#and I already hate myself and my appearance so much that hearing this every five seconds really doesn’t help | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yikesitskennawrites · 2 years

Text

I’ll Be Good- Jaymes Young

Breaking Down Songs Masterlist

Transitions Masterlist

I am breaking down songs and lyrics that I feel like they fit or reminds me of Transitions. This way, you guy’s would be able to understand the protagonist and the series a little deeper than before.

A/n: Today's breakdown song is: Jaymes Young- I’ll Be Good. This song appeared in my playlist before work one morning a couple weeks ago. It was a song I used to play on repeat at the peak of my Supernatural television show phase back in 2017. I don’t think I heard it since, until about two weeks ago when it shuffled on a random YouTube playlist. But, when I first heard it, my first thought was: “Holy-shit. This is Marc.” And so, I wrote it down to break down the song and scenes that appear in my head when I listen to it. I’ve been listening to it occasionally.

To begin with:

“I thought I saw the devil this morning

Looking in the mirror”

Marc looks in the mirror every morning and believes that he is a terrible person/the devil because his own mother called him a monster for the death of his brother; and because of the amount of lives he took as a mercenary, marine, and Khonshus avatar. He wakes up angry at himself often, and even angier at the world.

“drop of rum on my tongue

With the warning to help me see myself clearer”

Right after Marc loses the scarab and arrives in Cairo, we, the viewers, find him sitting half-naked and drinking a bottle of rum in his hotel room. Although we don’t know exactly what he’s feeling because it’s not written out for us word for word, we can still assume what he’s feeling. He is pissed, Khonshu just threatened to choose Layla as his next avatar and it’s not the first time that he’s done it. Knowing the bird god, it's not a threat any longer but a promise. He is angry at himself for slipping up and letting Steven be aware of this life and fuck up the mission. He is upset that he is a god's puppet, but through it all, he continues to be blindsided by the chance of freedom from this Egyptian god and the life that Steven could have.

He could be free, he is told that this is his last mission for Khonshu and all he wants is to get out of this mess so Steven could live a normal life and Marc could disappear for good. Simply, because he believes that he doesn’t deserve this life but Steven, who doesn’t eat meat because he feels bad for the animals, does.

“I never meant to start a fire

I never meant to make you bleed

I'll be a better man today”

Marc never meant to hurt anybody. He went into that cave with his brother Randall because they wanted to explore and they didn’t think it would flood. They were excited to be adventurers like Dr. Steven Grant from their favorite movie. Marc wouldn’t have taken his brother into the cave if he knew the outcome of it. He really didn’t want Randall to die, but his mother didn’t believe him. He grew up hated by his mother and neglected by his father. If his father loved him, he would have stopped his mothers abuse, he wouldn’t have stood aside and pretended Marc's cries weren’t happening. Marcs father would have done so much more if he helped his son.

We see in episode five that Marc is celebrating his birthday with his father, but by the time that Marc is moving away and out of the house, probably going into the marines, the dad tries to stop him by saying “I can’t lose another son.” It's clear that teen-Marc was upset by hearing his father tell him this. Because the dad already lost Marc when he didn’t stop Wendys abuse.

Later on, when Marc is older, he drags himself into Khonshus temple. His torso was bloody and damaged, he was ready to die. He was going to put a bullet into his skull, he nearly pulled the trigger and moments before he lightly pressed down Khonshu says, “What a waste.” and because he didn’t want to completely die, he entertained the person or thing who spoke by answering back. After being told by his mother how much of a terrible, horrible human being Marc is, this god is telling him how much of a waste it is if Marc would take his own life. Why not become his avatar and protect the travelers of the night and be his fist of vengeance? Even with Marc on the brink of death, the god was manipulating him. He didn’t believe he was worthy to breathe another breath. He didn’t want to fight anymore, especially after being left for dead.

So, this god that Marc probably has never heard of up until this point is choosing him to be his avatar? Obviously the god had to see something in him enough to propose the offer. So, Marc, who believes that he has nothing else to lose, accepts and becomes Khonshus Moon Knight.

“I'll be good, I'll be good

And I'll love the world, like I should

Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good

For all of the times that I never could”

The repetitive promise of “I’ll be good,” that Marc must have told his mother throughout the abuse is so sad to think about. His promise to his mother that he’ll be good while getting hit with the belt. His creation of Steven who is supposed to represent his brother Randall and is the emotional protector of the system. Steven is meant to love the world, he’s supposed to see the good in everything.

Marc doesn’t believe that he is a good person, but Steven is a much better person compared to him.

“My past has tasted bitter for years now

So I wield an iron fist”

Khonshus avatar, baby. Marc now has a purpose to live and it’s to serve a god and protect those who can’t protect themselves. Which is honestly fitting, because Marc grew up being unable to protect himself.

“Grace is just weakness

Or so I've been told

I've been cold, I've been merciless”

Marc doesn’t show his emotion much. The one time we see him cry is when he reveals to Steven that their mother died and he blames himself for his brother's death. His mother probably told him that he doesn’t deserve to cry because “he killed his brother.” In episode five, we see young Marc walk down the stairs for Randalls funeral and his mother yells at him saying, “What are you doing here? You were supposed to keep him safe.” She blames him heavily from the moment they left their backyard to explore the cave.

“But the blood on my hands scares me to death

Maybe I'm waking up today”

Marc killed so many people in his time as a marine, mercenary, and as an avatar. Most of all, he believes that he killed his brother because he was blamed by his mother for his brother's death. Being told repeatedly and being beaten by his own mother for his brother's death has to do some damage. He believes that he killed Layla's father by bringing Paul Bushman to the archaeologist site Layla's father worked at. A raid gone wrong.

“For all of the light that I shut out

For all of the innocent things that I doubt

For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears

For all of the things that I've done

All these years, no, yeah

For all the sparks that I stomped out

For all of the perfect things that I doubt”

Steven is the good that Marc never got or never became. Steven believes that his mother is alive because Marc went through the length of protecting Steven from the knowledge that she’s actually dead. He set up a voicemail for Steven to call, he had someone send postcards. He made it so Steven always believed that Wendy was kind and he was loved. Steven would not have become the Steven we see in the television show if it was not for Marc's kindness of making sure Steven wouldn’t be harmed in the way that he grew up.

Marc doesn’t believe that he is kind, but rather selfish. He found Layla to tell her how he led Paul Bushman- the killer of Layla's father and atttepted murderer of Marc- to the site where Laylas father was doing his job of being a archologist. He wanted to tell her, but instead he fell in love with her and never got around to telling her because he knew that she would hate him. Marc isn’t the one who pulled the trigger on Layla's father but he blames himself for his death.

Marc doesn’t believe that he is a good person. He doesn’t believe that he deserves to be loved.

Every single event, good or bad, big or small, has lead up to the Marc the reader knows of today: A man who went through something bad but has done his best to be better. To do good.

“I'll be good, I'll be good

And I'll love the world, like I should

Yeah, I'll be good, I'll be good

For all of the times I never could”

Marc is still trying to be better. He’s black-mailing a teenager, the reader, to come over for dinner every night so they know they are safe. He’s making sure that the reader stays fed and isn’t hungry. God knows how many times Marc found himself cooking dinner for himself and his mom when she was too drunk and sad or passed out to cook. Marc is making sure that the reader is comfortable and allows them to stay at his apartment when they are terrified of Khoshu. Marc tries to get to know the reader by taking them up to the roof to see the stars on a hot summer night. Marc is doing the best that he can because he cares for them despite seemingly not caring at all or as much as Steven. He’s going to be good, he’s going to try his best to be good.

“Oh, oh-oh

Oh, oh

Oh, oh-oh

For all of the times I never could”

Although Marc fully believes that he is not worth being loved because of all the hurt that he thinks he caused, he has yet to accept that he is more than what his mother has told him that he was: a monster. A terrible son. A murderer.

Marc Spector is worth loving, Layla showed him that, Steven Grant showed him that, and perhaps, if he lets the reader, they will too.

#moonknight x teen!reader #moonknight #moonknight series #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant x teen!reader #Jake lockely x teen!reader #Layla el faouly x teen!reader #khonshu x teen!reader #transitions #breaking down

12 notes · View notes

the-second-tonks · 2 years

Note

Hello! I just found upon your account and think the way you do ships is super cute 🥹

I was wondering if I could get a Harry Potter (marauders or golden trio era - dealers choice or both) ship!

My pronouns are she/her and I currently identify as straight, I’m an ENTP/7w8/8w7/Gemini (if that matters) who thinks differently about themselves every other hour. In terms of appearance, I have medium skin, longer dark hair that can barely hold a curl (sad), 5’5”, pretty athletic,and my clothing aesthetic has been described trendy casual but I love the academia vibe! I’ll attach pictures that I’m currently enjoying so you can get a sense of who I am. Here are some emojis I’ve been liking recently too - 🫠☁️🦕🪐🍯🐝🔆🌱😵‍💫

I listen to music almost 24/7 and am a big nerd for the humanities. My favorite tv show is currently Fleabag (I’d highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it yet). I feel like I’m always thinking but that doesn’t mean they are intelligent thoughts. I love *tasteful* tattoos so much and really want to get a few pieces done. I think I like the bad boys but in reality I’d probably be better with a spicy nerd. My dry humor and quick wit are things I like about myself and like in other people. I love people watching, talking about things that excite me and learning about the people I care about. Im the friend that asks “what fruit represents you and why” or “what’s the worst and best thing you can do for someone” at 3am in the morning and follows the question with a bunch of hypotheticals. I’m like a chaotic perfectionist where everything has to be right but I kind of lose track of it at the same time. I want to be a lawyer or something like that since i have a strong personality with a secret soft side. (One day I hope someone writes me a love letter - preferably with a wax seal on it). I think I’m a little overwhelming to some people but also think I’m very cautious with the people I give my energy too. If the vibes feel off you don’t get to see the fun side of me. People will often say they didn’t think I liked them initially but then learned later that Im a complete fool (in a good, cute way).

I’m afraid of failure and losing value. I thrive off of validation and think I like the cat and mouse game a little too much. I can sometimes be a shameless flirt but I’m also incredibly dense. I dislike people who don’t know when to stop talking, I hate dog earring pages, and think that the world would be a better place if everyone could get some therapy. Thank you so much so reading all of this! I hope you liked it and hopefully it gives a good representation of me - it’s a little messy though (not unlike myself I guess). I look forward to hearing from you soon! 🖤

Hello buddy! Finally to you now! Aww thanks!!

Omg the pictures are amazing , i especially liked the metro one and the one with the dark room and stairs idk why ! The choices of emojis are also so cute! And the information is so good, i think I'll be able to ship you pretty nicely! Fleabag🤔I'll surely try my best to watch it! Thankyou for the recommendation . For marauder's era , i ship you with Remus i mean isn't that obvious hahaaha.

I ship you with —

Neville Longbottom

This cute nerd . Yep. For ya!

He's gonna be so bloody nervous omg I can already imagine him stealing glances at you .

If you make an eye contact with him for more than five seconds .. *dham!* "Neville's fainted" Seamus would yell.

You pair's gonna look pretty cute though. He might often admire your tattoos if you get some!

The questions that you ask at 3 am are really liked by him ..! Literally.

It could be that even he felt like you didn't like him in the beginning.. or he was the only one who everyone felt you liked you since the beginning lol

I personally believe neville's gonna be one of the fastest five people in your life who'll get access to your soft side.. like real quick . You'll just vibe with him so much and so good..

Whenever our Mr.Malfoy bullies Neville , your smart wits and dry humour would help him out .

During your low days or whenever you face your worst fears (failure ,etc) he's gonna be there for you and he'll help you heal and bring your confident self back .

You being shameless flirt .. him being extremely timid ! Such an opposite match .

His love language would be words of affirmation and acts of service according to me , so yeah.. he's gonna be a real help to you!

Such a cute match!

Your bestfriend would be —

Strongly leaning towards Hermione Granger

Not you both sharing the same fears hahaha . Lol , you both would often discuss how you both fear your fears!

You wanting to become a lawyer tells me that you could be a very logical or technical thinker.. so that definitely helps Hermione and is a good match for her !

Facts aside , Hermione is super supportive when you're playing .. but I'd be ready to pay your 1000 bucks if you get her to play a sport

A nice , balanced friendship!

Your secret admirer —

Bad boy Malfoy !

Isn't it obvious? Hahahah.

It could be that he is your ex .. and still has feelings for you .. but you realised that you're meant to be with our cinnamon roll Neville!

Long story short..he messed up with your feelings and especially your fears.. causing you to brutally breakup with him .

He still has feelings for you and i don't recommend you going back with him , sorry not sorry !

I tried to add gifs in this , but it kept showing errors! So here are they :

Also , I've added an extra gif for the delay! I'm sorry for the delay!

Gifs

#tree top dreams #harry potter

4 notes · View notes

raingoup · 2 years

Text

MIB 25th Anniversary

I went to see a special showing of the first Men in Black movie in theaters. I was one of six people in the auditorium. I imagine the controversy with Will Smith earlier this year still weighs heavy on everybody's mind.

Before the movie started, there was a neat segment where the director, Barry Sonnenfeld, hyped the movie up. My two favorite tidbits were the importance of the comedy dynamic between the funny man and straight man (something that I feel a lot of comedy movies misuse these days), and Barry Sonnenfeld shutting down Tommy Lee Jones' attempts to be the funny man even though that role was already given to Will Smith, resulting in Tommy Lee Jones hating Barry Sonnenfeld for a very long time up until he saw the premiere of the movie.

I had a fun time watching the movie for the first time ever in theaters. It's not one of my favorites, in fact, compared to other movies I saw in theaters this year it's not even in my top five:

Everything Everywhere All at Once

Top Gun Maverick

Sonic The Hedgehog 2

The Bad Guys

The Batman

Despite that, it's still a good movie. It's Certainly the best of the franchise. 2 was alright. 3 and International was forgettable.

My favorite part of the film was not so much the comedy, but the visual continuity and the soundtrack. Right from the start, Danny Elfman does a great job with the opening music, immediately hooking my attention for the whole movie. Which in turn made me appreciate how well the movie ties together. There's a lot of cool visual cues that foreshadows upcoming events like the tall alien visitor, Orion, all the aliens leaving earth all of a sudden, etc. Agent K's retirement was obvious from the scene where he looks up his wife, but it was cool to realize earlier hints such as the recruitment selection and Agent D's retirement help support the character arc to its natural conclusion.

I mentioned earlier that the comedy was not my favorite part, but I still liked it and I did find myself chuckling numerous times. I knew Tommy Lee Jones interrogating the dog alien would make me laugh the most. Other highlights that also gave me a good laugh was the Dennis Rodman roast and Rosenberg saying, "Alright sweetie, let me pay the impolite driver." I couldn't help but be amused that there were two others in the auditorium who gushed at every single Will Smith quip.

The most surprising aspect I liked were the CG. They hold up well even after all these years. I'm sure the puppetry involved helped immensely. Even though this is a movie about aliens I appreciate that they don't saturate the cinematography on CG. It makes the aliens actual appearance feel all the more special.

I'm glad I got to finally see this in theaters. Even though it's not amongst my top favorites this year, I'd still say this movie is a solid 7/10. If nothing else, hearing Will Smith's "Men in Black" on the big screen was a real treat.

2 notes · View notes

i-dor-u · 2 years

Text

jean kirstein x reader; the seeds of fear.

NOTE: Hello, beloved ones, and happy Women’s History Month! Today I saw many people strolling through the city with arms full of flowers and I think that’s extraordinary. That aside, I am here to express my newfound love for Jean, and you are all welcome to join me. We are going to the moon! It also seems that my works are becoming lengthier. I think I went through all five stages of grief while writing this, though. I wonder if I had made a mistake by unleashing myself upon the world of writing. Anyway, I’m feeling very lizard-esque tonight. I am psyched to transfer mystical and reptile-like vibes to you all through this digital lifeform.

pairing: jean kirstein x gn!reader;

content warnings: angst to fluff, awkwardly executed romance, brief usage of religious terms, abundant mentions of heavy topics (death, fear, violence), reader is anxious through and through, possible spelling errors;

content synopsis: you didn’t know why someone as emotionally fragile as you had a place in the survey corps, in the claws of death itself. despite feeling like a prisoner of your own life, jean helps you realize that you had a way out this entire time; beside him.

word count: 1,988.

currently playing: susumu yokota — shinsen.

pinned blog post.

You were an observer.

But today, for the first time in a while, you ceased to mentally cruise in places where you felt invincible and came to profusely acknowledge that death has never been busier and it keeps finding strings to pull.

Strings on which your loved ones were attached.

Thus, the sound of tragedy pulsated all around you like reverberating demons, shedding blood like a hollow drumming of wings, regardless if you were listening or not. And you were finally coming to terms with the fact that death is dangerously close, staring you right in the face.

Whether you stared back at it or not.

But, much to your chagrin, you were very aware.

By no means could you wrap your head around the thought of the friends you've lost along the way of this deteriorating journey, every one of the meeting tragic ends.

Head spinning and eyelids closing to the artificial lights that lit up the cramped room, your spasming body leans against the backrest of an old, rusty and barely stable wooden chair behind a table just as fragile, all while your mind processes the incessant ramblings of soldiers moving left and right in rush hour. They were laughing, dull statements leaving their mouths as they load their heavy guns constructed for war with diligence.

None of which keeps your attention captured like the distinctive footsteps that smack the wooden floorboards with soundly creaks that appeared to vibrate under your almost defeated silhouette, pushing your body into an automatic state of awareness as you straighten your spine to look at least halfway presentable. Not that it mattered much, but the way Jean's eyes intensely searched for yours in the crowd, looking, looking and looking up and away and pressuring his tip-toes despite already being too tall wasn't something you should brush off as unimportant.

Else, you wouldn't hear the end of it.

And boy, does everything fly out the door as soon as Jean Kirstein enter a room.

"There you are. What have you been doing?"

You hear the words that escape Jean's supple lips, picking at your thoughts to find an excuse to cover up the fact that you have indeed been slacking.

You sigh, getting up from the chair to be on par with Jean.

Walking up to him, you find the courage to speak, "I slept in. It would've been embarrassing to just walk up to you and say it like that, so I strayed behind."

The tone of your voice was innocent, weak, almost like a child that feared being chastised.

"That's unlike you. What's wrong?" Jean asks attentively, his silhouette closing in on yours, and the way he gazed from above was almost of an overbearing intensity, "You should've come."

"You wouldn't have needed me in that state." You affirmed, dusting off your military overcoat.

You hated wearing that thing, but nevertheless, you had to serve someone. Or something. You didn’t quite know what, nor did you have the courage to question authority. You were a scout, yet you behaved like anything but.

Your own fear stood in the way of being able to break this vicious cycle that you were a prisoner of. And the thought of being so easily subdued kept you crawling on your knees.

Jean seems to have a meticulous mental structure of your penchant to hiding, yet he speaks in a manner that lacks any sort of judgement directed towards you, "Of course I would've needed you. I need you all the time."

Your eyes widen upon the words being delivered, and it becomes obvious that Jean had no measurement of what he had just let out.

Nevertheless, you wish you could believe him, but the lack of confidence in both his eyes and voice betrayed that desire.

Such a liar, you muse in your mind.

"Yeah, right," You scoff lightly; you ended up not placing trust in a word Jean said, but you didn't want him to feel insulted by your disbelief.

He's a commanding officer, isn't he? You didn't want to bruise the pride of that beyond repair.

You inhale, "Jean, I'm just not meant..."

"You're afraid."

And you exhale.

Eyes squinting, you struggled to grasp the oxygen that evaded your grip.

You were so abruptly exposed, with no chance to explain yourself.

All you do is grunt for a response, feeling far too emotionally cornered to be able to do more.

Despite that, you catch the power to talk by its tail, as incoherent as you felt like your words sounded, "I don't think there was a time when I wasn't."

There’s no end to the fall.

In the eye of the storm, you could only do as much as become stillness. And the rest of them?

And Jean?

They were all blessed with the strength to become one with the storm.

They were the ones to take grasp of everything you wondered of the sea, howling at the waves that should have howled back at you instead.

Lest you be forgotten.

And no matter how tightly Jean held your hand as your blood spilled in the water, no amount of lukewarm affection could fill the fear that thundered upon you in this cruel world.

You wanted it to burn.

Jean was aware of the risk his words will pose, but nevertheless, he spoke.

"You don't have to succumb into your fear."

And when your bloodshot eyes widened in opposition with your lethargic posture, you spat, "Tch."

Jean means well, you know that; but his almost naive lack of knowledge was just enough to strike a nerve.

Your eyes quiver in hidden anger, "My fear?"

Jean's eyebrows furrow upon witnessing your heavy yet awfully quiet question.

It's unlike you to show such passive-aggressiveness.

"You know nothing about my fear!"

And neither did you.

You scoff out your statement with a surprising raise of volume, already beginning to wonder what has gotten into you. You were convinced it was the same for Jean, and you asked yourself if you accidentally threw yourself into a race of how quickly you can make him hate you.

You would never want him to hate you.

But it all went by too fast.

You stop yourself from gesturing any more, overanalyzing every word said and action performed in the conversation. Instead, you looked around, only to realize that you might be the problem when meeting the parted lips, curious eyes and raised eyebrows of the scouts overhearing your outburst.

And you mentally cursed yourself above and beyond. But it was too late to back down, and the seeds of your rage have been already planted. Much like the seeds of your fear, its products already growing violently through dirt, shadows and unseen cracks, all over your heart.

All while Jean observes from above. It didn’t take long for you to feel like an exhibit.

You draw out a forceful breath, convinced there's no way in hell you could decently remove yourself from the situation now.

But luckily, Jean is an attentive man, and he walks out through the gradually swallowing darkness with your hand clasped in his, leaving the members of the audience question his movements as much as they've questioned yours.

Strolling through the hallway of a funerary silence and struggling to keep up with Jean, you followed obediently from behind, wondering why.

Why is he still here?

You thought you've made your point.

"Listen," Jean breathes out through his parted lips, "When I said that you don't have to succumb into your fear, I meant that you didn't have to battle it alone."

Listening carefully as he had requested, you eyebrows knit together, failing to understand what he was on about.

But part of you was wishful, and whatever his words meant, you wanted him to shout them out, to make you understand.

To save you from the depths your fearful heart has fallen into.

"We're all afraid. Hell, I'm scared to death. I have fears that outweigh me," Said Jean, the hoarse tone of his voice clashing with the echoes of your footsteps in the deathly empty hallway, "You said I know nothing about your fear. And you're probably right."

Jean goes on and on, and once again, you reminisced the words you shouted into his face as you spat out your hopeless rage; everything overlapped with your current thoughts, and it was difficult to tell them apart now.

Now it was just you, Jean Kirstein, and a war against all emotions.

"So help me understand."

Shout it out, you wanted to audibly beg.

"Because, if I'm going to do this thing..."

Shout it louder.

"I need to learn everything there is to be learned about you."

With a childish curiosity, you stared at him from below with big, doomed eyes.

"What thing?" You dared to ask.

Oh, wouldn't you love to know?

"Pursuing my love for you." And he dared to answer.

Love, is it?

Such an unfamiliar word, and an even more unfamiliar feeling.

But you began to progressively learn about it four years ago, when the stubborn man protecting your hand into his much sturdier one headbutted you.

And, out of retribution, you screamed into his face, who died and made you king?

That was also how you began to condemn the creator for giving you a heart you didn't understand. Though, you were convinced you were given your love before there was made a God.

"Your love... for me?" You speak in disbelief, softly, making yourself small under his warm touch.

Jean scoffs, wondering, won't you get it?

"Yes, stupid. Four damned years, and you couldn't tell?" He affirmed, the confidence in his tone taking you way back in time.

Obviously, you could tell.

But the primary question is, could he tell?

"So, kiss me, then."

Yes, four years of patience.

While it was not the time or the place for him to steal a kiss while you're lost in the mist, Jean sees your proposal as a challenge.

And if love truly is a game, he'll win every time he'll play it.

Jean stops abruptly and your body crashes against his own. Your sight cruises into his, pairs of eyes gazing into each other so profoundly, almost caught up in a ritual of sweet lovemaking. You begin to wonder when will your bodies catch up; you dreamt of a touch of love like the warmth of sun rays entering through glassed windows on its tippy-toes. Like an endless reminder of him, the man who, in your vision, was all about strolls through the forest, nights by the fire and deadpan stares from across the table.

And Jean kisses you, unannounced, unafraid, untamed.

The manner in which his lips clashed against yours showed no sign of reluctance or remorse. It was like he has done it a million times before and like he'll do it a billion more after. He seems to absorb you with each slight partition and anticipated reconnection of your lips, and you felt like the arrival of tomorrow won't rain upon you ever again. Time was no longer real where you had landed, and even less when Jean's hands found place somewhere, anywhere on your body. He was so goddamned close, and you'd beg for him to come closer, to drill that love into you like he had claimed he will. Someday.

But it was still too early, and you had only accepted the thought when his lips separate from your own for the night. However, when his forehead presses against yours, basking in the rising temperature you had bestowed upon his body, you realized he wasn't going anywhere away from you.

No way in hell and never again.

And he'll dig the seeds of fear out of your blooming garden with his bare hands if he'd learned that it will put you at ease.

Because, in his vision, you deserved no less and infinitely more.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan jean #jean kirschtein #❲⌕❳ loading maze...

158 notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

house hunting

A/n: hello!! I’ve been having a mad case of writers block, so @goldenbluesuit‘s list of prompts was posted just in time! Thank you and i hope you all enjoy!! thank u @harryysstyless and @nationalharryleague for looking this over also :) Love u guyssss!

summary: newly engaged y/n and harry realize they have very different tastes in homes when they begin house hunting!!!

warnings: smut

word count: ~3.3k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

With all the joys that came with being engaged, there was a good deal of logistics that you hadn’t even thought of when you excitedly told Harry, “Duh, of course, I’ll marry you!” just four short months ago. Should you wed in the fall or wait until the spring? Outdoors or indoors? These were things that you and Harry went back and forth about most nights, cuddled in bed next to each other before drifting off to sleep.

Something you were most excited about, though, was finally owning a home with Harry. You practically lived together as it was, seeing that you were at his place most nights. Still, his home wasn’t yours—you were reminded every time you had to grab something forgotten from your apartment. Or when he was away for work and you couldn’t bear to be in his large, empty house by yourself.

So while you already knew each other’s grossest habits, (Harry loved asking you to pop his back pimples) you didn’t yet own a home together. Sadly, house hunting was turning out to be a less-than-joyous task when you and Harry were looking for completely different things.

“I jus’ think we’re cottage-style people… that’s all,'' your fiancé’s hand rests on your thigh while you wait in his car for the real estate agent to arrive. “This one’s nice, yeah, but is it who we are?”

You refrain from rolling your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because they remind you of home.”

“So? They’re lovely,” he sounds a little defensive, but not mad. Your response to Harry is interrupted as the real estate agent pulls into the driveway.

“Be nice,” you remind him as you open your door to let yourself out. “I understand the Craftsman isn’t your first choice, but she worked hard to find this place for us. At least go into it with an open mind.”

Your fiancé mutters something under his breath, but you know he’ll behave himself––he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Harry’s demeanor immediately changes once the real estate agent is within earshot, turning on his signature English charm. “Thank you for meeting my fiancée and me today. We’re both very excited to check out this lovely home.”

Since you’re privy to the reality of the situation, you can tell he’s laying it on a bit thick, but your agent is loving it. “You’ll both fall in love, I know it,” she begins her ascent up the long driveway and you and Harry follow behind hand-in-hand. “Six bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, and nearly twenty thousand square feet. You can’t beat it.”

Harry seems unphased by the enormous size of the house, but your breath hitches in your throat. Did the two of you actually need this much room? The house appeared to be even bigger than the one Harry owned now––you knew you would hate staying here when he was away for work except this time, you wouldn’t have a quaint apartment and a roommate to go back to when you were feeling lonely.

“H, ‘s kinda big…” you’re trying to speak quietly enough so the real estate agent doesn’t hear you. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“What’s tha’? We haven’t even gotten inside, love,” Harry stops walking to give you his full attention. “You don’t like it?”

“Just the driveway by itself is enormous,” you feel your cheeks growing warm. “I would be too scared to stay here by myself.”

Harry hums in agreement. “Can we have just a moment, please?” He sweetly turns to face the real estate agent who insists you take your time, walking farther up the driveway to give the two of you privacy.

“We’ve not seen the inside, doll. Gotta at least do that,” Harry’s hands run along your bare arms. “‘Member what you jus’ told me? Let’s go into it with an open mind. Don’t have to place an offer on it or anything.”

“Okay…” you’re reluctant and Harry can tell, but neither one of you want to be rude to the real estate agent. “You’re right. I guess it doesn’t hurt to just check it out.”

Harry gives you a dimpled grin. “Y’never know. Might fall in love with it, puppy,” Harry leans in so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. “Besides, think of all the rooms we’d get to have a shag in if we moved in here.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I hate it.”

“What’s there to hate? Look at how cozy it is.”

“Don’t like the color.”

“It’s nothing to slap a fresh coat of paint on the outside.”

You open your mouth and then close it in defeat. He wasn’t wrong. You let Harry lead you around the perimeter of the house while you wait for your real estate agent to arrive to let you in—Harry’s animatedly talking about all the renovations that can be done to upgrade the house (even stating he could do some of them himself) and deep down you know this is the house you will end up living in.

“So sorry I’m late,” the agent’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “There was an accident on the 405–made traffic a nightmare.”

“No worries at all,” Harry says cheerily. “We’re just excited to get inside and take a look at this place. It’s gorgeous.”

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Really? I agree that it’s a beautiful home, but I thought it would be your last choice given it’s on the smaller side.”

“How many bedrooms?” You change the subject, gazing at the house in front of you. You thought it was rather large, but to each their own.

“Five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms.”

You glance over at your fiancé, who appeared to be deep in thought—he was most likely calculating if five bedrooms would be enough to host friends and family who came to visit.

“That’s perfect,” he says after a moment, squeezing your hand in excitement. “We’d love to get inside.”

The real estate agent mutters a quiet, “please, follow me” to which you and Harry oblige. She leads you up a gorgeous cobblestone pathway that ends at weathered brick stairs. Harry lightly placed his hands on your waist as you ascended the three steps, knowing you tended to be on the clumsy side.

“Porch is nice, innit?” Harry says to you, lowering his gaze so he’s looking square in your eyes. “I can see us ‘avin a cup of coffee in the mornin’ while lookin’ out at the street.”

Your husband-to-be was trying to sell you on the home more than your real estate agent was––you weren’t mad at it. You simply hum in agreement, not wanting to fully give into Harry just yet.

The real estate agent unlocks the door and ushers the both of you ahead of her, wiping her feet on the mat before entering the home. It was beautiful. The floor plan was open, the living room flowing easily into the kitchen which led into the dining room. Large windows let in plenty of natural sunlight, which you know Harry appreciated.

You listen attentively as the real estate agent gives her typical spiel, informing you about the history of the house (and how all the wood fixtures were original). Harry is long gone, tucked away in some other part of the house, most likely examining the crown molding or something of the sort.

“...because the floor plan is so open, it’s the perfect space for entertaining.”

“So true,” you respond politely, looking around the space. “I was just thinking that. I’m sure Harry would agree... wherever he ran off to.”

“He’s a fan of this one, I take it?” She’s walking again, leading you to the back of the house.

“Oh, definitely. He’s been telling me we’re “cottage people” to warm me up to the idea of moving in here.”

“Is it working?”

You let out a quiet giggle. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Babe, come look at this bedroom. S’gonna be ours!” Harry calls out to you from deeper in the house and you furrow your brows as you try to determine what room he ducked into.

“Where are you, love?”

“‘M in here!”

You roll your eyes at how Harry did nothing to clarify his exact location for you, but you quickly figure it out, anyway. While the house was large, it was nowhere as big as some places you’ve already looked at which you appreciated.

Once reunited with Harry, he immediately reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. The bedroom you’re now standing in has floor-to-ceiling windows, an adjoining bathroom, and even a fireplace. It was stunning.

“This room is nice,” you say quietly, leaning into his touch. Harry nods.

“S’our room. Can’t you just picture us sleepin’ in here? Relaxin’?” He leans in close to your ear. “Fuckin’?”

A shiver immediately runs through your body at your fiancé’s vulgarity, but you try your best to play off your reaction as you turn to face the real estate agent. “Let’s see the rest of the place, yeah?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

No one warned you about how much work went into actually closing on a home.

It was a long process. You were glad you had Harry, who had financial advisors, to help you close on the deal. You and Harry ended up going with the cottage home, of course, which ultimately was the best choice for what the two of you needed at the moment.

Waiting to move in seemed like it took a lifetime, even though it was only a couple weeks. Your apartment was a mess of boxes and packing tape, and you were glad you had your roommate to help you gather the things you still had left there (since you had basically already moved in with Harry as it was).

When the day finally came to move all your boxes into your new home, you were more than ready to get it over with. You weren’t sure how Harry could remain in such high spirits engaging in such an arduous task (you were honestly feeling quite crabby), so you let Harry deal with the movers lest you accidentally lose your cool and snap at someone. He kept offering to help them move things, feeling guilty for just standing around while they heaved your extensive amount of belongings around, but they kept insisting they were fine. Your fiancé opted to contribute by going to the kitchen and making them lemonade and little sandwiches, instead.

“We have a lot of stuff, don’t we?” Harry glances up at you as you walk into the kitchen, a mischievous look on his face.

“What’s this we? Pretty sure they’re struggling to carry your things around, not mine,” you snake your arms around Harry’s waist. “Maybe we can have a garage sale? Get to know some neighbors too, hmm?”

“Weird to sell Gucci at a garage sale, innit?” Harry cuts a sandwich into four perfect triangles and sets them beside him on a platter he must’ve dug out of some box. You shrug.

“I’m sure you’re not the only person in this neighborhood who can afford Gucci.”

Harry hums in response, continuing to slather spread onto the sandwiches he was making. “Can you go offer these to the movers? Ask ‘em if they want lemonade or water, too.” He tilts his head toward the tray on the other side of the counter and you reach around him to grab it.

“Look at you makin’ everyone snacks and whatnot. So domestic,” you tease, grabbing Harry’s cheek and pinching firmly. “It’s getting me all hot.”

“Yeah?” He questions, going along with your playful pestering. “Y’like it?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” you coo, giving him bedroom eyes. Harry throws his head back, letting out a loud guffaw. You exit the kitchen and go from person to person, kindly offering them sandwiches which they are more than happy to accept.

The movers finish a couple of hours later, your beautiful home still just as beautiful, but now a myriad of boxes and trash bags. The two of you had absolutely no furniture yet, seeing as Harry wanted to buy everything new instead of bringing the furniture from his old home for reasons you were still unsure of.

Harry settled on making the two of you sandwiches for supper, seeing as that was the only food you had in the entire house, and neither one of you felt like running to the store to buy anything else. He pours two tall glasses of lemonade before carefully walking to where you sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room.

“Our new home...,” Harry trails off, looking around the cluttered space. “The first thing that’s ours.”

“I could cry,” you reply, voice slightly shaky. “Like, it’s just so surreal. We can really decorate however we want and celebrate holidays–”

“Gonna fight wif’ each other ‘n love on each other,” he adds. “Grow old with each other... so happy you’re all mine and ‘m all yours.”

Your heart swells at Harry’s words. He can always tell when you’re growing emotional––he knows you better than anyone else, after all––and he quickly moves closer to you, pulling you into his side. Neither one of you says anything, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You opt to bask in each other’s company and the comfortable silence that fills the dim living room. Out of the corner of your eye you notice Harry scoot the food and drinks out of the way before he pulls you fully into his lap.

“I can’t wait for all of it,” you wrap your arms around his neck, sucking lightly on the area where the skin of his jaw trails into his neck. “Can’t wait to have it all with you.”

“Know what ‘m lookin’ forward to the most?” You hum. “Lookin’ forward to the baby makin’.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at Harry’s admission. Sure, you’ve discussed children before––you were getting married! Still, he catches you off-guard.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm,” his hand slowly makes its way underneath your shirt, loving how he already had you squirming under him.

“I’ve got it,” you mumble quietly, moving away from him. You expertly unclasp your bra and fling it out of the way, letting it join the rest of the mess that litters the floor of your home.

“This is really the first place we’re gonna shag in, then?” Harry asks breathlessly, sucking roughly against your collarbone.

You shrug your shoulders before moving to tangle your hands in Harry’s hair. “The entire house is a mess, this is as good a spot as any.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he mutters, trailing his hands down your body until he gets to your bottom. He easily shimmies your tight leggings down your legs, having done this many, many times before. “Gonna help me christen every room in this house, angel?”

“Yeah,” you’re quick to respond. You wish there was more kissing and less talking going on, but your arrogant fiancé loved two things: teasing you, and the sound of his own voice. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Where do ya want that kiss?”

“Get your mind outta the gutter,” you plead, tilting your head to the side so Harry can access your neck easier. “My lips.”

You know what Harry’s going to say before he says it. “Which ones?”

“H, come on,” you whine, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck. “Gimmie one.”

Harry finally gives into your requests and presses his lips delicately against yours, humming in pleasure as he feels you sink deeper into the kiss. “I’m messin’ with ya, Y/N. I could never pass on givin’ ya a kiss.”

“I’m glad,” you answer triumphantly, shamelessly stealing another kiss from him.

“Gonna go all the way with me on our living room floor? Dirty girl, you are,” Harry says quietly, gently removing you from his lap. He helps you lay back on the floor, but not before bunching up your leggings for you to use as a pillow.

“All good?”

“Mmm,” you reach up for him, wanting to feel his lips against yours once again. He doesn’t give in so easily—not this time. Harry allows you to take his plump upper lip into your mouth before pulling away just out of your reach. You let out a pitiful whimper which causes Harry to puff out his chest, his ego getting the best of him.

“Gonna make ya feel so good,” he says quietly, rubbing his palm against your core. Your underwear was still on and you knew he was approximately four seconds away from ripping them off.

“I know,” you answer quickly. “I know, H.”

“You sound impatient.”

“I just wanna get on with it.”

Harry sits back on his heels. “What’s tha’ rush? Jus’ us, yeah? Jus’ me?”

“I need it,” you say under your breath. You were usually quite vocal in bed with Harry, but something about the way his gaze fixed on you had butterflies fluttering all-around your stomach.

“What do you need?” Harry taps your bum while he’s saying this, signaling for you to lift yourself slightly off the ground so he can get them around your ankles.

“I need you in me,” you whisper. You knew he knew exactly where you needed him, but you’d stroke his ego a bit if it meant he’d fuck you just how you wanted him to. “Hard. F-fast.”

“I can manage that,” he cheekily replies, giving his hard cock three tugs before pressing himself to your entrance. “Don’t want me to eat ya out or summat?”

“No,” you answer entirely too quickly. “Please just fuck me, H-”

He understands just how needy and desperate you are now and wastes no more time, swiftly entering your tight cunt like he was made just for you. Your body always molded together so perfectly––no one knew you better than he did. When you were really pressed for time, he could get you off in less than five minutes. Although his pace is relentless tonight though, there is no rush.

You felt full in such a way that only Harry could make happen. You let out a loud moan as he moves your leg ever so slightly to angle you in such a way that he knew would hit your spongy walls deep inside of you.

“Y’like it? Like me fuckin’ into ya like this?”

“Love it,” you moan breathlessly, reaching to cradle your tits. Harry raises his eyebrows, pace faltering slightly.

“What are you bein’ so quiet for? S’no one here except us,” he reaches in between your sweaty bodies to flick your clit. “Can feel you clenchin’ ‘round me–are you gonna come, puppy? Come around my cock?”

His teasing is all it takes for you to cum around him, clenching down so tightly that it takes a surprising deal of strength for him to keep moving. Harry follows shortly behind you, letting out an animalistic groan that sounds downright filthy. In that moment, you were glad that there was no one else in the house because if there was, they definitely would’ve heard you and Harry coming down from your respective highs together. He speaks after a moment, chest still heaving.

“One room down, the rest of the house to go.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

as always, please let me know what you thought here!

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic

1K notes · View notes

skyeet-the-writer · 4 years

Text

The Love Among Us

Chapter 1-- I’d Never Snitch On Daddy

so i haven’t seen many corpse husband x reader stories on here, so i decided to upload one myself. i’ve been watching jacksepticeye’s among us videos and when i heard corpse talk for the first time, i was like, “hol up” and now i’ve been obsessed with him. also, go stream his music on spotify, it’s amazing. enjoy! x.

corpse husband x female!reader

summary: while playing among us, y/n watches corpse kill felix in o2. when his body is reported, however, she doesn’t tell who killed him.

word count: ~3.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of death (not real death), mentions of murder (not real murder)

EDIT: before i wrote this and after i published it, i did not know that corpse did not like to be referred to as “daddy”. had i known this, i would have not even thought of posting this. and since i know now, i won’t refer to him as such in the future. thank you. (10/19/2020)

EDIT 2: this is the first part to my corpse x reader series. i will be adding chapters as we go!

next>

4 rounds before the incident

“I was in coms with PJ!” Sean exclaims.

“He is doing the liar voice!” Felix shouts with a laugh.

“I’m not,” Sean tries to say, but everyone talks over him and the voting time ends. Everyone left alive, though it was only four people, had all voted for him and he yells at them as he gets ejected.

stinky was not the imposter

2 imposters remain

The round ends and everyone unmutes themselves.

“Lizzie, you saw Felix kill me and you did nothing!” Roomie yells as soon as the round ends and the imposters are revealed.

“Yeah, because I was the other imposter.”

“Oh. Okay, well that makes sense.”

Everyone laughs and Ken starts the round again.

“Wait, can I invite y/n to play? She’s doing her twenty-four-hour stream and she just finished playing Monopoly with Mark, Bob, and Wade,” says Lizzie, looking down at her phone as they all appear back in the waiting room.

“Yes,” Corpse blurts out and there are a few laughs and chuckles.

“You were quick to answer, Corpse,” Sean teases.

“Shut up,” Corpse mumbles and there are even more laughs.

Lizzie smiles and taps into her phone. “I’m gonna invite her.”

“I can’t believe that you actually made that deal, y/n,” Wade is telling you after ending the second round of Monopoly that you’ve played with them.

You smile and cross your legs on your chair. “Look, I was going bankrupt and it seemed good at the time. Besides, Mark was going to win anyway, he owned half of the board.” Your phone buzzes beside you on your desk and you pick it up. “Lizzie texted me.” There’s a sound effect that plays in your headset and you look up at your screen and smile. “Thanks to _lorieplays _for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot. Thank you so much.”

“Do you want to play another round?” Marks asks.

You shake your head, reading the text from your friend in England. “No, I don’t want to lose to you again.” You laugh. “Nah, Lizzie wants me to play Among Us with her and a few others. It was fun playing with you guys.”

“It was even though you took all of my money,” Bob snaps.

You laugh. “Yeah, yeah. See you guys later.”

“Bye,” says Mark.

“See y--” Wade begins but you cut him off when you disconnect from the call.

“Oops.” You put a hand over your mouth and laugh. “Sorry, Wade. Okay.” You straighten up and glance over everything, making sure it’s all working properly. “I have to pee and I think my roommate ordered pizza, so we’ll be back after this short break. Enjoy this live feed of my pet rats.” You giggle and switch the stream over to a view of your two rats in their cage where you have a camera set up. You take your headset off and head out of your recording room.

Every two months, you have a twenty-four-hour livestream where you play games with your friends from all around the world. Despite being only twenty-five, your Youtube channel had grown exponentially in the past three years and you’ve had the chance to meet lots of other Youtubers like Markiplier, PewDiePie, and your close friend, LDShadowLady.

Currently, you’re on hour twenty of twenty-four and you’re beginning to feel the effects of not sleeping for a whole day. You had been drinking coffee and energy drinks for the past four hours and that seemed to perk you up for two hours max. But your roommate had ordered pizza and that would hopefully wake you up.

After going to the bathroom and grabbing an entire box of pizza, you return to your recording room and sit down. You put your headset back on and eat a slice of pizza before switching the views back to you. “And we’re back. I hope you guys enjoyed my rats because I don’t. They keep me up at night.”

You read a comment while loading up Among Us and laugh. “No, they’re not dead. They’re sleeping. They do that a lot when they’re not fighting.”

When you finally get into the game and entire the code, you spawn in. You also quickly join the Discord chat and wince when nearly ten voices hit you at once.

“y/n!” exclaims Lizzie and the other voices die down for a moment before rising to greet you.

You wince again but laugh. “Jesus, you guys are loud. Hey, Lizzie.” You move your character to the customize tab and go to try and switch your color. But then you frown and realize that you’re stuck with being dark blue. “Damn, I wanted to be white.”

“Do you want to switch?” Corpse asks.

Your eyes widen you your stomach flips. You hadn’t noticed Corpse was in this game. Immediately, your chat became flooded with keyboard smashing and lots of “omg my shipp” and “y/n rlly said ‘anna oop-’”

“Uh, yeah, if you don’t mind,” you manage to stutter out and take a bite of pizza as Corpse’s player comes over and the white option becomes available. You select it and also select the goggles in the hats menu.

“How’s your stream going?” asks Sean.

You shrug. “Pretty good. I’m super tired, though. I literally almost fell asleep while playing Monopoly with Mark, Wade, and Bob.”

“You went to college, right?” You’re pretty sure that’s Roomie.

“Yep,” you affirm with a nod even though they can’t see you. “You’d think that those all-nighters writing papers and studying for finals would make me able to do this.”

There’s a laugh in the group and the round starts.

3 rounds before the incident

You scratch your eyebrow and sigh in relief when you’re the crewmate. You mute yourself and slide up in your chair.

“I like being the crewmate,” you say, heading towards admin as a habit. “It’s a lot less stressful than being imposter.”

After doing your tasks in admin and fueling the engines, you stumble across a dead body in the lower engine and a vent closing.

“Oh,” you say, and press the report button. You unmute yourself and begin with, “So I saw a vent close but I didn’t see who went in.”

“Who died?” asks Lizzie.

“Felix,” says Sean.

You smirk. “It’s always yellow that dies first.”

“Where was the body?” Ken asks.

“Lower engine,” you reply.

“I was in medbay with Corpse doing the scan so it wasn’t him,” PJ says and Corpse makes a noise of confirmation.

This makes your cheeks heat up and you smack a hand over your mouth. Your chat explodes again but you decide to ignore it.

“And I was doing wires in cafeteria,” Lizzie says.

“Sean, where were you?”

“I was in reactor doing the simon says thing,” he answers.

You sigh. “I hate that one. What about you, Ken?”

“I was with Roomie in electrical doing the power thing. You know, the one where you have to divert it somewhere else.”

“So do we skip then?” asks Lizzie.

“No one is super sus, so I’m going to skip,” you answer.

When no one is ejected, you mute yourself again. “I dunno why, but Sean seems pretty sus. Because I didn’t see him on the way down from upper engine. But I guess he could have gotten there in time.” You shrug and run over to the trash chute in the cafeteria. “RIP to Felix, though.”

After doing the trash there, you head down to storage, running into Corpse doing the wires in there. You wait there to clear him and once you do, you run a few circles around him to get his attention and he follows you over to the trash in storage and watches you do that. After that, the two of you head over to electric together and do wires there.

Suddenly, there’s a body reported and you unmute yourself.

“Sean just killed Lizzie in front of me!” exclaims PJ.

“PJ killed Lizzie,” Sean retorts, flipping the blame. “I watched it, he didn’t realize I was there and murdered her.”

“I watched PJ do the scan in medbay, he’s cleared,” Corpse says and you find yourself smiling for no reason. “Sean, you killed Lizzie.”

“I knew he was sus,” you say, grabbing another piece of pizza. You look at the box and your eyes widen. Had you really already eaten half of it?

“Wait wait, how am I sus?” Sean asks.

You take a moment to swallow. “Because when I was doing fuel earlier, I was running down from upper engine and didn’t see you in reactor. Sure, maybe you could have gotten there earlier, but it was super weird.”

The discussion time ends and PJ immediately goes to vote for Sean as well as you, Corpse, and everyone else still alive. Sean ends up getting ejected.

stinky was an imposter

1 imposter remains

“You’re such a detective, y/n,” Sean says when he gets ejected.

You laugh. “I just play this game too much.” You then mute yourself and smile. “I am a genius.”

You end up finishing your tasks quickly after that and then stand in the cafeteria and eat another piece of pizza and read some of the chat.

“’ What am I going to do after this?’ I don’t know. I might play some Minecraft. Should I have a poll on Twitter? I’m stuck between public Among Us games, Minecraft, and taking random quizzes on Buzzfeed.” You smile and hear another sound effect and something pops up on the screen. “Thank you to coochie man for donating a hundred dollars, that means a lot.” You laugh at their name. “I love your name, by the way.”

There’s some rattling in the cage behind you and you turn around to see one of your rats drinking water. You turn back to the chat and read another comment. “’ Do you have a crush on Corpse?’” You blush and smile, biting your lip. “I mean, his voice is hot. I’ve never met him since he lives in San Diego and I live in h/t, but yeah, I guess I do. I’ve been listening to his music for the past few days and it’s really good, you guys should go check it out.”

You look up and unmute yourself when a body is reported. “Who died?” you ask. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Are you already done with your tasks, y/n?” Corpse asks.

God, even the way he says your name is making you blush. “Yeah, I get them done quick.”

“She does that,” says Lizzie, “She always gets her tasks done quick.”

“Ken is dead by the way,” says Roomie and your snort, smacking a hand over your mouth. “I found him in the hallway by navigation. Where was everyone else?”

“I was in cafeteria doing nothing,” you say, leaning back in your chair and spinning around just a little. “I think I saw PJ downloading while I was in there, but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Yeah, I was downloading,” says Ken.

After more discussion, Corpse points out that Jaiden had been following him and it looked like she had been faking tasks.

“No I haven’t,” she says.

“That sounds like something the imposter would say,” you hum with a smirk. “That’s pretty sus, Jaiden.”

Everyone else agrees and you all end up voting Jaiden out.

jaiden was the imposter

0 imposters remain

You cheer as the round ends and a blue victory screen pops up for the crewmates. “Good game, guys,” you say and play again, waiting for the host.

1 round before the incident

“Oh my god, I’m imposter again?” you groan and sigh when you spawn back in. “I was just imposter, I don’t want to be it again. I’m so bad at it,”

After another short round of you and Felix losing to the crewmates, you all agreed to play two more rounds before Sean had to leave. So you move your character to admin where PJ is and fake the card swipe before moving over to the admin security thing where you could see who was around where. Luckily, no one appeared to be near admin, so you quickly kill PJ and escape through the vent and come out through medbay.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you whisper over and over, running down to storage. “That was clean.” You fake getting fuel and go back up to the upper engine.

When PJ’s body is reported, you see that your fellow imposter, Sean, had reported it. You stay silent for most of the round and only say that you were in the fuel area when it was reported.

“Yeah, I saw her run past electrical earlier,” Corpse says. You blush and glance at your exploding chat and shake your head.

After everyone skips the round, you mute yourself once more and head towards navigation. “I hate this.” You drag the last syllable and watch Lizzie enter the room. You wait a moment before walking towards her and killing her, jumping into one of the vents. You let out a sigh and flex your fingers. “I’m so stressed.” You exit out of the vent into shields and your heart stops when you see someone else in there but you realize that it’s the other imposter, Sean, and you relax.

You run past him and go to the trash compartments and pretend to unload those. And that’s how the rest of the round goes. You kill someone, someone reports it and you vote someone off. Eventually, you and Sean do a double kill and end up winning the round.

You unmute yourself.

“Let’s go!” Sean exclaims and you smile.

“I can’t believe you killed me, y/n!” shouts Lizzie. “I thought we were friends.”

You laugh. “There are no friends in this game. I’m not loyal to anyone in this game. You could be my best friend and I would fucking murder you.”

“That’s cold,” says Roomie as everyone else spawns back in.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Wait, PJ disconnected,” says Sean, and you all end up waiting for him to rejoin.

In that time, you look at your chat and say, “Hey, do you guys have any questions for who I’m playing with. I’m asking you, chat.”

“I swear if someone asks about my hands, I’m leaving,” Corpse says and everyone laughs.

You laugh louder when you read a comment and read it aloud, “_Ironlady _says that you should be a hand model, Corpse.”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” you hear Corpse say over everyone laughing.

“No, stay!” you exclaim, trying not to laugh. “C’mon, don’t leave.”

He sighs deeply and your brain goes fuzzy. “Fine. I’ll stay for you.”

You beam and your tummy turns. You ignore the whistles and remarks from everyone else and stand beside Corpse. You suddenly wish that the little bean characters could hold hands.

When PJ joins the server again, Ken starts the round and you cross your fingers, hoping to get crewmate.

0 rounds before the incident

You mute yourself and sigh when you’re a crewmate. “Thank god.” You let out a breath and go over to admin with everyone else. You swipe your card and go to the cafeteria to do some wires there.

The game turns out to be rather uneventful. A few people die and two people are voted off before the game gets truly interesting. And that happens when you walk in on Corpse and Felix.

“I’ve had this song stuck in my head for days,” you’re saying, walking from electrical over to O2. “And I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe singing it will help.” You hum the first part. “Don't go in there, you'll become one. Freaky creatures, monster party. Eyes of yellow, scales and feathers, tails in tethers. Turn the lights off. Bend the nightmare, you control it. Artful dodger, easy does it. Shut the closet, get under the covers. Snakes and lovers. Turn the lights off.” You do a little dance for a moment and continue hum the song, glancing at the chat as you go towards O2 after doing wires in storage.

“Like, I know the song, it’s just been stuck in my head,” you explain. “And it kind of annoys me--”

But you stop as you enter O2 and watch Corpse murder Felix. Neither one of you move and you don’t know what to do. “Uhhh.”

Then, without thinking, you turn straight around and make your way away from the scene of the murder. “I didn’t see anything!” you shout to no one. “I suddenly can’t see who murdered Felix.” You smack a hand over your mouth and stand in the middle of a hallway. “Oh my god, what do I do? I don’t want to snitch on Corpse, he’s hot.” You scratch the back of your neck and shrug, continuing on to reactor. “I didn’t see anything.”

You’re in the middle of doing the simon says in reactor when Felix’s body is reported. You unmute yourself and fidget with the sleeve of your hoodie. You know exactly who killed Felix.

“--was in O2,” says Jaiden and you focus back into the conversation. “And I didn’t see anyone around.”

“I saw you heading that way, y/n, but I know it wasn’t you because I saw you do the trash in storage.”

You look at the screen when Sean talks to you and you chew your lip. “I know who killed Felix.”

“Who?” asks almost everyone at the same time.

You close your eyes and swallow. It’s just a game, why are you taking this so seriously? Suddenly, a song lyric pops into your head and your stomach flips. You imagine yourself saying it and no one knows who you mean except for him.

You open your eyes. “I’d never snitch on daddy.”

There’s a laugh in the chat and you blush fiercely, your livestream chat blowing up once again.

“I think we know who it is, then,” says Sean, laughing.

“Yeah,” agrees Lizzie and your eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” you ask, watching everyone vote almost as soon as the discussion time ends. “Wait, hang on, who--”

“We know who you’re talking about, y/n,” PJ tells you.

You vote for yourself and your brain goes blank as you see that everyone voted for Corpse. He even voted for himself. They knew. They all _knew _about your feelings for Corpse.

The round ends with Corpse being voted out and the crewmates win. There’s some talking, but you stay on the victory screen. You’re trying to decide if your mad or embarrassed or both.

“I didn’t know you’d say that, y/n,” Corpse says, effectively breaking you out of your trance. “I thought you were gonna snitch on me.”

“You heard her,” teases Lizzie and you can tell she’s grinning. “She’d never snitch on you, Corpse.”

He laughs and you feel something in a certain place. “Oh my god, I’m gonna die of embarrassment.” You put your face in your hands, listening to your friends tease you in the chat. You suddenly want to jump out your window and run into traffic.

“Don’t die,” comes Corpse’s voice through the onslaught of teasing. “I’ll be sad.”

“Fuck!” you shout and slam your hand on your desk, shaking your equipment and scaring your rats. “I’m so sorry, Corpse, that was really weird, I--”

“Stop.” He interrupts you and the chat goes silent and you look up at the screen even though you can’t see him. “It’s okay. It was funny.”

Your eyes widen and then narrow. Funny? He thought what you said was funny? How could he think it was funny?

But then he speaks again and he sounds oddly flustered. “Uh, I gotta go. Um, it was fun playing with you guys. Bye, y/n.”

“Bye Cor--” but then he disconnects and you’re left talking to no one. “--pse.”

There’s a long moment of silence until Felix breaks it. “I can’t believe you just watched me die and didn’t do anything about it.”

There are some laughs and you smile faintly, rejoining the game. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that.”

“Are you okay, y/n?” asks Lizzie.

You blush and swallow. “I don’t know. God, I’m so weird.” You run a hand through your hair and adjust your headphones

“No, you’re not,” Roomie assures you. “He has a crush on you, too.”

Your eyes widen and you scoot up in your chair. “He does?”

“I mean, he called you pretty once during a game and said that he watches your videos a lot, so maybe.”

You groan and sink in your chair. “I’m gonna go, I need to run into traffic now.”

A few people laugh or chuckle and Lizzie asks you if you’re actually going to leave.

“Yeah,” you tell her. “But not to run into traffic. I’m going to go play Minecraft to soothe myself.”

“Aw.” You can practically hear her frown. “Okay. Bye, y/n.”

“Good luck with your stream,” Ken tells you.

You grin. “Okay, thanks, bye.”

When you exit the game and leave the chat, you scream. You actually scream and it’s loud. Your roommate even knocks on your door, asking if you’re okay.

You look at them and nod. “Yeah, totally fine. Probably about to have a mental breakdown, but I’m fine.”

“Okay,” they say and lean on the doorframe. “But I’m not cutting bangs for you again.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, okay, fine.” They leave and you turn back to your stream, feeling like you’re about to cry. Corpse knows you have a crush on him. And it seems like he has one on you as well, but now you’re embarrassed because you called him ‘daddy’ on stream.

You rub your eyes. “Well, now I know what’ll be streaming on Twitter tonight,” you tell the chat.

#corpse_husband #corpse husband #x reader #female reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse_husband x reader #jacksepticeye #among us #ldshadowlady #pewdiepie #fanfic

5K notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex,

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes - got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you.

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different.

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap.

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #dark katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere katsuki #Yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #tw.noncon

1K notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

i don’t need your help ~ jace herondale;shadowhunters

word count: 2524

request?: yes!

“Alec Lightwood or Jace Herondale (either one works) smut? If you're comfortable with writing for shadowhunters, ofc <3″

description: after a run in with a demon that almost turns bad, a fight between her and one of her fellow shadowhunters turns into something so much more

pairing: jace herondale x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, smut

masterlist (one, two)

Izzy helped me limp into the Institute, my body feeling run down and exhausted already. She laid me down on a bed and it took me a moment to register that it was my own bed. I was aching all over, but I tried to keep a brave face. At least, I thought I was keeping a brave face. For all I knew I was sobbing like a baby.

“I’ll get my stele,” she told me. “Just...just stay awake, okay?”

I tried to respond but it came out as a pained moan instead. Izzy quickly raced from my room to her own. I could hear her in the distance furiously looking for here stele. I tried to stay awake but my eyes were starting to grow heavy and my head was lulling back against the pillow under me. The thought of drifting off into unconsciousness felt like the best idea I had ever had in that moment.

I heard someone at the door and thought it was Izzy coming back. When I looked up, I saw it was Jace standing in my doorway. His face was pale and he was staring at me in horror. I could only imagine how awful I looked.

“(Y/N),” he breathed. He quickly raced to my side and pulled his stele out. “What the hell happened to you?”

“She had a run in with a demon while she was alone,” Izzy responded, appearing at Jace’s side. “I got there just in time. Can you help me draw healing ruins? She’s going to need a few.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

The slight burn of Jace’s stele touching my arm caused me to let out a yelp of pain. He looked at me with sympathy as he continued to draw the healing Rune. Izzy moved to my other side and started drawing a Rune there too. It hurt as they were drawing them, but I felt a numbness wash over my body as the Rune started to take effect.

Jace started to stroke my hair after drawing another ruin on me. He looked down at me, his face full of concern. “Rest while the ruins do their work, (Y/N).”

Getting Jace’s permission to finally rest felt like a blessing, and within seconds I was passed out.

~~~~~~

I wasn’t sure how long I was out. When I woke up again, my head still felt heavy and my vision was spinning a little. I tried to lift my head to look around, but it felt like someone had poured nails into my head and shaken it. I groaned and laid back down again, raising my hand to put it on my forehead. I realized then that the pain had completely left my body, except for the headache I had, and I felt good as new again.

“How long have I been out?” I asked, turning my head to see who had stayed with me while I was unconscious. I knew either Jace or Izzy had. They weren’t going to leave me when I was in such rough condition.

Through the slight darkness of my room, I could make out the figure sitting down as Jace. I was slightly shocked to see that Jace was the one who had stayed. Despite his caring and concerned nature when Izzy had first brought me home, the two of us weren’t exactly close. We didn’t hate each other or anything, but we were constantly fighting and he irritated the hell out of me. I didn’t think his kindness would extend to staying with me while I was unconscious.

“A few hours,” he responded. “It’s 2am now, you got back around 8 or 9pm I think.”

I groaned. “I definitely feel like I’ve been out for five or six hours.”

“What were you thinking?” Jace questioned, rising from his seat. “Facing a demon alone? You were lucky that Izzy had known where you were or else you definitely wouldn’t have been feeling as good as you do now.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” I muttered. “For your information, I didn’t go out with the intentions of facing a demon alone. I was just out and I got cornered by a demon that knew I was a Shadowhunter. I wasn’t expecting it and it got the jump on me.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out on your own at all. You know the dangers of being caught are high, especially when you can be spotted at any time by a demon.”

I braced myself as I sat up, the pounding feeling in my head intensifying for just a moment, before slowly numbing again.

“I can’t stay cooped up here forever, Jace,” I retorted. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Obviously you’re not or else you wouldn’t have been on death’s doorstep when you got back here.”

“I was not on death’s doorstep. Izzy found me in time, but even if she hadn’t I would’ve been fine.”

“You didn’t look fine.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Listen Jace, I appreciate this...concern you have for me, but I’m fine. I don’t need this lecture, I don’t need anyone’s help, especially not yours. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t actually like me all that much, so you don’t need to continue this caring act, or the lecture. I’m fine and I can take care of myself.”

The tension hung in the air. I expected Jace to walk away and to finally leave me alone. You can imagine my shock when he approached me suddenly, putting one hand behind my head and pulling me in for a kiss.

I was shocked. I didn’t know how to respond to it. I thought for a second that Jace had gone insane, that maybe some Downworlder had scrambled his brain or something. There was no way in Hell that Jace Herondale would willingly kiss me. I was just a torn in his side, and he was one in mine.

But something just felt right about the kiss. His rough hands were gentle as one cupped the back of my neck while the other was wrapped around my waist. He pulled me forward to the edge of the bed, nudging my legs open so he could stand between them. My hands were gripping the t-shirt he was wearing, taking in every last bit of him that I could.

I felt myself laying back on my bed against, Jace’s hand still under my head. He moved with me, hovering over me as our lips moved perfectly in sync with one another. His other hand slipped under my shirt, softly trailing up my side until he reached my bra. We broke away from the kiss just long enough for Jace to pull my shirt over my head and unhook my bra in one swift motion.

He looked down at me, his beautiful different colored eyes soft but full of lust. He gently ran his fingers over my cheek before pressing his lips against mine once more, then moving to start kissing cheek, my jaw, my neck. His lips hovered a moment over the fresh Runes that he and Izzy had drawn on my skin. When he pressed a kiss against them, it almost felt like he was soothing the slight burn that was still there. He continued to gently brush his lips over the white scars left behind from other Runes that had been drawn on my skin for years.

My head fell back against the pillow underneath me as Jace’s lips continued to kiss down my chest and stomach, stopping just above the hem of my jeans. He looked up at me, waiting for permission. When I nodded, he made quick work of pulling my jeans and panties off at one time. He pressed another light kiss just above m aching core before diving in with his tongue.

I gasped at the pleasurable feeling. Of course, being a Shadowhunter doesn’t mean you never have sex. Quite the opposite, really. All four of us in the Institution were no strangers to sex. But this...this was a feeling of pleasure beyond what I had ever experienced before. I blamed the fact that I had only ever had sex with Mundane men before now.

I ran a hand through Jace’s hair and grabbed hold of it. The action caused him to moan against me, the vibrations running through my body.

He lifted his head for air, replacing his tongue with his fingers as he lightly played with my clit.

“I can’t describe how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said, placing gentle kisses against my stomach again.

“You have a weird way of sh - oh - owing it,” I said, trying to tease him through the pleasure he was giving me.

He smiled in response and moved his hand away. I whimpered from the lack of contact, an action I wasn’t too proud of afterwards but in the moment I could care less.

Jace kissed my lips again, the taste of my arousal on his lips and tongue. It turned me on even more and I just wanted to have him inside of me.

I pushed him down onto the bed and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He looked impressed by my action. I ran my hands down his still clothed chest, reaching the bottom of his shirt.

“I hardly think it’s far that you’re still dressed while I’m completely naked,” I said.

“Well, we can fix that,” he responded.

I made quick work of taking his clothes off, discarding them somewhere on the floor with my own. When I pulled his boxers down, I audibly gasped at his length. He chuckled at my reaction. “Surprised?”

“Surprised that my fantasies were true,” I responded.

Jace raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve fantasized about me?”

I took him in my hand and started to slowly stroke him. A breathy gasp escaped from his mouth as he fell completely helpless to my touch.

“It’s hard not to sometimes,” I admitted. “When you’re walking around here in your tight clothes, or with no shirt on. You’re so confident and cocky, it’s hard not to imagine what you’d be like in bed.”

“You finally have the real me here,” he said. “Why not make those fantasies a reality?”

He didn’t have to asked twice.

I spit onto the head of his dick, using my hand to spread it all over him before lining him up with my entrance. The moment his tip slipped inside of me, we both moaned in pleasure and relief. So much built up tension between us, sexual and otherwise, finally being released.

I slowly sat myself down on him, taking in every inch. His hands found their way to my hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that I was sure I’d have bruises there. Once I had adjusted to his size, he started rocking my hips against him, the friction starting to build between us.

I placed my hands on his chest, trying to steady myself as I took over rocking my hips. He looked into my eyes, his mouth partially open as moans and whimpers escaped from his lips. Even with these small movements he was hitting a spot inside of me that I had never felt before. I was almost sure I’d orgasm within seconds.

Jace sat up then, wrapping one arm around my waist while planting the other one on the bed behind him. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding on tightly as he began to thrust up into me. The motions were rougher and faster, hitting that spot inside of me with a force I hadn’t felt before. I buried my head in Jace’s shoulder, trying to muffle my moans as I remembered there were two other people living in the Institution.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Fuck Jace,” I moaned. “That feels so fucking good. I might...I might...”

“What are you gonna do, princess?”

Fuck! And a pet name, too? I was putty in his hands.

I couldn’t even finish my sentence. My climax built up quick and hit me before I was even ready for it. I moaned Jace’s name against his shoulder as I felt myself clenching around him, a warm sensation running through my body.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his thrusts becoming sloppier. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in me,” I whispered. “Please, Jace.”

He threw his head back and groaned as I felt him finish inside of me. I gasped at the feeling, which was almost enough to make me orgasm again.

Jace fell backwards onto the bed, taking me with him. I giggled as I settled against his chest, still wrapped around his softening member. I could stay like that for hours if Jace wanted to.

“Maybe I should get attacked by demons more often,” I mumbled to myself.

Jace tensed under me. “I would much rather if you didn’t.”

I moved my head to look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Relax, I was only joking. I meant what I said earlier, Jace, I can handle demons on my own.”

He relaxed again, starting to trace his fingers up and down my back. “I know you can. I shouldn’t have overreacted earlier. I’m sorry.”

Normally I’d make some quip about him apologizing, but some things were starting to add up in my head. “You were always hounding me and shit because you were worried for me.”

It wasn’t a question, but Jace responded anyways. “Yeah. I...I just never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Jace, I’m a Shadowhunter just like you. I’ve faced numerous Downworlders before, both by myself and with you guys. I can take care of myself, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’ve always been impressed with your fighting skills. It’s just...I care for you in a way that I’ve never cared for someone before. I always worry when you’re out with Izzy or Alec or anyone who isn’t me because I’m afraid of the day that...maybe you don’t come back. When I saw you earlier today...I was so terrified that I was actually going to lose you.”

I propped myself up a bit to take Jace’s face in my hands. “I appreciate how much you care, but you have to have faith in me, Jace. This is the first time I’ve seriously been injured while fighting a Downworlder, and I promise you it’ll be the last time too.”

Jace nodded. I smiled a little and leaned down to kiss him again. I finally decided to untangle myself from him, although I felt empty without him inside of me. I laid down next to him, feeling sleepy from our earlier activities.

My eyes were starting to close when Jace said, “Hey (Y/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should close the door next time we decide to have sex.”

My eyes popped open to see that my bedroom door was wide open. I hadn’t noticed that earlier, what with being...“preoccupied” and all. I groaned and buried my face in Jace’s chest as he laughed.

#jace herondale #jace herondale imagine #jace herondale smut #jace herondale x reader #dominic sherwood #dominic sherwood imagine #dominic sherwood smut #dominic sherwood x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunters imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

977 notes · View notes

enchantestuff · 3 years

Text

cursed crown (1) - pierre gasly

in which sneaking into Pierres kingdom only means one thing

warnings: smut, royalty au so there's that, language maybe?

please please please let me know what you all think

“Are you alright?” you heard Pierre quietly call from the window above you. You had just arrived at his castle and were currently trying to climb up to the kitchen window, admittedly with no help from the prince himself.

“A little bit of help would be nice, Your Highness” you scoffed. Pierre laughed at the title you gave him but obliged nevertheless, leaning out of the window and stretching his arm downwards, waving it in front of your face teasingly. You rolled your eyes as you grabbed hold of it, “I thought I was supposed to be the mean one out of the two of us” you muttered when you finally climbed through the window and planted your feet firmly on the ground. You brushed some dirt away from your coat before finally meeting his beautiful blue eyes.

“Perhaps you're rubbing off on me, my lady,” Pierre grinned. He grabbed hold of your hand and quickly led the two of you out of the grand kitchen, carefully glancing across corridors and hiding behind walls as maids and a variety of guests walked through his pristine palace. You thought you would have been used to sneaking around his home by now, you had been doing it for months after all, but the trek from the kitchen to his bedroom was never an easy one. Even though Pierre had repeatedly confessed to you that this certain day of each month was the quietest, there still seemed to be countless people roaming the halls.

“I do quite hope you haven't acquired only my bad traits, Pierre,” you whispered, quickly glancing behind you as you ran up the stairs and into his bedroom. This was the riskiest part of your journey. The stairs that led up to his bedroom were open for anyone and everyone to see, whether it be from the inside balcony above or from the spacious hall below.

Pierre laughed at your comment, quickly shutting his bedroom door behind him and twisting his body around to face you. He placed his hands on your hips as he led you further into his bedroom. “Are you insinuating that you have any desirable qualities, my love?” he joked, his beloved silly grin quickly making its way onto his face causing your own smile to erupt on your own. These moments with Pierre were the only times you could truly be yourself and they didn't come around too often.

“Well of course, your highness” you smiled, snaking your hands up his arms to rest on his biceps. Pierre jokingly cocked an eyebrow at you, his hands trailing lower down your body, unable to keep them still for a second.

“And why is that?” he pondered, frowning slightly as you pulled away from him to take off your coat and climb onto his freshly made bed, getting comfortable in the silk sheets before peeking at him through your lashes.

“Because you crawl into bed with me every month” you teased. Your eyes trailed across his bedside table, smiling at the familiarity of it. Since the beginning of your late night rendezvous the contents of the table had never changed. There always lay a map of Othain, a journal which he had forbidden you to read and his beloved crown, the one that always lay atop of his head except during these moments with you and of course, when he was sleeping.

You carefully picked the crown up from where it lay and placed it onto your own head. It was much lighter than your own, less jewels scattered around it. It was a breath of fresh air. You didn't feel suffocated wearing it. Didn't feel weighed down by what it symbolized. “Now as your queen, i command you to come over here, for i have been deprived of your touch for far too long”

Pierre chuckled at your words, his steps towards his bed were deliberately slow. He knew how to tease you and from the glare you sent his way, he knew it was working. He crawled onto his bed, positioning himself on top of you and adjusting his crown on your head. “Well then, your majesty, I suspect that I am obliged to prove myself to you?” he jokingly questioned.

“Those are quite possibly the smartest words to leave your lips, my love” you commented. Unable to contain yourself any further, you pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips after weeks apart from one another. Pierre didn't hesitate to kiss you back, but the short lasting kiss was not what you expected and a frown appeared on your face the minute he pulled away. “As much as I love your teasing, Pierre, I would really prefer it if you didn’t indulge in those habits right now.”

He smirked evilly as he trailed one of his hands down your thigh. “Is her majesty upset with my actions?” he pondered, his smirk not once leaving his face as he crawled further down the bed. Kisses were scattered across your thigh and the silent frustrated sigh that left your lips was a good enough answer for Pierre.

“Her majesty thinks she should get what she wants,” you selfishly spoke. You pulled lightly on Pierre's hair, a desperate attempt to get you closer to him again, to remove his lips from your thigh and place them on your own instead. Was that really too much to ask for?

“Well, I personally think she needs to stop being a brat and shut up for once in her life.” Your lips parted to scold him for his language but instead of rude comments, moans of pure delight seemed to leave your lips as Pierre attached his mouth to your core. He knew how to shut you up and for once in your life, you weren't complaining.

You tugged on his hair, pulling him closer into you as your head fell back in pleasure. Pierres crown slipped to fall beside you on the pillow but you paid it no mind as you felt pleasure pass through you like lightning bolts. “Oh Pierre,” you moaned as he lapped at your core similar to a man deprived of a meal. He couldn’t get enough of you.

Pierres fingers dug into your thighs as he moved to suck on your clit. “Shit,” you cursed as you felt the familiar knot begin to build in your stomach. After spending so much time with you and your body, Pierre believed he knew you inside out, which as a result meant he knew exactly when you were going to cum. He felt oh so evil as he brought you to your peak, only to pull away from you at the last second. The frown on your face was enough to make him feel slightly guilty. Only slightly.

“I am going to declare war on you, Pierre Gasly, '' you seethed, completely unsatisfied and now purely annoyed. You hadn’t trekked all the way to his kingdom in the middle of the night just for him to bring you towards the most amazing pleasure imaginable and leave you high and dry at the last moment.

“I'm afraid you don't have the power to do that yet, love” he grinned. He didn't give you any time to come up with a witty reply as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips before undressing himself in front of you.

“Is this your form of apologizing?” because well, it was working, there's just something about a handsome prince undressing before your very eyes that got you going.

“I was planning on making you cum over and over again, love” he spoke, stretching his arm out beside your head in order to place his crown back on your head. You looked so powerful with it on. You always looked powerful, but his own crown laying in your hair brought freshness to you that he didn't know was possible. It made his chest lighten and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It made him feel five again. “But if this is enough im happy to stop here and continue another time.”

You scoffed at him. Keeping one hand on the crown, you trailed your hand down your body, gripping onto your breast, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so, before moving further down your body. You ran your fingers up and down your folds, spreading the wetness gathered there before inserting one inside. “If you cant pleasure me, i guess i'll have to do it myself,” you muttered, knowing deep down that there was nothing Pierre hated more than you pleasuring yourself in front of him. It felt like a betrayal. Like he wasn’t enough.

Your plan succeeded spectacularly, as they always did, and in no time he was positioned on top of you, his tip teasingly brushing against your entrance. He dragged your hand away from your core and held it above your head. His grip was almost death-like and you found yourself relishing in the pain it brought.

“Don't doubt me for a second, love” Pierre grunted in your ear as he tapped his cock against your clit. You bit your lip at the sensation but allowed him to continue with his scolding. You knew there was nothing but love behind his words and so, to no surprise, you got more excited with each word that fell from his lips. “I think you know first hand the kind of pleasure I can bring you.” You gasped at the feeling of him filling you up. After nearly two weeks of not seeing each other, the sensation of him inside you was better than you had remembered. You transferred his crown onto his own head, an indication that whatever power you had over him was now practically non-existent. You were truly at his mercy.

“I'm sure you haven't forgotten the many times i've made you scream, love. I can do it again if your memory has begun to fail you.”

Pierre was always one to live up to his word. His sharp deliberate thrusts made your eyes roll back and several moans escaped your lips. You haven't been with any other man except Pierre and you would never need to. He knew your body more than you did and the delight that he brought you was extraordinary.

The squeezing of your wrist made your eyes snap open. His beautiful eyes were already watching you withering underneath him. A look of pure adoration plastered on his face as his hips continued to move at a rapid pace. “Shit, Pierre”

Pierre shook his head at you, a lopsided grin replacing his usual smirk as he leaned down to kiss your chest. “That's not what i want to hear, love.”

He was playing your own game against you, but you were too full of gratification to care. “P- please, your highness.” A blush crept up your cheeks at the seriousness of your own voice. You were no longer mocking him with his title but moaning it in pure delight.

Pierre cocked his head at you, “Please what, love? Use your words.” Tingles made its way onto your skin from kisses he scattered over your neck, goosebumps trailing in their wake. You didn't even process your words until they were out in the open.

“Fuck me like your life depends on it.”

And he did. His thrusts became unbelievably precise, his free hand roamed your body, circling and squeezing all the right places while his other intertwined with yours. You knew there would be marks left from where he had held on too hard, but you didn't see it as a mark of pain rather than an indication of what had gone on between you two. A reminder for the next long two weeks ahead of you.

The clenching of your walls for the second time that night indicated to Pierre you were close. “Hold on, love” he ushered. Something that was incredibly hard to do when he was pounding into you like an animal and circling your clit like he was under a spell.

“I - i can't,” you sobbed. You wanted so bad to release the knot in your stomach, to catch the orgasm you had been chasing all night.

“I said hold it.” He was in control, that much was clear, but you could only hold on for so long until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

“P - pierre, fuck!”

“That's it, love,” Pierre groaned in your ear, “Hold on for just another moment, such a good girl for me.” Your eyes rolled back and your gripped onto his hand for dear life. “Don't know what id do without you.” Your heart skipped a beat and tears began welling in your eyes. “Look so pretty right now, taking me like the queen you'll soon be.” Your breath increased and a whimper left your lips.

“You can let go now, love.”

Nights with Pierre were often sleepless. You had plenty of time to sleep when you were alone in your bedroom. Two nights each month you spent facing the beautiful prince, talking about utter nonsense until your cheeks hurt from smiling too hard and your eyes drooped from being awake for too long.

“Im being sent somewhere tomorrow,” you whispered into the darkness, playing with his hands as you dared to break the silence around you. You could feel him tense up next to you, obviously assuming the worst and imagining an attack his own kingdom. His own people. “Not you, “ you reassured, your heart fluttering when he immediately relaxed beside you, “Some rebels gathering together behind the mountains, I’ll have to leave early in the morning.”

It hurt you to cut your already short time with Pierre even shorter, but duty called and once your father demands your presence on a mission, you had no choice than show up.

“I hate the fact you have to go out on these stupid battles,” Pierre confided. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night, wanting to imprint the image of your face in his mind until the next time he saw you again.

“Well, unlike you, I have to prove myself to everyone.” It was the harsh reality of your world, one that you were reminded of at each public event you attended. You were a woman and for that reason, deemed unworthy of ruling.

“You wouldn’t have to prove yourself to anyone if you ran away with me,” he reminded. Without fail, every time you met up with Pierre, he brought up the idea of running far away to another kingdom, one where the two of you could live like commoners and not have to worry about the state of a kingdom nor dooming battles. It was a daydream that both frightened and enticed you in the best ways possible.

“You really think you can survive without all this luxury?” you pondered, your hands immediately running up and down the silk sheets on top of you as your eyes floated across the numerous jewels and paintings scattered around his room.

“With you next to me?” he asked. His hand came to rest on your jaw, moving your face closer to his own as he spoke his true desires out loud, “Of course.”

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #au #royalty au #x reader

204 notes · View notes

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

my patient’s neighbour [two] // wanda maximoff

summary: as you spend more time with your patient's neighbour, you come to realise that your crush may be getting too much

warning/s: none, just fluff tbh

author's note: i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! here’s the next bit :)

When Sunday rolled around, I did everything in my power to make it the perfect day for Anna. We went out for breakfast at a café around the corner, a stroll around the park, then I made her lunch before she conked out afterwards, napping in her bedroom. I took that as my chance to decorate the living-area with birthday decorations. Nothing too much as I knew she'd kill me if I went overboard, but little things like a banner, some balloons and streamers.

I told Wanda to come at this time, too, and she showed up with a bag of groceries and a pretty smile on her face.

"Here, let me help," I said, already moving to take the bag off her. "How are you?"

"I'm good," she said, closing the door behind her and following me into the kitchen. Her smile widened when she saw the decorations. "Y/N, this is lovely! Anna is going to love it!"

"You think?" I asked, spinning around and doing a once over of the living-area. "It's not too much? I know she'll hate if I do too much."

"It's just the right amount," Wanda reassured, glancing at me. "How has she been today?"

We both began to unpack the groceries as we talked.

"Really good actually," I said with a nod. "I treated her to breakfast at that café she likes. We went to the park, fed the ducks, had a nice stroll. Then I made her some lunch and she's napping which leaves us the perfect time to crack on with dinner."

Wanda chuckled. "Great." She paused, making me look to her to see her smile fading. Nervously, she asked, "Did her granddaughter call?"

I sighed quietly and Wanda seemed to know what that meant without me saying anything further.

"It's okay, we'll just have to make this the best meal ever," she said, not letting it get to her.

"We will," I agreed, before looking to the food on the table. "So, chef. Where do we start?"

Wanda and I spent the next hour prepping dinner, a beef stew called Solyanka, as it would require two hours to cook on the stove so we were starting early to make sure it would be ready in time.

I was chopping some onions as she prepared the beef, but I couldn't help myself from glancing at her every two seconds, still filled with concern because of her cast and minor injuries.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," she said teasingly, making me look up to see her watching me with a stifled smile.

"Sorry," I mumbled, shaking my head and looking back to my chopping board.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently.

I chewed on my lip as I glanced at her wrist again, before meeting her gaze. "How did it happen?"

"I already told you," she reminded me playfully, trying to lighten the mood, but I was still fretful. "It happened on a mission."

"Yeah, but how?" I asked again, hoping she understood what I meant.

She seemed reluctant to share, face scrunching up with thought, before looking down to her own chopping board. I thought she wouldn't tell me, but then she spoke.

"I can't tell you too much," she started, shrugging, "since it was a confidential mission. But basically, I was undercover when my target recognised me and we got into a fight."

Watching her with the utmost attention, I nodded, imagining it in my head.

"It wasn't difficult or anything, but it surprised me, y'know?" She looked to me with a smile, as if trying to make it sound less scarier than it was. "The guy, the target, he managed to get in few good hits. And he sprained my wrist. But it's alright."

I wasn't as amused as she was, wincing at the thought of her being in a fight. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She tilted her head knowingly. "I'm sure, Y/N. It's my job."

Shaking my head, I looked back down to my chopping board and continued chopping the onion. "I don't know how you can do that as a job..."

"Well, it's rewarding," she said like it was obvious. "Why do you spend most of your week caring for the elderly?"

"It's rewarding," I said without hesitation, before realising what she'd done and looking her way.

She was smiling cockily, making me roll my eyes and laugh.

"Okay, I see your point," I gave in. "But still. It's a dangerous job what you do. Just be careful, yeah?"

"Always am," she promised. And I wanted to believe her, but the cast on her wrist said otherwise.

—

"It smells like home, devochki, spasibo (girls, thank you)," Anna said from her place at the table. "Are you sure you don't want me to help?"

"We're sure, Anna," Wanda called back to her. "I'm just putting the food into a serving bowl and Y/N is grabbing some glasses. You sit and wait like the patient woman I know you are."

Anna mumbled something in Russian which I didn't understand, but it seemed to make Wanda chuckle as she rolled her eyes.

It was finally time for dinner and the stew had turned out beautifully, not that I had doubts since Wanda didn't seem like one to kid around with cooking.

As she was readying it for the table, I was setting everything up and all that was left were the glasses. But, of course (and oddly enough, since Anna was shorter than I), they were stored on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and just out of my reach.

In hindsight, I probably could have grabbed a stool and stood on it, but I was too lazy, so I went on my tip-toes and stretched with all my might. The tips of my fingers brushed against a glass and I attempted to move it towards me, unable to see if I was actually doing anything since it was too high. After a couple of tries, I managed to bring it forward, but my stupid self flicked it too hard and it came tumbling off the shelf and towards the counter.

I braced myself for the sound of glass smashing, but instead, a wondrous red energy wrapped itself around the glass and kept it suspended mid-fall.

"Very clever," Wanda said sarcastically, appearing directly beside me. Her accent was daringly teasing.

I looked up and saw her smirking at me with amusement, right hand raised and aimed at the glass. Red tendrils of energy glowed around her hand and the glass; I widened my eyes a little, amazed at how easy she made it look. Though I knew she had powers, I'd never actually seen her use them up close and personal. It was stunning.

"I totally knew you were going to do that," I played it cool, cheeks flushing as she set the glass on the counter.

"Mhm, sure you did," she played along with a melodious laugh, before pressing her front to my back without warning and reaching to grab two more glasses. "Here, I got it."

My body tensed at the feeling of her unexpectedly so close to me. My mouth went dry, her warmth emanating from her and washing over me with the scent of her perfume. Did she always smell so good?

When she grabbed all three glasses, she didn't seem to notice the effect she had on me (unless she did and kept quiet for her own amusement).

"Think you can grab the food without dropping it?" she asked, quirking an entertained brow.

Still distracted by her perfume, I nodded and cleared my throat. "Food. Right. Yeah."

As I stirred the stew to mix everything thoroughly, I felt my heart rate return to its normal pace and told myself to chill out. Wanda just happened to be an extremely pretty individual who was kind and thoughtful and funny. It wasn't a big deal.

When I was sure I wouldn't make a fool of myself, I returned to the dining table with a pot of stew and set it down on the placemat.

"Priyatnogo appetita (enjoy your meal)," I said, trying not to stumble over my pronunciation.

Both Anna and Wanda raised their brows with matching surprised smiles on their faces.

"You said that perfectly, Y/N!" Wanda said encouragingly, as I took a seat to the right of Anna at the head of the table.

"I see you've been practicing," Anna added, looking to me with an endearing gaze. "A present in itself. Thank you, milaya (sweetie)."

I smiled bashfully. "I have to keep up with you both somehow, right?"

Anna chuckled as Wanda gave me a brilliant smile. Something in my chest stirred as she did, and I was forced to look away, though my own smile didn't fade.

"So, Y/N and I put this together for you and I'm sure you'll know what it is," Wanda said, before serving up a bowl for Anna.

"Solyanka," Anna exclaimed with delight. "Devushki (girls), this looks and smells amazing." She paused, glancing between us both with a grateful smile. "Since you've both been here, this place... it's beginning to feel alive again."

To my surprise, she teared up and began to laugh, using her napkin to pat the corner of her eyes. I rested my hand on hers, squeezing it gently and giving her a small smile.

"I appreciate this very much," she continued, before squeezing my hand and letting go to grab her spoon. "I can't wait to try it."

The three of us dug into our stew and Anna loved it, talking about the first time she ever had it as a kid and how it was one of her favourite dishes. The rest of the meal went by wonderfully, with Anna looking as happy as ever and Wanda listening to her intently. I was listening, too, but my gaze did end up wandering to Wanda as she sat there animatedly, nodding along and smiling to Anna.

For some reason, she was ethereal tonight, though she looked like she always did. Her long brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a loose tee shirt over some jeans. Nothing fancy, but she pulled it off so well. Rings adorned her fingers as she played with them thoughtlessly, and it caught my eye before I got distracted by her cast on her left wrist.

She'd said she was okay, but it still worried me. It wasn't my right to worry, but she was my friend. I was concerned. She could take care of herself, but that wouldn't put the ache in my heart at ease.

As if she could hear my concerns, her eyes flickered to mine, a kaleidoscope of blue, green and gold. She sent me a reassuring glance before looking back to Anna with focus. I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to let my worry get the best of me, before looking back to Anna.

Towards the end of the meal, after we'd eaten and were merely conversing, Anna's landline rang in the apartment.

"I'll get it," Wanda said, already standing up to grab the phone from its cradle.

Anna and I watched as she answered the phone with a friendly 'hello', before a surprised expression appeared on her face.

"Sure, I'll pass it on now," Wanda was saying before approaching the table and stopping by Anna. Her expression softened as she said to Anna, "It's Sasha."

Anna's expression fell at the mention of her granddaughter. She nodded slightly, before standing up and grabbing her cane to balance. Accepting the phone, she began to walk away into her bedroom. Wanda and I heard her say a faint 'hello' before she closed the door behind her.

"Her granddaughter rang?" I asked with mild disbelief.

"It is her birthday," Wanda pointed out, returning to her seat.

"Bit late into the day though, isn't it?" I retorted, pulling a face. "Almost like the day is over, in fact."

"Sounding a little judgemental there, Y/N," Wanda teased, leaning forward into the palm of her hands and watching me.

"I'm not," I said with an eye roll. "I just think she should show her grandmother some respect. Who does she think she is?"

I paused as Wanda gave me a knowing look, then winced.

"Okay, I heard it that time," I admitted, making her laugh.

"I get it," she said, nodding slightly. "Maybe she's finally starting to realise though."

I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "I guess... For Anna's sake, I hope so."

Wanda and I talked amongst ourselves until Anna returned silently, hushing our conversation. She returned the phone to its cradle before taking a seat at the head of the table. Wanda and I exchanged looks before I decided to speak, noticing Anna wouldn't.

"Is Sasha doing okay?" I asked gently.

Anna was staring ahead, barely listening, before she glanced at me then looked down to her empty bowl. Sentences left her lips in Russian, mumbled and incoherent, at least to me. Wanda leaned forward, holding her hand and frowning with sympathy as she listened to her words. I felt horrible, sensing something was wrong, but unable to do anything to help.

"I'm sorry, Anna, I didn't mean to upset you," I said, shaking my head.

Wanda met my gaze. "It's not your fault... Anna just misses Sasha."

I frowned. "Oh."

"But I'm glad I have you both," Anna finally spoke, accent thick with emotion, as she looked between us before settling her eyes to me. "Even if you're paid to be here."

She cracked a smile, making my shoulders relax. I returned her expression, glad she still had a sense of humour.

Anna didn't mention Sasha's name for the rest of the evening. We cleaned up, had some tea, played a quick board game before I made sure she was okay for the night.

"She alright?" Wanda asked when I closed Anna's bedroom door and stepped into the hall.

"Yeah, she's tired from all of today's excitement," I said with a smile.

"So are you by the sounds of it," she joked, but stepped forward to rest a hand on my arm. "I think we should call it a night."

"I think we should," I said in agreement.

After grabbing my stuff, Wanda and I left the flat before walking to her apartment and stopping outside.

"Thanks for helping me out today," I told her with a tired smile. "I really appreciated it."

"Well, you asked so nicely... how could I resist?" she said, staring up at me through her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes playfully, making her smile. "I had fun. Thanks for inviting me."

I was going to respond, but a yawn escaped my lips, prompting me to cover my mouth as I did.

"Sorry," I said, trying to blink the fatigue away momentarily.

She chuckled, tilting her head and watching me carefully. "You're cute."

I breathed out through my nose, unsure what to say to her words, but I definitely felt my heart rate speed up a little.

"I'll let you go," she said, clearly entertained by my silence. "Get home safe, yeah?"

"And you look after yourself when saving the world, yeah?" I replied with a quirked brow, eyes glancing at her wrist.

"I promise." She grinned before moving forward to hug me.

I returned the hug, the smell of her perfume permanent in my nose by now, before pulling away with a final smile. Of course, I probably shouldn't have stared at her lips so intensely, wanting nothing more than to kiss them.

"See you tomorrow," I said, snapping back into reality and taking a step back. "Goodnight, Wanda."

"Goodnight," she said sweetly.

I turned to leave and was suddenly wide awake. Did I just think about kissing Wanda?

—

It was a few visits later when I was caring for Anna and she decided to have a dance around the living room. One minute we were flicking through different radio stations, and the next she was putting on some old records on her record player. She settled on an upbeat, 50s dance song, the music filling the apartment with joy.

"Egor and I danced to this very song when we first met," she told me, talking about her late husband with a twinkling passion in her eyes. "It was a party and he had been staring at me all night, and I him. Then finally, when this song came on, he approached me and said, 'dorogaya, okazyvayesh' mne chest' tantsevat' so mnoy?'"

I suppressed a smile as I watched her reminisce. "And that means...?"

"'Darling, would you do me the honour of dancing with me'?" she repeated in English for my benefit.

My heart melted. "Anna, that's adorable. He sounds like such a gentlemen."

"He was," she said with a sigh of agreement, smiling to herself.

Whenever she talked about her husband, I'd never seen her look more content. The mere mention of his name was enough to put a smile on her face. I could only hope to have a love like theirs some day.

I stepped forward, putting out my hand. "I'm no Egor, but I'd love to dance with you if you'd let me."

"Oh, I can't do that," she said, waving my hand away. "I can barely walk, milaya (sweetie)."

"Hey, as your carer, I am insisting that you dance with me," I said, feigning sternness.

She hesitated, before resting her hand in mine and smiling with gratitude. The two of us danced together, myself being careful to keep her upright and make sure she didn't overexert herself. She was smiling and laughing as I spun her around, dancing her all around the living room, and it warmed my heart to see her so cheery.

A knock on the door caused me to excuse myself from Anna, only to find Wanda on the other end.

"Someone's in a good mood," she said instantly, taking note of my smile.

I stepped to the side to let her in. "Yeah, well, Anna is doing good today. It's contagious, what can I say?"

Before Wanda could respond, Anna called from the living-area with excitement.

"Wanda, idi syuda i potantsuy so mnoy!" she exclaimed, already grabbing Wanda's hand and pulling her in.

It didn't take a genius to know that Anna had basically asked Wanda to dance with her. I chuckled as I followed after them, enjoying the sight of Anna and Wanda dancing together.

"What's the occasion?" Wanda asked, glancing over the short woman and to me with a helpless smile.

"No occasion," I quipped, crossing my arms and trying to hold in my laughter at Anna's speed and perseverance with a reluctant Wanda. "Just having a good time."

Wanda looked like she wanted to retort with a comment, but Anna spun her around before she could, making me laugh aloud.

"Prikhodi odin, milaya (come on, sweetie)!" Anna said, holding out a hand. "Dance!"

Unable to resist, I joined in with the two Sokovian women, appreciating how happy Anna looked and how awkward Wanda felt in the situation. She wasn't much of a dancer, but she was trying and God was that adorable.

We danced for a little while longer until Anna's back began to hurt and she took a seat. Though, she insisted that Wanda and I resume with our dancing.

Just on time, like a sign from the universe or a higher being or whatever you wanted to believe in, a slow song came on next, filling the apartment soothingly.

To my surprise, the awkward dancer that was Wanda was oddly confident as she held out her hand to me.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?" she asked softly, a small smile playing on her lips.

At the familiarity of her words, I glanced to Anna, who seemed to pick up on it, too. She said nothing as she watched us with a smile of her own.

"I'd love to," I said, looking back to Wanda's eyes.

They looked blue in the light, a beautiful sky blue that put me at ease as soon as I stared into them. I slipped my hand into hers, letting her pull us closer together as she rested her other hand on my waist, the touch sending shivers up my spine. I put mine on her shoulder, allowing her to take the lead.

It was the most intimate we'd been, and as she maintained eye contact, I wondered if she could feel my hands trembling slightly, or my heart hammering loudly, or my palms turning a little sweaty. She made me nervous in the best way possible, her smile dazzling without realising and her eyes piercing without meaning to be.

She must have felt it, too, that tug in the pit of her stomach that I was feeling now. Otherwise there was something seriously wrong and I was already too deep into a crush on my patient's neighbour.

When the song ended, it feeling like mere seconds in total, she let go of me and I missed the contact and the smell of her perfume and the way she was looking at me.

"Couldn't have done it better myself," Anna spoke, forcing me to tear my gaze from Wanda's lips. She smiled at me knowingly. "You ladies definitely know how to dance."

I felt a heat creeping up my neck as I smiled to myself, distracting myself with the laces on my shoes. When I finally brought myself to look up, I saw Wanda already looking my way, a calm expression on her face.

As she did most times she visited, Wanda stayed with me and Anna until I tucked Anna into bed and bid her a goodnight. We left the apartment and Wanda decided to walk me to the lift that evening, a distracted look on her face.

It was silent between us, a comfortable one, until the doors slid open and I looked to her with kind eyes.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I told her, making her look to me. "Have a nice evening, Wanda."

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. I watched with amusement, wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. The lift doors began to shut, so I put my foot between them to keep them open.

"I should go," I said with an awkward laugh, before grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently since she wouldn't speak. "Goodnight."

When I turned to leave, I got, maybe, a step into the lift before I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me backwards, spinning me around. I didn't get chance to ask what was up as she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine in an instant.

Startled, I froze at the contact, but then her hand rested on the back of my neck as her thumb caressed my jaw, and I found myself melting into her, closing my eyes at the blissful feeling.

Her other hand fell to my waist as she deepened the kiss, sending me into the lift and the wall hitting my back. I moved my lips in time with hers, revelling at how soft and delicate and gentle she was being. Kissing Wanda Maximoff wasn't something I had realised would be this good, but now that I was, I never wanted to stop.

Unfortunately, the sound of the lift doors shutting pulled us apart. I was breathless, my heart racing and my lips swollen from her spectacular kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time," she revealed, stepping back a little. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed as she watched me with mild concern. "I completely should have asked though. I'm sorry that I overstepped."

She pursed her lips, forefinger and thumb pinching her bottom lip regretfully and gaze falling to the floor.

"You didn't overstep," I said, already missing the sensation of her lips against mine. "You stepped just the right amount."

She looked back up, eyes softening as her lips curved into a radiant smile.

"You wanna, maybe, do that again?" I asked without thinking, my mind a haze as Wanda still remained so close to me.

She laughed melodiously before raising her hand and cupping my cheek. Her eyes looked between mine before falling to my lips affectionately.

"I'd love to, dorogoy (darling)."

I smiled toothlessly before closing the gap between us, secretly wishing this lift ride would go on forever if it meant I could kiss Wanda like this.

—

After making out with Wanda in the lift, she asked me out on a date and it was the best date I'd ever been on. Nothing over the top but very thoughtful as she took me for a picnic in the park before getting ice cream for dessert.

We went on a few more dates after that, taking turns to take the lead with them, and she ended up asking me to be her girlfriend which of course I said yes to.

All whilst this was going on, I still cared for Anna and Wanda paid her visits when she could, though we tried to remain as normal as possible. We didn't think it was best to tell Anna that we were together since we didn't want to startle her or make her feel uncomfortable in our presence. Of course, keeping a secret from Anna is as good as nothing when she had eyes like a hawk.

Wanda and I were putting a plate of tea and biscuits together for Anna one day, myself lining up the biscuits neatly as Wanda lingered beside me. She was about to grab a biscuit from the plate when I smacked her hand away.

"Just one," she pleaded, but I shook my head before nodding to the packet on the side.

"Help yourself to those," I told her condescendingly. "These are for Anna."

"Just get her another," she said simply, before reaching over again.

I smacked her hand away again, giving her a knowing look.

"Y/N!"

"Wanda!" I mirrored her childish smile.

She narrowed her eyes petulantly. "Are you seriously doing this right now?"

"Are you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

She pouted and I so badly wanted to lean forward and kiss it away, but Anna was sat on her recliner behind us. Wanda seemed to know this as a mischievous smile fell on her lips, eyes watching me carefully.

"You're not cute," I mumbled, before grabbing the tray and turning to leave. As I was walking to Anna, a biscuit began to float off the plate, red wisps of energy wrapped around it and bringing it to– "Wanda!"

She laughed, eyes glowing red with magic, before grabbing the biscuit from mid-air and taking a bite.

"Such a child," I said under my breath before setting the tray on the coffee table before Anna. Smiling at her, I said, "Here you go, Anna. Do you want anything else?"

As I straightened up, flipping Wanda off behind my back and encouraging her laughter further, I noticed the way Anna looked between us both curiously.

"Everything okay?" I asked, eyebrows knitting together as she continued to study us both.

"Something happened," she decided. "Between you both."

"What do you mean?" I asked, taking a seat on the couch. "Nothing happened."

"Something definitely did," she said knowingly. "I may be old, milaya (sweetie), but I have very good eyes."

"Anna, what are you talking about?" Wanda played dumb, taking a seat beside me, biscuit in hand.

"Don't think I haven't seen the way you two steal glances when you think I'm not looking," she said, pointing between us. "Or the way you," her finger settled on Wanda, "have been helping Y/N out more often than usual."

Wanda and I flushed, embarrassed that we'd been caught out. I was so certain that we'd successfully hid it from her, but clearly we were mistaken.

"We wanted to tell you," Wanda began, cheeks still pink as she leaned forward.

Anna silenced her with a wave of her hand. "Save it. I knew I was right. You two are together."

Pursing my lips, I waited for her to say something because I wasn't really sure what to say myself. Suddenly, a smile appeared on her lips.

"I'm very happy for you both," she said to us. "Wanda here always needed somebody in her life who wasn't me. And you, Y/N, are the perfect match for her."

I chuckled, looking to the girl in question, whose face was as red as her powers that she used to torment me with. I grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently, and nudged her in the shoulder.

"You hear that? Perfect match," I teased, making her roll her eyes to distract from her flustered self.

Anna said something to her in Russian, way too fast and incomprehensible for me to understand, even with the extra effort I was making to learn it. Whatever it was, it made Wanda get even more embarrassed, her green eyes darting around the room in an effort to overcome it.

"What did you say?" I asked Anna with amusement.

"Oh, nothing Wanda hasn't heard before," she said dismissively. "It's all okay. Isn't it, Wanda?"

"Yeah," Wanda mumbled.

"I don't know what's happening here, but I'm all for someone putting Wanda in her place," I said, looking between them both with an entertained smile.

Anna chuckled as Wanda shoved me in the arm gently before pulling me close again. I smiled at how cute she looked, pink blush creeping up her neck and teeth chewing on her lower lip to contain her smile.

I'd never get sick of the sight.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu imagine

449 notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

111 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Note

what if y/n's friends come by for a surprise visit or smth and mr park is like right there, how would that work out 😟

:-)

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!! smerhaps smut (slightly suggestive content!!!) also y/n’s not good at improv and it shows womp womp

➺ wordcount; 2.4k

»»————-　♥　————-««

“god, you smell good...” jimin murmurs against your neck, his fingers giving your hips a gentle squeeze before his hand slides down to hitch your leg up against his waist

you’re so warm and so soft against him...

he’s obsessed with you

“you say that a lot.” you tease quietly, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair before tugging lightly, “we should probably get up soon... we can’t spend the entire day doing nothing.”

“well, we won’t be doing nothing-” jimin pulls away suddenly before pressing his forehead against yours, “we’d technically be doing each other-”

“what? oh my god, you are such a boy-” you feel your face flush immediately and you turn to the side so you don’t have to look at that cocky smirk on jimin’s face that never fails to make your tummy flutter

“c’mon, pretty girl...” jimin purrs lowly, taking the chance to bury his face into the crook of your neck again before rolling his hips against yours, “i wanna make you feel good.”

the chains hanging around his neck tickle against your heated skin and your eyelids flutter when you feel jimin’s hand creeping towards your centre

“i-” you perk up in alarm when you swear you hear the slight sound of the front door clicking shut, your brows knitting in concern as you stare up at the ceiling

...and then you hear faint footsteps...

...and you’re pretty sure that’s the sound of giggling...

...

what the hell

are there people in your apartment right now

oh my god

are there people in your apartment right now?!

“oh my god-!” you immediately shove jimin off of you, wincing when he rolls off the bed and lands on the ground with a loud thump

oops

“ow-! what was that for??” jimin whines quietly, sitting up before rubbing at his lower back, “also, you are… so much stronger than you look-”

“sorry, sorry-!” you whisper, frantically pulling your shorts up your legs before grabbing a shirt off the end of the bed, “you need to-”

“party of five for miss y/n y/l/n! get your ass out here, girlie!”

"you know, i bet she’s still asleep-”

you feel like you’re about to pass out when you hear lisa getting closer to your bedroom and you reach up to run a hand through your hair in panic

“uh- no! no, i’m up!” you announce loudly before clearing your throat, “just- just gimme a second, lisa- don’t come in here because i’m, like, super naked right now-” you chuckle nervously before spinning around to face jimin (who’s still a little dazed from hitting the ground so hard and so fast, which explains why he’s just sitting there basically doing nothing), “jimin, hurry!”

“fuck, hold on- did you- did you know they were coming over today?” jimin hisses, scrambling up from the ground before pulling the sheets up around his hips so that his lower half is decently covered, “where the hell is my shirt…?”

“oh, yeah, i planned for them to come over the same weekend you’re here so we can all get together and i can tell everyone that mr. park was the one who gave me that hickey they saw last week-” you pause before looking over at your currently-denser-than-a-block-of-tofu boyfriend with wide eyes, “obviously not, jimin! you need to hide-”

“but you’re wearing m-”

you don’t give jimin much of a chance to say or do anything else before you’re grabbing him and basically shoving him into your open closet

“i-” he raises a finger and you shake your head, slapping his hand down quickly

“not a single word-” you warn, shoving your hand against his chest to push him in even deeper before abruptly pulling the closet doors shut

your bedroom door swings open right as you trap jimin in your closet and you spin around with a wide smile, pressing yourself up against the doors, “i’m not doing anything!”

“good morning, sunshine!” lisa chirps, her smile faltering as she takes in the state of the room, “uh…”

geez louise

she knew you were messy, but…

the blanket is drooping off the bed, your clothes are strewn everywhere (your panties are literally hanging off the lamp) - it looks like someone came in here and ransacked the place, if she’s being honest

“i’m doing some spring cleaning.” you chime in as soon as you note the look of concern on her face, “you know how it is! everything has to be super messy before it becomes super clean.”

“it’s… it’s nowhere close to spring, so i wouldn’t call it spring cleaning.” she snorts, crossing her arms before turning on her heel to look at you, “so, how much time do you need to get ready? the girls are waiting in the living room.”

“i, um- it’s just that i said…” you trail off, trying to find the right words to let her down easy, “you know, i did say that i wasn’t going to join you guys this weekend, so i will... not be getting ready... because i won’t be leaving the apartment?”

“oh, i know you said that, but… this is the second time this month that you’ve ditched us to hang out in your apartment by yourself! that’s why we decided to come and surprise you and drag you out instead!” lisa smiles, your heart skipping a beat when she starts to walk closer to you, “now, let’s pick out a cute outfit for you-”

“no!” you snap, slamming yourself up tighter against the closet doors, “no way!”

“woah-!” lisa stumbles backward in surprise before frowning at you, “jesus… what’s your problem this morning? god, you’re so jumpy-”

“i’m fine! i’m just- uh- i’m on my period so- you know how it is since you are also a human girl who has her period every month-” you cough into your fist before letting out a chuckle, “there’s just something about bleeding profusely out of your hooha that drives you crazy, right?! just girly things. so crazy. it’s wild.”

“what are you talkin- wait, what are you wearing?” lisa suddenly changes the subject and you frown before looking down at your-

oh no

this,..,.,

this is not your shirt

this is jimin’s shirt

and you’re pretty sure lisa knows this is jimin’s shirt because she made a comment last week about how nice and biteable his arms looked in it when he pushed the sleeves up

and yeah, one might think that all white t-shirts look the same and that there’s really no difference between them, but lisa pays special attention to detail and would be able to tell about fifty white t-shirts apart if she had to

“a… white t-shirt?” you scoff playfully, trying to play it off and keep things super chill and super casual, “my goodness, you’re certainly a little ditzy before mimosas-”

“well, yeah, it’s a shirt, y/n, but...” she places her hands on her hips before tilting her head, her eyes narrowing into slits, “it looks so familiar and i can’t quite remember where i’ve seen it…”

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as she continues staring at you

god

you hate this

you’d very much like for a wormhole to appear and swallow you up if that were possible

should you say something??

you’ve been quiet for too long

you should say something and change the subject so that she doesn’t have enough time to figure out that you’re wearing mr. park’s shirt because then that’d lead to a discussion as to why you’re wearing mr. park’s shirt and then that’d lead to oh, yeah, by the way, i’m in a relationship with our teacher and before you got here we were in the middle of having sex so it’d be great if you could leave-

“you know, you’re probably thinking about a shirt you saw in a magazine or something- i-” you’re cut off when seulgi suddenly wanders into your bedroom, immediately letting out a snort at the sight of your bedroom

“wow, y/n! i’ve heard of disorganised chaos, but this is a little much.” she whistles lowly before turning to face you, “what’s taking you freaks so long?”

“we were about to pick an outfit for y/n but- hey, does that shirt look familiar to you?” lisa asks quietly, seulgi leaning in a little closer before pursing her lips in thought

“mm… i don’t know. just looks like any old ratty t-shirt y/n would own. why?”

“ratty-“ you gawk, looking down at your shirt, “this isn’t ratty!”

“okay, miss fuzzy-legwarmers-”

“okay, you guys should probably leave because my cramps are, like, killing me-” you step away from the closet for the first time since lisa came in before gesturing for the two of them to go, “i promise i’ll come to brunch next week, but right now, i just need to be by myself-”

(and you know it would never happen but you hope the closet doors won’t spriNG open like they do in the cartoons when the closet’s been overstuffed)

“are you sure you don’t wanna join us? we’re going to talk about how yummy mr. park looked in class on friday-” seulgi turns to glance at you with a smirk as you continue to shove them down the hallway and back out to the living room, “and we all know how you just won’t shut up about mr. park-”

“hA, okay- very funny-” you chuckle nervously as you glance back towards your open bedroom door, hoping that jimin won’t be able to hear any of this

you don’t need to embarrass yourself in front of him any further!

“there’s no point in denying it, y/n!” lisa chirps, “you looooove mr. park and you just wanna sit all over that pretty face-”

“you know, i already know that i’m never going to live that down and you guys aren’t helping-” you grumble, shoving against their backs to get them to move faster, “you basically remind me of it every day-”

“aw, c’mon! you know we’re only teasing, you wuss.” seulgi rolls her eyes, “besides, i wanna talk about how sexy his arms are, so if you come to brunch with us, i can do all the talking and the fantasizing on your behalf- do you think he’d be able to pin you down using one hand?”

you feel your cheeks flush because you happen to know the answer to that particular question (the answer is a big fat ABSOLUTELY he can)

“you know, i don’t know why you always get so quiet whenever we talk about him-” wendy chimes in once the three of you reach the living room, “this is a safe space! we’re all allowed to talk about how much we want mr. park to fuck us into oblivion-”

“i just feel like-” you choke, clearing your throat quietly before averting your gaze to the ground, “you know, he’s our- he’s our teacher, so… so it’s a little weird? to be talking about all the things you want him to do to you?”

also you’re dating him and it’s weird to hear about how much your friends want to fuck your boyfriend

also they talk about him like he’s a piece of meat - and yes, you’re guilty of displaying the same behaviour sometimes - but it’s still not cool!!

jimin’s so much more than just a (very) pretty face and a (very) fit body

“you were the one who said you wanted to sit on his face-”

“yes, i’m aware- you know, i only said that to get seulgi to shut up- anyway!” you scurry over to the door and hold it open before gesturing for everyone to get the hell out of your apartment, “it was wonderful seeing you girls, but i’ll see you on monday at class-” you force a smile on your face and praY that no one is too suspicious of your very odd behaviour

you think you’ve done a decent job at keeping it cool so far... right?

“fine. but we’re not going to share any of the details that we talked about as your punishment.” lisa shakes her head disappointedly as she adjusts her purse strap over her shoulder, “it’s your loss! you don’t get to dream about having sex with the most beautiful man on earth-”

you almost let out a snort but you stop yourself before it happens

you’ve never been one for bragging, but... you don’t have to dream about having sex with the most beautiful man on earth because you’re already having sex with the most beautiful man on earth

(what you’re trying to say is that God has favourites and you clearly made the list)

:-)

“well, that’s a consequence i’m just going to have to suffer with-” you push your bottom lip out in a pout before waving frantically, “goodbye, you guys-!”

you let out a breath of relief as soon as you slam the door shut behind you

holy moly

that was close!!!!!

that was TOO close

you and jimin need to have a better plan to prepare for this if it happens again

hopefully this won’t happen again but you can never be too sure...

maybe you should take your spare apartment key back from lisa

“are they gone?” you jump when jimin pokes his head around the corner and you nod before shooting him a thumbs up

“yes, thank god- but that was… that was way too close.” you shudder, turning and making sure the door is double-locked before walking towards jimin, “i don’t even know what i’d do if they saw you.”

“judging by your improv skills, you’d probably tell them i’m mr. park’s twin brother-”

“you know, that’s actually not half bad!” you raise a brow before reaching down to brush your fingers against the growing red spot on jimin’s bare chest from where you shoved at him earlier, “also, sorry i pushed you onto the ground. and then shoved you into a closet.”

“eh, i’m fine.” he hums, taking your hand before turning and walking back towards the hallway, “also, i’m going to have to ask to join one of these brunches one day since i seem to be a hot topic.”

“oh my god, jimin-”

“by the way-” he glances at you over his shoulder for a split second with a particularly cheeky smirk, “i don’t think i need to remind you again that the offer for you to sit on my face still stands...”

“oh my god, jimin-!”

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

594 notes · View notes