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#and then there's more specific stuff like going to classes or whatever
cetaceacyberia · 1 day
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even MORE sillies from @superxstarzz's classpect fusions!! this time with a wee bit of analysis below the cut because i have the evil homestuck autism that makes me go crazy about this stuff. also the reason these guys look freaky is because theyre a human+troll fusion
OKAY SO generally i imagine fusedtiers would naturally be far stronger than a regular tier, though not quite as strong as a master class, at least depending on the development of each. They are also, of course, far more specific in nature, leading to highly specialized roles. Anywho, here's my interpretation of the classes featured here. I'll probably end up doing more later. Apologies in advance for my wordiness. I know there's a lot of speculation about the role mages play, so I'll provide a brief explanation of how I interpret them first.
Mages, in my opinion, are the active counterpart to seers, being able to take the knowledge they gain through or recieve from their aspect and put it into action. For an example, a Mage of Space as is a component here would be able to take the knowlege of the behaviors of elements and atoms, and be able to manipulate them at their will, provided they know what they're doing, and it's physically possible, alongside being able to ascertain. This can be seen with Meulins ability to form relationships out of seemingly nothing and Sollux's pension for causing doomsday esque events (aradia, sgrub, the like)
Prophet of Design
Prophets, in my opinion, would take the prediction abilities of the seer and the active knowledge mages can use and be able to speak events into reality.
Prophets tend to be extremely high strung people. The suffering that comes with being a mage and the all-consuming knowledge that comes so easily to seers create a scenario in which it's very common for them to slip into anxiety about the events they cause. The butterfly effect, if you will. Prophets do not use their powers carelessly, each move is thought out and incredibly calculated. Prophets are, naturally, blindingly intelligent, being the fusion of the two knowing classes. This can manifest itself in many ways, though the shortcomings mages often experience in relation to their aspect can often cut down their confidence, leading to a prophet underestimating themselves constantly. Despite their anxious tendencies and low self-conciousness, prophets can also be very snarky and sarcastic, when not gleefully oversharing about whatever piques their interest at the moment.
Design would be the merging of the concepts of fate and inevitability with the universe, creation and physics. Design players have domain over the physical outcomes of things. Reactions, from chemical to physical, even quantum at a higher level, all of that is within the control of a Design player. So!! i think a Prophet of Design would be able to speak into reality the outcomes of reactions they create or observe. For example, prophet would be able to do something like say "when i take a step forward, I will actually be twelve feet ahead of where i would have been" and just have that shit happen. As they get stronger, their prophecies can becomem more long term and more drastic, from being able to speak into reality an event that will happen some time in the future to prediting events that might not even be physically possible normally. Beholder of Birth
A beholder, a class that combines the insane growth potential of a page and the mage's expansive knowledge to produce a role of one that is able to expotentially build on the knowledge they have of their aspect. To create entire knowledge trees given the smallest bit of information. From a basic fact to the most niche, minute detail, none of it can escape the gaze of a Beholder. A fully realized Beholder would know, quite literally, everything there is to know when it comes to their aspect, which can be an enormously vast amount when it comes to Space or Time players.
Beholders are natural detectives, though it never comes easy. It starts as the beholder starts to make connections, faint at first but with a sure sign there's something more. Often ones to second-guess their findings, but once they dig deeper, and their ideas are validated, there's nothing stopping a beholder from uncovering everything there is to know from that one initial spark. For lack of a better word, beholders are quirky people, kind but stubborn, and their ascenion often is hindered by that trait due to the help they might need at first. They might get knocked down easily at first, but are wickedly determined, and bounce back quickly and eagerly learn from their mistakes, often brute-forcing their way out of problems. Thanks to the manipulation of knowledge that comes with their Mage counterpart, rising the ranks is far easier for a Beholder than a Page, though roadblocks are to be expected with their headstrong attitude towards growth.
Birth is the merging of creation, physics and the universe with the mind, logic and raw information. I think these would blend into birth players being in control of the inception of very nearly anything. How exactly they can control this depends on the class, of course, but birth players hold the essence of creation in their very soul,
A Beholder of Birth would have the ability to hold an object and see everything that lead up to its creation, how it was created, and everything that happened to it. Not just objects either, but people and other living things. A fully realized Beholder of Birth could potentially have the full knowledge of everything that has ever happened in the universe, from before the big bang to the very end of it that was no doubt caused by the activation of SBURB and everything in between.
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nguyenfinity · 1 year
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More school stuff!!
These are spreads from a type specimen booklet, the objective was to make an 8-page 5″x5″ booklet showcasing the many uses and variations of only 1 typeface on any topic of your choice
So I once again decided to get silly with it--
My other topics in consideration were:
A full summary of all 16 seasons of Ninjago (scrapped because I’d have to write that summary myself and I did not have that kind of time [we were allowed to copy paste as long as we included our source])
The entire national Pokédex. All 1015 of them. Just 8 pages of listing every single Pokémon. It was funny until I realized that’s way way too much.
Narrowed it down to the full dex of just one region but that was still too much-- (body copy requirement was just 5 paragraphs and too much text would be too cluttered)
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astralnymphh · 7 days
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YES PLEASE. BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE?? 90’s?? SIGN ME UP. WHERE DO I PUT MY NAME??😖😖🙏
- 🩵
a/n + cw; OMGG AN EMOJI ANON i haven't seen you guys in a hot minute, but YESSS BLOCKBUSTER ELLIE!! specifically x customer reader. it's a cute duo! and let me relay why from my very scrambled 3 am jot-down. was going to make this a blurb, but it better translates through something more structured. ++ SFW! kinda mean!reader tbh (but ellie likes that), very fluffy you might squeet, quickly written, awkwardness, ellie being a nerd. [first pic from amoaeIIie on pinterest]
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Imagine Ellie, in her blockbuster getup, leaning her butt into the edge of the register counter, jamming to whatever is playing on her hand-me-down walkman; earsbuds in, eyes downcast, head bopping slowing - soundly unaware of you awaiting service on your over-due rental. "Hello?" your volume divides the soft ambiance of the store, but it isn't enough to rope Ellie's mindspace from the clouds. Calling out again, "Hell-looh?" you extend beyond the cash register and wave your hand - nothing, nada.
How the hell has this girl not gotten her ass fired yet?
After numerous roadblocks, a brazen last resort comes into play. You cut around the counter briefly to take things into your own hands (literally) because you have not the time, nor the patience, for her slacking off.
Beryl eyes drop sharply to the walkman in her pants pocket when a single earbud is spooled from her ear, assuming it fell - but to her surprise, it hung low from your finger, and a glance above that finger was your face. Risen of one brow, flat-lined of your lips; impatient.
And her entire focus blanks out when you begin to speak, curtly and satirically, "Hey, I know busting out your Dad's old walkman in public makes you feel cool and whatnot, but you're on the clock." handing the slim cord back over to a stunned girl, flushed behind the pop of her freckles. Maybe your tone of voice sent her higher into the clouds, past a coven of angels, because her lips part narrowly and remain still for a single second - save two or three. Or maybe it's 'cause you specified it as her 'Dad's' which was.. spot on.
And whatever excuse she had quickly cherry-picked for you, hesitated audibly in her throat before it split from it, "O-Oh, right, shit sorry - was about to end my shift n' thought the store was empty. My bad." scrambling to stuff the other earplug in her pocket and avert all attention to you. Very eagerly.
"Looks like you've got a late fee on this one.." her pitch pummeled deeper, and coarser as she concentrates on the clunky screen she hunches slightly to use. Scrunching the freckles of her face together, hogging the blue-lit screen. Poor girl probably forgot her glasses at home. "Annnd are you looking to rent the sequel?" she peeks her auburn head from the screen and holds up the cased movie, tracing her index over the plastic cleft, tapping twice. "To this - it has a second part."
There's no denying it: she is cute - and guilt rolls your guts around for being so snippy and sullen to her earlier. But based on her demeanor growing enthused the second she saw what movie you had in hand - she doesn't seem to care a hoot.
"Out of stock," replied you, indifferent-sounding - and strking; crossed arms, bent knee, stiffly-standing. Comparable to a millpond. "Guess I won't be the only person with late fees." you take a breath to jest, shaking loose strands of hair from your eyes.
"Haha," you're no world-class comedian; that joke wasn't all that funny, but the need to hurl any affirming noise at you, was necessary. Relenting to reflex. What can she say? Love at first sight! "Yeah, that seems like the agenda these days," Ellie sighs out, molding the plump of her lip under her teeth and reshapes it into a dorky smirk. Isn't she just a sweet chocolate-box of adorability?
"Hmm, bummer."
That hum and word trips into her ears, knocking some brain-cog, and an idea limns her features; they glow wide. "Actually - um, I've got a copy of the sequel at my place. Technically it's my Dad's, but.." her pitch fluctuates, mindlessly thumbing the case between two fiddly hands. "Maybe you can - if you want, not pressuring you or anything - come over?" she throws a pointed thumb backwards, motioning a potential future. "Watch it? If you weren't planning on watching it with somebody else."
Slick trick to seeing if you're single; of course you'd watch movies with your boyfriend - or girlfriend.
"Hmmm.." you hummed longer this time, and this time it admitted the mushrooming of an almost aggravating anticipation in her belly. Like you meant to torture her with 'hmms' and nothing but 'hmms' as your answer hung high in cloudy abeyance, until, "What's the name on your tag - ah, Ellie."
"Yeah?"
"Ellie," you confirm her name twice, and speak it to enthrall her full-scale attention. Made it sound fucking sugary sweet, through a swirly whisper and a twist of your head. "If you can give me a discount, or a full wipe on that late fee, then yes. It's a date."
Light panic ensues. "Date?" she croaks and laughs it off, "I mean - pshh, guess that's one way to put it." backtracking to her hunched, elbows-on-the-counter pose.
"You put it that way."
"Yeah, I just.. didn't wanna admit that." immediately, she uncurls her spine again, relaxing her muscles to somewhat peer at you. "Sure. No more fees." Rounded eyes lost - adamant on indirectly staring at you and the space below you, because Goddess forbid a stroke of idiocy flickers through her while gawking at you.
The store runs dead-quiet in the background of your conversation, leading you to one golden question. "Your shift over after this?"
Oh damn, her cheeks are pink. "Uh-huh," bet she's oblivious to that red-hot beam nearly bursting the seams to her face, too. Nasal lines fold as a severe smile tugs, shadowed by her bent thumb poking at it. "Takin' my car?"
And that's how you pick up girls at a video store in the 90s - the Ellie Williams way.
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this isn't even the full idea
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bluesidez · 2 months
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GymRat!Miguel Part 5
content warning: very fluffy, PDA ➡️ something in which the reader is shy about and Miguel is hungry for, Miguel’s bday is 10/13 here, it gets suggestive so MINORS BEWARE, George O’Hara is NOT abusive in this story and he will be Mexican here idc idc idc, some mentions of food (deer meat at one point), some of the gym photos are white men (my deepest apologies, I just want y’all to have an idea of the pose 😔)
word count: 4.3k (just nod and smile. she's thicc like me😗)
Prev | Next ✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
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GymRat!Miguel who learns your schedule front to back. He’s always there to walk you to your classes and carry your heavy bags and purses. Sometimes he’ll meet you outside of your dorm, sometimes you’ll send him your location and he’ll come running. Now, you both walk into the lab building hand in hand and leave the building swinging hands. You used to despise those lovey-dovey couples who were stuck in their own world, but now you could understand them completely. They were still a little annoying, though.
GymRat!Miguel who makes a habit of sending you post workout pictures in the early mornings. His go-to poses are the worm’s eye under-chest, the standing mirror, the bench mirror, and the back mirror. The last one was specific to his dorm bathroom, too shy to take his shirt completely off. Your thorough praises made him feel warm, but sometimes you let more silly things slip.
“You could probably choke me with your thighs and I’d be thankful”
“Baby don’t say that. :(( I would never hurt you”
“Oh so you can want me to sit and lay on you but I can’t ask for the same? Wow. The double standards”
“That’s not fair. You should sit on me. I can take it and I want it. Thoroughly.”
“Oh! So you’re saying I’m not strong enough. Got it.”
“Baby I never said that!”
“Whatever Miguel 🙄”
“ㅜㅜ”
“You never answered me though. Will you sit on me?”
“Go get ready for class 😒”
“😞”
GymRat!Miguel who tells you that his birthday is coming up at the last minute possible. You berate him for telling you so late and kick yourself for not asking sooner, but you still manage to get a reservation at one of the fancy local restaurants.
You pull out all of the stops you could. A gift card from Smoothie King, a pair of slippers to match yours, the newest Final Fantasy game, and a muscle bunny keychain to match your muscle bear keychain. He was your big teddy bear, after all.
You handed him the gifts after the staff brought out a chocolate cake with sparklers on it while singing at the top of their lungs. The chocolate syrup read “Happy Birthday Miguel 🤎” around the plate.
Miguel’s smile got bigger as he took the gifts out one by one. He paused when he got to the cards: one a birthday card and the other a thick “open when…” manilla envelope.
The birthday card was simple and sweet. It was the other stuff you were worried about. You found these cute ideas about letters and notes to leave for your significant other. You had one for anger, sadness, needing a hug, sickness, boredom, and even one for wanting a kiss. You remember Jess walking in on you with your lips smashed against the cardstock, trying to get a bunch of kiss marks to cut out. She just sighed out a “young love” and carried on to her side of the room.
“It’s only been a short time since we’ve been dating, but Thanksgiving and Christmas break are coming up so I wanted to leave you with something for when you can’t reach me.”
Your heart is thumping as Miguel takes the cards out, reading their envelopes.
What you don’t expect is for Miguel to start crying.
You startle a bit, scared that the gift is awful, but he lets out a watery thank you, flustered from everything.
You quickly make your way to his side of the table and hug him. You wipe at his eyes and chuckle at his cuteness, telling him you were afraid he didn’t like it.
He shakes his head, breathes deep and slow to calm his emotions.
“No, I will definitely be using all of these. I really appreciate this. Everything. I’m not sure how you were able to do all of this, but I’m thankful that you did.”
You couldn’t take it. Here he was with dewey eyes and red tinting his cheeks. It was cuteness overload.
You face him towards you and lean forward, connecting his lips to yours.
GymRat!Miguel who stares at you stunned when you lean back. That was your first kiss with him. His first kiss with you and he was sitting here with his cheeks damp and nose sniffling away.
“I-” his heart picks up and he’s opening and closing his mouth. He was short circuiting.
“Can we- I mean if it’s ok, can we do that again?” Miguel stutters out.
You simply nod your head and lean in again, this time tilting your head.
The cards in Miguel’s hands drop to the table and his breathing stops. Your lips were soft and full. Another fraction of his dreams that were nothing compared to the real thing.
He could only hear his heartbeat and the soft jazz music in the restaurant when he let up for air.
This was definitely the best gift of the night.
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed when the waiter comes and asks if you two need anything while he’s leaning down for another kiss.
He just got to kiss his dream girl. Who cares if the waiter saw him kiss you some more?
You jump when the waiter’s hands come close to you two as he picks up an empty dinner plate. You look to the waiter awkwardly to apologize and ask for the check.
This just makes Miguel want to pull you in his lap and kiss you as the entire staff goes by.
GymRat!Miguel who wants you to feed him bites of his cake. You happily agree, especially since he was the birthday boy. His eyes never leave you the whole time.
GymRat!Miguel who grabs the check before you can pick it up. He doesn’t want you to pay for the meal.
“Miguel, it’s your birthday. I picked the restaurant and reserved the seats,” you say a little whiney.
“But I want to pay for the dinner,” Miguel pouts as he holds the check out of your reach.
When he got like this, it was hard to change his mind.
“If you let me pay, I’ll give you another kiss.”
“Just one?” Miguel brings the check back to your level, squinting at you.
You sigh, “I’ll give you ten.”
“Deal.”
Miguel gives you the check with a giddy smile and you slap your card on it.
The kisses still don’t stop him from taking over the tip.
So stubborn.
GymRat!Miguel who texts Gabriel once he’s back in his dorm. He sends pictures of everything from the food to the cake to the gifts.
“Look at what my baby did for me 🤪”
“The same one you left at the party even tho you blew up my phone about her for weeks? 😕”
“Yes…I didn’t do it on purpose. Me and her talked about it already”
“jk jk it wasn’t your fault”
“No way she got you final fantasy. Dana barely got me a cupcake”
“This just proves that my gf is better”
“Tbf tho you and Dana are still in high school”
“Ohhhh my god. You turn one more year older than me and all of a sudden you have the wisdom of a sage. SHUT UP 😭”
“I’ll literally be in college next year”
“AND ANYWAY you’ve never shown me this so-called gf. How do Ik you haven’t gone insane?”
Miguel clicked the back of his teeth in annoyance. Peter walked by him with his eyebrow raised and Miguel just waved his hand.
He sent a picture he took of you from tonight. You looked amazing in that dress and your eyes were beautiful and deep. You were smiling at him from across the table.
“First you try to steal Dana from me and now you get her”
“It’s crazy how this world is so anti-Gabriel”
“What are you yapping about”
“And I didn’t take ANYTHING from you 🫵🏽”
“We were 6 and 7 and you couldn’t push her hard enough on the swings. When will you get over that?”
“It burns all the same”
“You should give me her number and I can let you experience that feeling”
“Gabriel.”
“Show her what a real O’Hara is like”
“Cabrón”
“You’re so lucky I’m not next to you right now”
“THE BIG C WORD?”
“I’m telling mom you called me that btw”
“All because I wanted to meet your gf ☹️”
“Bastard”
“I’M TELLING MOM YOU CALLED ME THAT! WTF?”
It wasn’t long before Miguel’s mom was calling his phone to berate him. He pressed the green button, air pushing out of his nose as his mom’s face filled up the screen.
Peter looked bug eyed as Conchata’s rapid fire words filled the room.
“Ma! That’s so not fair! Gabri called me a bastard!”
There was a quick pause as his mom made a face that he knew all too well. Miguel heard Gabriel yelp as a sandal made a loud impact with his skin.
Miguel heard Gabriel cry out as his mom took off her other shoe, ready to aim, “MIGUEL HAS A GIRLFRIEND!”
Miguel just threw his phone on the bed and groaned. He could hear Peter snickering from his desk.
“What girlfriend? Miguel! Where are you? Come back and answer me,” Conchata’s voice got louder and louder. “I can’t believe you two! You would think this distance meant that you two wouldn’t fight like you’re still sleeping in the same room.”
“We’re not fighting,” Gabriel said. He smirks as he gets in the camera next to his mom. “Miguel is still hiding things from you, though.”
Miguel picked the phone up again with a frown on his face. Gabriel just stuck his tongue out like the brat he was.
“Mijo, what’s going on?” his mom asked, concern in her voice. “First, it was the party and now this. Do you need to come home?”
“No, ma,” Miguel sighed. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is fine now. Great even.”
“Then why haven’t you told me about this girlfriend of yours?”
“We just started dating. It’s still very new,” Miguel chose his words carefully. Ever since his second seamster in high school, she’s been super sensitive towards him and his feelings. Knowing her, she might give you a hard time. He didn’t want that for you just yet. “I didn’t want to introduce you to her until we were more solid.”
“I think a girl that helps to organize the take down of a sorority in your honor is pretty solid,” Gabriel comments off camera.
“She did that?!” Conchata stares at Miguel with furrowed brows.
Miguel only nods, lips wound in a tight line.
“Oh well, mijo, I have to meet this girl!”
“I don’t think-”
“Let me know when she’s free to come home with you! Maybe over Thanksgiving?”
“Ma, she has her own family-”
“Ok I have to go now! I have to catch my shows. Call me more often or I’ll have to come up there!”
The room fell silent as the call ended and Miguel was met with his messages with Gabriel again.
“CHECKMATE!”
Miguel still wanted to throttle him.
GymRat!Miguel who’s super excited when Halloween comes and you want to wear couple costumes. He hasn’t done costumes since early middle school. Growing up meant realizing that some people your age want to grow up. Fast. No one wanted to dress up in silly costumes anymore or go trick-or-treating. Sure, the scary stories were fun but at that age, he wanted to eat candy all night, not teepee houses and run in the woods.
He’s hanging out on his bed chatting with Mary Jane and Peter while you get ready in the bathroom. The theater and art department collaborated together to host a costume party. This time, Miguel wouldn’t leave your side. Maybe if you had to pee, he would consider waiting awkwardly by the door. He didn’t want the same mistake to happen.
The two of you decide to go as Starfire and Nightwing grouping up with MJ and Peter who dress up as Raven and Beast Boy for a Teen Titans theme.
The costume is pretty tight but he has to admit, it looks great on his build.
You walk out of the bathroom with a cheery “I’m ready!”
It’s definitely not ideal that his suit is so tight.
The skirt is hugging your body in every which way. The cut-outs at your hips had his fingers twitching. To top it off, the diamond cut out for your chest left him internally screaming.
Peter whistled from his desk and MJ hollered about how good you looked. You smiled bashfully, doing a 360.
Miguel wanted to shove MJ and Peter out of the room to reenact what Starfire and Nightwing actually got up to when they were by themselves.
You walk up to him and flip your flaming hair back playfully.
“Do you like it?” you ask, peering up at him.
“I think he more than likes it,” Peter mumbles out in a stage whisper. MJ elbows him softly in the stomach.
Miguel spins you around, “Fuck yeah.”
Your laugh falls out of you, surprised at his curt reaction.
“Honestly, you two can go ahead to the party and we’ll just hang out here,” Miguel said, face as serious as ever as he wrapped himself around you from behind.
“No, no, no! You can do whatever you want after the party. Keep it in, buddy,” Peter says as he starts to guide everyone to the door.
Miguel keeps himself attached to you all night.
GymRat!Miguel who helps you bring your things to your car for Thanksgiving break. It’ll only be a week but he feels like he might not make it.
“You’ll see me again next Sunday, Miggy” you say to him as he’s bent over you with the biggest pout out ever.
“I’m still gonna miss you,” Miguel leans further with his forehead on yours. “Wish you could come with me.”
“Maybe over the winter break we can plan a time to meet outside of school.”
Miguel just sighs dramatically.
You decide to say fuck it and kiss him in the middle of the almost empty parking garage.
Miguel doesn’t let up now that you’ve given him an inch. He’s holding you by your hips, your face, your waist, anything to get closer. He moans a bit into your mouth as you open up.
You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper, “I really have to get on the road now, baby. And so do you.”
Miguel slumps as he guides you to your driver’s seat. You roll the window down and pucker your lips for another kiss.
Miguel obliges easily and asks, “Call me when you get there?”
“Of course,” you say.
He stands and watches you drive off, missing you already.
GymRat!Miguel who is almost knocked down when he opens the door to his home. Gabriel is wrapped around him like a koala, squeezing away.
Miguel laughs and rubs his back, relieved that he’s not heavy enough to knock him over.
“It’s good to see you too, Gabri,” Miguel laughs.
Conchata peaks around the corner and almost cries at the sight.
“My boys!” She coos while coming to the door. “George! Come help Miguel with his bags!”
Miguel waddles in with Gabriel still clinging to him. He’s glad to be home.
GymRat!Miguel who gets your call in the middle of Gabriel watching him play Final Fantasy. He pauses the game and runs to his room, Gabriel yelling at him to come back and unpause the game.
You tell that you made it home and that you’ll call him later.
You blow a kiss at the screen and he catches it with glee before you end the call.
Miguel is glad you left before Gabriel opens his door like that one big bird meme.
“Was that her?” he asks, voice excited. “Is she still on the phone?”
“Yes. No. Why are you eavesdropping like a creep?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping! It just dawned on me a little too late that you left to go talk to her.”
“Whatever,” Miguel groaned. “Let’s just get back to the game.”
“You know you can’t hide her from me forever, right?” Gabriel says, skipping next to Miguel.
“I’m not trying to. But you being a weirdo will make me want to.”
Conchata passes by them with a laundry basket on her hip, “Who’s hiding something?”
“Nobody!” Both Miguel and Gabriel shout in her direction and run back to their game.
Conchata rolls her eyes and continues to her bedroom.
GymRat!Miguel who becomes overwhelmed on Thanksgiving Day. It’s as if every close and distant relative was here. The first floor was full of people. As much as Miguel puts on, he’s never been an much of an extrovert.
He’s up in his room taking a breather. He pulls out one of the cards you gifted him. The one for when he missed your kisses.
He opens and pulls out a letter. There’s instructions on it.
“Each shade is for a different feeling!”
There was a cute chibi doodle of you kissing him on the cheeks at the bottom of the letter. He saw that there was a shade for nervousness/being overwhelmed.
He pulls out a polaroid of you and opens the bag of glossy paper kisses. He flips one and it reads, “Breathe slow and steady 10 times. Kiss me when you’re done.”
He does as you say and brings the paper to his lips. It even smells like you. Sweet. Fruity.
He smiles to himself and takes out one more.
GymRat!Miguel who finally lets Gabriel talk to you on Friday.
“He can be a bit annoying. I’m warning you now,” Miguel says.
“Don’t say that, Miggy. He’s your brother! He’s allowed to bother you at least a little. ”
Miguel yells for Gabriel to come in and he’s running to snatch Miguel’s phone.
“Hi! My name is Gabriel, the better O’Hara. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
“Oh my gosh,” Miguel watches as you gasp. “It’s like another Miguel!”
Miguel snickers as Gabriel groans loudly in annoyance.
“I don’t look like him. He looks like me!” Gabriel pouts.
“Well, you both sport that same O’Hara pout.”
Gabriel and you chat for a long time. Miguel had to cut the conversation short when Gabriel started to tell embarrassing stories from their childhood.
“Alright, you’re done,” Miguel says and snatches the phone back.
“Aw, but we were just getting to the good stuff!”
“Yeah!” you say. “I wanna know how you messed up the science lab in middle school!”
“Nuh uh, Gabri is running his mouth too much. Get out.”
“I can’t wait to see you in person!” Gabriel shouts as Miguel pushes him towards the door. “You can meet my girlfriend too! She’ll love you!”
“I can’t wait,” you say, laughing as Miguel struggles to detach Gabriel’s fingers from the doorway.
GymRat!Miguel who talks to you on the phone until you fall asleep. You look adorable as you’re blissful to the outside world. Your cheek is squished on your pillow.
He has the urge to bite it like it’s mochi.
“Buenas noches, mi amor,” he whispers before he closes his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of your breaths.
He didn’t know that you were still partially awake to hear him.
GymRat!Miguel who picks you up and spins you around after the break. You squeal in shock, surprised that he could pick you up in the first place.
“Baby, I lift much heavier weights at the gym. This is nothing,” Miguel stares at you as if you have two heads when you comment on it.
You’re in a daydream the rest of the day because of that fact.
GymRat!Miguel who joins you on your late study nights in the library closer to finals. You two always sit at one of the tables hidden by the giant bookshelves.
It was nice and cozy. Quiet and roomy.
It was also a great place to makeout.
Every time you got a set of flashcards memorized, Miguel would pull you in his lap and devour you with kisses. It was a great motivation and a welcomed distraction.
It always ended up getting a little too heated and Miguel would have to excuse himself to go to the bathroom.
Sometimes you would feel so delirious that you wanted him to stay so you could crawl under the table and take care of his problems for him.
That was definitely the multiple late nights talking.
GymRat!Miguel who is super bummed out by the time Christmas break starts because you two can’t find a proper time to meet.
You have to visit several other family member’s houses and his biological dad wants his family to join him and his family at some ski resort before the week of Christmas.
George O’Hara was not turning down a free vacation.
You told him to cheer up and enjoy the snow and jacuzzis. Miguel couldn’t help but to think that the jacuzzi would be better with you on top of him in it.
And when Gabriel annoys him, he didn’t mind all that much because that was his baby brother whom he loves dearly. It was when Kron, his step-brother, would run his mouth that Miguel would seriously get annoyed.
He’s been competing with Miguel ever since he caught on to the fact that his dad had a secret love child.
Right now though, he was pissing Miguel off.
First, it was fighting Miguel over a snowboard. Then, it was taking the last elk burger and not even finishing it. Next, trying to knock him off balance right as he got off of the ski lift.
It was as if he was 8 and not 20.
His final straw was when he was being a dick towards Gabriel. All Gabriel was trying to do was bring them together and Kron cursed at him.
Even Miguel doesn’t tell Gabriel to fuck off.
“What is up with you? Don’t cuss at him. He didn’t do anything to you,” Miguel unlocks himself from his snowboard, ready to leave.
“It’s ok, Migs,” Gabriel held his hand out, knowing how this could end.
“No it’s not. He’s been nothing but a dickhead to you, to us, this entire trip. I’m sick of it. Go be annoying somewhere else, Kron.”
“Dad,” Miguel shouts out. Both George and Tyler looked over at him in concern. Miguel didn’t feel like directing himself towards a specific person. “I’m going to the room, I’ll be back down for dinner.”
Tyler wanted to run after him. George was eyeing Tyler for even reacting to Miguel’s cries. Nancy and Conchata just stood in confusion.
“He, uh, he probably just needs a breather. Maybe he’ll talk to his girlfriend!” Gabriel said trying to lighten the mood.
“Girlfriend? What girlfriend? I didn’t hear about any girlfriend,” Tyler says, saddened that he was being left out.
“Shit,” Gabriel mumbled to himself.
“You don’t live in our home, Tyler. Of course you don’t know,” George says, a bit peeved.
“What George means to say is that it’s all new. Fresh! Even I haven’t met the girl,” Conchata slides in matter of factly.
“Tyler should know her, being that she was the one who emailed him with our son’s case,” George grumbled out.
Tyler turned to Gabriel, “Jessica?”
“Uh, no.”
Tyler then says your name with a fondness. As if he knew you like an old friend. “She was quite compelling with her words!”
“So the two of you know of her and I still don’t even know what she looks like. I never thought this day would come,” Conchata held her gloved hand over her forehead like she was about to faint.
“Why don’t we host a small dinner next year? We can get to know her that way,” Nancy chimes in.
“Guys, I really don’t think that’s necessary-”
“Nonsense, Gabriel. If this girl was willing to do something so brave for Miguel we have to meet her,” Tyler grips Gabriel’s shoulder tight. A grip that could rival his brother’s.
“That’s a great idea, Tyler! Nice co-parenting move!” Conchata holds her fist out for him to bump. He does it proudly and they walk towards one of the cabins while Nancy follows behind, discussing dinner ideas.
George only scoffs and stomps off to his room mirroring Miguel’s mannerisms.
Gabriel was screwed once Miguel finds out.
GymRat!Miguel who waits until Christmas night in his bedroom to open the gift you sent to him. He smiles at your cute message and unfolds the paper to so much. It’s a Spider-man lego mask, a customized hoodie with a doodle of you and him, two picture frames with the two of you from his birthday dinner and the Halloween party, and some polaroids that you warned him to look at by himself later.
His breath shuttered as he took him in. They were all of you in your dorm room. They started off innocent. You were smiling, laughing, staring at the camera. Then they got a little more explicit.
You had on a tank top with no bra. Your cleavage was on display. Some showed your entire body on the bed. Some showed your torso and hips, curvy and full.
Miguel felt faint.
His final straw was the last picture in the stack. It was a picture of you from behind, “Merry Christmas XX” written in cursive across the top. You had on briefs but your ass was still readable, peaking out from the bottom. There was an arch in your back as you looked over your shoulder seductively. What a tease.
You were going to send him to an early grave. And who took these pictures?
All Miguel remembers was shuddering, hips lifting off the bed as he held one of pictures high. He had to bite his shirt as to not startle the entire house.
After he cleans up, he spreads the pictures across his bare chest and clicks a photo with a lazy yet satisfied smile.
You respond back with voice memos, so happy that he loved his gift. You also send some sounding a bit needy.
Miguel calls you and talks with you all night.
This Christmas wasn’t so bad after all.
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dividers by: @plutism 🩵
a/n: This one was really fun to write!! I dove deep into my lover girl brain for this. Like full on immersing myself into the reader’s position. I hope you enjoyed! 🩵
As always likes and reblogs are super appreciated. PLEASE COMMENT OMG. 😭 Let me know how you feel or I get nervous 😭😭😭!
taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting @flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02 @jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies @samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu @urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @love-kha1 @manlikemilesmyguy @sillysillygoofygoose @monticellohoe @kodzuminx @lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @ce3stvu @ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm
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bangtanflirt · 2 months
Text
(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)
*Series taglist is closed.
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut
____
Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.
“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”
“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”
“You want it to dry slower?”
The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”
He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.
“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”
“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”
“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.
Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.
Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.
“Fruit delivery!”
Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.
“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.
Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.
“Three days?”
He nods.
“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.
“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.
It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.
___
Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.
This isn’t going to be easy.
Joon says with furrowed brows alone.
He’s going to hate this.
Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.
It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.
They were the first two members of the pack, after all.
Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.
Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.
Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.
He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.
The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.
“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.
Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.
“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”
Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.
“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.
Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.
“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”
Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”
“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.
Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.
“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.
“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”
The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.
“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”
Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.
“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”
He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.
Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”
Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.
“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.
The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.
He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.
Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”
“What if he wants space from me?”
“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”
Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.
Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.
“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.
Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.
Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.
“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”
With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.
“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”
“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.
Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.
He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.
It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.
The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.
Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.
“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”
“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”
“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”
Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.
“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.
Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.
“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”
Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.
___
Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.
“What is it pups?”
Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.
“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”  
Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.
“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”
“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.
Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.
“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”
It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.
But this wasn’t a normal situation.
“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”
Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,
“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”
Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.
“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.
Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.
“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”
Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.
“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”
“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”
“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”
“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”
Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”
He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.
“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”
“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”
Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.
___
You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.
You’re Shin Y/N.
You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?
It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.
It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.
“Right there is fine.”
He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.
“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.
“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.
“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.
“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”
“No thank you.”
Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.
“I miss you.”
The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.
The wolf simply scoffs.
“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.
Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.
Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.
“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”
He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.
“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”
“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”
You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.
Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.
“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”
He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.
“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”
You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.
Friend.
Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.
Jungkook’s never had a real one before.
He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.
Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.
The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.
And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.
He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.
That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.
If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.
“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”
“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”
Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.
That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.
To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.
But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.
You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?
That’s never happened before.
____
A/N: It's good to be back!!!
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rimunagenius · 2 months
Text
And They Were Roomates
☙ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader
☙ word count: 2.5k words
☙ warnings: RPF!! use of y/n, not proof read.
☙ ri speaks: I need more kate martin content and i haven’t been fed the specific ones that i need so i must write them to the best of my horrendous abilities. Idek how good this will be…im sorry in advance LMFAO. also this is two thousand five hundred words but it looks a lot shorter….crying
this is also a general announcement that i will indeed be refreshing my blog, so that means new and updated master lists and posts are coming out soon so sorry if you get a spam of rimunagenius on your feed!!
Part 1
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When you first started in Iowa, you never expected the immediate love you recieved from the people there. They were friendly, generous, and so much different from people in California. Especially your roommate, Kate Martin. You had met her shortly after your first day of Junior year. A while after, you two became roomates because you needed more space, and she needed someone to split rent with in her apartment. Sounded like a great deal to both of you.
"You don't mind?" You asked unsure. Not wanting to impose on her, possibly ruining plans with making a deal with her actual teammates.
"No! Not at all! I really like you and you're alot of fun! I'd love for you to move in with me." She beamed at you, giving you a side hug when she saw your expression change. You both were ecstatic.
Since then, you had been living with Kate for almost two years. You two had become inseparable. Always on campus together, meeting up between classes to get coffee or lunch together, sometimes with Caitlin and your other friends. It was great. You were happy with your home away from home.
You had transfered from UC Irvine and decided to pursue your degree and career in sports medicine here in Iowa City. You were one of the new athletic trainees and ocassionly a photographer; your previous major was in photography and Lisa and the administration had really loved your resume and work, so they hired you as a part time (barely) photographer, for whenever they wanted more shots than what they usually wanted or a fill in.
Currently, you were needed in the Carver stadium to help record a mic’d up practice session for the team. It was for the Iowa Hawkeye Youtube channel. You had experience because you too had a youtube channel that you started when you first transferred to Iowa. So you had told Lisa and the coaches that you’d be able to film it.
“Hey, Gabbie!” You smiled at her as you walked into the locker room, approaching Kate’s cubby to set your stuff down. Kate telling you this morning before she left that you could put your stuff with hers.
“Hey, girlie! So guess what?” You and Gabbie loved to gossip. It was so much fun and it started when you were redoing the tape on her ankles, and she looked down so you asked her about it, and since then, you both have told eachother whatever gossip you had.
“Oh my god, what?” You took your sweater out of your bag, the locker room being chilly, so you could imagine the court.
“So that boy Nick in my econ class, totally asked about you today. I didn’t want to crush his hopes and dreams but I did say you weren’t his type.” She took a seat next to where you were standing to put her shoes on.
“Wait, the boy I said would so be my type if he was a girl? That Nick?” You laughed because he was really nice and such a sweet guy but he just wasn’t a girl. Men are pretty but only to look at.
“Yes!”
“How’d he take it?” This guy has asked you out once before but you just said you weren’t looking to date. Probably should’ve elaborated on that one.
“But he asked me “Oh, who is? Does he go here?” And I was like,” she paused to reenact the face she made. “I said it too fast so I didn’t have time to say “Oh, It’s long distance or something” sooo I don’t know.” She rambled and just pulled her hair into a small ponytail.
“What do you mean? That made no sense, Gab.” You were confused. She looked guilty of something but you didn’t want to pressure her but you also really wanted to know what she had said about you to Nick.
“I kinda sorta said you had a girlfriend already, and he took that as ‘Oh, she’s dating her roommate Kate Martin’ because he said he supposedly sees you guys together everywhere.” She meant well. It really wasn’t her fault that Nick totally misread the situation.
“Oh shit.” Your jaw dropped. You thought it was awkward but now it went full fledged horrendous. You were already out, and anyone who followed your insta would’ve saw it in your stories, so you weren’t worried about that but you were worried for Kate.
“So what do we do about the fact that a random kid on campus thinks your dating Kate?”
“Ok wait, i’m actually scared. Like how do you think Kate will take it?” You were talking to Gabbie and immediately knew you fucked up by seeing the expression on her face.
“How will I take what?” Kate walked in, hair down, dressed in her practice uniform, and sat on the chair next to you. You hadn’t realized that you sat down with Gabbie. Lost in the conversation and frenzy of the new mess that could possibly affect yours and Kate’s social life dramatically.
“I’m just gonna…” Gabbie got up, and walked out, meeting the others outside on the court.
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you in a minute.” You said to the girl before turning to Kate. You had caught her up on the lore behind you and Nick, if you could even call this one sided infatuation lore. Now you just had to tell her the problem. “So Gabbie tried to tell him that I was already seeing some girl. But Nick jumped to this whole conclusion that me and you were together.”
You watched her face. Looking for any sort of negative reaction. Waiting for her to blow up on you. “Oh.”
“And when Gabbie tried to say it wasn’t you and that were just friends, and that my supposed girlfriend lives in California, he got up and left. So it may be possible that the whole Iowa college campus will assume we’re together.” You played with your fingers as you watched her some more. Still waiting for her explosion.
“I mean, I don’t mind. He sounded weird so if it keeps the guy away from you, i’m okay with being the ‘pretend’ girlfriend.” She shrugged her shoulders. Grabbing her shoes from behind you, your chair sitting right infront of the cubby that belonged to her:
“Kate. Are you sure? This is so random and so strange and I would totally get it if your uncomfortable.” You wanted it to be clear that this situation could go away if she was uncomfortable. If she was uncomfortable you’d go on a date with him and just tell him it won’t work after. It’d be bad for you if he goes around saying rude things but you couldn’t care less about people you don’t know. You just wanted to make sure Kate wasn’t the one feeling weird.
“Yeah, I mean—I don’t have to kiss you in public, right? I feel like that’s overstepping a boundary we have not thought about setting.”
“No, Kate. You do not have to kiss me in public. Wait so you’d kiss me in private?” You looked at the girl, now fully joking around as you wiggled your eyebrows and laughed.
“Oh yeah for sure.” Kate made a funny face while nodding her head before grabbing her water and standing up. You following behind to get this practice and video recording started.
“Oh, and your getting mic’d up today. I don’t know if Coach Lisa told you.” You say as you both walk onto the court.
You and Kate had showered, separately unfortunately, and sat on the couch. You had been trying to convince her the whole way home from practice to watch New Girl. She agreed after ten excruciating minutes of your nagging.
You were deciding to pick the snack you wanted, grabbing M&Ms you bought at the store yesterday, snickers, chips, and popcorn. You wanted to watch as many episodes as possible because you both started school late tomorrow and it was an off day for practice.
“What are these practices anyways? Are they like preseason workouts to get back in shape or?” You watched Kate as she picked her snacks.
“Yeah. Basically. We’re technically only allowed to goof off a little during those ones.” Kate laughed, referring to the mic’d up practice today. Coach Lisa usually wants a more focused and intimate space during the actual season. “Oh my. What if we just kill this whole tub of Neapolitan ice cream?” Kate took it out of the freezer and suddenly all your snack choices went back to the cabinets.
“Ou deal, Martin.” You grabbed two spoons before making your way to the couch. Grabbing the blanket off the backrest, and throwing it over you both. You both settled and got comfy ready to start the marathon of New Girl.
You were both sitting in silence after you decided to just do a highlight reel of episodes since you weren’t going to force Kate to watch multiple seasons. "Are you excited for this upcoming season? Your last season?" You asked as you looked to your right. Kate was seated next to you while you both decided to disregard bowls and just eat the ice cream straight from the tub. She held the tub as you both dug what you wanted out of it. She shoved more ice cream into her mouth and she smiled and nodded her head.
"I am. Just scared and sad." She said somewhat incoherently due to not having swallowed the mouthful of ice cream. You nodded your head. You had already adapted to the Kate language. When she talked while yawning, mouth full, her body language, and her facial expressions. Not many people were fluent like you, and you were actually proud to be one of the people. So you understood exactly what she meant. You saw everything else she was feeling just by the look in her eye and the shape of her lips.
But you also felt sad for her too. You’d both be a sixth-year, grad students, in a couple months. This year bigger for her more than you. This year being her last and final run in her collegiate career. This was huge. You both knew this but wanted to focus on the nicer aspects. You and the girls would support her and be her friend even if she decided to never touched a basketball again. You guys were for life.You didn’t play, so you felt there was nothing you thought you could say other than just being her friend.
"You'll be okay, sweetheart." You wrapped your arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. A small comforting hug, atleast a hug at which this position provided, and kissed the top of her head. You only used terms of endearment like this in small, comforting, intimate moments. You felt this was the right time. "I'll be here for you, and you have the girls. We’ll back you in whatever you do, outside of basketball and school. You can’t ever get rid of us if you tried. But I will give you all the support and all the ice cream you can eat right now." You smiled at the blonde. You both stared at eachother, a little too long, “We are not beating the supposed ‘girlfriend’ allegations right now, Martin.” She bursted out laughing. You not far behind.
"But seriously, thanks shortie." She said as she patted your knee, right before she lost it again and laughed out loud. You immediatey cringed at the name, and pushed her away from you.
"OH! my god! Immediately no, Kate." You laughed again, half embarassment and half amusement. "That is not funny. You sound like a frat boy." That earned another snort laugh from Kate.
"You're right. I'm sorry." You side-eyed her. Pulling the blanket a little closer to you. Scooting over the tiniest bit over to feign anger and hurt. Still managing to catch her movement through your peripheral.
"Bro, I'm not even that much shorter than you. Just short three inches." You rolled your eyes at your best friend, turning back to the episode where Jess and Nick kiss eachother for the first time. Your favorite episode.
"Yes, I know. I know how you feel about my short jokes. I almost cried when you ignored me for three and a half days." Kate chuckled as she looked to you her smile dropping, a frown forming when you still didn't acknowledge her. "Oh, come on, y/n. Don't ignore me again, please! I was kidding." She asked you while chuckling nervously, she asked you two more times, when that didn’t work she insisted on poking you for a two minutes straight.
"Okay, Kate. I forgive you. Now shush, my favorite part is coming up." You kept your eyes on the screen and tried to reach for your spoon in the tub. Your fingers reaching everywhere but your spoon. "Kate can you help me please?"
"Yes, but haven't you already seen this show like eight-billion times?" She grabbed a spoon, whichever one was closest, forgetting which one was which, and scooping a good spoonful, before bringing the spoon to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth and took the ice cream happily.
"Thank you, you big teddy bear. God's gift, I'm telling you." You said as you watched the best scene on sitcom TV about to unfold.
"Im just going to pretend you're talking about me and not your show." Kate whispered. "You're welcome, pretty." She said louder so you could hear.
That got your attention. It wasn’t something that you hadn’t heard come out of her mouth and directed to you before; she's called you pretty multiple times when you had asked if the outfit you were wearing out looked good or if the makeup you put on was good for this dinner a girl you were seeing on and off wanted to take you out to. But she's never once used it in this context. You got a nervous feeling in your stomach, something you recognized as butterflies for sure. Fighting the urge to smile at the compliment, a small blush creeping up on your cheeks. Fighting the thoughts you had about her.
It was something new but this one thing…this you weren't going to get used to. You guys were best friends and just roomates. You can't feel anyway about this.You decided to ignore it and take it as a compliment in the moment to make up for the short joke. It definitely wasn’t something serious as you were making.
"I was talking about both of you. The TV and you, Kit-Kate." You put your arm around her shoulder and continued to watch the show. Watching the scene you had been waiting for all night to play. “This was the best cinematic experience I have ever had.” You whispered, now reaching for the spoon again for some ice cream.
Kate beating you to it, already having got another spoonful for you, feeding it to you like she did a couple of seconds ago. You smiled and thanked her before you both decided to cut the show, and search for a movie of both your choosing this time.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 10 months
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Professor Miguel O’Hara x Reader Headcanons
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Warnings: University Professor Miguel, Implications of Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Teacher’s Pet Reader, Academic Manipulation, Coercion, Abuse of Power, Miguel Abusing his Spider Abilities for Nefarious Purposes, Slight Yandere Miguel, Implied Obsession, Minor Spoilers for Miguel’s Backstory, Extra Yandere Headcanons, Forced Kissing, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Miguel knows it’s wrong to want you in the way he does. You’re his best and brightest student, after all — his magnum opus: his academic pride and joy.
Problem is, that appreciation for your work ethic and your eagerness to take heavy loads of work (and eventually heavy loads of other things) charmed him. Sure, he could label you asa kiss-ass, a teacher’s pet, a sycophant, but ever since the first day he met you, he can’t help but feel your concern for him is genuine.
You always ask him how he’s doing. Every class, without fail, you stop off at his desk on your way to your seat and ask: “How are you doing today, Mr. O’Hara?” Followed by questioning some inane, specific detail he told you off-handedly a day or week prior.
You always remembered the little details. Something even Miguel finds trouble with doing; what, with his extracurricular activities as Nueva York’s one and only Spiderman.
The fact that you’re kind to him, a luxury Miguel had long since lost along with his family, strikes a chord with him.
He’s not sure when his platonic appreciation of such a hard-working student turned to something more — a rogue daydream into the lewd — but once he started, he couldn’t get enough.
Something about your unspoken submission to him – your, dare he say, desire to perform just for him, led his mind and his morals astray, left much room for interpretation and experimentation.
Choosing to believe you liked him — like-liked him — made a brand of pride bubble in his chest that he couldn’t abandon, couldn’t find a potent enough alternative to.
He starts shamelessly, yet restrainedly, flirting with you. In his own way, of course.
“I loved your paper on the configuration of water molecules and their behaviour when observed; very enlightening stuff.”
The way your face would light up, your eyes crinkling while a small, almost relieved laugh escaped you, made his chest flutter.
He thought it was pride. How little he knows for a science professor.
Eventually, this escalated into him asking you to do things for him he “Wouldn’t ordinarily ask a student to do.”
He smiles at you, eyes deceptively kind behind his slender glasses, as he watches you so intently listen, hear, for his commands.
He wonders what other things you’d do — how far you’d really go, stretch yourself (as he hopes you’d let him) — for a good grade and a positive impression.
He has a secret weapon that he knows will work on you, regardless of how momentous the task.
“I’m trusting you because you’re my favourite student.”
There it is. The activation phrase. Your heart rate quickens, your pupils blow wide and he can feel, hear, the blood rush to your cheeks as his confession settles in.
He can expect whatever it is he’s asked you to do to be complete before the time he’s set for you to do it. And all because of your eagerness to prove that you’re worthy of such a title as ‘favourite’. His favourite.
Truly, though, you are his favourite.
He feels his heart prick and his eyes search for you whenever the door to the lecture hall opens.
Only once were you unable to come to class, rendered bed-ridden by the flu, and Miguel’s heart sank.
He thought at first it was because he didn’t have your adoring eyes following him, trailing his every movement, stroking off his ego with how furiously you’d type on your laptop, take everything he said and burn it into your memory with laser-life efficiency.
But, as the lecture drew to a close, Miguel felt…concerned about you. Your well-being.
A dangerous emotion.
He cared about you. More than just an academic plaything, a task donkey; he wanted to visit you, to care for you. In ways he knew only he was capable of.
During his surveillance of the city that night, he paid you a visit as Spiderman.
Nothing so overt as to make himself known to you; rather a sideline visit as he watched you through your bedroom window.
Truly, your physical state reflected how monumental your illness was; you lay in bed, unaware of the world around you as you slept, nose tip red and eyes ringed.
He wanted to come in, to tuck you back under the blankets you’d thrashed yourself free from, to check your temperature, to be with you.
He leaves, hand coming up to the glass, wishing to breach it — and all the rules — to see you.
But alas, the next time he sees you is in class a few days later when you’re fully recovered.
As you sidle into your seat, lecture hall (uncharacteristically) devoid of Miguel, your friends lean in to tell you all that you missed.
Though, to your surprise, it’s not academic material they’re covering.
“He kept looking over here while you were gone,” came one friend, smiling. Knowing.
“Yeah,” chimes another, leaning in even closer. “And he didn’t sound like he usually does — he sounded…” They look for the right word, term, eyes sliding upwards as if the answer lay heavenward.
The cogs click, they look at you, pointing.
“Disheartened!”
Of course, your friends knew of your admiration for Miguel, often construing it as romantic attraction, but their jibes never went past a joke – purely satirical. After all, practically every student fancied Miguel.
But, that was the first indication you’d seen that Miguel didn’t just view you as another of his students. Though, you hadn’t seen the other warning signs.
Not that youd knwo this prior to dating him, but Miguel gets unbelievably hard when you call him ‘Mr. O’Hara’. Or, even better, ‘Sir’.
Something about the way you look up at him beneath your lashes, eyes filled with the desire to please him, to get on his good side and undertake any task he set for you, was akin to him having full control over you — academic and otherwise.
It just reminds him of how much power he has over you; for the first time, he feels that he has control over the elements and objects around him — an agent of fate rather than being a subject of it. 
That, coupled with his secret identity as Spider Man, sends him on a power trip that often leads him to relieving himself of his growing burden in the privacy of his own four walls, your name laced between the groaning, the panting, the moaning; the only comprehensible instrument in his orchestra.
And, when you eventually start dating, he takes his frustrations out on you.
He makes low, raspy threats when he wants something.
“I’ll lower your grade,” he says, sliding his belt from the loops of his trousers.
The blood draining from your face, your widened stare, your mouth dropping open, make his pants feel tight. Tighter. Goosebumps erupt across his skin.
“Or,” he offers, folding the belt and holding it by the ends. He slaps the belt’s body against itself, sending a crack through the room. You flinch.
“You can be a good little student and earn your grade.”
‘Earning’ often ends with you panting and red and wet, while Miguel watches you between half-lidded, reddened eyes, contact lenses long abandoned, his true nature no longer an enigma to you.
Unfortunately for you.
Extra Yandere Headcanons:
Once you discover Miguel’s true identity, both as Spiderman and a monster, you can never leave.
And not just because you’d be endangering both yourself and him if you ever told anyone.
Miguel, quite simply, cannot live without you. And the thought that you would try to escape him is, despite his intelligence, baffling.
His delusion has blinded him, made him privy only to any positive opinion of him you may have, ignoring your reservations. Invalidating them.
If you ever do make the mistake of trying to leave, Miguel knows he cannot let you have the chance of making it again.
“Can’t risk you getting out, Darling,” he says, placing the finishing knots on the threads of his neon web, keeping your arms constricted behind your back. It’s nigh-impossible to breathe; the likelihood of you breaking your ribs against the pull of the web a certainty rather than you managing to burst it open with any manoeuvre.
He kneels before you, taking your cheek in his hand.
With fleeting defiance, you pull yourself from his grasp, only to see him bear his teeth, fangs and all, and growl. His hands snake about your cheek, your throat, and pull you to him.
“No-one will ever love you like I do,” he rasps. Before you can anticipate, his lips are on yours, parted, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing better than to bite him.
His iron grip on your wrists from last time still haven’t healed.
You daren’t close your eyes for fear that doing so will leave you any more vulnerable than you already are.
Only when he’s breathless does he pull back, eyes half-lidded and gleaming. You can tell he’s angling for something more in the way his hand drops to your shoulder, his eyes sweeping across your collarbones.
But, luckily for you, the two of you know he can’t indulge in you just yet. Not while he has you bound in his basement and a class of students awaiting his arrival.
“I’ll be back for you later,” he says, still panting, forehead pressed to yours. His smile, once pointed and serpentine, is incongruously soft compared to the current circumstances. His lips gentle as he presses a kiss to your forehead. His eyes shimmer with a tenderness that often overtook him in moments of great need – of great “love”, as he’d characterise it.
With a tight, embrace, he parts from you. His shirt is an almost blinding white against the light pouring in from the hallway, the basement door now wide open. He retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket, slips them on. His eyes are unreadable, coloured brown with contact lenses which seemed to conceal his inhumanity from all except you.
“Sit tight, Sweetie,” he tells you. And you are plunged once again into darkness with only the dim glow of his web to accompany you.
And, just like the good, obedient student you are, you obey. For you have no other choice.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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Text
He Hung Up (2)
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: “I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.
Warnings: Violence
Word Count: 4.2k+
Note: I tried doing a one shot, but I've never been good at those so here's a part 2. Third and final part is also planned.
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
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“Suspects!” Mindy shouted, causing all of you to look up at her as she stood before everyone as if she was on center stage.
Everyone gathered together on campus before their classes and before Sam had to go to work. Quinn, Anika, and Sam all sat on a bench together while Chad, you, Tara, and Ethan sat on the other bench.
Chad had a pen and notebook out ready to jot down notes as soon as Mindy started talking. Tara was leaning into your side with your arm wrapped around her shoulder. Ethan was sitting next to you looking up at Mindy like a clueless puppy.
You had started out listening to Mindy, but she kept mentioning sequels and requels and eventually you just tuned her out. You got into your head when she mentioned being in a franchise, you couldn’t help but think about all the potential ways Ghostface was totally going to kill you. You didn’t zone back in until she mentioned Tara and Sam being on the potential chopping block.
You didn’t want to die but there was no way in hell you were ever letting someone hurt Tara again. You’d seen her scars; she told you what happened. It had taken a while for her to get comfortable enough, but you woke up one night to her thrashing around in bed. When you got her to calm down, you just held her, and she told you all about Amber.
“Y/N,” Mindy said, clapping her hands together as she looked at you. Your eyes snapped to Mindy, thoroughly being pulled out of your worrying thoughts for Tara at the accusation you could be the killer.
“Hey!” you said, raising both your hands in offense. Tara smiled up at you, laying her head on your shoulder.
“Good! Never trust the love interest,” Sam said, nodding along with what Mindy said.
“I took that phone call for you.” You turned to Sam, once again offended. So much for her warming up to you after that, now she suspected you of being a serial killer.
“Oh please, it could have all been an act. Who would be stupid enough to antagonize Ghostface?” Sam raised a brow, waiting to hear what excuse you could possibly have.
“Me!” You leaned forward, jostling Tara enough to lift her head off your shoulder.
“Babe-” Tara started, leaning away from you just enough to look at you.
“I would certainly be stupid enough!” You continued, ignoring whatever Tara was about to say.
Everyone fell silent after that. Sam raised her eyebrows at you. You stared at her for a second before furrowing your brow, you glanced down at the ground, finally realizing what you just said. Tara patted your leg, giving it a comforting rub.
You sat there pouting, vaguely aware of Mindy going on and on about Quinn, Ethan, and her own girlfriend Anika being suspects as well. The others tried making an argument in their defense, none more than Ethan who tried deflecting suspicions on to the core four, specifically Sam.
You didn’t think any of the core four were the killers. It didn’t make sense. Despite all the stuff that was being said online about Sam there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that she was innocent. Tara fought with her sister all the time, but she adored her. Even the previous night while they were arguing Tara didn’t hesitate to jump in and defend her sister, ready to attack that girl who threw her drink on Sam.
When you and Tara first started hanging out anytime someone would question her about Sam or anytime, she’d see something negative online she’d get all angry and defensive. She would rant for several minutes about how those random ass people didn’t know what they were talking about. You would just sit and listen to her. It wasn’t your place to judge, you weren’t there, you didn’t see how everything went down. The only things you knew for sure was that everyone who was there agreed on what happened, Amber and Richie were psycho and Sam was a fucking hero.
Despite her not liking you, you had also gotten to know Sam since you started dating Tara. Sam didn’t share anything with you but based on the way Mindy and Chad admired her you knew she was cool. Then based on the way Tara would come over to your place for a break from her sister and just rant nonstop for over an hour, told you that though she was incredibly overprotective, she loved her sister more than anything, she loved all her friends, she just wanted them to be safe. After what happened to all of them you couldn’t blame her for being a tad overprotective.
“Should you really be telling us your suspects with us here?” you asked, interrupting whatever Mindy was still ranting about. Everyone fell silent, turning to look at you. “If you think one of us,” you pointed to yourself and Ethan then Quinn and Anika, “is the killer then why are you tell us you suspect us?”
Mindy didn’t say anything, opting to narrow her eyes at you. You leaned back against the bench, your arm still draped over Tara. You gave a small shrug, trying not to disturb Tara again. “I’m just sayin. If I’m the killer, then me knowing you suspect me would only help me.” You squinted your eyes, thinking to yourself to make sure that made sense. Sometimes you started speaking before your brain had time to process what you wanted to say.
“She’s got a point,” Chad said, nodding along and pointing his pen at you.
Everyone seemed to reluctantly nod, even Sam.
“I don’t think it’s Y/N,” Tara said. She lifted her head, leaning back, turning to give you a quick kiss. “She’d never hurt me.”
Sam scoffed. Tara threw a glare at her on your behalf. Sam quickly turned her scoff into a cough, clearing her throat.
“That’s what you thought about Amber,” Mindy pointed out. “And look how that turned out.”
Sam tilted her head glaring at Mindy. Chad looked up at his sister, his eyes wide as he shook his head. There was a lot you didn’t know but you knew what Mindy just said crossed one of their unspoken lines. Mindy at least had the audacity to look a little guilty when you flicked a glare at her.
Tara remained quiet. You felt her tense next to you the second Mindy had said the name Amber. You looked down at her concerned, you couldn’t help the hurt the flashed in your eyes when Tara just barely leaned away from you.
You couldn’t even blame Tara. You knew you’d never hurt her, that you’d do anything to keep her safe, but she couldn’t know that. Even after all you’d been through there was a part of her that would probably always doubt you because of what happened. You hated that. You hated that someone she trusted hurt her and betrayed her so bad she now had to question ever new relationship in her life, she had to worry if the next person she met would do the same thing.
You tried to hide the hurt, going back to listening to Mindy conclude her final suspects and franchise thoughts. Tara noticed though. You caught the same sadness in her eyes as she realized she had subconsciously leaned away from you. She slowly leaned back into you. You wanted to tighten your grip on her, comfort her in any way you could, but you didn’t, you weren’t sure if any sort of movement would cause her to pull away again.
When Mindy finally finished, everyone went their separate ways, leaving you, Tara, and Sam. You took a step back, suddenly finding the trees around you very interesting while Tara said goodbye to her sister.
“I’ll see you when I get home from work,” Sam said.
Tara nodded. “Yeah, we’ll all make our way over right after classes end,” Tara said, repeating the plan Sam had all made them agree to.
Sam flicked her gaze up to you for a second then back to Tara. “Be safe.” Sam pulled Tara into a hug who seemed reluctant at first but quickly reciprocated. When she pulled away, she looked at you one more time before finally running off to work.
“Soooo,” you drew out. Your hands were in your pockets, and you kept your eyes on the concrete. “What-”
“I’m sorry,” Tara cut you off.
You scrunched up your brow, lifting your head to look at her. “For what?”
“For how I reacted when Mindy mentioned,” it was Tara’s turn to suddenly find the concrete interesting. “You know who.”
“Don’t apologize for that.” Your eyes softened, taking a cautious step forward. “You can’t help how it makes you feel and your feelings on it are fully warranted.”
“I know. I just…” Tara took a deep breath, letting out a long exhale as she rubbed her temple. “I know you aren’t her.”
“Obviously, I mean I am one of a kind,” you joked, giving her a little smirk.
Your plan worked, Tara giggled, lightly pushing your shoulder. “Shut up.”
“So, what do you want to do for the day?” You finally got finish asking what you intended. “Since our professor’s untimely demise last night our class is cancelled today. Your sister is at work, your friends are all in class, and our next class isn’t until this afternoon.” You gave her a mischievous smile.
Tara returned the same smile. “Whatever will we do with this rare freedom?” she asked, taking your hand in her own as she began leading you down the stone path.
“Was thinking we could go back to my dorm.” You smiled innocently at her, “My roommate isn’t there.”
Tara didn’t say yes right away. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it. She got that adorable crinkle in her brow when she thought hard about something. You were smiling at how cute she looked until you realized why she was giving it so much though then you frowned.
“Shit, I’m sorry, it was a stupid idea,” you quickly said. “I’m literally one of your guy’s suspects and even if you don’t fully believe I’m the killer, me asking you back to my dorm alone is a stupid idea.” You were mentally kicking yourself for thinking that was a good idea. “We can go to the library or the cafeteria or chill in the quad, I’ll be happy with whatever.” You smiled, then quickly frowned again. “Unless you don’t want to be alone with me. Which I can understand, I guess,” you pouted. “I’m not the killer but I get that you don’t know that and can’t know that for sure and-”
Tara grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. Your previous rambling dying as you happily returned the kiss. You smiled into the kiss, it was simple, soft, and you could feel all of Tara’s love for you in it. It was your favorite type of kisses from her. When she finally pulled away you were left smiling at her like a lovestruck idiot even after months of dating.
“I would love to go back to your dorm,” Tara said softly. She was already pulling you in the direction of your dorm.
“Are you sure?” You asked again. You needed her to be sure, you wanted to make sure she was actually comfortable enough with being alone with you.
“Yes,” Tara said confidently. “I don’t think you’re the killer. I trust you.”
You smiled softly at Tara and pulled her in for another kiss. This girl who had been hurt and betrayed by her best friend, her girlfriend, the person she should have been able to trust the most, believed you weren’t going to hurt her. You couldn’t believe it. Sure, you weren’t the killer, but you couldn’t believe that Tara trusted you so much that she didn’t doubt you, that she knew you would never hurt her.
“Let’s go,” she whispered against your lips when you guys finally pulled away again.
You nodded and let her drag you to your dorm room. When you got there you happily unlocked it, tossing your keys on the kitchen counter. You weren’t necessarily rich, but your family was like Tara’s, your parents made decent enough money. Which is how you ended up in one of the nicer dorm rooms, with a small kitchen, living room, full bath, and two bedrooms. Your parents were great, not always around but they were okay, which is why they tried to compensate by making sure you were comfortable wherever you were.
“So, did you want to watch a movie or…” you trailed off, looking to Tara for suggestions.
“I didn’t really have a movie in mind,” she said.
Before you could ask what, she wanted to do she was marching up to you, pushing you so you fell down onto the couch. You were leaned back in a sitting position when she kneeled on the couch, straddling your lap. She wasted no time and gave you no room to say anything else before her lips were on yours again.
“Okay, this works for me too,” you whispered when you guys finally broke apart for a breath. She shook her head smiling at you before kissing you again. You ran your hands up her back, sliding them underneath her shirt. She lifted her arms, getting ready for you to slide her shirt off when your phone rang.
“Ignore it,” she said in between kisses.
She was kissing down your neck as you shifted, trying to disturb her placement on top of you as little as possible. She turned your head towards her, kissing you again, trying her best to distract you from whoever was calling you. When she trailed her kisses down your neck again you looked at your phone, furrowing your brow at the caller ID.
“What? Who is it?” Tara asked, sitting up straighter but refusing to remove herself from your lap. You turned the screen towards her. Her name was on the screen. She shot off your lap, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the phone. “Don’t answer it.” Her voice shaking, her previous confidence thrown out the window.
You cleared your throat before hitting the green button and bringing the phone up to your ear. “Hello, this is Y/N, how may I be of assistance,” you said in the best customer service voice you could muster up.
“Hello, Y/N,” the crackling of someone using a voice changer came through the phone. “You wanted my attention so bad last night I decided to give it to you.”
“That is so sweet, I do have a desperate need for attention.” You started to pace back and forth, making sure to keep your eyes on Tara, needing to know she was okay. “I’ll never ask for attention cause I don’t want to be inconvenient and come off as needy but oh do I so crave attention.”
“I’ve gathered. Based on your constant need of approval even when doing the simplest things, such as cooking dinner.”
You pouted. “Fuck you.”
“Do you think it has something to do with your parents never being there for sporting events or award shows?”
“Doctor Carter?” you asked. Tara tilted her head at your confused expression.
“No this isn’t your therapist,” Ghostface sighed. “Your abandonment issues and constant need to be validated that you’re good enough are just so textbook.”
“You’re being quite hurtful this morning. I had much more fun with our conversation last night.”
“Aww, I’m sorry.” You could hear Ghostface’s fake sympathy through the voice changer. “Let me make it up to you. Let’s play a game.”
“How about Monopoly?” You smiled brightly at the idea of getting to play your favorite game. You looked at your girlfriend who rolled her eyes despite the terror she was clearly feeling. You frowned, she never wanted to play Monopoly with you.
“Nobody likes Monopoly.” You could feel the annoyed deadpanned look in through the phone. “It’s to long, no one has time for that.”
“The only people who don’t like Monopoly are the ones who lose. Also,” you spun around on your heel. “You’re literally planning murders and dressing up like a serial killer and setting up what you refer to as a game, that usually takes months if not years to plan and then is executed over a couple days. Talk about excessive.
“I hate Monopoly,” he said, ignoring the rest of your statement. You took his silence on the matter to mean you were right and he had nothing to argue against it.
“Sounds like something a loser would say,” you continued to taunt Ghostface, regaining some of that confidence from the previous night. “Is that why you’re doing this?” you looked up in thought, as if you just had a revelation. “You decided to copy someone else’s game in the hopes you could finally win something?”
“Shut up!” Ghost face growled. You smirked; you knew you were getting to him. “This is my game! I am the mastermind here!”
“I’m pretty sure that was Billy Loomis,” you interrupted. “No, wait,” you paused thinking for a second. “Roman Bridger was technically the original mastermind behind it all, you all are just cheap knockoffs of his game.”
“They could never comprehend the level of complexity of my game!”
You snorted, not able to hold in your laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Jill Roberts?” you asked through your laughter. “Who is my favorite Ghostface by the way.” You got lost in thought thinking about Jill. “Man, who doesn’t love a manipulative psychopath.” You shook your head, still thinking about her when you noticed Tara somehow glaring at you and giving you a concerned look. “What?” you shrugged.
“Listen here you bitch!” your attention snapped back to the phone; you had forgotten Ghostface was trying to threaten you. “Billy, Roman, Stu, whatever! None of them matter! They will all be forgotten when I’m through.”
“Oof,” you let out a sigh. “Someone clearly has daddy issues. Is that it? Daddy didn’t love you enough?”
“You wanted a brutal death, I promise you I will deliver,” Ghost face said, you could hear him taking calming breaths though they sounded crackly with the voice changer. “Now, back to our original scheduled program, what’s your favorite scary movie?”
You rolled your eyes, these guys always had the same script, couldn’t they each come up with something new and different? You had seen the Stab movies and you read all the articles about the real-life events, but they always played out the same. You just wanted someone to surprise you for once, shake things up a bit.
“Ready or Not,” you said without hesitation. Since he was so insistent you figured you might as well play along. You still would’ve rather played Monopoly, no one ever wanted to play Monopoly with you.
“Really?” he snorted.
“Okay judgy,” you held up your hand in offense. “First, it’s a great movie. Second, Samara Weaving in a wedding dress with a shotgun. What’s not to love?” You turned to Tara for support. She seemed reluctant but she shrugged, nodding in agreement with you.
“I see why Samantha hates you,” Ghostface changed the subject.
“Sam doesn’t hate me,” you tried defending. Looked at Tara who kind of scrunched up her face and shrugged her shoulders slightly. Your mouth fell open, you knew Sam didn’t necessarily like you, but you didn’t think she hated you.
“After all, you got her sister killed.” Your face fell, your eyes widened as you looked at Tara. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to kill you first. She can watch as I carve you up, ripping out your organs. Do you still want me to carve out your heart and deliver it to her?”
“I’ll kill you myself before you ever get close enough to hurt her,” your said through gritted teeth.
“One more question,” his voice was deadly calm. “Do you think you can make it to the door before my blade pierces your gut?”
A chill shot down your spine, you stopped breathing. You subconsciously reached for Tara, grabbing her hand, and running towards the door. You caught a shadow moving out of the corner of your eye, you yanked Tara, pulling her in front of you and pushing her towards the door, turning just in time to catch Ghostface’s hand as he tried to stab you.
You heard Tara scream. Your eyes darted toward her, cowering in the corner by the door. You had to focus on the cloaked figure in front of you trying to stab you in the heart though. “Go!” you shouted towards Tara, pushing against the hand that held the knife with as much strength as you could. “Go!”
Something slammed into Ghostface’s head, shattering on impact. Ghostface’s hand slipped, you used the distraction to push him off of you. His knife still managing to slice your bicep.
You stood looking down at Ghostface, seeing your blender shattered on the ground next to him. “My blender?” you turned to Tara.
“Let’s go!” she ignored your question, grabbing your hand to pull you to the door.
Ghostface kicked out his feet, tripping you. You caught yourself against the wall, pushing off just as Ghostface brought down his knife, impaling it in the wall where your head had just been.
He pulled on the knife a few times trying to unstick it from the wall. You grabbed the back of his head, slamming it against the wall before delivering a sift to his stomach.
You didn’t get the chance to beat him even more because Tara gripped your hand tight, throwing open the door and yanking you out. She practically dragged you down the steps, not releasing her grip on you even when you were outside.
Tara called Sam as you were ushered off to the hospital. You hated hospitals but Tara insisted, she wouldn’t stop fussing over the cut on your arm. You tried to tell her it was just a scratch, but the continuous bleeding made it hard to argue your defense.
You were sitting on one of the beds in the ER as a nurse finished stitching up the cut. Tara hadn’t left your side, holding onto your hand the entire ride to the hospital and through the entire process of the stitches. You kept giving her a reassuring smile, wanting her to relax slightly, you loved her, but you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers.
The nurse had just finished wrapping your stitches when Sam swung open the curtain. She didn’t say anything, in one motion she stepped forward, engulfing Tara in a hug who instantly returned it. You took the opportunity to flex your fingers of your now free hand, watching as the color slowly returned to them.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Sam questioned, pulling away from the hug to look over Tara, making sure there were no new injuries. “What were you doing there? Why did you go somewhere alone? Why weren’t you in class? I should have never left you. We should have never left our apartment.”
“Sam. Sam. Sam!” Tara tried getting her sister’s attention. After the third time Sam finally stopped rambling. “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she reassured her sister. “I’m sorry, we thought we’d be safe together.”
“Look how well that turned out.” Sam shot a glare at you.
You flinched at her stare. You didn’t usually get bothered by Sam’s jabs at you or her glares or her general dislike of you. This time was different though. This time she was right. It was all your fault. You antagonized Ghostface the night before, then you went off to be alone with her sister, where you once again antagonized Ghostface. Tara would have been safe if it wasn’t for you.
“Hey!” Tara snapped; she moved in front of you as if she was defending you from her own sister. “It’s not her fault. She saved me.”
Sam let out a frustrated sigh, running her hand through her hair. She clenched her jaw, flicking a look from Tara to glaring at you. You kept your head down, looking anywhere but at Sam. You tried making yourself as small as you could as you hid behind Tara.
“Let’s go home,” Tara said, leaving no room for argument.
Without looking, Tara reached back, interlocking her fingers with yours. She pulled you to your feet and led you past Sam. You smiled softly at how protective Tara got against Sam when it came to you. You were happy Sam didn’t try to stop Tara; you weren’t sure what you would do if you weren’t allowed to go back to their place with them. You didn’t want to be alone, and you certainly had no desire to leave Tara after the attack.
When you got back to their apartment Tara didn’t say hi to anyone else. Everyone was seated in the living room, ready to greet you guys but quickly fell silent as Tara brushed past them, dragging you to her room. You got comfortable in her bed, Tara instantly curling into you, resting her head on your chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s not your fault,” you whispered back. “I’m not going anywhere.” You kissed the top of her head. “I promise.” She tightened her hold around you as you two quietly drifted off to sleep.
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supercap2319 · 27 days
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I was wonder if you could do an x male reader for Peter Hale. Where it’s Young Peter and Peter just realized male reader is his mate after catching his scent. And he just trips on his own face in the middle of the high school halls because that where Peter first caught their scent
Peter learned about mates from such a young age. His older sister, Talia, would tell him stories of what it would be like to have and mate, and when Peter would find his, he would know. He thought that Corinne might be his true mate. She was cute enough, but maybe it was more hormonal than true love.
He pushed his way through the hallways of Beacon Hills. Nothing bad or exciting ever happened here. Peter's family was the only pack in town. Of course, there were the Argents, specifically, Chris Argent, in almost every single one of Peter's classes. Peter knew that he would turn out to be just like the rest of his family. Hunters. Hunters of Peter's kind. Of werewolves.
Maybe Peter would go visit his sister after school and his two year old nephew, Derek. Catch a movie or go for a run in the woods. Whatever Peter's original plans were going to be were put to a stop as he inhaled something sweet and sharp. Almost like a cinnamon scent. Peter felt his inner wolf howl with delight as his eyes flashed gold for a second, and his claws and canines came out. What the hell was going on? Why was he shifting in the middle of the hallway....
Then Peter saw him: Y/N L/N.
Y/N was on the basketball team with Noah Stilinski. He was a golden boy. He was kind to all, and he was fucking burning Peter's nose with his scent. The smell of cinnamon was all over him, and Peter realized that this mortal boy was his mate. A male was his mate? Who would have guessed it?
Peter was so caught up in Y/N's smell that he accidentally tripped over his own two feet and came crashing to the floor in the middle of the hallway. Books, pens, papers, and Peter's Walkman of Nirvana went all across the floor. The sounds of laughter and ridicule were heavy on Peter's ears as the entire hallway saw his little slip up and started laughing and pointing at him.
The young werewolf would have gladly tore through everyone in school, especially, Argent, but the calming scent of his mate filled his nose, and Peter watched as Y/N kneeled down beside him and helped him pick up his stuff. "Shit, man. You okay?" Y/N asked once Peter was on his feet again.
Peter's head was still dizzy from his mate's scent, and it took everything Peter had not to take him right then and there in the hallway. He swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks, man. Guess I slipped on the floor wax." It was a lame excuse, but Y/N didn't seem to be interested in Peter's lies. He was looking at a cassette Peter's Walkman had dropped. "Dude, you like Pearl Jam and Metallica too? I love these guys."
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Peter looked at him and smirked. "Me too. Maybe we should hang out sometime and listen to them?"
"Definitely." Y/N smiled.
The bell rang as Y/N looked at Peter. "Better get to class. Hope you're okay, Peter."
"Thanks for the help, Y/N." Peter smiled as the young man flashed him a smile and left as Peter finally found his mate.
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nevvdrinksteaa · 2 months
Text
history // charlie walker
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~~
pairing: charlie walker x reader
original prompt: you’re paired with charlie walker for a school project, it gets dirty
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn WITH plot, afab!reader, slight angst (charlie thinks you hate him for like 5 whole minutes) pet names, oral (male and female), dom!reader, sub!charlie, begging, making out, fingering, whatever the fuck it’s called when you grind against sheets to make yourself c*m, overuse of the nickname ‘char’, never written for dom!reader before (bare w me), no specific reference to body type !! please let me know if i forgot anything!
word count: 3.1k
this is NOT proof read so if there are any mistakes ignore them! i believe that anyone of any shape or size and anyone of color can enjoy this. i don’t believe there is any description of physical appearance (please please correct me if i’m wrong, i don’t want to make assumptions about anything!!)
please send in more stuff for me to write because i’m in the mood to zoom 🫡
~~~
1:40 PM
you sat in history, your last period class, shaking your pencil hearing it tap, tap, tap with every move. eyes trained on the clock wishing the last twenty minutes would fly by quicker, eager to get your weekend started.
“for this project, you are all going to be in partners”
everyone shot up from their bored positions at their desks, starting conversations with friends deciding who’s working with who. you look over at your best friend, grinning.
“settle down, your partners were pre-chosen. i think we need some variety in the groups we see”
the class started to groan as the teacher stated that the partner lists were posted on the board, stating specifics on the projects and that it will be due on monday. everyone started to get up from their seats to check the list on the corkboard at the front of the room. you started to write down ideas, assuming your partner would find you.
of course it’s due monday, there goes my weekend. what’s the point of your parents going out of town if-
“uhm hey, i think we’re partners”
you look up, noticing charlie walker standing at the front of your desk, looking at the floor in front of him.
“you think or you checked the list and know?” you smirk at him, giggling to yourself.
“you got me there, i saw it on the list” he states, settling in the chair beside you.
he started rambling, talking about ideas he has for the project.
“okay charlie, here's the deal” you state bluntly, “my parents aren’t home for the weekend and i really want to get this project finished as soon as possible so i can have friends over on saturday”
he was taken back at your tone, shocked at the rude nature. he figured you didn’t like him, and wanted to get it over as soon as possible so you didn’t have to be seen with him. why else were you so angry when you had always been so sweet to everyone? weren’t you two friends?
“well we can do it after school and work on it today, i’m good at history so we should finish it really soon” he says quietly, trailing off towards the end.
“perfect” you say, grabbing your phone and handing it to the boy. “give me your number and i can text you my address”
the final bell rings and the class starts to gather their things. you sit up from your spot at the desk, collecting your books to leave. “i’ll shower when i get home and you can come over after, does three work?”
“sounds good.” he doesn’t look up from the desk as he’s still writing down notes.
“see you later, char” you say, giving him a smile he doesn’t notice.
walking back to your locker, you catch yourself thinking about him and how awkward he is, finding it indearing. you were excited to work on your project with him, you had a crush on him for a while and you hadn’t had any courage to say anything to him.
you grab your things and start the trek to your car, stopping your friend to tell her about your plans for today on your way out.
“the universe is giving you signs partnering you up with charlie, maybe it’s time to tell him about your crush.” she says, shoving her shoulder into yours as she walks.
“yeah right, he’s so infatuated with kirby i would just embarrass myself if i told him i liked him.” you state rolling your eyes. “he’d laugh in my face probably”
“he’s too sweet to do all that” your friend says stopping once you reach her car, “charlie walker is probably not the type of person to be rude about letting someone down, he’d probably say thank you and talk about a movie that’s about to come out”
she unlocks her car as you laugh at her joke, trying to ease the nerves in your stomach. you wave goodbye and turn to leave, hearing your friend shout out her window “don’t do anything i wouldn’t do”
you laugh as you walk to your car, sitting in the drivers seat and starting it before heading home.
maybe she’s right, i should just say something.
~~~
you wipe the steam off of the bathroom mirror after stepping out of the shower, skin red from the burning shower you took. you start to pat your damp skin dry before you heard a knock on your door. checking the time to see it was 2:45. fuck, he’s early.
you wrap yourself with the towel tightly before you start down the steps to answer the front door.
“hey” charlie starts, face starting to get beat red after noticing you in a towel. you notice him start to fidget with his hands.
“you’re early char” you say opening the door wider and waving him in. “you can wait in my room while i get dressed, it’s upstairs next to the bathroom”
you both start to walk up the steps and you point to the right when you get to the top. “it’s on the door on the left, get comfortable and i’ll be right there”
you hear charlie hum and grip the strap on his bag before he turns to your room. you step into the bathroom and finish getting dressed, drying your skin and putting on comfortable shorts and a crop top. you head back to your room and stand in the doorway, noticing charlie with his back to the door, looking at the pictures and vinyls hung on your walls.
“you’re not going to steal anything, are you?” you tease, sitting on the middle of your bed with your bag, pulling out your history books.
“of course not” charlie says, “just looking at all your stuff”
he takes a seat across from you, where he had preset his books and notes from class. you grab your phone and turn on some music, asking if the choice was okay and a hum of approval in response.
“so, where should we start?” you ask.
~~~
you guys worked on your project for about an hour before you heard your stomach growl. you drop your pencil and look up at charlie who was scribbling away. “are you hungry, char?” you ask
he hummed no at your question and you started to get anxious at his lack of response, he normally would talk your ear off about anything and everything. “is everything okay?”
“yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“you’re just really quiet today, i wanted to make sure everything is alright with you.”
“i just want to finish this project so i’ll get out of your hair, i know that you don’t really want me around”
his response caught you very off guard. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, shaking your head back and forth softly. “what are you talking about?”
he shrugged his shoulders, not looking up from his lap.
“char, look at me” he looked up at you, trying hard to keep eye contact. “why would you think that?”
“you said earlier you wanted to get the project over with so you could make other plans this weekend.”
you noticed him look back towards his lap and you were confused on what he was talking about
“i figured since you don’t like me, you wanted to get rid of me quicker”
your eyes softened, realizing you didn’t phrase your comment from earlier properly. you immediately felt bad, you never wanted him to think that you didn’t like him. you liked charlie, quite a bit actually. he was very smart, charismatic, and oh so sweet; you couldn’t believe he thought you hated him.
you scooted closer to him, setting his hand on his knee. he looked up towards you with a nervous expression.
“i don’t hate you, i’m so sorry that i made you think i did. i was just upset earlier that we were given a weekend project the same week my parents were out of town” you gave his leg a little squeeze
“oh” he replied, holding eye contact with you. “now i feel stupid”
“don’t feel stupid, it was all my fault. i’ll hang out with you all weekend just to prove to you i like you.” you paused, wanting to say something more. you took your hand off his knee and put it in your lap, looking at the ground, you took in a deep breath.
“actually char,” you start to trail off, feeling the nerves all the way down to your toes. “i really like you”
“what?” you felt the bed move, charlie shifting in his seat
“i don’t expect you to feel the same, i know you have a crush on kirby, robbie told me a while ago, i just felt like i needed to tell you before i lost the courage to”
charlie didn’t say anything, he felt so dumbfounded by your sudden release. he didn’t know what to say, he liked you to, he just never knew how to express it. he liked how kind you were to everyone and how you always loved to listen about everything he has to say.
you got up from your seat quick, anxiety crashing at his silence. “i’m so sorry, just forget i said anything. i’m going to grab a water” you state, heading towards the door
“wait” you heard him get up from the bed and head towards you, “do you mean it?”
you make eye contact, “of course i mean it, i wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true char”
he stood directly in front of you, “i like you too”
neither of you said anything after that, all that could be heard was both of your breaths and the quiet sound of radiohead coming from your phone. he looked between your eyes and your lips.
“do you want to kiss me charlie?”
“yes” he says softly
you felt his lips on yours, pecking slightly. he was so nervous, you knew you had to lead
“do you want to make out with me?”
“please” he nodded quick, looking back to your lips.
you lean forward to kiss him, hands moving up to the back of his neck. you could feel his hands on your hips, barely making contact. you slightly pull away, catching your breath.
“please touch me char”
you felt him grab your waist, pulling you back to his lips. you rake your fingers through his hair, pulling at the root slightly. he whimpered at the feeling, gripping your sides harder.
you started to walk the both of you slowly toward the bed, not breaking away from the kiss. you settled into his lap, feeling his hands glued in place.
“you can touch me anywhere” you say breathless, pulling away
“i’ve never done this before” he admits shamefully
“we can do whatever you feel comfortable with.” you reply, playing with his hair.
you felt one of charlie’s hands leave your hip, slowly heading towards your chest. he let out a breath when he felt you weren’t wearing a bra. he was gentle with his touch, as though he was scared to break you. your hand found his and pressed harder, encouraging his movements.
he started to kneed his hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your nipple. you let out a soft moan, pushing your lips back to his. you started to grind your hips back and forth, earning a breathy sound from his mouth. he opened his eyes to look up at you and you took the opportunity to bite the bottom of his lip, moving immediately to his neck, rubbing his cock with your hands.
“is this okay baby?”
“fuck- yes please”
you start biting and kissing the skin below his ear, moving your hands to start unbuttoning his shirt. he shrugs it off his shoulders and you start to make your way down to kneel on the floor, kissing and sucking his skin on your way. you look up at him as you fumble with his zipper, batting your eyelashes at him. he sits up slowly to help pull his pants down, taking his underwear with him. he sets his hands on either side of his legs, slightly gripping the sheets with nerves.
you take his dick in your hands, shocked at the size, before spitting on it. you rub your hands up and down earning a moan from charlie.
“fuck- please i-” he trailed off when you kissed the head, tasting salt on your lips.
“please what baby?” still stroking his cock
“i need more, i want more please”
you lick a long strip from his balls to the tip before putting him in your mouth. slowing going up and down using your hands to help with what you can’t fit. you grab charlie’s hand, moving it from his side to the top of your head. he laces his fingers in your hair, slightly pushing and pulling with your movements.
“i think i’m going to cum”
you pull off, stroking him quick with your hands, “are you going to cum in my mouth char? be a good boy and cum in my mouth for me”
he nodded, eyes shut tight as his head leaned back. “say it charlie, tell me”
he opened his eyes, locked with yours. wiping a tear from your face, so fucking pretty.
“i’m gonna cum for you like a good boy fuck-”
you went right back to work, taking him deeper and blinking the tears from your eyes. you wanted to see charlie cum so bad, you felt your hands move down inside your shorts. rubbing your clit over your panties.
“fuck, i’m cumming, please let me cum. wanna be good for you”
you moaned around his dick and felt charlie grip your hair harder. his dick started to twitch and you felt your mouth get hot, cum filling your throat and mouth. you pulled off slowly, swallowing as you went, keeping your mouth open to pump the rest of his cum on your tounge.
charlie was a rambling, moaning mess. whispering how good it felt and how good you were. he saw you give his dick one last kiss and come back up to meet him face to face.
“thank you”
you gave him a quick kiss, giggling. “you don’t have to say thank you”
he wanted to say it a hundred times over, he couldn’t believe that he just got head for the first time. “can i…” he trailed off
“can you do what char?” you sounded so innocent, like you didn’t just finish choking and gagging on his dick.
“can i do you now?”
you got close to him, kissing up his neck. “you want to eat me out baby?”
“yes, please. please let me make you feel good”
you nodded and stood up from your seat next to him, pushing your notes to the bottom half of the bed. you slipped your top off and pushed your pants down your legs, getting comfortable by your pillows. “come here char”
charlie was quick to move above you, taking your lips to his, touching anywhere his hands could move.
“i might need some help” he sighs sheepishly.
“start by moving all the way down” you say as you give him a quick kiss for encouragement. “do whatever you think is right, i’ll tell you if i don’t like it”
he nodded and moved to your neck, kissing and licking, keeping his hands roaming. you felt him reach your nipples, his hot breath close before sticking his touch out to lick one. he saw your lips open to let out a quiet gasp of air and started to suck, earning a moan in response. he moved his hand, pinching and pulling at the left while he kept his mouth at the right, then switching.
“just like that pretty boy” you said as you move your hand to play with his hair.
he was blushing at the pet name, feeling his cock getting hard against your hip. he started to move down, kissing anywhere and everywhere he could, scared you’ll change your mind. he makes it past your stomach and to your thighs, gently pulling them apart.
he lets out a subtle groan, “so pretty” he mumbles. “can i touch you?” he says rubbing his hands up and down your thighs.
“of course” you sigh, anxiously waiting for his touch
he slowly brings his hands to your pussy, collecting your wetness on his fingers and spreading it around. he finds your clit and starts to rub in small, slow circles, watching you raise your hips slightly.
“right there baby” you say closing your eyes.
he brings his mouth to your pussy, licking a long strip from your hole to your clit. “you taste so good” he says lowly, almost to himself. he continues to play with your clit and eat you out. trying different rhythms and motions based on your movements and sounds.
“char, please put a finger in. i’m so close”
charlie is quick to push in and up, finding that sweet spot. you grab his hair, pulling at the root.
“fuck yes, right there”
he can’t help it, all the mumbling and moaning makes him start to grind into the bed, intoxicated by you. he can feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your silk green sheats.
he slowly slides in a second finger, curling them upwards, taking your clit between his lips and sucking softly.
“i’m gonna cum” you felt your body start to feel fuzzy, stomach pulling at the feeling. “fuck charlie, i’m cumming”
you felt yourself tighten against his fingers, grinding down on his tongue, which was eager to lap up your release. you heard him whimper, seeing his hips stutter against the bed.
he pulls his head up from your pussy, making sure to not look at you in the face. “i’m so sorry”
you look at him confused, leaning forward to see the wet spot on your sheets. you smirk at him, grabbing his hand and licking your juices off his fingers.
“don’t be sorry, this was amazing,” you lean forward to kiss him “and knowing you came from eating me out is kinda hot”
you giggle as you lean back, still catching your breath. charlie moves beside you softly rubbing your hand. “so what do we do now?”
you look up at him, “well” you start lacing your fingers with his “for now, we lay here until we fall asleep. then tomorrow morning we’ll wake up and shower and maybe finish where we left off”
charlie grins from ear to ear, “oh yeah?”
“i mean, if that’s alright with you” you mumble
“being with you is alright for me” he says, kissing your forehead.
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writeonwhiskey · 5 months
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the skz house: ch 5 (18+)
a/n: happy tuesday. hope you all had a great christmas or whatever holiday you celebrate. here is my gift to you!
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Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.
[ read chapter four here ]
Chapter Five: Of Mirrors and Lessons
The entire ride back home, Chan keeps his hand on your thigh, sometimes resting, sometimes gently squeezing. You couldn’t possibly forget the fact that you’re sitting in a car with him, but his touch serves as a constant reminder that he’s there without feeling overbearing. It actually soothes you, which should be concerning. However, since it doesn’t seem like you’ll get any outright form of compassion from him, maybe you have to learn to appreciate these subtle gestures.
Back at the house you and Charlotte clean up the basement while the other girls work on dinner. You gather up the empty pizza boxes and paper cups into a large trash bag as she works on wiping down all the surfaces. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to her much prior to this, but you can tell she’s the quiet, introvert type. 
When you ask, she tells you things with Han and Jeongin are going well. You hold in your surprise when she says Han hasn’t tried anything with her yet, but she and Jeongin had made out a few times—one of which you saw last night. 
Her words make you curious what everyone else has been up to. You’ve only had one night with Hyunjin where all you did was kiss, but your two nights with Chan had been filled with far more intimate acts and barely any kissing. Were the others taking things just as slow? 
You finish cleaning and hoist the trash bags up the stairs. Felix and Changbin spring up from their seats at the table when you two emerge from the basement. They take the bags from you and put them outside.
Hyunjin is the only one missing when it’s time to eat—he has an evening class tonight. Chan eats in the living room, watching a baseball game with Seungmin. You eat in the dining room next to Felix and even after you’ve cleared your plates, you continue talking to him. He shares information with you freely and it’s a bit of a relief. His minor is in Game Design and Development, his dad and Chan’s dad are extremely close, so they grew up together before venturing to the states. You’re invested in what he’s saying—you really are, but you keep catching yourself being distracted by the dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. They give him such a boyish charm, especially when he smiles, that’s directly contradicted by the amount of bass in his voice. 
Your phone buzzes and you check it, seeing a text from Chan. A wave of nerves flow throw your body as you open it. 
Chan
waiting for you
You put your phone face down on the table. You know what’s coming next. He told you this afternoon. You don’t know what to expect. You do at least know that you shouldn’t expect rose petals and candles for your first time with him. If there are candles, he would probably be using them to drip wax over you. You panic at the thought. You don’t know what he’s in to, but you’re learning. It’s not difficult to believe he may like some kinky stuff, though. For now, all you know for sure is that he likes to exercise his control over you. 
You hate to keep thinking of your ex in uncertain moments like this, yet you can’t help it. You simply can’t imagine him speaking to you or treating you the way Chan does sexually and you just allowing it to happen. Chan has a specific presence or aura, if you will, that asserts dominance and you’re growing more and more attracted to it. No matter how much you want to resist. 
You’re startled at the feel of a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at Felix, his chestnut brown eyes pouring out concern.
“You alright?” He asks in his low voice. 
“Yeah,” you reply with a light chuckle, not wanting to worry him. “I’m gonna head upstairs now.”
He squeezes your shoulder a few times and nods.
The walk upstairs feels like a death march. You’re moving slowly, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever is to come. 
____________________
Chan is sitting on the edge of his bed, facing you. You’re leaned against his dresser, naked after he asked you to remove your clothing. He still has his clothes on, which you can’t even think is unfair because what’s the point? Fairness doesn’t exist with him. You can’t even bring your arms up to cover yourself. So you stand there, watching him watch you, neither of you speaking. 
You wonder what’s going through his head right now, because all you can think of is how much you want him to touch you, to cover your bare body with his. You don’t know if it’s right to yearn for him after how he’s treated you—or is that the very reason you do?
After what feels like slow, painstaking hours, he stands from the bed and walks to you. He places his hands on either side of you on the dresser, caging you in. 
“Do you want me, y/n?” He finally breaks the silence, lowering his head to look you in the eyes. 
What kind of question is that? You do, don’t you? You know he doesn’t mean in the way he’s had you the last couple of days, he means actually fucking you this time. But will he be rough? Will it be painful? Will you like it? Your sexual experience is rather vanilla, so the thought is just as thrilling as it is frightening. What if it’s bad? What if it’s good? 
You lick your lips and slowly nod your head. 
He smiles down at you before moving forward to capture your lips with his. It’s a slow and passionate kiss. You tell yourself all his unspoken words are bottled up in it—that he doesn’t mean to make you feel awful, that he chose you for a reason. 
“Take my shirt off,” he says when he pulls away from you. 
Your grab the bottom of his shirt and lift it up and over his head. You drop it on top of your pile of clothes, never taking your eyes off him. 
He takes each of your hands in his at the wrist and places your palms on his chest. He slowly guides them down his pectorals, his abs, all the way down the ‘V’ shape of his lower abdomen that leads into his loose fitting sweatpants. His skin is soft and the muscles beneath it feel solid against your fingertips. 
He moves one hand lower than the other, to the waistband. You curl your fingers around it and he pulls your wrist back. He now pushes your other hand lower and you slip it into the sweats. All you feel is skin—he’s not wearing any boxers. He releases your wrists and puts his hands back on the dresser, swooping down to kiss you again as your fingers wrap around his already hard cock. 
It feels good to have him back in your grasp. You stroke him as he deepens the kiss, his tongue snaking inside your mouth. You bring your other hand up to cup the back of his neck, pulling him harder against you. You can’t kid yourself—you want to give yourself to him. You want to know what it feels like to have him inside of you. 
As if reading your thoughts, he breaks the kiss. 
“Turn around,” he says.
You waste no time in doing as he bids. 
You’re now facing the mirror attached to his dresser. His arms are still around either side of you, flexed and deliciously toned. He’s looking at you through the reflection. It’s the first time you’e seen yourself next to him. Your first instinct is to feel inferior, but with him this close, and you enclosed in his arms, you can convince yourself it feels and looks right. 
He stands up straight and places his hands on your hips, squeezing them. His hands slide up and down your side in a way that tickles, causing you to move away from his touch. His lip quirks up at you through the mirror. 
His hands cup your breasts and you watch your reflection. It almost feels as if you’re removed from the scene—watching for a separate type of pleasure. His gaze is fixed on your body as he plays with your nipples. You can’t help but move your hips back against him. 
He pushes your breasts together with one hand as the other slips down to your pussy. You immediately move your feet a little further apart to which he chuckles. 
“Chan,” you breathe as his hand finds its home between your thighs. “Be good to me tonight.” 
Your words come out as a soft plea. 
He responds by kissing you on the cheek as his fingers slowly slide back and forth across your pussy. You don’t know what to make of that response. He’s proven himself to be good at being a sour patch kid—sour then sweet. Or sweet then sour in his case, actually. 
He pushes down his sweatpants and slowly lowers you down so your chest is pressed against the dresser. He takes a moment to admire his handy work from the night before, rubbing and squeezing your ass. You keep your eyes locked on his reflection, your breath fogging up the mirror now that you’re so close to it. His hand leaves your ass and moves to his cock, gripping it at the base as he slides it up and down your slit. 
When he’s settled at your opening, his left hand grabs your hip, holding you in place. Your eyes are locked on each others as he slowly slides himself in. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, steal a moment for yourself to revel in the feel of him inside you. But you also want to remember how he looks right now. The way his lip is caught between his teeth, eyes filled with some kind of lust. 
You watch his face intently. He averts his gaze and sucks in a breath as he watches his dick move in and out of you. One hand is still at your hip as the other uses your shoulder for leverage. You prop yourself up on your elbows and push your hips back to meet his thrusts. The side of his mouth quirks up at your movements.
You moan as he starts moving faster, dropping your head to the desk and squeezing your eyes shut.
He doesn’t like that.
You feel his hand move from your shoulder to the back of your head. He tangles his fingers in your hair and yanks your head up. Your eyes snap open just in time to see him leaning down towards you.
“Watch,” he whispers in your ear, “I want you to see how good you look when I fuck you.”
You moan again at his words, looking at yourself in the mirror, watching as your tits bounce up and down with each thrust. He lets go of your hair and uses both hands on your hips to bring you back and forth against him, harder, faster. 
He keeps fucking you, panting and grunting while you watch. As his movement quickens and he grits his teeth, he abruptly pulls out of you, taking a step back. He takes a deep breath and slaps your ass. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream. You moan and look back at him with soft eyes. You want more. 
“On the bed,” he says. 
You step from around him and walk to the bed, turning around to face him when you’re near it. He steps out of his sweatpants and kicks them to the side.
“How do you want me?” You ask. 
“Now you’re being a good girl.” He nods his head with a crooked grin. He places one hand on his cock as he walks towards you, stroking it. “On your back.” 
You sit on the bed and scoot back on it before laying down. He puts his knees on the bed, still stroking himself as he looks down at you. 
“Fuck, y/n,” he groans. 
The way he says it, the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm. You want him back inside of you. He pushes your thighs apart one at a time with his knees and lowers himself on top of you. 
“Hands above your head.”
You put your hands up so they’re resting on the pillows and he holds them together with one hand. With the other he guides himself back into you. Once inside, he moves his hips ever so slowly, in and out. 
He presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing it in teasing circles. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together behind his back. You start to move your hips against him, wanting him to go faster. 
He looks up to you and gives the tiniest head shake. You stop your movements with a soft whine. 
He picks up the pace, watching your face contort with pleasure. Whenever you let out a moan and move your hips against his, he slows back down. He repeats the process, squeezing your wrists together as you try to free them. You want to at least touch him, but he’s too content playing with you. 
He brings himself closer to you, first kissing you, then moving down to your breasts. He takes each nipple into his mouth, in turn, licking, nipping, pulling at it with his teeth while he looks up at you. All the while still rubbing your clit with his other hand each time he pulls his hips back and has access to you. The sight of him ravaging your body is one you hope to never forget. 
The stop and go of all his combined stimulation starts to peak. You tighten your grip around his waist. 
“Fuck me, please. I’m gonna—“ You let out a moan, as he bites down hard on your nipple.
“Ah-Ah,” he shakes his head again, looking up at you with your nipple still between his teeth. He sits up and releases your hands, resorting back to his torturous, slow hip movements, hands resting on your knees. “Remember lesson number two?”
You blink up at him, trying to focus on what he means. It’s hard to think of anything else when he has you this close to release. Lesson two? You think back to your second night and it dawns you.
 “Chan,” you say his name slowly, moving your hands up to his chest. “May I? Will you please make me cum?”
He grips your thighs and readjusts them so your legs are on one side of his neck. He lifts you upwards at an angle and wraps his arm around your thighs as he starts pounding in to you with fervor. His other hand continues playing with your breasts. Groping them, slapping them.
“Fuck,” he says as you dig your nails into his arms now that your hands are finally free. 
You watch, enraptured by the sight of him above you. His abs contracting with each movement. His hair disheveled, some of his bangs sticking to his forehead. His skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. You’ve never seen him look better.
“You wanna cum?” He asks.
“Please,” you beg, nodding your head.
“Who do you belong to?” He growls, slapping a hand to your breast and squeezing it.
“You,” you reply without hesitation, flinching at the pain.
“What does that make you?”
“Yours,” you breathe, as you continue to hold yourself back from release.
“Say it again,” he pinches your nipple between his fingers.
“I’m yours,” you whimper, wrapping your hand around the opposite side of his neck from your legs. “I’m yours, Chan.”
“Good,” he says, eyes on yours as he smirks and fucks you. “Cum for me, y/n.”
Your back arches as your toes curl. You use all the strength in you to pull him down to you, stealing a kiss as your orgasm courses through you. He doesn’t resist. He doesn’t get upset. You’ve quite literally never been so bent as you are in this position, but you don’t care. Having him kiss you wildly as you cum around his cock is absolutely worth it. 
As you’re still coming down from your wave of euphoria, he sits up and pulls your legs apart. He grips one thigh in each hand and continues thrusting into you. You’re moaning—it feels so goddamn good, you could cry. 
He throws his head back, grunting and tightening his grip on your thighs as he finishes. 
His movements start to slow, his breathing turning into soft pants. He lets go of your thighs and lowers himself to you again. He brushes your damp hair back from your face as he looks you deeply in the eyes.
“That was lesson three,” he winks. 
An unexpected laugh falls from your lips and he chuckles, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment. You feel like your heart could soar right now. A genuine laugh shared. 
“Grab on to me,” he says. 
You wrap your arms around his neck and lock your legs around his waist again. He scoots you down on the bed then picks you up, carrying you into the bathroom. You bury your face in his neck, smiling—sex drunk. Happy. Delirious. 
He holds on to your waist as he turns on the shower, keeping you in his arms while the water heats up. There’s no light on in the bathroom, but his shower head flickers from blue, to green, then settles on red. His hands tangle in your hair again, gently tugging on it to pull your head up from his neck. His eyes search yours for a moment and you have no idea what they’re trying to convey. He pushes your head towards him and kisses you slowly. The kiss is tame and unassuming—it’s not leading up to anything further. It’s just two people temporarily caught in the haze of their connection.
He takes you into the shower with him and leans you against the wall as he continues kissing you, letting the water drip between you. You don’t know how long this high will last, he could go right back to being an asshole in the next minute, so you want to enjoy this version of him as long as you can.
[ read chapter six here ]
a/n: share your thoughts <3
tag list: @iflmho /@skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @kayleefriedchicken / @krayzieestay
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kindledrose · 5 months
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LIFESTUCK ?!?! (pt 2 here!) (pt 3)
i was sick a couple days ago and spent like 12 hours straight doing nothing but classpecting life series characters and then was like Yeah i have to draw this now. so here's some sillies 👍 (super long classpect ramble under cut because i spent far too long on it not to share hfshjf)
quick note: i really really love @/classpect-navelgazing's theories and used them for a lot of the ideas here. go check their blog out it rules :]
ok you guys flower ranchers (scott tango jimmy) are making me so insane for this au specifically because of this idea i had about doom/life players. doom in true canon is related to inevitability, fate, and knowledge of the specific rules that keep the characters trapped within their story, right. and life is sort of related to healing, physically and mentally, within the confines of the game. so within this au, the aspect of life refers to the rules within the game that the players can see and are aware of (last life’s trading lives system + boogeyman, third life’s soulmate mechanic, secret life’s tasks, etc.). life players have some amount of dominion over these elements (depending on their class, of course). doom on the other hand refers to everything surrounding the games (stuff like admin powers, the world barrier, and whatever happens to the players after they die). 
as a mage of doom, scot (his name is so funny to me. like yeah he sure is) has a bunch of intrinsic knowledge about the way the games function on a logistical level. he’s like a guy who read the script a while ago and forgot all the characters’ names but knows the basic plot and how it’s going to end. or who knows all the ins and outs of tech crew and for whom the apparent magic of the show for the audience is lost on, since he knows how it’s being done. the thing is, scot isn't especially able to act on this knowledge during the game. what director wants someone in the audience — or one of the actors — taking all the magic out of the show, spoiling how it works and how it ends? no, it’s best if they keep that knowledge to themselves — and so scot’s narratively unable to affect the stories of those around him, even his close friends who he’d want to help. he’s aware of this, of course, which makes him more than a little depressed, as he can see the futility of it all and can’t even explain to anyone what’s going on and how the game works. (the only story he’s able to affect, of course, is his own. which. depressed doom player + mage martyr complex + guy who Really cares about his friends is not necessarily a good combination.)
the amount of stock i put in the idea of gendered classes is close to zero so tangoe gets to be a maid of life because ohh my goodness. i like the theory (thanks classpect-navelgazing) of life as “the aspect of affluence,” where life players usually enter the game with some kind of material wealth or status that helps their position in some way. i also like the idea that maid players start the game with a surplus of their aspect but often end up feeling as if they’re only seen as a provider of that specific thing as a result of this, and so end up longing for something else instead. this primarily applies to last life tango because that’s the season i’m most familiar with lol, but i thought the way he started out with so many lives there and quickly dwindled as a result of everyone taking from him and only him was Really interesting. mans has all the luck of the game he could need, but only wants friends to actually be able to live with. being a life player also ties into his little gambling games and things (again, dominion over stuff within the overarching game/story, but nothing beyond that).
then we get to jimi (again fantastic name). the basic premise of an heir is that they’re played by their aspect, right and Oh Boy is jimmy played by life in the life series. i don’t personally know much about anything he’s done other than heehoo canary guy but along with the previously stated points it’s So fun to see him as a life player because it allows for some really clearly contrast between the way he interacts with tangoe and scot based on their aspects. i really like the idea of scot being like “you’re a life player jimi. it's in your name. the game is not going to let you die” and jimi like “you really think so? aw thanks man” neither of them knowing that dying as a life player in this game is literally like in the job description. (ok. i kind of feel like i’m letting jimi down by basing his story so far around other people.. but this is just for fun and i can always change it later)
(also i could easily have put tangoe and jimi as doom players too but for the fact that i don’t think they necessarily see through the game as much as scot does (or at all). and so life it is.)
feel free to ask me questions abt them!!! i have so many thoughts about this bro 
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ohforfluffssake · 2 years
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Jacob's No Pressure Guide to Learning How to Enjoy Art Practice
DISCLAIMER: I own none of this. All of it is just an abridged version of the Drawclass (link: Drawclass 04/29/2022: Jacob's No Pressure Guide to Learning How to Enjoy Art Practice - YouTube). Please watch the video for the full experience, context, and nuance.
So, recently Jacob Andrews from Drawfee taught a class on how to practice art without putting too much pressure on yourself, and honestly, it was excellent. Do give it a watch if you're also facing a wall in getting started on art practice (also subscribe to their channels and support them on Patreon for more excellent content :D). Since I don't really have a good memory for basically anything, I did what I usually do to memorize stuff: I made notes. This blog post is basically just for me, but I'll be glad if it helps other people too. (again, all credit to Jacob and Nathan for the excellent Drawclass).
The Rules
Rule #1: Pick any 5 days during the week to practice. Take your break days whenever you want.
Rule #2: Set a minimum time for each day that is easily achievable. Continue drawing after that only if you feel like it. 
Rule #3: If you miss a day, it doesn’t matter. Just try again the next day. (Avoid thinking of it as maintaining your “streaks”)
Rule #4: Do NOT try to do a good job (Practice is INPUT). The only judgment you get to make is if you drew or not.
Rule #5: Focus on something you want to improve on each week. It can be as general or specific as you want it to be.
The Schedule
Day 1: Draw from imagination to the best of your ability
the aim is to get warmed up and also to get a baseline for the week
Jacob’s Example: Jumping poses, 15 minutes
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Day 2: Speed sketching 
numerous and fast drawings from reference
Fast is subjective, whatever feels comfortable for you (the upper limit is 3 minutes, Jacob does 30 seconds to 1 minute)  
Not going for detail, just capture the structure and vibe, as fast as you can
No need to even save it
Jacob’s Example: 10 minutes, ~1 minute for each reference photo (reference photos from Pinterest)
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● Nathan’s sketches from the same reference photos:
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Day 3: Reference drawing
Pick references (the number is up to you) and spend a little more time with each one
Capture details and complexities this time (like if day 2 was poses, then in day 3, try to capture musculature or folding of clothes etc.)
Doesn’t have to be a one to one copy, you can stylize
Another thing you can do is lower the opacity of the reference image and place your sketch over it to see which areas need improvement. In case of Jacob’s example, he mentions that the torso and legs are too short (areas of improvement which he was already aware of, so in general he tries to keep those in mind while drawing).
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Nathan’s sketches from the same reference photos: 
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Day 4: Style study
Take a look at how professional artists portray the topic you’re studying
It helps you to develop shorthands and your own style
Pull up references and try to imitate to the best of your ability
Can also draw over the reference pics to understand the shape language and flow (but don’t simply trace the drawing)
Also try to notice shapes made by the negative space
Basically don’t mindlessly copy, this is “active copying”
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● Nathan’s:
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Day 5: Draw from imagination again
Put together what you learned throughout the week
Compare with day 1 (hopefully, you will notice improvements)
Changes will be incremental, don’t be discouraged!
Jacob’s example: 10 minutes of free drawing:
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● Nathan’s:
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I hope this was helpful. Good luck with your art practice!
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fatuismooches · 2 months
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4.5 potion-making event makes me have many thoughts about Dottore and Reader...
You two definitely tried potion-making before, originally for the sake of classes in the Akademiya. However, both of you got interested in making potions for personal use - well, surprisingly for each other. Zandik would make you strength/endurance etc enhancing potions for making you carry stuff on long trips to the desert... On the other hand, you'd make him tranquil/relaxing potions so he wouldn't be so irritated, and hopefully could either persuade him to go to sleep, or take it a bit easier while researching. You always loved choosing the cute bottles and decorations for the potion (which he found to be useless but whatever!) Eventually, normal potions would turn out to be far too boring to concoct so you two would sometimes dabble in more dangerous ones illegally. There was probably a time when the dorm was nearly blown up in the middle of the night. Zandik stopped potion-making in the room after that.
Lisa talks a lot about how doing this is like reliving her old days at the Akademiya. I imagine fragile reader would feel the same way. There are not many things you can do properly with your current state, which often leaves you upset and bored. It irritates you to see others help him with research (that was your responsibility!) So it would be cute if Dottore invited you to create potions with him once again. With lots of precautions of course. Unfortunately, you'll have to stay away from the exploding agents for now. You keep the potions in your room to admire the pretty colors.
Also this with a specific segment. I think it's a pretty popular hc that each segment has their own research specialty/interest so it would be cute for one to specialize in potions/alchemy... many thoughts are being made as you start coughing hysterically from the smoke as a result of another explosion that happened all the way down the hall.
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glitterinmyveinss · 3 months
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Hey er ive never done requests before and I don’t really know how to work tumblr at all so I hope I’m doing this right but anyways I saw your post about wanting someone to request Reese Wilkerson stuff and I just wanted to ask if you could make a post just for headcannons about him? I haven’t seen too many on here and I need them so bad 😭
ofc i can! tysm for requesting and ik a lot of other people sent requests for reese too n i'll get to them soon it's just i have an irl crush rn so the delusions aren't really delusioning apologies <3
Reese Wilkerson Hc's
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ok i noticed that in the halloween episode in season 7 i believe he's wearing a misfits shirt !! so i think he would like punk, grunge, pop punk, and nu metal. like misfits, descendants, nirvana, limp bizkit, blink 182, sum 41, sublime, beastie boys, really anything punk related
definitely watches wwe and if you're over you're watching it too
he loves watching his favorite scary movies w you and he loves how you like them too!
if you don't like scary movies he dosent mind either bc that just means you'll be hiding in his arms the whole time so he wins either way
i feel like when he first met you he definitely played a prank on you to get your attention or just annoyed you but once you sorted that all out, you join him on his pranks and he swears he's never liked a girl more
if you're smarter than him and you offer to tutor him he'll only do it under one condition: he gets a kiss everytime he gets something right
might be self projecting but he's def a boob guy.
everyone has this image of him as some psycho tough guy but play with his hair and he'll just melt. especially if you have acrylic nails! his head will be in your lap while you guys are watching tv n you'll be playing with his hair and he'll be as quiet as a mouse and malcolm will just be like "how did you do that."
loves it when you borrow his clothes. especially his hoodies. it just does something to him
tbh i feel like he could go for someone with either a more edgier look ( think avril lavigne or bill kaulitz) or someone with the girly 2000s look ( think britney spears or any of the playboy bunny girls )
once you guys have an established relationship he'll spend all his time with you! at first he wasn't sure if it was ok but now that he knows you really like him he's so happy!
i don't think he's big on pda i think hand holding is as far as hell go but i don't think he minds if you kiss him on the cheek
but once you guys are alone omg
cant keep his hands off you!
he's either super horny or super cuddly no in between
you and him always get stuck babysitting jamie and he'll be doing the most normal thing like putting jamie's shoe on or feeding him and youre just stuck staring at him bc he looks so cute!
dates usually consist of movie marathons, him cooking something for you guys, concerts, theater trips, or something really spontaneous like taking a trip to another city just bc you guys were bored.
walks you to all of your classes <3
malcom n dewey really like you and think you keep reese sane
ties your shoes
if you guys have a class together he's always doodling in your notebook whether it's something cute or raunchy
i think he struggles with self image so he needs a lot of reassurance
if you have pets he somehow has an immediate bond with them. they just love him!
he try's really hard to remember things you like for future gifts/dates
i feel like he gives oddly specific compliments, but he has good intentions
"you smell like a slutty fairy"
"is that supposed to be a good thing?"
"duh."
the same way he secretly loves watching soap operas with his mom, is the same way he loves watching all of your shows. like the oc, dawsons creek, whatever you're into!
he would give the best and most thoughtful homemade gifts. tb to when he gave lois little jars of jam! he'd probally do something similar but according to your taste <3
gets jealous easily
it's hot/ cute tho
memorized all your favorite pastries/baked goods n makes them for you when he's feeling nice/ as an apology if he messes up
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florenceafternoon · 6 months
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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━
This post is just some of my current favourites because I don’t think I have the energy to make a master list right now. Personally, I like to read aus so if you're looking for canon stuff this isn't the post for you.
For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.
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in pursuit of the study of magic by @thequibblah
An immortal magician au or, "we had a really bad breakup three hundred years ago, but neither of us realised the other is immortal until we met today"
I recommend you listen to About You while reading this
Growing (in love) by casablancas21 (on ao3)
Uni au where "James Potter has a lot going on for him. His uni years have been the best he's ever had and his friendliness, popularity and charm go a long way to place him as the go-to bloke if one's looking for a good time. Nevertheless, his final year of school finds him struggling to keep up with the social energy that once enthralled him. He's having a hard time figuring out how to set his own boundaries and what to do about his future. He's also having a really hard time figuring out Lily Evans."
I must admit that Lily's comebacks are so good I've used some during class debates in sociology this year. Truly, the dialogue and dynamics between characters in this fic are so good. Pretty sure this is the one with the kebab
Golden Waltz by evanspotter (on ao3)
Lily Evans wants to be the best ice dancer in the world, which means she needs to find a dance partner ASAP. After two failed partnerships, her coach gives her one last option: James Potter.
This fic is the reason I neglected revising for midterms. It also caused me to go into a deep dive into watching tapes of Olympic ice dance programs specifically Virtue and Moir.
on the way home by keep_driving (on ao3)
Lily was living abroad and pinning from afar. After an abundance of "phone calls, mixtapes, and long waits," Lily is finally coming home. I believe this fic is inspired by the song You Are In Love.
When I say jily is friends first, and lovers second this is what I mean
Dancing With Our Hands Tied by @athenasparrow
But despite his best efforts, he couldn’t take his eyes off her figure as she moved effortlessly in rhythm with whatever song she had playing. He learned she was wearing more than a t-shirt when she slid across the kitchen on her socks, throwing her head back to sing words James wished he could hear.
OR: In a world where social distancing reigns supreme, two strangers find themselves confined to their apartments with love only a window away.
The way I binged this fic at school between classes. love love love
The Season by @missgryffin
This is a regency (Brighton) au where "James Potter, Duke of Peverell, has returned to London just in time for the season, where Miss Lily Evans is about to make her debut. Only, he’s not looking for a wife, and she’s not particularly interested in a husband."
I love the dialogue between Lily & James as well as Sirius & Lily's relationship (for those who know Brigerton, it reminds me of Ben and El's relationship).
A Misstep Of Fate by hogwartslivy (on ao3)
A muggle historical au where "he waited for her on the edge of ballrooms and in the shadows of parties. He waited to dance with her, to spin her in his arms, to be the one she laughed and smiled with. He thought he was doing the right thing, allowing time to pass them until they were ready, so he had waited. But it seems, he made a misstep. He's waited too long now she's slipping through his fingers."
My boy is stupid and in love but it's okay because she is too. Their idiots, but they’re my idiots
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
A Princess Diaries au in which "with only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter."
chaos ensues and Emma deserves long service leave (the place would fall apart)
foreigner's god by clarewithnoi (on ao3)
answer to a Tumblr prompt: "we were lovers in a past life" but the current incarnations are enemies-to-lovers, and they don't remember anything from their past selves.
The back and forth between them is so good. low-key I teared up a bit but it has a HEA
An October of Unconventional Courtships by @ghostofbambifanfiction
Two phones. Thirty-one days. Eighteen tuxedos. A Jilytober texting fic.
A classic that everyone should read
Shelf Awareness also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Modern bookstore au where "It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there."
One of the first ever jily fics that I read and I fell in love with their dynamic straight away
Careless Texter also by @/ghostofbambifanfiction
Answer to the prompt, “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are,” with some twists and differences.
Trackside by @hogwartslivy
James Potter is Formula One’s most impressive young talent, making up one half of the championship winning team at Gryffindor Racing. He’s got a reputation for playing dirty on, and seemingly off, the track but when an article quoting a particularly vulgar comment made by him at last years final Grand Prix is released, it seems he may have pushed it too far. Potter faces two options; fix his public image or give up his seat.
When my two obsessions meet
it's (always) you by @kay-elle-cee
A multiverse of 31 meet-cutes for Jilytober 2023.
Honorable mentions to chapter 3 for high!Lily and chapter 7 for fulling my love for jily regency aus
Key Limes by cgner (on ao3)
Fame au "in which Academy Award winner Lily Evans discovers the periphery of internet fandom and the mysteries of Prince James’s gold star system."
Because James is actually just a giant build a bear and lily is an icon as always.
See You At the Next Stop by kayrma (on ao3)
Lily Evans meets a posh-looking bloke with messy hair on the way back to London, and for once in her life she actually enjoys a train ride. Maybe having a spontaneous seat partner isn't that bad after all.
Shoutout to the notes on this fic because whoever wrote it is a mood
Nom De Plume by @annabtg
James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?
(Rated E for later chapters)
Like did you read that summery because personally I was waiting for the author to complete the story so I could binge it
victorem (requires an ao3 account ) by gryffindormischief (on ao3)
(Olympic) Ice dancing au. "When God closes a door, sometimes you have to jump out a window."
Lily and James (and Sirius) aka the dynamic duo
Phone Service by @confuded-gryffindor
Moddern muggel au "in which James and Lily meet twice, both through their phones."
some with arrows, some with traps by @isahorcrux
Fame au. "Then: James Potter was a beloved child star and the lead of a popular YA franchise. Lily Evans was just getting her big break as his romantic lead in the third installment. While their chemistry got rave reviews, if the rumors are to be believed the two actors can barely stand to be in the same room together.
Now: Lily’s paid her dues and ten years later she’s the most in-demand actress in Hollywood. And James...after back-to-back flops at the box office, he’s just looking for a break and a chance to prove he is the amazing actor everyone thought he was going to be."
Much Ado About Nothing, but make it Jily
The group chat is the level of chaos me and my friends extrude every free line we spend together
Charred Pineaple Margarita's and a Bagel by @chiechie97
The guy at the coffee shop was hot. Hot and he knew her order. But that didn’t mean ANYTHING. Especially when he seemed to know everyone’s order. And besides, Lily is far too busy to be thinking about the hot guy that always has her breakfast waiting for her. Right?
Lily and Remus are me
and i know you too well to say you're perfect by @ofmermaidsandmarauders
“Yeah, you were a pretty big moron.” “Hey, I said idiot!”
Lily's not really sure when James Potter, soccer extraordinaire, took over her life with Harry.
What the summery said
The next few fics are all by @wearingaberetinparis or ritaskeetered (on ao3) who is the reason I joined the jily fandom. Single handedly enabled my obsession and I've never been more thankfull.
The Very Regency (Un)Ladylike Guide To Fortune-Hunting
Regency au. "Without thinking highly either of men or matrimony, marriage had always been her object; it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want." (Jane Austen)
Lily Evans finds herself wanting, or: so her sister seems to believe. While out on the hunt for a fortune - again: that would be Mrs Dursley mostly - the affection of a number of suitors is most welcome. Especially when a young Viscount's heart is set aflame.
Screaming, crying, punch me in the face (Lily's version)
Jump (For My Love)
Royalty au "When you are the Prince of England, the last thing one might expect is to be jumped from behind by the most beautiful woman one has ever seen, who - in turn - seems to have no clue at all and mistakes one for someone else. Surely, Prince James has the right to be disproportionately upset about this. The question is; does he need to?"
Baby, It's Cold Outside
Olympic au. James, being half Greek, had always dreamed of one day going to the Olympics. Now, at his second Winter Olympics – having won a surprising bronze medal at his first one – James has been dubbed Team GB’s hero before the games have even started.
Lily, being the daughter of a waste collector, had always dreamed of one day making her parents proud by exceeding their expectations. Now, she finds herself on a plane to China together with her boss, Minerva McGonagall, and a crowd of winter athletes representing Team GB at the Winter Olympics of 2022.
The paths of James Potter – overenthusiastic snowboarding hero – and Lily Evans – passionate overachiever – cross at the 2022 Winter Olympics when James Potter is asked to be Team GB’s flagbearer at the Opening Ceremony (and quite a few times after that as well).
The repetition of "James, being half Greek..." worked so well for the flow. I don't know how to describe it
A Game Of Thrones
Modern royalty au. Lily Evans had never imagined she would meet Prince James, but when she does at St Andrews' annual Christmas Pub Crawl, her whole world is turned upside down. For who thought that a girl like her - with a sister that reads "Hello" magazine like it's the Bible - would end up with a prince like him?
Euphemia Potter you will always be famous
flowers
A musician au that hilights sexisim in the music industry. "Singer-songwriter Lily Evans has played gig after gig, has been the opening act to many a headliner, but her big break seems a million miles away. When one night – after playing in her friend Marlene McKinnon’s bar – she receives messily scrawled lyrics on a napkin by a certain Monty Python, her life and career are turned upside down, leading her all the way to the Grammy's."
Lily my love, you deserve everything you've worked for
If You Knew Who Was Talking
hopelessly_devoted and genuinely-conflicted form each other’s support system online, cheering one another on as they battle their way through an unrequited (and most definitely unwanted) crush on the person their parents are trying to set them up with.
In the real world, James Potter and Lily Evans find themselves hopelessly devoted and genuinely conflicted when battling their persistent infatuation with the last person they would have ever liked to fall for, stubbornly fighting their family’s and friends’ convictions that they were born to be together.
If only they knew who was talking.
FOOLS the both of them.
glitter in the sky, i’m spinning out waiting for ya
For her thirtieth birthday, Marlene McKinnon and Mary McDonald gift Lily Evans the thrill of a lifetime: a tandem skydive. What no one expected? For Lily to end up in the hospital as a result with her ankle covered in soul marks.
everybody is a sexy baby, and i'm a monster on a hill
Ficwriter au. "James Potter and Lily Evans are fandom famous. Both are prolific and popular writers within the Marauders fandom, but they have completely ignored the other's existence for two years after a Tumblr misunderstanding. Now, they are paired up for the Valentine's Marauders Challenge and - forced to interact - they find out that they may be more compatible than they ever could have imagined."
Is this not the dream?
fastening myself to you with a stitch
Fame au. "Anyone who has never heard the names Lily Evans and James Potter before must be a boomer. The two actors have dominated the box office with their films in the past nine years, more often than not starring opposite one another. Whether tasked to portray mutual pining, passionate hatred or fiery love, Potter and Evans make the screen positively buzz with the taste of opportunity."
it's all happening without me
Normal People (Sally Roony) au. "At school, James and Lily pretend not to know each other. James is wealthy, popular and the star of his school’s football team, while Lily wears second-hand school uniforms, is the school pariah and resented for her smarts. At James’ house, however – meeting there due to Lily’s mother’s housekeeping job – they form an intense connection they desperately try to conceal to the outside world.
A year later, James and Lily both attend Hogwarts University where James has found his feet and made friends he had longed for his entire life, while Lily remains uncertain and haunted by her problematic past.
Throughout their years at university, James and Lily circle each other, trying to resist the magnetic pull between them, whilst coming to the realisation that the both of them may be more religious than they ever thought they were."
Mother knows best. Mary, never question your writing skills because this fic proved that you are a phenomenal writer. The emotions you evoked coverered the entire range of human emotions
It's Coming Down, It's Coming Down Series -
Weird, But Fuckin' Beautiful
When Lily Evans is invited to spend Christmas with the Potters, she finds that she can simply not refuse. It’s an offer she cannot resist for several reasons, the most important one being that she would much rather spend the holidays with Fleamont and Euphemia than she would with Vernon and Petunia.
So what if she had conveniently forgotten (or has she?) about the fact that the Potters have a son - a Formula 1 driver at that - who she can’t seem to get off her mind? (Mightily annoying that, seeing as he has made clear exactly how he feels about her and it’s not exactly giving her any hope.) It’s not as if she can’t control herself.
Or so she very dearly hopes…
Tonight Feels Impossible
But after a night spent together in a hotel's honeymoon suite, she doubts she ever will and fears it might be her downfall.
To All The Kudos I've Left Before
Ficwriter au set in university. "Fanfiction is the guiltiest of pleasures that Lily - twenty years old and studying at Hogwarts University - freely and happily indulges in. She reads fanfiction whenever she has a moment to herself and goes crazy whenever her favourite author - Artemis - updates or uploads another one of his works to Archive Of Our Own. Leaving them comments and the ensuing banter between them back and forth - however fleeting - makes her heart race and preoccupies a fair amount of her thoughts, which - in turn - angers her best friend.
James Potter has never had to suffer from an inferiority complex. His parents and friends are supportive of his every endeavour and this includes his habit to write fanfiction and put his written work out there in the void for his readers to enjoy. His readers are highly supportive too - Lilium being his absolute favourite - that is, until he starts to receive the vilest of comments from a number of guest accounts and starts to question his entire online existence.
What Artemis and Lilium don’t know? That they might know each other a little better than either of them ever bargained for."
The title says it all ❤ ❤❤
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