking around to peer over her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t see him she could still feel him, and the hairs stood straight on the back of her neck. Motion caught her eye just when long fingers brushed over the collar, and she flinched away. He let her.
“This is not of the Dreaming,” he said, attention still on the golden branches she’d taken out of his reach. “It does not belong here, and I do not like magic that interferes with my domain.”
She put her hand over the collar. She wanted to hide her pain and shame, and it was a familiar torture. It almost comforted her in the face of the enigmatic creature under the helm.
“What do you want?” The damn whisper was back, but she couldn’t find anything besides fear to power her voice.
The helm exaggerated the smallest motions, and when the Dream Lord tilted his head, he looked like a bird of prey choosing the angle of attack.
“To know you. To understand what threats you may bring against me.”
“Then just ask me.” Her dream self wore the same big sweater, and her fists tangled in the loose ends of the sleeves. “I’ll tell you anything.”
“No.” He raised a hand. “You’ll show me.”
The water under her feet remembered the laws of physics, and she plunged straight down into oblivion. Half a yelp escaped before the endless lake pushed into her mouth like a gag. She looked up, clawing for the surface as Dream’s will pulled her deeper, staring into the helm’s soulless gaze, where Dream towered above her. The stars grew distant and dim until she was alone in the dark, only the collar for company.
Invisible hands pulled on the branches around her neck, like brute force could tear if off, and the curse tightened in response, punishing her for the assault with suffocating thorns.
In a blink, the lake disappeared. It tore in half like a curtain, and she found herself sitting in a painfully bright clearing, just outside the shade of an ancient ash tree. Little hands – her hands – combed through the long grass. Her grown thoughts filled her childhood body, helpless to stop the history acting itself out like a play.
She begged in her child’s voice, “I’m so hungry. May I please have something to eat? Please, it hurts.”
King Alberich smiled down at her, the minor fae monarch who accepted her in place of her father’s godly blood. He lifted his hand to her chin. “You shouldn’t eat when your stomach hurts. Are you sure you’re hungry?”
At that age, she hadn’t understood their games. They coddled her when she was small so they could pick apart their careful work in the centuries to come. Their playtime was cut short, but they’d made the most of it.
The king pulled on her chin, and she opened her mouth obediently, expecting some morsel from his hand. Instead, he stuck two fingers in her mouth. She sputtered but couldn’t escape the hand holding her jaw. The fingers grew down her throat, and as her eyes grew wide and she thrashed against his grip, he cooed, “Let’s make sure there’s nothing in your belly making you sick.”
His claw-like nails scratched the bottom of her stomach, and a new pain overshadowed the hunger pangs.
“Empty. Like you said.” His fingers shrank back and he pulled them out of her mouth. He had blood under his nails, ringing his cuticles. As she gagged on air, doubled-over on the ground, he took a piece of bread from his plate. “Try this. See if it settles.”
She was so hungry she did. All but ripping it from his hand, she tore chunks free with her teeth. There wasn’t time to chew. He could take it away again.
But now her tummy really was hurt, and as the bread mixed with the blood in the burning scrapes in her gut, she knew she couldn’t keep down the meal. She coughed it all back up beside the king’s boots, and he pet her hair ever so gently as he said, “I told you not to eat when your stomach hurts.”
Dream was with her. She felt him sharing the space behind her eyes, observing her suffering as a voyeur while warped years of torment unspooled around them. He watched the collar, held onto long moments as the king worked magic and set spells. He had questions only the collar’s maker could answer, she realized, and her memories were his only path to enlightenment. Was that the only motive behind her suffering, or was the past his test of her character?
She knelt before the throne built into the roots of the ash tree. Alberich had tried to trap the half-mortal bard Taliesin in his court, and she’d dared help him slip the net.
“Your clever little hands have betrayed you,” the king said. “So has your smart tongue, but you will keep that. We would miss your conversation. But we treasure you too much to let so many traitorous pieces poison you, so we will take these,” he touched the upturned palms of her hands, “until they are worthy of you again.”
He peeled away the flesh from her wrists to the tips of her fingers with kindly words and a dull blade. She suffered for weeks with bared muscle, tendon, and fat, in agony with every twitch, every breath of wind. When the king returned her skin, she had to thank him for protecting her. For his mercy and wisdom.
She knew time worked differently in dreams. It had worked differently in the sacred grove where Alberich held court, too. That knowledge didn’t prepare her for the years of pain she endured a second time under the Nightmare King’s control.
When the king preferred to keep his silks and velvets clean, he let the collar punish her. She didn’t have to make a mistake. He enjoyed watching her writhe and choke as it dragged her to the brink of death.
Insults and degradation flowed over broken bones and careless poisonings. If she’d really been a mortal child, she would never have survived.
But she had, and she did again.
Finally, she was old enough and trusted enough to fight back. The king beckoned her to his side, praising the songs she’d practiced until her throat and fingers bled to entertain his courtiers. No one had told her to, and he saw it as a sign of devotion.
“What do you wish for?”
He asked expecting something simple and childish, or something clever to flatter him and earn her more praise. Years of playing the good dog, tamed and docile, lulled his caution of her godly half. It left room for his ego to grow unchecked. He’d lost all fear of what she might do, believing there was nothing she could do.
She leaned close and whispered in his ear.
“I wish for my freedom in your death.”
Her hand found the hilt of his sword, she pulled it from the scabbard, and she sheathed it again in his chest. She pierced him five times, and she only stopped when heart went still and his chest fell hollow in the wake of his last breath.
All the while, the collar tightened. Long thorns grew into her skin, seeking to bleed her faster than a crushed windpipe could suffocate her. Blinded by pain, she pushed the blade into the side of her neck. Even if it killed her, she’d get the collar off. She fought it, turning one of the king’s magical tools against another. Black bars crept across her vision, eating the light, and she poured all her strength into a final, twisting stab, angling hard against the golden boughs.
As she fell to her knees, the collar shattered. She sucked in a ragged breath, swallowing blood as a red pool grew around her. Lightning turned the grove white in a brilliant flash. Smoke filled the air. The ash was on fire.
She lay bleeding, closer to death than she’d ever been before, but stronger, too. Her younger eyes closed, and she found herself back on the surface of the cosmic lake, curled on her side.
Gasping.
The collar, as far as she knew, couldn’t kill her in her dreams, but it liked to try. It liked to remind her she hadn’t escaped the curse entirely, that the dead king still had his grip around her neck.
Whimpering, she tried to wedge her fingernails under the gold. It was a habit paired with instinct. No matter how many times it happened, she struggled to pry the thing loose, even when she knew it would do no good. Logic had nothing to do with survival.
As she battled to breathe, black shoes disturbed the water ahead, and the Dream Lord took a knee to better see her face.
Usually, the nightmares came baying once the collar incapacitated her. Fanged shadows and creeping, scaled things dripping venom, some with human faces and some with no faces at all. Now one of the most powerful entities in the universe hovered with nebulous intent. She might prefer the nightmares, though at least the Dream Lord hadn’t bitten her yet.
As if he could read her mind, the Endless said, “The nightmares will hunt you no more. But this…” He touched the collar again, and it seized so hard it nearly snapped her neck. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and he waited until she’d come back to herself before continuing, softly. “This I cannot banish. Not yet.”
She never expected him to. She expected to be banished herself so she’d leave the Dreaming and take her invasive curse with her.
“When next you sleep,” he said, “your dreams will be kinder.”
It wouldn’t matter what he promised if she never slept again.
She gradually realized in her semi-lucid state he wasn’t wearing the helm. Did he like watching her struggle without the filter, or did this mean he’d forgiven her for the trespass she never committed? There was too much pain and not enough air to think.
“This dream is over.”
As she crashed back into her corporeal body, she took a frantic breath, choked on it, and wound up coughing desperately as her lungs came to terms with the fact that she was not actually suffocating. A stabbing pain lanced her neck, and she cradled it through her favorite scarf.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! It’s okay! Everything’s fine. You’re awake!”
Matthew flew over, landing on her knee so he could look her in the eye.
“Deep breaths, okay? You alright? How did it go? Do you need some water?”
He was perched on the stained bedspread. He must’ve dragged it off the mattress to cover her while she slept. While his master tortured her for the crime of saving the dumb bird.
“I’m – I’m fine,” she croaked. A terrible lie, but she’d say whatever she had to in order to make the bird leave. His eyes were not his own, after all. “I’m fine. Go home, Matthew.”
“I’m not sure about that.” He flapped his wings, agitated. “You don’t look fine. You don’t sound fine.”
“Please.” Her voice cracked. She paused to gather herself, and the bird respected the moment long enough for her to blink away some tears and try again. “Please, Matthew.”
He sighed. He shook his head and his shoulders drooped, but he said, “You want to be alone? I get it. Okay. I’ll go. Just take care of yourself? Please?”
He fluttered to the open window and pushed aside the curtains.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
She snorted. “Too late.”
His nails tapped on the windowsill. She imagined she could hear the indecision.
When he flapped away with a final caw, the damn broke.
Her next breath caught three times as her chest wrestled with a broken sob. Hands pressed tight over her mouth kept the noise down. The last thing she wanted was someone coming to investigate, and if Matthew was lurking across the road, she didn’t want him to catch anything through the open window.
She curled up tight into the wall with a head full of bad memories and a heart full of fear.
Never again.
She would never sleep again.
When the shaking stopped and she found the stamina to get up, she grabbed her things and left the rental’s keys on the kitchen counter.
She’d be on the next ferry to England.
Chapter 3
*Tag List Discontinued*
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Detailed tests on the damage capability of kinetic energy weapons against US military armour have found it could be possible to take out a tank in one shot – even if it does not look like any damage has occurred.
That was the conclusion of Chinese scientists who conducted the in-depth assessment of kinetic weapons through experiments and numerical simulations.
They found that a solid sphere, weighing 20kg (44lb) and hurtling towards its target at about four times the speed of sound, could spell disaster for advanced tanks manufactured to US military standards.
The kinetic energy carried by such a projectile would be around 25 megajoules. This value may seem large, but when converted into electrical energy it is less than 7 kilowatt-hours, scarcely more than the energy it takes to cook two turkeys for Christmas.[...]
it was found that bolts connecting important equipment to the inner cabin wall could fracture. Even if the crew survived the impact, they would be unable to return the tank to its normal combat state.[...]
“Under high-speed kinetic projectile impact, certain typical locations in the armoured target exhibit impact response spectrum lines with amplitudes at certain frequencies exceeding the safety limits recommended by the US military standard MIL-STD-810,” Huang’s team wrote.
“Components at these locations have a high probability of failure due to overload damage,” they said.[...]
high-speed kinetic projectiles have the potential to achieve lethal damage even upon grazing contact, and their launching methods can be diverse.
Chinese naval scientists recently claimed that they have installed an electromagnetic coil gun on to a land-based wheeled platform and conducted rapid consecutive firing tests. This coil gun has the ability to accelerate heavy spheres to incredible speeds in the blink of an eye. Photos of this new weapon circulated on Chinese social media, sparking much speculation and excitement.
While the mobile coil gun might have appeared primitive, just as the early tanks did, some military experts believed it to be a game-changer. If electricity replaces gunpowder as the driving force behind lethal weapons, the landscape of future warfare will never be the same.[...]
Tank crews often point the front of the vehicle towards the energy, as this section is designed to be the most rugged and able to withstand the most firepower. But a kinetic projectile hitting this section would send destructive stress into the tank’s interior, potentially causing catastrophic damage to its firepower capabilities.
“The grip of the tank gun stabiliser console can be shaken off, the wiring base of the console pulled out completely, all connections between the fire control computer and the turret severed, resulting in a substantial loss of firepower,” the researchers said.
1 Jan 24
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As The Snow Falls - Chapter 1.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1007
Warnings Nothing much in this first chapter, just setting the scene!
CHAPTER 1
You took a deep lungful of cool, fresh air as you looked up at the beautiful wooden lodge in front of you. You dropped your bag next to your feet and shielded the bright sunlight from your eyes as you took in more of the sight.
A gentle squeeze of your shoulder interrupted you, "It's gorgeous isn't it?"
You smiled to Kylie, "Oh man, yeah. You're so lucky!"
"We don't get here as much as we'd like to but hopefully that will start to change." She raised her voice and leaned her head back towards her husband.
"Yeah, sure." Jason was struggling to carry the vast amount of luggage from the trunk, "Hey, honey? You wanna help me out here?"
Kylie laughed and jogged back to the truck before stopping and waving down another vehicle of vacationers, quickly disappearing in the opposite direction to guide them into the driveway. Jason hung his head and groaned.
"Hey, I got you." You smiled as you made your way closer to him, grabbing the handle of a bag that was slowly slipping from his grasp, "She's just excited!"
You had met Jason in your classes at college and you two quickly became close, forming a solid friendship group with friends Jasmine, Marc and Amie. You were all incredibly proud of Jason's successful football career and together, you would try to catch as many of his games as you could. Conflicting dates and locations would sometimes be a problem so you had all agreed to meet at least once a year for a big weekend reunion. It was Jason's turn this year to organise the trip this year and along with Kylie, arranged an incredible stay in their ski lodge in Vail.
"Yeah well, there'll be no skiing for me when I break my back carrying all of her junk!"
You laughed and grabbed a few more bags, placing them down in the snow at the door to the house.
"Hey girl!" Jasmine sang as she ran towards you with her arms outstretched.
You pulled her in for a tight hug, "Hi! How are you? It's been forever!"
As you pulled back, she brushed some hair from her face, "Oh, I know. I'm so busy with shoots and runways and brand deals, it's insane!"
"Well, you can tell me all about it over a drink later, why don't you bring your bags in and grab a room." You called out to her as she made her way back to the car. Your eyes landed on Amie and Marc who were chatting with Jason, so you walked back towards the truck.
"Honestly guys, it'll be fine." Jason mumbled.
You furrowed your brow, "What's up?"
Amie threw her arm around you, "Oh, just Princess Jasmine driving me crazy the whole way here."
"And speaking of driving, she didn't even touch the wheel. Me and Amie had to do it all. 13 hours, Y/N...13 hours." Marc rolled his eyes.
You giggled, "Oh, come on guys, was she that bad?"
"Fashion week this, photoshoot that...I saved people's lives at work last week but do I brag about that?" Amie shook her head.
Marc laughed as Jason handed you another bag.
"Drink, anyone?"
______________________________________________________________
You relaxed back into the large red leather Chesterfield armchair by the crackling fire, cradling a steaming mug of hot chocolate topped with a generous shot of rum.
"Well, I think you guys should've won, it wasn't a holding. The ref didn't make the right call at all." Marc shrugged his shoulders.
Kylie hissed through her teeth, "Oooh, don't let Trav hear you say that!"
"Yeah, it's a good job he can't make it this weekend." Jason took a sip of his drink as he pulled Kylie closer into him.
You smoothed your blanket down over your knees, "Oh, did you invite him?"
"Yeah, I thought it would be cool, but he's got some event or something tonight. It's a shame, it would have been cool." Jason said.
Amie wiggled her eyebrows, "It would have been cool for Y/N."
You sighed and took a large sip from your mug.
"Wait, what?" Kylie squealed.
You rolled your eyes, "It was one drunken kiss back in college, which can I remind everybody was, like, a century ago!"
Kylie giggled as Jason smiled at you, "Trav had a little crush back in the day."
The group laughed loudly and you could feel your cheeks burning, "Oh, stop it Jason! It wasn't a big deal, it was in a game of truth or dare and we were just kids!"
"Aww, leave Y/N alone!" Amie shouted above the clamour.
"Amie, you brought it up!" You laughed.
The sound of footsteps diverted your attention to the top of the staircase when Jasmine was adjusting her silk dressing gown.
"Is it just me or is it cold in here?"
Amie raised her eyebrows, "Maybe because you're wearing that! Go and put something on that will stop you from catching pneumonia."
Jasmine opened her gown as she descended the stairs to reveal a short silk chemise, her bottom lip protruding into a pout, "But it's cute!
You smiled and lifted your blanket, "Come on Jas, you can share my blanket."
"Thanks babe! So, what are we talking about?" She skipped over towards your chair and snuggled up next to you.
You opened your mouth before anyone else could, "Oh, just Jason's brother Travis who can't make it this weekend."
Jasmine lifted an eyebrow and looked over to Jason, "I didn't know you had a brother?"
Marc lifted his head from the back of the couch, "You really do live in your own little world, don't you?"
A gust of cold air flew into the room as the front door opened and a tall, broad man stepped in. He was wearing dark sunglasses and a black beanie hat, a smartly trimmed beard adorning his chin. Jason immediately leapt up from the couch and ran towards him as your heart skipped a beat.
"Alright now! Y'all can't have a party without me!"
______________________________________________________________
Yet again, this was going to be a one-shot but my brain couldn't behave so this will most likely be a big old series! The photo just fuelled something in me!
Don't forget to let me know if you would like to be on my Taglist!
Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18
#travis kelce x reader#travis kelce imagine#kelce x reader#nfl imagine#original story#travis kelce fic#travis kelce#travis kelce fluff#nfl fluff#travis kelce smut#travis kelce angst#nfl smut#nfl angst#nfl fic
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Mc stuck in a Car with the Dateables & Luke
Diavolo:
doesn´t know how to drive and even if he did he wouldn´t be allowed to which means your the one forced to drive and honestly driving around with Diavolo feels like driving around with a toddler who never left their hometown and is incredibly curios about everything
if you would ever come across a tourist trap Diavolo would beg you to stop and look at it and with his puppy eyes it´s hard to say no
and as much as you want to say your annoyed with his behavior in a really weird way it´s kinda adorable how excited he is about everything
but you definitely have to stop him from buying everything they have to bring back for the others
the Car might be big but not big enough to fit everything in there that Diavolo wants to buy
honestly it´s a surprisingly nice drive
Barbatos:
Barbatos is the one driving and will throw you out if you try to get behind the wheel, he´s very insistent about this fact
but besides that he´s the perfect drive, granted his normal look freaks people out but he doesn´t do anything
but he might need some pointers on how normal people act because acting like a Butler would seem pretty odd to most people
and the fact he decided to use his creepy smile most of the time, one person even thought he wanted to rob them which Barbatos just scoffed at, it was a kinda funny situation because the then where insulted that he didn´t want to rob them
he´s kinda in between in terms of driving partners but at least it will be an interesting journey
also he brings some self made sweets for you so no complaining here, even if he did throw you out of the Car because he thought he saw a mouse
Solomon:
horrible driving partner and should not be allowed to be behind the wheel
like you get into so many Car incidents with Solomon but for some reason both of you are always fine???
the Car was flipped, literally on fire and you were pretty sure you landed in the remains of the wind shield but nothing was wrong with you, no concussion, no scraps or anything bleeding, hell you didn´t even get any bruises!
you have no idea how he does it because he swears that he doesn´t use Magic and you believe him because you didn´t notice any which just makes everything worse
at this point you´ll just believe that universe wants him to survive and when you´re with him your included with that
he´s definitely the worst person to drive with when he´s the driver, he´s kinda okay as passenger but he does want you to try some of the “food” he made
Simeon:
he´s a perfect driver but that might be because Luke´s in the backseat, why is Luke with you? because that´s a family trip
also the only person who could have watched him would have been Solomon and neither of you are cruel enough to leave Luke alone with Solomon for an extended period of time , especially if Solomon wants to cook him something
but it´s pretty nice to drive with Simeon even if he did ignore the rules nobody would stop him, the only thing you could ever complain about is that he drives like an old man
multiple speedsters just stopped to scream at you and were confused why he looks so young and Simeon took as a compliment
at least if somebody would have gotten to rude you were there to put them in their place
after that they won´t be so rude, maybe they won´t do anything at all after your “talk” with them
but then you would have to deal with Simeon giving you a disproving look
Luke:
Simeon is the one driving, you sitting besides Simeon and Luke is in the background in his Child seat being bored because he´s forced to sit still and doesn´t want to play any games and he´s honestly just a 10 year old going “are we there yet?”
but despite being bored he doesn´t want to play any games you brought and the puzzle he wants to do is impossible because the Car moves to much which kinda makes Luke a bit cranky, which he would never admit but it´s clear to you and Simeon
Luke is going to be so happy when you take a break and he can finally stretch his legs, but you and Simeon do have to keep a look on him he sometimes wanders off
at least he´ll tire himself out and falls asleep while you and Simeon have to keep driving
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me luke
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