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mxvladdy · 3 years

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What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself. They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait. “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me headcanons #this was fun lol #requests

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because-of-a-friend · 3 years

Text

BF!Wonwoo Comforting You

MASTERLIST

Gonna start working each of these Wonwoo requests in between all of the others lol. Thanks for the request anon! (If your request is bc you were stressed with uni life, I really hope finals season went well/is going well and that you made it through the spring semester alright!!!) Sorry it’s kind of short :(

(Gif is not mine, if you like it pls go give love to the OP and do not repost it without crediting them!)

Wonnie isn’t always super confident in his abilities to support people emotionally

It honestly makes him a little nervous because he’s sure he’ll say something wrong or make it worse or simply not help at all

So when finals season comes up and he notices school becoming overwhelming for you, his own stress is doubled at the idea of not being able to help you

At first he tries to do little things

He offers to be the one to buy and pick up food

If you have any errands or chores, he’ll offer a helping hand in any way he can

He’ll help you make index cards or little practice quizzes

All of his little efforts to relieve your stress honestly do help

But they can’t stop finals from happening

And when he catches you crying over a textbook one evening, he realizes he might need to step up his game and that you might need help in other ways

He doesn’t want to push or make you uncomfortable

So he approaches carefully

“Hey, baby, what’s going on?” he rests his hand gently on your back before beginning to drag it slowly up and down

“Nothing,” you say, quickly trying to collect yourself, “I’m just a little tired, I guess”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks after waiting a moment to see if you say anything else

You simply shake your head and Wonwoo feels his heart drop to his feet

He finally decides on sitting next to you, continuing to rub your back and waiting as you take deep breaths to calm yourself

“Food?” he says finally, and feels relief when you genuinely laugh through your tears at the suggestion

You nod, and reach up to wipe away the rest of the wetness of your face

To your surprise, Wonwoo beats you to it

He grabs your face in his hands and takes his time make sure every tear is gently wiped off

“Hey,” he says softly to get your attention. “Next time let’s talk this out for real.” He doesn’t want to push you right at that moment but also doesn’t want you to feel as though you have to go at it alone

When you nod at him, he nods back and then pulls you forward to peck your lips

“Ok then, fried chicken or tacos?”

After the first crying session Wonwoo had caught you having, it didn’t happen again for awhile

Since that time, Wonwoo has done a lot of research and asked advice from a lot of people to see how he can be more supportive of you emotionally

So the next time he catches you crying, sitting sort of limply in the middle of your bed

He has a plan

First he simply sits with you and pulls you into him and lets you cry it out into his shoulder

He doesn’t try to rush you out of it or stop you, he just rubs his hands slowly up and down your back

Once you’ve finally finished crying and your breathing returns to normal, he slowly pulls you back to face him

“Do you wanna tell me what’s bothering you? Is it just the stress?”

You shake your head, but take a while to find your voice to explain your feelings

Again he doesn’t rush you, just reaches forward to push your hair away from your face and wipe away any leftover tears

You finally take a deep breath and let out “What if even after I do all this studying, I’m still not smart enough to pass my exams???”

You feel a wave of emotions while admitting your fears out loud especially since Wonwoo pauses for a moment

He only pauses bc on the inside he’s going “????? [Y/N] is the smartest person I know????? Why would they think they can’t pass their exams???”

He finally voices his thoughts out loud, giving you plenty of assurance that you are a smart and capable student who will ace your exams

He takes the time to ask you about this fear more in depth so you can fully discuss it

You feel a little embarrassed about your fear but way more than that you feel relieved after talking it out with Wonwoo, it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders

That night Wonwoo insists you take a break for a few hours

He sets up your favorite movie and orders your favorite food

As soon as you’re on the couch, he basically swaddles you in a fuzzy blanket and spends the rest of the evening pampering you

He basically can’t take his eyes off of you as he watches your stress melt away for the time being

He can’t help but lean over every once in awhile to peck your cheek

Hope you don’t need to get up for any reason during the movie because his arms are locked around you like a deadbolt and they are not going anywhere any time soon

He just feels the need to hold you tight and as close to him as possible, so you can feel his presence and know he’s right there by your side

After that night, whenever you’re studying, Wonwoo always makes sure to make subtle comments about how smart you are and how well you’re doing and how impressive you are academically

He gives you the strength and confidence you need to get through the end of the semester

Wonwoo himself doesn’t tend to get nervous thinking about tests or studying for them

He always gets nervous right before

The jitters grab ahold of him as he’s waiting outside the classroom door moments before the teacher will arrive to let them in and begin the test

To help him counter his nerves you’ve started either walking him to the class or surprising him by visiting him before the test starts

You try to bring little drinks or snacks to make sure he’ll have something in his system before taking the test to keep up his strength

You write him plenty of encouraging notes to stick to the packaging of whatever you bring him

You talk with him about random things to take his mind off of it

Or even help him do some last minute studying on any specifics he wasn’t as confident about

When it’s time for him and the other students to enter the class, he’ll turn to you one last time

And you’ll give him any encouragement you can think of

And a good luck kiss of course

Just a quick peck before you turn him around and nudge him towards the classroom

You wait for him to see a happy and relieved Wonwoo emerge from the classroom

Once exams are over, the two of you spend a whole week just being lazy and doing whatever you want to celebrate

#wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fanfic

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years

Text

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?”

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being.

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.”

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.”

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies.

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.”

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you.

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study.

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced.

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left.

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts.

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt.

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out.

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.”

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester.

💘taglist: @pascalpanic, @mellowswriting

#agent whiskey x f!reader #agent whiskey x fem!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey smut #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #kingsman: the golden circle #study smut #studying smut

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cheolbooluvr · 3 years

Text

you got it, coach

*GIF not mine! but also he’s so cute aksljalkfdja;f

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: just fluffy like seungcheol’s hair :D, volleyball coach!reader

warnings: none unless you count descriptions of seungcheol’s biceps and thighs and a super cheesy pickup line

word count: 2.1k

a/n: this is mostly a self-serving fic bc i’m a volleyball coach LOL but anyways i hope u guys enjoy, i kinda proofread it, but it might still be kind of rough ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

my masterlist ＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／

｡☆✼★ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ★✼☆｡

“Hi, Seungkwan!” You waved to your friend as he ushered his twin nieces into the gym.

“Are you excited for the first game this weekend?” he asked you with a wide smile. Sometimes, you wondered if Seungkwan was more invested in your volleyball team than you were.

“I am, but a little nervous, too. Hey!” You turned to the girls who were chit-chatting on the side of the court. “Go set up the nets!” Seungkwan let out a hearty laugh at your stern voice.

“Nervous? Why?” Seungkwan cocked his head to the side.

You turned back to him, lips pressing into a tight smile. “Oh, you know, game day jitters. I’ve been doing this for a while now, but it’s always the same.”

He nodded, understanding exactly what you meant. “I’m bringing some friends to watch!”

“You have friends who want to watch a high school volleyball game?” While the team had no problem getting a crowd out to their games, you could barely imagine anyone who wasn’t a high schooler or a parent would want to come.

“Yeah, they’re like my nieces’ uncles by extension. They’re super excited to watch the girls play.”

“Oh, really?” You shrugged and checked to make sure the girls were setting up like you had ordered them to. “Okay, well, I’d never complain about having more fans in the stands!”

“I better let you get to coaching, but I’ll see you on Saturday!” Seungkwan put a hand on your shoulder and smiled widely. He admired how relaxed your demeanor was, even as a coach. He knew that if he were in your shoes, he would be much more temperamental and maybe even lose his cool. It was for the best that he watched from the bleachers and not the sidelines. His nieces had complained to you one day that their uncle tried coaching them despite his lack of skill in the sport. You had laughed and told them that you would talk to him, and so you did. Recalling the way he pouted when you broke the news to him, you shook your head and told the captains to lead the warm up.

---

The week flew by in the blink of an eye, and before you knew it, it was game day. You were nervous, but also excited to coach the first game of the season. Throughout your career as a volleyball coach, game day always made you a little anxious, not because you were afraid they would lose, but mostly because you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. It had been that way even when you had played volleyball in middle and high school.

By the time you got to the gym, the athletic director had already unlocked all of the doors and set everything but the nets up. You still had about thirty minutes before you had told the girls to be there, so you figured you might as well set the nets up yourself. Besides, you were the only one who ever did it correctly despite the numerous times you had shown them. You walked to the storage closet and pulled out the cart with all of the poles, nets, and mats. Picking up the metal pole, you made your way to the middle of the gym to place it in the ground. It was then that you realized you had forgotten to remove the plates covering the holes.

“Need some help?” A voice echoed throughout the empty gym. At the entrance, a tall man in a white hoodie stood at the doorway.

“Oh, uh, sure, that would actually be really great!” you said. When he came closer to you, you could see his features more clearly; his eyes were slightly turned downwards behind long lashes that any girl would be jealous of, a curved nose and thick lips that were a naturally bright red. He grabbed the pole from you, freeing your hands so you could take the cover plates out of the ground.

“Do I just put this in there?” The man indicated with his head and you hummed a confirmation. Before you forgot, you removed the other plate and looked at him with a smile.

“Thanks for helping me,” you said brightly.

“No problem. Do you want me to do the other pole, too?”

“If it’s no hassle, then yes, please.”

He smiled at you, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes crinkled at the edges. “It’s no hassle at all.” He took off his hoodie to reveal a black t-shirt that was tight enough to show off his nice body, but loose enough to leave something to the imagination. You watched as his denim pants constricted his thick thighs when he squatted down to pull the pole from the last rack of the cart, his biceps flexing as he pulled the pole closer to him. Walking over to the other side of the court, he placed it in the hole. “I’m Seungcheol, by the way.” He held his hand out to you.

You introduced yourself as you shook his hand. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Oh, I’m just waiting for my friend. His nieces play for the volleyball team.”

Your eyes widened when you remembered what Seungkwan had told you earlier that week. “You’re one of Seungkwan’s friends?”

“I am. And I’m guessing you’re the volleyball coach?”

“I am,” you replied, giving him a gentle smile. “You’re here pretty early though. The game doesn’t start for another hour.”

“Go figure. Seungkwan told me the wrong time and I live too far to drive all the way back home. He told me to come in and find you to see if you needed any help.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of him,” you said.

“Sweet of him?” Seungcheol asked jokingly with a hint of jealousy.

You threw your head back and laughed at the man who was now sulky. “And you. Seriously, thank you for helping, you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. It gives me something to do, and I’m learning a little bit.”

“Oh yeah? About how to properly set up a volleyball net?” The two of you laughed together as he nodded his head. “Well, you’re actually much better at following instructions than my girls are.”

“I can be your official net setter upper-er…” His voice trailed off and the two of you stared at each other before bursting into another fit of laughter. By the time you had finished setting up the net, your team began to trickle into the gym one by one.

Seungkwan and his nieces were the last ones to arrive and you shot a look at him. “Did you stop for an—”

“Americano,” Seungcheol said at the same time. He gave you a knowing look and you exchanged wide grins.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seungkwan waved his hands. “First, yes, I did. You know I need my coffee. Second, what’s going on here?” He pointed first at you and then to Seungcheol, moving his finger back and forth.

Seungcheol shrugged. “Nothing, we’re just friends now.”

Seungkwan huffed and put his arm around your shoulder. “No. She’s my friend. You just met her.”

“We can still be friends, can’t we?” Both Seungcheol and Seungkwan looked at you in anticipation.

You shoved them both towards the doors and shook your head. “You two need to get off my court, I have a team to coach.” They left and headed to the stands that were above the court.

“Wow, this is a good angle,” Seungkwan said, settling in the middle of the seats.

“Yeah, it is,” Seungcheol echoed, watching you move effortlessly as you hit balls at your team and watched them pass them. Your voice echoed off the gym walls as you yelled commands at the girls. He admired the way you were stern with them, but never were you mean. “She’s a good coach.”

Seungkwan nodded in agreement. “The girls like her a lot. She’s tough on them, but you can tell it’s only because she cares. She wants them to be the best, not just as players, but as people.”

“Wow,” Seungcheol’s mouth made a small ‘o’. “That’s a good philosophy.”

“She even told me once that she didn’t care if they lost every single game. As long as they improved in skill level and grew as people, she would be happy. I don’t know how she does it.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I don’t know either. I’m not sure I’d have the patience for it.”

Just then, Dokyeom and Jeonghan arrived and sat down by the two of them. “Wow, is that Sohee and Sohyun’s coach?” Jeonghan asked.

“Yup, that’s her in the black,” Seungkwan replied.

“She’s pretty,” Dokyeom added. He wasn’t fully aware of it, but Seungcheol nodded, agreeing fully with Dokyeom’s statement. The game started and your team started off strong. After a couple months of pre-season training, the girls were well-trained and ready to take on any opponent, and it certainly showed on the court. While Seungkwan, Jeonghan, and DK cheered loudly for Sohee and Sohyun, Seungcheol couldn’t keep his attention off of you. He noticed the way you would clap and jump up and down when one of your girls made a good pass, got a block or kill, or made a good serve, and the way your face lit up watching your team play with such cohesion. He could tell, even from a hundred feet away, how proud you were to see their hard work pay off. Even in timeouts, you looked intense, but the girls looked on, nodding and cheering loudly when they broke out of the huddle. It was admirable, really, the way you carried yourself. As a former athlete himself, Seungcheol had experienced many coaches who yelled and screamed in his face. They were temperamental, narcissistic jerks who tried living vicariously through him and his teammates. But that wasn’t the kind of coach you were. You cared about your players and that showed in your coaching style.

The girls ended up winning the game in three sets and so the four guys made their way to the court to congratulate them.

“Uncle Seungcheol! Uncle Dokyeom! Uncle Jeonghan!” Sohee and Sohyun shouted. They ran and gave the guys big hugs as they were showered in praise for their performance on the court.

“Ahem,” Seungkwan cleared his throat. The girls laughed as they hugged him last and he talked about how cool Sohyun looked when she jumped into the air and spiked the ball down into a girl’s face on the opponent's side. Then he started talking about a play where Sohee dove and passed a ball up with one arm, rolling back onto her feet and getting back into position.

“You looked like a spy!” Dokyeom added. The group laughed and they continued to converse. Seungcheol took this moment to break away from them while they were distracted by Dokyeom’s attempt to reenact Sohee’s move.

“Good game, Coach.” You were packing your notebook in your bag when you turned around to see Seungcheol smiling widely at you.

“Hey, thanks!” you said.

“How does it feel, Coach?”

You chuckled at his words. “Don’t call me ‘Coach,’ it’s weird when it’s not coming from a player or a parent.”

“If I can’t call you ‘Coach,’ then can I call you tonight?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, not believing what you just heard.

“Boo!” A collective groan came from his friends and the girls who had just witnessed the entire interaction.

“Choi Seungcheol, you are an embarrassment to us,” Jeonghan shouted, shaking his head but laughing heartily as he watched his friend’s face turn red. “We’re leaving, but you two take your time.”

“Or you can reject him now and make it short and painless!” Seungkwan added. They walked out of the front doors, leaving you and Seungcheol alone in the gym.

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “That was too cheesy, right?”

There was a silence and Seungcheol knew he had messed up. “Actually,” you said quietly. “I thought it was cute.”

“You did?”

You nodded. “I did.”

“So… does that mean… ?”

“Yes,” you giggled. “You can call me tonight.”

Seungcheol pumped his fist in victory and shouted, “Yes!”

“But first, you’ve got to help me take down the nets first,” you chided with a small, mischievous smile.

“You got it, Coach.”

---

It was safe to say that you and Seungcheol hit it off well after the first volleyball game. Soon, the two of you started seeing each other more regularly and by the end of the season, he was at every game. He had become your official “net setter upper-er,” but you were mostly happy that you had your own fan in the stands.

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feeling-weirdy · 3 years

Note

Hey I’ve been loving your Wandavision pregnancy fics lately and I was wondering if you would consider writing another?

Like something about how Wanda isn’t feeling sexy and Vision is super confused or super surprised by that bc he worships the ground she walks on?

Or like they’re both in the mood (bow chicka wow wow) but it’s hard to find a comfortable position bc of her belly but they make it work?

Idk I’m just addicted to your babyfic drabbles rn and I wanna read more!

Thanks for all of your work it’s the best ❤️

Dinner had gone...well not quite how he had expected.

Vision had promised to take Wanda out on a nice romantic evening and while he had absolutely delivered on that fact, he couldn’t help but notice how distant she seemed. Resting her chin against her hand, she leaned against the table having completely ignored the food lying in front of her.

Yet again, he felt like he had failed her...

Her pregnancy hadn’t been going as well as they had hoped. She had found herself in a great deal of pain and while Vision did everything in his power to help support and distract her, nothing seemed to help. He had quickly run out of ideas. Their special evening should have been enough to lift her spirits, but from the expression on Wanda’s face...he just wasn’t sure this was helping.

Trying to act nonchalant, Vision followed her gaze to the pair a couple of tables over from them. The skinny brunette batting her eyes at the young gentleman sitting across from her. The man in turn was very much interested in every tease the woman threw his way. The two fueled the other’s actions, stuck in a never-ending loop that was sure to go in their favor if they kept this up. Vision looked away, somewhat appalled with how open their display of affection was. Certainly, he had just misread her line of sight...Perhaps it was better to just come right out and ask her.

“Darling, are you alright?” He had really begun to get concerned about her. She had been acting strangely all day and it was difficult to discern if her reaction was just to prenatal jitters or something was really wrong. Wanda had always been so open with him, so her silence made him feel uneasy. “It’s not like you to daydream.”

Wanda was quiet for a moment, her eyes falling from the couple. Her face scrunched, nervously playing with her fingers under the table.

“Vis...? Do you think I’m pretty?” Her shy voice only assisted her attempt to throw him completely off balance.

“Of course, my love. Whatever gave you that idea?” He answered quickly in an attempt to give her no room for doubt. Vision had known Wanda for...well he was pretty sure it had been a long time and he never had encountered this problem before. She had never expressed self-confidence issues before; at least none that came to recent memory.

“But do you find me sexy even after...all this?” She motioned to her stomach, her frown falling further.

“Wanda...” He leaned forward, lowering his voice a bit as he continued his thought. “I find you just as, if not more so, since the day I met you.”

Wanda sat back in her chair, her eyes trailing down to the large bump separating her from the table. His choice of words didn’t seem to quell her fears. “I’m just a lot bigger now. I’m just not sure my...sex appeal is still quite...all there.” Her eyes trailed back over to the couple who had left at some point during her line of questioning. Vision shuttered to think what all the goo-goo eyes and leg rubbing had led to probably not much further away from where they were sitting right now.

Vision guffawed, sitting back in his chair with wide eyes. “I beg to differ.”

“You still think so?” Wanda’s eyes brightened, her smile slowly returning.

“Yes absolutely,” he said, his voice rising and cracking slightly as he looked nervously around the room. “In fact...” Vision pulled himself together, moving forward once more as he kept eye contact with her. “You finish your meal and perhaps I’ll show you just how much I think so once we arrive home.” At least they had the common decency to return home before...whatever those two had planned.

Vision put the random couple out of his mind, focusing instead on the woman sitting across from him. His love and affection had never wavered for her despite her physical appearance changing over the past few months. The fact that she felt the need to question it did hurt some sense of pride deep down, but with her body changing, he was sure there was a reason behind it. Proving his love was never something he shied away from and was more than happy to jump at the chance to put her mind at ease.

“Mmm, I like that idea.” Wanda grinned, hurriedly shoving the rest of the food on her plate into her mouth. Vision couldn’t help but chuckle at the way she reacted to his proposition.

Once Vision paid the bill for the dinner, the two quickly returned home. Upon entering the front door, Vision immediately began to show her exactly how sexy he thought she was. Pressing her up against the hallway wall, Vision kissed her hungrily. Wanda's large belly pushed against his stomach, attempting to keep him at bay, but he found the protrusion a welcome challenge. They laughed at how difficult it seemed to be but allowed it to slow them down even for a moment.

Wanda moaned against his mouth, helping him one step at a time reach the bedroom. Her spirits had been lifted, desperate for any sort of attention he granted her. And there was plenty more where this came from. Her delicate fingers trailed along the cool vibranium of his face, pulling him against her.

Reaching the bedroom, Vision followed her onto the bed, never daring to break contact. Climbing up beside her, Vision cupped her chin, teasing his thumb along the corners of her lips.

Wanda squinted in pain, immediately forcing them to stop. Worrying for a moment that he might have hurt the baby, Vision quickly ran a hand along her stomach.

"This isn't hurting you, is it?" He pulled away from her, worry filling his features as he tucked his hand behind her back.

Wanda’s breath became a bit more ragged as she tried to get it under control. Performing the breathing exercises she had learned from her doctor, Wanda remained calm. After a moment, she nodded.

"I'm alright." Despite her words, Vision kept a steady eye on her. It was difficult to believe her when he could read her vitals from here. Perhaps this had been a bit too much for her.

“Take it easy my love...I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered, pushing himself up into a sitting position as he took her hand. She exhaled, getting her breathing under control as she sat up as well. “We have an entire lifetime to get this right.”

“I really am fine. I’m not entirely sure what that was about, but I think I just got a little too excited.” Wanda took a few more steady breaths, rubbing her stomach in slow, calming motions. “The baby isn’t quite used to all this running around,” she chuckled. He smiled, touching her belly one last time.

“I’m sure he’ll get used to it in time.” Placing one last kiss along her lips, Vision pulled her into his lap so her back was against him. "Here, perhaps this would be easier for you." Leaving kisses along the nape of her neck, he traced a hand along the length of her belly. “Better?”

“Mmm...much.” Wanda leaned into it, basking in the attention. Her breathing had steadied and she finally seemed to be back to normal. Pregnancy had been far beyond what his programming had allowed and his inability to help her with any aspect of this drove him mad. He had read every book on the shelf and yet, he still felt helpless.

Instead, he settled for support. Trying his best to keep her as happy as possible as he simply held her hand.

“You are more perfect than any woman who walks this Earth,” he whispered against her neck. “Absolutely perfect.”

"Oh stop, Vis." Grabbing hold of his hand, she held it tight against her. She had been so excited about starting this family. Vision would give her the moon if he could. She would have to settle for his absolute adoration, which didn’t seem like much in retrospect.

"I'll do no such thing..." He hummed, continuing his soft kisses along any piece of skin that he could reach.

She giggled, leaning back against him with a happy sigh. “Oh Vis...”

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #rini drabbles #sitcom au #the innocence he retains while still propositioning Wanda just absolutely sends me #and thank you so much for the kind words! you have no idea how much that means to me!

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marveloussupernerd · 4 years

Text

It’s Good Luck - Jumin Han

This is the last part (maybe? Idk) of my Jumin wedding series bc all of a sudden I have baby fever and want to write a pregnant series oop. In fact, I had to FORCE myself to write this ceremony. I might write a reception chapter later, who knows. Reminder: this is part of a mini-series but everything can be read and interpreted as one shots if you’re like me and dislike series haha also idk if this even makes sense but I hope you maybe like it?

Summary: they say rain on your wedding day is good luck. Jumin takes that to a new level and proposes you go outside in the rain before you’re due at the reception.

You had returned to your dressing room, watching as the men in the sharp suits carried your flowers and chairs from the tent outside to the building. Why did it have to rain? Sure, they said it was good luck, and you didn’t truly care so long as you were marrying Jumin, but you had looked forward to the outdoor wedding. You had planned for an outdoor wedding, not one inside.

“Don’t worry about it,” your wedding planner comforted you, noticing your mournful expression as you looked at the heavy raindrops running down the window, “We’re going to do everything in our power to bring the outdoors in. Do you want to give it a look-over before we start everything?”

Honestly? It would make you feel better. You nodded, standing up and straightening out your wedding dress. You followed behind her, taking the back way to avoid any guests, and made your way into their indoor venue.

They did a really good job for such a short amount of time. The wall of flowers was up behind the altar, large flower arrangements were set by each row of seats, and gigantic mounds of flowers lined each side of the aisle. It was pretty. Yes, outside would have been ideal, but whatever. This was lovely as well!

“Is it to your liking?” The wedding planner asked, nervously toying with her watch.

You nodded. “It’s very nice. Would it be possible, maybe, to get a different color table cover for the altar? The cream worked well for the outdoors but now it’s a little too... casual.” You had learned a thing or two from planning the RFA parties after all.

“Would you prefer white then?”

“How about an antique white? You cringed internally; you sounded so uptight. But you knew antique white would look best with the color tones of the room. “Oh! If you don’t have it just normal white will do as well.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it set up right now. Any other changes you’d like to make?”

“Is there any way to dim the lights? They’re a little bright... it’s giving me a hospital feel.” You added awkwardly. Your wedding planner walked over to a panel and immediately dimmed the lights. “Perfect. It’s lovely. Thank you for doing all this,” you turned to her, smiling.

“If that’s all you need, I’ll get somebody to switch out the cloth and then we can start seating guests,” she offered. You smiled and nodded.

When you arrived at your room you were greeted with even more surprises: this time there was a masseuse, table set up and everything. “Hi, are you MC? Mr. Han called for me,” she greeted, holding out a hand for you to shake, which you took.

“Oh! What a nice surprise.”

“Yes, he said it was quite urgent. I understand this all must be pretty stressful. My wedding got rained out too, but the good thing is my husband and I have been married for over thirty years now.” The lady seemed very warm; her presence was comforting. You allowed yourself to sit down on the edge of her table.

“I’m not sure how much time we have, but would you mind doing my shoulders and back? I’ve got a lot of tension in there from everything going on.” You still felt awkward being accomadated so well, but it was something you had to get used to, especially because you were marrying Jumin.

“Of course,” you felt her push your veil to the side, fingers gently working around your upper back. “You weren’t kidding: you are tense. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?”

You let out a laugh. “That tradition that the groom can’t see the bride on the wedding day. I’ve been sleeping next to my fiancée for months now. It was hard not to, and the pre-wedding jitters didn’t help.”

“Well,” she commented, her hands hitting a knot by your shoulders and gently trying to work it out. “I can tell it’ll all be worth it. He seems like a very nice man, and he definitely cares about you.”

“Yes, I’m not sure how many other brides get masseuses in minutes before their wedding,” you joked, a fond smile on your face. A knock at the door. The wedding planner peeked in. “You’ve got about five minutes until it’s go time.”

You thanked the lady and went to take your spot, waiting for your entrance. As you heard the bridal march start playing, you anxiously stepped into the room, heavy bouquet in hand. The antique white looked quite nice, you thought to yourself. It was a good choice. In front of the tablecloth though.

How could he possibly be even more handsome than usual? Maybe it was the light gray suit, a stark contrast to his typical black attire. Maybe it was the glisten in his eyes as they watered with tears. Maybe it was the smile that he couldn’t hide- no, he didn’t want to hide. Walking to him felt like running a marathon; it took forever.

Finally your hands were in his. Him mouthing how beautiful you looked, wiping away a stray tear that leaked down his cheek. You didn’t realize you had such a death grip on his hands until he started gently running his thumb over your hands, easing the tension.

“You and me only, remember?” He whispered softly. You wanted to hug him. No, that would be weird. The priest was quite literally in the middle of his speech. You but your lip and looked down at your shoes.

A hand on your cheek brought your attention up. Was this allowed? Why did you never go through this wedding etiquette?

The words spoken were a blur. Jumin recited his vows perfectly, not straying from the traditional vows. The two of you had agreed that you would rather share those thoughts, those emotions, in private. You stumbled over the words when it was your turn. For richer or for poorer? Not only was the statement comical considering the Hans’ wealth, but why was it so hard to say? Jumin’s lips quirked into a smile upon hearing you fumble, and it made you feel better to see him smile like that.

Finally, finally the moment had come. “You may now kiss the bride.” Swept up in the moment, Jumin pulled you close in one swift motion for a kiss. You had agreed to keep it chaste and sweet, but he hadn’t seemed to remember that part of it!!!!! You pulled away before it got too PG-13, planting a kiss on his cheek and promising him more later.

“How soon is later?” He asked, pouting for what was likely one of the first times in his life. “I just want to embrace my wife. We still have a reception after this?” He groaned.

“You’re so needy today Honey,” you teased, the two of you sharing your own moment at the front of the room while the guests filed out.

“We don’t have to do anything. It’s just... I had trouble sleeping last night without you. You can’t blame a man for wanting to hold his wife in his arms and never let go.” He flushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

The guests had finally filed out and it was your turn to leave, greeting them at the exit. “I’ve noticed you saying wife a lot,” you teased, holding his hand tight, your cathedral-length veil wrapped around his free arm so that you wouldn’t trip or get caught up by it.

“Well, I like it.” It was such a simple statement, but it made your heart race. The two of you finished thanking your guests, and it was time for the cocktail hour to start. You and Jumin had planned about ten minutes together without a photographer or anything just so you could take in the events of the day and reflect together. You had been looking forward to it for hours.

“You know all those things you vowed to me?” You asked, staring out the window as he helped you remove your veil. The rain hadn’t slowed; it was wise of you to move it inside.

“Sickness and health, better or worse, rich or poor, those things?” He listed them off as if they were so simple. It made you laugh.

“How about in grace and in stupidity?”

He plopped your veil down on a bench. “What? My love you’re not stu-“

“You wanna go out into the rain with me? It’ll be fun... and we have about eight minutes after to dry off before pictures,” you proposed. It was an AWFUL idea. It was pouring. You had your hair and makeup done. This dress was designer.

“Truly?” He asked, looking skeptically.

“Yeah in retrospect it’s a bad idea. I don’t know, I thought it was good luck or something.”

Out of nowhere, he swept you into his arms, barreling towards the exit to the building. “Jumin!” You shrieked. “I take it back! I said it was a bad idea!”

“But it’s good luck,” he shouted as he swung open the door, trying to be heard over the rain. He looked cautiously at the puddles forming on the sidewalks, then took a deep breath. “In grace and in stupidity?”

“Of course, my husband.”

It was out of a movie. The dramatic kiss in the rain. All the passion Jumin had wanted to put into your kiss when you were standing in front of all your family and friends. The rain dribbling down your back. It made you squeal. He couldn’t stop laughing. He held his hand above your head, attempting to shield your makeup from the rain. It didn’t help.

What felt like eons later, he carried you back inside, setting you on a bench. He tried to keep a serious face, but burst out laughing. You had never heard him laugh so hard.

“Honey? Why are you laughing? Is it my makeup? Jumin!” Nothing could get his attention.

“We may need more than just eight minutes to dry off,” he chuckled, pushing back soaked strands of hair that were hanging on his face. “I’ll call Assistant Kang and let her know.”

“Was it worth it though?” You asked, trying to wipe your face (and failing).

“Oh absolutely,” he pulled you close to him. “I feel luckier already.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han #Jumin marriage

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seanfalco · 4 years

Note

I am loving you and Kat’s Punk!AU fics!! If it is okay, could you write Valdo x Aevryn’s wedding please? I bet it was quite a fun one!! 🙈 🤣

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x oc (Aevryn Swift) Word Count: 2585 Rating: G Tag list: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @coffee-and-stories @whatevermonkey a/n: Thank you so much for this request. I had a lot of thoughts about their wedding, so hopefully it wasn’t too all over the place. I might make a separate post with more in depth headcanons bc honestly there’s so much I didn’t end up writing lol;;;

“How many people are out there?” you asked in hushed awe, your eyes bulging as you glanced out at the sea of people seated across the garden’s lawn in white chairs, decorated in Valdo and Aevryn’s colours: black, emerald, and gold.

“Uhm… I’m not sure,” Aev muttered, somewhat distractedly, sparing an anxious glance at the crowd of guests, most of whom she didn’t even know, but who her parents and Valdo’s had insisted needed to be there, especially since they hadn’t gotten their way with the wedding ceremony -- wanting a traditional Catholic wedding despite their childrens’ lack of religious beliefs.

The sun shone cheerily down over Kensington Gardens while fluffy cheerful clouds peppered the expanse of pale blue sky and a pleasant breeze took the edge off the summer heat. Aevryn couldn’t have asked for a better day to marry her best friend and man of her dreams, so why was she suddenly so nervous? She’d been imagining this day for so long with nothing but excitement in her heart, but now as she paced under the shade of the ivy tunnel she was certain of nothing.

“Hey, how’s Aev doing?” Yennefer asked, her voice pitched low as she came up behind you, her violet eyes flicking over to the bride.

“Uhh… I think she’s starting to freak out a bit,” you whispered back, watching Aevryn continue to pace, her hands twisting anxiously in her skirts.

“Shit,” Yennefer muttered, heaving a sigh as she swept past you to attempt to calm her friend; her emerald skirt swishing around her legs. “Hey Aev, what’s going on? Is something the matter?”

“What if he changes his mind, Yen? What if something happens and-and, look I know I’m being ridiculous,” she cut in with a scowl, frustration plain on her face, “but I’m suddenly very scared. I mean, look at all those people! This suddenly feels so real and Gods I’m shaking now. What if he changes his mind?”

Yennefer threw you a look and you hurried over, placing a comforting hand on Aevryn’s back, patting her soothingly.

“Hey, come on now, we’re talking about Valdo Marx here, he is not going to change his mind about you, of all things,” Yen assured her and you nodded in agreement.

“Yennefer’s right, I mean, he’s loved you since you were kids. He’s loved you nearly his whole life. This is just… jitters. Stage fright,” you explained, hoping your words would help.

Aevryn nodded shakily, as if wanting to believe you both. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” she murmured, twisting her engagement ring around her finger. “I just wish… ugh, I wish I could talk to him...”

“Uhhh,” Yennefer hesitated. Luckily she didn’t have to think of an answer as Jaskier approached, the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes announcing his presence and Aevryn’s head snapped up, her expression warring between relief and worry.

“Jask!” she gasped, enveloping him in a tight hug from which he shot you a reassuring grin as he squeezed her before stepping back.

“You look stunning,” he exclaimed, taking in his friend’s creme and gold gown, complete with flower crown perched on her somewhat wrangled mess of hair.

“Thank you,” she murmured, waving the complement away impatiently. “How’s V? Is everything alright? Is he freaking out too?”

“Please reassure her,” Yennefer cut in, planting her hands on her hips. “She’s turning into a hot mess here and if she’ll listen to anyone, it’s you, Pankratz.”

“Actually, I came as a messenger,” Jaskier explained, his lips twisting somewhat in displeasure at the thought of being relegated to an errand boy, but the expression was quickly wiped from his face as you came to stand at his side, smiling up at him. “Valdo wanted you to read this.” He pulled a small folded sheet from his breast pocket to hand to Aev.

She took the paper and unfolded it, her sea green eyes quickly traveling over Valdo’s neat scrawl before a smile tugged at her lips which she quickly covered with her hand.

“What does it say?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. The other two looked just as inquisitive, though they were trying hard not to show it.

“Oh, you know V. He’s waxing poetic, as usual, but he’s excited to see me,” she murmured, cheeks flushing slightly. “He said he can’t wait to marry me. That he’s been waiting all his life for this day. Stupid romantic idiot,” she muttered fondly, folding the paper up and slipping it into her bodice, next to her heart. “Jask, can you give him a reply for me?”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes but nodded. “I guess,” he sighed, ruining it with a grin. “Is it not enough that I was coerced into being Valdo’s Best Man? Oww!” he yelped as Aevryn punched his arm.

“Jaskier,” she warned, proceeding to jab her finger in his face. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you doing that for him?” she exclaimed, quickly penning a response to her fiance’s letter. “I know you would have rather been my Man of Honour, but V just doesn’t have a lot of close friends…”

“I know, I know,” he relented. “You know I’d do anything for you, Aev. And Valdo’s not... as bad as he used to be,” he admitted begrudgingly under his breath.

“I know,” she replied, smiling softly as she handed her paper to Jaskier to deliver. “Thank you Jask.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he quipped, “and don’t worry, everything’s gunna be perfect, you’ll see!” Flashing his most charming smile at the three of you he quickly turned to hurry back to where the groom and Geralt were gathered.

You turned back to the bride to find her rereading the scrap of paper from her husband to be, smiling softly though her lips trembled slightly with emotion.

—

The look on Valdo’s face as Aevryn’s father walked with her down the aisle was most definitely the highlight of the ceremony. You’d never seen Valdo look so enraptured -- his emerald eyes misting over as he shook with silent sobs. Completely overcome with emotion, his curls bounced slightly and a wide grin broke over his face as Aev stopped in front of him, taking his hand and looking equally as emotional; a single tear rolling down her cheek which he quickly wiped away.

The second most memorable moment was the kiss -- Valdo dipping Aev low without hesitation as she kissed him back just as enthusiastically to the deafening applause and cries from the crowd; your own voice joining the celebration as you caught Jaskier’s eye across the aisle. He looked so happy for his friend that it made your own heart ache with joy, honoured to have been part of their day.

Hands twined tightly together Aevryn and Valdo led the crowd to the reception area, not a far walk away; tables and chairs set up under several tall airy tents strung with hundreds of flickering fairy lights. The dining tables were set with the finest place settings in gold and emerald, and elegant centerpieces of geometric terrariums held beautiful arrangements of succulents. The sight was breathtaking and you joined the couple at the head table, seated next to Jaskier.

—

“You ready for our first dance, love?” Valdo asked, leaning in close to whisper in Aevryn’s ear and she blanched slightly as her eyes swept over the crowd of attendants, which had only seemed to grow after the reception had begun. She caught sight of several influential people and a handful of celebrities and other musicians -- no doubt signed to her father’s and father-in-law’s music label, and swallowed slowly.

“I suppose,” she murmured and Valdo noticed her trepidation.

“Don’t think about them. Just keep your eyes on me, okay?” he murmured, brushing a kiss to her jaw. “Besides, by the time we begin you’ll only have eyes for me anyway.” The smirk he directed her had her tilting her head curiously.

“What are you planning?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him fondly; excitement radiating off her.

“You’ll just have to see,” he replied, pausing to glance out at the guests that were clinking enthusiastically on their glasses, his smirk only growing before he captured her lips with his, giving the audience what they wanted.

Soon Aev was positioned in the seat of honour, unable to completely banish her radiant smile as Valdo took the small raised stage, slinging his guitar over his dark emerald tux while Vicious Mockery joined him.

“Before we begin our first dance, I decided I wanted to set the mood by serenading my beautiful wife,” Valdo explained into the microphone to the excited murmur of the guests, though his emerald eyes never left Aevryn. “To back me up are her closest friends, the band, Vicious Mockery. Aev, this one’s for you. Always and forever.”

Turning away from the microphone Valdo looked to Jaskier. “Thank you,” he murmured softly and Jaskier nodded, a sincere grin flashing across his face before they began playing, Valdo’s eyes once more seeking out his wife. As he began to sing for her she began to cry, tears slipping down her face, one hand coming up to clutch at her throat as the other covered her mouth until Valdo jumped down to join her for their dance, his arms circling her and pulling her close; fitting together like two matching puzzle pieces.

True to his words she didn’t even notice the eyes of their guests on them as they slowly circled the floor, her forehead pressed to his as he murmured affirmations of his love for her; more couples joining them on the dancefloor as the song transitioned.

The night wound on and the moon rose overhead, joined by the twinkling of stars in the clear inky expanse above while the Swift-Marx party raged on, certainly not slowing anytime soon. Aevryn danced with more people than she could count -- sharing a meaningful moment with her own father and then Valdo’s (whom she’d known since childhood and who already felt like a second father to her anyway), before Jaskier cut in, twirling her around the floor, a giant grin on his face.

“Did you ever think in a million years you’d be here?” Jask asked, leaning in conspiratorially, while across the floor from them Valdo was dancing with [Y/N], making pleasant small talk.

“What do you mean? Partying it up at Kensington Palace? No,” Aev replied with laughter, her eyes flashing mischievously, knowing what he meant.

“No, I meant, married to Valdo Marx,” Jaskier clarified, rolling his eyes.

“No. I mean, at one point I did, but then I didn’t. But then I hoped...” She shook her head, her smile faltering. “Honestly Jask, this feels all too good to be true, and I’m half expecting tomorrow to wake up and it’s been nothing but a dream.” Her voice cracked slightly and Jaskier sobered.

“It’s not a dream, Aev,” he assured her. “I meant what I said in my toast. You deserve more than anything to be happy, even if it’s with him. And I’m glad for you.” He paused, glancing over at Valdo, “You know how much I hate to admit it, but Valdo’s really… come a long way, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he really has,” Aevryn replied proudly, her eyes finding her husband. Her husband. The words still seemed surreal. “He’s a good man. He really is, even if he’s not your favourite person in the world, and that’s fine, because he’s mine.”

—

Aevryn collapsed into her chair next to Valdo, his arm instinctively snaking around her waist as she leaned against him, reaching for her champagne glass, downing the rest in one swig. They’d been dancing with their friends in between drinks and had both ended up taking the stage to sing a song together, their voices mixing and harmonizing as if there were no better duo in the world. After the rush of adrenaline both were starting to feel exhaustion beginning to creep in, and Valdo pulled Aev into his lap. She nuzzled against him, smiling as she fiddled with his half unbuttoned dress shirt; his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, after he’d shed his tuxedo jacket.

“How you fairing, love? Getting tired?” He asked, dipping his face to catch her eye; his sweat dampened curls sticking to his forehead.

“A little,” Aev admitted, her fingers tracing his jawline as she gazed up at him. “Actually, I’m getting a little hungry.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he replied, glancing over at the table of food before frowning. “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”

“What are you talking about?” Aevryn exclaimed, snorting a laugh. “This is supposed to be our party, and there’s food right over there.”

“Yeah, so?” he countered cheekily, cocking an eyebrow. “No one’ll notice if we step out for a little while.”

“I think it might be the opposite,” Aev argued, but excitement filled her at the idea. “Y’know I think I saw a pizza place across the street from Hyde Park.”

“Now you’re talking, Swift,” he purred, “or perhaps I should say Swift-Marx,” he added thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. “My clever wife.”

“I like it when you call me that,” Aevryn said, grinning against his lips as she kissed him.

Sure enough, no one seemed to notice the bride and groom slipping away and running off hand in hand down the trail to the park entrance.

——

“Oh my Gods, this pizza is better than sex,” Aevryn groaned, taking another bite as Valdo leaned across the booth, his green eyes flashing.

The other patrons of the small restaurant had given them a few strange looks, as they’d entered, which turned into amusement as they realized the couple was obviously dressed for a wedding -- Aevryn’s poofy skirt filling the booth comically.

“Oh really?” he asked, eyebrow cocking jauntily. “Is that a challenge, dove?”

“Maybe,” she smirked, pulling his deep green tuxedo jacket tighter around herself. “You wanna prove me wrong?” Her voice dropped to a husky suggestive tone that sent a shiver racing through him, and in that moment Valdo wanted nothing more than to hoist his wife over his shoulder and cut out on the rest of their reception to take her back to their hotel room for the night (though he knew he couldn’t do that, at least without bringing his parents’ wrath down on his head).

“Oh, believe me you little minx, I will most definitely be proving you wrong, soon enough,” he drawled, running his fingertip over the back of her hand, resting on the table.

Aevryn set down her half finished piece and took Valdo’s hand in hers. “I love you. So much,” she whispered suddenly. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky. You know that, right?” Her voice shook slightly, as if she needed to get the words out.

A smile stole across Valdo’s face, his heart filled with fierce affection. “Of course I know that,” he murmured in return, “ I love you too Aevryn Swift-Marx. I’ll love you til the day I die.”

“Good. Because all I want is to spend my life with my best friend, making all the best memories.”

“And so you shall, my love, so you shall.”

—

Little did they know that through the window one of the photographers from the reception had followed them, capturing this hidden little candid moment; the pictures of which would become quite popular over the next few days with their fans.

#punk!au #valdryn #punk!valdo #punk!aevryn #punk!jaskier #punk!yennefer #punk!jaskier x reader #punk!valdo x punk!aevryn #reader request #my writing

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dented-nado · 5 years

Note

Also, Trinity post battle at the watchtower.

[[ akfjlkas I ended up doing this one first to break it up, and also bc I wanted to try writing some trinity content –“Promise you’ll go easy on him Bruce.”

“It was stupid, reckless, he could have died. I’m going tomake sure he knows just how idiotic it was.” Batman bit back, still pacing backand forth despite his own just recently patched up wounds as he and Dianawaited.

In just the other room, Superman was only barely coming to, stillfeeling the throbbing pain from the wounds closing that had only just fully hadany traces of kryptonite removed. Batman felt like punching a wall, breaking something, anything.He was going to let that super-asshole have a piece of his mind, that was for sure. How dare he. Howdare he, the one who was supposed to be invulnerable, bullet proof, scarehim like that.

Batman grit his teeth and finally stopped pacing, trying to forcehimself to breathe outside of angry huffing

.“He was trying to protect you Bruce, he… he knew he had a chance tomake it through, and he has.” Diana bit her lip, wrapping a strand of dark brown hair around her finger, half wanting to chooseher words carefully, half knowing Bruce wouldn’t enjoy being coddled. “But you,if you had been hit…”

“I’m not going to have someone else diebecause of me!” He yelled back just as the door slid open to reveal Supermanlumbering forward to intervene.

“Kal! You shouldn’t be up yet.” Diana chided, rushing to his sideto support his waffling stance.

“What you did was stupid.” Bruce said with a deadpan stare, hiseyes that had briefly scanned over Clark’s body to make sure he was healingwell and going to be okay well hidden beneath the lenses of the cowl. “Theywere counting on you rushing in. They were using me as a trap and you fellfor it.”

Clark’s lips drew into a thin line. “Does it ever occur to you,Bruce? What it would do to me, to us, to the league, to yourfamily if we lost you?”

“You’ll get over it, everyone will recover without me. There’speople that can easily take my place if I died.” Batman stated as if it were asimple fact that someone would read in their first grade textbook. “Batman willexist without me.”

Diana stared at him eyes wide and offended. “How could you saysomething like that? Of course you’d be a huge loss. I… I we loveyou, and you’d expect us to just ‘get over it’?”

Batman turned his gaze away from them. “Superman is tooimportant for the world to loose.”

Clark took a bold step forward despite the pain and dull sicknessstill coursing through his body that had yet to fully subside, annoyance atBruce trying to lecture him for saving his life starting to slip into anger.

“I’m no more important than you or anyone else!”

“That’s a lie and you know it! Plenty of people can beBatman, only you can be Super…”

“Dammit Bruce!” Clark yelled slamming his hand back against thewall in frustration. “You think I’m important?! You think “batman” can bereplaced easily?”His rage started to pool back into a deep sadness, starting tohave Clark’s previously angered gaze faltering as his mind raced.“You know who can’t be replaced? You. Bruce Wayne. If anyoneknows how painful it is to loose someone you care about, its you. Do you reallywant to do that to your kids? Put them all through loosing anotherparental figure in their lives? Do you want to make Alfred bury another personhe loves? Do you really want tell me I should haveto look down at your dead body, knowing I could have saved you and stillhad a chance at living through it to spend another day with you… and have to watch you be put into theground… and I’m supposed to just get over it?”

Batman stared downwards, still trying to doeverything to look away from Clark and Diana’s gazes. He wanted to ask for Clark’s forgiveness, be the kind person thatwould rush to their side and soothe them. Admit that he had just gotten scared.Scared that he could have died and left everything behind. Scared that he couldhave lost someone else he adored. Instead, he turned away from them.

“All I’m saying, is you should stop letting your personalissues get in the way of the greater good. If this is going to be a reoccurringissue with you… both of you, it may be best to call it off, put somedistance between us.”

Deep down, saying it made him sick, made his stomach turn. He wasbeing stubborn and yet… if he hadn’t let himself get close to them, hadn’tsomehow unknowingly tricked them both into thinking that he was someone worthloving… well then there was one less thing threatening to take people that gavethe world so much hope for the future away. He wanted to vomit, hearing thedead silence that met his statement, neither of them seemed to be breathing,and all Bruce could do was hope his heart would stop feeling like it had justbeen transformed into a 100 pound hunk of metal.

“… You look me and Diana in the eye… and say that again.”

Clark’svoice was cold, but it carried a slight shiver to it, and Bruce immediatelyknew he had to be shaking. Clark shook when he was stressed. He hadn’t known it was something superman didfor ages. It was something you would never notice unless you wereholding him while it was happening. It was a jitter so fast and so slight, not unlike the fast beat of a mouse’s heart, itwas genuinely frightening the first time Bruce had felt Clark’s hand trembleunder his.

“I don’t need to…”

“No. Kal’s right. If that’s how you really feel, what you reallywant… turn around, face us, no mask, and tell us you want to break it off, tellus you’d rather end everything than be with the people who love you.” Dianasaid firmly, words each hitting him in the back like a ton of bricks.

Bruce took a deep resolute breath despite every inch of his body fighting againstitself, he felt like he was being eaten alive from the inside out. Despite thathe slowly turned on his heel, and pulled of the cowl of thebat, and finally looked them both in the eye, opening his mouth, ready to shoothimself in the foot and put the final nail in the coffin.Then he saw them, really saw them. He saw Clark looking athim, last drops of fury clear but beginning to grow watery with tears that hadyet to fall with fear that he wasn’t going to have the man in his life anymore. He saw Diana’s intense firey gaze piercing through him,challenging him on if he was really willing to tell such a massive lie to agoddess of truth.

His words died before even reaching his tongue and absolutely nothing left his mouth, and heclosed it in shame. His fists unclenched slowly as he stared back at them, hisown icy gaze unable to challenge them, not when it held no real intention ofwanting to push them away.

“You don’t mean it, do you?” Diana asked, fire in her eyessimmering down as her voice took on a softer tone.

“…No.” Bruce finally answered truthfully.

He was a fool to think he could lie to them, truly look them in the eye and say that he didn’t want them. He couldn’t do that, not anymore.

Suddenly he was being compressed in Clark’s arms before he couldeven think about saying another word, unable to do anything to protest a softkiss being pressed against his forehead.

“I’m sorry I scared you. But.. you scared me too.” He whispered.

Damn this man for knowing him too well at this rate.

Diana joined Kal in wrapping her arms around Bruce, pressingherself against his back, her long flowing hair lightly brushing the nape ofhis neck as she softly pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I knew it. But pleasedearest, for the sake of Kal’s nerves, we need to work on this together.”

Bruce closed his eyes, previous stubbornness and dedication toshut everyone out again -an old formula to prevent more pain, more suffering,despite it always seeming to backfire - now replaced with regret

.“…I know. I… I just… don’t want anyone to suffer because ofme.” He mumbled in response.

“I’ll try to be more careful, I’ll even let you make a plan for if something like that happens again, that we can agree on and let you train me on it withoutgetting annoyed… okay?” Clark offered.

“…fine.”

They all shared a quiet moment as some of the stress shed off thethree of them as they stayed, locked in each other’s arms, both Clark and Diana holding their bat tight.

“Now Kal… you really need to lie back down.” Diana scolded asthey slowly let go of each other.

“Alright, alright…” Clark agreed, admittedly still fatigued andin need of a little more recovery time.

“But only if you two keep me company.”

Diana squeezed Bruce’s hand encouragingly as he slipped the cowlback on.

“Of course.” Batman finally agreed, deciding to let himself bedrawn in just a little closer after trying to fling himself out.

He needed to stay with them as much as they needed him. To remindhimself… even if it was hard for him… that sometimes experiencing love andletting himself be loved, was more than worth the risk of loosing it.

#memorydragon #swb #superwonderbat #dc trinity #prompt fill #dc fanfic #my writing #bruce wayne #clark kent #diana prince #I HOPE THIS WAS OK MEM #I WAS SLEEPY WHILE WRITING IT BUT I REALLY WANTED TO HAvE A SHOT AT IT

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dwaynepride · 5 years

Text

Wishful Thinking

Summary: Palm reading. Dank basements. And a very skeptical Sebastian Lund.

Words: 4,164

Warnings: None

Tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

Notes: highkey inspired by that one “avatar the last airbender” episode bc im trashy like that

Sebastian had successfully buried himself in his work. It was a difficult feat, with all the distractions around the office. For a while, he wondered if he’d actually be able to get anything done tonight. You’d think the peace and quiet would lend itself as the ideal working environment, but evidently not.

Because you started laughing again. Echoed and distant in the kitchen, but still loud enough to cut through Sebastian’s focus and pull his head up to look over.

He exhales slowly, eyebrows pulling together as he wonders - not for the first time tonight - what the hell that little old lady was saying to make you laugh so much. Madame Theresa was a fortune teller, not a comedian. She read palms and dealt tarot cards all day - and yet, you were laughing like old friends.

Sebastian’s never been one to believe in fortune tellers. They’re a diamond dozen in New Orleans, and if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. It was just a stroke of bad luck that Madame Theresa happened to be the sole witness in their case. The only person who saw the attack on the dead Lieutenant she had just scammed- no, told his fortune for a fee.

He had no doubt she was probably spouting out the same nonsense to you. She’s been reading everybody’s palms all day.

And yet, despite his reluctance to believe a single word she says, Sebastian can’t deny how curious he is. What she’s telling you. He blames his inner scientist, but Sebastian knows he’s just curious about anything that involves you.

He hesitates. Glances to the front door before standing from his desk and sneaking to the kitchen archway with silent feet. Sebastian flattens himself against the wall, heart beating just a little faster once you speak up again; louder, because he’s so much closer. “Can you tell me something specific? About my future?” You ask, voice bright and curious and Sebastian can’t stifle just a small wave of affection.

“Specific how?”

Madame Theresa’s strong Southern drawl wipes it away.

You hesitate, letting out a shy little huff of air, and he can imagine you shrugging. “Uh, well, about my love life.”

Oh, Score. He came at just the right time. Any sense of guilt about eavesdropping melts away at the intense curiosity Sebastian feels at the fortune teller’s answer. Not that it matters, anyway. It was just a scam.

There’s a bit of silence, maybe a small hum as Madame Theresa reads your palm. Sebastian’s heart beats faster, and he’s suddenly worried about not being able to hear her answer. But then she speaks, her drawl as confident and mystic as it always is. “You already know the person you’re destined to marry.”

“Really?”

Really? Sebastian pushes his head closer to the opening.

“Yes. He’s a very good man. Perhaps not somebody you ever thought you would fall in love with when you met him. But it’s as clear as day, honey, that you two are written in the stars.”

Could it possibly be him? Madame Theresa’s words were vague, at best. But Sebastian doesn’t have much time to dwell on the predication before you speak up again. “Do you know who it is? Like, a specific person?”

Oh man.

“I don’t. But I can tell you what he’s like...”

“Sebastian?”

The sound of his name, loud and ringing through the office, puts a rod in the agent’s spine. He straightens up, whipping away from the archway and looking over as Pride and Tammy come in from the open door. “What’re you doing?” Pride continues as he goes behind his desk.

Sebastian leans against the staircase, attempting to seem nonchalant while panicking internally. “Me? I’m not doing anything.” Smooth.

Gregorio gives a disbelieving snort, her eyebrows knitted together. “Didn’t look like nothing,” she counters.

“I was stretching my legs.”

He holds his breath, preparing himself for a barrage of questions. But movement to his left makes Sebastian turn his head, watching you pad out of the kitchen with Madame Theresa in tow. They must have heard the commotion of Gregorio’s accusations, but the only thing Sebastian notices is the light smile on your face. Barely there, but he sees it.

You turn and look at him. Eyes meeting for a moment before he lowers his gaze with a sudden fierce blush. Did you know he’d been spying?

Sebastian eventually registers Pride’s voices in the background, talking to the fortune teller. “-appreciate your cooperation, your statements really helped us. Agent Y/N can take you now.”

“No, I can do it.”

The offer to taxi the Madame home was out before Sebastian could reel it in. In an instant, all eyes were on him, and he struggled not to shrink under the attention of his team. You, especially, since you seemed to surprised. “I mean, Y/N’s been running around all day and I’ve only been doing desk work. I’m sure they’re tired.”

Tammy is giving him that suspicious look again. Sebastian ignores it in favour of looking over to you, giving him a happy smile that made the awkward moment worth it. “Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate it.”

You part ways with Madame Theresa, and Sebastian pointedly keep his eyes away from Gregorio as he leads her out of the building. Opens the passenger side door for her, and then climbs into the driver’s seat; all without a word. Deep down, he knows why he volunteered to drive her home. But now he’s hesitant - wondering if it’s even a good idea. “So, uh, I overheard you reading Y/N’s palm, back there,” Sebastian says, keeping his voice nonchalant.

He chances a brief glance to Madame Theresa, who wears a light smile. “I was. An’ I’m not about to read yours while you’re drivin’. Keep those skinny hands on the wheel, Mr. Agent.”

“No, no, ma’am, that’s not what I wanted,” Sebastian fumbles out, and his hands squeeze the steering wheel tight. “I just...wanted to know what you saw in their palm.” Sebastian pauses, and then forces the last thought out. “About who they’d marry?”

Madame Theresa is quiet, and he can feel her stare against the side of his head while Sebastian drives in silence. He wants to break contact with the road and look at her; to gauge her reaction to his request. But he stays focused on the road, his heart beating faster than normal until she finally responds. “I dunno. Sounds like something that should be kept between me and your little friend,” she says.

“What? You’re not a doctor; you’re not bound to secrecy.”

A slow, thoughtful hum worries Sebastian as he comes up on her home. He puts the car in park, about to give Madame Theresa the same “thank you for your help” talk that Pride gave her earlier before the elder woman beside him reached out. Wiry fingers curling around his hand and pulling it closer - turning until his palm was facing upward, and she lets out another slow hum at what she finds. “What?” Sebastian can’t help but ask.

The fortune teller traces one of the lines of his palm. “Your love line,” she answers, tone light with curiosity. “Mighty similar to your friend’s. Might even go so far to say they’re connected.”

“Connected?” Sebastian echoes. “What does that mean?”

How the hell can they be connected?

Madame Theresa releases his hand, looking up into his confused face before patting his cheek with a smile. “You’ll see,” she answers. Frustratingly vague and worryingly certain.

Sebastian watches as she walks up to her home, and then starts the quiet drive back to the office. And he isn’t thinking about why he’s putting so much merit on some palm reader, surprisingly.

No, Sebastian is wondering what a love line was.

It was muggy in the swamps, as it usually is, but the team is just thankful that it’s a cloudy day. They were safe from the harsh sunlight and the heat it’ll bring, even if the humidity made it hard for Sebastian to breathe. He was already sweating as he strapped his vest on, wincing as the cicadas assaulted his ears with their loud chirps.

His eyes wonder upward to study the house they’ll be raiding in just a few minutes. Though, “house” is a strong word for this standing pile of wood and stone. Sebastian was sure that either one of them could look at it wrong, and it would fall over. Busted windows, chipped white paint. It looked like there was a hole in the roof, but he was too far away to be sure.

Sebastian was so focused on the house, he barely registered when you came up beside him, nudging his arm with yours to get his attention. “Nervous?” You ask him with a smirk.

“No,” he answers instantly. And he pointedly ignores the flutter of butterflies in his belly. Mostly because he can’t distinguish it from pre-raid jitters, or because you’re standing so close.

You let out a doubtful hum, eyes narrowed playfully. “You were staring off into the distance. I figured you were just worried that something would go wrong.”

“What could go wrong?”

“I dunno,” you shrug, and then give him another nudge on the arm. Softer, this time. “But either way, I’ll be with you the entire time.”

In reality, there was no real reason to be worried. This raid wasn’t for an arrest; Chris found this address and theorized that it’d be a good hideaway for their suspect. The only thing the team expected to find was a murder weapon, if they’re lucky. By the look of it, the only danger was the house itself. And yet, Sebastian immediately felt a whole lot better when you said that, and smiled at him after.

The butterflies were still there, though. They never really went away.

Pride led the way up to old ramshackle house; LaSalle and Tammy behind him while sending you and Sebastian around back. He followed your lead once Pride gave the signal to head in. Barging through patio doors where the windows had long-since been knocked out. Sebastian’s nose wrinkled at the smell of mildew, but he stayed focused on clearing the house. Making sure you were always in his line of sight.

“Clear!”

One by one, Sebastian heard the others clear the large house through the mic. Gregorio and Pride made their way upstairs, but it was clear nobody was home. So Sebastian started to relax a little as he moved his eyes over to you.

The only light to see by was what little sunlight streamed in from dirty windows and tattered curtains, but it was enough to see that you were studying little knick knacks on top of the fireplace. Layers on layers of dust and grime, but they still fascinated you.

Only Sebastian was aware of the long, awkward silence in the room. The heavy footsteps overhead wasn’t enough to drown it out. So, steeling himself, Sebastian walks towards you as normally as possible. “What’d you find?” He asks, nodding to the mantle when you glance back.

And you shrug at his question. “Not much. Just...things that were left behind, I guess.”

Sebastian stops when he reaches your side, taking a look for himself. There were a few photographs that have long since become unrecognizable. A few statuettes; the things you’d expect on a mantle of a house. “I think LaSalle said this house was abandoned during Katrina,” Sebastian says, eyes rising and glancing at the walls. “I guess it’s a miracle it’s still standing.”

You hum in agreement. “Yeah,” you reach out and pick up one of the statuettes, not minding the dust, “still a little sad, though.”

His attention returns to you, turning the dusty little figurine around in a solemn silence. And there’s an unexpected jolt in his chest; you cared so much. So deeply. The sight of a dumpy house and dusty knick knacks were enough to make you care about...what? The house? The knick knacks? Whatever it was, it made Sebastian smile.

And he was so lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed a low, creaking sound. A groan that shook him out of his own head, and as Sebastian started looking around, you did the same with a confused frown. “What’s the sound?” You ask, voice low and cautious.

“I don’t know,” he answers in the same tone. Sebastian takes a step back from the fireplace, and there’s another deep groan - louder, this time. More threatening, and it sends a chill up his spine. Because the noise is coming from the floor beneath his own feet.

You take a step, as well, having not come to the conclusion that he has. And Sebastian didn’t have time to warn you before the old wooden floor instantly started cracking and splitting. Before he could even think about turning and running to safety, the ground underneath him was gone, and Sebastian felt the gut-pulling sensation of free-falling. And the fall itself wasn’t that far; it was only into the basement. A single story, at most. But the suddenness of it made him yell out, and he faintly heard your own terrified screech as the two of you dropped into the dark, dank basement.

It was over as soon as it started. Sebastian was on his back, eyes screwed shut, instantly coughing up dust and dirt and God knows what else. Carefully, he rolled onto his side, cautious of any pain or numbness that might come with moving, but he felt nothing. It doesn’t seem like he broke or sprained anything. He might develop some kind of lung infection from breathing in all this nasty stuff, but for now, he was fine.

And that’s when Sebastian’s eyes shot open, meeting blackness and dust particles that he tried to blink through.

Were you alright?

His head whirls to his left, where you’d been standing on the ground level. And his limbs go numb with relief when Sebastian finds you there, moving around and making little noises. Alright, you haven’t broken your neck or anything, but...

You were groaning. Still slumped against the floor. The drop shouldn’t have stunned you that much unless something was wrong. Instantly, he pushes himself closer, stomach tight with the fear that you were seriously hurt. “Hey, Y/N? You okay? Can you hear me?” He can’t help but belt out question after question.

But you nod anyway. Turn your head to face him, even if your eyes are still closed. And that’s when he sees it; the thin stream of blood trickling down your face from your temple. You must’ve hit your head on something.

His breath is suddenly short. Skin clammy, and it’s a good thing Chris started shouting from the upper floor to bring his attention back to reality. When Sebastian looks up, he barely sees the face of his friend glancing down from above. “Y’all alright, down there?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian croaks out, and then shakes his head. “Uh, Y/N’s bleeding. Probably hit their head on something.”

“We called for some help. Just stay put down there!”

That was easy for Sebastian to do. You weren’t going anywhere, and he wasn’t about to leave you.

Slowly, you were able to blink open your eyes. Just barely, though. Sebastian had a hard time finding the brilliant colour of your eyes. “Sebastian?” You mumble out. And your hand rises, as if searching him out.

He easily grips it tight, nodding his head. “I’m here. LaSalle called for help. They should be here soon.”

You physically relax at his words. And Sebastian is well aware that this situation is a serious one; you were hurt badly. But he can’t stop himself from noticing just how good your hand felt slotted against his. Soft, despite the dust and grime. Natural, as if it was supposed to be there.

He forces himself to focus on you, instead. “How much does your head hurt?” Sebastian asks worryingly.

“Pretty bad. Hard to keep my eyes open.”

Those words sent a jolt of alarm up his spine, and Sebastian starts shaking his head, even if you can’t see him. “No, no, no, you have to stay awake. You probably have a concussion.”

Your head lolls, fighting to do as he says, but Sebastian can tell it’s hard. “So talk to me,” you tell him simply.

Alright. He can do that. He’s never had trouble rambling about dumb topics, in the past.

But now, when you’re asking him to help keep you awake, Sebastian is suddenly devoid of any mundane topics. He’s juggling from one thing to the next, knowing they wouldn’t be enough to hold your attention, until he comes to one that has potential. A topic that’s been on the forefront of his mind since last night. Sebastian hesitates on bringing it up, but his mouth seems to have a mind of its own. “Madame Theresa,” he blurts out, “what kind of predictions did she make?”

For a moment, he wonders if this could be seen as straying into your privacy. But you smirk at the question; at least you’re smiling. “Nothing interesting,” you answer. “Stuff about my career and luck. I’ll be seeing a family member, pretty soon.” You stop, as if contemplating your next words. “And then something about already knowing the person I’m supposed to marry.”

Sebastian’s mouth goes dry. His mind goes blank, and he barely hears your next words. “Did she read your palm? I know you don’t really believe in stuff like that...”

“She read it.”

“And? What did she say?”

He’s hesitant to be honest, in your state. Wonders if it’s a good idea to spill everything that Madame Theresa told him. But your eyes are starting to flutter again, and Sebastian can’t have you nodding off. “She said that my love line was similar to yours.”

That woke you up. When your eyes open up wider than they have since falling down here, Sebastian can’t help but flicker his eyes away. “I’m- I’m sure that just means that I know my future spouse, as well. Which isn’t very surprising, given how many people we come into contact with on the job. Surely, by now, I must’ve met the person I’ll marry, someday...”

He’s rambling again. And you’re focus on him starts to dwindle because of it. He chances to shake you awake, wincing when your eyes shoot open again. “Sorry,” Sebastian says.

“No, it’s okay.” You turn your head to face him, blinking your eyes open against the pull of sleep. Keeping your gaze squarely on him, smirking just a bit. “You’re a good man. If I had to fall through the floor with someone, I’m glad it was with you.”

Your hand tightens around his, as if making sure Sebastian was there and he wasn’t leaving. He squeezes back immediately, mouth opening to ask you some more questions about the dumb palm readings. But there’s a noise from outside the house; it’s faint and barely there, from his position in the basement. But it’s the unmistakable sound of an ambulance siren.

He puffs out a breath of relief, because your eyes were starting to droop again.

Time, unfortunately, seemed to stretch on as soon as Sebastian sat in the empty chair beside your bed. Being rescued by the paramedics, being driven to the hospital, getting checked out by nurses; it all flew past in a whirl. But now that Sebastian was sitting here in silence, each minute felt like five.

The doctor said your concussion wasn’t dangerously bad. That you wouldn’t be asleep for too much longer. Right now, he had a hard time believing him.

Sebastian, for once in his life, let his mind slow down. He was tired; having not gotten too much sleep last night because of what Madame Theresa said, and the ordeal in the house. The sound of your heart monitor was strangely lulling.

Maybe, if the silence stretched on for a little longer, he would’ve fallen asleep. But Sebastian hears you shift under the hospital sheets, and just as he’s blinking his eyes open, that’s when he hears your voice - low and groggy. “Sebastian?”

He sits straight up in his chair, not even attempting to hide the excitement and relief and maybe just a little bit of worry written plainly on his face. The doctor did say you’d be fine, but Sebastian was a scientist. He wasn’t happy unless he can see for himself. “Hey, you’re okay,” he replies lightly, moving to the very edge of the chair. “You’ve been asleep for a few hours. Everyone came by and asked about you before they left.”

“And you stayed?”

Sebastian hoped you’d be too out-of-it to catch that, so he gives a shy half-shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I didn’t want you to wake up all by yourself. If I had a concussion and woke up alone in the hospital, I’d be a little freaked out.” Was there any way to say that and still sound tough? Probably not.

Either way, you’re smiling at him, so it can’t be that bad.

And it was good to see you smile. Despite the bandage on your head and how groggy you look, the smile was just as bright and beautiful as it always has been. Still had the same power to make his heart speed up.

Sebastian didn’t even notice the moment start to drag until the door of your room opened slowly, as if trying not to make too much noise. His head whirls around, expecting a nurse or a doctor who was here to check on you. Instead, Pride is walking through the door, seeing that you’re awake and looking very pleased.

What surprised Sebastian the most is following his boss was Madame Theresa herself. He couldn’t help the blink of surprise. How his spine straightened at the sight of her reflecting Pride’s delighted expression. Sebastian looks back, and you look equally as surprised, if not just a little happy to see the old fortune teller.

And before Sebastian can ask any one of his questions, Madame Theresa takes a step closer to the bed, her smile never wavering. “Agent Pride here told me what happened an’ I wanted to stop by. Check on you myself,” she explains cheerfully.

Your smile widens a bit, and all Sebastian can do was look back and forth between you two. “I’m fine, thank you. Just a bump on the head. I’ll be going home later.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Madame Theresa purrs out, and her hands come to fold together in front of her. “I don’t want’chu two makin’ a liar outta me.”

“A liar?” You echo.

“Mhmm. I told this tall one just last night,” her hand motions to Sebastian sitting silently in the chair, “that your love lines are connected. And I’ve never been wrong before.”

Yeah, Sebastian thought, but you never explained what it meant. You left me to figure it out by myself.

With a light hum, Madame Theresa turns and walks herself out of the room, Pride following her with a confused look on his face. The door shuts behind him, and the room is silent once again. Not the comfortable silence of before; it’s a little more awkward, this time. The two of you waiting for the other to pluck up the courage to speak first, now that the fortune teller left a huge elephant in the room.

“I kinda had a feeling.”

Sebastian’s gaze whips up when you speak, and you smile at the puzzled furrow of his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“That she was talking about you, last night. While reading my palm,” you clarify before averting your eyes down. Were you embarrassed?

His mouth is dry, but he forces himself to speak. “Really? Why?”

You just shrug at his question. “She said I’d marry a good man. One that I already knew. And you were just...the first one who came to mind. And when you told me that our love lines were connected, back at the house, I just kinda put it together,” you explain. And Sebastian could see you were hesitant; as if afraid you’ve read this whole thing wrong.

His face grows warm, but this is no time to be awkward. Sebastian reaches his hand out, carefully curling it around the hand you’ve had sitting on the bed. And immediately, your palm turns to press against his, holding it like you held it in the basement of the house.

But this setting was much more to Sebastian’s liking - peaceful. Quiet. With clean air.

Your head rests back against the pillow, and he can tell you’re pretty close to falling asleep again. And Sebastian elects to let you, as he’s a little too focused on the pair of conjoined hands sitting on stark white sheets.

The grip is loose and open, and Sebastian can’t help but to start analyzing each and every line etched across your palm.

#ncis new orleans x reader #ncis new orleans reader insert #sebastian lund x reader #sebastian lund imagine #ncis nola x reader

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cancerousjojian · 6 years

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award shows | timothée chalamet

anonymous asked: can i request something w timmo: the two of u at the oscars, he’s super nervous bc there’s been so much talk about how he’ll Defs win it & he’s like but i probably won’t like im talking super super nervous all his lil ticks appearing -brushing his hair back even when its already behind his ear, the nervous laugh, twitchy fingers N U JUST MELT, pull him aside for a pep talk and he just stares at u for a bit n tells u he loves u for the first time eeeee (& mayb he wins and thanks u in his speech)

a/n: this is a really good idea and i’m mad i didn’t come up with it myself lol. anyway i hope you enjoy!

warnings: implied smut at the end because i got carried away whoops

words: 951

If it weren’t for the blasting air conditioning in the chill-inducing theater, Timothée would be soaked in sweat from his nerves. There was already a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead from when he was outside just moments ago — doing interviews and walking the red carpet with you by his side. He was lucky to have you there with him, he thought to himself. You provided a comforting shoulder to lean on when his hands shook and his voice wavered with jitters.

He was nervous, to say the absolute least.

You sat at your assigned seat with him, waiting for the show to begin. You felt incredibly proud of your boyfriend, you felt his Oscar nomination for best actor was more than deserved. The media had been buzzing with rumors that he was guaranteed a win which only made Timothée more nervous. On the way to the carpet, he went over a speech in his head over a dozen times you counted. You could understand where he was coming from, being quite a new face in the business and with so many eyes on him already. You could only imagine the stress he was under, especially since he perceived himself as just a regular guy from New York.

His hand was shaking as he brought a glass of ice water to his lips. You felt his foot tapping beneath the table and couldn’t help but find his high-strung energy quite charming. “You okay?” You asked him, setting your hand on his shoulder. He relaxed under your touch, his shuttered eyes looking into yours. Timothée laid a shaky hand on your knee, swallowed hard, and nodded. You could tell from his behavior that he was still neurotic as ever.

You sighed, willing him to calm down with the rubbing of his back with your right hand. He offered you a coy smile and silently thanked you. “Hey,” you said, leaning into him. “It’s going to be okay. Everyone in this room is rooting for you, especially me. You’re Timothée Chalamet! You’ve got this.” You held both of his hands in yours as he listened to your words of encouragement intently.

“Really? God, I can’t help but be so nervous.” He replied.

“That’s normal, Timmy. I’m sure even the best of best still get shook up at award shows. Win or lose, at the end of the day you still have me and everyone who supports you.” Something in his eyes shifted, he gave your hands a small squeeze in his lap.

He exhaled the tense nature he’d been holding onto all this time. “Thank you, seriously, it means so much,” he spoke softly. Your heart skipped a beat when he grinned at you. “I love you.”

You swore your heart nearly stopped completely. All of the people in the large, highly decorated room seemed to cease to exist in that moment, as cheesy as it was. A chill ran up your spine, “I love you too.”

When the lights lowered and the teleprompter turned on, it was time for the show to begin. Your boyfriend nodded over at you and you leaned your leg to touch his under the table; a way to let him know you were still there.

Finally, towards the end of the night, Timothée had began to relax fully, enjoying himself and the show, clapping for his favorite actors and cheering on the newer ones. He’d almost completely forgotten what he was even nervous about — that was until it was announced that they were to begin awarding best actor and best actress.

His hand instinctively found yours with a grip so tight his slender knuckles turned white. The nominees were read out, and you could feel Timothée’s off breaths. His name for Call Me By Your Name was read off the list of nominees, sending his anxiety off the charts.

The simple words ‘and the Oscar goes to...’ spoken out loud were enough to make both you and your boyfriend hold your breath. When his name was announced as the winner, you beamed at him and stood up to clap. He pecked a quick but passionate kiss to your lips before going onstage to receive his award. An overwhelming amount of pride rushed over you and you were sure Timmy felt the same of himself. As you watched his lanky, lovable self walk up stage, you felt genuine happiness, as you usually did when you were in his presence.

You watched from your seat as the roar of applause died down so he could give a speech. He started off by saying how crazy he was to win an Oscar and how important the movie is to society, then he threw in the obligatory “you’re probably all thinking, who is this guy?” before he started the thanking portion of his speech. He thanked his parents, his directors, people he felt were vital to his success. When you heard him thank you, you smiled at him from your seat and blew him a subtle kiss, even winked at him. “I want to thank my lovely girlfriend for basically telling me to suck it up when I doubt myself.” He said, a small chuckle exciting the crowd.

He joined you back at your table where you greeted him with a long lasting kiss. “Congrats, Mr. Chalamet.” You said, earning a look from him.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Hmm,” you hummed and pressed another firm kiss on his lips. “How are we gonna celebrate your award?” You grinned slyly, and he knew exactly what you were alluding to.

Timothée’s eyes widened, becoming hazy. He merely laid his hand upon yours, “That’s to be determined later, babe.”

#this was so fun to write #keep em coming #Timothee Chalamet #timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet blurb #timothee chalamet x reader #Call Me By Your Name #lady bird

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sonofadeanwinchester · 6 years

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Someday Darling (Part Thirty)

Summary: Leaving LA to go to New York to spend time with your brother might just be the worst/best decision of your life.

Words: 1438

Student!Sebastian x Reader; Actor!Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: SWEARING; FLUFF

A/N: If you wanna be tagged, don’t be shy and let me know! ;) This one is specially dedicated to my friend @marvelouslyme96 bc she’s having a bad day and she loves this story.

Tags: @221bshrlocked@marvelouslyme96@shellymaesworld@titty-teetee@pawallday@chameerah@buckylicious@nerdywitch@teresaolivia20 @guera31 @i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn@lancetucker@ssweet-empowerment@ijustreallylovezebras@amandarosemire@zainab2 @jhangelface0523@care-bear-girl@parkerrpeterr@bxxbxy@winter–cearig@beccavesper@mrs-meghan-winchester@amren-tiny-ancient-one

The drive to the hospital was a little awkward with all my mothers' questions for Sebastian. She kept asking about his life in Romania, mostly if he could speak the language. He said a phrase in Romanian and she almost went off the road. He laughed nervously and kept glancing up at me. I had my hand around the right side of me, holding his fingers. She asked about any other languages, he said he knew a little German. We arrived in the hospital parking lot, my mother jittering beside me, she linked her arm with mine as my other hand was still locked with Sebastian's.

"Excuse me." A hefty nurse turned towards us with a bit too much makeup, tattooed eyebrows, and wild red hair. My mother eyed her up and down before continuing. "Yes, I am looking for my husband. I think he is in room 581B?"

The nurse clicked her long fake nails along a keyboard, she smiled and smeared lipstick on her yellow teeth. "Yes, honey, follow me."

My mother looked at me and rolled her eyes, disgust filling her eyes. Sebastian just laughed and sat down in the waiting room. I followed my mother into the room, finding my dad still unconscious, but looking so peaceful. My eyes filled with tears, "Daddy."

My mother grabbed my hand, rubbing it. "Daddy is going to be fine. The doctors suspect he will wake up very soon." She sat in the chair next to the bed and gestured for me to sit on the bed. "Doc thinks if you talk to him, he understands and hears you. Makes it coming back a lot easier."

With a shaking hand, I reached for my father's fingers. He was warm, which made me flinch, I guess I expected him to be cold, like a dead body. I grabbed his hand, tight, and sighed, tears falling from my eyes. "Hi daddy, it's me (y/n). I am home for visit from California. So much has changed since high school. Uh," I shook my head, grasping at things to talk about. "Uh, you remember Chris? Yeah, well he and I are no longer together. I know you loved him but this was for the best, I promise. I moved to New York with Penn after the breakup and I met someone very special to me. His name is Sebastian. He is loving, caring, giving, selfless. He reminds me a lot of you daddy." I started sobbing after talking about Sebastian with my father. I pictured my child, going to my father's grave every year, kissing the stone, whispering happy birthdays' or Merry Christmas. "Daddy, I need you to wake up, please. The doctor says you're going to soon, but I can't help but be doubtful. I know you always raised us to be faithful and trust God but I'm scared. Daddy, I need you to come back to me. Be a daddy to me and a grandfather to my baby." I gasped for air between words and tears. "Daddy, I'm pregnant and want you to be here for me, with me. Please."

I caught my mother's eyes, filled to the brim with tears, she smiled shakily. "Sweetheart, your dad is going to be just fine. Now, if you don't mind, I would like some alone time with him, just a few minutes. Ask Sebastian if he would like a drink or food, on me." She handed me a $20 bill. I smiled at her, kissing her cheek and then my father's and walked out of the room.

Sebastian was sitting, legs crossed, reading a carpentry magazine. "Plan on building something?"

I scared him because he jumped, he grabbed his heart. "Shit, you scared me." He laughed and stood, hugging me. "How's everything?"

I sat beside him, head on his shoulder. "Mom wanted some alone time with him so she kicked me out and offered to buy some drinks or whatever." I flashed him the bill. "I talked to him."

He nodded, thoughtfully. "What did you say?"

I shrugged, "I told him about mine and Chris break up, how I moved to New York and met you. How good of a person you are and how important you are to me." He kissed my hair. "Then, I pictured our baby, going to his gravestone every year, telling him about birthday's or Christmas's." I looked and found Sebastian wiping a tear from his blue eyes. "I told him needs to wake up, to be a dad to me and a grandfather to our baby." I wiped loose tears from my eyes.

Sebastian rubbed my back, tears filling his eyes. "I don't speak to my dad, but that's on his part. He didn't and doesn't want anything to do with me but if given the choice, I would fly to where he is right now, and tell him that I wish we could've had a relationship, that I always wanted him at my little league games or when I had a crush on a girl in the second grade."

I kissed his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It sucks and I was angry about it for so long, but then I just learned to love my step-dad. He is my father, he is the one who raised me, even though we don't share blood, he's my dad."

I nodded, sighing. "Coffee?"

We were in the waiting room, drinking crappy coffee and talking about baby names when my mother came running out of the room, joy filling her face. "(y/n)! He's awake!"

I stood to my feet, running to the room. I got one look at my dad, wide awake and sitting up, eating jello. "Daddy."

He smiled at me, loving. "Baby girl, welcome back home!"

I ran to him, hugging him tightly. "I'm so happy you're awake!"

He winked at me, "I had to come back after that incredible speech you gave."

I gasped, "you actually heard that?"

He winked again, swallowing a mouthful of red jello. "Every word, sweetie." He looked around the room, confused. "Where's Penn?"

I shrugged, "I have no idea. We dropped him off here before going to mom's and haven't seen him since."

He nodded, "And where is this Sebastian fellow?"

My eyes grew large. "Out ... in the waiting room."

He clucked his tongue, "Tell him to get his butt in here, getting my daughter pregnant. I need to approve before you have this baby." He winked again.

I peeked around the corner, catching Sebastian's eye. He stood and walked briskly to the room. "What?"

I smiled, "Dad wants to meet you."

He breathed out and nodded. He walked into the room, "Sir. Glad to see you're awake."

My dad eyed him up, squinting. "Good lord, you're like a Greek God."

Sebastian's face went deep red. "Uh, thank you?"

Dad nodded, "You're welcome, son. It's a compliment. Lord Almighty, you are one handsome young man. How old are you? Like 27?"

He nodded, looking at me. "Uh, 29 sir."

Dad's eyes widened, "29?. Well, that's two years younger than that other fellow my daughter was dating, Chris was it?" He nodded. "Okay, well, tell me about yourself."

Sebastian looked around and rubbed his palms on his jeans. "Uh, okay. I'm 29, I was born in Romania, moved to Austria when I was 8 and then to New York when I was 12. I am currently in school, the sixth year studying space basically, want to work at NASA someday."

My father nodded, lip puckered, "Good choice. What are your intentions for my little girl?"

His eyes widened, "Sir, I plan on having this baby with her and eventually marrying her. With your blessing of course."

Dad nodded, "There's the baby subject I wanted to get to."

I sucked in a breath and bit my lower lip, "Daddy, list-."

"No, you listen to me. I know in the back of your mind I have already said you're too young, should've waited until marriage speech so I won't repeat myself." We nodded. "Good, so how long have y'all known each other?"

I raised one shoulder, "two months, give or take a few days."

"Oh my good God, two damn months?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, here's the deal. Sebastian you are not allowed to leave my daughter with this baby, by herself and y'all ain't allowed to get married for another year. If you can survive one more year with each other, I will personally pay for every cent of the wedding." He shot his hands forward, "Deal?"

We both nodded, looking at each other. "Deal."

#someday darling #part thirty #sebastian stan #chris evans #sebastian stan x reader #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan fandom #chris evans fanfiction #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #marvel #marvel au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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kmjxngins · 6 years

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same but different | jongin

q: what about an jongin scenario where you both are getting married? ;) i've been feeling emotional bc of songsong couple wedding

a: !! i’m so happy for song joongki and song hyekyo like i rly loved their chemistry in dots huhu i’m sorry this is so late tho and i hope you like!!

you’re definitely feeling the jitters today. it had been a few months since jongin had proposed to you, but you remember it like it happened just yesterday.

the sun had been setting, having finished dinner early to walk by the beach watching the orange hues turn darker and darker, watching the stars come to life. the sunset was beautiful, more beautiful than other days. you weren’t sure whether it was because jongin was there, or that he picked a day with a more magnificent-looking sunset to bring you to the beach. which it was, you didn’t know but all you knew was that you loved every single minute you spent with him, so sunset or not, it didn’t matter. his move to get down on one knee surprised you though. you hadn’t thought much about the dinner by the beach, nor the walk because you knew jongin was the type to bring you out to these places on a whim (clearly this time, it wasn’t on a whim). he had evidently thought about doing this for a long time because he looked up at you, and while you could see a slight nervousness in his eyes, he looked more confident than ever.

you loved the way he looked at you, eyes brown, wide and adoring. and you’re pretty sure you looked at him with the same eyes, wondering how you managed to get a guy like jongin. teary eyed, you said yes almost immediately, laughing and dropping to a squat right in front of him. holding your arm with one hand to make sure you didn’t fall from your squat, he slipped the ring onto your fourth finger, smiling directly at you, then proceeded to push you off balance, making you tilt sideways and onto the sand. you weren’t phased though, because it had been one too many times that jongin had done a surprise attack on you, his childish side shining through. so mid-fall, you tugged hard on his arm, making him fall right beside you.

that’s what you like about kim jongin the most. that your relationship with him never really changes when titles do - from best friend to boyfriend, from boyfriend to fiance, from fiance to...

husband.

that’s what’s happening today and you snap out of your little trance, looking down at the white wedding dress you’re wearing. it feels heavy, but light at the same time. heavy physically, because of the train of cloth behind you as well as on top of your head. but light, because you can’t believe that it’s happening today. while you know that this is just a title change, just a small stepping stone to make things more official than they already are, you can’t help but feel a little nauseous.

but the queasiness of things fade away as you step out of the room and into the hall, your father right beside you, holding on to you tight. while your parents and close friends had managed to lessen your worry by their comforting words, when your eyes meet jongin’s, your anxious heart calms. it’s nothing new, you tell yourself, as you stare into a pair of warm, brown familiar eyes. he’s standing at the altar with a brilliant smile on his face, making it seem like he’s lighting up the room with just his smile alone and it makes you fall in love with him even more than before. you don’t know how it’s possible to love him even more than you already do, but every day you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper, and you don’t want to get out anytime soon.

so you walk down the aisle, not breaking your gaze with jongin except to step down the stairs and the closer you get, the happier you are, smile getting impossibly wider. your emotions are kind of a mess, because you start to tear slightly, not knowing what else to really do because you’re just so, so happy that you get to spend the rest of your life with a man who loves you just as much as you do, him.

jongin takes your hand when you get close enough and leads you up the steps to the altar where you exchange vows, holding each others hands in between each other and gazing earnestly, lovingly at each other. then he pulls you in for a kiss and it’s like the first kiss you had back when he had asked you to be his years ago. it’s soft, tender and communicative. he kisses you like he treasures you so, so much, like you’re something he doesn’t want to break. it’s familiar and you’re filled with so much love for him it’s unbelievable. it’s official when he slips another ring on your finger.

the night after the wedding, the party and the afterparty, you’re laying on his chest back at his house, on the bed you’ll soon be exchanging for a bigger one when you both move into your new house together. you hear his heart beating in his chest, melodic and slow, his chest rising up and down with each breath he takes. you’re both silent, taking in the happenings of the entire day and just letting things sink in. it’s a comfortable silence and you let his warm embrace and heartbeat lull you to sleep.

while you know that things are physically going to change, nothing would change the love that you and jongin share. and you know that together, you’d be able to face anything as long as he’s right beside you.

#jongin #kim jongin #kai #exo #jongin scenario #kai scenario #kai imagine #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo reactions #exo imagine #kpop

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