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softichill · 8 months

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The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 3 - The Theater of the Mind

(Once again made with @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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[Click]

[Otto sighs, shifting]

OTTO: Noone vanished last night.

[Another sigh]

OTTO: As she slept, I was monitoring her ultradian sleep cycle. There was no REM/NREM oscillation; instead, involuntary spasms grew progressively worse. [shift] As I was about to wake Noone, her… body… evanesced. For a split instant- then returned, calm as can be.

OTTO: [deep breath, loud exhale] Lacking sleep, I can’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Yet the image of her sheets deflating… is imprinted upon my mind. [Sigh] After yesterday’s session, no less, when she claimed to hear this:

[Click, tape plays]

Recording of NOONE: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then, sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

[Click, tape stops]

OTTO: A coincidence? [light clinking of ceramic/glass] Or, synchronicity? …(Scoff) Is that that bloody moth again?!

[Loud smack, Otto sits back down]

OTTO: Riddle piles upon riddle, and answers continue to elude. [Tape rewinding] I’ll sift through every word if I must.

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Loud clicking and clacking, electric humming, Otto screwing something in]

OTTO: [Humming drops, returns] It’s clear. Noone’s symptoms go beyond parasomnias. [Continuing to build] Her retellings are too detailed, vocabulary too advanced, as if derived from the oneiric itself.

[Humming raises in pitch, clicking]

OTTO: However, what I find impossible to believe is that Noone’s seen who you saw, Cici. [Chair creaks, clattering] If two people, without any contact, shared the exact same observation, is it proof of transpersonal dreaming?

[Otto’s building continues]

OTTO: But such implies concurrence! And these dreams are years apart! Then… no. [buzzing picks up] I cannot be taken to metaphysical backwaters. Sounding like my old professor. [building] I’ve remained balanced over the years by clinging to the notion that my recollection of what happened years ago was wrong. [click, humming gets loud again] But now, those memories are coming home to roost.

[Clicks, electronic humming, building stops]

OTTO: [Shift] Before I began at the CPI I promised to finish this apparatus. I let it fall away, convinced that attempting it was fool’s work. Now struggling to put myself in her shoes, well. Fool me twice.

[Humming gets louder, buzzes out completely as it shocks Otto and he lets out an “Oh!”]

[A small pained noise from Otto before he starts to put the apparatus away]

[Door opens]

OTTO: (Gasp) Noone! [Scoff, he walks away from the recorder] You’re meant to wait outside.

NOONE: (Far away) What are you working on?-

[Audio cuts]

[Click, blank noise]

[Audio starts again]

OTTO: We’ve come to know each other better over the past weeks, haven’t we?

NOONE: Because we’re friends! That’s why. And, friends tell each other things.

OTTO: Friends. That’s right. One of the absolutes I’ve come to realize is that, the more time you spend with someone, the harder it becomes to hide who you really are. The only exception to this rule is with the company of oneself- we willfully hide what we’d rather not face. Like, the Candleman you mentioned seeing, under hypnosis.

NOONE: I don’t like that.

OTTO: What?

NOONE: Hiding things from myself.

OTTO: Nobody likes it. That’s why it’s important to reveal your inner face. “Depth analysis”, we call it. And so, I’d like you to think of this session as a dialogue with your unconscious mind- you are asking the questions, not me.

NOONE: …Asking myself questions?

OTTO: I’ll help! But, as you go, I’d like you to try. So! This… Candleman. Did you see him again?

NOONE: I-I did.

OTTO: And what was this meeting like?

NOONE: …He was much clearer. Not just him, everything about it. My nightmare.

OTTO: Elaborate, please. Was it worse? More vivid?

NOONE: What’s it like- Uhm… as if I’m watching a film, that I’m also the star of. And when I woke… it was here, in the Coppy, that felt more like the dream.

OTTO: Hm, more palpable. The Candleman-

NOONE: I can’t talk about him without the rest. …If this is an interview with myself, might I begin where I want?

OTTO: Of course! Let your imagination run. But don’t be afraid to interact with the dream. This is an important step in our process- the dialogue. Bring together the divided parts of yourself.

NOONE: …The mirror.

OTTO: Pardon?

NOONE: The one off your shelf. If I’m meant to speak to myself, well…

OTTO: [Pause] …Patients aren’t meant to have mirrors, but, here you are, my bright girl.

[Otto gives her the mirror]

OTTO: Begin as you please.

[Pause]

NOONE, Narrating: …In the dark… a hand let go of mine.

[Slip noise, Dream!Noone gasps. Dream ambience begins.]

NOONE: Opening my eyes, I lay on hot concrete, staring up at a sky with- no sun. And… before me was, endless grey, broken by- yellow lines of paint, all the way to the horizon!

NOONE: Standing, in that carpark, I heard a silence. So silent, my own heartbeat was a marching drum in comparison. …It was followed by… a loneliness, so lonely, I could hardly bear it. I had to turn away.

[Dream!Noone walking on gravel]

NOONE: Behind me, I was glad to see a building! A shopping mall, so large I- I felt half my normal size. Its doors opened, [sliding gravel] and I ran to them.

[running footsteps, transition from gravel to tile. Doors close behind Dream!Noone.]

NOONE: Inside the promenade, [lights click on] the lights flicked on, one by one, greeting me as the PA speakers came alive with music.

[Tinny, slightly off-sounding mall music]

NOONE: It had been ages since I’d visited a shopping center. I didn’t know where to start!

OTTO: You saw no need to find an exit right away?

NOONE: I felt like I was in good hands. But many shops were closed, though. There were no doors, and… no displays in the windows. Or, there must have been a private entrance, because- I could see shadows beyond the glass.

NOONE: …A-after passing by several shops this way, I grew disappointed, but that’s when… a cowboy’s voice came over the speaker.

COWBOY, slightly overlapped with Noone: “Sale at Jujube’s Toys! Dolls, games, puzzles, and more! Ground floor by the fountain!”

NOONE: I could see that fountain in front of me! And on the other side, was… a bright green storefront, with bubbles floating out the entrance.

[Dream!Noone walking over, doors hiss as they open. Different tinny music.]

NOONE: Shelves and- shelves of wonders lined the shop! The toys on the first shelf were very old, but… deeper shelves held the same toys I had back home, and deeper ones held exactly those I’d wish for, even Little Lotty Potty! But… these Lotties had black eyes, not blue. And their skin was… yellow, like autumn leaves.

NOONE: The shop owner wasn’t present, so… I grabbed one and began playing on the carpet.

[Dream!Noone humming Six’s Theme. Doll makes automated noises.]

NOONE: But, it didn’t take long for me to grow… bored. That was the first time I… I felt too old for dolls.

OTTO: (distant-sounding) Maturity is natural as you approach adolescence. The brain loses interest in things once held dear.

NOONE: The idea of growing up made me sad. And as if reacting… Lotty’s dress became wet. The doll was doing as its name said, but… [doll chattering] the liquid was- dark and thick. I put her down to find something else. But the choices were almost too many! Towering shelves extending deep in- the gloom of the impossibly long shop!

NOONE: I settled on the games section, but, most were meant for two. Suddenly, a staticky whisper said,

Voice, overlapping with NOONE: “I’ll play with you.”

NOONE: I-I thought it was the shopkeeper, but… nobody was around. My eyes fell upon a jewelry-making kit, with a red necklace on the cover. I took the box back to where I left Lotty, only… she was gone. The shelf above, where the other dolls had been, was completely empty too. I wanted to make the jewelry, I really did, but… I felt weird, so… I put it down. Then, the PA crackled, a woman’s voice this time:

Voice, ov. NOONE: “Jujube’s Toys is now closing.”

NOONE: [Lights clicking off] The lights shut off, bubbles stopped… and, the last thing I saw before exiting… [toy train noises] was the train set crashing to a stop. [quiet fake bell ringing, toy engine stops]

[Dream!Noone walking out of the store]

NOONE: The promenade was empty, still. Each step [steps become echoey] echoed across the walls and floors, which were- pearl white, and had patterns like… veins.

[steps and music continues]

NOONE: I came to three sets of stairs, side-by-side, leading to the next floor. I chose one, and, reaching to the top, I saw another open shop. Mademoiselle’s… (saying it wrong) bijottery.

OTTO: (still distant) Bijouterie. But, regardless- you could read this?

NOONE: Yes. The letters were quite big.

OTTO: …Have you been able to read in your dreams before?

NOONE: I’m not sure. That’s not a question I would ask myself, though, Otto.

OTTO: Apologies.

NOONE, Narrating: The glass case in the center of the room… pulled me in. Full of… gold, and silver necklaces. Hanging in the middle, was… an enchanting red pendant. And before you ask, yes, it was just like on the box at the toy store. T-The PA came on again,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: “A free gift to all little girls 10 and under!”

NOONE: Without asking, I put the necklace on, glowing, like a ruby teardrop. With my gift, I set to leave, but… someone must’ve left the speaker on because… I heard arguing.

NOONE: (overlapping) “Don’t overdo it!” Said a first voice, followed by a second, (overlapping) “One more prize can’t hurt!”

[something being set down, wheels across tile, whoosh]

NOONE: From the back room, a rack of dresses rolled out. All, exactly my size.

[Dream!Noone looking through the dresses]

NOONE: It’d been ages since I’d been allowed to pick out my own dress. The telly people chose them for me. These ones were very pretty, with lace and, and bows and stitching but, one… it… it was the plaid dress I wore the day I arrived at the Coppy. How could my dress be here? [lowering pitch of voice, asking questions to herself] Your real life doesn’t have to mix into your dreams Noone, why now?

OTTO, interrupting narration: (astonished) Pardon?

NOONE: (giggling) I’m asking myself questions. Well, the only explanation is that they could see inside my head.

OTTO: I’m not sure that’s logical.

NOONE: Let me finish! Please. You’ll see.

NOONE, narrating: Back out on the promenade, the shop gates began to slam shut. [Gates slamming] I was worried the mall was closing, but on the floor above, a set of spinning bright lights came on [Lights turn on]. The music stopped and, the PA crackled with a sing-songy voice,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: [music] “Showtime’s patrons! Our daily motion picture will begin shortly. Hot popcorn’s popping and the seats await in the playhouse!”

NOONE: [Lights shutting off] The rest of the mall went dark, making the lights more enticing to follow.

[Dream!Noone walks across the mall]

NOONE: The lobby was- red from floor to ceiling. Buckets of popcorn overflowed on the concession stand. I grabbed one, and hurried to push open the huge golden doors leading into the theater.

[Running steps, doors creak. Slightly off organ music plays.]

NOONE: The velvet seats went for rows and rows, full of people. A spotlight hit the stage, illuminating an organ, but… there was no organ player. Only tall curtains swaying in some breeze. I tiptoed down the aisle, and sat centered with the screen. The chair seemed to hug me, and the room fell dark [crunching] as the first buttery bit hit my tongue.

[Music stops playing, sounds of projector booting up]

NOONE: Without adverts or introduction, the film began. Images of… trees on fire and… white hooves galloping. I recognized the picture instantly because I’ve seen it a hundred times. “The Healing Horn”. [Movie plays] Only the scenes were out of order, and the unicorn… her horn was misshapen, like… a rotten tree branch. The evil prince’s face, too, was… was wrong.

NOONE: Feeling out of place I – I looked around. The audience, I… I realized, was not people but… mannequins.

NOONE: All of a sudden, a familiar scent entered the dream. Ocean. I was no longer alone. The dusty projector light made it difficult to suss, but a few seats over… was the Candleman. His eyes and mouth were… deep black pits inside a mess like a wet gunny sack, sagging down the floor. Without turning, he spoke.

[Growing noise stops]

OTTO, interrupting abruptly: He – what?! [Shifting] What did he say?

NOONE: [Sighing] It was like a – a voice underwater. The words could hardly escape the folds of skin. He repeated them to me.

NOONE as the FERRYMAN, glitching: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

OTTO: And then? [shifting in the chair] What else?

NOONE, as the FERRYMAN: “Here. Here. Here.”

NOONE: He just repeated over and over.

OTTO: There must be more! Try, try! Interact with the dream!

NOONE: There was no more!

OTTO: (raising his voice) Ask who he is, ask what he wants!

NOONE: (raising her voice) It doesn’t work that way!

OTTO: You were right there! Don’t tell me you did nothing?! Not a damn thing!

NOONE: Stop!

OTTO: [farther away] I’m beginning to doubt you’ve seen this Candleman! [Noone struggling] Perhaps you’ve invented the whole story!

NOONE: Please, stop- my head!

[Otto hisses (gets hit?), sounds of something being knocked over, Noone runs out of the room.]

[Otto huffs and stops the tape]

[Click. Blank noise. Another click]

[Various shifting noises. Silence. Door opens and someone walks, then closes it]

OTTO: [far away, stern] What are you doing? With the mirror. [Steps] You’re up to something, but we’ll let it slide. I know girls like you.

[Shifting]

OTTO: You’re upset with me, aren’t you? [plastic clacking] Here. A pill for your headache. (Sigh) Earlier, that was… awfully…[Otto sits] that- that was not how friends act. Sleep has evaded me too. I’ve grown worried, trying to… please, forgive me. I’d very much like to hear the rest. I won’t interrupt, you have my word.

[Silence.]

NOONE: … Fine.

OTTO: So… you were in this theater with him.

NOONE, narrating: … All kinds of pictured* flashed on the screen, and then he was gone, leaving me alone again. Or so I thought. The projector flickered in the booth. I dashed up, and found the door ajar. A new voice came over the PA, angry. “No patrons in the projection room!” The door was stuck, but I pushed and pushed. The PA boomed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “You must not enter!”

[Crashing, door opens]

NOONE: The projector I saw first was shaped like… a deformed eye. Then, my attention fell to… the mass on the floor. [Slimy sound] A brain? A heart? …No. It’s muscles pumped and pumped, and its tubes ran into the walls. The voice came, both from inside the room and over the PA:

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Happy day, No One.”

NOONE: It… it knew my real nickname. The ones kids at school scribbled all over my books. How? Because it was in my head. …I asked, “You’re the one who’s been talking? All those voices?”. Then, I saw countless film cans around the room, and understood. It was so alone, it took to imitating. Then it said,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Are you going to leave? Like all the others?”

NOONE: I managed a… “Yes”. The thing began pulsing and, upset, it sort of cried out.

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “So many, they take what they want and go, or get snatched away or worse!”

NOONE: It paused, then went on,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

NOONE: … But I didn’t want anything from it. The PA belted,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “The pendant! You wanted that!”

NOONE: The pulsing worsened until another voice came within the first,

VOICE 2, ov. with NOONE: “You’ve driven another away!” [Not overlapping, repeating: “You’ve driven another away!]

NOONE: I felt bad for it. Or them… this place had been warped by pain, and wanted so badly to keep me. Even the walls began throbbing. What could I do?!

[Noise intensifies, Dream!Noone breathes heavily]

NOONE: I – I ran. Down the stairs, out of the theater.

[Dream!Noone runs away]

NOONE: On the promenade, the lights were flashing so as to be dizzying. The PA screeched,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Everyone needs someone! Don’t leave me alone!”

NOONE: The walls began to cry that dark thick liquid, pooling around me, I looked up. From the floor above, the Candleman stared, pointing at my chest. At the pendant. I flung it down into the liquid, then he reached a hand toward me and –

[All noise stops]

NOONE: And all faded, as the PA sobbed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Don’t take her! Not this one, too…”

[Narration stops. Silence. Shifting]

OTTO: T-There was um… uh, e-excuse me, a curious phrase. “Warped by pain”. Is that how you feel, sometimes?

[Silence]

OTTO: Noone? Are you still angry with me? Or… distracted by the mirror?

NOONE: Behind my ear… there’s… a sore.

OTTO: Is that why you wanted the mirror all along?

NOONE: [Hum] It’s like the ones I used to get. I need to see it.

[Shifting]

OTTO: Nothing’s there. It’s red because you’ve been picking at it.

NOONE: …I have one more question for myself. Why do I have these dreams? Water sickness, that’s my answer.

OTTO: Noone. It’s wiped out of your system. There have been no known reinfections. It’s in your mind.

NOONE: (with increasing distress) What if the cure is the cause? I never had nightmares or headaches before all of this, before going on telly, before – before this! –

OTTO, interrupting: (whispering) No, no, come, come, come, come here, my girl. [Shifting, Otto hugs Noone] You’re not sick. You’re perfectly fine. You’re a perfectly wonderful little girl. This time I will protect you.

[The mirror falls on the ground and breaks]

NOONE: I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uh, you were squeezing so tight and… it slipped.

[The mirror shards are picked up. Otto throws them away]

OTTO: You asked why you dream. The truth? Nobody knows. My studies always assumed they were more than the brain’s way of filtering unconscious thoughts. But I had no answer either. An old professor of mine thought he did. He believed dreams come from an ever shifting plane, a quiddity of consciousness.

NOONE: Quidd-i-ty…

OTTO: Quiddity. The essence of a thing. In this case, a semiatangible plane outside the mind.

NOONE: Is it the same as mutual dreams? I don’t understand.

OTTO: My colleagues didn’t either. I’ve flip-flopped over the years, but I figured it was impossible to prove.

NOONE: Will I ever get rid of them, then? Will I ever leave the Coppy?

OTTO: You must understand, you are a unique case. I want to let you go, as soon as –

NOONE, interrupting: I’m better?

OTTO: (sighing) Yes. As soon as you’re better. [Otto stands, picks something up] Now –

NOONE: I know, I know. (Lower pitch, mimicking Otto) “Sweets for my sweet”. …Do I have to go back to my room?

[Sounds of plates]

OTTO: I’ve- got to tidy, [wrappers] and, you reminded me there’s something I need to find. On you go. I’ll come by later.

[Shift, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Otto looks through papers, and sighs]

OTTO: Ah, I found it. The paper that stained my professor’s career. Kept it all these years, hoping and dreading there was truth in these words…

OTTO, reading: “We know now that there is no center to the universe. Previously we thought it was the Sun, before that we thought it was the Earth. Our species always insists that ours is the quintessence of experience. Yet scientific observation proves our folly ad nauseum. If geocentrism took centuries to disprove, the question is not if but when the same will happen to reality itself. That which we are equipped to perceive may not be the only world. Let alone the predominant one.”

[Click]

[Outro plays]

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*This is what she actually says. I have no idea why.

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maximotts · 1 year

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𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛: 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

a/n: anddd we're back! I'm loving how this series is going so far and with this chapter posted, we're halfway through unless I decide to add a chapter or two, we'll see. Anyways, welcome to the Beginnings of Smutty Content for smol babie Wanda

✎— priest’s daughter!Wanda x college student!reader ✎— confessions AU; in which Wanda ponders over her growing feelings for you, tries her hardest to deal with them and, when asked out to a date night at the local Fall Festival, she tests out Agatha's advice ✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; fluff, smut; morning after deep thoughts, brief-ish make outs, a lot of kisses bc Wanda said so; masturbation; ice cream debauchery; thigh kisses and our favorite soft, flustered Wands

✎— words: 6.2k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

It was almost noon when you woke up the next morning, groggy and disoriented. As your brain caught up with your body, you registered warmth under your cheek, a gentle hand lazily stroking your hair; Wanda. The gentle rise and fall of her stomach could’ve lulled you back to sleep, might have too, if a traitorous yawn hadn’t given you away. “Look who’s awake.”

You turned over with a groan, hiding your face in Wanda as she giggled at your display. “You could’ve woken me up if you weren’t sleeping.”

Wanda pretended to think it over, not once planning on giving away that she’d be a fool to pass up the chance to commit the sight of you peacefully asleep on top of her to memory. “You needed your rest.”

Quiet moments like these happened to be Wanda’s favorites; where anything was possible and she could pretend that when you finally did awaken, she’d smother you in kisses and the two of you could roll around in bed for a lazy Sunday morning together. Where eventually, when she somehow pries you off of her, she’d stroll to the kitchen on shaky legs and make the apple cinnamon pancakes she remembered you telling her your mother used to make you as a child; the breakfast you missed most. And after a quick shower, you, not wanting to be anywhere else in the world, would sit at her small IKEA kitchen table and tell her all about your alcohol induced dreams.

All of that was possible until you woke up and you, the real you, sat up and stretched with an even louder yawn, casually reaching over her to grab the glass of water she knew last night you’d need right this minute. You drained the cup’s contents in one long gulp, setting it back on the nightstand before perching on the edge of the bed, one leg folded under you while the other dangled.

Wanda wished she could be the type to coax you back to bed, insist you sleep more and if not that, at least lay with her a little while longer, but the words sounded silly in her head and your imagined rejection stung her heart enough not to chance it.

You regarded her properly after a few slow blinks, taking in the sight of Wanda still half propped against her pillows, blankets now askew after you got up and tossed them aside. She looked smaller now, nestled amongst her plush bedding and looking up at you expectantly. The previous night’s events came back to you in a flash; the party, the game, the kiss that ended it, and the other that started something new. You cast a risky glance downwards, spotted perfectly patterned silk shorts and wondered whether the night’s hours alleviated any of that ache Wanda had tried subtly rubbing away with her legs as you fell asleep. Instead when you opened your mouth, a completely different line of questioning came out. “I shouldn’t be surprised you wear matching pajama shorts to bed.”

She knew you didn’t mean anything by it, but you were also blissfully unaware of the skimpier white one-piece she’d originally planned on luring you to bed with. The further away it got, the more Wanda wanted to hit herself for thinking she could ever stage such an after-party for you, on your first night out together no less. “I like to match! I shouldn’t be surprised you wear your street clothes to bed.”

Wanda was referring to your wrinkled t-shirt, the outstretched fabric and your underwear being your chosen sleepwear. Typically you did only wear a shirt, some old things you’d retired from your wardrobe and relegated to being strictly house wear until you officially wore it to shreds, “Well I didn’t have much choice, did I? You’re the one who asked me to stay, or would you rather I sleep naked?”

Laughter erupted from deep in your belly when the brunette’s jaw went slack, eyes wide as saucers, “You know that’s not what I meant! I don’t care what you wear!”

“Hey, your bed, your rules, princess. Just let me know for next time.” Next time, you’d said with a suggestive wink; if Wanda wasn’t already stunned into silence would surely send her rambling on.

Beside her earlier fantasies, she hadn’t factored in clothing, much less the absence of it. That train of thought sent her spiraling; she could see your legs in their entirety, goose pimpled from the cold air, but devilishly soft looking, but she was more curious to what lay under where you were covered— what you felt like, where you were most sensitive, if anywhere else made you shudder like Wanda discovered you did whenever she trailed her short nails over the nape of your neck.

“Think any harder and steam will come out of your ears,” you chuckled, getting up to uncover wherever you’d tossed your jeans. Messing with Wanda never failed to be an impeccably funny start to your day, but here, now, you had to put a stop to it. If you continued, you worried Wanda really would blow a gasket or worse, you’d push her so hard you’d break. “Don’t worry, I’m going off to go shower. I’ll leave you alone in a minute.”

Curious as Wanda was, you were exponentially so, wanting to snatch her up and take her and discover every place that made her tick. But Wanda was still drowsy, evident in the tiny yawns she hid behind her hands and how her head lolled against the headboard once she’d calmed herself down, and you needed her wide awake for everything you wanted.

So, admittedly, you were a little shocked to turn around after slipping on your shoes to find Wanda not only sitting fully upright, but with a very obvious forlorn look across her features. “You’re leaving?”

You shrugged, so casually her frown only deepened, “I know you like to clean on Sundays, don’t want to be in your way.” Not the real reason, but true enough to be believable. Wanda was notorious for her Sunday cleaning, preferring to start her week out as organized as possible. You told yourself to stop, not to tease her anymore, but she looked so akin to a kicked puppy you couldn’t help it, “What’s wrong, miss me already?”

Maybe she hadn’t fully coped with the loss of her fantasy day, or she’d lost her patience altogether, but whatever it was, Wanda wanted to cry. Again. She hated it, despised that instinctive response, and wanted to do anything to deflect that energy. So she picked up an unused pillow and launched it. The fluffy object flew at your face before you could catch it, smacking you with a dull thud. “Not with that attitude, I don’t.”

Her outburst gave Wanda enough time to wipe her eyes, ensuring there weren’t any tears that couldn’t be passed off as sleepiness; by the time your vision returned, she was sitting with her arms folded defiantly over her chest, pointedly avoiding having to look at you. Wanda was strangely huffy, but instead of catching her genuine disappointment, you wrote it off as morning crankiness and tossed the pillow back to her side. “Just for that, you’ve forfeit your goodbye kiss.”

You were joking really, having not even thought about giving her another kiss because she’d had yet to mention the others, but Wanda didn’t know that. She shot up in an instant, shuffling over to where you stood at the end of her bed and flinging her arms around you in an apologetic hug. “No wait, I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me I just-”

One gentle finger pressed against Wanda’s mouth, silencing her until all she could do was gaze up at you with pleading eyes from where she’d planted her chin on your chest. “You don’t want a kiss right now anyways, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Wanda shook her head, brushing off your excuse, “Neither have I…” If you were going to leave, she wouldn’t let you without the one thing she knew she could have. She’d make peace with her boring Sunday cleaning alone in her apartment, the lack of you, all of it, if she could face the day freshly kissed.

“Just one. We’ll make it quick,” You couldn’t deny her, not when you felt envious of her own teeth, biting down on her pink lower lip like you’d briefly done last night. Your thumb pried the flesh away from her grip, promptly replacing it with your mouth. It was meant to be a simple peck, short and sweet, but when the tip of your tongue accidentally brushed Wanda, she gasped— a tiny, quiet thing that sucked you right in.

Wanda parted her lips as you nudged against them once more, let the rough surface of your tongue slide over the straight row of her teeth and surrendered herself to whatever this new blissful feeling was. She could taste the last bits of alcohol on you, much less than the times previous, and having fully sobered up, your lead was more sure, more insistent, and it made Wanda’s legs tremble.

Somewhere in your embrace, the brunette’s arms fell from around your midsection and you pulled away, allowing you both air and her to fall back to her seated position. She touched her fingers to her lips, tried to ignore the tingling in her core that begged her to press just a little bit harder into the mattress for the friction it so desperately craved.

You had to leave Wanda there, her wildly lost expression too much for you to handle. “Text me when you’re free, princess.” You ruffled her already messy hair before leaving, the action coming across way too platonic for the intensity you’d just shared.

She heard her apartment door click, signaling she really was alone, and she planned to get up, honestly. But as her legs parted to move, a thick fold of her comforter dragged over her clothed center and Wanda couldn’t talk herself out of doing it again.. and again… and again until the lace underwear she’d picked to hopefully show off to you when she got home were thoroughly soaked.

It was all too easy to sink back into her fantasy land, the one where you hadn’t left, deciding instead to stay and waste the last half of your weekend kissing her instead. Eyes screwed shut, she imagined it was your bare leg she mounted instead, offering your thigh up to her as long as she let you have your way with her mouth. It was slightly uncomfortable, damp fabric pulled taut against her, but shaky fingers came to tug them to the side, pretending they were yours as her fingertips momentarily played with her clit before she forced her hips down swiftly.

Wanda didn’t know what you’d say, if you’d say anything during her frenzied display, but she hoped you did; something less practiced than the videos she’d seen. You’re so gorgeous all worked up for me, princess, a name you’d called her before and each time her heart latched onto you a fraction more, I want to see you cum now, will you do that for me?

She nodded her head as if you were still right there with her, mouth falling open as she rut her bare cunt over her comforter at just the right angle. If she focused enough Wanda could see your sly grin, that look you gave when you knew you’d gotten her right where you wanted, pretended her fists were balled tight into your shirt instead of her wrinkled sheets, “Yes, yes… I’ll do it! I-I’m gonna…!”

Wanda came with a whimper, weakly jerking her hips until she could no longer hold herself upright and fell forward. Dull aftershocks pulsed pleasantly through her body, but her pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something more Wanda never worked up the confidence to give it. The shame she felt having ruined not only her new undergarments, but also her shorts and sheets, laying limply in the cooling wet spot she’d made in her dalliance, was more than enough to leave her cheeks burning hot and she let out a loud, dramatic groan into her pillow.

Luckily, it was already laundry day.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

That evening, once Wanda showered the last of yesterday’s events away, washed her dirty clothes, and carefully remade her bed with new sheets, she flopped down on her couch in exhaustion. She pondered texting you, but the mere thought made her brain fly back to earlier activities and she wasn’t quite ready to face you yet. Instead she pressed Agatha’s name, thumbs hovering over the keypad as she tried to figure out how to even start the conversation she wanted to have.

So we kissed… three times…

The text barely read as delivered before Wanda’s phone buzzed, Agatha clearly having been on her device already, Three times where?

She fought the urge to toss her phone as she read the message punctuated with a suggestive emoji. Of course Agatha would think the worst. On the mouth, obviously! We’ve only been out once!

Once is more than enough, even nuns like you have to know thatWhat happened?

Wanda detailed the last twenty-four hours as positively as possible, leaving out the game context for what was technically your first shared kiss. She smiled as she recalled your little bedroom fall, your sleepy scramble to rejoin her; maybe she’d be willing to face another party in the future if it meant spending the night with you.

She stayed over and she didn’t try anything? Did you scare her off or something? Wanda sunk deeper into the couch, having convinced herself your restraint was more because you were drunk than her putting you off. But she was well aware you’ve slept with Carol before, much more intoxicated than last night and haven’t spent even half the time together she had with you; it wasn’t the setting or the timing that was the problem. As her thoughts wandered again, Wanda hoped she wasn’t the issue.

Unfortunate turn of conversation aside, it gave Wanda the perfect opening she needed to talk about what she texted her friend about in the first place. I don’t know how to tell her I’m interested in her in.. that way…how we talked about? But I don’t want her to think I’m too forward.

So what if she thinks you’re a bit of a slut, that’s hot!

Aggie! Be serious!

Even as Agatha assured her that she would never joke about something as serious as someone’s awakening, Wanda groaned; maybe she should’ve texted Natasha… she’d tell her roommate anyways. Just tell me what to do.

Take the opportunity when it comes and when it does, go with it.

The advice was easier said than done, Wanda first needing to know what an opportunity looks like to even have a hope of seizing it. Trading her phone for a pillow, she dropped the plush object over her head, squishing it to her face just enough to muffle the anguished sigh she couldn’t hold in one second longer.

The two of you were… terribly normal after that weekend. Still inseparable in your classes, you continued to come over in your free time, flirted with her until she shook— now though, Wanda quickly grew addicted to your kisses. Never as intense as Sunday morning, but whenever there was a quiet moment, walking behind a building or before you went back to your respective rooms, if she tugged at your hand and waited, you’d give her what she was after. Anyone else, you’d call them childish or brush the behavior off after a while, but each time you felt that shy pull on your sweater, you melted. You were falling for her so fast, so hard; if you ever crashed, it’d hurt like a drop from a skyscraper.

It was always private though, Wanda treating each touch or smooch as illegal levels of scandal. You tried not to think about it too much; she wasn’t ashamed of you, just introverted. When you tried to think of a time where you’d been so intent on secrecy, you were thrown back to your first girlfriend; everything was so special that you’d been obsessively possessive with keeping those butterflies between you and your partner, where no one could ruin them. Considering Wanda and what she’s been through, you couldn’t blame her for hoarding her joy. Besides, there’s something undeniably hot about sneaking around.

Nonetheless, however much time you spent with her, you always wanted more. Maybe that was your own greed amidst Wanda’s; as long as she’d have you, you’d keep her. “So Wands,” you whispered to get her attention, not wanting to scare her or disrupt your professor’s impassioned monologue on the global impacts of the evolution of the written world, “do you have any plans this evening?”

Wanda looked up from her detailed notes long enough to let you know she was listening, her pen still writing, “You know I don’t.”

“I’m just checking!” You nudged her gently, winding your arms around her until your head rested on her shoulder. “Since you’re not busy, would you be up for checking out the fall festival with me?”

Wanda stopped writing then, turning to you again as your lips kissed her shoulder. You were looking at her in that peculiar way again, where your eyes got so wide they started to shine, the barest hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth; she doubted you knew how often you gave yourself away like that. “Is this a date? Do I need to dress up?”

“Yes to the date, no to dressing up.” Last weekend, she’d gone so far out of her comfort zone for you; now you wanted to take her somewhere she could hopefully relax and have a more familiar type of fun. Wanda mentioned in passing her dad used to bring her and Pietro to the fair nearly every year and while she hadn’t outright said she wanted to go, you were sure she’d want to go.

“Hm..” When Wanda returned to her notetaking, you figured she was just thinking it over, but she didn’t write anything, held her pen too tight, and chancing another glance at her face, her teeth worried her bottom lip how she did whenever she fell too deep in her head. A few days after Carol’s comment, Wanda dressed differently; it started with her party outfit, black and fitted, and while she’d gone back to her patterns, her dresses now were shorter, thinner. Today’s choice was a dark pink slip dress, adorable but modern, and while you wouldn’t complain or tell her what to wear, her pointed refusal to bring her favorite cardigan to classes made you wonder if Wanda felt like she had to make a change.

You thumbed over the curve of her hip, pulling her close enough to nuzzle into her neck. It was the furthest she’d let you go in class without pushing you away; as long as you could reassure her somehow. “Wear exactly what you are right now. I’m just excited to take you out, silly.”

“You look very pretty today, sunshine.” Wanda sighed long and deep, relaxing her shoulders and trying to absorb your reassurance. She loved the fair, missed not going the past couple of years, and she knew she was bound to have a good time if you were there; her nerves just wanted to eat her alive. “I’ll win you something soft and get you all the fair food you want?”

“It’s really not smart to keep offering me things before I’ve even said no.” She turned quickly, pressing a small peck to your warm forehead before scribbling away yet again, “Now I’ll make you win me the biggest teddy we can find.”

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

The fair was pretty much how Wanda remembered it, same layout, same variety of vendors, same rigged carnival games. You were happy to let her show you around, not that this small county fair was anything innovative, but Wanda was so thrilled to point out her favorite booths, it was only polite to let her guide the way.

True to your word, after a dozen tries you’d conquered the bean bag toss, winning the brunette a pink bunny rabbit who she immediately dubbed Carrot. You’d paid for that thing at least twice over by the time you won, but Wanda snuggled it so lovingly, cooed over the object so sweetly… money well spent. “He’s going to sit right on my bed all the time so I can remember your perseverance!”

“Oh I’m honored, a coveted bed post for my little thing!” Your gasp was way too dramatic, a few people close by turning their heads to find the source of the sound. Wanda swatted at your arm before pulling you along, but you stopped her as soon as you felt her chilly hand in yours. “Are you cold?”

Wanda shrugged, taking her hand back to fold her arms over her chest as a gust of wind blew by. “A little, but…well…”

“You didn’t bring a jacket.” Wanda’s sweater rejection strangely carried into your date and the further into the afternoon it got, the worse of a choice today’s dress was. Usually she’d pull on a sweatshirt as soon as she settled into her apartment or you could persuade her to bring an outer layer if it wasn’t during school, but tonight she’d insisted three times not to worry about her. “I’m starting to think you’ve stopped wearing sweaters just to steal my jackets.”

“Would you be mad if I did?” A playful grin grew on Wanda’s expression, teeth biting her lower lip as she waited for you to give in. If there was one thing she loved more than her own collection of thick cotton knits, it was your hoodies. None of them braced against the cold as much as hers, but the embedded smell of you kept Wanda plenty warm.

You sighed and shed your jacket, momentarily taking Carrot from Wanda’s arms before helping her into the sleeves. It was a little too big for her small frame, extra material slouching over her shoulders and to her wrists, and as she took her precious stuffed animal back, snuggling it to her chest, your heart leapt. “Not when you look as good as you do in them.”

Wanda didn’t know where to go with the compliment, still painfully lost on how to reciprocate such a comment, but she knew she didn’t want you to spot her blushing from something so small. In a panic, Wanda spun around, darting to the nearest stall and practically leaving you in the dust. “Come on, I want ice cream!”

“Are you sure you want something that’s gonna make you colder right now?” You went after her of course, catching up only when she paused to take a spot in line. Wanda really could run fast when she wanted to.

She nodded, pretending to study the menu that only gave her three different choices of soft serve, “You promised all the fair food I wanted. Right now, it’s ice cream.”

Once she’d gotten it, she only took a few licks, taking much more interest in walking and talking with you than eating. You noticed and, figuring she might be the type that prefers to sit and eat rather than realizing her diversion for what it was, found a set of hay bales just off the beaten path of fair traffic.

Wanda didn’t mind, let you help her onto the middle row of the haystack and tried not to visibly stiffen when you sat below her… between her legs. It’s just a convenient place to sit, she tried reasoning, willing herself to focus on anything besides the warmth of your back on the inside of her calf. Lost in thought, she missed the small drip of ice cream over her fingers until it fell onto her knee, “Great…I forgot napkins.”

Without thinking, you ducked down and licked the melted mess, your tongue making quick work of where she’d spilled it. You should’ve been even a bit more ashamed for the forward action, but in your head it was harmless. An easy and helpful fix for a lack of napkins, was all. “Finish your ice cream quickly, Wands. You’ll make a mess.”

The brunette was stunned at how casually you’d licked her, having gone straight back to mindlessly scrolling your phone without a care in the world. Meanwhile a thin coat of your saliva cooled on her leg, prickling at her skin and daring her to wonder what that same action would feel like elsewhere on her body. You weren’t paying her any extra attention, giving Wanda ample chance to run through her options: act outraged and warn you not to do it again, something that was so big of a lie Wanda wasn’t sure she could believably play it off, or allow herself a stint of not so innocent curiosity.

Her hand tipped before she’d rationalized it any further, a larger drop above her knee this time. Wanda needed to see if you’d do it again; what she would feel if you did it again. “I’m trying, but it’s cold..”

Her whine from above caught your attention, turning around to see Wanda’s once again sticky leg and sighing. “You’ll ruin your dress and then I won’t hear the end of it-” You licked it off, forcing away your suggestive thoughts… until you looked up. Her face gave her away instantly, cheeks pink and eyes alert; she did it on purpose.

The current position wasn’t wasted on you, perched perfectly in between her legs, just above eye level to her bottom half. To what extent Wanda caught on, you didn’t know, but you’d be a fool not to at least try, “Careful…” You shifted enough to place both hands on her legs, sliding the hem of her dress a few inches up as a small test of her comfort. If she pushed you away, you wouldn’t have been surprised, the public setting making this all more scandalous than you ever thought Wanda would agree to.

But she didn’t move a muscle, not one utterance of protest; Wanda kept her eyes locked on you. The hay bales were faced away from any crowds, far enough that nobody walked directly past you; if someone knew the back of Wanda’s head they could spot her, but whatever lust clouded her brain, that was enough security for now. Another set of drops fell, purposeful now that you both were on the same page. Wordlessly, she watched as your tongue made another appearance, licking away her self-made mess.

Each time she spilled the cold treat, you lapped it up with a slow sweep, lingering longer the higher you got. Wanda doubted you noticed you’d begun a series of low groans, fully leant over as you kissed each area you cleaned. Everything she knew taught her to be ashamed of both of your behaviors, overtly passionate and so very inappropriate, but honestly it only turned Wanda on more. If she had to be penitent for the rest of her life over this, so be it.

You had none of the same moral dilemma Wanda had, more than willing to play this little game all night. You’d yet to speak aloud how much her legs lived in your head, every sighting of them driving you just that little bit further into the depths of your growing need for the girl now leaning back to let ice cream fall higher. When you’d slept on her, you’d done so with thoughts running wild of how to touch them again, how sensitive she’d be if she allowed you even five minutes to focus on her impossibly smooth skin; never in your wildest dreams did you think Wanda would offer herself up like she was now.

At mid thigh, she was visibly twitching, either from damp skin exposed to the cold, arousal, or a combination of the two. “You just had to go and get yourself all wet and sticky?” Her ice cream trick, yes, but as you spoke, your eyes were trained under Wanda’s hitched dress, the barest hint of her underwear visible in the dim light of dusk. It was torture to only just be able to see her, restraining your urge to dive closer and confirm what you’d bet money on was a dark spot on the white cotton fabric.

Wanda was breathing so heavily her chest heaved, both mortified and flattered by your shameless ogling. She nearly snapped her legs shut, instinct screaming to hide and deny the effect you had on her; a louder voice remembered Agatha’s go with it advice and she had to admit, this proved a lot more fun. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I swear…”

It was a fake apology, accented with the largest spill yet, a heavy glob of her near fully melted dessert landing on her inner thigh… right next to where you were already staring. Countless times she’s asked for kisses; same principle, different area. “First my jacket and then wasting my money on something you had no intention of eating properly, what a naughty girl you’ve been.”

She thought sure her eyes would roll back into her head as you cleaned her up again, your tongue making slow, languid strokes Wanda vowed to commit to memory. When the last of the chill was gone, Wanda assumed you’d pull away, but if you had to give something up today, you’d grant yourself the reward of adding your own piece to her game. Lips making noises Wanda would only ever describe as obscene, you sucked a hickey into the sensitive skin of her thigh; a not-so-gentle reminder of what you could do should the other girl let you.

When you backed up, it was to sit straight on your knees, hands glued to Wanda’s hips where you still had her dress pinned. She looked terribly disheveled, poor thing, free hand clutching her stuffed rabbit for dear life while her mouth hung open far enough to let you know she was seconds away from outright panting. “Think you’ll bring napkins next time or will you let me lick you clean forever?”

It was those devious circles your thumbs rubbed into the join of her hips that did her in, so close to where she was scared she was now dripping, an unexpected shudder forcing Wanda to drop the entire cone, the sugary mixture splattering across her dress and your jacket. “Oh! I promise I didn’t want to do that!”

You remained unfazed, one track mind set on kissing lips bit so hard they’re now slightly swollen. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” And you were so close too, less than an inch from the trembling girl in front of you— Carol calling your name was the one thing that ruined it all.

It took you a moment to register you were on the ground, Wanda having shoved you back as hard as she could the instant she heard. You watched from below as she righted her dress, your ass stinging from the heavy fall while Wanda tried looking as normal as possible. She turned to see Carol approaching with barely contained laughter, having witnessed Wanda knocking you off balance. The blonde only wanted to ruin your moment, she had no idea her classmate would actually push you; that just made it all the more funny. “Might be pushing your luck after that one kiss, buddy. Think that was it for a lifetime!”

Wanda shot you an apologetic look as Carol passed, the shock and confusion on your face darkening her mood further. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, I heard her and panicked and I…” She wasn’t ashamed to be with you, not in the slightest; she was forever in awe of you being so willing to be seen with her. Maybe not for much longer, if she kept up her habit of sneaking around and shoving you off, “What if she tells? Oh god, it’ll be awful-”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I get it.” You cut her off before she could spiral out of control, jumping up a little too fast for how much your back hurt and brushing the dust off your pants. Truthfully, you didn’t get it, you’d never had to experience anywhere near what Wanda grew up with, couldn’t imagine the lasting impact that might have on someone. Reminding yourself to be patient was hard but doable, picking up Wanda’s stuffed rabbit and placing it into her shaking hands at the same time you pressed a comforting kiss to the crown of her head. “We should get you home anyways, it’s getting late.”

The sun was nearly completely gone now, far off on the horizon, a deep purple sky replacing its bright light. Wanda wanted to ask you to stay, to try again and see if she could revive the moment she and Carol broke, but large globs of ice cream were soaking into her dress, splattered from when she’d dropped her cone and darkening the pink color; both she and her outfit needed a wash. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry…”

“I didn’t ask you to apologize.” Wanda took your hand when you offered it, let you zip up your hoodie around her to somewhat cover the large stain; no matter how lighthearted your tone was, she couldn’t shake the embarrassment scratching at her, filling her head with now way too familiar thoughts of how stupid she’d been.

You kept your arm around her the whole way to your car, constantly checking over to see if her slumped posture and shy mood improved; it didn’t. Every day you spent around Wanda, each time the two of you danced a little closer, your need for her grew. It was harder and harder not to just take her, especially when she came out of her bathroom freshly showered, shuffling over to her bed in yet another too sweet set of pajamas.

She cuddled up to you wordlessly, choosing not to comment on how presumptively you’d settled into her bed because this time, it fit her needs. Natasha taught her the subtler way of flirting, close contact, small touches, things felt rather than seen. But even after wrapping her arms around your middle, fingering the edge of your shirt, letting her nails graze just barely over your hip, you didn’t make a move. In fact, you were notably less touchy than usual and Wanda hoped to god she hadn’t ruined her last chance back at the fair.

In reality, you were just barely hanging on to the last bits of your restraint, rationalizing to yourself Wanda’s touches meant nothing more than absentminded fidgeting. You hadn’t bargained on how badly she could affect you, not her floral scented shampoo or whatever body wash she used that made her skin heavenly soft, but all of it was dangerous. You’d resolved not to try anything further tonight, wanting to give Wanda ample space to recover from whatever she felt with Carol’s sudden appearance; she made it nearly impossible to do the right thing.

“So..about earlier?” You asked, giving in and pulling one of her legs until it lay over your lap, greedily demanding more closeness from her you didn’t know she was more than willing to give.

“Yeah, I…I liked it.” Liked was a grave understatement, a laughable comparison considering how the mere reminder of it all made her thighs tense up all over again. This was where Wanda expected you to make some kind of move, anything really, some hint that gave her an ounce of reassurance that you wanted to try again.

But your hand stayed still splayed over the curve of her hip, unmoving while a billion thoughts ran through your head. You didn’t even kiss her like she’d come to be accustomed to, what you knew full well she was expecting once you’d gotten her home. Whether she was aware you could feel every squeeze of her legs around your abdomen or not, you refused to speak up about it. If you had to be tormented by her fingers still scraping your warm side, Wanda could handle a little torture herself. No, you’d stay quiet as a mouse, just to see what leaving her wanting more would do. “Right, I’m glad.”

Wanda wanted to shake you, to sit on your lap, push you back, pin you down, and just… yell very explicit words until you understood how much she needed you to fuck her. Maybe it wouldn’t be the sexiest thing in the world to have to ask someone to take her virginity, but she’s never wanted it gone so badly. Something new had washed over Wanda in her time with you, some obsessive need whose intensity might’ve worried her if it didn’t always feel so damn good.

She knew you’d done it plenty of times before, last week you told her you’d have sex with her if she wanted to. Well, Wanda wanted it and she was determined to get it sooner rather than later, preferably before she exploded from sheer frustration.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff series #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #confessions au.#motts writes.#maximotts

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sotogalmo · 2 months

Text

5 — 10:11

Malice Waltz : UmbraticForest.

(UmbraticForest)

________ @jasminetea1234 , @iswmperson , @dannybobany , @vomitpukey , (and my other mutuals!!)

“A nightmare Ballroom ... Joined by spirits of the night ... The graveyard's only just begun to come alive. ... Lalalalala / lalalalala. Let's have a ball ~

Join our malevolent waltz!

Cinders and ashes all lie, on dolls with prying eyes. (Dark and beautiful as sin. "Let the festival begin") Drowning in the grief, I can barely breathe ... Waiting for you, clamoring

Aren't we all enamoring?

Ancient, ancient,

Ancient eaves of the night

Burn the sky with all my scorn, You, who I love and adore.

Descending, descending

Deep in the dark heart of hell ...

Promise I will guide you well, glowering along the way. Sneering I howl your name.

During the day, all my dreams are light,

but in the night they get sullied with spite. (it's all the same, play either way). Creaking like a crooked laugh,

The dead are gathering on my behalf.

Stealing every soul we see, be with us eternally :)

I'll give you the gift, of a granted wish. So welcome to your confession, ..bend the knee, You pray to me.

There's no threshold, I'm not willing to cross. You are damned forevermore, You who I love and adore. Drowning, drowning, in the nocturnal depths ...

Glowing embers rising up, from my broken heart and corpse — Scattered by your own hand.

Ancient, ancient ...

A land of carrion fey ...

A parade of wonderful friends, summon us and make it right.

Morning, or

Noon, or

Nighhtttt (ah)

Ancient, ancient,

Ancient eaves of the night

Burn the sky with all my scorn, YOU WHO I LOVE AND ADORE.

Today,

you'll serenade

Us with your lovely voice

This malevolent waltz of ours(!) playing to the tune of you,

Breaking, bloody, and bruised...

Lalalalala, lalalalala, ......... ”

______________________________

Okay. So uhm had this idea for hours, wanted to show the lyrics, and now imma explain why I even made this post(e.i: connect the lyrics with the tags - under the Read More!):

"A nightmare Ballroom": The Pizzaria, or like. Fnaf SL bunker

"joined by spirits of the night": obvious reference to the MCI kids.

"the graveyard's only just begun to come alive": Pizzeria/Bunker being a graveyard. It's a whole ass graveyard. It's just a graveyard. Animatronics are the kids Tombstones/Headstones.

"Lalalalala / lalalalala": Kids singing, but it's just disgusting noises to us(moans of pain, etc etc. dead body stuff). But they are singing because they have new food, or at the very least a new friend! — "Let's have a ball ~": around the ams of the night, they roam and they go and look for you, their food or friend!

"Join our malevolent waltz!": If you and they want to stay friends together, you have to join them!

"Cinders and ashes all lie, on dolls with prying eyes. (Dark and beautiful as sin. —": Dolls/toys in CC's room. And also the toys in VR, that reside in CC's room. 'Cinders & ashes', being Fire, but moreso how much he's feeling - making it feel like he's burning up. 'Dark and beautiful as sin', being from William but maybe CC. Only maybe

"— Let the festival begin")": Festival of gaining a new friend! Festival of taking down their murderer!

"Drowning in the grief, I can barely breathe ...": Many characters but the ones I can name off the top of my head are - Henry, CC, and Mike. We all know that in all canons, these are the ones mostly and almost always with the emotion of grief/sadness & also with the color of blue. And well, yeah. They can barely breathe because of the overwhelming water in their head, hearts and eyes. Leaving themselves breathless, because they lost one thing that is important to them (Henry: his daughter. CC: his life(he has a hate/love relationship bout his life). Mike S: his brother, and almost his sister).

"Waiting for you, clamoring": wanting you to stay with them, so they make more noises. More sounds of wishing for the morning to stop coming so they would stop having to feel you leave them alone. They are kids, who might be angry, but they want friends.

"Aren't we all enamoring?": they were liked before. They want to believe they still are.

"Ancient, ancient, Ancient eaves of the night": The Pizzaria is quite old, hell ancient to Gregory and his friends! But it all happens at night. All of the mysteries happen at night. In SL bunker, they have two(?) hanging bodies in Ballora's Gallery (for the meaning of eaves: the lower border of a roof that overhangs the wall.)

"Burn the sky with all my scorn,—": Henry setting fire to the pizzeria, in FNAF6, because he wants it to fade away but he also wants everything he now(?) hates to just. Leave, and never stay in the physical realm of the living.

"—You, who I love and adore.": Henry & Charlie, or any other character!

"Descending, descending Deep in the dark heart of hell ...": Obvious William, he gets burned and then his soul gets dragged down to Hell. Because that's what was in Henry's speech, and that's where he belongs.

"Promise I will guide you well,—": Charlotte all the fuckin way. She's the puppet, give gifts ; give life. She promises the kids to keep them safe and not alone. "glowering along the way. Sneering I howl your name.": Cassidy/Vanessa/Gregory/Micheal, as they don't want to believe what happened and are angry that they lost the battle of being stronger. Angry that they gave Afton control

"During the day, all my dreams are light, but in the night they get sullied with spite.": CC core. Plain and simple, and I just think it fits the guy. Daylight is freedom, and nighttime is not. And he's very angry, and spiteful bout it. He hates it

"(it's all the same, play either way).": Everyday, every week, all the same. To deal with animatronics, nightmares or real. It's all the same, all you can do is approach it differently. But you do it either way/nonetheless.

"Creaking like a crooked laugh,": William/Elizabeth(CB)/Gregory(GGY)/Vanessa(Vanny). Just.. yeah, a "crooked laugh" kinda just fits their style. And for me, I don't think a crooked laugh is smth nice sounding. Kinda scary to think and yeah, I can see them using it as a scare tactic, yk?

"The dead are gathering on my behalf.": Vanessa A/Henry/Micheal. Vanessa & Micheal parallels, and Henry being the one to play it out.

"Stealing every soul we see, be with us eternally :)": DEFINITELY THE MCIS, BUT ESPECIALLY THE MOVIE VERSION. You cannot deny that. Cassidy, making a deal for them to have Abby forever(so that they can have a new friend, at the very least. Or maybe to sew up the hole that Garrett left behind, when he 'left')

"I'll give you the gift, —": Charlie/Garrett, doing what they assigned themselves to do and help other children, like themselves. "—of a granted wish": Cassidy in the movie, making a deal with Mike(maybe a small parallel with Glitchtrap making a deal with Vanessa??).

"So welcome to your confession,—": Charlie/Garrett/Cassidy/Glitchtrap(maybe also William?), listening to people's needs/subconscious desires, and giving them what they want(Charlie & Garrett give the kids a second try at life with a new body because they didn't & don't want to pass on. Cassidy & Glitchtrap making deals, giving them what they truly want. GT with Gregory & Vanessa: maybe having their own power over the people who wronged them?, and Cassidy with Mike: giving what he really wants, giving what he has always wished for).

"—bend the knee,": Cassidy(not rlly, but anger gets the best of them) & Glitchtrap getting angry when they try to refuse.

"—You pray to me.": William wanting to be treated like a God, or at the very least a very higher and 'divine' being. Slamming his hands on his desk(from the movie), and just- getting angry at stupid people(or people he finds stupid, in his own sense)

"There's no threshold, I'm not willing to cross.": Gregory & Vanessa NOT wanting to be like Glitchtrap (or who he says he was before). They are not willing to cross. But they cross either way. And they wished they were stronger. But it sucks, because Glitchtrap is powerful in convincing & being in control.

"You are damned forevermore,—": Towards William, but also other characters (from the books/games & more). "—You who I love and adore.": maybe towards Vanessa A & Elizabeth??? Very much inspired by @send-me-a-puffalope 's Papillomatosis fic. Because Will does care for his kids in that fic(he couldn't let go of Liz, and he had a SMALL hint of regret or something similar when he stabbed Nessa, will not let that go). And well, they are damned forever. Forever to tied to the purple that poisons everyone and everything.

"Drowning, drowning, in the nocturnal depths ...": Many characters, but makes me think of how @lets-ignore-that kinda depicts OMC/Henry in his art, yk? Very dark and muddy, and he's just. Stuck in water(blood? Red water? Who knows what that liquid is), always going to be drowning in his sorrows. And always being hidden from sight & only coming out at night just like his daughter and her friends.

"Glowing embers rising up, from my broken heart and corpse — Scattered by your own hand.": A WHOLE MIX OF LIKE. NAT'S FIC OF VANESSA (especially when it gets to the Scooped part) AND IGNORE'S DEPICTION OF how scooped Micheal looks and all. (Honorable mentions very much are @raccoon-in-a-dumpster & @connectionterminated13 's scooped Micheal designs. But like. Only saw them once so uh- yeah. But still!! Yeah). Souls leaving when the fire starts, and just. Getting their safe Haven. 'scattered by your own hand' is SO fully directed towards William. You cannot deny that (but the whole color coding it: purple for will, and the red for Foxybro & white for GGY/Vanny, because well. I just think it makes it much more. Sadder. Yeah)

"Ancient, ancient ... A land of carrion fey ...": A land filled with ghost children, crying - weeping or even seething. Changing shapes to match that of what they now represent, making their whole skin and body twitch inside of the suits, and change just slightly. Changing how they look since they won't be remembered or they don't even remember themselves. Maybe their eyes got plucked out? Stabbed? They don't know..but they don't recognize themselves and.. they think that they are fine with it. And maybe they are!

"A parade of wonderful friends, summon us and make it right.": MCI, and Elizabeth/Tony/Cassie/Abby. I'm just thinking about it, and MCI with these kids honestly?? Make sense? In the sense that, MCI technically got new friends yet they are all scattered(not really Cassie & Abby, but you get the idea). The 'summon us and make it right', goes so well with Abby tho(the kids were there, Chica & Abby went to 'play' - cut chase, Abby is close to being stuck inside a Ella springlock suit).

"Morning, or

Noon, or

Nighhtttt (ah)": Morning? Nightguards leftovers or the vandanlizers from the movie. Noon/Night, being with Mike/Micheal/fright guard Henry/Jeremy. Some ,if not most all, of the night guards fall victim & prey (again. Nat with their fic on Vanessa, and the other Fritz being proof of that).

"Ancient, ancient, Ancient eaves of the night": The Pizzaria is quite old, hell ancient to Gregory and his friends! But it all happens at night. All of the mysteries happen at night. All pulling the strings together to end it all, and end it once and for all.

"Burn the sky with all my scorn, YOU WHO I LOVE AND ADORE.": Fire to end it all. Should've happened way before, but the feelings are now too overwhelming and he has to act it now. Or maybe it wasn't the feelings but the idea of starting a new in a new year/decade(FNAF6 happening in like. Early 2010s I think? / For the movie it would be around 2016 on where they end it all?? I think??? I don't know). The 'you who I love and adore' being in capital letters just makes me think of Willry honestly. Especially coming from William's mouth, cuz he's TOTALLY also screaming for Henry to help him as he's just being tortured in Cassidy's special hell.

"Today, you'll serenade, Us with your lovely voice": The singers of the animatronics, the kids sing their songs of lullabies and rhymes. Or maybe they could be the Night guards 'singing' to them. Maybe Vanessa.A singing songs to them?

"This malevolent waltz of ours(!) playing to the tune of you,—": The kids are okay and are used to what you're experiencing. They were like you when it happened. "—Breaking, bloody, and bruised...": Micheal/Vanessa & Gregory, Charlie & Mike, Vanessa.A/etc. it just .... Osgsbudhsjndndnhd. I think it just fits them. All breaking in many ways, mentally(Vanny & GGY) - physically(Mike) & emotionally(Nessa & others).

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little-escapist · 1 year

Note

Kiss prompt 23 or ten or both if you feel so inclined 😁

Finally here! These two are a continuation to this one.

10. …desperately

They don’t mention it, but that night Blaine’s touch is needier than ever, Kurt’s hands shakier than before as they undress each other. They barely speak at all as they let their hands wander in the dim light of Blaine’s bedroom, the world cut away from them by thick curtains in front of the window. It’s like all the world is in this room, ends to these stone walls, and no one else exists but them and their need for each other.

Kurt has not made any promises or decisions yet and Blaine is getting married tomorrow. The ceremony begins at noon. It feels like the clock is ticking away too loudly, every second one second closer to doom. They have 14 hours before Blaine walks down the aisle. Kurt imagines he’ll get to spend at least nine of those hours with Blaine, in his arms, together as close as they can be. He has to sneak away in the morning, though, before the servants come to help Blaine get ready.

Still, they have these nine hours before that. They both need to make the most of it. They both need to be as close to the other as humanly possible. After they shed their layers, they step together and hold on. It’s a strange suspension – time seems to go too fast yet stay still at the same time because all Kurt knows is Blaine’s fervent touch.

They fall to bed and without a second’s hesitation Blaine pulls Kurt on top. He spreads his legs and Kurt falls in between. Their eyes lock for a moment and it’s almost too much to see the pure need and longing in Blaine’s golden eyes. Kurt swallows down the tears that threaten to rise to his eyes. Blaine’s hands come up to frame his face and caress his cheeks for a moment before Blaine pulls him down and kisses him. It’s deep and dirty from the start. Blaine holds on to Kurt’s face as if he’s drowning and it’s the only thing he can hold on to as he bites at Kurt’s lips in his desperation.

This might very well be their last night together, so Kurt doesn’t mind if it hurts a little.

23. …in relief

The huge room is full of people. It seems like the whole city is there to witness the royal wedding. Blaine looks very handsome in his finest clothes, the royal red on black, his hair parted and to the side. There’s a calm mask of a smile on his face, but his eyes are nervous. Wedding jitters, someone whispered earlier. Nervous about the audience, guessed another. Kurt wanted to sigh at the words around him but refrained from making a sound. He shouldn’t listen to the conversations going on around him and his dad, but he needs to focus on something, or he will vibrate out of his skin with his own nerves. His dad has been giving him odd looks the whole morning, but Kurt has ignored them. He will start crying if he tells his dad what he’s about to do, and tears are not a look he wants to sport in front of the whole city and his lover.

The bride, a pretty, young woman in huge white dress that’s more frill than anything else, looks like this is her dream day. She’s smiling and practically radiating as she walks down the aisle towards Blaine and Kurt is certain she has no idea who Blaine really is and how miserable they both will be is this wedding happens. Neither of them will have the life they want. Kurt wonders if Blaine has just put on his charming front when he has met with her before. She looks way too happy to know the truth about Blaine – too happy to know this is a marriage of convenience and nothing else. She looks at Blaine like he hung the moon as they clutch hands once she gets to the altar.

The priest starts droning on and Kurt falls into his thoughts, staring at the back of the man sitting in front of him. He fidgets with his hands and keeps his breathing measured. He has never been this scared in his life, not even when he was eight years old, and his mother was dying. He has no idea what will happen and how his life will turn out in just minutes. His mind is finally made up, though. He knew that he only had one option this morning when he snuck out of Blaine’s chambers before dawn, kissing him goodbye and telling him to be brave.

“… speak now, or forever hold their peace,” says the priest, and Kurt’s moment has come.

He stands up and an alarmed noise goes through the crowd.

“Kurt, what are you doing?” his dad asks, but Kurt doesn’t answer. He steps away from the bench and on the aisle, feeling hundreds of eyes on his skin.

“I object,” Kurt says loudly, projecting so his voice rings clearly in the vast space and reaches every last pair of ears. “I object to this marriage because the prince will never be happy married to a woman.”

Blaine is staring at him as he walks closer. His face has lost its mask, and all his emotions are right there for everyone to see: he looks happy, relieved, and more than a little dazed. He lets go of his bride and starts down the aisle towards Kurt, as if they were the only people there, not caring about the city watching. His aunt stands up from her spot in the front and walks at a brisk pace after him, but Blaine’s stride is lengthening with every step he takes until he’s almost running.

He reaches Kurt, and Kurt opens his arms without hesitation. This is their truth, this is who they both are despite what June Dolloway or the world wants them to be. Blaine doesn’t hesitate either as he steps on his tiptoes to kiss Kurt full on the lips in front of everyone. He sucks on Kurt’s lip like he never wants to let go, melting against Kurt. Kurt holds him up, gathers him close and kisses back with the same amount of relief. The truth is out, there’s nothing June Dolloway can do about it, she can’t try to hide Blaine anymore, no matter what happens next. They are together, they have told the world. No more hiding, no more fear.

Their fate is out of their hands now, but they have shown who they are and who they want to be with.

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #my fic #my writing #glee

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shiftingparadise · 2 years

Note

Hi there! If you are still taking request I wanted to request a post war Jean x fem reader. It’s been two years since the war ended and no more titans. Jean and reader got married and even had twins which they named Marco and Sasha. Im going based of the beginning of episode 84 in which it shows jeans dream life after the war. Lots of fluff thanks!

God, I love Jean so much. Thank you for your request, I hope you like it! Enjoy reading 🤍✨

Word Count: 3163

‘Jean, are you already drinking liquor?’, you sighed while holding Marco and Sasha in your arms, ‘It’s not even noon’. ‘Ai, it’s a beautiful day today’, he smiled while taking a small, precious sip from his liquor, as if it were his last. ‘You say that every day’, you replied disapprovingly before sitting down on the couch, ‘Would be nice if you could hand me their bottles’. ‘Oi, don’t worry’, he closed his eyes before standing up, walking towards the kitchen, ‘Here’.

Jean placed the bottles in front of you on the table. You could see his hand was shaking again, causing you to worry.

‘Jean? Are you alright?’, you handed Marco to him when you noticed he held out his arms for his son, ‘Ai, of course’. You could see he was lying, leading you to close your eyes while sighing again. ‘Did you have another dream?’, you softly sighed before bending over to pick up the other bottle from the table. ‘I said I’m fine Y/N, don’t worry’, Jean looked at you while sitting on a chair in the kitchen.

You could see his eyes soften when he looked at his son, carefully stroking his cheek before placing a kiss on his head. The sight of him holding Marco or Sasha like that always made you smile.

‘What do you say Sasha?’, you smiled at your daughter who was eagerly drinking from the bottle you were holding, ‘Do we believe Papa?’.

Jean raised an eyebrow in response, wondering what you were up to again.

‘No, I don’t believe him either’, you smirked at Jean. ‘Oi Y/N, I said I’m fine, what else could you possibly want?’, Jean rolled his eyes. ‘You say you’re fine, but I know you’re not. Your side of the bed was cold again. I could hear you pacing in your study for hours. Why can’t you just talk to me about your nightmares? We’ve gone through the same things, haven’t we? We fought beside each other; we lost the same people; we both saw the same injuries; we both murdered-‘, you clenched your teeth at the memories of all the people you killed to protect the people you loved. ‘Why do you treat me like an outsider?’.

Jean’s mind was racing. You could see he had a fight going on inside his mind, debating whether he should open up to you or not. Jean wasn’t the same, happy, stubborn kid he used to be. Ever since his friend Marco died, he became more of a leader, but he was still Jean. But after Sasha died, after Eren… He wasn’t the same anymore, but neither were you.

‘I’m sorry’, he closed his eyes, ‘I don’t want to bother you with my misery’, he chuckled. ‘Misery? Really?’, you placed the now empty bottle back on the table, holding Sasha close to you, ‘I tell you about my nightmares and episodes, don’t I? You comfort me every time, right? Why can’t you let me do the same for you? Are you afraid I won’t love you anymore? Or are you afraid once you talk about them, they might become real?’.

You could see Jean lowering his eyes when you spoke your last sentence. Hinting that was probably the answer. You knew because you often felt the same. When you had nightmares about losing the twins in war, or seeing Connie or Armin trampled upon by Titans, you didn’t dare to talk about it. It felt like once you did, it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy, even though there weren’t Titans anymore, even though there was peace.

‘I’m afraid of losing my family’, Jean’s eyes met yours, ‘I’m still so afraid Y/N. I thought once the war was over it would go away, but it feels like I’m going insane’.

You slowly stood up from the couch, trying to calm down Sasha, who suddenly started crying.

‘I feel the same, especially when our lovely daughter keeps crying at night’, you closed your eyes when you thought about all the sleepless nights you had because of the twins. ‘Want to visit Levi’s tea shop today?’, you turned around with a smile, ‘It’s been a while since we saw the Capt-‘, you paused before correcting yourself, ‘I mean Levi. It’s still a habit to call that shorty Captain’, you smirked at your husband. ‘Oi, don’t call him shorty when we see him, he would still beat your ass’, Jean replied while getting up too, ‘Let’s get the strollers’.

---

You were walking next to Jean, looking at the shops next to you.

‘Oi Jean, wouldn’t that be nice for the twins?’, you stopped in front of a shop where baby clothing was displayed behind the window.

‘Ai, they would look cute in those’, a hand grabbed your shoulders.

You were startled by the unexpected touch. ‘Connie’, you smiled while turning around.

Of course, Connie was already standing next to Jean, both laughing at your reaction.

‘Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want’, you rolled your eyes, ‘Want to join us for tea at the Captain’s-‘, you closed your eyes again at your mistake, ‘At Levi’s tea shop?’. ‘No, I’m going to have a drink with Niccolo’, he waived away your offer, ‘But thanks for inviting me’. ‘Oi Connie, thanks for inviting me to your date with Niccolo’, Jean was obviously annoyed. ‘I didn’t think you would have time… You know with the twins’, Connie smiled while playfully waving at Marco, ‘Maybe I’ll visit this weekend, if that’s alright’, Connie looked at you for approval, which you gladly gave. ‘Wouldn’t want them to forget their coolest uncle’, he nonchalantly placed his hands in his pockets before walking away, ‘Don’t worry Jean, I’ll invite you next time’.

‘Fool’, Jean gritted through his teeth, ‘He could have at least asked me’. You couldn’t help but giggle at his jealous behavior. ‘Oi, don’t laugh’, he looked at you with his brows frowning, ‘It’s not funny’. ‘Oi, oi, oi, don’t worry honey. I’ll always invite you’, you winked at him.

---

‘I’ve never seen Levi so happy’, you smiled while looking at your husband who was again sitting on the balcony. ‘Ai, he seems at peace’, Jean lowered his eyes, ‘It feels like he has finally accepted his injuries’. ‘Hm’, you smiled with sad eyes, ‘I’m putting the twins to bed’. ‘Wait’, Jean quickly stood up from his chair, ‘I’ll put them to bed today’. ‘Huh?’, you tilted your head at his sudden reaction, ‘O-okay, I’ll pour you some scotch’, you said softly before walking towards the kitchen.

---

‘Jean? Everything alright?’, you whispered while walking through the hallway towards the twins’ room, ‘You’ve been with them an awfully long time’.

No reaction. Your mind started racing, did something happen? Was one of the twins sick? No, he probably didn’t hear you, after all, you were whispering… but you didn’t want to wake the twins up if Jean was already in his study.

‘I’m sure Sasha would’ve tried to feed you meat already’, Jean’s rough voice echoed through the hallway once you got closer to their room.

You stopped walking. Your heart was breaking at the thought of Sasha and the last memory of her.

‘I wish you could see Connie with Sasha, they were quite the duo’, you could hear his voice breaking, ‘And Marco… Marco should’ve been the commanding officer, not me. He would’ve –‘.

You could hear Jean softly sobbing at the thought of his fallen comrades. You didn’t know what to do. Jean never cried in front of you before. Should you give him his space, or should you hold him? Comfort him? He was your husband, you should be there for him, right?

‘Jean?’, you softly pushed the door open.

You could see him quickly turning his head away from you, softly letting go of Marco’s crib before walking past you.

‘They’re sleeping Y/N, I’m going to my study’, he replied softly once he was in the hallway. ‘Jean, stop’, you grabbed his hand, ‘Talk to me, please’. ‘About what?’, he let his hand rest on the door of his study while looking at the ground, ‘I wanted to tell a story about Sasha and Marco to them. I want them to know how they were, about whom they’re named after but-‘, you could see him closing his eyes, clenching his jaw before opening the door, ‘I couldn’t.

You could see he wanted to enter his study, to walk away from this conversation, but you weren’t going to let him. Not this time.

‘Jean’, you grabbed his hand, ‘We’ll tell them together. You don’t have to go through this alone. Connie talks about Sasha all the time to-‘, ‘Ai, Connie does’, Jean lowered his eyes, ‘Why does it feel like Connie picked his life back up and I didn’t? Why does it feel like I’m still living in the past Y/N?’. ‘What do you mean? We got married, you have two beautiful children, you’re drinking the finest liquor, like you’ve always wanted-‘, ‘And it still isn’t enough Y/N’, Jean interrupted you.

You looked confused at your husband, trying to understand what he meant. Were you not good enough? Is the life he’s living right now not good enough for him?

‘I’m sorry’, he sighed while rubbing through his eyes with his thumb and index finger, ‘That came out wrong’. ‘W-what do you mean? Aren’t you happy with me? With the twins? Isn’t this the life you’ve always dreamt of?’, your voice started to shake. ‘No Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that’, he shook his head while placing his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, ‘You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you, the twins…’.

You could feel Jean’s hand moving towards your cheek, his eyes soft again.

‘I’ve told you so many times how I’ve felt the first time I saw you back at the Training Corps. How I’ve been under your spell ever since; how hurt I was when I thought you had a crush on Connie instead of me’. You chuckled at the memories. You could still see Jean screaming at his best friend, telling him not to flirt with you during training. ‘Poor Connie’, you smiled, ‘He didn’t even know you had a crush on me’. ‘Tch, he should’ve. Everyone else knew… With how much I talked about you’, Jean let his fingers rest on your collarbone before tilting your head so that you were looking up at him. ‘You know how happy I am with you, how lucky I feel for having you and the twins…’. ‘Then why isn’t it enough?’, a sad smile appeared on your face, hands resting against Jean’s chest.

You could see that Jean was trying to find the right words, that he was trying to figure out what he meant when he spoke those words.

‘I thought I would’ve felt better after all those years Y/N, but the deaths, the fear… It still haunts me’. ‘It still haunts all of us’, you said softly, ‘Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Levi, … Do you really think they can sleep peacefully at night? Because I know for a fact they don’t’.

Jean didn’t reply. You could feel him putting his walls back up. His eyes, the way he clenched his jaw. He was done with the conversation.

‘Let’s have a drink’, you smirked while grabbing his wrist, pulling him behind you, ‘But I want to be in my stud-‘, ‘And I want to have a drink with my husband before he locks himself away again’, you intertwined your hand in his.

It’s not that you minded Jean spending a lot of time in his study, but you worried about him. He would lock himself away for entire nights. It wasn’t healthy anymore.

---

‘Y/N?’, Jean’s voice broke through the silence while placing his glass back on the table. ‘Yes?’, you replied before enjoying the burning sensation of the scotch streaming down your throat. ‘Let’s have dinner tomorrow. Just us two. We’ll let Connie or Mikasa watch the twins. It’s been too long since we went out together, just us two’. ‘I would love to’, you lowered your eyes, a small smile on your face, ‘What about Niccolo’s restaurant? I would love to go there’. Jean’s eyes met yours in response, ‘As long as you’re joining me, I don’t care where we go’. Jean gently placed his hand on your thigh, softly pinching it, ‘Earlier, when I said that it’s not enough, that I still feel scared … You know I didn’t mean you, right? You’re more than enough, you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. To be honest, I feel kind of bad for saying stuff like that’.

Jean’s free hand started scratching the back of his neck, his eyes looked at the ground in embarrassment.

‘I know’, you replied, ‘You don’t have to feel bad. I’m relieved you finally talked to me’.

---

‘Oi Y/N, if you ever bring that up again-‘, ‘What?’, you smirked at your husband, cheeks red from laughing, ‘You’re not going to do anything’. ‘Don’t push me’, Jean smiled before calling the waiter.

‘Could we get another bottle of wine please?’, Jean asked the waiter. ‘Ai! Chef Niccolo has a nice bottle ready for you two’, the young boy smiled back at your husband, ‘I’ll be back in a minute’.

‘Tch’, Jean closed his eyes while smiling, ‘Stop smirking like that’. ‘I just can’t help it’, you burst out in laughter, ‘I’m sorry, but you were so embarrassed when I caught you staring at me’. ‘Anyone would’ve been embarrassed’, Jean replied while rolling his eyes. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have watched me while I was showering then’. ‘Oi Y/N, stop’, you noticed Jean was blushing at the memory, ‘I was 17’. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry’, you took another sip from your wine, ‘At least now you join me’. ‘I’m your husband, I can join you whenever I want’, ‘Oh?’, you raised an eyebrow, ‘Whenever you want?’. ‘Ai, why are you acting like this’, he said annoyed, ‘You’re mine, right? I can do whatever I wa-‘, ‘Watch it’, you said with a smug face before taking another bite of your dessert.

‘This one’s on the house’, the young waiter smiled before placing the bottle of red wine on the table, ‘Enjoy!’. ‘Thank you’, Jean smiled back at him before filling up your glass.

---

‘J-jean, you’re going to have to carry me’, you hiccuped, desperately clutching onto Jean’s arm, ‘I’m going to have such a bad hangover in the morning’, you giggled. ‘Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to put on your coat? It’s freezing’, ‘Freezing?’, you looked confused at your husband, ‘It’s not cold!’.

You were walking home with Jean, the moonlight greeted your skin. You wondered how Jean could walk straight after having so much wine.

‘Oi’, you narrowed your eyes, ‘Aren’t you drunk?’. ‘Tch’, Jean smirked, ‘I’m not weak, like you. I can handle my booze’, he proudly spoke to you, his thumb pointing at his chest. ‘Oh fuck you Jean’, you gently pushed him while smiling, ‘Don’t act like you won something’. ‘If it were a competition, I would’ve won’, he looked at you from the corner of his eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah, fine’, you waived his words away, ‘But don’t be so smug about it, or do I need to bring up another embarrassing-‘, ‘No!’, he clenched his jaw, ‘Let’s talk about something else’.

---

‘Hm’, you grunted out in pain, covering your eyes with the sheets. ‘What’s wrong princess?’, Jean’s smug voice echoed through the room, ‘You were acting so tough yesterday’. ‘Please’, you pressed your eyelids together, ‘Close the curtains’. ‘Oh, come now princess’, Jean sat down on the covers next to you, ‘It’s such a beautiful day today’. ‘Why are you acting so cocky? What did I do?’, you carefully removed the blanket so that you could look at your husband, one eye still closed. ‘Oh you don’t remember, huh?’, Jean smirked, arms folded, ‘You were so proudly announcing that you wouldn’t need my help today, that you were going to be just fine because you’re ‘way tougher’ than me’. ‘That’s not true!’, you snapped at him, ‘I told you I would feel bad in the morning’. ‘Ai, but that was before you decided to have some more liquor once you got home’. ‘Shit’, you grunted, quickly covering yourself with the sheets.

You could hear Jean chuckle before he got up again.

‘You’ve given me quite embarrassing stories to tell’, ‘No, I don’t want to hear them’, you sighed, ‘Please-‘, ‘How the tables have turned, right?’, Jean walked to the window, ‘You were so confident yesterday, laughing at stories of me in the Corps-‘, ‘Jean, close the curtains, please’, you begged him, ‘Begging me for something again?’. You tried to ignore the throbbing sensation in your head, ‘Jean, I really don’t want to hear what happened’. ‘Too bad princess’, you could feel Jean’s hand removing the blankets from your face, forcing you to look at him.

You hated that look on his face. The smug smirk. The look he had when he knew he had you where he wanted to.

‘Please Jean’, he imitated your voice with a smile, ‘Please I want you, right here, right now’. ‘Jean I swear to God-‘, you clenched your jaw, trying to cover your blushing cheeks with the blanket, but he wouldn’t let you. ‘Oh princess, no need to be embarrassed’, he shrugged his shoulders, ‘I didn’t mind that you were throwing yourself at me’. ‘Fuck you Jean’, you quickly turned your back to him. ‘Don’t’ worry, I’ll tell you all about it once you’re feeling better princess’, Jean walked over to the table in your room, ‘But for now, enjoy your breakfast’.

You doubtfully looked over your shoulder, hoping Jean wasn’t joking.

‘I-is that for me?’, you slowly sat up straight, trying to minimize the pain in your skull. ‘Ai, if you’re not too nauseous’, Jean placed the plate on your lap.

Jean had prepared a bowl of fruit, a cup of coffee, some fresh orange juice, and some eggs with bacon for you.

‘I’m not feeling sick at all, only my head hurts’, you forced a smile on your face. ‘Good’, he smiled, ‘Then enjoy your breakfast princess’, Jean placed a kiss on your forehead. ‘Thank you’, you looked embarrassed at your husband, ‘I don’t know what I would do without you’. ‘Don’t worry’, Jean smiled before getting up, ‘I’m going to get the twins, I’ll be back soon’. ‘Hm’, you smiled, ‘I hope Connie hasn’t given them too much sugar, I can’t handle 2 hyperactive toddlers today’. ‘Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll take care of everything today’, Jean placed a small peck on your lips, ‘After all, you’ve taken care of me all night’. You widened your eyes, cheeks blushing, ‘Yeah, yeah, just go’, you replied grumpily. ‘As you wish princess’, Jean playfully bowed before you, ‘Your wish is my command’.

#fanfic #fanfiction #aot fanfiction #attack on titan #jean x reader #jean aot #jean kirschtien #attack on titan jean #jean kirstein #jean x y/n #jean x you #jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschtein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean attack on titan #jean kirschtein

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grandhotelabyss · 1 month

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Just rereading Gerald Murnane's 'In Praise of the Long Sentence' and it got me wondering what your favorite sentences were — of other people's work, and of your own

I generally take note of passages more than single sentences, even long ones, but I will single out the almost page-long penultimate sentence of DeLillo's Underworld as perhaps my favorite long sentence (you can read it without "spoiling" the novel, which has no plot, but it does pick up phrases and motifs from earlier in the book that give it some of its power):

And you can glance out the window for a moment, distracted by the sound of small kids playing a made-up game in a neighbor’s yard, some kind of kickball maybe, and they speak in your voice, or piggyback races on the weedy lawn, and it’s your voice you hear, essentially, under the glimmerglass sky, and you look at the things in the room, offscreen, unwebbed, the tissued grain of the deskwood alive in light, the thick lived tenor of things, the argument of things to be seen and eaten, the apple core going sepia in the lunch tray, and the dense measures of experience in a random glance, the monk’s candle reflected in the slope of the phone, hours marked in Roman numerals, and the glaze of the wax, and the curl of the braided wick, and the chipped rim of the mug that holds your yellow pencils, skewed all crazy, and the plied lives of the simplest surface, the slabbed butter melting on the crumbled bun, and the yellow of the yellow of the pencils, and you try to imagine the word on the screen becoming a thing in the world, taking all its meanings, its sense of serenities and contentments out into the streets somehow, its whisper of reconciliation, a word extending itself ever outward, the tone of agreement or treaty, the tone of repose, the sense of mollifying silence, the tone of hall and farewell, a word that carries the sunlit ardor of an object deep in drenching noon, the argument of binding touch, but it’s only a sequence of pulses on a dullish screen and all it can do is make you pensive—a word that spreads a longing through the raw sprawl of the city and out across the dreaming bourns and orchards to the solitary hills.

And then this, from early in Mrs. Dalloway, a sentence that opens the day-in-the-life novel out into immensities of time past and time future, is pretty unforgettable:

But there could be no doubt that greatness was seated within; greatness was passing, hidden, down Bond Street, removed only by a hand's-breadth from ordinary people who might now, for the first and last time, be within speaking distance of the majesty of England, of the enduring symbol of the state which will be known to curious antiquaries, sifting the ruins of time, when London is a grass-grown path and all those hurrying along the pavement this Wednesday morning are but bones with a few wedding rings mixed up in their dust and the gold stoppings of innumerable decayed teeth.

Among older classics, I love the first sentence of Emma, for which see Paglia's reading thereof—about how the sentence begins in the 18th century and ends in the 19th—in Sexual Personae:

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.

Favorite sentences in nonfiction? I love the rolling rhetorical thunder of the one from Ruskin's "Nature of Gothic" I recently read out in one of my Invisible College lectures:

And therefore while in all things that we see, or do, we are to desire perfection, and strive for it, we are nevertheless not to set the meaner thing, in its narrow accomplishment, above the nobler thing, in its mighty progress; not to esteem smooth minuteness above shattered majesty; not to prefer mean victory to honorable defeat; not to lower the level of our aim, that we may the more surely enjoy the complacency of success

I'm sure I'm forgetting things. Melville, Joyce, Faulkner, Bellow, Morrison. Shakespeare, the Bible. The last sentence of Suttree. That's what I have for now, though.

In my own work? My favorite sentence in Major Arcana, to cite only my latest production, is probably this, the conclusion of an early chapter:

The social worker kept saying Jakey had “died by suicide,” and, because she was insane by this point and couldn’t really breathe, she’d said, just to see if she could say something, “Isn’t it ‘committed’? ‘Committed suicide’?” and then the social worker with the mousy hair and the glasses had said, “Well, that implies it’s a sin,” and she’d answered with the question, “Isn’t it? Against life, I mean?” and the social worker who may once have been a sex worker had said, with pity in her eyes, “I’m sorry—are you very religious?” and Jessica Morrow had said, finally, “No. I don’t believe anything at all.”

If that's too sentimental, or too particular to its context, and not euphonious enough, try the sound effects in this one:

Her head spun, rung, drummed; her stomach churned, burned, surged.

Or this, from an early description of the city called Cosmopolis:

The older buildings, the banks and department stores from the first part of the century, held runic messages on their friezes; strange demons nestled, staring, from their eaves and buttresses; masonic mysteries hid in the upper air.

#creative writing #literature #gerald murnane

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the-masked-ram · 6 months

Text

Blurred Lines- Chapter Three

CW: NSFW, College AU, Roommate AU, Dom/Sub Undertones, Gambling, Friends with Benefits, Enemies to friends, Hate sex, Impact play, Mild Breath play, Drugs, Alcohol, afab! reader

See more content like this with months of early access, all original content, and artwork on my patreon

---

Chapter Three: The Sandwich is a Lie

Classes had been kicking your ass if you were honest. As someone who majored in environmental studies, who eventually wanted to help work to change the world for the better, your classes were many and exhausting. Add your work to that, and now taking care of Touya’s housework and food, and you were running on very little sleep.

The thing was, what you thought would be easy when it came to keeping the flat clean, was just another front Touya put on. If he had been left to his own devices, the apartment would never had been that clean to begin with. He had apparently been paying for a maid service.

No, the usual amount of filth, dirty laundry, junk lying around, and just general grossness, was astronomical. It’s like he didn’t know how to pick up after himself or didn’t care to. More likely the second. The meal planning at least was normal and stuck right to the rules and expectations.

However, because of your lack of sleep, you’d forgotten about the whole confusion and worry of who Touya really was, not just his name since you were positive you’d heard it before, but also why he was so secretive. You were running yourself ragged, and in the process sleeping far deeper and longer than you usually did when you actually managed to catch a few hours. Your alarm was not working as well anymore and often you either missed it or swiped it to turn off instead of snooze.

Thankfully the day you truly overslept, so much so that minutes turned into hours, was a day you didn’t have class- thank you flu season- and didn’t have work. So, you didn’t wake from paranoia plaguing your dreams, no… instead you were awoken by your incredibly rude, asshole of a roommate banging open your door and sitting on you.

Touya expected you to follow the rules, but he tended to take liberties with them a lot of the time. It’s a wonder how he hadn’t walked in on you naked yet.

You flailed awake, only to realize that your squirming body was pinned down by an annoyingly heavy weight, so you rolled, and he fell up against the wall on the other side of your body.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing, Touya?” you snarled, voice still gravelly with sleep but clearly conveying your irritation.

“Me? I was just worried about my wonderful roommate, obviously. I mean usually she’s up at the crack of dawn and today she’s almost slept in ‘til noon,” his blue eyes glittered mirthfully.

You rubbed a hand across your eyes as you checked you phone, he was right it was almost twelve. Damn, you’d wasted so much time. But you body wasn’t aching like before. You were surprised he hadn’t come in earlier.

“Did you just wake up too? And realize there wasn’t any coffee or something?” you groaned as you sat up, the shirt that you’d worn to bed twisting and exposing your cleavage.

“Naw, I’ve been up for hours now,” he said, eyes narrowing and sliding across your skin so obviously that you couldn’t ignore it even in your sleepy state.

“Touya… Can you go wait for me outside my bedroom?” you asked patiently.

He hummed, but moved off the bed, probably in the most inconvenient way. He rolled over you, taking care to brush about every inch of his body over yours that he could without it seeming too obvious. Though honestly, he didn’t succeed in staying incognito. Sometimes he was such a jerk, he had to know how he affected you. You felt your heart ramp up eagerly, and you sighed, flopping back against the pillow until you heard the door click shut.

“Asshole,” you groaned as you covered you face with your arm.

Your life with Touya had become very strange. He now openly flirted with you, not just eye fucking you. It was becoming harder and harder to keep your cool around him as he continued to up the ante. You couldn’t deny that, though you had very little time to yourself, you had far more money than you’d had in ages, and you were actually saving a small amount every week. Also, you were eating actual food.

You definitely felt grateful he’d let you sleep in. It would be rather normal for your roommate to wake you up when he’d awoken and then you’d be even more sleep deprived. You wondered if he’d noticed how exhausted you’d been lately. Snorting in amusement you stood and slipped on a pair of sleep shorts. Even if he did, Touya wouldn’t let you sleep if he wanted you awake, it wasn’t his style.

You yawned, rubbing a knuckle across your eyes as you stumbled from your room. You half expected Touya to be waiting for you, maybe waiting to scare the shit out you. But he wasn’t, so you wandered into the bathroom to do your daily care routine and make yourself look mildly presentable for the day.

Touya was sprawled out on the couch texting aggressively on his phone. He glanced up when you walked in, and once again you could feel the prickling heat of his teal eyes wander over your legs. You suppressed a shiver, refusing to let him have the satisfaction of affecting you.

“Ah, I’m sorry I wasn’t up to make you a breakfast or lunch or anything,” you murmured sheepishly.

“There’s food leftover if ya want it?” he slurred lazily, rolling over to prop his chin on the arm of the sofa.

“Wha-?” you said and when you stepped into the kitchen you saw not just food left over but a plate carefully wrapped that held a simple meal.

It wasn’t anything special, just a sandwich with some fruit on the side. But it didn’t stop the warmth from unfurling in your chest, it didn’t stop you from biting your lip and breathing deeply to stop the sudden rush of overwhelming tears. You were exhausted, emotions threatening to break the dam, and here Touya was being… considerate? It wasn’t fair.

“Thank you,” you breathed, feeling like someone had punched you in the gut.

“It’s just a fuckin’ sandwich,” he mumbled, and you didn’t look over because you could hear the embarrassment in his voice.

“I know,” you whispered.

It was just a sandwich, but that single act of kindness meant he had noticed, and that he was a decent enough of a human being to want to ease your burden for a moment. To make that soothing rush of serotonin take over so that the rest of the week would go easier.

You grinned as you sat down and revered the sandwich as if it were a steak. While you slowly went about enjoying your first meal of the day, Touya joined you at the kitchen island. He stared at you for several minutes and for those several minutes you were able to ignore him, until he cleared his throat and you sighed.

“Yes, Touya?” you asked around the mouthful of bread and fillings.

“I have a party this weekend,” he responded.

Your chewing slowed as you sifted through your fogged memories, you knew there was something specific you should remember about this word. Party… There was something you didn’t like that was part of your--.

“You mean on the day I have off?” your eyes narrowed, subtle irritation tightening your muscles.

“Yeah, think so,” he murmured as if he didn’t have your schedule written out on his phone.

“So, what… was this sandwich some form of apology? Or some way to get me to comply with your stupid rule for the parties?” you aggressively took another bite.

“If you wanna see it that way, sure,” Touya shrugged, already turning back to his phone with narrowed eyes.

He was typing away on the screen before you even had a chance to snap back at him, instead choosing to finish off the food that had brought you such joy earlier. Even now though, you couldn’t deny the simple meal had tasted far better than it should have. Maybe you had been running yourself thinner than even you were aware.

Spending the night in your room, finishing up homework, watching a show, or reading a book might not be so bad. Perhaps Touya was giving you a blessing in disguise. Forcing your overworked mind and body to relax. Yet, you still felt a petty anger directed toward your roommate as you went back to your room to get dressed.

---

It was during coffee that day, with you good friends Mina and Tsuyu, gossiping and laughing away, that you learned once again the Todoroki name. Where you learned just who you were staying with. Suddenly, everything seemed to flip on its head, and you felt your hands clench on the cardboard cup you held, and it crushed under your fingers. What had you gotten yourself into?

-Taglist-

@arvandus

#bnha #mha #dabi x fem reader #touya todoroki #fanfiction #college au

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diabodobem · 11 months

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Victory

All stories begin with a hero, but they rarely end with them. Prophecies come and go, fulfilled or not, and the heroes, leftovers of fate, are abandoned by their destinies. Some resent this, some go for the hand that wrote their stories. Some even manage to kill god. This is the story of one of those heros who managed to see, find, and kill his god.

Seconds after the last flames were extinguished, Lanan stood on the battlefield victorious. The great evil once prophesised had just been defeated and there the hero stood over its ashes. That victory came only through a much greater sacrifice, one that only Lanan could have done. While all others cheered and celebrated, he kept his silence. Others had not lost what he had, others had not given what he had, for they were not the chosen one, he was. The thing about chosen ones is that they are never the ones to choose, only to be chosen. So as Lanan saw every smile on every face on that battlefield, his gut was filled with disgust and anger. Of course, everyone there had suffered under the great evil, but so had him, but more. Way more. Not only suffered, but fought, sacrificed. Lanan realised on that moment that he also lost. The chosen one was never meant to be a hero. He was nothing but a lamb put to slaughter. Someone had to be. He was the unlucky bastard. That’s it. The day the people of that land came to know as the Day of Victory was later remembered by him as the first day of his vengeance.

For there to be a chosen one, there must be something, someone choosing. If he was such chosen one, the warrior from the prophecy, someone had written it. Lanan then gathered all the powers he had conquered and learned through his journey and set sail to the Island of Manifest where the oracle had first told him about his prophecy. His supposed debt of responsibility to the world was paid. The war was over. Now is time for retribution. The long nights on board of his ship were spent imagining. Calculating, rehearsing. What would he ask? How would he make the oracle speak in straight terms? Was he guilty enough to deserve a drop of his vengeful poison? All those were carefully pondered before the sunrise. At noon, he was once again at the doors of the temple. He knocked and the servants came to his assistance. “What a wonderful surprise, milord!” they hissed. “Surprise? I thought I had knocked on the door of an oracle,” scarn in his voice, sword on his hip. “Well, what can I do for you, hero of the land?” The oracle stood in the usual dark spot, covered in a crimson veil. “Surely you do not come for another prophecy, there is no greater evil than the one you have just slayed,” he continued. “I come for your prophecy, yes. Not a new one, but the fulfilled. I must know who wrote it.” The crimson figure waived at a servant who hastily brought a book. Its cover was black as the new moon, its pages many and just as dark. Turning its pages produced a terrible sound, as if the book cried from being opened. “This,” the oracle solemnly said, “is the Book of Lies. Every oracle writes down every dream they have ever dreamt, every foreign thought lying in their heads, every whisper, every vision, every single thing out of the ordinary, all the signs we are taught to perceive. If it is to become truth, the page will cleanse it of its lies and become brighter, legible, fated. It was on this book that your prophecy was written by an oracle before me, many years ago. And it was I who saw its pages bleaching, demanding to be heard. So, if you search for the writer of your misfortune, you came to the wrong place, warrior. Oracles hear, they do not create. It was not here where your fortune was first conceived.” Lanan heard his words and stayed silent. The oracle had seen through him, his rage. Indeed, he was there to kill him for writing such prophecy, but now he stood enemyless. “If not you or your forefather, then who shall feel the steel of my blade?” For his surprise, the oracle laughed. A genuine laugh as one of an adult who hears a child babbling. “Your enemy, milord, is no other than God himself. Oracles hear his intention, write his will. We are his hands. We are his tools. If you bear suffering, it was his machination. Do you find yourself mighty enough to face your creator on the battlefield? Do you think you can make him bleed?” The warrior drew his sword that shone under the colourful lights of the vitrails. “Maybe if a start by cutting off one of his hands.”

#fiction #fallen hero #kill god #i dont know

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honeyonthemind · 1 month

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the captain𓆸

words: 478

characters: k.h. ft. c.s.

genre: drama thriller

sum: An intro to the boy who would be captain in the end of the beginning.

⚠: mention of death

(Inspired by 6_teh fanart! Specifically, the post captioned with 🌼🌼🌼 on their Instagram)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･♡ ̆̈°✰⋆˚˖°𓆤𔓘

Time... is a pain in the ass.

An illusion created by humankind to keep us from going mad. Yet, I cross the junkyards of broken things without caring if the days have passed by. It's safe to say that I have loose screws rolling around in my head.

But as I catch flowers and chase Blue Wings. I am reminded of the good in time. Every high noon to every twilight. Down to the seconds of my beating heart. I understand now.

Time is precious.

I tie up my hair. Overgrown but freshly dyed an aquamarine. I should have also searched for something sharp. I jump over the hood of my chunk of metal. Landing onto the other side with ease. The land surrounding me is lifeless. A thick fog of dirt and disease hover above. I recall my many stops before this. All similar. Dead.

I kick at the ground, sending rocks and dirt into the air. Frustrated, I pull at the tie, undoing my hair.

Strands of my dyed hair disturb my eyes. I huff. I walk back to my car and slip through the broken window. My hands grip the wheel. I breathe, trying to put out the fire that threatens to be unleashed. My temper is like a firecracker. Lit quickly, and I will explode into a rain of sparks.

I wonder back to the past. I wish to be there when my hair was less of a mess. Sucking on a cherry pop with a cap worn backwards. Starting new ideas and having the world at my control. Always with my backpack over spilling with lilacs.

When I was bored I would mark my belongings with skulls and Blue Wings. Better than writing my whole name.

Hongjoong.

I can sometimes still hear them. My lost family. They cry to me in my dreams. Scare me awake. The smokey scent lingers in my nostrils and throat.

I miss them some days.

I get out my head opting to start the car again. It roars to life, sputtering a bit. I put the gear into drive. Going forward, avoiding the poison gas. My orange tint goggles sway from their spot around the rear view mirror. They steal my attention for a millisecond.

When I dismiss them I am quickly caught off guard. I stomp on the brakes. A loud shrill fills my ears. I watch in horror as the vehicle stops inches away from the man. He slams his hands onto the rusted hood in surprise.

My heartbeat races while the kicked up dirt settles. I stick my head out of my window.

"Any serious damage?"

"You're years too late."

"Huh?"

The stranger raises his right arm. I gawk at what I'm seeing. Where flesh should be is replaced with steel parts. The man throws up a peace sign.

"Need a ride?" I nonchalantly ask.

#kim hongjoong #drama #dystopia #alternative universe #survival #friendship #platonic relationships #choi san #short one shot

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carlisles-girl · 3 years

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OMG UR CAIUS FIC WAS SO GOOD COULD YOU DO SOMETHING AB ARO PLEASE

a/n: Thank you so much! I’m very excited to write for Aro, he’s one of my favourite characters, more so because of Michael Sheen’s performance. I put a slight reference to something in this, you might catch it if you know other projects Michael Sheen has been in, but you might not, and that’s alright. Hope you enjoy <3

another a/n: I did put one or two feminine terms in this work, such as ‘mia regina’ which is ‘my queen’ in Italian, so do skip over it or replace it with something else if you’d like. I love writing this type of material in the middle of my classes, it adds so much adrenaline to not get caught.

Aro Volturi With A Human Mate

Instead of being angry and frustrated like Caius, Aro was more excited.

Like as if he was getting ready for a big party.

A human for a mate was inevitable for some vampires, of course, but Aro didn’t expect to be included in the some.

He was excited since it was rare for such high profile vampires to socialize with humans.

Aro often gushed to his brothers, excited to meet you, but also for them to meet you.

He wanted to host a ball for your welcome.

But Marcus noted that it would probably be slightly frightening for you to be in a room full of vampires.

Most of the vampires would look at you as if you were some sort of a snack.

Because it Marcus’ comment, Aro assumed it would be a greater choice to send an invitation to a tour of the castle.

Free of cost, of course.

When you had received the invitation, you were beyond excited.

An invitation to a tour of an ancient castle with endless legends, for free?

Absolutely.

The tour was the next day, so of course you were slightly nervous.

When the tour commenced, a very pretty woman named Heidi lead the tour group.

She began to speak of secrets of the castle, as well as secret corridors and legends.

Some things a normal tour guide would most likely have no idea about.

Heidi then looked in your direction, and smiled brightly at you.

“It’s very lovely here. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Just when she had finished her sentence, she opened the doors where there were three men sitting in thrones, and what seemed to be 4 guards.

The man who sat in the middle, greeted everyone and began speaking greatly of the castle.

He had only stopped when he motioned for your tour guide, Heidi, to come forward.

She did as told, and held her hand out towards him.

You would have thought it was to greet him, but it seemed like he was concentrated, or zoned out.

“Magnifico! I will get Demetri to escort them.” (Translation: “Magnificent! I will get Demetri to escort them.”

A man who you assumed was Demetri, walked in your direction.

“Come with me, all will be alright, rest assured. However, do not look behind you.”

You went with him, doing as he said, but immediately turned around when the rest of the tour began screaming.

“What the hell was that?!”

Demetri just grabbed your wrist and brought you upstairs.

“Just stay in here, I’ve been instructed to keep you under my eye. Aro will explain everything to you.”

“Aro?”

“The man who sat in the middle throne.”

You nodded, and decided to sit on one of the window seats.

You wanted to ask Demetri as many questions as you wanted to, but you didn’t want to bother him, or disrupt him from his job.

When the door had opened and Demetri bid his farewells, you had turned around and saw Aro.

“You must be Y/n, correct?”

“Yeah, and you’re Aro?”

“I am, I assume you have a good amount of questions?”

You nodded, and Aro moved swiftly but smoothly towards the opposite side of the window seat.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

He sat opposite to you, and smiled slightly at you.

“There’s no need to be afraid of me, or the others. You’re the most safe you could ever be in the castle. I promise you, I will keep you safe.”

“May I ask why the rest of the tourists were screaming when I left?”

“I sense that that question should be answered later, appropriately.”

You were slightly frightened as to what the final answer would be, it could be anything.

Perhaps there was a reenactment of the past after you had been escorted, one of the tourists got pushed and the rest screamed since one of them fell, or the worst:

They were murdered.

“I feel like I already know what happened.”

“I sense that you do know, too. I will tell you everything in a moment. But for now, would you care to lend me your hand?”

You trusted Aro, though you were positive your ancestors were screaming from above or below not to trust him.

You held your hand out in front of him, and before he held your hand in his own, he asked for permission or something else.

“I want you to think of the happiest memory you have stored in your mind, I will describe it to you. I will not see anything else besides the things you want to show me, unless I have your permission.”

You thought of a memory, and then placed your hand in Aro’s palm.

He covered the back of your hand with the palm of his other hand, then he began telling you small details of your chosen memories you had even forgotten about.

When he was finished, he brought his head up from looking down, and smiled at your face of bewilderment.

“That is so cool! Is that like your superhero power?”

Aro smiled widely at your interest in his gift, and began explaining what his was.

“I have a gift, it’s called tactile telepathy. I can read everyone’s thoughts and memories with a single touch. The others in this coven have multiple different gifts, they help keep us safe.”

“So you’re all like superheroes?”

“Vampires, darling.”

After that, Aro enjoyed seeing your memories whenever you two were apart for some sort of time.

Especially say you were having a difficult time attempting to explain something to him, he would hold your hand and immediately understand what you were trying to say.

“I understand you, cara mia. I always will.”

And he was right, he understands you in every way possible.

Aro memorized your body language on how you react to different things, as well as your facial expressions.

When you’re uncomfortable with something, he will do absolutely everything in his power to make you comfortable.

Aro will burn down the entire world for you.

When it’s time for you to go to sleep, you best believe that Aro set up the most lavish and comfortable room for you.

The best and most comfortable bed, of course.

You lay down on his chest, and he brushes the hair out of your face, admiring your tired eyes looking back at him.

“Would you like for me to read to you, dearest?”

You nodded your head, and Aro would get up from wherever he was seated, swiftly retrieve a book, lay back down next to you, and begin reading.

He loved having you hold his hand while he read, it lets him see what you’re imagining the scene that he’s reading to you.

And when you fell asleep while he was reading, he would be so very content.

You curled up next to him, sound asleep on his chest.

Aro adored seeing what you were dreaming.

He loved how humans brains worked while they were sleeping, keeping your mind entertained with multiple little scenarios.

When you woke up, however, Aro would prefer to have you describe your dreams, if you remembered them.

He loved to learn more about humans, especially in the modern age.

And you loved to learn more about vampires, especially in the ancient times.

Aro would often tell you stories of each coven he encountered, his old family and friends, and his past human life.

As much as he wants you to be changed into a vampire like the rest, he can’t help but smile whenever you got slightly nervous around him, stuttering over your words, and hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment.

He pays attention to little details about you.

Especially your eyes.

Even the shade of your eyes stops him from changing you. Your eyes wouldn’t be as unique anymore, they’d be the same red as everyone else’s.

“You have the most magnificent shade of colour in your eyes, mia regina. I simply cannot get enough of them.”

Being absolute best friends with Demetri.

But wherever Demetri was, Felix wasn’t too far behind.

You three are like a troublemaker trio, always causing trouble and pulling pranks on different members of the guard.

Never Jane or Alec, though. Unless it was a scheduled board game night or something along the lines.

Which Alec loved to take away different players senses, allowing him to cheat in the games you’d play.

He doesn’t do it all the time, though.

Marcus was a lot more welcoming towards you, perhaps more than anyone else.

Whenever Aro couldn’t, he’d show you different areas of the castle you hadn’t seen yet, and would give you wonderful pieces of advice along the way.

“Remember to stay true to yourself, never let anyone think for you.”

Aro will spoil you insanely.

If you mention a specific piece of clothing even once, you better expect that when you wake up the next morning, Aro has an elegantly wrapped package placed at the foot of your bed with a note written in fine handwriting.

“Mia amato, I have seen you speak of this article of fabric, and I have gone out of my way to make sure you have every little thing you admire. I need you to be the happiest you can possibly be. Please accept my gift, and meet me by the gardens by noon. I’ll see you then. Cordialmente, Aro.”

You two have annual walks throughout the garden, usually during golden hour. The sun still above, but setting at the same time, making it seem like Aro was made of a trillion Tiffany Yellow Diamonds.

He loved finding a flower that suited your mood for the day, and putting it behind your ear.

“My beautiful.”

You two often walked either arm in arm, or hand in hand, but sometimes you would hold him closer with your arm wrapped around his waist, your head leaning on his side or shoulder.

Often times, when the moon is visible, you would slow dance together, looking at each other with smiles on your faces, just appreciating each other’s presence.

Usually, Aro would come back into the castle around 2 in the morning, carrying your sleeping self up to your shared room, after you had fallen asleep on his shoulder while sitting in the garden.

The rest of the kings and guards would be predominantly more happy than from before you had arrived.

You had given Aro something to look forward to after trials and mountains of work, something he didn’t have for hundreds of years.

Though, Caius was still slightly jealous of you.

You had practically stolen one, if the not the most, needed member of the vampire world. Aro was nearly as focused on you than he was on trials and legislature.

He’d warm up to you eventually.

At least, you hoped.

Speaking of trials, you wanted to sit in and watch the trials, to see what it was about, and how it worked.

You knew the most of it, of course, Aro had already told you. But you wanted to see it live.

Aro was quick to say no, he didn’t want you to get hurt, or worse, killed.

He understood what would happen to him if his mate was killed, Marcus was the example. He couldn’t even bear the thought of you not being by his side.

Though, you owning the key to his heart, convinced him to let you watch, letting both Jane and Alec stay on either side of you, protecting you if anything were to go wrong.

You would usually sit on Aro’s lap, and then the throne when he had to see what was truly going on by using his gift.

Jane usually stood on the left of the throne, and Alec on the right.

Mainly since Caius sat on the throne in the left, and Jane loved to torture the criminals.

He loved the front seat view.

Constant look backs of reassurance to make sure that you’re alright.

Nearly always having your hand in his.

Forehead kisses.

Constantly bringing the back of your hand up to his lips.

Getting the absolute best care in the world, health wise especially.

When Aro proposed, it was in the bedroom the both of you share, and he was reading some poetry to you.

All was going swell, and then he got to one page.

“I can write no stately poem

As a prelude to my lay;

From a poet to a poem

I would dare to say.

For if of these fallen petals

One to you seem fair

Love will waft it till it settles

On your hair.

And when wind and winter harden

All the loveless land.

It will whisper of the garden,

You will understand.”

At the end, you were leaned up closer to him, looking at him in awe.

He closed the book, and placed it aside gracefully, before leaning slightly closer to you. Placing his hands overs yours.

“Do you remember who wrote that, cara mia?”

“I do. That’s Oscar Wilde, right?”

“That’s right. There’s so much I want to say to you, especially in this particular moment, but I don’t think there’s enough words to express my love and affection towards you. I’ve known you for a little while, and I can feel the bond between us, and I know you can feel it, too. The universe has guided us together, and I am so very thankful for every second we have spent together, and I’m even more thankful for the rest of eternity we have. However, I am the most thankful of the fact that I have the most gorgeous human as a mate. I love you so much, anima mia. Will you do me the best thing that could ever happen to me in my thousands of years, and marry me?”

You said yes, obviously, who wouldn’t?

You leaned over to press your lips against his, as he held one side of your face with one hand, and the other hand slid a ring on your ring finger.

While Aro wanted an extremely lavish wedding, with all the diamonds in the world, you wanted something more of a homely essence.

So you compromised, and had a bit of both.

Aro invited nearly every vampire to the wedding, wanting to show you off in every way he could.

The Denali’s, Cullens, Irish coven, everyone was invited.

Except for the Romanian coven, Vladimir and Stefan. Not trusting them to be in your presence.

The wedding was held in the garden, the arch where Aro stood had your favourite flowers intertwining around it, with diamonds pressed in the centre of each individual flower.

Demetri walked you down the isle, smiling proudly when he handed you over to Aro.

Proud that his leader had finally found true love, and that one of his best friends is finally where they need to be.

After the official wedding ceremony, the rest of the night and day were spent smiling and showing off each other to the guests.

When the night ended, it was finally time for you to be changed to a vampire.

Aro sat by the bed were sitting on, making sure that you were absolutely ready to be converted to a vampire for the rest of eternity.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

You nodded your head, and Aro took one final look into your coloured eyes, attempting to remember every small detail of them.

Aro then moved your hair away from your neck, before placing his lips over where he would finally bite down and turn you immortal.

“Just say when, and I’ll see you after.”

#twilight x reader #twilight preferences #twilight #twilight imagine #aro volturi #aro twilight #volturi preferences #volturi kings #aro #volturi #aro volturi imagine #aro volturi x reader #aro volturi oneshot #twilight aro #volturi oneshot #volturi imagine

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mjolnir-steve · 3 years

Text

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair.

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too.

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot.

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you.

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings.

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night.

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work.

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.”

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder.

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d.

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?”

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides.

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

#shamelesshoesforchris2021 #maggie's writing #frank adler #frank adler x fem!reader #frank adler fluff #frank adler smut

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madametrashbin · 3 years

Text

Wishful Dreaming

In which I pretend Part 3 of Inazuma’s story doesn’t exist and everyone is alive before shit goes down. Yes, people who read this, it’s time for best friend headcanons/drabbles/whatever the hell this is with Teppei. Honestly, it’s just no thoughts head empty right now and I might have gone off tangent a lot.

(And by a lot, I mean the majority of this piece, probably... by the way, credits to @streimiv and @myuni-moon for making my brain be hyper focused on Self Aware Cult Genshin... I can’t get it out of my head as of right now.)

Enjoy, even if it’s never going to be beta-read by anyone and I will never go back to edit this even if I find mistakes in this later on... and I also don’t know where my brain went for this, but what’s done is done.

I’m not even sure if I did his personality correctly, ahaha... (；^ω^)

(I’m going to project my denial in this, so please know it might be wince inducing and incredibly self-indulgent.)

The sun is bright at this time of day, the gentle breeze flowing through the tranquil lands of Inazuma, leaving those who are experiencing the nice morning in a blissful escape from its current reality.

...much like a young foreigner who had left their current abode, leaving behind a note for their caretakers to see as they wander around the land of Eternity for some true fresh air and peace of mind away from the group that had more or less made their life a little too suffocating as of late.

It is also incredibly lonely in there, as they come to understand that no one (for the most part) look at them like they were a regular human... like they were them.

So they now wander, taking in the rarity of solitude that does not come as easily as one might think. Inazuma is beautiful, even if they know that the peace they see around these parts are but a veil that shields the horrible reality going on around them.

(They know what was happening outside the city, outside the teapot they were living in since they were brought here. They’ve experienced it happening before, many times in fact. They know what will happen, and they’re determined to change it. They just need to find a certain someone, and then they’re set.)

Meeting Teppei was something you didn’t really expect all that much, considering you knew he should be still a part of the logistic division of the Resistance Army and would be busy in their current base that was all the way to Yashiori Island.

Yet by sheer luck, or by fate, you meet the good fellow on Narukami Island and had managed to make a pretty good friendship with him over the course of coincidental meetings.

You’ve come to learn a few things about the young man, and it was that he was a pretty trusting guy, didn’t even think twice of being friends with you... which was a little worrisome, considering what happened in the actual storyline.

That’s okay though, you’ll make nothing happens to him... he is one of your only true friends in this world, after all.

“Teppei.”

They call to him as the Resistance Samurai turned his head away from the sight of the Tenshukaku to them.

“Is there anything you wish for? I mean, if you could have one wish granted, anything you want, what would it be?”

The young man looked rather confused at them, before they briefly clarified that they were just curious. As much as they enjoy the peacefulness of silence, they wanted to know what he really wanted... wondering if he really wanted a Vision, for the acknowledgement of the Gods.

“What would I wish for...”

The young man was quiet for a while, no doubt mulling it over before smiling when he comes to an answer, his head lifting to look at the glimmering stars.

“I would wish for the war to end... for the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree to be abolished so people won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Really? Not a Vision, or something like that?”

“Well, having a Vision would be nice, but thinking about it... I think it’s better if everyone is happy. A lot of people are suffering, and even if I did get a Vision, it’s still pretty difficult to win the war against the Shogunate.”

They could only hum quietly in understanding after that, not really certain what else to ask him before he gives them the same question.

What do they wish for?

To go home. They would have said, but they chose not to because they knew there was probably little chance for them to be allowed to go home... Their “acolytes” are rather over-protective and notably possessive towards them, probably rampaging around Inazuma right now in search of them.

Well, they at least know what they’re going to do once they inevitably find them.

“Isn’t it time you should head back to your camp, Teppei?”

“Huh? Oh, right! It’s getting late! Then, if I have time, I’ll see you again!”

And he’s off in a rush, disappearing when he turned around the rocky walls and out of their sight. At the same time as he left, the bushes behind them rustle, and a frantic Zhongli appears with Venti following behind... both relaxed significantly once they saw them in perfect condition.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace. It’s dangerous for you to go outside on your own like that.”

“Please don’t worry us like that again.”

They immediately take to their sides, quickly ushering them to head back to the Teapot before they stopped them in their tracks.

“Your Grace?”

“I need to do something. Will the both of you accompany me for this?”

...and by the following morning, an official announcement is made to all of Inazuma with the abolishment of both the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree.

Teppei is rushing over to them with a beaming smile on his face when they meet again that noon, the young man happily shares the good news with them while they simply smiled and nodded along with what he said even if they knew the reason behind it.

They don’t tell him anything, nor mention that it was thanks to him that it ended... well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Extra, because why not:

It becomes a frequent part of your days now that the War in Inazuma was over. Hanging out with Teppei as often as you could, granted you’d have a few people trailing in the shadows at all times, watching over you so you don’t pull the same stunt again.

You have to spend a bit of time giving warning glares behind you whenever Teppei mentions the cold chills that makes his bones shiver despite the relatively warm weather.

When the two of you get roped up into a bit of trouble (whether by lingering Fatui grunts, stray Ronins or local Treasure Hoarders seeking to rob you), Teppei would always jump in between you and them, saying he’ll protect you as he holds his spear (that he brings with him out of habit).

...you thinks it’s endearing with how he’s trying to be brave, as you can see his hands shake just a tad bit due to the numbers.

But as much as you want to let him have his moment, you prefer that your friend doesn’t get himself hurt and therefore skillfully lead him away from the danger while the rest (your cult) dealt with them.

When you feel like the divine treatment is starting to get too overwhelming, and you’re feeling a little too lonely, you always make your way to Teppei who is there to provide comfort even if you never really talked about what’s troubling you.

Your friendship with Teppei is strong, even if you rarely talk about yourself to him and how he’s told you practically everything about himself.

There’s just something about that trust that bring you a lot of comfort... it gave a different feeling compared to Zhongli or Fischl’s kind of trust... it was warmer, and felt more like home.

You’re also very adamant in keeping him away from the whole cult business, not wanting him to think of you like how the others did... you don’t want to lose that friendship that practically kept you sane in this world.

The amount of times you have to keep reminding your cult to leave him be is absurd, and as much as they protest about him, the fact you’re upset at them for that is enough to get them to stop.

...for a while, at least. They go at it again for a while when Teppei does something they don’t like until you actually snapped at them. They stopped bothering him after that.

If Teppei does eventually find out about the cult, which will most likely happen because of Kokomi, you would be genuinely terrified in the beginning of it until he gives you proper reassurance that it doesn’t change anything.

Now he’s allowed to see you in the Teapot, often visiting with curious snacks he finds and occasionally sleeping over when you are feeling particularly lonely.

Overall, a very pleasant friendship to have. Being one of the few you can really be open with and not be concerned about how you’re viewed as.

Wholesome boy will always have your back whenever you need him... even if he is a little intimidated by the Raiden Shogun and the other intimidating acolytes that are a part of your cult.

#self aware genshin #genshin cult stuff #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #I believe in platonic friendships #I have no braincells left #it was 12am when I started writing this #I barely slept before that too #idk what to tag honestly #tagging is hard #*dramatically screaming*

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xxxsweetdreamzxxx · 3 years

Text

warnings/tags: dom!Jaehyun sub!reader, fanfic, smut; cursing, hook up, fingering, cunninilingus, unprotected sex, cream pie

summary: a chance meeting while shopping for bathing suits turns your summer vacation a little hotter

word count: 4.4k (help)

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this was interesting to write as the beginning and ending are based off of separate dreams this time, so hopefully I was able to link them in a way that made sense. please enjoy!!

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"How does this look?" You asked your friend Jamie, holding a skimpy neon bikini set to your body.

It was the first full day of your annual summer beach trip with your bestie, and you'd arrived in the seaside town you always traveled to late last night. After eating a mediocre breakfast provided by your hotel, the two of you had headed to a nearby mall to buy new swimsuits. She'd had luck finding one relatively quickly. But the reason you were still there, on the second story of a large department store several hours later, was because you had yet to.

She made a face. "No offence, but it's not really your style..."

Sighing, you put it back on the rack. "I know."

Rounding the stand that contained the bikini you'd just put back, you briefly glanced over at the neighboring section, which had swim trunks. Movement had caught your eye, caused by three guys walking through. You barely even paid attention to them at first glance, but the one in the back caught your eye, and you did a double take.

At this second glance, you saw they were all young, probably close to your age, and very attractive. 'Are they models?' You wondered. But again, it was the one behind the first two that really made you look on in awe. He had muted fluffy purple hair that covered his forehead, and dark eyes that shone like diamonds even from this distance. His soft features and perfect skin made you wonder if he was an angel. His thin white shirt hugged what was probably toned muscle underneath. When the taller of his two friends said something funny, he smiled and oh my God, he had the cutest dimples.

At that moment, he shifted his eyes up and saw you standing there, staring. Like a deer caught in headlights you froze, embarrassed as fuck you'd been caught. But his smile only widened, and he gave you a slight nod in greeting.

Ripping your gaze away, you acted like nothing had happened and tried to return to shopping.

"Oh wow y/n, you saw those guys right?" Jamie exclaimed, following you. "Now that's what I'd call eye can-"

You interrupted her, face flushed, by holding up a pale blue gingham bikini. "What about this?"

Before she could answer, her eyes focused on something behind you, mouth falling open slightly. A deep voice then responded to your question. "I think it looks cute."

You whipped around, only to come face to face with the man you couldn't keep from staring at. Your eyes widened and you gulped, startled. Up close, he was simply breathtaking. Literally; you felt your breathing become strained as your heart pounded in your chest.

"Th- Thank you, um..?" You stuttered before taking a deep breath.

"Jaehyun." He answered.

"Ah, Jaehyun." Damn, even his name was cute. You gave him a shaky smile. "So I should get it?"

"Definitely." He encouraged. He then looked to Jamie, who'd been speechlessly watching the exchange. "What do you think?"

Turning around, you waited to see her response. After looking between the two of you for a couple of seconds, she grinned and gave a thumbs up. You weren't sure if she was approving of the bathing suit or...

"Hey, what are you guys doing the rest of today?" Jaehyun asked.

"Oh, not much." You replied quickly, not planning to elaborate.

"We'll just be at the beach!" Jamie said louder and at the same time, speaking over you. "Wanna come with?"

You gave her a look, trying to shut her up. She looked back at you as if to say 'what?'

He smiled. "Sure. Let me ask the boys if it's okay with them."

He beckoned the two of them over, who didn't hesitate to comply. Jamie introduced you and her to the group, as you were still majorly distracted by the million thoughts running through your head. The tallest of the three then introduced himself as Johnny, a friendly guy with a round face and sculpted arms that were on full display thanks to the tank he wore. The other was Mark, who shyly said hi to you and Jamie. He had a boyish and youthful aura about him that made you immediately assume he was the youngest. They both readily agreed to head to the beach.

Still not fully registering what had just happened, you walked to the check out in a near trance and bought your swimsuits. Then you exited the mall, and made your way to the parking lot. Jaehyun went to get his car while the rest of you waited at Jamie's. When he pulled up, the guys got in. After quickly entering her car with her, Jamie pulled out of the parking lot and followed them as they lead the way to the beach.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked, taking her eyes off the road for a split second to glance at your face. Your prolonged silence had prompted her to speak.

You removed yourself from your racing thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just surprised."

She grinned. "Well, today's not gonna be boring, that's for sure. It'll be a lot more eventful than if we'd hung out at the beach by ourselves."

You nodded in agreement. You knew there wasn't much harm in doing this - there would be plenty of people on the beach around you - they couldn't try anything. And besides, you didn't even get those vibes from them. That wasn't what made you uneasy. It was the thought of spending a day at the beach with such attractive guys that made the tips of your ears turn pink and your heart rate increase. You just prayed you wouldn't say or do something utterly embarrassing.

Jamie drove into the public beach parking behind their car, parking a few spaces away from them. Exiting the car, you and her first made your way to the bathrooms to change. This beach was well maintained, a stone walkway lead to them and then continued on and up to a wide bridge that arched over the barrier dunes and then down onto the sand. Palm trees provided shade, which was made good use of as it seemed wherever a tree cast a shadow there was a cool bench to sit.

Locking yourself into a stall in the women's bathroom, you undressed and then pulled on your brand new swimsuit. Thankfully, despite not being able to try it on in the store, it fit extremely well. The gingham pattern, pale blue color, and small ruffles on the waistband and straps made you conclude this was the cutest bikini you'd ever seen. Exiting the stall, you briefly peered into the mirror above the sinks to pull your hair into two low pigtails.

Turning back around, you found Jamie standing there in her new suit, smiling at you.

"Ready y/n?" She asked.

You took a breath before replying. "Yep."

Arm in arm, you walked out to meet the boys, who'd already changed and were standing there waiting, beach bags in hand. Johnny got excited as he spotted you both and practically ran towards beach, Mark trying to keep up with him. Jaehyun looked unbothered as he stayed behind to walk at a normal pace with you. By the time you'd crossed over the sand dunes and strolled onto the beach, Mark and Johnny had already found a good place a little ways away to set up. They'd brought two large towels, big enough for multiple people to sit on, and had spread them out over the sand.

Jaehyun sat down on one, then patted the ground next to him, motioning for you to sit next to him. After a few seconds of contemplation you complied, folding your legs to the side as you still kept a couple feet of distance from him. Jamie sat down with Johnny and Mark on the other towel.

For the next hour or so, the five of you talked about various topics in an effort to learn more about each other. Gradually, you loosened up as you got used to their company. Johnny and Mark were college friends of Jaehyun's, who'd came into town a few days before you to visit him where he now lived on the coast. Funnily enough, the two boys were staying in the same hotel as you and Jamie while they did so - it was the closest to Jaehyun's apartment.

Noon came and went, and the air continued to heat up around you until it was unbearable. You looked out at the ocean water longingly, but didn't want to leave by yourself, and the others seemed to be having such a great time...

Glancing over at you, Jaehyun made a suggestion. "Who's up for the water?"

Despite your assumptions, the agreement was unanimous. As one, you all rose and ran towards the rolling sea, chasing each other. Diving into the waves, you ran out until the water was up to your waist. Johnny swam out farther than any of you, while Jamie and Mark stayed in slightly shallower water.

You heard the sound of someone sloshing around in the water directly behind you. Spinning around, you were met with his chest - his white shirt was now wet and you could see some of the muscles through it - as your eyes widened and you looked up into Jae's eyes. He smiled down at your face, less than a foot away, dimples on full display.

"Hi." He said in a way that made your heart melt. Then: "Feel better?"

"Y- yeah, it was really hot before." Your words betrayed your body - being in the water wasn't cooling you off at all anymore.

You stood there for a few awkward moments in silence, not knowing what to say.

"Um-" You began.

"Woah y/n look out!" He cut you off, sudden panic on his face as he closed the small distance between the two of you.

Suddenly, a large wave crashed into your back. It pushed you straight into the only thing that would keep you standing - his body. Instinctively, you gripped onto his shirt tightly so you didn't fall, tugging it towards you. He didn't hesitate to wrap his strong arms around your waist to steady you. Only after the wave had passed did you realize what you'd done, quickly releasing the fabric from your hands. But he didn't let go.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry in his tone.

You nodded, heart pounding loudly in your ears. However, you were shaking slightly.

He began leading you back towards the shore, not convinced. Stumbling onto the hot sand, he guided you back to the towels, sitting you down once you got there. Getting a smaller towel, he wrapped it around you so you could dry off, then he sat down next to you.

You looked at him, embarrassed. "You can go back if you want, I'll be fine here."

"No, I'm good." He leaned back a bit. "I'm not much of a swimmer anyways."

He then lifted his arm and ran his fingers through his damp hair, brushing it back off his forehead. You gulped, incredibly bothered by the motion.

He looked at you with a slight smirk. "Thirsty?"

"Yeah." You replied.

Smirk widening, he handed you an unopened water bottle. You drank, trying desperately to calm down.

Jamie ran up to you, Mark following close behind. "Y/n are you okay?" She asked, confused and concerned. "What happened?"

You explained without including the details that made you blush when you thought of them. She sat on the towel next to you, deciding not to go back out. Mark followed suit and shortly after Johnny joined you again when he realized everyone was out of the water.

After a bit, you began to get hungry and got up to try and find some food. Luckily, there was a food truck nearby with some cheap lunch. Returning to the towels, you ate in relative silence as the sun moved slowly west overhead. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking, playing with a frisbee, and sunbathing. You noticed Jaehyun seemed to be keeping you within a few feet of him the entire time, never leaving you alone or with the others. Even when you went back out with Jamie into the shallow water, he followed - even though he tried to appear like he wasn't.

.•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•.

Once the sun went down, everything was packed up and taken back to the cars. You threw back on your shorts from earlier before heading to a nearby bar, open to the sea and cool night air. It was already crowded with many tourists, and once you entered you quickly lost sight of the others, later catching a glimpse of Jamie talking to Johnny off to the side with a drink in hand.

Seeing the bar, you made your way over to it by yourself and sat on one of the barstools. You beckoned the bartender over to order your drink.

"What can I get for you?" She asked, polishing a glass.

"A margarita please." you answered.

She then looked at the seat next to you. "And you sir?"

"A margarita for me too, thanks." A familiar voice answered.

You turned around in your seat to face Jaehyun, blinking at him.

He smiled and nodded in greeting, those adorable dimples reappearing on the corners of his mouth. Feeling your face heat up, you quickly turned to look at the bartender as she made your identical drinks.

You cleared your throat a little. "So... you like margaritas too?"

He chuckled softly at your attempt to break the awkwardness. "Truthfully, I've never tried one. Thought tonight was good first time."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring into your soul in an attempt to get your attention. When you couldn't take it any longer and tilted your head to look at him, his eyes immediately met yours. A slight smirk spread across his lips.

When your drinks were served, he was the first to take a sip, eyes not leaving you for a millisecond. You drank and shifted in your seat, fully aware of how he was checking you out as his eyes began to roam. You wondered if maybe you should've put on a shirt over your bikini top to cover yourself better. But that thought was quickly dismissed as a new one took its place. You liked it - the way his attention was focused on no one but you. There were plenty of other hot girls there that night, but he paid them no mind.

The hours drifted by as those around you melted away and it felt like you and Jae were the only two in the entire world. The music and voices of patrons were only a buzz in the distant background as you focused on his soft words. You found you enjoyed each others company - he made you comfortable with the idea of spending as much time in it as possible.

When the clock struck ten, you could feel the beginnings of fatigue creeping into your mind. An incoming text made his phone buzz. He checked it, relaying the message to you after briefly lifting up his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your friend's heading back to the hotel with Johnny and Mark, she's driving them there."

"Oh!" You replied in surprise, glancing around the bar but finding them already gone. You knew what was probably going to happen to Jamie, but you didn't voice it.

He looked at you for about a minute before speaking again, slowly. "Do you.. wanna come to my place?"

You met his eyes again, heart and mind racing at his invitation. The implications of his question didn't slip by you, they were fully realized. Still, it didn't take you long to make up your mind - in fact, you'd already made it before he'd asked.

"Yes." You replied.

He smiled wide and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You quickly slid off your barstool and exited the bar, making for the car. You giggled as he pulled you along. The moon shone down on you from high overhead, lighting the way. Once reaching the car, he opened the passenger door for you and you hopped inside as he then closed it and rounded the car to his seat. Getting in, he started the car and drove out onto the road towards his apartment.

Your mind raced as you made the silent drive to his apartment, listening to the low sounds of the radio coming through the speakers. It only took a few minutes before he was parking, getting out, and coming around to help you out of the car. Grasping your hand tightly again, he lead you into the building. The lobby of his apartment had only dim lights on at this time to illuminate the room. No one was around. Jaehyun took a left after guiding you through the main doors.

"This way." He practically whispered, taking you into the elevator.

He hit the three and the doors closed, leaving you alone in the small space with him for a few moments. He didn't waste any time in turning you around to face him, closing the gap between you. Locking his lips with yours in a heated first kiss, he backed you up into the elevator wall, driving you up it slightly with his strong arms. You instinctively wrapped your limbs around his body to steady yourself and kissed him back. You could taste both him and the drink he'd had at the bar - the mixture was heavenly.

A ding signified your arrival at his floor, forcing you to part. Thankfully for the both of you, his door wasn't too far away. Pulling you down the hall quickly, Jae stopped at his door and took out his keys, fumbling with them for a few seconds as he tried to rush. When the door was unlocked, he pushed it open, letting you both walk through before harshly closing it again.

For the few seconds it took for him to throw the keys on a small table next to the door you glanced around the dark apartment. Through a cracked door to your left you could make out a bathroom. A small kitchen stretched across most of the right wall from the door, a long bar separating it from the rest of the room. In this main room was both his living area and bedroom. His bed was pushed up against the farthest wall, which was taken up entirely by two giant windows. The moonlight shone through them, illuminating a balcony on the other side that looked out into the night and the street below, where palm trees waved back and forth in a light breeze.

The sudden grip of his large hand on your waist from behind made you jump. He spun you around, and gave you that soul piercing stare that made all your self-control fade away. You leaned in this time, seeing a smirk spread across his face right before you closed your eyes. As soon as your lips brushed against his again, he picked up were you'd left off, kissing you relentlessly and leaving you breathless. Slowly, he backed you up further into the apartment until the backs of your legs bumped up against the edge of the bed as you struggled to bring air to your lungs.

He lifted you just enough to clear the mattress and sit you down on top of it. Climbing onto it himself, he gently laid you down onto the sheets underneath him. He kept himself up with his knees, one on each side of you as he started to move his plush lips down to your neck. He proceeded to mark you, painting several dark spots onto your skin that would surely be there the next day.

"Ah, Jae." You moaned out for the first time, when the tenseness that had been building between your legs became too much to stay silent.

He paused. "What is it princess?"

"I need..." You began, heating up at the petname.

"Yes?" He asked patiently, waiting for your commanding words. He smiled down at you, raising a hand to your cheek to stroke it soothingly.

"You." You finished, meeting his gaze. "I need you."

He smiled wider. "Sure thing."

Removing his hand from your face, he moved it down to the waistband of your shorts. Unbuttoning them with both hands, he slipped them off and down your ankles with ease. Placing his strong hand on your upper thigh, he spread it away from the other and began moving his fingers closer to your heat. Shivering at his touch, you sunk deeper into the bedsheets. He let his fingertips get to the edge of your bikini bottoms, but stopped there, teasing you.

"Hey-" You breathed, scolding him when you realized what he was doing.

He looked down at you, hair messily splayed around your head as your chest rose and fell beneath him. Your skin was beginning to glisten with perspiration, your eyelashes fluttering slightly every time you blinked your half-closed eyes. "Hm?"

You took a moment to respond. "Touch me Jae."

He smiled a dark smile as he brushed your bikini bottoms to the side. The first touch of his fingertips against your slick clit had you lifting your hips up off the bed, curses falling from your lips. He forced them back down, pinning you to the bed with his body. He quickly resumed his actions, running his fingers back and forth over your folds as you moaned at the pleasure. He then suddenly inserted a finger into your dripping core.

"Ah-" You gasped in surprise as he continued, using his thumb to trace circles across your clit. It was all too much for you to handle. He watched as you gradually lost control beneath him, writhing about in pleasure. The dangerous combination of things he was doing to you quickly brought your first high like a rising wave that crashed into the beach before it.

You didn't have time to warn him before your walls clamped down on his finger and your juices spilled out onto his hand, sheets, and down your legs. He let you ride out your orgasm and calm all the way down before removing his finger and sitting up, licking every last bit of you from his fingers. You peered down the bed at him, watching in fascination as he lapped it up like a man starved.

"Shit, you taste good." He complimented, making your face feel flushed.

When his hand was clean, he bent down and stuck his head between your legs. A second later, you felt the flick of his tongue on your inner thigh. He left a trail of wet kisses up it, making his way back up to your heat. Without warning, you felt his lips brush against your folds as he proceeded to use his tongue to clean you up as best he could. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm and draw your legs up closer to your chest. Once satisfied he sat up again, licking the last of you from his lips.

He then repositioned himself above you. Removing his swim trunks, his hard member sprung free and stood erect, precum trickling from its pink tip. Slipping a couple of fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, he pulled then down your legs, leaving them with your shorts at your ankles. Lining up with your entrance, he held himself up with his strong arms, caging you in. You looked up at him, his faded purple hair messy across his face. He gave you a reassuring smile - dimples and all - before pushing into you with ease and rolling his hips down onto yours. Matching the pace he set, you pulled his face back down to yours to kiss him again, softer this time. He complied, kissing you deeper and slower as he pushed further into you with each thrust.

When he bottomed out, he speed up the movement of his hips, gripping yours to bring them closer to his. The lewd sounds of sex filled the apartment, combined with both of your increasingly loud moans.

"Jae." You moaned out, breaking your kisses. You felt the tenseness building in your abdomen again.

He groaned as you felt him twitch inside you. "Fuck, you sound so hot saying my name like that."

He then hit your g-spot with the tip of his cock, pushing you over the edge. You came undone all at once, flexing your walls around him, gasping for air. Seconds later, hot strings of his cum shot through you, spilling out onto the bed along with your own. Riding out your orgasms simultaneously, your heavy breathing gradually quieted until he pulled out and sat up on the bed beside you. Watching him slide off the edge and stand up, your eyes followed him as he made his way to the bathroom entrance, ducking in for a second and returning with a towel.

Climbing back onto the bed, he leaned over you and gently cleaned you up with the towel, being extra careful around your sore clit. When most of it was wiped up, he discarded the towel onto the floor and laid down next to you. You rolled onto your side to look at him in the moonlight.

His skin had a visible sheen to it and his hair was a fucking mess - it stuck partially to his damp skin. But that only made his perfectly sculpted features more beautiful. You felt him wrap his arm around your naked waist, holding you to his body. Brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, he spoke for the first time in minutes.

"Let's do this again tomorrow."

In your fucked out state, you couldn't respond with much else than an excited nod as you snuggled up to him. He gently kissed your swollen lips, happy.

Brushing your nose with his, he whispered: "Night y/n."

You replied by kissing him back, closing your eyes, and drifting off to sleep in his arms.

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toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter eight. saturday, wait.

Summary: Will is waking up and smelling the roses, coming to grip and accepting that you're a huge comfort to him, though you seem to be in the middle of your own silent debacle.

ao3. ~1.7k. masterlist.

---

he wasn’t awake but he wasn’t asleep. in that middle part where it’s a floating feeling, as if you’re being lowered back into your bed after a night of flying dreams. not that he dreamt of flying, most dreams were incoherent and oftentimes, forgotten.

but he comes to as he tunes into the sounds of the waking world. a radio playing in the background, dishes clattering amongst other things, a soft voice humming, and feet shuffling against the wooden floorboards. and rolling in the soft, warm blanket, he finds himself reaching out beside him, looking for something, or someone, as his arm meets an almost cold space. as if someone had been long gone. taking a sniff, he doesn’t recognize the smell on the blankets or pillows and he begrudgingly opens the first eye, twitching till both of them are open fully.

it’s your bedroom, and the light is peaking in through the corner but your door is closed, as if someone had closed it after leaving him alone.

closing his eyes, he takes the moment to just cherish the way his bones melt in your mattress, sinking into the welcomed feeling.

and as the moment slows down and time seems to stop, he hears the front door slam and rosie’s voice echoing against the walls. “you won’t believe the shit that i had to go through this morning, guys.” guys? his curiosity peaked and then, as he looked the camera on your dresser in the eye and then the one tucked by the clutter in the corner, he decides he has to get up.

it was just the three of them when they got home- when they got here, wasn’t it? they hadn’t picked anyone else up, you were exhausted by the time you two entered the dorm.

had rosie invited someone over in the time you were gone? or, seeing as she just arrived, had she invited someone before she left? questions running through his head without so much as an answer for any of them, he tries to leave your bed before he’s shackled to the damn mattress with doubt.

tripping over his own shoes, he fumbles with getting a hold on anything before breathing heavily, and attempting to control it.

when he feels like he’s failed, he kicks the shoes away from him and out of the way, feet scuffling against the floor as he pulls the door open slowly, as if he didn’t want to be discovered leaving the room.

also failed at that.

“morning, will, you’re just in time for breakfast!” you cut off whatever rosie was ranting about, smiling at him as you wash some dishes from cooking whatever it was. seemed to be eggs and sausage and the bag of questionables rosie was holding in her tight hold, anger unknowingly festering.

rosie absently pulls out a chair next to him and waves him a hello.

he wants to tell his heart not to go wild at her actions but it’s already racing ahead, sitting himself next to the one girl he wants and tries to pay attention. and then someone sneezes behind him.

twisting his neck, he finds jared from the other day, curled under the thinnest blanket they had available, and his hair fashionably disheveled. not unlike how most actors wake up in a movie, he notes, as he turns back around with a wave of his own, acknowledging him.

jared. when did he get here?

“-so i’m telling this woman, who by the way has a tattoo of that baby from cloudy with a chance of meatballs on her wrist, you can’t just eat in here, this is the dressing room. and she has the audacity to tell me i’m not an employee so i don’t “have any authority” well, you should’ve seen her face when i brought the manager back there. they almost called the police because she was refusing to stop eating there. you should’ve seen it.” rosie finishes her story up as you begin to serve everyone, saving yourself for last as you lean against the counter, watching the two seated with careful eyes.

will swallows the first bite down with relative ease, and so do the bites that follow, eyes taking glances to rosie, who’s looking at her phone. and when he finishes, he moves to go wash it, ending up next to you, and you, you’re not even bothered, shoving an elbow in between his ribs as you give me a playful smile.

“hey, jared, don’t forget, we have to go pick up your mother!” rosie turns around to remind said college student, who groans and turns to smush his face into the couch, as if the couch absorbing him will save him from such a horror.

“why did she have to come visit now? it’s been barely a month!” will blinks, has it really? he turns to you as if asking you will confirm it, but you seem just as taken aback. both of you seemed to have lost time, but rosie seems confident in her time.

“yes, now get ready, i won’t wait for you, i do have to stream today,” she tells him as she swings off the seat, grabbing one of his surprisingly toned arms, and yanking on it.

he immediately whines, rubbing at his shoulder as he tried to bat her away, but she’s getting him on his feet, pushing him towards her room as she rolled her eyes. grabbing her keys, she tossed a hand up, waving as she passed them by, “i’ll be right back.”

silence sits for a few minutes as you two process what happened. and then he feels a burning gaze he doesn’t know if he wants to meet.

will swallows down something, not any of the egg or sausage, and turns to your prodding eyes, almost as if you’re looking for something inside of him, not particularly at him.

then pulling back, and turning around to wash your own dish, you bite your lips as if you mean to say something. but you end up putting your dish up and then turn to him with a smile he didn’t recognize, asking him if he didn’t mind doing homework with you.

and, well, he was in the same boat, but he didn’t exactly have his computer.

“my, my uh laptop is back at home, but otherwise i wouldn’t mind!” he answers, mind too scrambled from rosie next to him that he doesn’t know if they make any sense, and you nod.

“did you want to pick it up or did you want to be dropped off, or we could also go somewhere else entirely, just- it’s too early for me to make decisions,” you smile as you walk over to the couch, slipping some slippers on as he almost follows you, brain still ticking at a slow speed.

but he ends up making a decision, and as much as it’s a bad one, he can’t help but want to be back in his home and you make it yours like you’ve done everywhere you’ve been.

rubbing his palms as he thinks on it make him realize how sweaty they’ve gotten, so he pats them on his pants as he begins to speak, “well- what if we did our work at my place? i mean it would be much easier to do so, don’t you think?” he says, as if you were planning to decline his kind offer.

it lifts the edges of your eyes in your smile a little as you accept, moving past him with a mumbled sorry as you head back to your room, pulling out a backpack from behind the door. you grin as he gets his shoes, and as you two descend the stairs, you pass rosie and he notices the distinct smell on her and the smile she gives you two is different from the one five minutes ago.

“without me?” you joke as you call from the bottom of the second floor and she only laughs, and he knows. after all, it wasn’t that unfamiliar of a smell.

and then you’re running down the steps to the bottom floor and happily striding to your car, unlocking it and giving him a sliver of your smile, of your happiness.

though you don't see it getting in the car, he smiles to himself.

“to your apartment?” you say as you tuck your backpack in the back seat and he nods, leaning into the seat as you peeled out of the lot, turning the radio on as the sun slowly makes its way up into the sky.

the time passes by fast enough that he finds himself wondering if he had any trash in there as he was unlocking the door. it turns out not that dirty and you immediately sit yourself on the couch, pulling out your computer and asking for the wifi password.

and getting his laptop was the easy part. it’s taking the seat beside you, angling his body sideways as his laptop sits on his lap, unsure what will happen. he had closed it on the footage of you. with the sound on.

trying to breathe a regular amount, he opens it and immediately hits the mute button, watching as the screen lights up with the mute on and the image of your bedroom with rumpled blankets on them. just how you left them.

exiting the program, he pulls his classes up and internally screams at how much his professors hate him. and the time slips you two, typing fills the room and when it hits noon and you put your computer to the side, you ask where the bathroom is.

the real mess is in his room and he wonders if it's too much to ask to drive you to piss elsewhere, and that’s when he abandons all thoughts and just leads you through his bedroom, apologizing for the mess, and thanking whoever is in charge that it wasn’t as bad as he remembered.

sitting on his bed with his hands in his pockets, he wonders how much longer he’ll be glued to his computer till the workload diminishes completely when you open the door. you wipe your wet hands on the cloth on the sink counter when you turn completely to him.

“hey, will, can i ask you something?” you speak, and though you sound out of the blue, like you didn’t know that you were speaking yourself until you heard your voice, he nods, watching you and feeling like nothing bad could happen right now.

you were probably going to say that you’ve clogged the toilet with a huge shit, or something-

“do you like rosie?”

holy shit.

...

taglist: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @marinaloveswomen @roygbivvie @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0 @comonlokbut2 @lurkey-lurker

#c: simpbur #simpbur #simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #mcyt au #au: band #au: college

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 5)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild smut

Part Summary: You and Topper make amends. You two attend the end of the summer bonfire at the Boneyard. When JJ sees you guys together, things take a turn for the worst.

Masterlist

Somehow, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep on your bed. You're not quite sure when it happened. Your covers tucked nicely under you, wet from your tears. When you first got home, you immediately snuck up to your room, far from your parents. You ripped off your Labor Day dress, having already hated it, but you also took your aggression out on it. You changed in one of Topper's T-shirts that you stole sometime last summer... when you were hooking up. You had never been so close. Morning, noon, and night you were together. You were practically dating but without the titles. Actually, it was far deeper than that. You spent almost every hour together, you co-existing. You were acting married even though you were only teenagers. You guys just loved each other that much. If someone had told you then that a year from now you two wouldn't be talking, you would've thought they were crazy.

“Y/N!" You hear Topper in your dreams. "Y/N!" He repeats, then you process it's real.

"What the-" You rise from your laid position and spot the boy climbing in from your window in the dark. "Topper?"

"Hey! Sorry to scare you," he apologizes as he rises to his feet from a crawling position on your floor.

"Did you climb through the window?" You question, this wouldn't be the first time, but it nevertheless is mind-boggling to you how he can climb up the side of your house.

"Yeah, can you tell your mom to not have the gardeners cut the vines so short?" He complains with a chuckle, brushing down his Patagonia shirt.

"What are you doing here?" You yawn. Considering what he said to you just hours before, you can't help but wonder why the fuck he's here.

"I... I need to apologize," he stammers, taking a seat on the edge of your bed just by your legs. "Y/N, I'm so sorry! I was such a jerk to you earlier. I shouldn't have-"

Before he can even finish, you leap at him, pulling him into a pleading hug. "Jesus, I'm so happy you're here," you whisper against his shoulder.

Topper instantly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you. He releases a deep breath, not having realized until this moment that he couldn't breathe the entire time you weren't talking. "I've missed you!" He pulls back and brushes his hand across your cheek, bringing your hair back. "I missed you the moment you left!" He wears a smile of relief as his eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall.

"Never let me go again," you mutter, almost as a beg.

"I could never. I didn't," Topper explains in a rushed whisper, gripping your waist. "As soon as you left I was a mess, ask the boys! They had to talk me off a cliff. I came by earlier but your parents said you were still at Kiara's... which I'm guessing you were with JJ and the other Pogues..." His face falters and he avoids your gaze at the mention of JJ.

You bring your hand up and tuck your fingers under his chin, guiding him to look at you. His eyes meet you with defeat and it nearly breaks your heart. "JJ drove me back to John B's, but I had Sarah drive me home almost as soon as we got there."

"So you and JJ..." He can't bring himself to ask.

"We..." Your brows scrunch together as you realize you never really discussed it. "You know what, I didn't even know." Enough about JJ, you're just happy that Topper is here! You felt so empty all day, in a constant state of panic. Now, you can exist again. "I'm just relieved you're here, Top. I've felt sick to my stomach all day," you release a breathless laugh of relief.

"No, yeah you're right, no one else matters," he shakes his head, reaching for your hand on his cheek and taking it in his hands. "As long as we're good then everything else will be okay." He lifts your hand to his lips and gives them a needy kiss.

"Stay with me?" You ask softly as he does.

You see him swallow hard, pausing with your hand his lips. His eyes flicker up to yours with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "I was hoping you'd ask." A faint grin appearing on the edge of his lips.

You and Topper get ready for bed as you used to every night when he snuck into your room a lot more. You've shared a bed since breaking off your... arrangement. There was the ski trip and Bermuda, but on random nights when he couldn't sleep or missed you, Topper would find himself in your bed. You pull back your blankets, knowing to get on the side closest to the window, away from the door. Topper didn't need to think twice to move to the opposite side because ever in the case of an emergency, he's the closest to the door. He's always thinking of how to keep you safe and satisfied. As you climb in, Topper begins to remove his t-shirt and shorts. You can't help but watch as his clothes become a pile on his side. It's months since you two have done anything, but that doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. There have been opportunities, but you always try to be responsible and remember why you stopped. Topper doesn't notice your staring and wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers down his chest. He climbs in next to you and immediately guides you into his side. Instantly, you feel secure and wanted, which is all anyone ever needs. He brushes his fingertips up and down your spine gently while you rest your cheek against his bare chest. It's not a new feeling to you, but it certainly never gets old.

"There's a bonfire tomorrow at the Boneyard, wanna go together?" The boy asks, glancing down at you.

"As long as Rafe doesn't go wild as he did," you snicker, but you mean what you say.

"Don't worry about him, we had a nice long chat once he sobered up this afternoon," he insinuates and you wish you would've seen Topper go off on him. Then, you comprehend that it might've only happened because Topper was mad at you and Rafe was getting the side effects.

"He doesn't deserve you, Top." You mutter, lifting your head off his chest to place a quick kiss on his chest.

"That's how I feel about myself with you," he confesses as he peers down at you. "You've always been there for me. When Sarah cheated, you were right there and pulled me through it. The way I spoke to you this morning. I-"

"No, no, don't say that," you shake your hand repeatedly as you cup his cheek as you did before. He leans into your touch and you find yourself wishing to be closer to him, as though that's even possible. "I love you, Top. You're my best friend. I'll always be there for you. You've helped me in more ways than you could ever realize."

"I love you too, Y/N," he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "So much..." he whispers against your skin.

His eyes flicker down to your neck and you remember last night in the kitchen. You brush your hand across Topper's cheek, pulling his focus back to you. His eyes and features falter at the evidence of JJ on you.

"I'm here with you! Okay? It's you and me," you try to emphasize.

He nods slowly, still feeling an ache in his chest, but relieved to have you in his arms. You're it for Topper. He would do anything for you, drop anyone for you, nothing is too much. You alone are what drives him and are the reason he wakes up in the morning. He would never admit it aloud out of guilt, but when he was with Sarah, he always compared her to you. He doesn't fully know why he dated her, maybe because he felt you slipping away when you realized that you no longer wanted to hook up. He couldn't lose you so he tried to replace you, but he quickly realized that was impossible. No one could be you.

_____________________________________

Topper woke up before you and let you sleep, pondering having you in his arms. Your legs entangled in his, your arm across his chest along with your cheek. In the light, he finally notices you wearing his shirt. A faint smile forms on his lips at the sight. He has you here with him, not with JJ or Rafe or anyone else who's pining after you. You're his.

You've spent the entire day together on Topper's boat. It couldn't have been more perfect. The hours slipped by without either of you two noticing. Topper has been energized and enthusiastic about everything, all because he has you back. Around ten, you and Topper arrive at the Boneyard for the final bonfire of the summer. You wear distressed white short shorts over a black tank bodysuit with a matching black Chanel belt. All finished with the pearl earrings Topper gave you for Christmas last year.

Topper keeps you close, his arm around your waist as you walk toward the crowd of teenagers. "I'm so lucky."

You peer up at the boy with a giggle. "Why?"

"I have the most beautiful girl in the OBX at my side," he flirts.

You turn your attention ahead, struggling to hide your blushing. "You sound like Rafe."

Topper steps around to walk backward in front of you. He locks his fingers through the loops of your shorts and pulls you into his chest. "At least he and I agree on something." He grins, resting his hands on your hips.

You playfully roll your eyes but find it hard to hide your amusement. "You're such a cheese ball."

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks," he announces before planting a quick peck to your temple.

You nod, stepping back toward the shore as Topper holds onto your hands until the last minute. "Okay, I'll find us a spot by the water."

"Be right there," he winks, offering you a mischievous smirk.

For a second, you watch Topper jog off to the stack of coolers by the cement wall. Is it possible to be too dependent on someone? You know that if you and Topper stopped talking completely that you wouldn't physically die, but emotionally it would destroy you. You smile, knowing that you two will grow closer because of your fight. It taught you a valuable lesson. It took losing Topper for you to fully comprehend how much you need him. Turning on your heels, you head toward a log facing the shore. It's far enough from the chaos to give you and Topper some privacy, but close enough to still be included in the festivities. You two are both social butterflies, but today has been about you two and you want to keep it that way. You sit down on the log, content watching the small waves crashing against the sand just a few feet away. The light of the moon shimmers on the water, making it looks like lines of crystal.

"Want a drink, Princess?" A familiar voice asks over your shoulder

You glance up to see a

"Wow, you look extra Kooky tonight," he remarks under his breath as he brings his cup to his mouth.

You glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's play a game!" He blurts out. "How many items that Y/N is wearing are designer?"

You roll your eyes, realizing how drunk he is because JJ isn't like this. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Just the right amount!" He answers swiftly before moving on. "My guess is all of them, but I can't be too sure. You'll have to take off your clothes so I can check what's underneath."

"You wanna sit for a second? Maybe cool down a bit?" You offer, gesturing to the space beside you.

His expression shifts from carefree to hurt. "Why do you care?"

"JJ..." You sigh, peering up at the boy with immense guilt.

"What?!" He tosses his arms up at his sides, losing some of his drink in the process. "You come here with Prince Charming, acting all coupley!"

"It's not like that-" You try to explain calmly.

"Not according to Sarah!" He counters in a shout. You nervously check over at the crowd, making sure no one heard him burst. "You two planning your next trip to Bermuda?!"

"What!" You whip your head back around toward JJ. "What did Sarah tell you?!" You fly up to your feet, stepping toward him defensively.

"Did you sleep with him?!" JJ yells again and you're sure others heard him this time.

"Excuse me?" You gasp at his audacity.

"After you left John B's, did you go and find him?!" He elaborates with a breathless laugh. He steps closer to you, getting in your face. He doesn't care if others listen or if he's making you uncomfortable. "After you kissed me and slept in my bed, did you go and sleep with Topper?!"

Abruptly, you feel a hand pressed to your back and see JJ being shoved backyard.

"Hey! Back off man!" Topper growls, suddenly at your side.

JJ catches himself from falling after a second of stumbling. "Oh and here he is now!" He laughs, tossing his cup to the side. "Your knight in shining armor!"

"I think you should go, man!" Topper warns between his teeth.

Topper's arm slips around you and grips your waist protectively. You watch JJ as he glares at Topper's arm around you.

"Don't "man" me, alright! Touch me again and you'll lose a hand!" JJ threatens.

"JJ!" John B calls for his friend as he runs toward you from down the beach. Kiara, Pope, and Sarah are close behind him. When JJ doesn't react. John B shouts again. JJ! Come on, let's go back over to the fire."

"No! Not until she answers me!" JJ screams, yanking his arm free.

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah watch in distress as JJ and Topper go back and forth. None of you are sure what to do.

"Answer what!" Topper barks, stepping toward JJ defensively. You grab his arm, keeping him back.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is your name Y/N?" JJ laughs mockingly. "That Kook Academy doesn't do you guys any favors for your intelligence does it?"

Pope steps around to block off his friend. "Just cool down, buddy!"

"I knew you were Kook, Y/N, but I would've never marked you as slut," JJ shouts at you over Pope's shoulder.

Topper breaks free of your hold, charging at JJ. John B grabs Pope and yanks him out of Topper's way. Now block-less, JJ runs at Topper. His face is red with aggravation. You could've never imagined seeing JJ look so enraged. The person he was with you the other night was entirely different. He was kind, gentle, understanding. You don't recognize him. Topper shoves JJ hard enough to make the boy fall back onto the sand.

Topper tackles JJ into the ankle-deep water, immediately punching him in the jaw. The two grunt, struggling to get the upper hand. John B attempts to pull Topper off.

"Topper!" You yell desperately.

"JJ!" Kiara yells from the sidelines.

"Enough!" John B barks at the pair as Pope runs to assist.

The crowd by the bonfire starts to figure out what's going on a few yards away and rush over to watch. Pogues and Kooks each cheer for their fighter. Kelce and Rafe show up, pushing through the crowd to help out their friend.

"Topper! Get off of him!" You plead as your best friend continues to press JJ's head under the water.

JJ manages to punch Topper in the cheek, making the boy lose his balance for a second. Despite hating each other, Kelce and Rafe try to help out John B and Pope.

"Guys! Quit!" Kelce commands, pulling at Topper.

"Top, you'll kill him!" Sarah screams from beside Kiara.

You want to go stand with them, but at this moment you're not sure if they want anything to do with you. Sarah and Kiara are Pogues. You're not just Y/N right now, their friend. You're a Kook during this Kook vs. Pogue fight.

The boys manage to yank Topper off of JJ. The blonde Pogue flies up from beneath the surface, gasping for air. Topper falls back onto the sand in a seated position. Topper continues to fist JJ's collar and as he's shoved off, ripping JJ's shirt down the front. You notice the large purple and blue bruise on JJ's chest and freshly heeling cut down his neck to his collar bone. JJ frantically reaches behind himself, searching for something. Then, things take a turn for the worst when he whips out a gun. The crowd that watched the fight with amusement now scatters in a panic.

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Topper's eyes grow wide as he starts to scoot back, holding up a hand pleadingly.

Kelce and Rafe bolt away, John B and Pope rush out words, trying to calm JJ down.

"JJ!" John B yells at his friend. "What the hell?!"

"Oh my god!" Sarah's hands fly up to her mouth.

"That's right! Bet you didn't think I had that did ya?" JJ grins wickedly at Topper.

"Topper!" Kelce attempts to collect his friend but halts when JJ points the gun at him.

"Everyone back off!" JJ orders, rising to his feet, returning the gun's point toward Topper.

Without a second thought, you sprint across the sand. You slide in front of Topper, the waves splashing against you.

"Y/N! No!" Topper screams as soon as you land in JJ's path.

"Y/N!" Sarah and Kiara shout your name in unison.

JJ hesitates when his eyes land on you. You see him lower the gun a little and Kelce takes the opportunity to pull Topper from the scene.

"JJ please..." you beg of him.

Your heart is racing, but you're certain JJ won't hurt you. Despite his evident pain and anger toward you, he won't do it. You remember the boy from the other night, the one who spoke to you with such admiration. That boy wouldn't harm you. You know he's in there beneath this tough facade.

"Y/N! Come on!" Rafe wraps his fingers around your arm and drags you away.

While he's distracted by you, John B swiftly steals the gun from JJ's hand and begins ushers him away to their circle of friends. The Pogues swarm JJ, all talking over each other.

Rafe frantically cups your face, checking on you. "Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." You mutter, glancing over your shoulder, watching John B talk to JJ down the beach.

"No cuts? Scrapes?" Rafe panics.

"No..." You shake your head absent-mindedly as you’re too distracted by observing JJ.

"Are you okay?" Kiara checks on JJ worriedly as you watch from a distant.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!" JJ rushes out, still agitated. "Fuck this man!" He swears, then his eyes land on yours with surprise. He hand’t expected you to be listening or even care.

You two stare each other from across the beach. Guilt consumes his features and sympathy breaks you apart as your vision lands on the wounds covering JJ’s torso. Rafe brings you over to Kelce who has Topper catching his breath against a tree.

"Dude's fucking nuts, man!" Kelce curses, all fidgety beside you.

As soon Topper sees you coming, he pushes himself off the tree and rushes to you. His arms engulf you as he presses you to his chest.

He squats down to be at your level, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, Y/N! You just jumped in front of a gun! Why would you do that?!”

“Because it was pointed at you!” You justify desperately.

Topper's eyes soften. “You’d risk your life for me?! Are you crazy?!” A soft, breathless, laugh escapes him.

“Of course I would you idiot!” You remark with frustration. How could he possibly think you wouldn't? You'd do anything for the boy.

“God, I love you so much," he mutters, placing a hand on either side of your head and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” You check his body in a panic.

“Yes, yes I’m okay!” He assures you. “Let’s get out of here before things get crazy again."

Your eyes grow wide. “Agreed!”

He looks over at you and Topper doting on each other. It makes him even more pissed off. "Great! Go baby him! Tend to your Kook Prince, you Princess!" He yells across the beach.

John B covers his friend's mouth. "Shut up, JJ!"

"Jesus JJ!" Pope huffs under his breath.

You and Topper snap your heads in JJ's direction. As a result, Topper pulls you into his side securely.

“We'll text you guys later!” Kelce calls out to you both as he and Rafe start backing toward their cars.

“Stay close to me,” Topper slips his into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m never letting that psycho Pogue anywhere near you again!”

When you arrive at Topper's car, he opens your door for you. He keeps a sharp eye on the Pogues that remain on the beach. When John B or any of them glance our way, he glares daggers in their direction. Once you climb in, Topper reaches in and begins to buckle your seat belt as though you were a toddler in a car seat.

“Topper I think I can put on my own seat belt,” you

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m just..." he stops his action, kneeling beside you. "I guess I’m still a little scared. I was so afraid when that gun was pointed at you, I... I couldn’t breathe. I can never lose you, Y/N,” he rushes out, becoming emotional.

Your emotions become bottled up as a lump in your throat. You rub your fingers through Topper's hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. His hands glide around your waist to your back, hugging you needly. His head rests against your chest as you cradle it.

Abruptly, he breaks from you as a thought pops into his mind. “Promises me that if there’s any dangerous situation like that again, you run!" He instructs sternly. "You don’t do anything reckless for my sake!”

You shake your head frantically, already rejecting his words. “You would’ve done the same thing for me! You basically did!” You justify.

“I’m seriously Y/N!" Topper stands his ground. Eagerly, he takes removes your hands from his hair and squeezes them in his own. "I could never live with myself if something happened to you! Never again!”

You want to argue with him on it, claim that if he's going to be protective of you that he must understand that you'll be the same. Yet, nothing escapes you. Instead, you simply nod, not wanting to fight at this moment.

He nods, satisfied by your compliance. “I love you, you know that right?”

You nod. “I love you too, Topper."

_________________________________________

JJ fell into a dark abyss of self-deprecation and destruction after the bonfire. The Pogues all drove back to John B's, but as soon as they got there JJ disappeared as he did the day before. All they can do is wonder where he goes. If they knew that he was at the bar searching for his dad half drunk, they would be stopping a second fight for the day.

JJ can't help but feel responsible for it all. One minute he has you. You're right there. The next, you're gone, in the arms of Topper of all people. He wants to know if anything from the other night was real for you. Was he just a game to you? You're the Princess of the OBX, you can have anything you want, including JJ if you asked. Is that what happened? You wanted him for a night and then got bored and went back to your fellow Kook. He wishes he hadn't let you down. He wishes you were here. He wishes that he could hold you again and feel you in his arms. Waking up next to you was the best moment in his life and he fears he'll never feel that sort of peace again.

______________________________________________________

You Topper spend the night at his house, too afraid to be apart. Late into the night, Topper struggles to fall asleep as he holds you. Your back is pressed to his chest as his hands rest against you underneath his shirt you're wearing. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he envisions what could've happened tonight. You could've been shot. Topper could never live with himself if anything happened to you. Moving slowly to not wake you, he rolls onto his back and reaches toward the nightstand for his phone. He begins to scroll through social media and text messages, responding in the group chat between you, Kelce, Rafe, and himself. You've all agreed to go to lunch tomorrow at the Club with some other Kooks from the bonfire.

You stir next to Topper, making the boy pause for a second. When you roll over still asleep and curl into him, a wave of relief rushes over Topper.

“Go back to sleep,” you yawn.

Topper jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. “Shit... sorry Beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’ve been awake. I could feel you overthinking," you whisper, scooting closer into his side.

“You could feel me thinking?” He repeats with a hint of confusion.

You hum, as it makes perfect sense to you. You hear the sound of Topper pushing his phone back onto the side table. He rests his now free hand over your arm that lays across him. After a couple of minutes, you can still feel the tension radiating from him.

“I’m okay, Topper,” you tell him to ease his nerves.

“I know, I can’t just help but review the course of events in my head. What if he didn’t hesitate? What if his hand slipped? What if-“

“Enough!” You fly up to prop yourself up on your elbow. You stare down at the worried boy with sympathy. "You’re okay! I’m okay! What’s done is done and all we can do is be safe from now on. We’re safe!” You reach up and comb your fingers through the side of his hair. “Okay? It’s just you and me here.”

Impulsively, Topper extends his neck and slams his lips to yours. You sit stunned as the kiss rides out its course. You and Topper go months without anything intimate and within two days, he's kissed you twice, breaking every ruled you two have made. When you don't react, Topper breaks from you with a startled expression, as if he wasn't comprehending his actions.

“Y/N, I'm sorry! I-“

Before Topper can finish his sentence, you press your lips to his hungrily. You're not sure why, but you need him. Topper is your kryptonite, the bittersweet reality in your life. Forgetting his regret, Topper immediately sits up, resting against his headboard. You take the opportunity to straddle his torso and he keeps you steady with his hands on your hips. It's been ages since you've made out, but it's like riding a bike for you two. You know what each other likes and what gets the other going.

"I've missed you so much," Topper whispers against your jawline as he moves down to leave marks on your neck. He aggressively attacks your sensitive skin where evidence of JJ remains. Deep down in the back of your mind, you know Topper is parking his territory for JJ to see later. Your skin has become a battleground for the two. "I've missed this."

"Me too," you pant, silently wondering if you truly mean it in the same sense as him.

Though you chose to kiss Topper back and want to, you can’t understand why JJ’s face enters your mind the moment you do. As you deepen the kiss with Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel, it's familiar and reminds you of a time when you were carefree. Yet, your thoughts remain fixated on JJ. You want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ.

__________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez

#topper obx #topper outer banks #topper imagine #topper #john b routledge #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj #kiara #sarah cameron #pope #outer banks

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voiceless-terror · 3 years

Note

#6 for the kiss prompts?

this was an ‘im sorry’ kiss, and i picked jonmartin! some safehouse fic cause we can’t stay away from it, apparently. this begins a little angsty but ends on an entirely fluffy note.

Three days in, Jon gets hungry.

He tries to hide it, but Martin knows the signs. As much as he professed to stay away from Jon over the last year, he still spent his fair share of time in the Archives, looking for statements and keeping an eye out. Jon would pace the halls, attempt conversation with Basira or Melanie only to be shot down, scratch at his arms and bite his nails. Martin wanted nothing more than to usher him to his seat, fix him a cup of tea and hand him a statement but he never did, of course, fleeing the basement whenever the impulse got too strong.

The past three days at Daisy’s cottage have been like some sort of waking dream, each of them tiptoeing around the other, pretending Jon didn’t sleep on his shoulder the train ride up, pretending Martin didn’t hold his hand the entire way. Jon rambles about everything but the institute, shooting him shy smiles and lingering in the doorway before he leaves a room. Martin makes them tea and goes through the cupboards, telling Jon of any interesting finds. They’ve spent more time together these last couple of days than they have in the past two years. But they haven’t talked about….them. This, whatever it is that they’re doing. They’re living together, but acknowledgment of the situation would disturb the delicate peace they’ve made, and Martin’s not in a place to take any sort of rejection, perceived or otherwise.

So when Jon shuts the door to the bedroom that afternoon, Martin’s naturally worried. He woke up bleary-eyed and irritable, barely touching his toast and speaking in short, clipped tones. Martin’s mind automatically goes through every action from the past few days, searching for something he’d done wrong, something he’d said, when he noticed Jon’s hands itched at the sleeve of his jumper. His eyes looked somewhere past Martin, as if struggling to focus.

He needs a statement.

So Martin stamped down the urge to nervously chatter and instead remained silent, watching as Jon mumbled something unintelligible and rose from his seat, retreating to the bedroom. He’ll come out when he’s ready, Martin reassures himself, moving to clear the table. He doesn’t hear the murmurings of a statement just yet, but still, he doesn’t want to bother him. Maybe he’s trying to hold off. They hadn’t brought many statements with them in their rush to leave the institute. Jon’s been so reluctant to speak of such things, and Martin doesn’t want to push.

But then it’s past noon and Martin’s starting to get hungry- Jon must be, too, since he barely touched his breakfast. He knows Jon has other, more pressing hungers to deal with, and he’s not going to fault him for it, but he’d still rather he eat three meals a day. He has to keep his strength up, and maybe a bit of company would help distract him.

So he knocks on the door, despite his trepidation. “Jon? I’m going to fix lunch, did you want anything?” No answer. He opens the door a crack, more out of worry than anything, and peers into the dark room. “Jon?”

Jon’s in front of the bed, the satchel of statements emptied beside him and papers strewn across the floor. His eyes scan the pages in his hand hungrily, as if searching for his next meal. That’s what he’s doing and he doesn’t want you to see this, his mind helpfully supplies and yet still he speaks, he can’t help it.

“Jon, I was just going to-”

“Not hungry.” The words are startlingly severe, and Jon doesn’t even raise his eyes from the page. Martin bristles.

“Alright, but you should really-”

This time he does look up, and the glare leveled at him is surprisingly reminiscent of earlier days in the archives, when Martin would interrupt a statement or exist near him a little too loudly. “I said I’m not hungry.”

Time to go. “Fine.” Irritation drips into the word and he takes a step back from the doorway.

“Close the door.” He does. Slams it, actually. He’s not hungry anymore. For the first time the house feels big and empty, despite the cozy quarters.

He grabs his coat from the couch, deciding to go for a walk. It’s not as temperate a day as it could’ve been- it’s getting colder, and the two sunny days they had beforehand seem now more miraculous than a regular occurrence. He wanders aimlessly in the fields, not willing to commit to the hour walk to the village, and too moody to visit the cows he knows are only a mile off. As much as he wants to lose himself in solitude, he resists. Back with Peter, he would hold on to every perceived slight and tell himself it’s better this way. Without people. That way, you can’t get hurt. It numbed the loss, and it’s so, so tempting to fall back on. But the voice that urged him to take Jon’s hand is louder now, and it tells him this will pass. Jon’s not truly angry with him, he doesn’t have to stay away. It’s this voice he listens to now.

It helps that his feet kind of hurt, too.

By the time that he comes back, it’s starting to drizzle. He shakes out his coat and hangs it on the back of a chair, heading towards the kitchen to put the kettle on. The door’s still closed, but he can hear no noise behind it. He loses himself in the routine motions of making tea, humming under his breath. He’s so wrapped up in his task that he doesn’t hear the door creak open or register Jon’s presence until he turns around and finds the man within a foot of him.

“Christ Jon!” He yelps, the mug in his hand just barely remaining steady. “You scared me-”

“I wanted to apologize.” The words sound almost grave, and Jon’s gazing up at him an intense look of contrition. He looks better, the circles under his eyes slightly faded and his face not quite so gaunt. He’s eaten, then. “For...hiding away like that, and snapping at you. I shouldn’t have done that.” He fidgets on his feet for a moment before moving even closer, directly into Martin’s space. Jon has to crane his neck to look up at him, and still maintains that intense eye contact. “I’m sorry.” Martin’s heart is hammering in his chest and he watches, eyes wide, as Jon awkwardly gets on his toes and leans forward, putting his hand on Martin’s chest to balance himself. Not without some strain, he reaches up and kisses him.

It’s a tiny, dry peck on the cheek, lingering just too long as Jon struggles to maintain his balance. He falls back on his feet and looks up at Martin anxiously. Martin, who’s still holding a cup of tea in one hand and a spoon in the other. Jonathan Sims kissed him.

“W-Was that alright?” he asks, a squeak to his voice in stark contrast to the deep gravity of the words before. Jonathan Sims kissed him and has now asked if it was alright.

Martin blinks owlishly. “Y-Yes? I mean, yes. That was fine. And, uh, apology accepted. Yes.”

They stare at each other for a few moments before Martin comes to his senses, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “Tea?”

Jon takes a few steps back, an unreadable expression on his face as he wobbles into a kitchen chair. “Um, yes, please.”

That exchange taken care of, Martin makes him a cup and sits down across from him. Jon’s now refusing to meet his eyes, cheeks red as he stares into his cup of tea like it holds the answers to the universe. Martin can still feel the burn of the hand on his chest, the soft pressure of Jon’s lips on his cheek. He wonders if it was a one time thing. The irrational part of him thinks it's just how Jon apologizes. You know it’s not, the more rational part says. But neither part seems to be controlling his mouth as he starts to speak.

“Next time I’ll bend down.” He stares at the table, willing himself to shut up as he outwardly takes a calm sip of his tea.

“W-What?”

“Should you, uh, feel the need to do that...again. I’ll make it easier on you.” He taps at his cheek and hazards a glance at Jon, who’s gone rigid in his seat. He’s staring at Martin uncomprehendingly, though there’s the hint of a smile on his lips.

“T-That would be very, er, appreciated,” Jon replies in a strange, businesslike fashion. “Should I feel the need.”

Martin nods, his heart going into overdrive. They both take a sip of their tea.

“And if you-” Jon continues, face going even redder. “If you ever felt the need yourself, I could-” He tilts his head and shoulders up awkwardly in a weird little pantomime, as if leaning up to an invisible kiss. “-make it easier too?”

Martin lets out a strangled little sound. “Yeah. That, uh, sounds good.”

“Good.”

They finish their tea in silence. Jon looks away every time Martin attempts to make eye contact, and the hint of a smile has turned into a full-blown grin, though it's leveled at the table instead of him. Ridiculous, planning the logistics of their kisses like they don’t sleep in the same bed and wake up entangled. They’ve got a lot of things to talk about and work on, some more serious than others. But for now, should Martin feel the need, he can clear the dishes from the table and kiss Jon on the forehead before he walks them to the sink.

And he does just that.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30882518

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #got in on the kiss game #in the most chaste way possible #cheek kisses are valid #ghostbustermelanieking #reblogs appreciated <3

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