Tumgik
#lol I almost started going to my friend’s house which is A LOT further than the post office
dovelydraws · 9 months
Note
If you don't mind me asking,
What's art styles ended up influencing .. Well your art style?
Oh, this is a fun question, thank you for asking!
Hmm, I think it's a little hard to say since I've been drawing since I was basically a toddler, lol. Every little thing I've ever enjoyed has had some sort of influence. I'll try to go through the timeline though.
When I was a little kid, I had a special interest in zoology (still do! but it's not as obvious as it was back then.) I used to wake up first in the house specifically so I could turn on the tv to the animal planet channel and just watch documentaries all morning, and I carried a giant animal kingdom encyclopedia with me to school every day to just flip to random pages and read whatever popped up. During this time of my life, I pretty much exclusively drew animals- particularly elephants, canines, and horses. I had no interest in people.
I had no real interest in stylization at this point- obviously as a little kid I was never able to achieve perfect anatomy or anything like that, but I was more interested in making my animals look real than cartoonish- which meant I was never really influenced by the disney movies I was watching, since they stylized their animals so heavily.
I remember the dreamworks movie Spirit held my attention for a very long time, and I think it may particularly have been that way because the horses looked and acted more real than they did in disney movies. They were still stylized of course, it was a cartoon after all, but it wasn't to any extremes. I still find myself wanting to mimic that in my animals now; cartoon, but not cartoon-y.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I think these two gifs help illustrate my point lol.
After this exclusive animal obsession (followed by dinosaurs, and then dragons) I got really into Sonic the Hedgehog around age 11. Drew sonic characters, and made my own OCs for it, for basically the entirety of middle school. I've pointed out in the past that it seems the way I draw hands was heavily influenced by this phase
Tumblr media
Very round, almost rubbery, where the ends of the fingers tend to flare out a little bigger than they are at the knuckles.
Then after sonic, I got into my first anime, Soul Eater, and this is really where I first started venturing into drawing people and more realistic human anatomy.
Tumblr media
Interestingly, this artstyle seemed to also do the Sonic Hands thing, lol
After this I had a big anime phase, as well as just a general "I want to study actual human anatomy" phase during early high school. I was following a lot of skeletal/muscular system tutorials during this time.
Following that I started getting back into american media, in particular I remember invader zim, steven universe, and tmnt 2k12. I'm not sure I can really tell myself where the steven u artstyle is present in my own, but I've had people tell me they can tell I was into it at some point after saying so.
Tumblr media
Then there was the Rubberhose Boom of 2017, with the release of Cuphead and BATIM very close together; I had a big hyperfixation on that artstyle specifically at that time, and I feel like I may owe some of the loose-ness in my artstyle to that.
Tumblr media
Then, I suppose, we come to Rise of the TMNT. That show ended up being a major inspiration to me, and I think I owe a LOT of recent artistic growth to it. Rise pushed me out of my comfort zone big time. I always liked doing dynamic poses, but rise encouraged me to push things further, and I started drawing more backgrounds and making bolder color choices because of it as well.
Tumblr media
I think my artstyle became just a bit more angular after drawing so much fanart as well.
And I suppose that's where I'm now at presently! Aside from media, I also can't say I'd be where I am artistically today without the influence and support of my many friends. :) I owe a lot of things about my artstyle, particularly specific things like my lineart, to compliments my friends paid me which made me pay more attention to the things I was doing accidentally that they happened to like, then making it purposeful and more refined as a result.
13 notes · View notes
daltoneering · 2 years
Text
Fire and water imagery in episode 11
Mostly water thoughts today!
The biggest volume-wise instance of water in this episode is surrounding Vegas’ safe house—although this screencap doesn’t show it, there’s water on both sides of the house. This is an interesting contrast with the minor family’s usual base, which has no water, especially as opposed to the main family house, which has lots. The other parallel I saw here was with the boat that Kinn kidnaps Porsche onto in episode 1.
Tumblr media
Another Porsche pool scene! And so nicely paralleled/contrasted with the Vegas pool scene in episode 9—literally even the angle here is the same when Porsche gets out to sit on the side of the pool. It’s daytime; he’s been swimming, rather than reflecting at the bottom of the pool; it’s Porsche that starts the conversation, despite Chay surprising him there. I mentioned in my thoughts on the ep 9 scene that we almost only see their profiles; while the fact that there is a swimming pool in the way makes it hard to film them face-on, there are way fewer profile angles/shots from behind here, and certainly more from the front. In ep 9, Vegas has come to “apologise” to Porsche (see: further manipulate him into trusting him); here Chay is coming with his heart open and hurting and needing Porsche’s reassurance in return. Porsche is so much more open and honest here than with Vegas, where he was closed off and cautious. It’s just a really lovely contrast!
There’s also something about how still the water is in ep 9 (like, Apo even did his incredibly obscene slinky-slide into the pool in the BTS—to stop the water from rippling too much?), and here it’s all full of ripples and movement. I’ve not really thought of it in this way before but looking back I wonder if it’s not too much to say that there is something threatening about still water (main mafia family pool, The Pool lurking when KP have unsaid things between them, the water all around the minor family safehouse), and something less so about water with movement? (The river by which KP have their first kiss, the stream in the woods, the water feature in ep 8.) Maybe I am just reading too much into it though!
Tumblr media
Ohoho, some strong parallels here to that episode 1 boat scene. You think you can get away? The water is trapping Pete here with Vegas. The only thing is, while Porsche was ready and able to jump into it to get out of there, Pete isn’t given the chance—unlike Kinn pursuing Porsche (mostly) because of his father’s directives, Vegas has been actively told by his father to get rid of Pete, and is going directly against him to keep him here. There have been so many excellent thoughts written already on what Pete means to/for Vegas, but the most important one here is that he’s not going to let him get away. Yet? (Boy, I hope that it’s a yet. An ep 6 ending parallel would simply end me. But I am getting off track!)
Tumblr media
Porsche is smoking again in the bar scene! (Cue me panic-messaging my meta thoughts friends about what this means for my smoking theories, lol.) He’s clearly relaxed and enjoying himself, and bringing Kinn into this place of comfort for him and into his family (Yok)—so I guess if he’s enjoying that comfort, why wouldn’t he be smoking. Maybe my theories are intact. It’s cosy and familiar and his fiery spark comes easily in that combination of home + Kinn’s presence.
Tumblr media
(Thoughts on mirrors and reflections in this episode here / fire and water imagery gdoc that has thoughts for all aired episodes here / series tag)
67 notes · View notes
magpiefngrl · 4 months
Note
Hiii! I loved reading your WIP titles. I am really curious about the 'All the ships' Drarry but would love to hear about one of your OF pieces if you're happy to share? I'm always a sucker for a gothic romance so please tell me about the [Memory] WIP <3
Hello lovely! Thanks for the ask!
[All the ships] actually has a title which I'd clean forgotten LOL. It's Thunder and Lightning and I only remembered because I went to dig for an excerpt. We start with Harry and Ginny on one hand and Draco and Astoria on the other, happily married and being friends, until a stormy night in the manor when Astoria and Ginny give in to their attraction and that leaves Harry, in deep denial of how attractive he finds Draco, to ...er deal with that. It's a PWP, because this is the only thing I can write in drarry now lol. I would've abandoned it, tbh, except I really like this one line and so I can't bring myself to relegate it to the WIP graveyard.
(I've put an excerpt further down)
I'd love to talk about the gothic romance too! I'd also forgotten I have a tentative title: Lord Ashworth's Possession. This exercise tells me a lot about how much I've put my writing on the back burner these past few months :(
See, I had the idea of turning my gothic drarry (The Unquiet Grave) into an original romance, but when I tried to adapt the existing text by filing off serial numbers, as it were, I realised how impossible it was. So many things relied on canon to be understood and would have to be explained and so many little moments would lose their significance.
But I was enamoured with the mood of the fic and would love to recreate it. I kept the gothic manor and the sinister vibe, but changed the characters, the situation, the plot etc. Some elements have sneaked through, the ghost of the aunt, for instance.
Calling it 'memory' was because my protagonist and the POV of the story is returning to a place he grew up and hasn't visited for 20 years. So besides him being there for plot reasons, he also returns to a place that holds a lot of emotional memories for him. The book that keeps coming back to my mind when I think of this story is The Lover by Marguerite Duras, which is neither gothic nor a romance, but somehow feels related to this piece.
I wrote a short story exploring the world and the secondary characters and posted it on AO3: The new valet. Certain elements about the house are likely to change but it was an interesting exercise in getting a feel for the story.
ask me about my WIPs
Excerpts below the cut:
All the ships aka Thunder and Lightning:
‘Is this something you do a lot?’ Malfoy shrugged as he leaned on a counter opposite Harry. ‘Not together, no. We have an open relationship. I love her more than I could ever love anyone, but we’re both more gay than bi. We’ve had dalliances in the past and they’ve been discreet.’ This was news to Harry. The gay thing, the dalliances. His mind couldn’t stop thinking of the men Malfoy had touched. The men he’d fucked. ‘Is this making you uncomfortable?’ Malfoy asked. ‘Not really. I want Ginny to be happy.’ Malfoy chuckled. ‘I meant, this.’ He gestured between them. ‘Not really.’ Harry shot back. ‘Is that why your fists are clenched? Because you’re perfectly comfortable?’ Harry flexed his fingers and let out a long breath. The rain started. It beat up the windows, rivers pouring down the glass. It was almost like they were in an aquarium, surrounded by water, just him and Malfoy and his long, manicured fingers. Malfoy shrugged. He wore a shirt open at the collar, a triangle of neck and collarbone visible, pale against the ice blue fabric. Harry’s fingers flexed some more. ‘Nothing needs to happen, Harry.’ Harry wondered if Malfoy still thought of him in his surname like Harry did. ‘Let’s go have a drink, I’m worried you’ll have an aneurysm.’
[memory] gothic romance:
On this freezing November morning, rain lashed at the windows, making the damp air damper. A fire in the grate in Philip’s office burned valiantly, doing its best to dispel the gloom. He’d been sorting through reports of suspected Wraith activity—often these things would take down whole families before someone realised what they were dealing with—when his door opened, and Maud popped her head in. “Got an appointment in ten minutes that sounds intriguing. I thought you might want to sit in. Name’s Harlow.” Philip’s hands stilled. “There are many Harlows,” he said carefully. But his pulse was beating fast, and he knew; he already knew. Maud’s expression confirmed it before her words. “He’s Lord Ashworth’s younger brother. Lancewood Abbey. That’s where you grew up, isn’t it?” Philip nodded. Maud slipped inside and sat on the chair. “Do you remember him? The younger brother?” “He’s a decade younger. He was barely two when we—” were forced to leave “—when we left the estate.” “Do you remember the current Lord Ashworth? John Augustus—God, what names—Harlow?” “Jack.” Philip remembered a nine-year-old running after him in the grass, escaping his governess in order to create as much mischief as he could manage. “They call him Jack. He was in the papers a lot.” Jack Harlow, when his father lived, and he was still the heir. Rumours of scandals and a licentious lifestyle that put Oscar Wilde to shame. Any hint of debauchery and Jack was somehow involved—until his father died in that fire, Jack inherited the title, and promptly let go of most of his staff, locked his gates and never left the Abbey.
6 notes · View notes
thebookworm0001 · 2 years
Text
fic author self rec
Thank you for the tag, @rosella-writes !!!!
When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.
So I have about a million wips and small things that I have put on the inter-webs, but only a handful of actually finished, published fics which makes this almost more of a 'here's my entire catalogue' post but I sure aint complaining about that lol
without further ado:
Last Chance
Rating: E Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas Summary: After years of work fighting against Fen'harel and his agents, the final battle between former Inquisitor Lavellan and the man she loves is only one night away. Links: Tumblr | AO3 Length: 6k, 1 chapter, complete; part of the 'post-trespasser' collection This was the first ever smut fic I wrote and I am wildly proud of it. Do you want to be in pain? Well, this is the angst-filled smut fic for you. I have it on good authority that this will make you cry. This is also meant to be near the very end of a long-fic that I have started but have yet to post anything finished for, so there's a lot of build-up to this that does not yet exist but you can imagine as being very angsty.
2. Stolen Moments
Rating: G Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas Summary: Ellana and Solas steal a moment alone. Alt. solavellan did not get a repeatable kiss scene and I’m fixing that. Links: Tumblr | AO3 Length: 1.2k, 2 chapters, complete; part of the 'in-between' collection This is just a sweet solavellan moment. No pain here! It also comes with some incredible, amazing, absolutely stunning artwork courtesy of @rosenrotxiii which you can see in the second chapter on ao3 or linked in the tumblr post
3. In the Morning
Rating: G Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas Summary: When Solas wakes, it is to the sound of her breath. Alt. pov of the end of Last Chance. Links: Tumblr | AO3 Length: 670, 1 chapter, complete; part of the 'post-trespasser' collection Did you want to have your heart wrecked just a bit more? Was Last Chance simply not painful enough for you? Congratulations I wrote the end of that one from Solas' POV so you could relish in the solavellan hell just a little longer.
4. Laundry Day
Rating: E Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Solas Summary: After the Dread Wolf’s defeat at the hands of the former Inquisitor, his punishment is far more lenient than many were anticipating. House arrest, under the supervision of the Herald of Andraste herself. As Ellana and Solas settle into their new lives, neither has forgotten the events just before their final confrontation, and, caught in close quarters, old feelings begin to resurface. Follow-up to Last Chance Links: Tumblr | AO3 Length: 4.4k, 1 chapter, complete; part of the 'post-trespasser' collection So, this is also meant to be part of a long-fic that I have yet to write. In the ending where solas and ellana both survive his attempt to reshape the world and her killing him to stop that from happening, Solas's punishment is house arrest under the watchful eye of the very woman who defeated him. There is much tension. This is a sweet smut fic - need to soothe your soul after Last Chance but still want smut? This is your thing.
5. Modeling Expectations
Rating: E Pairing: Ellana Lavellan x Eludysia Lavellan Summary: Since taking a body, Ellana has come to rely on Eludysia to help her navigate the waking world and its new experiences, but one inquiry leads to a more hands-on demonstration than she expected. Ancient Elvhenan AU. Links: Tumblr | AO3 Length: 3k, 1 chapter, complete My dear friend @roseategales and I share many an au where our (unrelated!) Lavellans fall in love with each other and with Solas. This particular throuple au is an elvhenan au in which Ellana is a recently embodied spirit of Curiosity. In this fic, she's a bit curious about sex and 'Dysia is very happy to give her some instruction.
Firstly, apologies if I'm not the first to tag you, but I would like to tag: @roseategales (go check out her throuple smut fic if she doesn't rec it herself) @bdafic @redinkofshame @noire-pandora @shift-shaping
20 notes · View notes
Text
REFLECTIONS Answer the following questions:
What is the single best thing that happened in the past year?
2015:  The beginning of the fall semester when I grew a lot more confidence
2016: Studied abroad
2017: Graduated
2018: Moved into the B Flat
2019: Got a boyfriend
2020: Got a car
2021: Got my vaccine
2022: Went to the premiere of Good Night Oppy which I worked on
2. What is the most challenging thing that happened to you in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22?
2015: Getting over Marble maybe
2016: Getting over Hawaii
2017: Making my 4500 film
2018: The music videos I did
2019: Deciding whether to date my now boyfriend
2020: The entire pandemic
2021: Still the fucking pandemic
2022: Trying to figure out my future with my boyfriend
3. What thing did you learn the most from this year?
2015: Hawaii and Marble
2016: My film class
2017: Also my film class
2018: My film jobs and internships
2019: Starting a relationship
2020: I guess the pandemic
2021: The Nasa footage (or google)
2022: My job
4. What is the kindest thing you did this year?
2015:  I don’t think I’m the one to ask, you’d have to ask people who perceived kindness
2016: Same
2017: Same
2018: Same
2019: Same
2020: Wore a mask
2021: Got a vaccine (though it was mutually beneficial)
2022: Helped my parents with stuff? Helped my friends move?
5. Did you lose any close family member this year?
2015: Nope
2016: No
2017: No
2018: My great aunt died
2019: No close ones, but my grandma’s dementia is getting so bad she doesn’t remember who I am
2020: No
2021: No but my grandma is pretty far gone
2022: No
6. Pick three words to describe 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22.
2015: A learning experience
2016: Single, senior, band
2017: Senior to graduate
2018: Almost an adult
2019: Another year older
2020: Covid, long, stagnant
2021: Covid, jobs, vaccine
2022: Friends, film, trips
7. What did you do in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22 that you never did before?
2015: Got further than I ever had in my love life
2016: Studied abroad
2017: Moved into a house with roommates
2018: Moved in with male roommates, did an internship
2019: Got a boyfriend
2020: Bought a car
2021: Got a job in my field
2022: Went to a premiere of a movie I worked on
8. Did you keep last year’s resolutions? What were they?
2015: Here we go. Put one happy moment from each day into a jar: YES. Go to the gym regularly: Doing better but still could use improvement. Get a summer job: Yes. Make an effort to eat breakfast: Haha nope. Make an effort to look pretty: About the same as last year. Talk to people more and appear more confident: Yes. Find things to be excited about: Not as much as I want. Find a boyfriend: NOPE. Write more: Not really. Read more: Maybe a little. Have adventures: Some, but not as much as I would like. Initiate things: Yes. Use “I” more: Yes. Be less mean to myself: Yes. Overthink less: No, still working on that. Be proud of myself for trying my best but accept not being perfect: I guess. Take responsibility: More. Be positive and enthusiastic: Still working on it. Carpe diem: Not enough.
2016: I can’t remember lol
2017: I can’t remember what I wrote. Here’s what I’ll do: write my 2018 resolutions so that when I reblog this next year I will know:
2018: Be more adventurous: Maybe? Overthink and strategize less: HA not really. Get a film job: Yes. Eat more vegetables: Maybe a little but still not enough. Go to the gym, like, ever: Yes. Read more: Kinda. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet.
2019: Get a boyfriend: Finally did! Be more spontaneous and adventurous: Kinda? Sometimes? Lose weight and eat better: Nope. Read more books: Nope. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet. Learn how to work hard: Not really. Spend more time with my friends: Kinda. Love myself, and be someone I love: Not really. Carpe diem: Sometimes. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Earn more money than I spend: Nope. Travel: Yes. Discover new music: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes. Believe in myself: Not really. Learn to be a leader: Nope. Watch more movies: Some. Think about other people: Tried to. Learn how to make mistakes: Kinda.
2020: Get a new job: No. Lose weight and fit into my dresses again: Noope, the opposite. Read more books: A couple. Spend more time with friends: Haha, nope, although I did zoom with them some. Go on dates: Not really. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes, I tried dice making. Take risks even if they cost money: Yes, again the dice making. Make more money than I spend: Actually yes with the stimulus. Make jewelry: Some, and opened and etsy page. Get back to people in a timely manner: So-so. Be more punctual: Nope. Finish my harry potter spellbook and keep up with my character book: Nope. Learn new things: Not enough. Be the kind of person I wish I could be: No. Be more open to ideas: No. Post more pictures online: No. Don’t be such a control freak: Not even a little bit. Worry less about what people think: Kinda. Laugh more: No.
2021: Get an interesting job: Yes. Get my own apartment: No but I moved in with my boyfriend. Get a covid vaccine: Yes, 3 of them. Lose weight: Lol no. Keep doing my sticky notes and moment calendar: Yes. Be less hard on myself: Kinda. Survive: The year’s not over but yes so far.
2022: Finish moving in: Yes, after a scare with a fire in my neighborhood that prompted me to finally get all my stuff together. Get back to normal: Covid wise, yes, for the most part. Lose weight: Not really. Do more crafts: I think so. Read more books: A couple but not as many as I wanted to. Do well at my job: Yes. Hang out with my friends more: Yes. DM a short campaign: No. Keep doing my sticky notes and journal: Yes.
2023 resolutions: Keep doing my sticky notes and journal. Actually lose weight. Stick to my dice workout rewards program. Finally finish my Harry Potter spellbook. Be on time for work. Cut out the time I waste getting ready for bed. Do more creative projects. Read more books. Make the Detroit: Become Human jacket. Spend time with my friends. DM a one-shot. Make friends at work. Clean the apartment. Save a decent amount of money. 
9. Did you travel to any interesting places in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22?
2015: Went to Las Vegas for my birthday and California with the band and Kentucky to see Paul McCartney.
2016: Went to Italy, went on band trips to California and Texas
2017: Went to London with my mom, went to New Orleans for my cousin’s wedding and hooked up with my 6th grade crush, went to Wyoming for the solar eclipse
2018: Went to Las Vegas for a film shoot
2019: Went to Israel
2020: Went to Harry Potter World in Orlando with my boyfriend
2021: Nothing too exciting but went to Colorado Springs for thanksgiving
2022: Made up for some lost time with trips to St. Louis, Chicago, San Francisco, and New York
10. What would you like to have in 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 that you lacked in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22?
2015: A BOYFRIEND HAHAHA
2016: Still a boyfriend lmao fml
2017: Still a boyfriend but one that I feel satisfied with. I’m not sure if I’m there with Guacamole. Also he’s not even my boyfriend yet
2018: Still a boyfriend lmao
2019: An interesting job (finally got the boyfriend!)
2020: A job, an apartment, and a vaccine
2021: A fucking break from this damn pandemic
2022: Clarity
11. Do you even believe in new year’s resolutions? Why or why not?
2015: I think they are a good idea, for reflection as much as goals.
2016: Maybe. Idk
2017: Yeah it’s a good idea
2018: It’s always good to try to better yourself and it gives you motivation to do it
2019: It’s a good idea for goals
2020: It’s good to make goals and remind yourself what to work on
2021: Yeah it’s a good idea
2022: It’s good to make goals
12. Do you believe that 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22 had an reoccurring theme for you? If so, which theme and why?
2015: No more than any other year really
2016: More like my entire life has a recurring theme of being single af
2017: Not really
2018: Boys I like having girlfriends
2019: Macy’s
2020: Covid
2021: Still covid
2022: Making up for lost time in the pandemic
13. Do you feel like 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22 went by too fast?
2015: No
2016: It went a little fast, especially now that I’m about to graduate
2017: Not really
2018: Not really, but maybe my youth went too fast
2019: It went by too fast for how much I accomplished
2020: It went by way too slow
2021: No but my youth is going by too fast
2022: I think it went a normal speed but yes my youth is going by too fast
14. Did you fall in love with any new artists during the year 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22? List them.
2015: I fell back in love with Taylor Swift
2016: Collabro
2017: Anastasia the Musical cast, and Hamilton is growing on me
2018: A bunch of musicals
2019: My musicals playlist on spotify has Rent, Dear Evan Hansen, Legally Blonde, Galavant, Hamilton, A Star Is Born, Frozen 2
2020: Fell more in love with taylor Swift, and Come From Away
2021: Olivia Rodrigo
2022: Jake Wesley Rogers
15. Brag about two of your accomplishments in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22.
2015: I made a couple cool music videos, and I lost some weight after increasing my gym attendance.
2016: I made a short film, Pancakes, with a full crew. I got straight A’s in the spring.
2017: I graduated and I made another short film
2018: I worked on two film shoots and I got promoted at work
2019: I stayed in touch with friends I made on a film shoot, and I got a boyfriend
2020: Bought a car and was the costume designer for a TV pilot
2021: Got a temporary job on a documentary, got a full-time job in my field
2022: Had a movie I worked on premiere, got a friend group
16. What was your favorite movie that came out this year?
2015: The Martian
2016: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
2017: Coco
2018: A Star Is Born
2019: Rocketman
2020: None of them were really memorable
2021: Again there were none that memorable
2022: Good Night Oppy
17. Fill in the blank: In 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 I will ____________.
2015: Get the confidence back that I had in the fall
2016: Graduate college
2017: Start looking for film jobs
2018: Find myself
2019: Find a new job
2020: Survive, please
2021: Rebuild
2022: Lose weight, finally finish the Harry Potter Spellbook
18. If you could fly anywhere in the world in 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23, where would you go?
2015: Italy, and I plan to!
2016: London, and I plan to
2017: Scotland or Ireland, and I don’t have any plans to
2018: Maybe that Israel birthright thing
2019: Maybe Ireland or Amsterdam
2020: Wherever has the least amount of covid. Of course that probably means they wouldn’t let me in
2021: An alternate dimension that doesn’t have covid
2022: Maybe Amsterdam, we had planned loosely on that before covid
19. What was your biggest regret of 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22?
2015: Worrying about the future when I had something good rather than just enjoying it
2016: Not trying enough in making friends and making the most out of it
2017: Maybe not getting quite enough out of college
2018: Forgetting or never quite learning how to work hard. That and not asking a cute guy out in time
2019: Not buying that moonstone necklace
2020: Gaining weight
2021: Maybe being mean to my dad
2022: Being unfair to my boyfriend
20. Do you think you’ll be having a better 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 than 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22?
2015: I hope so
2016: I hope so
2017: I hope so
2018: I hope so and I think so
2019: I sure hope so
2020: I fucking hope so
2021: God I fucking hope so
2022: I hope so but I don’t want to get my hopes up too hard
21. Did you make any new friends this year? Lose any friends?
2015: I got closer with some friends :)
2016: I made some new band and film friends. One of my friends from freshman year died.
2017: I almost lost a friend but now we seem to be friends again. I also made some new ones
2018: I made some new ones, and kinda stopped being friends with some of my old roommates
2019: I think I got closer to some friends
2020: I met a few online playing among us, and I probably lost my roommates
2021: I met a couple people from the film shoots and DnD
2022: I got closer to some friends
22. What was the biggest adventure of the last year?
2015: Hawaii, I think
2016: Studying abroad
2017: Moving out and starting to adult
2018: The film shoots
2019: Dating my boyfriend
2020: Harry Potter World
2021: Venturing back into the world
2022: Gradually getting back to normal
23. Did you get cake on your birthday? Presents? What you wanted?
2015: Yeah I went to Vegas which was cool! Got cake and alcohol and presents
2016: I did not get cake but I got IHOP. I got presents, and the football team won the game that day sending us to the PAC 12 Championship
2017: I got pancakes, presents, and maybe I’m starting to get what I wanted?
2018: I got chocolate mousse and presents and I didn’t even know what I wanted
2019: I got cake and presents including one thing I wanted
2020: I got bundt cake and a few things from my wish list
2021: I got fondue and shopping and presents
2022: I got chocolate fondue and presents
24. How much did you change this year? What’s different about you?
2015: Not too much has changed but I think I’m prettier, more confident, braver, and value bravery more.
2016: I’m lazier, gained back the weight that I lost last year, and lost some of the confidence from last year. Wow…
2017: I’m not a student anymore
2018: I maybe lost some of my hope in my love life and felt more set in my ways
2019: I don’t have as much FOMO but I’m also getting more frustrated with my life
2020: Gained weight, got more anxiety
2021: Maybe became more forgiving of myself, started running out of fucks to give, but also still worried about running out of time
2022: Got more relaxed about covid, hung out with friends more
CONFESSIONS
Bold the statements that are true (2015) and cross out (2016) and italicize (2017) and I’m running out of formats so CAPS (2018) and *star (2019) and ~tilde (2020) and =equals (2021) and +(2022)
In the year 2015/2016/2017/2018/2019/2020/2021/2022 I confess that I….
KISSED SOMEONE I HAVE NEVER KISSED BEFORE. +=~*DID SOMETHING I REGRET. *Painted a picture. +*Dyed my hair. Got a new haircut I thought I’d never get before. Wrote a poem. Graduated from High School. Graduated from College. Applied for Graduate School. +RAN A MILE. Ate much healthier. Ended toxic friendships. +=~*GAINED A NEW FRIEND. Gained a new best friend. *Visited a foreign country. =~*LIED. +=~*HAD A FIGHT WITH MY PARENTS. +*HAD A SECRET/KEPT A SECRET. Realized my homosexuality. =~REALIZED MY BISEXUALITY. (OR AT LEAST QUESTIONED IT) Realized my pansexuality. Realized my asexuality. =~*Broke a promise. *Slept under the stars. =~*STAYED UP TILL SUNRISE. ~*PUSHED SOMEONE AWAY. ~*Got in a fight. SLEPT WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER. +~*ATTENDED A PARTY. Got dumped. Got a new piercing/tattoo. Learned that I wasn’t cis gender. Drank underage/used illegal substances. +*ATTENDED A CONCERT. +*ATTENDED A MUSICAL. +=~*TRAVELED TO ANOTHER CITY. *Broke someone’s heart. *Hiding something from someone. +=~*MADE SOMEONE’S DAY. Cheated on a test/homework. Physically cheated on my significant other. +=~*Emotionally cheated on my significant other. ~Quit a job. =GOT A NEW JOB. Learned to hate someone I thought I never would. Learned to be more patient. Saw the supermoon. +~SAW THE METEOR SHOWER.
2 notes · View notes
that-cheer-up-anon · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
Went to the post office to send something for the first time today!
3 notes · View notes
heisenho · 3 years
Text
Gifts
Karl Heisenberg x Fem!Reader
Summary: Daniela has been giving you gifts, Heisenberg does not really take it too well.
Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI!
A/N: Hello, I am here with my first Heisenberg fic and I really love him sdfsdksf This is basically Porn without Plot, please don't kill me lol. I haven't written smut in a while, in fact I haven't written in a while, period. So this is a little rusty, but i like it, so... Heisenberg stans, come get yall juice!! Also, requests are open!! ~Beff
Tumblr media
You hummed softly to yourself as you walked towards the bathroom. Heisenberg had gone out to meet with his family, and you were all alone. Daniela, the only other person who knew about you being there, had given you some things to make your stay with Heisenberg a little... more bearable.
Cute clothes, some nice perfume (for some reason?), deodorant, small things she definitely did not find from their victims luggage. Every once in a while when Heisenberg brings horribly wrapped gifts back to you, you know Daniela has found yet another trinket to give you.
“Why does she wrap those?” Karl would ask.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
You would smile up at him, holding the gift close to your heart. Karl would roll his eyes, behind his sunglasses of course, and go take care of anything else that needed to be done. He didn’t leave you alone a lot, but when he did, you knew he was feeling upset. Jealousy mostly.
You wore nothing but a cute silk robe that Daniela had gifted you, and held a large fluffy towel against your stomach, another gift from the Dimitrescu (probably belonged to her mother). You were about to reach the bathroom when you heard footsteps through the house.
“Hey-”
You turned to find Karl, finding him standing in the doorway. His sunglasses were off and his eyes were dark, filled with something primal, something you had never seen before.
“Hi?”
Your voice brought his attention back to you. His eyes raked up your body before finally settling on yours once more.
“Daniela give you that?”
“Uh-” You swallowed hard, watching Heisenberg stalk towards you, slowly, “yes.”
He smirked, “I’m beginning to think this isn’t something so innocent.”
Furrowing your brows and cocking your head, you blinked at him. “Something more? What are you- I thought we-”
“I thought so too.”
“If you want, I can go take it off? I just wanted to take a bath, and- I don’t know, feel cute...”
“Take it off.”
His eyes were darker now, his body tense. You nodded meekly and turned back towards the room you had been staying in. You started to walk towards it, but were stopped.
“No, I mean right now.”
“Karl, I’m-” Your voice grew quiet, almost a whisper, “I’m not wearing clothes under this.”
“I know.”
It clicked. Fuck. He wanted to see you naked. The two of you had shared a couple of heated moments, but never anything further than tongue kissing and almost dry humping. Mother Miranda had a way of stopping anything from happening. She had the best timing it seemed. But, he had already dealt with Miranda, so now, you were all his.
“I don’t know,” you felt like you were going to combust.
Karl was on you now, looking down at you with a lust filled gaze. Almost animalistic. You breath caught and you stared up at him, frozen. His hand met the towel in your arms and he took it from you, softly, and examined it.
“Another gift, I presume? This looks like my sister’s towel...”
You nodded, throat too dry to speak. Karl threw the towel down and your head turned towards it, watching it soar through the sky. Within an instance, Karl’s hand was on your cheek, forcing you to look back at him.
“I promise, I do not like Daniela that way, and I can assure you she doesn’t like me either.”
His hand met the silk tie on the robe and his thumb ran over it, “Hm,” he was deep in thought now, “I don’t think most people give silk robes to friends.” His voice was low and soft, and he was hovering above your face.
Your eyes screwed shut and you blew out air through your closed lips, “She gave them to me so I could impress you.”
Your words came out fast and almost incoherent, but Heisenberg caught it. He definitely caught it. Your eyes slowly opened back up and you watched him smirk down at you.
“Oh?”
“Yes, can I please, please go wash off now?”
Tumblr media
You weren’t too sure how you got yourself into this particular predicament, but there you were, pushed against the wall, Karl’s thigh grinding against your cunt. Water was running in the background, but all you could focus on was warm hands under the silk robe that had somehow not been ripped from your body yet.
It had been mostly untied though, Karl’s hands beginning to roam across your stomach and towards your breasts. You let out a soft moan and Karl smiled against your neck.
“Fuck, so soft,” he whispered against your skin as his calloused hands found your breasts.
“The water,” Your attention was brought back to reality when you remembered you had bathwater running.
Karl groaned and moved slightly. His hands grabbed your wrists; he held them above your head. “What are you-” You tried to ask, but a piece of metal came flying towards you, and hit the wall; clamping against your wrists. You were stuck now.
Karl turned around and tended the tub, turning the water off. Your thighs rubbed together, the warmth that was once there now gone. You let out a whine and pouted at Heisenberg as he turned around.
“Let me go!” You pulled against the metal, “Why did you-”
“I don’t need you finishing a job that I’m more than capable of handling myself.”
You cocked your head at him and furrowed your brows. “What?”
“I don’t need you finger fucking yourself, you’ll be getting the real thing soon enough.”
You pouted and kept rubbing your thighs together, trying to get some sort of friction, but nothing was like the real thing. Your robe was hanging from your body now, the ribbon hanging off of your waist loosely.
Karl stopped the water and turned his attention back to you, “I was going to just fuck you right there, but I’d really rather the water not get cold.”
The metal fell from your wrists and your arms dropped to your sides. Karl motioned for you to remove your robe and furrowed your brows. “No. You aren’t even undressed.”
Karl’s face dropped, his eyes narrowing. You felt like you had made a grave mistake. Your mouth went dry and sheepishly took off the robe. As the robe hit the ground, so did your eyes. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your waist and kept your eyes low.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Karl stepped towards you, one of his hands reaching for you. “Come here,” He stepped towards you and gently grabbed your biceps, pulling you closer. “See, you look much better without that robe.”
With a nervous glint in your eyes, you looked up at him. You were beginning to feel a little more comfortable. You let your arms drop to your sides and you inhaled sharply. “I think it’s your turn now.” Your voice was soft.
“Of course,” he smiled down at you.
He motioned for you to go ahead and get in the tub and you did so, gladly. The water was warm and helped you untense immediately. You sat down and leaned back in the tub, your eyes closing. The back of your neck rested on the edge of the tub.
You could hear a belt and pants unzipping, but you stayed put where you were, frozen in the hot water. The water shifted after a couple minutes and Karl was on you in an instant. He placed his palm on the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. Your eyes fluttered open and you met his stare. Your eyes traveled down his body and stopped at his waist, that was all you could see from your -and his- position.
Karl’s hand moved from the back of your neck and to your chin, coaxing you to look back at him once more. His lips pressed to yours and his tongue instantly pushed into your mouth. You let out a moan and wrapped your arms around his neck.
Karl leaned back, into a sitting position, and easily brought you with him. The air was cold against your once warm skin, causing you to shiver. Karl’s hands roamed your torso and his mouth began to travel towards your jaw.
“So beautiful,” he mumbled, his hands grabbing you a little too tightly.
This caused you to let out a yelp, which led to Karl smiling against your skin. His teeth nipped at your jaw, down to your neck, and he was pulling you as close to him as possible. Your bodies curved together, perfectly made for each other.
Your back arched and you pressed harder against him as his lips trailed down to your breasts. One of Karl’s hands rested on the small of your back while the other held the back of your neck again. He was holding you in place. No chance of escape, but you did not want to escape. You wanted him more than anything.
The bath quickly spiraled into a heated makeout session and that’s all it was. Neither of you got a chance to actually bathe. You knew you’d be annoyed later, but for the time being, you were more than okay with it.
“It’s getting cool.” You gasped out between soft moans.
“Hmph,” Karl huffed against your skin. “I think we should continue in my room anyway.”
You nodded and the both of you stood up. Karl’s hand grabbed your and he helped you out of the tub. Standing beside, naked and vulnerable, you realized how much bigger he was. You weren’t too sure of his height, but, fuck, he was tall.
Karl grabbed a towel and sloppily dried the both of you off before easily picking you up and making his way towards his room. Once you did reach his room, he threw you on the bed and loomed over you. You inhaled loudly and held yourself up with your forearms.
“Lay flat on your back.”
You cocked your head, but you obviously didn’t move fast enough. Karl’s hand met your shoulder and he gently pushed you down.
“I said lay down.”
Your back hit the soft bed and your eyes hit the ceiling. You could hear Karl complain about you being a brat and you huffed. You were going to protest, really, you were! But then, the feeling of Karl’s lips on your inner thigh made you come to a complete halt.
Your hair stood on end and your fists balled around the sheets. Karl’s fingers danced around your entrance and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear him laugh.
“So wet, already, kitten.” Karl’s fingers pushed into your pussy and his lips stayed pressed to your thigh, slowly making his way up. “All for me...”
You let out a hiss as two of Karl’s fingers pulled out and quickly pushed back in. Karl shifted and, while his fingers pumped in and out, his lips met your cunt and his tongue swirled around your clit.
“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Karl, please-”
“Use your words, kitten.”
“Please, let me cum!”
Karl let out a low growl and his fingers pumped a little faster. His tongue moved back to your clit and lightly pressed onto it, while rubbing circles around it. A heat began to pool into your stomach and you let out a whine. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. All you could do was moan and cry out.
“Cum for me,” Karl rumbled, and your back arched into him.
Quickly, you came undone. Stars blurred your vision and everything tensed. Karl let you ride out your orgasm, gently licking at your pussy while you came down. You were a twitching mess, lying spread out on his bed.
“Please, I need you, I need you to fuck me!”
Your voice was low, but the excitement was there. Karl crawled over you and you looked up at him. His hand grabbed at his cock and he began to pump it a couple of times, percum spilling from the head.
When you really got a good look at his cock, you were nervous. Worried you weren’t ready for him.
“Trust me, kitten, you’re wet enough.”
You nodded and leaned back. Karl positioned himself at the entrance of your pussy and slowly pushed in. Moaning from the pleasure, your hips bucked into his. Karl froze and his tongue clicked at you.
“Eager, are we?”
You couldn’t help but nod.
“Fine.”
Karl’s movements were slow at first, steady. You whined under him and rocked your hips upwards. Karl lazily grabbed your hip and pushed into the bed, not letting you move anymore. You groaned and wanted nothing more than for his hips ro roll into yours.
Suddenly, he was picking up the pace. He leaned his forehead against yours and let out a guttural groan.
“So fucking good... And all mine.”
“All yours, fuck- please, I promise, I’m all yours.”
Something in his eyes became very dark, animalistic almost. His pace quickened again, his hips pressing into yours before pulling back and pushing all the way back in. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The sound of your wailing was surely heard by the villagers.
“Going to fuck you so good, kitten. You’re being so good for me.”
You let out a loud cry of pleasure, words becoming too hard to say. Your brain was mush and your body was only reacting to Karl. “Karl!” You let out a loud cry, finally reaching your orgasm. He seemed close too.
His hips were rutting into you, his movements becoming sloppy and fast. He was growling in your ear, his chest rumbling. You were easily sent into another orgasm. Your eyes screwed shut and your nails clawed down his scarred back.
“So fucking good, kitten- Fuck!”
Karl finally reached his orgasm, fucking his release into you. His hips slowed and his growling became more quiet.
“Let’s stay like this a moment.”
His cock pressed deep inside you, unmoving, as your pussy clenched around him. His chest pressed yours and his breathing was rugged and fast.
“So,” your voice hoarse, “Should Daniela give me gifts more often?”
That was it, Karl was absolutely ready for round two.
3K notes · View notes
Note
Hello! can you do a scenario with fem!reader and father's best friend!namjoon? I totally understand if this is a concept you're uncomfortable with. All the armys are going crazy with the dilf!bts concept so I need to have this 😭
Tbh that's a hard concept (like absolutely don't do this irl y'all plss it's not okay if it's not fiction– go in the notes to read my PSA pls) so I had to write a bit of plot at the beginning just because I wanted to make it as less weird as possible lol
Namjoon wasn't the type of family friend you got to see a lot growing up. He was, however, the type of friend you got to hear about a lot. Your dad had spent his high school years being in a band that never really had its break, and Namjoon had apparently been the youngest member and your father's favourite. He kept talking about how he "raised" him, meaning he helped him get his first kiss and taught him about girls. Then your dad got your mum pregnant right after graduating, and they both decided to move to the US to find a job and start their family. Your family. And so your dad lost touch with his best friend.
He talked about him quite often, and you knew he had even visited once when you were still too young to have a memory of it. You had only ever seen a couple of pictures of them together; Namjoon looked like a very cringy 13-year-old with a terrible haircut. Not that your dad as a teenager looked any better. But that's beside the point. It doesn't matter what he looked like back then, today you probably wouldn't be able to even recognize him even if he passed you on the street.
"Did I tell you? My best friend moved here from Korea! The band kids are back together!"
Namjoon came back into your father's life at around the same time as you left it– moved away for college. And you kept getting all these updates on how great it was that they found each other again, how many things they did together and in general how happy your dad was. When you visited home for Christmas, Namjoon was away so you didn't run into him. And almost a year after he had moved there, you would finally meet him during the summer. Your father invited him for dinner one hot evening in July.
You opened the door to find him standing outside, your mother just a step behind to greet him. “Joonie! So glad you could make it. Come on in, come on in... Ah! As you know, this is our daughter.”
The man was tall and handsome, nothing like the pictures you had seen. And familiar. His eyes met yours and he smiled, making your blood run cold— you had seen that man before. Not even a week ago, staring at you at the bar while sipping his whiskey until you decided he was too hot and couldn’t be older than 30, so you walked up to him and gave him a napkin with your number and a lipstick stain of a kiss on it. He never called.
“Wow,” Namjoon said without his tone matching his words. “She has grown up so much.” And he looked you up and down again, checking you out kind of like he had done that night. Your entire face was burning, turning on your heels to get away. What the fuck kind of luck was that? He was your dad's friend? You hoped– you begged that he didn't recognize you. He wasn't saying anything, though his eyes kept on stealing looks, and so you thought you might have had a close escape. Until you run into each other in the kitchen. Alone. "Come here, young lady," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. You already felt like you were in trouble. "Does your father know you go around giving your number to men almost twice your age?"
He was so close, eyes travelling lazily down your form with a smirk on his lips. "No," you choked. "I– I don't– You were staring at me, that's why I thought..."
"I was staring at you because I was trying to figure out if you were my best friend's daughter."
Hearing him say the words made your cheeks burn. Defeat. He had a logical excuse and all you had was that he was a little too much your type. And he sounded like he was scolding you, reminding you of your place. You lowered your head, really wanting to get out. "Please don't tell him."
Don't tell him I hit on you. Don't tell him I wanted to fuck you.
Namjoon didn't reply right away, but late that night you got a text from an unknown number. "I won't tell him anything."
He won't tell him anything. Perhaps that could be applied to what had already happened, or what would happen in the future.
You didn't text frequently, but you did nonetheless. And even though you were sure both of you would say they were simple, innocent texts, how innocent could they really be when the man already knew how you felt about him? Maybe you were crazy, but you thought he might like you too. Maybe he liked the fact that you liked him. It wasn't evident in anything he did or say, just the vibes you got from him those days he visited your house, or the way he looked at you when you were left alone for a second. The summer passed by so fast when every other day you met your father's best friend in one way or another.
When it was time for you to move back to the city where you attended college, Namjoon just so happened to be going there for some work too. And your parents were grateful that you had someone to travel with. The car ride was long and mostly silent. You had never been left alone for so long and suddenly you realised how hard it was to keep a conversation going without talking about how horny he made you feel just by being in the same, tight space with you. But the farther away you got from home, the less you cared about keeping your good reputation up.
"Where will you sleep tonight?" you asked him after he helped drop off all your stuff at your apartment late that night and was already at the door, ready to leave.
"I'll find a hotel," he told you, hand still on the door handle.
"You can stay here if you want to."
"Don't–" His plea was soft-spoken, in contrast to the intense way his eyes were piercing yours.
"Don't what?" you acted dumb. "All I'm saying is I'm sure dad would rather you stay instead of paying for a room. You're like family, anyway."
You noticed how he took in a deep breath, grip around the knob getting harder. "Don't bring him into this."
Saying that you two shouldn't mention your father was like admitting what was going on right now was beyond innocent. And even though your stomach clenched at his harsh tone, you bowed your head and whispered. "I'm sorry."
"This is so wrong," you heard him call loudly all of a sudden, making you look back at him. He was chewing on his lip desperately. "I was there when your dad got your mom pregnant. Do you know what I said? Fuck, man, how are you gonna get out of this bullshit? I shouldn’t be…"
You blinked at him, waiting to hear the end of the sentence. "Shouldn't be what?" You weren't gonna let him slip away that easily. You would push him until he had to say what he wanted to say. It was your only chance, anyway.
Namjoon sighed. He pushed the door closed and walked up to you steadily all while he was staring straight into your eyes. "Why did you give me your number that night?"
Your breathing was already getting heavier. You wouldn't back away. What was the point? He knew already. "Because you were hot. And I wanted you to fuck me."
He chewed his lip for a few seconds, watching your face as he contemplated his next words. "Why do you want me to stay over tonight?"
You gulped. He was so close, closer than ever. "Because you're hot," you whispered. Glance down on his lips. "And I want you to fuck me."
He closed his eyes momentarily before he was exhaling loudly. "Fucking– hell!"
And he instantly moved forward, one hand grabbing the back of your head as he brought your face to crush on his, mouths smashing against each other after all the times you had dreamed about it. It was so much better than you could have imagined, lips full and soft parting yours for his tongue to slip in between, making you moan. And you were trying to get closer and closer, almost tripping as you walked blindly further into the apartment. His jacket was discarded on the floor before your shirt joined it, and Namjoon was growling before attacking your neck with his teeth.
"Daddy..." The word truly slipped out of you, and he was pausing for a moment, pulling away to look at you.
"Really? You're really gonna call me daddy?" Your eyes were wide and cheeks burning, squirming away from him before he grabbed your wrist to keep you close. "Shit," he grunted, not sounding mad at all. "Alright, baby. Show daddy where your room is, need to get you in bed right away."
And you mewled at his words. You were there in no time, pulling the rest of your clothes off as Namjoon undressed too. Big and thick, he was even hotter like that, making you press your legs together as you took the sight in. And when he removed his boxers too, you got to found out his dick matched the rest of his body perfectly, long and thick and so hot it made your mouth water.
"Daddy," you whined as he started crawling over you. "You're so big. You're gonna tear me apart."
His large hand grabbed your jaw. "That's what you get for playing with big boys." And he kissed you ruthlessly again. His other hand travelling down your form until he found your pussy, fingers playing with your folds and humming in satisfaction. "So wet. Is that all for me, baby?"
"Yes, daddy," you moaned, hips trying to grind on his hand for some more friction. "I've been wet for you since I first saw you."
"Fuck. I know, baby," he breathed into your ear, two fingers slipping slowly inside you and stretching you out. "I could tell. You weren't hiding it very well, baby. How much you wanted me to ruin you. Which is why daddy's been hard for you all this time, too." Your breath was hitching as he was moving his hands slowly, not even trying to fuck you like that, just trying to get you ready for his cock. And he stopped. "Are you gonna let daddy fuck you raw, baby?"
You almost screamed. "Fuck, yes, daddy, please! Fuck me open with your cock."
Namjoon was growling as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. "What a dirty mouth! Who taught you to speak like that, you dirty, little whore? I thought you were a good girl."
Your nails were scratching his back as you whined and squirmed underneath him. "Oh, daddy, please! I need you! I'll be good for you."
And you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance as he shushed you. "Alright then. Be a good girl for daddy and take this big cock like the good, little slut you are." And he shoved himself in you.
"O–oh my god!" you yelped. Namjoon didn't go easy on you, didn't go slow or gentle, he started pounding you fast and hard right away, truly fucking you open like you had asked him to. You were squirming underneath him but his body was so big and strong, it was caging you completely. And just to shut you up he kissed you again, tongue so deep in your mouth he was choking you. Namjoon was fucking you so hard he brought tears to your eyes, and you felt euphoric being used by him like that.
"My dirty, little cunt," he rasped after he freed your mouth. "Like taking my cock like that?" You were nodding, mewling, unable to speak. "What a good girl. Letting daddy fuck her as hard as he wants." He leaned back, grabbing your arms until he had your wrists pinned above your head and the new position gave him the ability to piston his hips against yours even faster, diving even deeper.
"Fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum," you cried, legs shaking as they fought against his abusing thrusts between them.
"So easy," Namjoon panted with a smirk. "So easy to please you. Gonna cum cuz you've never had dick like daddy's before, huh? No one's ever fucked you this good? Those little boys your age, I bet they don't know shit about pleasing a nasty girl like you." He spat on his free hand and brought it right down on your clit, pressing on it hard. And you were moaning even louder. "There you go, baby. You can cum on daddy's dick now."
"Namjoon–" you yelped, and you felt your orgasm pop, gushing all your juices over him as he kept fucking you through it. He slowed down a bit, coming down to kiss you sloppily as you continued to whine with each thrust against your sensitive, tight walls.
"That's my good girl," he whispered, kissing you almost lovingly. "Don't worry, baby. We're not nearly done yet." And his thrusts slowly got deeper and deeper. "You really shouldn't have let me fuck you, baby. Cuz now I don't ever plan on stopping."
Masterlist | Part 2
781 notes · View notes
morgana-ren · 3 years
Text
SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 
Tumblr media
Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.
Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.
Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.
Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.
All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.
Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.
He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.
So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.
Great.
True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.
His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 
So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.
So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 
Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.
Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 
So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 
Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?
You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.
Strangely though, you don’t run off.
If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.
Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.
It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.
Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.
You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.
He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.
Except he forgets one crucial detail-
The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 
You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.
It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.
You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 
All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.
It makes him smile.
His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 
lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass
KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.
Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot
KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face
st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol
Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.
He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.
‘Here, you decide then.’
Thus the shitstorm begins. 
st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao
lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u
Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already
VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch
lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 
VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?
Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all
VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 
Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 
lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do
VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up
Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself
It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?
Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.
Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.
But you don’t. 
This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.
 ‘Maybe I will.’ 
That’s how it starts. 
Snowball into snowstorm.
With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.
Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.
Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.
So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 
The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 
It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?
He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 
Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 
He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.
The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.
Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.
It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.
He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-
Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-
He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 
“Shit-” 
Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.
He thinks so.
Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.
With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?
Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.
There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.
He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.
Speak of the she-devil.
“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 
He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.
“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“
Yeah you will.
Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.
You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.
He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.
“Oh- okay, yeah-“
Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.
“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.
“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”
“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 
You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.
He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.
And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.
Oh, this should be fun.
181 notes · View notes
cow-smells · 3 years
Text
You’re Mine [Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Reader]
Requests: 1. there’s a new girl on miyagi-do, she’s classmates with sam, hawk, miguel, tory, robby, demetri, etc... for some reason, she and hawk didn’t like each other (he can be on cobra kai or eagle fangs, that’s your choice), and one day they make a bet, which this girl wins. hawk has to be her slave for a whole week. BONUS IDEA: a stolen kiss during a fight. maybe admitting feelings for each other? i’d love that! ( @berriewrites​ ) 2. love the hawk smut but i’d also love some fluffy hawk about him secretly liking the reader who’s in miyagido but he tries to act all tough and hide it (anon) 3. AHHH CAN WE GET SOME HAWK FLUFF!? I love the idea where you swear that you don’t like him and you guys make eye contact from a distance when he’s standing with his friend group and you’re standing with yours and you get flustered and he can tell and he smirks and just ahh (anon)
A/N: this took so longggg this came out longer than expected (and honestly i could go on, but i wanted to get this out already) + real life has come hitting all at once and its been overwhelming lol. thanks for being patient and sticking around <3 i enjoyed writing some fluff (amidst a flurry of smut reuests loool :)
Words: 2981
Warnings: none
Read this on AO3
Summary: You don't like Hawk. He's a bad person, that much you know for sure. You're ready to make his life miserable when he loses a bet with you, but then you actually have to spend time with him...
Tumblr media
   You didn't like this.
Forgiveness seemed to be a virtue that evaded you. Eagle-fang and Miagi-Do were uniting and everyone seemed to be all for the union – except for you.
Some things were simply unforgivable. For you, Hawk breaking Demetri's arm was one of them.
You and Demetri became nearly inseparable friends when you both joined Miagi-Do. He had told you all about his former friend Eli and how he'd abandoned him in the favor of bullying him in any way he could come up with; that bullying taking a turn to the extreme when Hawk took to breaking bones.
    Demetri had since forgiven him, but you hadn't.
Demetri had a softer heart than he let on, and he missed Eli terribly, so when the latter suggested they work together he gladly accepted.
But you were more objective about the situation, as you weren't a part of it, and forgiving such cruelty was beyond you.
    The one good thing about the dojos coming together was the intense dedication that grew on everyone. Now that you had a common enemy, many participants would hang around in Miyagi-Do's dojo long after training sessions, training until you could hardly move your limbs.
     The sun had ago long fallen when you and the remaining students took places around a mat, ready for the sparring session to begin.
With Daniel and Sensei Lawrence gone, you had taken to writing down names and pulling them out of a bowl to decide on sparring partners.
    All the negative emotions you felt channeled in to great excitement when Miguel called your name – followed by Hawk's.
You could have sworn you saw a look of something you couldn't read – concern, perhaps, or fear? Before he seemed to share your excitement as he stepped on to the mat with a grin that was almost predatory.
    Two could play at that game.
    “You're as good as dead,” you said, your voice dripping venom. Hawk's smirk just grew.
    “Is that so, princess? I'd like to see you score as much as a point.”
A light bulb lit in your mind.
    “Yeah?” you taunted. “What if I get three?”
Hawk laughed. “You got a lot of confidence, don't you? I'll tell you what. If you can score three points on me and win, I'll...” He bit his lip as he thought. “I'll let you boss me around for a week. Whatever you want.”
The blood rushed through your veins, ready more than ever to fight. You were grateful for the lack of your sensei, knowing this nonsense wouldn't stand if he were here.
    “Deal.”
    “Are you guys done?” Miguel huffed, standing between you two, ready to referee. “Good. Bow.”
    You bowed without intent and got straight to attacking. Hawk didn't expect it; he came from the dojo that prides itself on strike first and yours cared mainly about defense. You earned your first point within seconds.
    That only served to throw Hawk off his game further. He dived in right away for the attack and was caught unprepared when you fell, sweeping his leg.
    You earned your second point.
By that point, Hawk might as well have been fuming out the ears. His brows furrowed in anger as he looked at you like you were the most vile thing he had ever seen; that satisfied something within you.
    The flurry of hits and misses was so rapid you were caught unprepared when you managed to land a punch on Hawk, Miguel's voice rising as he named you victor.
    Hawk huffed, clearly exerted. You smiled. “You're mine.”
You were fully intending to use this bet to its full potential.
The next day was Saturday, and Hawk, true to his word, showed up at your doorstep at 9 p.m sharp, just as you had ordered.
You paid him no kindness when you opened the door, not exchanging a word with him before demanding: “Helmet?”
Hawk handed you a helmet, not looking particularly pleased about the situation but not being able to stop himself from taking in an eyeful of you anyway.
You needed a ride to tonight's party – that's where Hawk came in, beginning his work for you as a personal valet. Accordingly for the event, you were dressed meticulously, showing off your best features – and if you were to judge by Hawks reaction, you were on your way to turn heads.
You climbed on the motorcycle after him, circling your arms around him loosely; but when he kicked off and started the ride, you couldn't help but tighten your hold.
    The party was overcrowded with people from the moment you got there; Yasmine's parties tended to get a bit... excessive.
You ditched Hawk the moment you got sight of your friends, ditching the helmet on his bike to run over to Sam, Moon and Yasmine.
Yasmine didn't hide the dirty look she sent at Hawk. “Ew. Who's the freak?”
You grinned proudly. “My valet. Ignore him. Actually...”
You looked over to the drinks table; someone had tapped a keg and it was being swarmed with people.
    “Hey, Hawk!”
Hawk turned to you, the slightest furrow in his brow as he had already joined his own friends. You pointed at the drinks table. “Vodka soda!” you ordered.
He rolled his eyes, but did it anyway. Your friends watched wide-eyed as he obeyed you wordlessly, bringing over the drink. “Anything else, princess?”
    “Yes,” you gave him a judging once-over. “Don't drink tonight. I want to get home in one piece.”
He bit his cheeks and glared at you before growling “Fine” and returning to his friends.
At some point you didn't even want a drink any more, it was just fun ordering Hawk to go fetch you another one; and so, you found yourself unintentionally drunk, laughing mindlessly at anything said and swaying on your feet.
You didn't even know how late it had gotten when Hawk came in the living room looking for you, ready to go home as most the others already had.
You had earlier made him promise to take you home as well, and – something you were quickly learning was, Hawk was definitely a man of his word. He spotted you half-sprawled on the couch, laughing with Yasmine at something you didn't fully register. Your cup was askew in your hand, contents about to spill over when Hawk grabbed it out of your hand, placing it on a table nearby.
    “Come on, Y/n. It's time to go.”
    “Not yet!” you grinned gleefully, taking hold of his wrist and shaking it dumbly as you spoke. “Later! We're having fun!”
Hawk placed his free hand on yours that held him. “It's four AM, Y/n, time to call it a night.”
    You didn't reply, instead resorting to pouting like a child.
His eyes softened (the puppy eyes never failed to work) – but his jaw clenched. “If you don't come now I'm leaving you here.”
    “Fine!” you hurriedly rose to your feet, using Hawk for balance. “Bye,” you pouted at Yasmine childishly as Hawk pulled you away from her and out of the house.
The sudden quiet of the outside was nearly overwhelming, Hawk's voice sounding too loud for you. “How am I supposed to get you home when you're this drunk?”
    “I'm not drunk,” you answered instinctively, knowing that you very well were.
    “If you can make it to the bike in a straight line, I'll believe you.” You look at his bike, ten feet ahead. You decide to keep holding on to him. “That's what I thought. Listen. You gotta stay awake, okay? I can't have you falling off in the middle of the road, or making me sway, because then we're both dead. Got it?”
    “Dead. Got it.”
Hawk didn't look convinced, but placed a helmet on you and buckled it anyway.
It was about ten minutes in to the ride when Hawk pulled over. He turned to you, his voice as serious as he could make it; you simply smiled, somewhat dazed. “This isn't going to work.”
    “Hm?”
    “Y/n!” Hawk called, trying to wake you up a little. “Don't fall asleep!”
    “Yes, sensei.” you slurred. Had you been any more awake, you might have noticed the way Hawk's eyes widened at that.
Hawk had to refocus himself to go on. “I'm serious. Look... My house is closer than yours. You can sleep it off at mine, and I'll take you wherever tomorrow. Okay?”
    “Okay,” you shrugged, your mind not caring about much other than regaining the warmth of Hawk's body pressed against yours.
Minutes later you pulled up at an unfamiliar house. Hawk unbuckled your helmet and set it aside, helping you off the bike and guiding you inside, motioning Shhh as he led you through the corridor of his darkened house until you reached his room.
The most natural thing for you to do the moment you saw a bed was to collapse on it. In the seconds Hawk turned his back on you to find you Pj's to wear, you had fallen asleep.
    Looking at you on his bed, Hawk exhaled heavily. He was very aware of your hatred of him; what he couldn't understand was, if everyone else forgave him, why not you?
It certainly didn't help that you looked the way you do, that you were talented, and that everyone loved you.
So Hawk undid your shoes and pulled them off, laying a blanket on you before leaving you to sleep.
    You woke up groggy, somewhat hungover and in a strangers room; an interesting start to the day.
You didn't really want to leave the comfort of your lonesome in the room but it was clear you would have to face the music at some point, so you womaned up and left the room.
Following the smell of food cooking, you walk down a hallway to find a red-haired man in the kitchen, his tattooed back to you, muscles flexing as he flipped a pancake.
With his hair down, it took you a moment to register who you're seeing; who's bed you spent the night in.
    Hawk.
Your first instinct was to groan, to cower in to yourself in regret; but then you remember how tenderly he treated you the night prior, making sure you got safely to a bed, letting you have his bed.
You swallowed your pride and stepped in to the kitchen. “Morning.”
Hawk's shoulders jumped in fright as you startled him; you couldn't help but giggle. He quickly rightened himself, straightening his back and flexing his abs as he turned to you.
    He was good looking and he knew it. You hated him.
However, you felt your power returning to you as he couldn't help but look you up and down, your disheveled clothes revealing a bit more than they had the night before. Hawk inhaled sharply, reminding himself of who he was, how he was supposed to act: unfazed.
    “Bout time you got up.”
You frowned, looking at the kitchen clock. “What do you mean about time? It isn't even noon yet.”
    “Yeah, well,” Hawk flipped a pancake on to a nearby plate. “You wanted me to take you to the mall today, right? I have practice later, so it's gotta be now.” The Eagle-fangs were holding weekend practices of their own, something you weren't a fan of.
    “Jeez, fine,” you sneered, allowing yourself to sit at the kitchen table. Amidst the chaos that was waking up in Hawks bed, you had totally forgot you previously asked him to take you out today. Yasmine's parents were making her take tutoring lessons, Moon was doing some spiritual healing thing and Sam was with Miguel, so you were left all alone – but you certainly didn't intend on spending Sunday at home, doing nothing.
    Hawk finally shut off the burner and joined you at the table with a stack of pancakes and two plates in tow. “Eat away your hangover. I'm not gonna hold your hair up if you hurl.”
Breakfast with Hawk ended up being a surprisingly civil affair; so was shopping. There was something exciting about dragging him along after you, shop after shop, having him carry your bags and modeling clothes for him. And honestly, you were loving the effect you had on him. You knew he was trying to hide it, but you could see the way he grew antsy when you tried on bikinis. You loved teasing him, knowing he couldn't have you.
    What also didn't hurt was the way you two turned heads walking down streets together. You were undeniably gorgeous, and he... While at first you thought it was the bright red mohawk that grabbed peoples eyes, after a close inspection you couldn't deny he had fair features, too. You had to look away whenever he tensed his jaw, accentuating his jawline, or if God forbid he smiled, you had to deny the way his smile made your stomach knot up.
    As though to top off the experience of him, by the time you finished shopping, Hawk would have been late if he was to take you home, so you suggested he take you to practice with him and just take you home once he was finished. And oh my... You did not need to see him fighting. Having a whole hour to see his biceps flexing as the threw punches was doing you no favors; when you were both practicing you were too busy with yourself to notice him, but right then you had a whole hour to do nothing but stare.
At the end of the practice you rose when Hawk approached you, ready to go. When his sensei understood you were waiting there for him, he asked Hawk, “Yours?”
Hawk didn't answer; he merely smirked that Hawk smirk of his. His sensei nodded proudly. “Nice.” Creep.
You had a couple more days to squeeze the most you could out of your bet, and by all means were you planning on using them.
Hawk was taking you to school and home every day on the back of his bike – to Miyagi-do, too. It became a regular thing to see you two together, and if anyone was expecting you, they expected Hawk, too.
Just as the previous mornings, you and Hawk walked in to school together. Seeing your friends, you bid him goodbye and went to join them, your eyes lingering on him a bit too long as he said hello to Miguel.
Yasmine's jaw dropped as she looked at you, her expression scandalized. “What?” you asked.
    “You're totally in to the freak!”
    “What? No,” you denied – but even as the words left your mouth, you could hear your lack of conviction. “No.”
You looked back to where Hawk and Miguel stood; this time, he caught your eye. Then, with total audacity, he winked at you.
You felt heat rush through your body.
The smirk that grew on him suggested he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
    You hated it.
Deciding to put an end to this madness, you wordlessly leave your friends and march up to Hawk, a new rage running though you.
He stopped talking with Miguel when you reached him; Miguel visibly tensed at what he felt was a dangerous situation for him to be in.
    “Sidebar,” you ordered. Hawk smirked.
    “After you, princess.”
You hoped no one would notice when you lured him in to an empty classroom, but in all honesty, it was you and Hawk. There were always eyes on you two.
You turned to him once you were engulfed in the silence of the room. “Listen. I don't know what you're playing at, but cut it out. I own you, got it? Don't go winking at me in the hallway like I'm your girlfriend or something.”
You expected to see him cower, blush, show any sign of intimidation – but there was no such emotion. The smirk he wore only grew in confidence. “You sure about that?” he asked cheekily. “Because it seems to me like you'll find any excuse to be around me.”
You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. You were stunted for words; he went on. “Be honest with yourself. Once the week is up, you'll still find reasons to talk to me.”
You bit your cheeks; you hated how he was right, how he read you so easily. “And look, I'm done playing this game too.”
Your stomach dropped. Was he about to reject you, without you even confessing? “I'm not playing with you,” you tried to say intimidatingly, but your voice came out too small for comfort.
    “Me neither. So...” Hawk looked down at you; you could have drowned in his ocean eyes. You averted your gaze to the side, crossing your arms.
    “Fine. We can call it off early.”
Hawk chuckled. You wanted to punch him. “You still don't get it, do you?”
You returned your eyes to Hawk, ready to chew him out when he placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling you to him for a kiss.
You could feel yourself melting in to the kiss, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you as you finally got to experience what you didn't want to admit to yourself that you craved so deeply.
When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on you, your noses nearly touching. “I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Hawk admitted.
You half-smiled. “It's only been a week.”
Hawk had burst in laughter, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “You still don't get it.” Before you could protest his words, his lips met your once more.
    Maybe you could find it in you to forgive him, after all.
569 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 3 years
Text
The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3
Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol
A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))
Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises. 
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader
--
Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs. 
“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.” 
I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.” 
Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch. 
“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually. 
I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.” 
He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.” 
Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--” 
“You know he hated it.” 
I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it  better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better. 
So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.
Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?” 
I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk. 
“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”
Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.” 
“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.” 
He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.” 
He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it. 
Maybe I do need a drink. 
I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less. 
“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced. 
He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.” 
I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--” 
“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again. 
“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.” 
“We can’t even see Inej.” 
Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.” 
“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.” 
His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.” 
It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy. 
“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?” 
Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.
“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.” 
He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.
“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply. 
“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.” 
The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.” 
“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.” 
I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”
Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.
“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.” 
The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.  
I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.” 
“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.” 
She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.” 
“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.” 
My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.
“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones. 
I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.” 
She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.” 
Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”
“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.
I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.
When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand. 
My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him. 
I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay. 
I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him. 
The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem. 
I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…
The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here. 
Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.” 
“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.” 
Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”
“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive. 
I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.” 
At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”
Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.” 
“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.” 
Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.” 
He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.” 
“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--” 
“Who what?” Finally--progress. 
Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way. 
He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.” 
“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.” 
What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.” 
“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.” 
The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs. 
“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 
He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.” 
Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”
“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.” 
I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.” 
Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
I frown freely, “Kaz--” 
“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“For the job?”
Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.
The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--” 
“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel. 
Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.” 
My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door. 
--
General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
208 notes · View notes
lesbian-deadpool · 3 years
Text
Happy Little Accidents
Part Two: Hope
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Words: 2,317
Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??
Request: Yes
Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.
A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.
Ko-Fi
Tumblr media
(Not My GIF)
***
Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.
On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.
But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.
However.
You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.
So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.
And there was so much work that had to be done.
Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.
It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.
Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.
You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.
The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.
Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.
You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.
"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.
"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.
You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."
"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.
"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.
"It look's decorated to me?"
"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."
"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."
"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."
"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.
"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.
"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"
"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."
It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.
Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.
There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.
However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.
Nothing like this had ever happened before.
Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.
You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.
So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.
But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.
Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.
There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.
On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.
It was so fucking hard.
Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.
But still, the process continued.
"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.
"Oh, we know."
"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.
"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."
Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."
"Well, goodbye then."
You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.
"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.
You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.
"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."
That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.
***
Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.
If you thought you were bad.
Natasha was far worse.
She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.
You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.
And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.
No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.
It all seemed so foreign now.
Like a past life.
'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.
A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.
Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.
"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.
Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.
"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."
"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."
Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.
"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."
Then they walked away.
With you calling after them.
"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"
Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.
"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.
"Hey. How have you two been?"
"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.
"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"
"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."
The care worker laughed at that.
"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."
Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.
And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.
You adored your little family.
You just wished you could have them all home.
'One day', you thought, 'one day'.
Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.
Just like the last time.
And the time before that.
And the time before that.
And the one before that.
It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.
Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.
"I know, my little love, I know-"
"Mommy!" Hope cried.
"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."
"Mommy!"
"I know."
Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.
"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."
"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."
"But it almost seems endless, Nat."
"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."
"I hope you're right."
***
She was right.
Of course, she was right.
She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.
It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.
But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.
Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.
Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.
You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.
She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.
"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.
"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."
"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."
You gave an overdramatic gasp.
"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"
Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.
"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."
"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.
She was already taking after you.
Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.
She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.
It had been a long time since then.
And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.
***
Permanent Tag List: 
@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,
SFW Tag list: 
@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,
329 notes · View notes
dreamyjoons · 4 years
Text
Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt - pjm
Tumblr media
⇢ another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.
Tumblr media
Genre/warnings: smut, 18+! ‘enemies’-to-lovers, swearing, semi-public smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, honestly at this point a sweat kink, multiple orgasms, light choking, some spitting, unprotected sex, creampie.
Words: 14.2k lol
A/N: well hello! I’m back baby, and to celebrate i had to exorcise some Jimin demons. Did i talk about him sweating a lot? Yes. Did i use my favourite pic of him for the header? Also yes. Don’t @ me, i already know. I hope you enjoy!!!
Tumblr media
"You're so wrong about this, it's actually kind of embarrassing."
"No you're wrong, only an idiot would think the way you do."
"Guys, no one - and I really mean this - no one cares about what kind of cups you need for beer pong. You've been arguing this for like twenty minutes now." Hoseok huffs, sitting back into the couch.
"Eighteen minutes." Namjoon sighs, tipping back his cup and gulping down its contents.
"But solo cups are far superior-"
"Jimin, they aren't!" You snap, dragging your glare away from his rolling eyes, deciding you never wanna look at him ever again.
"Please stop." Jungkook sighs, slipping off the chair beside Hoseok. His eyes flick between you before scanning the rest of the people in the room, slowly moving to the thump of the music. "Gonna find Yoongi and Tae." He mumbles before disappearing through the mass of bodies.
You'd been at the house party for less than three minutes before you and Jimin found a reason to have an argument. At first, it was how late you were - even though you found out he only got there five minutes before you. Then when you commented on the music choices to Yoongi, he found a way to disagree - despite you both knowing he loved the artist. On and on it went. Now here you were; Namjoon and Hoseok on the couch watching you both with bored expressions, Jin tuned out and typing rapidly on his phone beside them. Jimin stood to your left, and you made sure to keep him totally out of your sight.
But it was getting harder to hear him, thankfully. And he was losing steam. The house was crowded and loud, lively dancers everywhere and the smell of alcohol rich in the air. It was already way too hot out, but being stuffed inside at this party was causing everyone to sweat. You could see condensation forming on the walls.
The house was huge and expensively decorated, belonging to some producer friend of Namjoon. Marbled floors met white walls, a rug carpet covering the floor that made you wince when you thought about the price. It was sprawling and full of a ridiculous number rooms. Yet still, people had to squeeze between the spaces, excuses and polite taps lost in the fury of heat and confinement.
You held your can to your forehead to cool yourself down but it had grown warm waiting for you and Jimin to finish your current spout. You grimace but take a sip anyway - at least if you get a buzz you can ignore him for a little. You felt a pit of guilt at making Jungkook leave. But you were riled up, and you couldn't back down. Not to Jimin.
You saw Jimin tip his head back to drink out of the corner of your eye, but you daren't look at him. He was as insufferable as he was hot as hell, and not just in temperature.
However, you had managed to take a better look at him earlier in the night. His beige silk shirt was already sticking to his skin, tucked into tight jeans blacker than you had ever seen. Who wears silk to a house party? The necklace that he always wore sat just below his collarbones, and you're reminded of all the times you've wanted to throttle him with that damn chain. He'd been pushing his dark hair back all night - you could tell by how it fell about his face, silky strands falling into his eyes. Was he wearing some kind of lipgloss too? You grumble into your drink. He was too pretty for his own good.
At first the sparring was fun. There was an attraction there, on your part at least. It was spicy, something hot and fast, a way to see how compatible you were. Maybe you had some feelings for him. Possibly, potentially.
But over time it devolved. It felt like he'd say things just to get a rise out of you, to draw your attention into a battle with him. And now here you were, bitterly avoiding the man's existence.
"God, why is it so hot here?" Jin gasps, blotting his face with his sleeve.
"Probably haven't got the air con on." Jimin shrugs, taking a swig from his glass.
"It's on-" You start, eyes flicking to where you thought you could see a vent in the ceiling. It was open, so you assumed it would be on - it had to be.
"I highly doubt that."
Jimin gives you the look he always does - where he tilts his head back and stares into your soul. His plump lips part, tongue pressed behind his teeth, goading you into his trap. He gets his way every time.
"Why would they not have it on? It's burning hot even without a house full of people."
"Then it's clearly a crappy unit." He shrugs, but his words are quick and his eyes are still intensely focused on you.
"Jimin have you seen the rest of this house? Don't be dumb-"
"Shut up!"
You and Jimin spin to your friends who had all shouted in unison. The ones who could still stand to be around you both arguing, anyway. Several of the dancers that were nearby stopped to look at the exclamation but slowly drifted back into the music - albeit before taking a step further away from your group.
"Enough. I'm gonna put an end to this once and for all." Namjoon gets to his feet and strides away with purpose, standing a head above nearly everyone in the crowd.
You shiftily look at Jimin before silently waiting for Namjoon to return, confusion thick in your brain. You awkwardly chewed on your lip as the seconds ticked by, before finally he stalks back, his bag under his arm.
He throws himself back into his seat, flips open the top of his bag and rifles through.
Finally he pulls out a heap of bright yellow material, and with a small noise, he dumps his bag beside him before bolting up. He unravels the material and holds it up to you, grin growing on his face.
It takes you a few seconds to focus on what he is holding out to you and Jimin - but when you realise, you gasp.
"'Our get along shirt'? Namjoon you've gotta be joking." you splutter, scanning the shirt.
It was a sickly yellow, 'our get along shirt' printed on it in what appeared to be black glitter. It could probably fit both you and Jimin in it, maybe Yoongi could slip in too. It looked somewhat roomy, but that was not the point.
"What?" Jimin asks, lips parted as he stares into the glitter.
"You're both gonna wear it and get over whatever bullshit is going on here." Namjoon says so casually, as if he was asking the time or giving directions. But you saw the seriousness in the minute movements of his face. The clench on his jaw, the hardiness of his eyes.
"We're adults Namjoon, you can't expect us to wear that." Jimin's face had gone into a full blush, but his frown was deep as he stared at Namjoon.
"You are both gonna wear it."
"No-" You shout, but Namjoon pointedly huffs at you, and you take the hint.
"Put the shirt on. By the end of the night, either one of you will have killed the other or you have this sorted out. Because if not, you'll end up pushing us all away. For good." Namjoon finishes with a sigh, the depth of his gaze so severe it confirms that he isn’t playing with you.
You look behind him at Jin and Hoseok, and the direction in which Jungkook had walked away. Jin and Hoseok looked deadly serious, no hint of a smile or a cackle of laughter like you'd expect.
He had a point. You knew it. But it was so hard - Jimin couldn't let things lie, and you couldn't back away from a fight when it was him you were fighting. But to see others dropping out from around you...
"Hand over the shirt."
You spin to stare at Jimin. His face was tight, jaw set and eyebrows drawn. It had dawned on him too, just how far this had gone. But he obviously didn't like the idea of it, and neither did you.
"Fine but if I do kill him I’m taking you all down with me as accessories." You sigh, reaching forward and taking the shirt from Namjoon.
“How long have you had this, Joon?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
“Long enough.”
You turn it in your hands and with a deep breath, you pull the shirt over your head, sticking your arm through the sleeve and head through the collar. Your left arm hangs loosely in the shirt, and you begin to fret about what you should do with it. Maybe you should just stick it in your pocket? You don't wanna brush anything-
Before you could follow that train of thought, Jimin tugs you and the shirt towards him. You follow, gulping thickly. He casts one last look at Namjoon before putting his head under the bottom of the shirt. within seconds his head is through the collar, his shoulder bumping yours as he tries to get comfortable.
The air is thick around you, the extra warmth of him being so close to you making the heat rise on your face. You were strongly aware of every microscopic move he makes, your senses keenly aware of his proximity. He lets out a harsh sigh, and you feel the breath ripple over the collar and down the shirt. A pout settles on his lips, glossy and wholly enticing - and entirely too close.
His face was inches from yours, shoulders stuck rigidly together as you subtly wrestle for space. The shirt was obviously made for kids, and much smaller than you had originally anticipated. Two kids would be able to almost comfortably stand side by side. You and Jimin had barely enough excess shirt, but the collar was far too small. His hand grazes mercilessly across your thigh, the hardness of his rings pressing into the material of your jeans.
You hear a click of a camera, and your attention snaps up to see Hoseok taking a photo of you both on his phone. With both you and Jimin glaring at him, he snaps another and giggles.
"One for Jungkook." He grins, before flipping his phone to you.
Instinctively you step forward to look, but the lack of space drags Jimin along with you. He crashes into your back, a steadying hand reaching out for your hip, a strangled grunt by your ear. You choke on your breath, and weakly tug at the collar as if it was the cause of your shock.
His hand is warm, the heat pulsating from his palm across your hip. If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now. You shuffle back a little, easing the tension in the shirt that tugged tightly against you. Jimin brings up a hand and anxiously pushes his hair back from his face, his jaw set so sharply you could cut your finger on it.
"Well, there's bound to be a few teething problems but I'm sure you'll both work it out." Namjoon smiles, eyes bright and full of mischief. "Come on boys, let's give them some space."
You give Namjoon the fiercest glare you could muster before he walks away, but all he does is chuckle at you. Hoseok waves brightly whilst Jin merely winks - until soon all that remained was you and Jimin, hot, flustered and already tired of it all.
"Okay, now that they're gone-" Jimin mutters, twisting in the shirt so that his back was against you. You shuffle back as not to touch him, your mind a hazy hot mess.
Your hand dances threateningly close to his ass so you snatch it up to your chest, staring at the ceiling and holding back an agonised groan.
He brings his hands up and after a few seconds you hear a loud rip.
You snap your head to him to see that he'd ripped the collar almost to the end of the shoulder, giving you more space. You let out a breath and you both adapted to the space, but his shoulder was still brushing you. At least his face was at a less dangerous distance from yours now.
"Do... you wanna sit?" He asks quietly, A faint pinky blush crossing his cheeks. You forced your eyes away, determined not to be distracted.
"Jimin, Namjoon's gonna flip about the shirt."
"No he won't-"
"Yes, he will-"
"Ah, can we just sit?."
You huff, weighing his words before silently nodding, moving forward slowly to give him time to get his brain in gear. He stepped behind you and you shuffled around so that you wouldn't be sat under him.
"Okay sit." You order, and to your surprise he followed your words. You both crash back into the couch, his arms pressing back against you, his legs spread and pressed against yours.
You sit, the silence stretching. You finally get the smell of his cologne, the silk of his shirt sleeve brushing against your arm. It was filling your senses, and though it had only been seconds, this was stretching for an eternity.
And there were all those emotions you felt towards him, rushing to the surface, bubbling beneath your skin.
"Okay this is dumb, why are we doing this?" You grumble, slamming your head back against the cushions, desperate to be away from his heady scent.
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, so you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze.
"Because we don't want to lose our friends." His voice is low, the cogs turning in his head.
"Yes I know that, but why do we have to 'sort our problems' from inside the same damn t-shirt?" You snap.
"I... don't know. But I'm not gonna lose friends. Them or you - so get used to being stuck in this shirt with me."He purses his lips in thought, but you’re struck by his words.
"Well it's you who's stuck in here with me." You snark, unable to stop yourself before you say it.
He huffs out a laugh through his nose, and you can’t help but smile. You finally meet his eyes, and like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, he snaps his eyes away.
“So we have to like… work on our problems?”
“Apparently.” He murmurs, throwing himself back into the seat.  
The temperature feels ten times hotter than when you weren’t sharing clothing. Your hair sticks to your skin and you shift uncomfortably. Everywhere you touched him felt like it was on fire, every sensor in your body and edge and firing. You force yourself to breathe, in and out. Park Jimin was not going to get the better of you.
But he seemed affected too.
His swallows are thick, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You could see his ringed finger tapping in his leg whilst his other hand was pushing back his hair a little more aggressively than usual.
“So uh…” He starts, but tapers off when you look at him.
“Yeah?”
The seconds tick on, the gap between you non-existent. You avert your eyes and try to focus on the crowd that swirls around you.
You couldn’t help but notice the fact that things were going well. No issues were being resolved per se, but you hadn’t fought properly for a few minutes. And for you both, that was progress. Even if every word that comes to your mind flights away, leaving the silence to stretch.
“Maybe-”
“How about-”
You both blurt words at the same time, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you squarely avoid looking at each other. The music seems louder, making it harder to think about anything that wasn’t directly in your senses. Essentially you were stuck in a Jimin lockdown.
“You go.”
“Oh, I was just going to say I’m gonna need a drink or two for this.” you confess, heat burning across your face.
“That’s… Not a bad idea actually. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Jimin rushes, a little too enthusiastically. It seems like he’s a little on edge too.
Without thinking he tries to stand up, causing you to get ruffled inside the shirt as he staggers to his feet. You’re ripped through the collar of the shirt, your face getting knocked into his hip. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat as he’s slingshotted back into the chair beside you. Your head reemerges through the hole, leaving your hair vigorously disheveled.
“I-, I’m sorry!” He grits, a reddish blush bursting across his cheeks.
You bring up your hand inside the shirt to touch it to your face whilst the other tries to right whatever mess your hair had become.
“It’s fine, just, we gotta move as one.” You mumble, flicking your gaze at him.
“Agh, this isn’t gonna be easy.” He sighs, shuffling to the edge of the chair.
You take a deep breath and follow his lead. You put a tentative hand on the couch to shuffle yourself to the edge, but jimin had the same idea. He puts his hands on top of yours, but instantly snatches it back. He mumbles to himself before turning and giving you a nod. With a steadying breath you both move, almost effortlessly getting off the couch together. It takes you by surprise at how straightforward that was, until the clatter of a noise reaches your ears over the din of the music.
Following the rattle of the noise you look down, only to watch your phone skittering across the floor.
“Oh, shit.” You murmur, watching it stop out of reach. “Jimin, my phone!”
He follows your gaze to where it lays on the floor, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by dancers. Your heart flutters as people step around it, totally unaware.
“Go, go!” He mutters, placing the palm of his hand at the bottom of your back, steering you towards it.
You flush as you’re pushed through, stopping just above it. You’re both jostled by the people around you as you stand guard above your phone. People were dancing dangerously close to it,and all it would take is one drunken fool to stamp on it or you for this to end in disaster.
“Okay let’s drop, carefully this time!” you order, but Jimin scoffs at you.
“I’m trying to be careful!”
“Just don't thrash me about again, that would be nice-”
“I’m not doing it on purpose! I can if you want me to-”
“Oh my god, stop, just bend over and help me!”
“That sounds dirt-”
He starts, but before you let him manifest that in your mind you start to crouch, the force pulling him down to bump his chest into your back. The heat of him crashing into you is instant, an insatiable warmth that spreads in contact. He puts a stabilising hand on your hips as his breath rolls across the back of your neck. A shiver trickles down your body despite trying to hold it back.
“What did you do that for?” He grunts, his mouth closer to your ear as he tries to rebalance himself.
“Y- you’re taking too long trying to argue!”
He presses himself off your back and shuffles down beside you. You finally get crouched on the floor, tentative hands placed on the sticky surface to stop you from toppling over. Jimin crouches next to you, his body facing yours with his leg behind you, tight against your back. It was hard to stay focused with him pressed against you like that, but you know he was just trying to stay stable. So why were you blushing so hard?
Carefully you reach out, your fingers just brushing the edge of the phone. You’re just able to get your fingers over the edge when you’re slammed from the side. Your phone is knocked out of your reach once more as you’re thrown onto Jimin, both of you landing in a tangled heap.
You let out a yelp as you’re falling, the impact to the side of you bristling with shock. His back hits the floor and you land awkwardly, right on top of him.
“Watch what you’re doing, you moron!” Jimin snaps after your head slaps onto his shoulder.
Your heart slams erratically against your chest, his words stinging. You’d come to blows many more times than you can imagine, but he’d never spoken to you in that way, not ever.
“God, I’m sorry.” you murmur, pressing yourself up off his chest, your face practically aflame.
“What? Oh, no no, not you! Whichever idiot smacked into you. Are you alright?“ He asks, his fingers gently gripping your chin and turning you gently in his hands.
Your eyes are wide as he stares at you, your fingers twitching on the silk covering his chest. Once he’s satisfied that you’re okay, he softly releases you. You bring your gaze back to his, beads of sweat rolling down your face.
Jimin looks down to his hand and back up to you after realising what he had just done, before he clenches his fist closed and puts it down to his side. His forehead is creased, his face burning bright.
“We should… ah, should get your phone.” His voice is low, barely audible above the music. But you hear him all the same, stealing your hand back from his chest.
You swallow thickly, stabilizing yourself as you crouched back on your own two feet. Your phone isn’t too far out of reach, but just beyond the touch of your fingertips. You strain, tugging Jimin along behind you. His throat is pulled against your shoulder, but it was no good, you still needed the stretch.
“Hold on.” You mumble, slipping your head out from underneath the collar.
You keep your arm inside the shirt sleeve for plausible deniability - you’d never be able to lie to Namjoon if he asks if you stayed in. But you pull your head out from the bottom of the shirt and reach out, gripping your phone and snatching it up. You shove it in your deepest pocket of your jeans and pat it, relieved.
You crawl back to Jimin and try to climb back into the shirt. He throws the bottom over your head and you push it through - only to slam your head into his arm.
“Ah, sorry!” You yelp, trying to push yourself past him.
He tries to guide your head back up through the collar but manages to get his rings caught in your hair. You yelp at the tug, your hands flying up to untangle him.
“Sorry, sorry!” He shouts, bringing his other hands up to slide his rings off altogether.
Once they’re off his fingers it’s easier to free your hair. With the rings tucked safely in his pocket and with gentle easing, Jimin moves your head up to the collar of the shirt. You rapidly brush your hair out of your face and look at him out of the corner of your eye.
He’s flustered, roughly pushing the hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead back. His lips are parted and his eyes are fixed away from you.
Briefly, the thought of just running away from him crossed your mind. There’d be no more issues if you never saw his face again. No more embarrassment! Of course it was a silly idea, but it would be better than getting the opportunity to make yourself look like an idiot again.
You huff out a breath, blotting your damp forehead with the back of your hand. Your brush with the floor had left your clothes feeling sticky, and your brush against Jimin had set everything else on fire. You needed some fresh ai-
“It’s too hot for this, I need some air.” Jimin shifts in his spot, gesturing to the backdoor that was through the kitchen and blocked by a thick group of party goers. You follow the direction he points and nod enthusiastically.
“I wanna grab some water too.” You murmur. Ignoring his presence.
The people that stood between the cloying heat that you and Jimin were trapped in and the cooler climate outside were dense. You’d have to fight through, but the reward of fresher air to clear your head of Jimin was too tantalising.
With a look at Jimin, he motions with his hand for you to proceed. You roll your eyes at the gesture but you take a cautious step forward, slow and deliberate.
You started pushing your way through, bodies warm and fluid as you tried to champion the way. Jimin got ganged much closer to you, practically pressing into your back as you moved. You focus on finding a path ahead, ignoring the beads of sweat that form in your hairline.
Something had changed between you. This is the closest you had been together, the most you had touched, the longest you had been alone. And you wanted to hate it. You certainly hated how messy he must think you are. But you didn’t. A trickle of something different slides down your body, all your attention focused on his hand on you.
The music changes to something even louder and riles the crowd up. With a swell of movements in the dancers you’re sent flying, knocked by some erratic dancer’s elbow. With the force of the shirt Jimin is dragged with you, crashing into your back and pinballing you against another person.
Subconsciously you turn back to him - but as soon as you’re pressed together, you realise how big a mistake that was.
Stomach to stomach, his face is barely an inch or two from yours. His fingers wrap around your wrist, chest rising and falling as you stare at him.
The sweat that had rolled down his face had reached his throat, dropping down the column and hovering at his apple. The minutest of smirks pulls at his lips, and you realise you’ve been caught.  
He swallows, purposely. The bead rolls the rest of the way down his throat, dropping below his necklace before disappearing down the neckline of his shirt. The silk was clinging to his skin in the heat, and it took every ounce of dignity you had not to look down. You could see in your periphery, and that was more than enough. The man was hot, in every sense.
Your eyes flick back up, a different kind of heat burning up your face. You anxiously lick your lips, eyes finally meeting his. He has an eyebrow propped, a smugness radiating that let your blood boil. But his gaze drops to your mouth, watching your tongue gloss across your lip before looking back up. You can feel his breath hit your chest as his cheeks flushed more than they ever had. Now you were the one to have an audience.
Maybe this was it - the answer. You just needed a moment for everything to click, you could reach an understanding! It had nothing to do with how his stare left you feeling like you could burst in every way possible. Or that his pupils seemed to be blown wide, big enough for you to swim in. His fingers were hot against your wrist, and it felt almost as if his pinky was tracing the tiniest circles into your skin-
“I need the bathroom.”
The words are blurted loudly in your face, and for a moment you forget what reality is.
“I- what?”
“Bathroom. Gotta go. Bathroom stuff.” Jimin splutters.
Before you can respond - not that you knew how to -  he turns from you. His hand still holds your wrist as he pulls you through the crowd, uncaring as to who he pushes aside. All you can do is stare at the back of his hair and be lead.
“Jimin what the hell?!” You yell, ignoring the glares of the nosy partiers.
Your voice is lost, muffled by loud music and Jimin's deaf focus. You finally break free from the throng of people but your journey doesn't end. You're being whipped past busy rooms until you hit the staircase. The odd person watches you in fascination, some even snickering at what was written so plainly in glitter on the shirt. you felt your face burn, and make a silent note to fight Namjoon at the soonest opportunity.
He begins scurrying up the staircase, and with your wrist still firmly in his iron grip, you're soon flying up behind him. He casts a shifty look behind him to check you were still attached, his face flushed but his eyes focused. You have to remember to regulate your breathing.
"God, careful!" You snap, almost stumbling on the top step.
He doesn't acknowledge that he hears you, but then he slows for a second before darting down the winding corridor. He rushes into one of the rooms, a sprawling guest bedroom, before finally letting your wrist drop from his grip. It was almost bigger than your entire place, with an ensuite and even a door leading out to a balcony.
You close the door behind you before Jimin drags you towards the ensuite. Once he's at the open door he pulls his arms through the sleeve and slips out from the shirt. You know you're in the privacy of a bedroom but you suddenly get nervous, eyes turning to the bedroom door.
"We're gonna get in trouble." You murmur. Namjoon is a mind reader, you’d stake your life on it - he'll know you're separated and find you.
"You gotta relax. We're not gonna be spotted through floors and walls. Unless you wanna come in here with me?" He asks, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. Your stomach flutters, but it is a relief to have a flash of the jimin who pushes your buttons back.
"I -wha- no! Just hurry up, god." You splutter, turning your back to him.
"I won't be long."
With that he saunters back, his cheeks blown out as he sighs, and finally closes the door for some sweet separation. You step back and move to the balcony - the door was unlocked so you push it open and finally breathe.
The air is still warm, but instant relief from being cooped up inside with Jimin washes over you. You close your eyes and soak up the moment of peace, the shirt hanging off your solitary frame.
Your brain was barely processing the situation you were both in. It was enough being stuck in the same item of clothing as someone, but with Jimin? It was hard.
But then again, it was also easy. It was too easy to get wrapped up in him, to be so close, to let yourself be taken with him. It was a place you had hoped to be before, and somewhere you couldn’t go.
You and Jimin were tumultuous. You weren’t sure why it had to be that way. It’s not like either of you were toxic or nasty people - so why did you have to make a stand on everything? Why does every time you stand off with him make the hairs on your neck stand up, make your heart beat so fast in your chest you swear he could hear it?
Maybe it was because you did, after all this time, like him.  
You're snapped out of your thoughts by an erratic knocking at the door. You dart your eyes to it as if you could see through the solid wood, your heart in your throat.
"Y/N? Jimin? You there?" Namjoon calls through the door, and you swear under your breath.
"One second!" You cry, scrambling back from the door and scurry to the ensuite.
"Jimin! Open up!" You whisper at him, your voice a hurried rasp.
"What?"
"I'm coming in!" You wait a few seconds just in case, and then finally throw the door open.
"Y?N!" Jimin yells, scrambling back against the basin.
He was standing with his silk shirt in his hands, His lips parted in shock as he stares at you. His chest was heaving, the faintest glimmer of abs visible behind the thin fabric. Your face was burning almost as much as his, your jaw dropping. His hair was tousled, strands covering his wide eyes as he stared at you.
"Wh... Why are you topless?" Your breath is barely above a whisper as you fight to keep your eyes on his face.
"It's so hot!”
“I’m hot! Do you see me taking my clothes off?” You rush, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not lick your lips.
The thought of you and Jimin taking your clothes off together flashed through your mind and you internally screamed at yourself. This was not the time to unpack that, though you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before.
“Wah- uh, you... I was trying to cool dow- why are you barging in here?!" He rushes, taking a hasty step towards you. To have to sort through your frazzled thoughts before you remember why you were there in the first place.
"Namjoon! He's at the door!" As if to accentuate your point, Namjoon raps on the door again, calling out to you both.
"Agh!" Jimin cries, rushing forward and grabbing the hem of the shirt you still wore.
He begins to get into it as he pushes you towards the door. You could feel the horror fill your veins as the heat of his body slips in beside you, his hand at the small of your back as he guides you. Your arm brushes against his bare hip, the skin hot and smooth. You snatch your arm up and hold it against your chest as if burned and ignore the rapid change in your breathing.
"Why haven't you put your shirt on?!" You whisper, but he just huffs.
"To save time, Now show me your pretty smile and let's get rid of him so I can get dressed." Jimin's hand is on the door, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wild.
"My wha-"
The door flies open, but you're still staring at Jimin. Pretty...?
"Well hello." Namjoon is leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he gives you both a crooked grin. His eyes flicker to the room behind you, his eyes landing on the bed just beyond you both.
"Just needed the bathroom." Jimin rushes, hand once again settling in his hair.
"I didn't ask." His voice is light, but his eyes are fierce as he scans you both thoroughly.
"You were thinking about it, though." Jimin mutters. He tries to cross his arms at Namjoon, but with one arm under the shirt and one over he soon drops it. Your gaze was still stuck on him though. Pretty?
"How's the shirt working out, you both talking?" Namjoon asks, and you finally snap your attention to him. He's already watching you and raises an eyebrow. You scramble to stamp down your emotions, despite every nerve in your body sizzling.
"Oh yeah, we’re the best of friends now, right JimJam?" Your voice is bubblegum sweet, giving Jimin the goofiest smile you could muster.
"Totally! We've been braiding our hair and sharing juicy stories. We're basically besties."
Jimin beams at Namjoon, before stepping close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you. It was all part of the charade, of course. But as you're pulled back against his chest, you swear your heart could explode. His hand sits lightly on your hip, his every breath rolling down your neck. It didn’t matter that the move was practically hidden under the shirt.
"Yeah..." you laugh, but it's more of a choke as you pat his hand over the shirt and avoid meeting Namjoon's probing gaze.
Jimin clears his throat awkwardly behind you, his finger twitching on your hip. The heat between you swealters, every inch of your skin electric against his body.
Namjoon's eyes flick between you. You could see his thoughts brewing but they never pass his lips. Instead you and Jimin wait, his hands singeing your skin where they rested, his bare chest like fire against you.
"Well, I can see you're obviously working on something. But until you're actually convincing, you can stay in that shirt." He shrugs, grin widening across his face. With a final flick of his eyes, he pushes off the door frame and heads back towards the stairs.
"This is ridiculous Namjoon!" You yell at his back, crossing your arms across your stomach.
"Maybe - but you're both still wearing it." He smirks back over his shoulder.
You yell incoherent words at his back before huffing out a breath. Your fingers twitch in anger, putting a stubborn hand on your hip, the skin hot under your touch.
Faintly you realise the contact isn’t registering on your hip, and it isn’t until Jimin loosens his grip on you that you realise your hand had been resting on his. His hands fall from your body as he shuffles away, swallowing a throaty gulp.
You couldn’t look at him. It was all fun and games to begin with- oh, who were you kidding? This had been sucky, but something had shifted. You needed air, a chance to breathe, to not be tethered to the man that seems to haunt you.
“Need air.” Your voice a rasp as you step back into the room.
Jimin barely shuts the bedroom door before you’re marching to the balcony, not caring about whether you drag him along or not. Once you’re outside you heave in a breath, letting the air fill your lungs.
“That was too close.” You murmur, fiddling with the hem of the shirt.
“How was I supposed to know Namjoon would be keeping tabs?”
“I’m not blaming you Jimin! Why are you making this into an argument too?” You snap, your eyes fixed on the treeline on the edge of the property.
You feel him wriggling aggressively next to you, only to look back and see him climbing out of the shirt. You watch in horror as he slips out from under the sickly yellow material, keeping his bare back to you.
“What are you doing?” You yelp, scanning over the edge of the balcony for any sight of your friends. They couldn’t see you apart, they would never trust either of you again.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re meant to be working this out from inside the same ugly shirt-”
“No not right now. I mean, kind of. I just… Why did we let it get this far?”
You let his words hang in the air, your thoughts scattered. The thump of the music below drifts up to you, the mass of partygoers that stood out in the gardens laughing and chatting loudly. It seemed a world away from the tension that fills the air between you and Jimin.
He turns back to you with a look on his face so intense you can’t place it. But you could tell he was tightly wound - his shoulders were squared and his jaw was tight. He avoids making eye contact with you for as long as he can. But when he finally does, it was too easy to get lost in what you see there.
“We just argue, I guess.” you shrug, averting your eyes from his chest and stomach. This wasn’t the time to be fawning over him. It was hard - he was beautiful, there was no escape from that. It’s one of a million reasons you had liked him in the first place.
“You can't tell me you’re happy with that explanation.” He huffs, crossing his arms.
“Of course I’m not but what do you want me to say? You don’t like me, you’ve made that plain enough. Not everyone gets along.”
You bite your lip, admitting the words you’d been too scared to think out loud. But when you hear a faint gasp, your eyes shoot up to his face. His lips are parted, a look of abject shock written on his delicate features.
I d- I do like you.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him. But you do, and the words strike deep.
You can’t open yourself up to this right now. Namjoon will find a way to know that you’re both separated, and the rest of the guys will drift away. You want to be civil with Jimin, not have your entire soul bared open to him. You couldn’t survive that.
“Can you please put your shirt back on?” You mumble, your eyes laser-focused imploringly on his face, but he doesn't hear you, barrelling on.
“It’s not like I enjoy arguing with you!”
“Then why are you making it so difficult?” Your voice cracks, the hurt of your never ending battles threatening to surface.
“Do you know how hard it is to get your attention-“ he starts, his fast flow of words immediately cut off as he gawks at you, delicate fingers slamming over his lips.
“What?” You blurt, processing his words.
“No no, nothing! Forget it.” he shakes his hands at you, eyes wide and face blushing a deep pink.
“Jimin! What do you mean, get my attention?”
“I… yeah. We’re always with the guys, I guess I didn’t know how else to get you to focus on me.”
“Why?” Your voice is faint, a million thoughts crashing in your head.
“No, forget it!”
“Jimin!”
“Ah, I like you, okay?”
The air around you thickens, the distance between you a thousand miles yet still too close. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, your eyes wide as saucers and your skin prickled with goosebumps.
“You- huh?”
“I… like you. A lot. It happened pretty quickly.” He sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair.
"Why have you never told me?"
"Because it's humiliating as hell?" He laughs bitterly, his eyes darting to anywhere but you.
"Jimin..."
"No seriously. If I had told you, you'd reject me because why wouldn't you? All we do is argue."
"You think I'd reject you?" You ask, voice quiet as you step closer to him. His gaze finally snaps back to you at your movement.
"I mean, I... yeah?"
He runs a hand roughly over his face, turning his back to you. He looks so flawless in the moonlight. But he always looked flawless to you. Watching him fret like this was something so alien to you, but so human, so Jimin. You couldn’t let him suffer these feelings alone.
"Well, I wouldn't have." You mumble.
“You- what?”
Your brain scrambles, your heart hammering in your throat. He stares at you, wide eyes and chest heaving as if he was winded. Swallowing thickly you press on, despite the fear that churns in your gut.
“I wouldn’t reject you, Jimin. I… uh. I like you too.” You fiddle awkwardly with the hem of the stupid shirt.
The whole scenario had you feeling like a girl going through a childhood crush again. Though last time you had a crush on a boy who was fighting with you, you punched him in the nose. It was doubtful that would work this time around-
“Jimin?” You ask, watching as he shrinks back on himself.
You watch as he breathes, his chest rising and falling, the rapidly cooling night air raising goosebumps across his skin. It was hard to keep your brain on track.
After a moment he meets your gaze with a softness so potent it was enough to choke you.
In two steps he was on you, his lips crashing against yours. Your entire body threatens to shut down, the shock rippling through you. Before you even had a second to comprehend how good his lips felt against yours he pulls back, fear in his eyes as he worries.
You know then what you want. Who you want. You wondered why you wasted so long arguing to get it.
With your blood thrashing violently in your veins you reach your hands out to his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek before you surge forwards. The feel of the gloss on his lips smudges as you let yourself be consumed, the slightest hint of cherry seeping in.
Kissing Park Jimin. You. You’re kissing him. Your eyes slam shut as you sink into him, electricity crackling on your skin.
With no doubt in his mind at all Jimin slides his hands to your hips, fingers curling into the shirt as he moves you back, pushing you into the wall. You moan into his kiss, and he smirks against your lips. To trip him up you press the kiss deeper, letting the tip of your tongue dance at his pretty lips, wanting to taste him.
He does you one better, turning the tides and pressing the kiss back to you, tongue flicking to you.
Just like normal, you weren’t one to back down from Jimin.
Letting a hand move into his silken hair, you brush it back the way you’d seen him do a thousand times. But instead of letting your hands fall out of the soft locks, you let the strands wind around your fingers and give it a tug.
Jimin lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss to pant against your lips. Pride flows through you, but so did a sense of admiration - it was something you wanted to hear from that pretty mouth over and over.
“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N.” He whispers, tugging sharply on the shirt so that your body was flat against his.
You try to not let the gasp from you come out too loud, the lines of his body startlingly apparent as you’re pressed together.
“You think that scares me?”
At your words he smiles. It spreads slowly, but soon his whole face is alight, brightness shining out of him. With his fingers at the hem of the massive shirt, he gives you a filthy giggle before kneeling and slipping himself inside of the material.
“What are you doing?” You yelp, feeling the familiar sensation of being stuck in the stupid shirt with him again. But it was different too, it wasn’t suffocating like before.
His head popped back up through the ripped collar, grin still annoyingly plastered across his face.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to get me out of this shirt, Park Jimin?” You whisper, breathless as he presses you back against the wall.
“I can’t deny that you have too many clothes on.” He smirks, delicate fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your hot skin. “But there’s something… ah, satisfying about having you in this shirt.”
“Seriously?”
“What’s the matter Y/N, don’t think you can handle it?” His fingers circle agonisingly slow on your hips, a mischievous glint catching in his eye. He knows you so well.
“You’re gonna be the one who can’t handle it.”
“Prove it.”
You almost growl at him as he presses your buttons, but the burning in you meets the heat in your stomach. You need him more than ever.
You pull him back against you by the hair, crushing your lips together once more. He moans into you, nails pressing into your hips as your lips collide. You roll your hips against him, the fire in your veins white hot as he stutters against you. He breaks your kiss to gasp needily, eyes shut tight as your stomach brushes against the bulge in his tight jeans.
His eyes finally open, unfocused and swimming. But after a second he fixes his gaze on you, determined. A flicker of anticipation fills you, awaiting retribution.
His fingers move from your skin to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until you have to help him. The shirt you were sharing was making it difficult, and you start to regret ever letting him get his way. But as soon as you are free he presses back into you, his hot skin flush against yours, his fingers idly tracing the straps of your bra.
Just with the gentle brush of his fingertips he nudges the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising along his trail. He presses his lips to your cheek, pecking slow, soft kisses across your cheekbone as he moves towards your ear. You sigh as his mouth moves lower, plump lips pressing dainty kisses down your neck. With you swept up, his hands move behind you and unclip your bra.
A gasp passes your lips while his own are still planted at your neck, sucking on a soft spot there. Your bra slides off your body, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony.
His fingers find their way back to your hips, slowly caressing their way up. An excited shiver catches you, and you feel him laugh against your skin. His warm hands find your breasts, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin before finding your nipples.
You suck in a breath as he kisses back up your neck. He pauses to capture your lips again, lulling you into him as his thumbs brush out across your nipples.
With your staccato breathing he smirks once more into your skin. Not one to ever be outmanoeuvred by Jimin, you decide it’s time to flip the switch.
You purposefully run your fingers down his stomach, featherlight and teasing. He hitches his breath, mouth detaching from your neck as he waits, anticipating your every move. His hot breath rolls down your neck, rippling off your chest. You hide a smirk in his hair and focus on your goal.
Letting your fingers rest on his belt buckle - no doubt something obnoxiously expensive - you begin to undo him as slow as you possibly could. You slide it off, inching it so little that you could feel him get restless against you.
“You’re a nightmare.” He whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes.
“I’m just savouring the moment.” You offer softly, the soft clinks of the buckle resting against his thigh.
“You’ll pay if you tease me like this.” His voice is high, airy. The voice of a man in complete control - though you knew that was far from the truth.
“Mm, sure Jimin.” You smirk, bringing a hand up between you to his face.
You angle him back up to kiss you, which he does with ferocity. You smile into him, the power to provoke him rich in your veins.
Your hand sinks back to his belt, and with him distracted you pull it off him fast, dumping it somewhere on the floor and popping the button of his jeans. He gasps into your kiss, fingers automatically flexing across your breasts. You hold your reaction to yourself, intent on giving nothing away until you are ready.
You tug down his zipper, pressing it back onto him so he feels the teeth unclipping against his boxers. You knew they were gonna be some annoyingly expensive brand too, but the thought of getting him to ruin them for you was intoxicating. He leans his forehead against yours, the desperation rising his face palpable.
With a sharp tug you drop his jeans to his mid-thigh before moving your fingers back to him, running teasingly around his waistband. You didn’t have to look under the shirt to know his boxers were tented, his erection straining against the fabric. You dip a finger just below his waistband, tracing along the lines of his hips. He lets out a choked breath, hips subconsciously bucking into you.
“Y/N…”
“What?” You ask sweetly, moving your fingers to brush along his pubic bone. Your knuckles barely graze the base of his shaft, but he lets out a murmur of swear words as his eyes flicker.
Not one to be overshadowed for long, Jimin lets his hands drop to your hips and immediately flies to your zipper. He presses his crotch into you, and you feel just how hard he is for you. With a flapping mouth you watch him, challenging eyebrow raised.
Everything was a game. One that you were intent on winning.
Plucking at your courage, you slide a hand back down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. His hips stutter in your hand, a gush of air forcing out of his lungs.
He felt good in your hand - really good. Firm skin, warm and pulsing in your hand. You experimentally ran a finger along his underside, tracing the vein all the way to his tip. He lets himself go then, head thrown back, eyes tightly clasped. A low groan rumbles from his throat, his fingers stilling on your zip.
“Feel good?” You whisper, pressing your lips to his.
“Ah, mm…” Is all he can manage as his head falls back.
He’s totally lost in your touch, and you’d barely started. A ripple of excitement darts through you, the sight of having Park Jimin needy and in your hands was too powerful to overlook.
A small giggle falls from your lips, the tiniest of noises. But it’s enough to spur him back to reality with his dark eyes finally refocusing on you.
He takes a breath to center himself before pulling down your jeans slowly. You feel the material slide over your hips and sit above your knees. Your panties quickly follow, thrust down faster than you can blink.
He lets a hand drag back up your thigh, running across to where you want his hand the most. Your touch on him falters as anticipation runs through your body. Ever so slowly he lets a finger stroke across your slit, barely grazing your skin. You wrap your free arm over his shoulder, taking a grip of his soft hair.
He smiles at you, and you let your eyes drag across his face. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at your scrutiny. You can’t help but admire him: the way his lipgloss is smudged up across his cupid’s bow, the sweat that seemed to be dribbling so aesthetically down his sharp jaw, the blown out pupils of his deep eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you soak him in - and that’s when he decides to strike.
He slips his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you are for him, before sliding his fingers up to your clit. He applies only the slightest bit of pressure but it’s enough to have you gasping at his touch. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you, letting his fingers move in the tiniest circles.
You slowly rock your hips on his fingers, knotting your own in his hair. You instinctively flex your hand only to have his hips instinctively thrust his cock into your hand.
Deciding to move things on just a little, you move back just enough to see his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter open at your movements, only to blow wide when he sees a trail of spit drop from your lips onto his tip. You catch it with your thumb and rub it into his tip, rolling it down his length.
A low moan leaves him, his free hand coming up to wipe your bottom lip ever so delicately. You meet his eyes, a fire burning there just for you. He drags you into a kiss, his hand scrunching in your hair.
His hand start to move again, circling you and getting into a slow rhythm on your clit. You moan into his kiss, starting your movements too until both of you were breathless messes.
The kisses became scattered and sloppier as you both let your hands work. The delicate touch of his fingers was enough to blur your vision, and your firm grip that was growing in speed on his length rendered him weak in your hands.
His own hand moves deftly, nimble fingers moving between circling your needy clit to running through your wetness. His jaw slackens each time he feels how wet you are for him, pride drifting somewhere in his lust-blown eyes.
Jimin is slick under your grasp, rock hard as you twist up and down his length. Staggered gasps fall from his lips, getting more and more careless as you drag him higher.
His circling gets a little more pressure, and it’s enough to send your head lulling back, barely able to focus on the task literally in hand. You returned his zeal, putting an extra squeeze on his length. The choke that passes his lips sends pride through your already thrashing veins. His face twitches; his forehead creases, pretty lips part slightly further, eyebrows jolt. You know he’s close, and you have the power in your hands.
But he has you, too. The pressure pulsing from your core builds, your eyes slamming shut as you're barely able to form words. You can feel it rising, teetering on the edge of something good-
-until he jerks his fingers from you. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, orgasms skittering disappointingly away from you. Your eyes open as you snap your bereft gaze to him.
“Fuck, Y/N, too quick-“ he murmurs, grabbing hold of your wrist and gently pulling your hand of his throbbing cock.
“Jimin?”
He’s fully flushed, strands of silken hair stuck to his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his chest, eyes wild.
“I don’t wanna cum just yet.”
“What if I wanted you to-“
“Don’t argue with me on this,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. But then his voice drops low, lips pulled into a deadly smirk. “I have to make you cum first.”
You barely have a second to swallow down a gasp before you’re pulled from the wall to crash against his lips.
You hold him against you with the collar of the shirt you were still trapped in, matching his energy as he kisses you desperately. Your hands are held tight against his chest, his cock resting teasingly against your stomach.
His hands let go of you to grab your hips, steering your towards the edge of the balcony.
Once you're spun he pushes you gently, bending you over to lean against the railing. Forgetting that you’re stuck in the same damn shirt, he gets yanked down with you, body flush against your back. He lets out a tiny giggle into the back of your neck and it’s as if your heart could stop from the sound.
The cool of the metal railing presses into your chest, hands bracing it through the shirt. You look to the party happening below, guests hovering out in the garden to escape the heat of the sweaty party. You were pretty well out of sight - as long as nobody looked up.
“There’s quite a few people down there.” Jimin’s lips are by your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.
“Don’t think you can make me loud enough? That’s a shame.” You smirk, unable to stop teasing him.
“You’re gonna regret those words baby.”
The pet name strikes deep within you. It’s perfect coming from Jimin, warmth radiating across your body. And you couldn’t blame that one on the heat.
Jimin presses his body onto your back, thick erection settling just above your cheeks. You feel the heat of his hand smooth from your thigh round to the front of you. He takes a few swipes across your clit to make you jerk beneath him before his fingers drift further back.
He swirls a finger around your waiting hole, agonizingly slow. You gasp at him, pushing your hips back into him. His shaft brushes against your cheeks and you can hear him suck in a desperate breath. Spurred on by his own need, he dips his finger gradually inside.
It’s slow, pushing past his knuckle until his finger sits inside you. You feel your walls pulse around him, desperate for more. His hand stills, taking his time to pepper kisses behind your ear. He nips playfully at your lobe, taking his sweet time with each movement.
You know he’s doing it to make you suffer. And god were you suffering, using every ounce of restraint to not whine for him.
Slowly he turns his finger so it sits better inside of you. The graze of his knuckle causes you to moan, and you feel him smirk into your skin.
“That’s what I was waiting for.”
He slowly begins to pump into you. It’s instantly better than his stationary finger, but still agonizingly slow. You needed him, harder and faster.
“Jimin…” you whine, pushing your rear back into him. He tuts into your ear, stilling his fingers.
“You need to let go, Y/N. I’ve got you.” He punctuates his point by kissing a trail along your shoulder.
You bite your lip, his words hitting a little deeper than just him getting you off. You always had to be in control of yourself around Jimin - you had to win, had to be alert. You couldn’t let your emotions get hold of you.
But it was all out in the open now. He knew how you felt - and he feels the same too. Maybe you can let go, just a little. It didn’t mean you had to start losing arguments any time soon, though.
You nod, turning your head to where he was pressing kisses into your skin. He beams at you, eyes scrunching as he surges up to catch your lips.
His movements cause his thumb to brush across your clit, and you moan wantonly into him. He pulls away to peer over the balcony, the loud noise escaping you both. You follow his gaze, but you’d drawn no attention. Not yet anyway-
He looks back at you and winks, the move cheeky and completely Jimin but he silences by pulling his finger almost completely out of you. Your jaw drops at the sensation, but just as quickly he pushes it back inside you, as far as he can go.
You bite the collar of the shirt to muffle your noise. His skin was still hot against yours, a sheen of sweat building on your forehead as you focused on him.
Mercifully he begins to fuck his finger in you, curling inside you. You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes shut tight as you let yourself go.
He carries on for a few more pups before he lets a second finger coat in your wetness. On the next thrust into you, he gently presses in a second finger, and you feel yourself clamp down at the stretch. Jimin keeps pressing kisses against your skin, but he gets breathless, his own erection pressing tauntingly at your back.
He sits his fingers for just a few seconds, letting you get used to him before he works them back out of you. In and out, in and out. He’s slow again, teasing you to the point of madness. You groan in frustration, but it was just what he was waiting for.
He thrusts his fingers deep into you, fucking you fast. Your hips roll to meet his pumps, the drag of him inside you delicious.
He brings up two fingers to your lips, and instinctively you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. You make sure to meet his eye as you run your tip up the crack between his fingers, eliciting a groan from him and a buck of his hips against you.
He pulls them from your mouth and moves them between your legs. His fingers find your clit, and to match the rhythm that he was fingering into you, he begins to circle your needy bud.
It pushes you over the edge, almost literally. You cling onto the balcony as you’re thrust into it, Jimin sucking marks into your neck. You groan, the contact all over your body making you weak. The wet noises that surround you are pure sin, making you bite down on your lip. Jimin groans into your skin, teeth sinking softly into your shoulder as his fingers work fast.
“Fuck!” You yelp as his fingers brush your soft spot inside.
You slap a hand over your mouth as you stare down into the garden below, fear icy in your veins as you hope you’re not spotted.
Jimin doesn’t stop though. He hides his head in your neck, thrusting his fingers faster now that he knows your weak spot.
A few people below scan around them for the source of the swearing, but thankfully none of them think to look up. You bite your lip, eyes closing as you let yourself fall back into Jimin.
“That was a close one, huh?” He whispers, a lilt of a giggle in his voice.
“Shut up.” You murmur, voice cracking as he circles your clit so well you almost see stars.
“That’s no way to talk to the man who’s got two fingers deep in your-“
“Fuck, Jimin please!” You gasp, his next words dancing at the front of your mind.
The circles on your clit get defter, pressure hitting you just right as your hips start to roll uncontrollably. You grip tightly at the railing, unable to stop the flow of moans that echo from you. Being spotted from below is less important as you can feel your orgasm rising, your legs feeling weak underneath you.
Your skin prickles from the heat generating between your bodies, Jimin’s hot breath rolling across your neck as you flush harder.
“I’m gonna...” you whimper, your words lost to pleasure.
“Cum baby, all over my fingers.” His whisper sends shivers through you, a welcome change to the heat that dribbles down your temples.
He curls his fingers on every thrust to bring you closer to the precipice. You push back against him furiously, riding his fingers and your knuckles turn white on the railings. You feel it coil in your stomach, and you know you’re so close.
“Let go Y/N.” He whispers, breath ragged from exertion, but still peppering your marked skin with tiny kisses. You screw your eyes shut as you embody his words, letting yourself give in to the feeling.
“Jimin!”
Your orgasm crashes around you, a litany of swear words moan from your lips. Your walls clench down on Jimin’s fingers, twitching under his fingertips. You slam your hand over your mouth as your moans subside, wide eyes scanning the crowd below.
Heads turn in your direction, and before you can begin to scramble Jimin pulls you back from the balcony to stand flush against him. Your heart pounds in your chest, but the thrill that runs through your veins is undeniable.
He finally pulls his fingers out of you, the gush of wetness and noise make your face heat up. He wraps that arm across your chest and holds you against him, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes. You kiss him, soft and delicate, plump lips locking with yours.
Once you pull back he grins again, before moving the fingers that were in you towards his lips. your mouth parts as you watch him slip the digits inside, taking his time to suck off the taste of you. A light whimper leaves you as you watch him finally slide them out from between your lips with a pop, devilish glint in his eye.
Witha shiver you turn in his grip, pushing him firmly back against the wall.
He hisses lightly as his back hits it, and hisses louder as you're bungied in the shirt against him. He lets out a laugh and you do the same as you right yourself. But you can't keep yourself away from him as your lips are on his again. You flick your tongue at his, the taste of you on him.
“Wanna be inside you...” he whispers between kisses, his hot fingers idling their way up and down your sides. You groan at his words, nodding dreamily at him.
“God, yes please.” you sigh, feeling his lips trace kisses along your jaw.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles against your skin, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you both.
He pushes you back against the wall, the bite of the wood pressing into your skin.
“I’ve never heard you so passive.” He laughs, thumb and finger coming up to gently grip your chin. You grin at him, a flutter in your stomach.
“Don’t get used to it Park Jimin.”
He tips his head back to laugh, a pinky flush hot on his cheeks. All you can do is watch in awe, soak him in as he glows in the moonlight. But then he looks back down at you with the stars in his eyes and you realise that, yes - this is what you had wanted all along.
You bring his lips crashing back down to yours, letting your fingers knot in his dark hair and you touch him, drink him in. The silken strands flit through your fingers, and you idly think to yourself about him running his own hands through it. You can see why he does it now.
His thumb strokes across your chin, gently pulling your face from his. You open your eyes to look at him, the flush on his face even brighter.
“Ready?”
“Give it your best shot.” you smile, peppering his jaw with kisses.
You’re stopped in your tracks when he hoists one of your legs over his hip, a teasing eyebrow raised at you. Not to be bested, you hook your leg over his ass and pull him against you. You feel his erection sit against your stomach, hard and leaking onto your skin.
He takes hold of himself and strokes across your wet slit, coating himself. A withered sigh escapes your lips as you watch his frown deepen. His face contorts as he concentrates, teasing himself just as much as he was you. You lean forward to let a trail of spit fall from your lips and drip down onto him, coating his cock even more. You don’t know what possessed you to do it again, but the way he stuttered in a gasp made it well worth it.
Then with an agonisingly slow pace, he begins to press himself just inside you. Your mind clears, all that you can see and feel is Jimin. You had waited long enough.
A wimpery sigh strangles from you, Jimin pressing against your walls until he is fully seated in you. He was so warm, stretching you in all the right places, as close to you as he could physically be.
You give him an encouraging squeeze with your leg. He takes the hint and slowly starts to pull out of you, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he looks down to watch himself pull out of you. The drag of him is good, too good, as you let a warble of noises fall out of your mouth. He doesn't seem to mind though, his focus transfixed elsewhere.
"Jimin..." you whisper, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly begins to reach a rhythm.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, any mischievous glint in him gone. He was a man on a mission now, aiming to make you feel as good as possible. You could feel that in every stroke, the way he let you feel the length of him drag almost fully out before he pushes back inside you.
You start to roll your hips back at him, determined to not let him have all the fun. The tentative thrust of your hips had his head snap up to you, a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. You try to play it off coolly - another attempt to throw him off his game - but he squeezes your ass cheeks and holds himself deep in you, and your resolve melts away.
"Don't start something you can't finish." He smirks, and despite the need to fight him bubbling in you, you tip your head back and laugh.
"I guess that applies to both of us." You smile, pressing forward to kiss his lips softly. "Now fuck me Park Jimin, or we're really gonna have a fight on our hands."
He laughs against your lips, a gentle bubble that rises from his chest. But he takes on your words, pressing you hardest against the wall and hiking your leg higher.
He only goes slow for a few thrusts, getting a feel for you before he decides to ramp it up further. 'Typical Jimin' seems to float through your head, but you just grip him tighter, moving to meet his thrusts. You wanted to savour how full he made you feel for as long as possible.
His speed picks up, a hand moving to the underside of your raised legs and digs in deep. You let your own hands slide to his hair, keeping hold of the soft locks as he starts to hit harder inside you.
The sound of your skin making contact seems to echo loudly, and you barely spare a thought to people below working out what the noise was. You didn't care if they heard any more.
It was so hot inside the shirt together, and you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your chin and down your neck. This definitely wasn't helping the heat problem at all, but there was nothing on earth that would make you stop. ��The edges of Jimin's hair were getting damper, and with every tug of his hair he let his head fall back into your touch. His throat was bared to you, salty beads dribbling down his hot skin.
You murmur a series of curses as you watched him, the thrum of him being underneath you almost unbelievable.
But then he pulls out a power move.
With fast thrusts he rolls his hips, his cock dragging almost perfectly across your soft spot inside, and all your senses seem to leave you. He repeatedly manages to hit your spot and you are sure he is planning to end you, it was the only way to explain it. Death by good dick, you could see it now.
"Fuck fuck fuck." you repeat like a mantra, The wet slaps that echoes just adding to the sensation.
"Wanna turn you." He mutters breathlessly, and a part of you is glad he's also feeling so affected.
You can't seem to vocalise an answer so you nod emphatically, unhitching your leg from its vice-like grip around him. He pulls out of you and you almost complain, but then his hands are on your hips.
He spins you and presses you against the wall, lifting your leg up and lining himself back inside you again. You're practically dripping for him, so it doesn't take much for him to push back inside. You push your ass back into his thrusts making his movements stutter, and with a playful squeeze he whines behind you.
A small smirk picks up on your lips as you roll your hips back at him, starting him out of his stupor and back to where you need him.
He pounds his hips into you and you have to steady yourself against the wall. The shirt bunches awkwardly, caught in your grip as the rough wood of the wall digs into your skin. Jimin presses his front against your back, the hotness of his skin pricking against your own.
An arm slides around your waist, guiding you, holding you steady as he ferociously fucks into you. His other arm settles across your chest, his fingers clenching across your collarbone. His mouth is by your ear, ragged breaths blowing across the taut collar of the shirt and hitting the warmth of your body.
“Y/N.” Jimin groans, the lilt in his voice uneven as his hips crash into yours.
Your entire body was tingling, the pleasure from your core and the bite of the wall against your bare skin a fight for your senses. You could feel perspiration form on your forehead making your hair stick to you awkwardly but it didn't matter.
Jimin filled you in every way. The hot touch from his fingertips on your waist and across your chest, the heat of his stomach at the base of your back, the soft moans that he sings by your ears.
"That's it, baby." He groans, his fingers curling onto your skin.
The hand that he has sat on your waist slinks across your stomach to reach between your legs, letting his fingers circle your throbbing clit. The pressure makes your eyes slam shut, letting your head fall back onto Jimin's shoulder behind you.
A small single laugh falls from his lips, but your inevitable clench off your walls around him cuts it short. He thrusts a little harder, rocking you against the wall. You have to brace yourself as he fills you repeatedly, his athletic hips working overtime.
The hand that has been pressed to your chest finds its way to your throat, holding just below your jaw. You let out a moan as you cover his hand with yours, pressing his fingers into your throat.
"Shit..." He gasps, his hips stuttering.
"I bet you've been wanting to strangle me for ages." You rush, voice cracking as he circles your clit a little harder.
"Only when I've thought about fucking you."
The moan that leaves you is barely human. In fact, you were barely human any more. you were turning to putty on his cock and under his fingers. It wasn't going to be long until you reached your peak.
His fingers press into your throat under your guidance, the delicious bite making your vision slowly pool. You gasp, shivers tingling down your body. He lets up his grip a little to let your blood flow one more, your body practically vibrating from stimulation.
"Close, Jimin..." you whine, rocking your ass back into him.
"Let loose for me, Y/N." He whispers, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.
He lets out one last surge of energy, fucking into you and rubbing your clit with a renewed vigour. you throw yourself back at him without care, chasing the high he was leading to you.
With a few more pumps and circles on your clit, you come undone.
Your body pulses on him, clenching down hard as your orgasm crashes through you. Your fingernails dig into his hand and the wall, a strangled cry of his name bursting from you. You cum hard on him, helping him finally reach his peak too - you could tell by the way his hips stuttered, the way he throbbed inside you.
"Cum, Jimin." you whimper, rocking your throbbing core on him.
He doesn't hold back, pumping a few stuttery thrusts into you as he cums. He fills you, gasping against your ear as your walls milk him dry. He thrusts until he can’t anymore, slowing his hips as the fullness inside of you trickles out past his length.
Both of your movements slowly lull to a stop. Jimin holds your body close against him, ragged breath hot against your ear. Your skin is prickled from the heat but you nestle into him anyway.
He finally pulls his softening length from inside you, a small dribble of your combined juices trickle down causing shivers to cover your body.
Turning your head you smile at him, slightly out of breath and dewy. The sight of him is godly: Messy hair sticking to his damp forehead, a pretty red blush spreading across his cheeks, plushy lips parted and sucking in breaths. He smirks back, a lazy grin growing. He moves closer and kisses you, gentle brushes of his lips against yours.
His hand that sat on your throat moved to stroke your cheek, and you let your hands thread in his hair as your kiss trails off into small pecks.
The air is different around you. It’s still hot, swirling close and untempered. But there’s something else too - a coolness, an understanding. A person behind the battle lines. Someone you could lean on, and someone who could keep up with you in an argument.
You pull back from him and look at him, his eyes slightly starry and his lips swollen from all they had been doing. With a soft smile you rub your thumb across his cupid’s bow, wiping off the last of his lipgloss.
“We should probably go downstairs, right? We don’t want Namjoon sticking that long neck of his out here.” Jimin whispers, his eyes finally focusing on you.
You nod, but not before pressing one last soft kiss to his lips. Now you’ve started, there was nothing in the world that could stop you from peppering him.
“Yeah.” You sigh, voice cracking slightly.
But neither of you move, both unwilling to be the first to break apart.
“I don’t want to leave here either.” He smirks, but it’s softer. Not the smirk he throws out to purposely disarm you, though it still has that effect on you.
“Where do we go from here though?”
“I guess we’ll have to work that out. Maybe we can discuss it if you let me take you out tomorrow?” He asks, eyes darting over your face for an answer.
Excitement crackles through you, electricity rippling through your head to the end of your fingertips. A smile rises on your face, and you can see the relief flow through Jimin.
“I’d love to.”
“Perfect. Now, let’s go and rub in the guy’s faces how well we’re getting on.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling.
He kisses you one last time, hard and fast, satiated for now. With that you finally separate, Pulling your clothes back on before facing each other again.
The shirt felt big now. Too big.
You couldn’t get close enough to him. You both head for the door when you feel Jimin’s fingers interlock with yours. Your entire body flushes as you open the door to the bedroom, the wall of heat from the house hitting you both.
You’re both undeterred though, determined to find your friends. You pull him down the stairs, not caring at who stares at you both in the sickly shirt. The house felt hotter, a visible mist descending over the sea of people.
You find them where they last left you, congregating around the couch. When you stop in front of them with Jimin in tow, they all take it upon themselves to scrutinise you. It was quiet for a long while, and you could feel your resolve buckling. You didn’t want them to see through you, see what happened. But you wanted them to know that things would be okay. For all of you.
You can only imagine how you looked. Out of breath and flustered, both of your hair messy and fully damp. They couldn’t see your hands knotted together inside the shirt, but they didn’t need to. The demeanor change between you both must have been glaringly obvious.
“How’s it going?” Namjoon asks, glaring between you.
“Good, we, uh. We’re getting on. Yeah.” you smile awkwardly, completely lost on why you were being so suspicious. You had more guts than that!
“That was smooth.” Jimin grins. He was worlds away from you, utterly content and calm.
“Oh my god, shut up.” You roll your eyes, but give his hands an extra squeeze under the shirt.
“Where have you guys been? I haven’t seen you all night.” Jungkook asks with wide innocent eyes, and for a moment you feel like if he knew what had just been happening he would have been tainted.
“Oh, just… exploring.” Jimin smirks, and you fight the urge to pinch him. Who knew this would go to his head?
Well, you knew. You shouldn’t be surprised at all.
“About time.” Jin sighs, eyes still glued to his phone. The others laugh and throw in their agreements.
“What?” you and Jimin both yell, eyes scanning your ‘friends’ suspiciously.
“We knew you both liked each other. It got a bit weird towards the end there but we knew you’d work it out - or Namjoon would.” Hoseok shrugs, but his face is bright as he grins at you both.
“The shirt was a bit of a, well… drastic option.” Namjoon's smile was crooked, but his eyes were bright as he grinned at you.
“Oh… I don’t know what to say.” You murmur, heat creeping across your face again.
Jimin, however, throws his head back and laughs, slapping a hand on his chest for good measure. You stare up at him in shock, but you can’t help the smile that grows on your face. He was infectious. And your friends understood. You feel a tightness unfurl in your stomach.
“Well, it worked out. It worked out really well. I mean just so so good-”
“Jimin, shut up!”  You gasp, eyes wide as he winks at Namjoon.
Well, it’s good to know that the fire is still there between you. He was still impossibly infuriating and unendingly Jimin - but it was all for you. And it was only the start.
“Sorry baby.” He whispers as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. You flush at the move in front of the others, but easily melt into his side. You had been waiting for this, after all.
“I’m glad.” smiles Namjoon, warm eyes flicking over you both in the stained and rumpled ugly item of clothing. “Maybe we should burn the shirt, though. Just for hygienic reasons.”
1K notes · View notes
Text
REFLECTIONS Answer the following questions:
What is the single best thing that happened in the past year?
2015:  The beginning of the fall semester when I grew a lot more confidence
2016: Studied abroad
2017: Graduated
2018: Moved into the B Flat
2019: Got a boyfriend
2020: Got a car
2021: Got my vaccine
2022: Went to the premiere of Good Night Oppy which I worked on
2023: Went to the Taylor Swift Eras Tour concert
2. What is the most challenging thing that happened to you in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23?
2015: Getting over Marble maybe
2016: Getting over Hawaii
2017: Making my 4500 film
2018: The music videos I did
2019: Deciding whether to date my now boyfriend
2020: The entire pandemic
2021: Still the fucking pandemic
2022: Trying to figure out my future with my boyfriend
2023: Dealing with Captain's wedding
3. What thing did you learn the most from this year?
2015: Hawaii and Marble
2016: My film class
2017: Also my film class
2018: My film jobs and internships
2019: Starting a relationship
2020: I guess the pandemic
2021: The Nasa footage (or google)
2022: My job
2023: My friends or social media
4. What is the kindest thing you did this year?
2015:  I don’t think I’m the one to ask, you’d have to ask people who perceived kindness
2016: Same
2017: Same
2018: Same
2019: Same
2020: Wore a mask
2021: Got a vaccine (though it was mutually beneficial)
2022: Helped my parents with stuff? Helped my friends move?
2023: Didn't say anything stupid to Captain
5. Did you lose any close family member this year?
2015: Nope
2016: No
2017: No
2018: My great aunt died
2019: No close ones, but my grandma’s dementia is getting so bad she doesn’t remember who I am
2020: No
2021: No but my grandma is pretty far gone
2022: No
2023: My grandma
6. Pick three words to describe 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23.
2015: A learning experience
2016: Single, senior, band
2017: Senior to graduate
2018: Almost an adult
2019: Another year older
2020: Covid, long, stagnant
2021: Covid, jobs, vaccine
2022: Friends, film, trips
2023: Taylor Swift, DnD
7. What did you do in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 that you never did before?
2015: Got further than I ever had in my love life
2016: Studied abroad
2017: Moved into a house with roommates
2018: Moved in with male roommates, did an internship
2019: Got a boyfriend
2020: Bought a car
2021: Got a job in my field
2022: Went to a premiere of a movie I worked on
2023: Spent Christmas with my boyfriend's family
8. Did you keep last year’s resolutions? What were they?
2015: Here we go. Put one happy moment from each day into a jar: YES. Go to the gym regularly: Doing better but still could use improvement. Get a summer job: Yes. Make an effort to eat breakfast: Haha nope. Make an effort to look pretty: About the same as last year. Talk to people more and appear more confident: Yes. Find things to be excited about: Not as much as I want. Find a boyfriend: NOPE. Write more: Not really. Read more: Maybe a little. Have adventures: Some, but not as much as I would like. Initiate things: Yes. Use “I” more: Yes. Be less mean to myself: Yes. Overthink less: No, still working on that. Be proud of myself for trying my best but accept not being perfect: I guess. Take responsibility: More. Be positive and enthusiastic: Still working on it. Carpe diem: Not enough.
2016: I can’t remember lol
2017: I can’t remember what I wrote. Here’s what I’ll do: write my 2018 resolutions so that when I reblog this next year I will know:
2018: Be more adventurous: Maybe? Overthink and strategize less: HA not really. Get a film job: Yes. Eat more vegetables: Maybe a little but still not enough. Go to the gym, like, ever: Yes. Read more: Kinda. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet.
2019: Get a boyfriend: Finally did! Be more spontaneous and adventurous: Kinda? Sometimes? Lose weight and eat better: Nope. Read more books: Nope. Finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Not yet. Learn how to work hard: Not really. Spend more time with my friends: Kinda. Love myself, and be someone I love: Not really. Carpe diem: Sometimes. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Earn more money than I spend: Nope. Travel: Yes. Discover new music: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes. Believe in myself: Not really. Learn to be a leader: Nope. Watch more movies: Some. Think about other people: Tried to. Learn how to make mistakes: Kinda.
2020: Get a new job: No. Lose weight and fit into my dresses again: Noope, the opposite. Read more books: A couple. Spend more time with friends: Haha, nope, although I did zoom with them some. Go on dates: Not really. Keep doing the moment calendar and journal: Yes. Try new creative things: Yes, I tried dice making. Take risks even if they cost money: Yes, again the dice making. Make more money than I spend: Actually yes with the stimulus. Make jewelry: Some, and opened and etsy page. Get back to people in a timely manner: So-so. Be more punctual: Nope. Finish my harry potter spellbook and keep up with my character book: Nope. Learn new things: Not enough. Be the kind of person I wish I could be: No. Be more open to ideas: No. Post more pictures online: No. Don’t be such a control freak: Not even a little bit. Worry less about what people think: Kinda. Laugh more: No.
2021: Get an interesting job: Yes. Get my own apartment: No but I moved in with my boyfriend. Get a covid vaccine: Yes, 3 of them. Lose weight: Lol no. Keep doing my sticky notes and moment calendar: Yes. Be less hard on myself: Kinda. Survive: The year’s not over but yes so far.
2022: Finish moving in: Yes, after a scare with a fire in my neighborhood that prompted me to finally get all my stuff together. Get back to normal: Covid wise, yes, for the most part. Lose weight: Not really. Do more crafts: I think so. Read more books: A couple but not as many as I wanted to. Do well at my job: Yes. Hang out with my friends more: Yes. DM a short campaign: No. Keep doing my sticky notes and journal: Yes.
2023: Keep doing my sticky notes and journal: Yes, the one I always achieve. Actually lose weight: No. Stick to my dice workout rewards program: I did do them but not as consistently as I wanted to. Finally finish my Harry Potter spellbook: Finally did!. Be on time for work: Nope. Cut out the time I waste getting ready for bed: Nope. Do more creative projects: Sorta, I can't remember how it compared but I did some!. Read more books: Yes. Make the Detroit: Become Human jacket: Yes. Spend time with my friends: Yes. DM a one-shot: No. Make friends at work: Sorta but not ones I can really hang out with. Clean the apartment: No. Save a decent amount of money: The opposite. 
2024 resolutions: Continue doing the daily moment calendar and question journal. Read more books. Complete at least 3 dice workout challenges. Get in shape before I'm 30. Make friends at work. Run a DnD one-shot. Put more effort into my appearance. Save money. Be more confident. Make a renaissance festival costume. Find some healthy meals that are easy and good enough to make regularly. Clean the apartment. Be more social. Try out for a musical. Be a better girlfriend and friend. Be more punctual.
9. Did you travel to any interesting places in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23?
2015: Went to Las Vegas for my birthday and California with the band and Kentucky to see Paul McCartney.
2016: Went to Italy, went on band trips to California and Texas
2017: Went to London with my mom, went to New Orleans for my cousin’s wedding and hooked up with my 6th grade crush, went to Wyoming for the solar eclipse
2018: Went to Las Vegas for a film shoot
2019: Went to Israel
2020: Went to Harry Potter World in Orlando with my boyfriend
2021: Nothing too exciting but went to Colorado Springs for thanksgiving
2022: Made up for some lost time with trips to St. Louis, Chicago, San Francisco, and New York
2023: Spent last New Years in Breckenridge, went to las Vegas with my friends from band, visited my boyfriend's family in Chicago
10. What would you like to have in 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24 that you lacked in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23?
2015: A BOYFRIEND HAHAHA
2016: Still a boyfriend lmao fml
2017: Still a boyfriend but one that I feel satisfied with. I’m not sure if I’m there with Guacamole. Also he’s not even my boyfriend yet
2018: Still a boyfriend lmao
2019: An interesting job (finally got the boyfriend!)
2020: A job, an apartment, and a vaccine
2021: A fucking break from this damn pandemic
2022: Clarity
2023: Clarity, a better body, confidence
11. Do you even believe in new year’s resolutions? Why or why not?
2015: I think they are a good idea, for reflection as much as goals.
2016: Maybe. Idk
2017: Yeah it’s a good idea
2018: It’s always good to try to better yourself and it gives you motivation to do it
2019: It’s a good idea for goals
2020: It’s good to make goals and remind yourself what to work on
2021: Yeah it’s a good idea
2022: It’s good to make goals
2023: I believe in making goals and I like traditions
12. Do you believe that 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 had an reoccurring theme for you? If so, which theme and why?
2015: No more than any other year really
2016: More like my entire life has a recurring theme of being single af
2017: Not really
2018: Boys I like having girlfriends
2019: Macy’s
2020: Covid
2021: Still covid
2022: Making up for lost time in the pandemic
2023: Taylor Swift
13. Do you feel like 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 went by too fast?
2015: No
2016: It went a little fast, especially now that I’m about to graduate
2017: Not really
2018: Not really, but maybe my youth went too fast
2019: It went by too fast for how much I accomplished
2020: It went by way too slow
2021: No but my youth is going by too fast
2022: I think it went a normal speed but yes my youth is going by too fast
2023: Yeah, it went by fast without accomplishing much and now I'm almost 30 and not ready
14. Did you fall in love with any new artists during the year 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23? List them.
2015: I fell back in love with Taylor Swift
2016: Collabro
2017: Anastasia the Musical cast, and Hamilton is growing on me
2018: A bunch of musicals
2019: My musicals playlist on spotify has Rent, Dear Evan Hansen, Legally Blonde, Galavant, Hamilton, A Star Is Born, Frozen 2
2020: Fell more in love with taylor Swift, and Come From Away
2021: Olivia Rodrigo
2022: Jake Wesley Rogers
2023: Ghost
15. Brag about two of your accomplishments in 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23.
2015: I made a couple cool music videos, and I lost some weight after increasing my gym attendance.
2016: I made a short film, Pancakes, with a full crew. I got straight A’s in the spring.
2017: I graduated and I made another short film
2018: I worked on two film shoots and I got promoted at work
2019: I stayed in touch with friends I made on a film shoot, and I got a boyfriend
2020: Bought a car and was the costume designer for a TV pilot
2021: Got a temporary job on a documentary, got a full-time job in my field
2022: Had a movie I worked on premiere, got a friend group
2023: Made Connor's jacket from Detroit: Become Human, finally finished my Harry Potter spellbook
16. What was your favorite movie that came out this year?
2015: The Martian
2016: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
2017: Coco
2018: A Star Is Born
2019: Rocketman
2020: None of them were really memorable
2021: Again there were none that memorable
2022: Good Night Oppy
2023: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes or Dungeons and Dragons
17. Fill in the blank: In 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24 I will ____________.
2015: Get the confidence back that I had in the fall
2016: Graduate college
2017: Start looking for film jobs
2018: Find myself
2019: Find a new job
2020: Survive, please
2021: Rebuild
2022: Lose weight, finally finish the Harry Potter Spellbook
2023: Lose weight
18. If you could fly anywhere in the world in 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24, where would you go?
2015: Italy, and I plan to!
2016: London, and I plan to
2017: Scotland or Ireland, and I don’t have any plans to
2018: Maybe that Israel birthright thing
2019: Maybe Ireland or Amsterdam
2020: Wherever has the least amount of covid. Of course that probably means they wouldn’t let me in
2021: An alternate dimension that doesn’t have covid
2022: Maybe Amsterdam, we had planned loosely on that before covid
2023: Somewhere in Europe (but I probably won't until 2025)
19. What was your biggest regret of 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23?
2015: Worrying about the future when I had something good rather than just enjoying it
2016: Not trying enough in making friends and making the most out of it
2017: Maybe not getting quite enough out of college
2018: Forgetting or never quite learning how to work hard. That and not asking a cute guy out in time
2019: Not buying that moonstone necklace
2020: Gaining weight
2021: Maybe being mean to my dad
2022: Being unfair to my boyfriend
2023: Gaining weight and being hurtful to my boyfriend
20. Do you think you’ll be having a better 2016/17/18/19/20/21/22/23 than 2015/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23?
2015: I hope so
2016: I hope so
2017: I hope so
2018: I hope so and I think so
2019: I sure hope so
2020: I fucking hope so
2021: God I fucking hope so
2022: I hope so but I don’t want to get my hopes up too hard
2023: I'm not sure
21. Did you make any new friends this year? Lose any friends?
2015: I got closer with some friends :)
2016: I made some new band and film friends. One of my friends from freshman year died.
2017: I almost lost a friend but now we seem to be friends again. I also made some new ones
2018: I made some new ones, and kinda stopped being friends with some of my old roommates
2019: I think I got closer to some friends
2020: I met a few online playing among us, and I probably lost my roommates
2021: I met a couple people from the film shoots and DnD
2022: I got closer to some friends
2023: I think I made a couple new ones, and I stopped talking to a few
22. What was the biggest adventure of the last year?
2015: Hawaii, I think
2016: Studying abroad
2017: Moving out and starting to adult
2018: The film shoots
2019: Dating my boyfriend
2020: Harry Potter World
2021: Venturing back into the world
2022: Gradually getting back to normal
2023: The Taylor Swift concert
23. Did you get cake on your birthday? Presents? What you wanted?
2015: Yeah I went to Vegas which was cool! Got cake and alcohol and presents
2016: I did not get cake but I got IHOP. I got presents, and the football team won the game that day sending us to the PAC 12 Championship
2017: I got pancakes, presents, and maybe I’m starting to get what I wanted?
2018: I got chocolate mousse and presents and I didn’t even know what I wanted
2019: I got cake and presents including one thing I wanted
2020: I got bundt cake and a few things from my wish list
2021: I got fondue and shopping and presents
2022: I got chocolate fondue and presents
2023: I got fondue the day before and wine-soaked pears the day of, and I got a couple things I had been wanting
24. How much did you change this year? What’s different about you?
2015: Not too much has changed but I think I’m prettier, more confident, braver, and value bravery more.
2016: I’m lazier, gained back the weight that I lost last year, and lost some of the confidence from last year. Wow…
2017: I’m not a student anymore
2018: I maybe lost some of my hope in my love life and felt more set in my ways
2019: I don’t have as much FOMO but I’m also getting more frustrated with my life
2020: Gained weight, got more anxiety
2021: Maybe became more forgiving of myself, started running out of fucks to give, but also still worried about running out of time
2022: Got more relaxed about covid, hung out with friends more
2023: Stopped worrying about money (unwisely), started gaining the FOMO back
CONFESSIONS
Bold the statements that are true (2015) and cross out (2016) and italicize (2017) and I’m running out of formats so CAPS (2018) and *star (2019) and ~tilde (2020) and =equals (2021) and +(2022) and #(2023)
In the year 2015/2016/2017/2018/2019/2020/2021/2022/23 I confess that I….
KISSED SOMEONE I HAVE NEVER KISSED BEFORE. #+=~*DID SOMETHING I REGRET. *Painted a picture. #+*Dyed my hair. Got a new haircut I thought I’d never get before. Wrote a poem. Graduated from High School. Graduated from College. Applied for Graduate School. +RAN A MILE. Ate much healthier. Ended toxic friendships. #+=~*GAINED A NEW FRIEND. Gained a new best friend. *Visited a foreign country. #=~*LIED. #+=~*HAD A FIGHT WITH MY PARENTS. +*HAD A SECRET/KEPT A SECRET. Realized my homosexuality. =~REALIZED MY BISEXUALITY. (OR AT LEAST QUESTIONED IT) Realized my pansexuality. Realized my asexuality. =~*Broke a promise. *Slept under the stars. =~*STAYED UP TILL SUNRISE. ~*PUSHED SOMEONE AWAY. #~*Got in a fight. SLEPT WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER. #+~*ATTENDED A PARTY. Got dumped. Got a new piercing/tattoo. Learned that I wasn’t cis gender. Drank underage/used illegal substances. #+*ATTENDED A CONCERT. #+*ATTENDED A MUSICAL. #+=~*TRAVELED TO ANOTHER CITY. *Broke someone’s heart. *Hiding something from someone. #+=~*MADE SOMEONE’S DAY. Cheated on a test/homework. Physically cheated on my significant other. #+=~*Emotionally cheated on my significant other. ~Quit a job. =GOT A NEW JOB. Learned to hate someone I thought I never would. Learned to be more patient. Saw the supermoon. +~SAW THE METEOR SHOWER.
0 notes
Note
can you do a hc of the bros and would they help mc feel better. like mc is sad and what would the brothers say and do to make them feel better. idk if this has been done so yeah :)
Tumblr media
Lol, let's see if I remember what being sick is like, haven't caught a single cold since the start of the year, and thank fuck for that too-
Also, once again, one more time, third time actually, it's hard to focus things on the MC as I try to make it possible for many to put themselves in the story (I know I have written one on MC liking insects but that was very self indulgent lol)
I will change things up a bit on the request, but if it was with my own MC, she would be fairly practicle, checking up on the brothers, giving them water and asking if they wanted food, even keeping company if not contagious. It will look like she is just being considerate but it actually pains her to see them sick, it's just that she is used to expressing herself in acts of service.
.
When Your Seven Demons Get Sick
.
Warning: a LOT of uncensored swearing
.
Lucifer
We all know this can go two ways: either this piece of shit refuses to acknowledge that he is coughing like a damn nuclear explosion or he responsably takes his work home and refuses to fully rest because he needs to keep and eye on not only his brothers but also on the man child he works under that he somehow has come to fondly call a best friend.
So, yeah, tomato tomato.
His stress is reaching levels higher than celestial realm and he definetelly has been staring at a piece of document for way too long and not making any progress.
You will have to literally german suplex this man into his bed if you want him to get more than 5 seconds of shut eye.
It will take a while for his brain to process that 'oh yeah he can trust you to keep at least 10% of the house intact while he recovers'.
He may be a bit insufferable as he will attempt to work again, but it is a very adorable sight to have him whining, being way too happy at small gestures, and of course, his squishy cheeks as he sleeps soundly.
.
Mammon
As long as he is being dramatic about it, you know he will live.
Though he probably won't realize he even is ferverish until someone points it out that his responses are much slower than normal.
Like, it took him one second too long to screech in terror and start running for his life when he spotted Levi's all nighter dying body crawling out of his bedroom!
And oh yes was he delighted to be deprived of his obligation to go to RAD until he got back to his full health.
Until he was not allowed to not do anything but rest for the entire day that is.
Yes he will be restess and willing to do anything just to be allowed to stand on the front porch for five seconds and yes you will end up threatening to tie him to the bed in a non kinky way and yes you will only be half joking.
Just make sure to keep close attention to his levels of drama so that you can spoil him properly when he truly feels bad.
.
Leviathan
With him it can also go two ways: either he also doesn't fully realize until someone points it out or he will immediatelly let you a "Oh hell no" the moment he gives out a single cough that feels just a little bit out of the ordinary.
How he will take care of himself, if at all, will depend of the situation.
If there is absolutely nothing to lose from being sick other than the hability to breathe through his nose he would definetelly spent the entire recovering process binge watching slice of life animes while laying confortably on his tub.
If he had plans related to the things he is passionate about though?
I wish you luck because he is definetelly not backing down and will consequently make himself even more sick afterwards.
Although the extremelly satisfied expression we wears even when he can barely laugh without having a coughing fit kind of makes it all worthy in the end.
.
Satan
The most chill sick person you will ever encounter and will always make sure to be responsable and nurture himself back to full health.
The catch though?
This big brained idiot definetelly doesn't know how to judge between what is small cold and straight up dying when it's about his own body.
So yes he is the kind of person who will always take some painkillers, drink water, lay on bed and read a book until he falls asleep no matter what the fuck he actually has.
So much for knowledge is power smh.
First off, he deserves to be vibe checked with the thickest medicine book you can find in the cluttered mess he calls a bedroom.
Second off, he is so much more prone to being pissy when he's sick. It's almost funny how fast he goes from :) to >:( in half a second the moment someone who isn't you steps inside his bedroom.
And last but not least, cat videos. No further explanation needed.
.
Asmodeus
Oh someone have pity on this poor baby. He took so much care to not get himself sick and has managed to avoid even the worst of pandemies for centuries! So why now?!
He is basically so desperate to recover to the point he actually makes it take longer due to him stressing things out.
And he feels so sticky, he will basically want to take 5 showers per day.
Also his voice is basically gone?? And that just makes him want to s c r e a m ????
Locks himself inside his bedroom and throws a pity party.
Many of his posts on the media are something like "Oh no! I think I got sick? I am feeling a bit under the weather right now so, will you nurse me back to health~? Pretty please~ ❤" while in real life he is pretty much sneezing and coughing at the same time every 5 minutes.
If you bring him consolation sweets he might cry. Both because you're making him happy and because he is definetelly going to have to lose those extra calories later.
As much as he wants to cuddle he doesn't let you too close in case it's contagious and damn if he isn't rocking the pale skin, runny nose and swollen eyes.
He doesn't agree.
.
Beelzebub
Big boy is definetelly one of the easiest demons to take care of when sick seeing he will to his most to not feel like a chore to you.
Yes he will lie when he feels unwell so that you don't worry.
And that's when you should vibe check him with a spoon.
Like yes you may be getting out of your way to take care of him but no it's no problem at all because yes you love him a lot and would do anything to see him get better and you know he would to the same if not more for you if switched places.
Happiness is the re ocurring 'aah's as you spoon feed your bed ridden man and watching as he keeps on smiling throughout each bite and eats everything like a good boy.
But you can't tell me he doesn't manage to get drunk on cough syrup though.
He is definetelly not as hungry as usual but damn this cough syrup tastes great.
The results are Beel going on a cursed chain of crypid comments in which he makes sure to whisper them in the strangeat ways you could imagine at the most random times always giving a happy smile once he is done.
He apparently doesn't recall any of it the next day-
.
Belphegor
How he reacts to being sick completely depends on who is close enough to hear him whine.
Most of the time, whenever he feels anything out of ordinary, he will immediately text Beel in case this is just one more of their cases of twin-powers.
If he is actually sick though?
He will not stop whining, but then he gives a cute smile when he sees you and even makes a motion closely resembling grabby hands with his fingers as he raises one arm in your direction while saying some shit like "I missed you" when you literally were only gone for exactly 2 minutes to go grab him a cup of water and I think you can understand the power this little of shit has.
Be prepared to roll your eyes so much your eyes will probably start hurting.
The good side though? He is the only brother who listens exactly to what you tell him to do without feeling bad about being a burden. Though it's all because he doesn't wants you to worry about him any further than necessary.
682 notes · View notes
norcula · 3 years
Text
times new roman (daryl dixon x fem!reader)
Tumblr media
Image credit to owners. I made the collage.
Warnings: canon typical language, violence and sexual references, some NSFW elements
A/N: 3 times you and Daryl almost kiss, and the 1 time you do.
Also, I was watching an interview and Norman said Daryl is the kind of character who would cry or lose his shit completely if someone tried to kiss him. So I guess.....this is my interpretation of that? LOL enjoy - EN
was listening to times new roman by sean mcverry
Tagging: @chasingdreamer @fuseburner @elitereid (lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future daryl fics!)
Masterlist
|1|
"Woah."
The word escapes your lips as soon as you see him. Daryl Dixon's wearing a grey vest over a white shirt, black tie and grey slacks. He even put on the black dress shoes. He sees you watching him and gets self-conscious. He joins you as you start walking towards the party. It's a welcoming into the Alexandria community. But it's put everyone on edge. Most of all of you and Daryl. You're both cynical by nature, something that probably united you in the beginning. But you're also both willing to try - especially for the people you care about. Which is why you promised Rick you'd go tonight. He needed you. He needed you both.
"So this is what a shower does, huh?"
He grunts, bumping his shoulders with yours. Daryl looks at you from the corner of his eye, most of his face covered by his long, luscious hair. You're wearing a blue suit, the shirt see-through under it. You kept your boots on but they're clean now, polished.
"Nice suit." He tells you and your face breaks into a smile.
"Thanks! It's got pockets!"
You exclaim. You're not much for shiny trinkets. But something completely unexpected - a button or a book - will make you so excited, he'll roll his eyes. But when you're not looking, like right now, he'll smile - just for a moment, just to himself, trying to let your momentary joy diffuse into him.
When you knock on the door, happy faces greet you. You can feel Daryl stiffen beside you. So you take the lead - putting on a fake smile and nodding. You nod a lot tonight. By the end of it, you're surprised your head hasn't fallen off its axis. Daryl tries for a bit, following you around and grunting from time to time when you introduce him. But for the most part, he's quiet. You feel better with him there though, knowing he has your back. You also feel better knowing there's a gun and a knife within reach. Daryl probably does too.
After an hour, you settle in a quiet corner with plates of food. You surveil the party, eyes scanning for your friends. Most of them are drinking - heavily - and laughing, enjoying themselves. But you can't relax. And neither can Daryl.
"Will you guys relax? You're scaring people."
Rick says, before along. You turn to Daryl. He's still scowling.
"Let's go."
You suggest. He leaves the plates somewhere before rising to his feet. You say your goodbyes. Daryl clasps Rick on the back just as someone asks, "And how long have you been a couple?"
You cringe at the woman's words. Daryl hears her, of course he does. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, he rushes outside.
"We're not." You reply politely, begging Rick with your eyes for help. He sees it, diverts the woman's attention to something else so you can escape. When you do, the night is slightly cooler. You walk to the house and find Daryl's shoes off and his unbuttoned. He lights a cigarette, taking a long drag before handing it to you.
"Don't know how they can just.....pretend things are okay. Like there's not walkers out there. Like we weren't just there a week ago."
You take two drags of the cigarette, blowing smoke out through your nostrils.
"It's easier to forget." You say matter-of-factly. He leans his head against a column on the porch, the soft glow of light illuminating his face. Daryl closes his eyes, licks his lips,
"I can't forget." He says.
"I know." You tell him, walking over to ask for another cigarette. He obliges and takes out his lighter. Sparks fly as his thumb brushes against the metal contraption, sending flames licking the stick between your fingers. Daryl tries to focus on the action. Otherwise, well otherwise, his eyes would settle on your face - on the way your cheeks hollow out, the way your lips purse together, on the way your long eyelashes flicker across your cheekbones.
When you look up, he's staring at you. Instinctively you want to make a joke. It's the easiest way to defuse the tension. But it's like a living, breathing thing between you - growing and growing until it's holding you both captive.
"You good?"
He asks, swallowing thickly. You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. Eventually, you nod. And when you open your eyes, he's looking at you - with such concern, it makes you want to kiss him. But you don't. Instead, in small voice you say,
"Yeah. Completely.....fine."
| 2 |
"Here."
He says, handing you something. It's hard, rectangular. Feels a lot like a notebook, pages fraying at the edges. You look at for a long time before you realise what it is. And you immediately throw yourself against him - body first, arms snaking around his neck. He almost topples backwards, his feet dragging a little. But then he steadies you. Daryl is solid and sturdy, pressed against you. He smells like week old sweat and dirt and walker but you don't care. You bury your face into the crook of his neck.
"Thank you."
The sound of your voice against his skin pulls at strings around his heart. Daryl didn't even know they existed. He found his hand roaming upward, one resting between your shoulder blades, the other at your waist.
When you draw back, he lets go. But he doesn't step away. You peer down, rub your thumb over the worn out copy of Crime and Punishment. It's your favorite book in the whole world. You'd read it with your mother. And when she died, it was the only tangible connection you had left to her.
"I love this book."
"I know." He replies simply - like it's the obvious thing in the world for him to bring it to you in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse.
His hair covers most of his face so you don't know what he's thinking completely when you look up. But Daryl isn't thinking much. He's just savoring the moment - taking in the loopy smile on your face, the way you're shifting from one foot to another excitedly. He knows you can't wait to read it. And something about that, about you, is making him feel so overwhelmed. He's almost overcome with the desire to kiss you. Almost.
When he feels himself leaning, he draws back abruptly. You clear your throat, waving the book in the air. And he smiles - just a little before turning to leave.
| 3 |
You wake up screaming.
Most of the house is empty tonight, socializing or out on runs. So no one noticed - no one but the sole other occupant in the house. He rushes up the stairs, dagger plain in sight, bursting through the door.
"You good?"
You nod, swallowing thickly. You chug down the bottle of water by your bed, trying to calm your pounding heart. Daryl's not convinced. He knows you have nightmares. He does too. But where yours leave you screaming, his makes him freeze. Daryl just lies in his bed at the mercy of his demons.
Still, he doesn't wanna overstep. But he can't just leave you alone either.
"Since I'm already up...."
He says, settling down next to you on the bed. It's small - more twin sized than queen. But he squeezes his wide frame into the space, shoulders and elbows and knees bumping into yours. He's so close you can smell the soap on his skin.
You try to relax, turning on your side. Eventually, you drift into that space between sleep and wake. And that's when you feel it - deft fingers brushing your hair at the temple. At first you think you imagine it. It wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes the loneliness gets so potent, it physically aches. But you're almost certain Daryl is touching you, lulling you to sleep. Eventually, as your sleep deepens, he shifts to his side too. It's much more comfortable this way, he finds - easier to reach your hair too. It's smooth under his fingertips.
Night approaches morning and Daryl drifts off, arm resting around you absentmindedly. When you wake at dawn, that's what you find - the both of you tangled in each other's arms. You're tucked into him protectively, pressed so close you can barely breathe. But it's the first night in a long time you haven't woken up screaming from a nightmare.
Daryl stirs a little, pulling you into him even further. You arch your neck so you can breathe. But your lips are pressed against the corner of his mouth. If you moved by even a centimeter, you could kiss him. You could make what you've wanted to do for a long time. He makes a grumbling noise and you try very hard not to take it as approval.
"Daryl...."
You have to say eventually, feeling a painful strain on the back of your neck. He doesn't hear you. In fact, you have to grab a fistful of his shirt in your hands before he notices. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision. When his eyes settle on you and the state of you both, he's confused.
What the fuck?
But then he feels it. And immediately, he jumps up and grabs his jacket. Your eyes travel to where it's hanging - strategically placed over his crotch.
What the fuck?
"I......uh.....I'll see you later."
Then he rushes off. You're left staring at the ceiling, wondering if you'd just turned Daryl Dixon on. Daryl on the other hand, now locked in a bathroom, knows it was you - this was the effect you had on him. It had happened before. A few times it had happened at very inopportune times. You'd squeeze his upper arm in passing and there he was, in broad fucking daylight, hard as a fucking rock.
"Fucking hell."
He tries to get himself under control. He tries to think of other things - innocent things, things that makes him feel indifferent. But your face intrudes his thoughts. Your lips, your eyes, the curve of your neck. He feels the phantom squeeze of your hand and he's so hard now, it's as actually painful.
So, he does what he has to. He strokes himself until he's cumming hard and fast like a horny teenager. And all the while, he's trying not to think of you.
You on the other hand, are letting yourself think of Daryl. You're thinking of his long hair and the scar on his cheek. You're thinking of his blue eyes and his hot skin. You're thinking of his strong arms, picturing his deft fingers where yours are now - rubbing desperate circles around your clit. You throw your head back on your soft pillow and cum hard, muttering his name like a prayer.
"Fuck."
| 4 |
It feels like it's been years. But Daryl's only been gone a week. His body aches and his stomach growls and he wants nothing more than to sleep. So, when he pulls himself in the direction of your shared house, a spinning figure catches his eyes. At first, he doesn't know what to think. So he just stands there and watches.
The shirt that's usually wrapped around your waist is gone. Your t-shirt is long and oversized, hugging your frame just around the shoulders. You're bouncing around the living room, dancing to a track thumping across the threshold.
His throat goes dry. And even though he knows this is probably a private moment he's interrupted, he can't tear himself away. You smile to yourself, hopping up and down before head banging. Daryl laughs, just a little but fuck, he knows he's in trouble - knows he's completely enamoured by you.
After everything that's happened, he knows he doesn't need a fire that burns. He needs a fire that warms.
He needs a fire like yours.
The last bars of Down on the Road by The Stooges roars through the door as he opens it. You're still dancing, off in your own world. Your hair is a mess. And your feet are dirty. And your jeans are torn. The letter on your shirt have started fraying and peeling off. And yet, Daryl thinks it's the closest he's ever been to heaven.
The song stops and you pant, hand on hip. When you turn around and see him, you go bright red.
"How long....have you been...."
You say breathlessly. Daryl pulls his bow strap closer to his body, letting the corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile.
"Long enough."
"Can you just.....pretend....you never saw this?"
You ask him, embarassed beyond belief.
"Not a chance."
He lowers his crossbow and sits on the couch, taking off his shoes. Then he disappears into the house. He strips all his dirty clothes off and lets the water wash away all the grime and filth in the shower - he rubs soap until his skin is clean again. When he emerges, he sees you sitting on his bed.
"How was it?"
You ask. He knows you're asking about the run. But he really doesn't known how to describe it. He pulls on a pair of trousers under his towel before his fingers hover his open fly.
"Fine."
The zipping sound fills the silent air around you. And you try, you try, very hard not to stare at the motion. But you fail. You fail tragically. Thankfully, Daryl's too busy looking at the floor to notice.
"Do you wanna eat something? I think there's some pizza from last night." you ask, trying to change the track your mind's going down.
"Yeah....that'd be....good."
You nod. Daryl pulls on a loose shirt and follows you downstairs. The house is empty save for the two of you. So he helps himself to a cold slice and settles on the couch again. You watch him eat from the corner of your eyes, trying not to focus on his mouth. You wring your hands out, draw little circles on your skin to distract yourself. But none of it works.
Since that morning after the nightmares, you haven't been able to stop thinking about Daryl. You thought about him too much, actually. You're pretty sure you bumped into someone earlier because you were thinking about him. And you've tried, lord knows you've tried to find something else to focus on - work or strategy or even just another good-looking person.
But none of it worked.
As the days went by, it just progressed to pathetic. And here you are, lusting after a man who's just trying to eat. Daryl doesn't notice your inner turmoil. He keeps thinking, well hoping, that if he keeps his hands and his mouth and his brain occupied with the act of eating, he won't do something else - something else he's been desperately trying not to do.
And you both just sit there in agonizing silence.
The moments tick by but none of you move or say anything. The tension is so thick, it's suffocating. Rick sees you through the window and while he needed to talk to you both, he stops himself. You look like you're about to explode. And Daryl looks like he's going to start crying. It's hilarious and sad and absolutely something Rick does not want to get involved in.
So he stays away. In fact, most people do. Maybe they're too busy or maybe it's because even through a window, the chaos is palpable.
"Daryl......."
You say finally. He licks his fingers. You swallow, completely distracted by the movement. But when he turns to face you, knee pressed to yours, you snap out of it.
"I think we should......uh....talk."
"Bout what?"
"The morning you left."
Oh. OH. Oh no. Oh, fuck! Daryl thinks to himself. He grumbles.
"Listen......I don't want things to be......weird between us."
"Why would they be weird?" he asks.
"Because.....I saw."
Fucking Jesus, he thinks to himself.
"I just don't want you to......I don't......it doesn't....."
"Spit it out." he says.
"It happens to men. It doesn't mean anything." You reply.
Daryl stays quiet. And you're right - it does happen to men. The dick's got a mind of its own sometimes. But that morning, that morning, was not just something that happened.
"And you don't.....you don't have to be embarassed. It's okay......I uh......I get it. And we never even have to talk about it again. In fact, let's not."
Daryl's never seen you talk so much. In fact, he's never seen you so flustered. You wring your fingers out. They feel sweaty and hot and God, you just want the ground to swallow you up. Because if anyone should be embarrassed about that morning, it should be you. You used the thought of your friend to get off. And you liked it. And you did it over and over and over and over again while he was gone.
When the truth was, he could never like you that way. You know Daryl only thinks of you as a friend.
It's quiet again when you get lost in your thoughts. And he desperately wants to say something but he can't come up with the right words. He just doesn't know them. So he says your name.
You turn to look at him and he doesn't know what comes over him but he says,
"It didn't just happen."
"What?"
"It wasn't just.....me being a man."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying.....I.....think about you - that way. Sometimes."
You get so quiet, Daryl thinks you can hear the thudding of his heart. He licks his lips, watches you.
"Say something cause I kinda wanna bury myself alive right now....."
"Wait."
You say, holding up your hand and thinking. You think about what he's saying and what he means. You think about whether it's true or whether he's just fucking with you. But Daryl Dixon doesn't joke - especially not about this shit.
"Can you.......can you just tell me what you mean?"
"I.......I like....you." He confesses all at once. Your heart stops. Not slowly. But like a rocket that's just lost engine power. You fall down to earth and shatter into a million pieces.
Daryl looks scared when you look at him. He looks like he's gonna throw up or cry or both. Part of you thinks it's cute. The other part of you feels exactly the same. It's overwhelming. So overwhelming in fact the only thing you can do is take his hand in yours and lace your fingers together.
He looks at your hands for a long time. And when you reach out and cup his cheek, he almost collapses. He closes his eyes, leans into your touch. His free hand superimposes with yours over his cheek.
"Can I kiss you?" You ask him.
"Fuck yes."
He says, smiling and attacking you with his eager mouth. His lips are soft. Pink. Pressing against yours with fervor. His hands snake into your hair, drawing you closer until you're practically on top of him. And you kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss till your moans are breathless and your touches are desperate.
That's exactly what Rick sees when he passes by again. And his eyes nearly bug out of his face. He chuckles to himself and jumps up to the porch, knocking on the window so loudly, you spring apart from each other. Your eyes find Rick's figure and he gives you both a self satisfied thumbs up.
"Fucking finally!"
"Fuck off, Rick!" You yell at him and he retreats. You pull Daryl towards you again, kissing him until you can't do anything but lie down, tangled with each other. His thumb brushes away the hair by your temple. And you hear his heart against your cheek - thud, thud, thudding, so similar to yours.
"Shoulda done that before."
You laugh.
"Better late than never."
200 notes · View notes