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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Sorry for your loss - Part III "I will get better"

Serie Masterlist here || Part II| | Read on AO3

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors.

Tag list: @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia / @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5

//-//

Chapter III - I will get better.

Your mother has an insinuating look on her face when you wake up after hearing noises of voices and walk to the kitchen, finding her sipping coffee on the table. With Wanda.

"H-hey." You greet clumsily, your sleepy brain had completely forgotten that the redhead was in your house.

"Good morning honey." Your mother said, her gaze following you all the way to the cupboards and as you served yourself. "I was just telling Wanda how I've been suggesting that you schedule a coffee so we could get to know each other, and what a coincidence it is that I come home and find her lost in my kitchen."

You yawn, shrugging your shoulders.

"Yes, fate is incredible." You mumble sarcastically, and your mother laughs lightly patting you on the arm as you sit down next to her at the table. "Did you sleep well, Wands?"

The redhead looks up at you and smiles as she nods. You stare back for a moment, but feeling your cheeks flush, you look away to your coffee.

"How was your date, Mom?" You ask next, not missing the opportunity to tease her.

"How was yours?"

You choke on your coffee, and your mother laughs. You don't risk looking at Wanda after that joke. But your mother is quick enough to change the subject.

"I need to talk to you about something, by the way." She comments stretching her arm to reach for the work case she left on the empty chair at the table. "Darcy came by the store yesterday afternoon, looking for you."

You frown in surprise, turning your head to look at your mother. She rummages through the files inside her bag, and then pulls out a red folder, handing it to you next.

"What's this?"

"Your contract."

You blink in surprise, and then open the folder. Running your hand over your face momentarily, you sigh.

"Mom..."

"Honey, give it a try." Your mother pleads touching your shoulder. "You are so talented honey. It would be so nice if you would write again."

You laugh humorlessly, running your hand through your hair. Taking a deep breath, you close the folder.

"I'll think about it."

Your words are far more than anything you have done regarding work in many months, so your mother lets out a contented exclamation and gives you a kiss on the cheek, making you laugh.

"Now, let's change the topic, okay?" you ask clumsily, making your mother laugh. She straightens up in her chair, and you look at Wanda quickly, blushing at the fond look in her eyes in your direction.

"Tell me, darling, what do you do?" Your mother asks Wanda. You go back to eating, holding back a giggle. You knew that now your mother would interrogate Wanda the same way Pietro did you, but she was far less subtle than the man was.

Several minutes later, Wanda managed to evade questions when she said she needed to go home, and you nudged your mother lightly in the ribs to get her to leave the other woman alone.

You stood up, grabbing the pots and pans from the table to take to the sink before walking Wanda to the front door while your mother pretended to read the newspaper while watching you two.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night." Wanda said at the door. You smiled, telling her it was okay. She hesitated next, and then moved closer, kissing your cheek good-bye. You nodded dismissively as she walked away, a silly smile on your face as you closed the door after she returned to the car parked in the driveway.

"I liked her." Your mother says as soon as you close the door. You give a short laugh, turning to go back to your room and take a shower. "Don't let that one get away."

"I'm not going to talk about this." You tell her with a mixture of embarrassment and impatience, looking back. Your mother laughs, glancing back at the paper.

//-//

Non-Reader Pov’s

Wanda sighed as she opened the door to the house. The boys were with Pietro, because they had insisted on spending the night after the party. And honestly, Wanda was so tired that she didn't even argue.

Erik was in the living room and didn't take his eyes off the newspaper when his daughter entered the room, throwing her shoes in the doorway and her purse on the couch.

"Should I ask where you spent the night?" he says with a slight hint that makes Wanda's face heat up, but she just continues toward her own room.

"Please, don't." She asks embarrassed, and Erik smiles, not speaking again.

After taking a shower, and getting dressed, Wanda stared at herself for a few moments in the mirror. You are fine. Everything is fine. She repeated these words a few times before leaving the bathroom.

When she returned to the living room, her father was still in the same position, but this time he lowered the newspaper to look at her.

"Honey, I ended up not meeting the friend you said you were bringing to Luna's party yesterday." He counters and Wanda presses her lips together as she goes to the kitchen, starting to sort the ingredients for lunch. "Pietro told me she left early."

"Yep." Wanda agrees a moment later. "It was my fault really. But it's okay now."

"I'd still like to meet her."

Wanda grumbles in agreement, washing some pots. Erik gets up from the armchair, walking over to the counter.

"There is something else I would like to talk to you about." He continues as he rests his hands on the marble. Wanda murmurs signaling that she is listening, but does not turn around. Her father sighs before speaking. "I need to get back home."

One of the pots slips from Wanda's hand, making a noise, but she catches it before it breaks. With a racing heart, she wipes the soap from her hands and the pot, and then dries her hands with a cloth, turning to look at her father as she rests her back against the sink.

"R-right." She agrees with tears in her eyes, but forces herself to smile. Erik looks at her with concern and guilt, but still stands firm as he says.

"Wanda, it's time." He says. "Charles misses me, I can't stay here forever."

"It's okay, papa." Wanda adds in a hoarse voice. She clears her throat lightly, trying not to despair at the thought of being home alone for the first time since Vis died. "I'll be fine."

Erik went around the countertop, moving closer to his daughter to place his hands on her shoulders.

"You can call me anytime you want." He says tenderly. "This is your home, Wan. You'll be able to make it. I'm sure."

Wanda nods, letting the tears flow. Her father hugs her next, and she responds, relaxing against his grip.

Erik breaks the embrace a moment later, smiling at his daughter before pulling away.

"I need to get things organized." He says. "When Pietro arrives with the boys, tell him I need a ride."

"You’re leaving today?" Wanda asks in surprise, and Erik sighs as he agrees. She swallows dryly, nodding frantically in assent.

Her father turns toward the second floor, and Wanda rests her hands on the countertop, taking a deep breath.

She tries not to be too anxious about the fact that starting tomorrow, when the kids go off to school, she will be all alone at home. Actually alone.

//-//

Reader’s Pov

Leaving your monthly appointment with Agatha, after spending an hour telling her about all the progress since you last saw her, you were quite hungry.

You hadn't spoken to Wanda since the day before, but when you thought about texting, you were surprised to realize that she had tried to call you while you were in therapy.

Dialing her number, you waited for her to answer.

"Hey, sorry, my cell phone was off." You say as soon as she says "Hello," slightly worried that it was important. "What did you want?"

" To see you." She says simply, and you ignore your quickened heartbeat. "I...I've been sitting in my car for ten minutes. I can't get into the house."

You frown at Wanda's tearful tone.

"What happened?"

"I just..." She starts half breathlessly. "My dad's not here. I dropped the kids off at school, and I don't...I don't want to be alone."

Your heart breaks for confession, and you shake your head.

"Wands, take a deep breath okay?." You ask her. "Send me your address."

"No, you don't have to..."

"Wanda." You interrupt with a short laugh. "I don't mind, really. Let me help you."

The woman on the other end of the line sighs heavily, and then thanks you. You smile when she hangs up and there is an address on the message app.

//-//

It takes about half an hour for you to arrive, and you walk slowly to the car parked outside, tapping the window lightly to attract Wanda's attention.

She is briefly startled, distracted by her cell phone, but smiles when she realizes it is you, then opens the door and steps out to hug you. You ignore the feeling of how good it is to have her against you as you respond.

"Everything okay?" You ask softly, and Wanda denies it with her head as soon as she lets go of you. You bite the inside of your cheek, unable to resist stroking her cheek for a moment before pushing your hand away.

"I can't get in." She confesses with water-filled eyes as she leans against the car. You sigh, standing next to her with your back to the metal. Her hand slips into yours, but neither of you say anything about it.

"Why not?"

Wanda is silent for a moment, and you imagine that she is not going to answer. But she does.

"Vis bought this house for me." She begins, and you resist the urge to wipe away the tear running down her cheek, imagining that your touch might intimidate her into shutting up. "I never...I never thought I would live in it without him."

"Is that why you asked your dad to move in with you?" you question.

"I think so." She murmurs. "I...I didn't want to be alone here. I mean...I have the boys. But they stay with Pietro so much, and there's school and karate, and music class. When Vis was alive, he worked from home, and I always had company." She explains. "Dad is retired so he’s always around, and he didn't mind staying. I don't think I've been alone here in eight months." Wanda sniffles softly, wiping away tears. "But his husband needed him to come back, and Charles is right to ask. Dad can't keep babysitting his grown daughter who can't put her life together."

"Don't talk like that." You interrupt by squeezing her hand lightly. Wanda shakes her head, running her hand through her hair and taking a deep breath. "Wanda?" You call out to her after a moment, and wait for her to look at you. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

She looks at your lips for a moment, but your head is elsewhere, so you just smile. Wanda nods in agreement.

After you help her get the groceries from the car, you wait behind her until she opens the door. Wanda takes a deep breath, and turns the handle.

Her house is very nice. Clean and organized, although the common characteristics of a house inhabited by children are visible. Wanda leaves a paper bag on the countertop and helps you with the one you are carrying, picking it up and placing it next to the other.

"So?" You ask with your hands in your pockets, looking intently at Wanda, who is trembling slightly as she puts away the items in the kitchen. "Wands?"

"I just..." She begins half impatiently. You don't get affected however, standing your ground. "I don't want you to leave."

You let out a short laugh, feeling your face heat up.

"But I need to go eventually." You say shrugging. "But while i'm here, why don't you show me around? I'll spend the afternoon with you until the boys arrive. But someday you'll need to do it alone."

"Like you moving back to your apartment?" She retorts bitterly and you blink in surprise, and Wanda is already assuming an apologetic expression, but you laugh and she looks at you with confusion.

"Ouch." You joke. " All right, smarty-pants. That was mean. But it's okay, I'm not mad." You assure her approaching as you take your hands out of your pockets to raise them to Wanda's shoulders. " Let's make a deal then?"

"What?"

"I'll keep you company at your place ." You say. "And you help me with my apartment?"

Wanda looks at you a moment, thoughtful. And then she smiles, nods, and circles her arms around you, burying her head in your neck. You don't mind that this hug lasts much longer than a hug between friends does.

//-//

You are laughing at a funny story from Wanda's college days when the front door opens and three small children come running in, throwing their shoes and backpacks on the floor. Pietro is surprised to see you too as he walks in and closes the door.

"Look who's here." He comments with a smile approaching to greet you. "How are you?"

"Good, Pietro." You reply gently. "And you?"

"Yeah, it’s all fine." He says looking at Wanda for a second. "Everything okay around here?"

Wanda bites her lip, looking away to the floor before speaking.

"She's keeping me company."

"Okay?"

"Because papa's not home." Wanda adds, and it takes a moment for Pietro to understand. He exchanges a look with you, but smiles, squeezing Wanda's shoulder for a moment before the boys join you all.

"Hello, who are you?" One of the boys asks, who hugs Wanda's right leg.

You bend down at his height, extending your hand.

"I'm your mommy's friend. You're Billy right?" You say and the boy looks quickly at his mother before shaking your hand. You shake very quickly and repeatedly without squeezing making him laugh as you tell him your name.

You turn your face to the other boy, hugging Wanda's other leg. "Good to see you again, Tommy. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you." He replies politely, making you laugh.

"Do I know her, daddy?" You heard Luna shyly ask Pietro next as she was hiding behind her cousin Tommy. Pietro smiled, nodding.

"Yes, dear, she was at your party don't you remember?"

"She helped Tommy with his headache didn't she daddy?"

Wanda frowned in confusion, but you didn't notice, your gaze on the child as you smiled. Pietro agreed again, and then Luna approached you.

"Do you want to be my friend?" She asked and you thought your heart was going to melt with such cuteness.

"Of course I do!" You replied excitedly, imitating the hand gesture you made with Billy, drawing a laugh from the girl.

"Let's take her to see our room!" Tommy suggested next, and you let out an exclamation of excitement to play with them. Exchanging a quick glance with the other two adults in the room, you let Tommy and Billy hold your hand and lead you upstairs, Luna following behind.

//-//

Non Reader’s Pov

As soon as the children were completely up the stairs, Pietro let out a giggle that attracted his sister's attention.

"What?" Wanda asked.

"Oh, nothing." He replied with a little smile. And only when he and Wanda were in the kitchen, intent on preparing lunch, did he add. "I like her."

"Shut up." Mumbled Wanda with reddened cheeks, understanding exactly what Pietro meant.

The man laughed again, walking over to stand next to his sister and chop some vegetables while she stirred the pots.

"I'll just say one more thing about it, and I promise I'll wait until you feel comfortable telling me." He says and seeing his sister's lack of response, he continues. "It's really good to see you smiling again. I'm glad you're moving on."

"Pietro..."

"Hey." The man interrupts his sister who looks clearly uncomfortable. He drops the knife he picked up to cut carrots and approaches her, holding her hands.

"There's nothing wrong with that." He says tenderly.

"Stop saying those things." Wanda asks releasing her hands to run her fingers through her hair, sighing as she leaned against the sink, breathing deeply. "I don't... I have the boys to take care of, I don't even have time to think about those kinds of things right now."

Pietro sighs, shaking his head.

"You know what, Wanda?" He begins. "Ever since we were kids, all you've done is take care of someone. You took care of babushka, and mamochka. You took care of me all my life, and then you got married and Vis joined the list too. Then came the twins." He said, and Wanda frowned, not understanding where the conversation was going, but Pietro's firm tone encouraged her not to interrupt. "When Vis died, you needed to breathe, and I really didn't mind helping you take care of the boys. But what about you. Wanda? If you're looking out for everyone else, who's looking out for you?"

"I..."

But Wanda doesn't know what to say. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, and Pietro sighs slightly, smiling to reassure his sister.

"You've been through hell the last few months, Wands." He adds. "There's nothing wrong with wanting some heaven."

"You're getting so cheesy, P." Wanda mumbles with flushed cheeks, causing Pietro to laugh lightly. The woman wiped a few tears from her face, and sniffled before shaking her head. "Come on, enough of this talk. The children must be starving."

"Yes, ma'am."

They prepare lunch in silence for a few moments. It is only when Pietro hands Wanda the cut vegetables to throw into the pot, that she remembers to ask about what happened at the party with Y/N and Tommy.

"Oh, she ran into him in the office." Pietro counters. "I think he was feeling sick again. I found them in the kitchen, eating some hot dogs. You were lucky to find a girl who does very well with children, eh?"

Wanda smiles with reddened cheeks, nudging her brother lightly with her shoulders as she mumbles at him to shut up.

//-//

Reader Pov’s

You sat on one of the twins' beds as they filled your lap with toys.

Doing your best to follow all the lines and get on with the fun, you pretended to drink imaginary tea when Tommy handed you a cup, and made a funny voice when Billy asked you to pretend to be a policewoman. Then Luna asked you to imitate a dragon and you spread your arms, running around the room behind the three of them.

Several minutes later, they got into a game of pretend play and forgot all about you, so you looked around at the posters, not sure if you should leave them alone.

Looking around, your gaze caught the pictures on the boys' dresser, and you smiled as you ran your fingers across the pictures.

You bit the inside of your cheek when you picked up one of the frames, the picture of the whole family in it.

"Careful not to break it." You heard Billy say out loud to you. From the tone, it sounded like something Wanda probably said to him a few times.

"I promise I won't break it." You assure him with a smile, turning your gaze to the photograph.

It is probably the picture of the day when the kids came back from the hospital. Wanda is holding one of them, and a tall, blond man is holding the other baby. They have contented smiles on their faces as they wave to whoever was taking the picture.

"Were you friends with dad too?" Tommy asked suddenly. You were slightly surprised to realize that he had stood up and was standing next to you.

"No, Tommy." You respond by stooping down to his height. "I didn't know your father."

"Did you know he died?" He asked next, shifting his gaze to the floor. You held your breath before letting go.

"Yes."

"Mom said that dying means you don't come home anymore." Tommy said and you felt your heart tighten.

"Yeah, honey."

"I miss daddy." Tommy confesses next, and you feel your own eyes fill with water at the scene. But not wanting to make him nervous, you swallow your emotion and smile weakly to calm him down.

"Yeah, I know you do." You tell him, extending your hand toward him for him to hold if he wants. When he accepts, you squeeze it lightly. "But the people we love never really leave us. When you think of your daddy, you feel a little pain in your chest don't you?" You ask and Tommy nods in agreement. "That's the part of your father in you. The love you feel for him stays inside your chest now. Before, you could spread that love with hugs and kisses and smiles. But now you have to keep it to yourself." You say tenderly, and Tommy seems to absorb your words. Billy and Luna are also listening to the conversation and look at you as they sit on the floor in front of a dollhouse. "Do you understand what I say?"

Tommy nods. "Yes, I'm already five."

You chuckle lightly at the quick response.

"I don't want to keep love in my chest." He grumbles. "I want daddy back."

You swallow dryly, watching the thick tears stream down the boy's face. Your gaze quickly catches Billy's, and he is crying, too.

"I'm sorry, kids." You say reaching out to wipe away the tears of the boy in front of you. "That's how death works. It's not fair, and it hurts. But that's what happens. But you all aren't alone, okay? You can always hug your mommy, and your aunt and uncle, and me too if it hurts too much.”

Tommy sniffles and throws his arms around you. You hug him back, hoping he will calm down. It doesn't take long before Luna and Billy join you.

You want to make them feel better, so you open your arms as wide as you can to squeeze them all together, and wait a few minutes before you make a noise with your mouth like a monster. And it works very well, because the next moment they are laughing.

You let them go so that they run, and you laugh as you chase them around the house. When Wanda yells from downstairs for them to come to lunch, you change direction so that they dash downstairs.

"No running on the stairs!" You quickly warn. "The monster catches those who run on the stairs. You need to go slowly."

The children exchange quick glances and then obey. You pretend to walk in slow motion so that they come down without hurrying. They run again as soon as they get down, making you laugh.

Downstairs, Wanda guides everyone to the kitchen table. You exchange a quick glance with her, putting your hands in your pockets.

"You're going to have lunch with us right?" Wanda asks with a smile. You bite your lip, thoughtfully. "Please say yes." She adds the request making you laugh lightly.

"But then I need to leave." You say with a raised finger in jest, Wanda smiles, nodding in understanding, and taking your hand to pull you into the kitchen.

Neither of you mind the look Pietro casts at your linked hands as Wanda leads you to the table.

//-//

Your week goes by very slowly.

At group therapy on Wednesday, Stephen brings games, and it is as much fun as any other time. Before you leave for lunch with Wanda, Stephen asks to speak with you both.

"I have some questions about your checklist." He says as the gymnasium empties out and you guys help him put the chairs away. "I noticed that you crossed out all the questions about grief." He begins, and you and Wanda exchange a look. "But of course it's okay, it's not a script to be followed really, it's just ideas to break the ice. And you guys are making progress, so as long as it's working for you, it's working for us."

"Stephen you are diverting from the subject." You grumble with your hands in your pockets, and the man laughs.

"Sorry." He says as he finishes folding the metal chairs in the corner of the gym. "I imagine you also realize that you have completed the vast majority of your monthly goals. With the exception of one."

You sigh, looking away. Stephen tries to smile to reassure you.

"I understand that this is difficult for you." He speaks again. "And you should also know that it's not mandatory, okay, but I would like you to try."

You swallow dryly, and it takes a moment, but you nod in agreement.

"I will." You say. "But I need time. I'm not going to drive off the first time."

"Don't worry about deadlines." He interrupts. "Find a way that works for you. Besides, you won't be doing this alone."

Stephen gives you both an encouraging look, and you take a deep breath trying not to overthink his request. When he nods in farewell, Wanda holds your hand and stands in front of you.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asks and you smile, running your gaze over her face.

"Only if you stay with me."

She smiles. "I will."

You both walk outside next.

//-//

During the following week, you set small goals with Wanda regarding her house.

Wanda is always home alone in the morning, because the kids go to school. And since you don't do anything at home, you come to spend the morning with her.

On the first day, you leave her house five minutes before the time she usually pick up the kids. You smile, hug Wanda goodbye, and tell her she can take being alone for five minutes. She catches up with you at the front door, shaking as she hugs your back. You don't have the heart to leave her alone after that, and you go with her to pick up the boys at school.

On the second day, you try again. Five minutes of solitude. Wanda is nervous as you walk out the door, but she doesn't follow you. You smile proudly as you leave.

On the third day, you leave ten minutes early. And then fifteen. Then twenty. By the third week, Wanda can be alone for hours. On week four, you don't come.

Wanda calls you, laughing and crying, saying that everything is all right. That she can breathe, and that she is not panicking anymore. And you also cry and laugh while telling her that you are proud of her.

You have started writing again by then.

Because you needed to find something to keep you busy while you were at her house and Wanda worked from home with the administration of the flower shop, and she didn't mind you bringing some books and your laptop to try to write something.

For the first few days you just watched television, occasionally chatting with Wanda when she came to ask if everything was okay and if you were comfortable before going back to her study room. But then you run your fingers through the photographs of the house and get an idea about a small story. It's brief, and simple, but it's sweet and the first thing you've written in a long time. Wanda loves it when you show it to her, and you laugh shyly when she puts the paper on the refrigerator door.

You call Darcy the second week you are helping Wanda. Your colleague is happy to hear that you are working again, and even happier to hear that you will accept the contract. It's a quick thing, and the timing is good, just what you need to get used to again. Wanda sets up a second desk in her office and you smile in appreciation, saying that she would get tired of your presence like this, but she assures you that that would never happen. You enjoy having her company while you write.

Soon you tell her that you are ready to try driving again. And Wanda sighs, saying that she is also ready to go back to the flower shop.

You agree that after she drops the kids off at school, she will pick you up at home with her car, and you will go to the flower shop together. And you can try to drive her car on the way back.

"Everything okay?" You ask Wanda when you arrive in front of the establishment. The flower shop is very nice, even from the outside you can tell. It is a small brown building, with many vases and floral decorations outside, and a sign at the entrance. You can see Monica at the counter through the glass but she is distracted by a customer and doesn't notice you two at the door.

"Yeah, I just...I just need a moment." Wanda clarifies looking at you quickly. She takes a deep breath, and then enters.

"Wanda!" Monica greets you two cheerfully as soon as the customer leaves, and you two approach her around the counter. The woman quickly hugs Wanda, who laughs lightly. "I am so happy to see you here again. And look at that, I think even the flowers have cheered up."

You smile at the interaction, letting your gaze wander around afterwards.

Flowers are not exactly something you know well, but you think they are very beautiful. And you absolutely love photographs of flower arrangements, and flowers in nature.

"And how are you, Y/N?" Monica asks loudly, attracting your attention. You take your eyes off the white flower in front of you to smile at her.

"I'm good, Monica." You reply. "It's good to see you again. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah." She says gently fiddling with some vases. Wanda disappears beyond the back doors, probably getting used to being around again. "It's been pretty quiet today, so I've had plenty of time to look around the web page."

You smile in understanding. You knew that Monica had an online store that she and Pietro ran, but you couldn't remember exactly what they sold, so you didn't comment on it. But you were glad to know that she was taking the time to check out the shop even though she was working at Wanda's flower store.

"Are you going to stick around today?" she asks next, and you put your hands in your pockets.

"I don't really know." You reply. "If Wanda stays then I'll stay."

Monica raises her eyebrows suggestively, impressed by your words. You feel your face heat up.

"B-because she's my ride." You clarify quickly, and Monica lets out a chuckle, turning to take a vase in her hands and move it around the place.

"Got it." She murmurs humorously.

Wanda joins you next, her purse was no longer with her, and you figured she was ready to work then.

"Mon, I'm going to stay in the back today, okay?" She says to Monica, who just nods encouragingly. Wanda looks at you hesitantly. "Is it okay if I leave you alone?"

You laugh lightly.

"Don't worry, Wands." You tell her. "I'm here for you. Do what you have to do."

"I'll keep you company, honey." Monica adds with amusement. Wanda laughs, glancing one last time at you before turning toward the office. You look at the other woman next. "Tell me, have you ever tended a garden before?"

//-//

You are washing the dirt from your hands when Wanda finishes. She was only inside the small office for at most three hours, much less than a normal workload, but you don't say anything and Monica doesn't care either.

After thanking Mon for teaching you how to grow a garden, you say goodbye to her with a kiss on the cheek, wishing her a good rest of her shift, and leave with Wanda from the flower shop. You were anxious because you are going to be in the driver's seat now.

Wanda left the car in the supermarket parking lot at the corner of the place, at this time the surroundings were relatively empty.

You two were standing facing the driver's door.

"Here we are." She said beside you. You took a deep breath.

"Here we are." You repeated her words.

Wanda slipped one of her arms around your waist, hugging you from the side, waiting for you to be ready to open the door. And it took a moment until you did.

As soon as you sat down in the driver's seat, Wanda turned around the car and got in, sitting next to you in the passenger seat.

Your heart was racing, and you were static. When you risked looking down, you had a flash of memories, and your breath hitched and your eyes filled with tears. Wanda noticed, and reached for your hand quickly. You sat there in silence for about forty minutes until you stopped crying.

"Sorry, I'm wasting your time." You muttered breathlessly, and Wanda shook her head, squeezing your hand and raising the other to make you look at her. She stroked your cheek tenderly as she spoke.

"Don't say that. I want to be here and help you." She whispers while wiping your tears with her thumb. "As you have done for me."

You sniffled, trying to smile a little. Wanda just looked at you as you closed your eyes, trying to normalize your breathing.

"Let's try again tomorrow, okay?" Wanda murmurs to you. You gasp slightly, agreeing.

Then you switched places, and Wanda drove you home. You mumbled a thank you, giving the woman a long kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. You didn't notice how she squeezed the steering wheel and her face flushed when your lips touched her skin.

//-//

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #sorry for your loss #marvel imagines #wanda x yn #wanda maximoffxreader #wandamaximoffxyou #wandamaximoffxfemreader

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Prelude - Idek man I’m a sucker for a lil bondage. Reminder!!! Coercive sex, or any sex where there isn’t any consent, is no-no!!!!! that is rape you guys! this type of behavior where a respected authority figure takes is absolutely not cool under any circumstances. I can’t believe that this is something that I have to make clear, but I don’t condone any of these actions, nor do I support this behavior, or any behavior that’s similar.

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader

Warnings - NSFW (no penetration), noncon, dub con, fingering, abuse of power,

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/4TQcARE7Fd58akNhr3N7AE?si=ffl2jJviRAyVzK3QtU85Jg

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You’re a hero he’s being forced to work with, even though technically he isn’t supposed to have an agency, and technically, he’s supposed to work alone.

Apparently your superiors decided to ignore those two facts, practically dumping you on top of him the second school lets out.

You’re adorable, all fresh faced and young, full of hope and energy and everything that he’s not. Aizawa tries to get out of it, arguing with your superiors while you just stand there watching, but ultimately, he leaves with you trailing behind him.

Tonight, it would seem he’d be working with you.

The whole way downtown you talk his ear off, chattering just like Hizashi does when he’s extra nervous - except, you don’t seem to be nervous.

No, you’re excited, bragging about your accomplishments, your skills. How many villains you’ve turned in, how many civilians you’ve saved. Aizawa quickly gets irritated by your incessant yapping, how you sit there and boast about how good of a hero you are.

From what he can tell, you haven’t been a hero long.

There aren’t any noticeable scars on your form, and if there were, your flashy, skin-tight outfit would’ve exposed them, just like it’s exposing you. It’s impractical, illogical, leaving your skin open to cuts and burns and any other sort of attack.

Plus, it’s distracting. He figures it’s designed to get better ratings from male viewers, to get the videos of you rescuing civilians or taking down low-ranking villains more views.

You don’t watch your surroundings as intently as Aizawa does - a woman sniffles in an alleyway as the two of you pass by, and Aizawa’s immediately on high alert at the sound, looking for potential traps or incoming enemies. You didn’t even register the sound.

Thankfully, you’re not as loud as Hizashi, and when Aizawa holds his hand up to signal you to shut up, you do, immediately clamping you mouth shut with an audible click. At least you can follow orders.

You have no idea of stealth, footsteps falling heavy as you walk, swinging your arms jauntily and seemingly uncaring of who sees you. It makes Aizawa’s blood boil. You sit there, patting yourself on the back about what a good hero you are, yet you’re barely better than a bad sidekick. A sidekick Aizawa wouldn’t-doesn’t want tagging along.

After the third time of you bumping into him after he’s stopped to listen to the sounds of the city, high on the rooftops, Aizawa wants to give you a pinch, scold you for not being ready for hero work, tell you the truth about your “skills” and how good of a hero you really are.

But he’s a patient man, and he knows how to calm his irritation by taking deep breaths. Lord knows his students test his resolve to resort to corporal punishment, so he should reign himself in from considering using it with you. Still, you’re an annoying, young little thing - excited and prideful, trying to show off to the older hero.

Aizawa can deal with it though, as long as he ignores your blunders.

The way you talk too much, how you don’t pay attention, the way you constantly bump into him because you haven’t realized he’s stopped in his tracks. You’re foolish.

It’s not until you almost push him off the edge of a building with your mindless blundering does Aizawa lose his patience.

The man rounds on you, blood pumping quick and fast in his heart from the adrenaline of teetering over the edge, feeling himself about to fall. He probably could’ve caught himself with his capture weapon, but what if he hadn’t? Your stupid mistake could’ve cost him his life, his career.

It takes him less than a second to have your wrists tangled up in his capture weapon, dragging you towards him so he can tower over you, fisting a hand in your hair.

“You’re a shitty hero.” Is all he says, pushing you to the side. Aizawa knows that will sting more than anything else he could say - it’s obvious that you look up to the older man. He wouldn’t put it past you to be the one who begged your agency to dump you on him for the night, so you could talk to him, learn some trade secrets, gush to your little hero friends how you were “trained” by Eraserhead himself.

He’s expecting you to be indignant, to try and argue your case. What he’s not expecting, is for you to attack him as soon as he retracts his capture weapon back onto his neck.

It’s almost laughable, how bad you are at fighting. He can hear you run at him, anticipates the first swing you take at his back, easily tucks forward and out of your reach. When he turns, you're standing there, chest heaving (Your suit really doesn’t leave anything to the imagination, does it? He wonders if it’s something your agency chose, or if it’s a personal preference) as you stare at him with a fire in your eyes.

“You have no right to say that to me.” You grind out, before running at him again.

Now that Aizawa can see you, it’s even easier to dodge your attack, ducking and blocking each punch or kick with ease. “I wouldn’t even want you for a sidekick. You’re sloppy-”

He jabs his fist into your side, and you let out a pained gasp.

“Poorly trained-”

A quick backhand across your face sends you reeling, and Aizawa sighs. He didn’t even put that much force behind it.

“Dangerously prideful-”

His capture weapon whips around your legs, tangling them and pulling them right out from under you. Aizawa moves to yours side, crouching by your head so he can see your eyes.

“And unfit to be a hero.”

You’re winded, but despite that, you thrash, infuriated by the words. You try to strike out at Aizawa, but you find yourself quickly wrapped up in his capture weapon, immobilized.

“Instead of doing important work, trying to keep this city safe, I have to deal with an arrogant brat.”

Aizawa stands up, using his capture weapon to drag you to your feet as well. He takes less than a moment to stride to the edge of the building, pulling you along with him, making you stumble.

With a flick of his wrist, you’re leaning out over the edge, the only thing stopping you from falling being Aizawa’s capture weapon wrapped around your wrists, lacing over your chest, holding you back.

He hears you squeak in fear, watches you go completely still as he holds you there, lets you feel the fear of being dangled above the edge, flirting with the height.

“You saw how easy it was for me to subdue you, how easily you yielded. How do you even beat villains?” Aizawa clicked his tongue. “I’m worried about the future of this city if you’re what we have to offer in terms of a hero.”

You tensed up, obviously hurt by the words. Aizawa felt no remorse - he truly was disquieted when faced with the knowledge that people like you were the next generation of peace-keepers.

With a jerk jerk, you were yanked away from the edge, landing on your butt, air whooshing out of your lungs in a gasp. Aizawa crouched down behind you, leaning close, letting you feel the heat of his body.

“Do you know what would happen if a villain had you tied up like this?”

You quickly shook your head, silent. Aizawa almost wanted to laugh, how were you this naive?

He let his hands rest on your shoulders, let them slowly slide down to your exposed collarbones, further, down to the tops of your breasts.

“Stop... please...” You whispered, frozen.

Aizawa huffed. “A villain wouldn’t stop. You’d be powerless against one. I doubt the “villains” you’ve been taking down could even be classified as such.”

He let his hands drop even further, until he could feel the weight of your breasts in his hands, thinly covered by your costume.

“Let me guess, they’ve all been petty criminals? Bicycle thieves... pickpockets... People who accidentally let the parking meter run out?” He chuckled.

Aizawa kneaded your tits, the warm flesh pliant, soft, delicious. Your nipples were hardening under his touch, pressing against your suit, peaking into solid shapes against your chest. He let his touch focus on them, rolling and pinching the little buds until you were whining beneath his hands, squirming in discomfort as he played with your tits.

“A real villain would have so much fun with you. You’d be so easy, so effortless to hold down. They could do whatever they wanted to you.” He purred into your ear.

You relaxed when Aizawa pulled his hands away, stood up to circle around to your front. You thought he was done, thought he would let you free from his capture weapon. You thought wrong.

The man sat down in front of you, leaning back easily onto his ankles. You were quickly pulled into his lap, crying out at the way he jerked you closer to him, until your fronts were pressed together, until he was pinching and massaging your plump rear.

“What a shame, loosing an untrained hero to a villain. If you’re really unlucky, they won’t kill you once they’re finished with your body.” Aizawa watched you shiver. “No, they’ll keep you alive, and in the clutches of evil men? that’s much, much worse than death.”

Your suit exposed your legs, had a short, flashy skirt that barely covered your ass. Underneath, a flimsy leotard protected your modesty, easily pulled to the side.

A panicked whine tore from your lungs as you felt Aizawa’s thick finger ghost along your folds, rubbing the delicate flesh, acquainting himself with the feel of a tender young body.

The hand on your ass was still groping, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer, until you have to turn your face to the side, chin hooking over the man’s shoulder. Aizawa nuzzled your neck, breathing in the subtle scent that covered your body, some type of perfume, a scent he couldn’t place, but pleasant nonetheless.

When he felt wetness slowly beginning to seep from your cunt, Aizawa grinned, rolling his eyes. You would be eaten up by a villain, completely destroyed.

He slipped his pointer finger inside, circling his thumb against your clit as he did so, shushing your frightened noises at the unexpected intrusion.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if a villain targeted you. With a costume like this? Your obvious inexperience? The way you boast and brag about what a big girl you are, how proficient you are at taking down big, bad criminals?”

Another finger slipped inside, stretching you wide. You were so warm, so soft, squeezing his fingers like you were trying to suck him in. It was almost like your pussy was desperate for more, aching for something bigger.

But Aizawa had standards, morals. He just wanted to scare you a bit, not ruin you completely.

With two fingers inside of you, he stroked along your velvety walls, searching for the special little spot he knew would make you squeal. You were trembling, draped against his body like a rag doll, hips twitching ever so slightly when he did something you liked.

He tapped your clit again with his thumb, and you stifled a moan. Aizawa resisted the urge to smile; you were so easy.

As his fingers explored your cunt, probing and stretching and scissoring you open, he let his lips attach onto your neck. He could let himself indulge a little - after all, your agency had insisted you come along, even after he told them no.

With a shrill cry, you bucked into his hand, trying to press your hips down further. Aizawa hooked his fingers again, pressing down on the spot he had just rubbed with his fingers, and you yelped again, rocking down, fucking yourself against his thick digits.

He found it.

Starting slowly, the man began fingerfucking you, making sure to hit the spongy, sensitive spot that had you moaning and crying, shaking in his arms.

He found himself quickly loosing patience, especially with the way you wiggled and fidgeted in his lap, trying to chase the sensation his fingers provided.

With no warning (not that he’d given you one once throughout this experience), Aizawa went from his slow, gentle pace, to one that made his forearm flex, one that made your back arch and your toes curl in those impractical, stupid high heels.

You were quickly reduced to mush, able to do nothing but let Aizawa fuck you to tears with his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel it, how you were almost there. You clenched down on his fingers, sweat shined across your skin, you were absolutely gushing with your creamy wetness, the liquid sliding down his hand and soaking into his pants.

Messy.

Another few quick, hard flicks of his wrist, and suddenly you were squirting, forcing his fingers out of your pussy, writhing from the stimulation. A stream of wet was forced out of you, spraying all over his pants, his hand, the concrete of the rooftop.

Your legs shook with the force of it, eyes rolling back in your head. Aizawa knew you were lost in pleasure, so far gone you couldn’t do much but moan and gurgle brokenly as you slowly came down from your orgasm.

He let you lean against him for a few moments longer, let you pant into his ear, felt your sweaty skin stick to his own.

But he was tired, and he wanted to finish patrolling, and you were barely more than a nuisance, and he needed to find somewhere to jerk off.

He wasn’t a rapist, after all.

So with gentle hands, Aizawa untied you from his capture weapon, slowly sliding you off his lap and onto the ground. He gave you a few moments to collect yourself, rising to his feet to turn and give you privacy as you righted your costume, smoothed down your frazzled appearance, caught your breath.

He was so hard.

When you finally joined his side, you were meek, quiet, subdued. Aizawa barely glanced at you (If he did, he might do something he’d regret, not that he already hasn’t) before striding forward, moving with purpose towards the next roof top.

Hopefully, you’d learned your lesson, and wouldn’t run your mouth so much.

Hopefully, you’d train harder, try to strengthen your fighting style.

Hopefully, Aizawa found somewhere he could jerk off, before his primal urges coerced him into doing something more befitting of a villain.

If that happened, it wasn’t that big of a deal. It’s not like you would tell anyone.

#creepy aizawa #creepy behavior #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa sensei #bnha aizawa #aizawa #my hero academia aizawa #Shouta #yandere aizawa shouta #tw #careful #bad morals #bad Aizawa

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kayxleeee · 4 years ago

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Marvel Smuts & Such: Why Wattpad Sucks

I’m so upset... wattpad has deleted everything I’ve worked so desperately to create without a rhyme or a reason. I had over 300,000 reads on a BWWW Marvel insert reader story and a very active community... For the last two years I have been posting and updating whenever I could, and when I did I always gave it my entire being.

Back story: I created this book in the summer of 2019, it was BWWM for all the people like myself who never get to see themselves inserted with an Avenger. THE READER WITH CURLY COILS AND DARKSKIN! But of course anyone could read, I never once singled anyone out because it was all so inclusive! I even stated that anyone was free to read and people of all races and colors did! I also stated that it was 18+ in the bio and the story was under “Mature content” so I am totally unsure as to why it was deleted. Now mind you the age for users on WP is 17+ so it is not against the norm to have smuts related stories on that app (THERE ARE SO MANY SMUTS ON THAT DAMN APP) I wrote about Steve, Tony, Bucky, Loki, Peter Q,Thor, Pietro etc... Inserted with a black reader (Y/n)...Smut: Sexual Such: Fluff. I wrote more fluff than smut as of recently tbh but besides that's besides the point...

I log-on after posting a small fluffy part last night and my entire story is deleted!!!NOWHERE TO BE SEEN! My heart is broken- just when I finally felt like I belonged and my writing mattered. I was heavily depended on this community I created to help me through this troublesome time and hopefully do the same for others. I literally just began to feel like my self because I have been battling with depression and anxiety because of this pandemic and the circumstances we are in. You have absolutely no idea how traumatizing that is when you work so hard for the support you receive and now everything is just gone EVEN THE MAJORITY OF YOUR WORK. Now I literally have nothing. I reached out to customer service hoping they would be able to help, but still have yet to be responded back to.

Now I have always loved reading fics on Tumblr, it is my preferred platform, but writing on Wattpad was easier....So I guess I’ll come on over here to Tumblr and try and write for fun, but I’m overly exhausted. I feel like I will never have the support that I had on WP and it just HURTS, it really breaks my heart that something I worked on so heavily, my baby, is just gone without even a simple goodbye to all of the people who have supported me. I have no back up of my old writings and my drafts are completely gone. I was literally pouring my soul into a Bucky x Wakandian Princess story and was so excited because it was about 40 pages (according to Wattpad) long and really was cannon to FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLIDER. I was NEARLY finished and ready to post, I probably would have posted it today... UGH! I spent soooo many hours on that app, dedicated so much time just to be shitted on. I m crying as I am writing this because I wasn't even warned that my material would be deleted. I feel so alone and left in the dust. WP is so glitchy and impossible it is ridiculous! And the fact that they WANT people to pay for premium reading WTF... I do not get how they can take someone else's work down without a warning. This is probably all over the place, but I AM PISSED and heart broken! 47 parts DOWN THE DRAIN + the 7 Drafts that I had been working on.

IDEK what to tag

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cora-vizsla · 4 years ago

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A Chance Encounter

Rating: Explicit? Idk I would say 18+ because it’s suggestive.

Word Count: ~1k

Warning: Flirting, Suggestive talk, Pining, Sexual Tension

A/N: This popped in my head and I just kind of started writing. Idek. It is what it is. I had Guys My Age by Hey Violet playing and this is what came from it.

What is the best thing to do when you have a broken heart? Find a distraction as quick as possible. Okay, you knew it probably wasn’t the best thing to do, but you were hell bent on finding someone something to distract you.

That’s how you ended up in the cantina across town. You had spent years loving someone that just couldn’t love you back. No matter how hard you tried it wasn’t enough and you were over it. It was time to forget, even for just a little while. It was time to have fun. It was time to just kriffing lose yourself.

You could think about your actions and your mental state in the morning. Between the liquor and your ever-growing needs, you didn’t care who you flirted with. The guy in front of you was handsome but you knew it wouldn’t end up being very satisfying for you. He was cocky and far too sure of himself.

Flirting was okay though, right? At least he was interested in you for the time being. It gave you a reprieve from the war raging around the galaxy and your broken heart.

You looked up from the table when you saw someone in black robes walk in. Your chest seemed to catch when you realized that amber eyes were looking directly into yours. With a devilish grin he sauntered over to you and your companion bolted.

“Seat taken?”

“Not anymore, apparently.”

The man sat down, leaning back with the same grin on his face. His dirty blonde hair fell into his face, so he carded it back with his hand. He screamed danger and you knew for a fact you had never been so interested in someone before.

“Tell me, darling, what is such a fine woman like yourself doing in an uncivilized place like this?”

His accent was absolutely from Coruscant. Your eyebrows raised in surprise at how sophisticated he sounded considering how dangerous he seemed to be.

“Could say to same to you. You definitely aren’t from here.”

He chuckled darkly and nodded once.

“You’re observant. What else do you see?”

You smirked at him, wondering just how this game was going to go.

“Hmm, well you’re very sure of yourself. Walked right in and came to me even though I was sitting with someone.”

“I have good reason to be sure of myself, darling.”

You laughed lightly and leaned forward, not missing the way his eyes shot down to your low-cut shirt before moving back to your face.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say your robes designate you as a Jedi. However, no Jedi I’ve ever seen has eyes like those.”

“Oh? And how many Jedi have you known.”

You sat back, crossing your arms with an amused smirk.

“A few.”

He hummed and played with his beard for a moment before shifting so he was resting his arms on the table.

“What else?”

“You’re trouble.”

He laughed and gave you a feral smile. You felt like electricity was shooting through your entire body. Every instinct you had was telling you to bolt. He was a Sith, that much was for certain.

“You probably are right. Running would have been a good idea. At first.”

Your face fell for a moment before you remembered that force users could listen to thoughts. He smirked again and nodded.

“It’s not a good idea anymore?”

“Oh no, darling.”

“And why is that?”

He reached out and hooked his finger underneath your chin and pulled your face towards his. His grin turned dangerous as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Because I’m very good at getting what I want.”

“Is that a Sith trait?”

He chuckled and ran his thumb across your bottom lip, causing your breath to hitch.

“What do you know of Sith, sweetheart?”

“I know they’re dangerous. I know they destroy everything they get their hands on. It’s best to stay away from them at all costs.”

“Hmm. Tell me, are you afraid of being destroyed?”

Your mouth fell open and he chuckled darkly again.

“When I walked in here, I could hear it. You need a distraction; something to make you forget. We both know the man who previously sat here wouldn’t have been able to please you in the way that you need. Right?”

You nodded and he grabbed your chin roughly but not enough to hurt you.

“Use your words, sweetheart. I want to hear you.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Good girl. Now that we both agree what you’re here looking for; are you afraid of being destroyed?”

He leaned in further, so his mouth was right by your ear as he growled.

“Are you afraid of me destroying you?”

You let out a small gasp and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Make your choice, sweetheart. What’s it going to be? Are you going to let the stories of how dangerous the Sith are deter you? Or are you going to let me make you forget everything you came out here to escape?”

His amber eyes seemed to tear right through you as you looked into them. You knew he could make you do whatever he wanted yet here he was giving you a choice. He wanted to give you his attention in a way you had been craving. He may have been a Sith but something about him made you feel safer than half the men in the cantina.

“They also don’t know how to take care of you the way I do.”

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a smirk.

“I don’t even know your name, Sith.”

He laughed and stood, holding out his hand for you. Once you took it, he pulled you quickly into him, wrapping his arm around your waist. His free hand gently ran up your neck, pushing your head back so you were looking him directly in the eyes.

“Most know me as Darth Veth.”

He leaned in, speaking loud enough for you to hear but making sure his words were only for you.

“However, my dear, you’ll be screaming Obi Wan very soon.”

Tagging @nightsisterloveskenobifett because she’s going to hate me.

Permanent Tag List:

@mapplestrudel @cannedsoupsucks

If you would like to be added/removed please let me know!

#sith!obi wan #sith!kenobi #starwars #star wars #fanfic #don't hate pls #sith!obi wan x reader #female!reader

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killerhatcanons · 4 years ago

Note

Could u do a childhood friends hc with Trapper, The Shape and Ghostface?? 🥺🥺

Of course my friend! uwu

So we can imagine most of Michael‘s and Trapper‘s childhoods but I don’t think Danny has much of a background lore going as far soo I‘d personally also put him into a difficult household (even though I wish it were different) I also think I’ll put this one into a text form

TW: idek what to tag this with but I’m guessing abuse/domestic violence

The Trapper (Evan MacMillan)

Evan had always in a way idolized his father and his father had never deemed anyone worthy to get close to his son. Needless to say Evan didn’t have many friends at all when he was young. The other children were scared of his father and the stories their parents had told them about the MacMillan family. They were gruesome, as much as a parent would allow their child to hear but enough to ensure they would never want to get close to the MacMillan child.

You had always thought it was unfair. It wasn’t Evan’s fault that his dad was mean and you didn’t want him to sit alone over something he wasn’t responsible for. So you approached him and you kept approaching him even as he tried to push you away. He knew about the stories and he himself knew very well that his father wasn’t the kindest person. Time and time again had his father hit him for not following his orders, had thrown away his sketches and sent him to bed on an empty stomach as a punishment. He understood why others feared his father and he didn’t blame them. Even though he loved his father, he also despised him. He knew no one but him would endure his father’s punishments so when the tiny you approached him he tried his best to push you away. You were far too fragile, you couldn’t get close to him or his father.

But you didn’t care. No matter how many times he rudely sent you away you always returned. And as time passed he felt himself slowly growing fond of you. You were nice to him, the only person that made him feel warm and he didn’t want you to leave him anymore. He wanted to keep your kindness, to keep the warmth you made him feel through the utter coldness he was accustomed to. So he allowed you to stay if only for a while which soon became longer and longer.

You played together in elementary school and he would protect you from anyone that even attempted to bully you. Or ask you out for that matter. He soon had to realize that he grew more and more possessive of you, that he didn’t want anyone to take you away from him. You had been with him since the beginning, had shown him kindness and understanding, had been there for him and took care of the bruises his father kept giving him. As cheesy as this sounded you had been his sun all along, naturally and selflessly giving him warmth without ever being asked to. His one and only friend.

Shit I might need to turn this into a fiction maybe? haha we’ll see

The Shape (Michael Meyers)

Michael had always been the silent child in your kindergarten group. First everyone thought he was just a little shy but you soon realized that he simply refused to speak. Of course your teacher tried to convince him to talk, even had a meeting with his parents but they assured that he learned speaking, however at one point simply stopped any form of communication. To the adults he was a hopeless case. They tried desparately to change him, but he wouldn’t budge.

To you he was a welcome friend. You didn’t mind his silence, you knew he was listening to you and you could still play together. Well, it was mostly you telling him what to do with the toys, because he himself wouldn’t do anything besides holding them in his hand, but that wasn’t much of an issue to you.

Of course you tried to get him to play with your other friends too, but his lack of enthusiasm often got in the way and the other kids got scared of his silent and emotionless behavior. However, even when they told you to, you refused to stop playing with Michael. Yes, he was a little odd, but that didn’t make him a bad child (killing his sister later lowkey did tho oop) so you didn’t want him to be alone. Everyone needs some company, right?

Over time you noticed, that he would remember what you had told him to do with the toys, instead of simply holding them, to which you would give him a big smile.

This improvement you saw in his behavior made you even sadder when one day he stopped coming to the kindergarten. At first you had thought he was sick, but weeks went on without a single trace of him or his parents.

Upon asking you own they had told you he was sent to another kindergarten instead, that was specialized on children like him. You were sad of course, but you accepted it, hoping he would find more friends to play with now.

You only later found out he was sent to an asylum instead of another kindergarten.

The Ghostface (Danny Johnson)

Danny Johnson did not have the nicest childhood imaginable. After her divorce his mother didn’t become directly abusive to him, more so the alcohol.

He liked to think that the slurring woman bruising him wasn’t his mother, that it was simply someone else, someone more aggressive trying to be her. He didn’t want to think his mother hated him, he didn’t want to believe she would bruise him, would shout at him and blame him for what had happened to her marriage.

Even as a young boy he knew to cover his bruises. He loved his mother, he didn’t want her to be alone even though the woman the alcohol brought out of her hurt him in every way possible. But it was his fault right? His dad didn’t want him so he left him and his mother. He was responsible and the least he thought he could do was let her let out her pain on the person responsible for her misery.

In school he didn’t talk much to anyone. He was a rather shy kid, not wanting to cause anymore trouble for anyone. At lunch he sat alone, but he didn’t mind. He also didn’t mind being called weird or gross for his greasy long hair or the bags under his eyes. Not that he wanted to talk to anyone about himself anyways. Not even to you as you approached him.

You had watched him sit alone for a long time. He looked sad, restless, sometimes even scared and despite not even knowing him, it hurt you to see anyone in this state. So you went to talk to him. However, it took a while for him to stop avoiding you as best as he could and he eventually opened up to you a bit. He still didn’t tell you about the abuse until you reached middle school, but when he did you were determined to help him, to clear his understanding of him not being responsible for anything and to get him a new home.

With the help of your parents you were able to get him out of his household and soon find a acquainted family that was willing to take him in. The Olsens tried their best to provide him with everything he needed. And while you knew it would take time for him to heal, you were relieved he was part of a loving family now, that would help him back onto a safe track.

You couldn’t have known that the damage to Danny’s brain had already been done and there was no way of saving him from the twisted prison of his own mind.

OOK THESE ARE WAY DARKER THAN YOU PROBABLY WANTED BUT I OOP GOT CARRIED AWAY

I can attempt to make it more wholesome a second time if you want these were just the most logical things that came to my mind haha... honestly idk but I usually think that someone isn’t just yk born a killer (except Michael maybe pfft) so I came up with some uhm logical upbringings to the boys haha yeet..

Anyways I’m considering turning the Evan and Ghosty one into their own separate story thingsies. Kinda hard to do something with Michael bc uhm Psychiatry but possibly something with a reader that’s also in treatment or we pull a Harley Quinn sometime who knows!

For now I hope you aren’t too mad that this was so... dark instead of cute oop >:)) if you’re mad just let me die on the hook next time pffft

#evan macmillan #evan macmillan x reader #the shape #the shape x reader #the trapper #the trapper x reader #trapper #trapper x reader #michael meyers #michael meyers x reader #danny johnson #danny johnson dbd #danny johnson x reader #dbd killers #dbd #dbd headcanons #the ghostface #the ghostface x reader #pre-entity

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katie-writes24 · 4 years ago

Text

Say It Don’t Spray It

Pairing: John Laurens x reader

Warnings: Language, alcohol, suggestive material, FUCK TON OF ANGST KIDS, kinda sad, John doesn’t know when to shut up :,)

Part 2

Request: hey! my request was a laurens x reader where they're frenemies, n one day they get into this huge fight that stems from nothing, angst angst angst, and then he comes to her house to apologize. they simultaneously realize they have feelings for one another, and fluff fluff fluff...idek know after that lol - @notebookgirl30

Okay....WAYYYY OVERDUE I TOTALLY APOLOGIZE! Ngl this was a bit of a struggle to write because I just wanted to get a good feel of their “relationship/friendship” but I think I got it. Maybe? But I built a bigger storyline than expected so there’ll be a part 2. But yeah, hope you enjoy! Thank you @tinywhim for the title (you’re a real one, you don’t even know). Let me know if you want to be tagged! Leave me some feedback PLEASE!! And yeah! Enjoy!

“Has anyone ever told you you’re super boring?”

Y/N scoffed, “I’ve always loved your compliments, Angelica.”

She rolled her eyes, giving her coworker an exaggerated look. “You have nothing better to do on a Friday night. Normal people go out, and party and have fun! It’s the weekend, Y/N, you don’t have to worry about anything!”

That was an overstatement. Y/N actually did have lots to do, like finish her report and pay her bills and visit her parents and do actual adult things. Her partying days were over in college, and she knew that nothing good could come from a night surrounded by all of Angelica’s friends, some who happen to be their coworkers.

This was different though, in a way. Yes, it was Angelica’s birthday, but she was never good at social interaction, especially not at a club. These days she’ll go out with the Schuyler’s for a couple of drinks and go home and call it a day. That was enough for her, and she was okay with it. She was perfectly fine with her own friends telling her how she’s a buzzkill when it comes to partying. She was fine with not putting herself out there to guys because she didn’t think it was necessary right now.

She was comfortable at this point in her life, and she wasn’t going to ruin that over a drunken night at the club.

“Aren’t you two like best friends? You’re gonna miss your best friend’s birthday party?” Y/N turned to find John tutting in mock disapproval, swaying slightly on his chair.

“Will you butt out?” Y/N glared hard but it didn’t have the proper effect when he only laughed.

That’s the other problem. John is going to be there, which could only mean chaos. She’s been to enough office parties over the last two years to notice that he can’t hold his liquor and is incredibly loud. Not only were his obnoxious traits an issue, but there was something about him that got under her skin, not totally in a good way.

Eliza would never make her forget her little crush that sparked at the beginning of her job, when John was always nice to her and would give her this blinding smile. That sailed long ago, but apparently, a drunken night full of shared secrets was enough for the Schuyler to remember. Now, maybe there were some things that Y/N could pick out to prove to herself that he was an actual decent human being, but the John Laurens that had been sitting beside her for years was still John Laurens.

“I’m sitting three feet away from you,” He gestured at their desks that were only separated by a couple of inches. “I can literally hear everything you’re saying.”

“And he’s right!” Angelica reached over her desk and grabbed her hand. “It wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t there. Please, Y/N, it’s just a couple of hours. I promise if you really get uncomfortable you can leave, but I know you won’t because it is going to be amazing!”

Rolling her eyes yet again, Y/N did feel a little guilty. Angelica has always been there for her, through all the ups and downs, she’s been her biggest support system. It wouldn’t be fair to not celebrate her birthday with her.

“Fine,” Angelica practically squealed at her grumble. “But don’t count on me as your designated driver, because I might really dip out if it gets too rowdy for me.”

“Might as well not go then. Put me and Alex together, pshhh, you’ll be walking out the door as soon as you step in.” John winked, like he just knew how to get Y/N fired up and ready to argue back. Angelica knew too, as she pulled her hands toward her again, gaining her attention.

“Ignore him, I swear we will all have a good time! Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

She looked hopeful, almost as if this was her intention all along. But Y/N knew better, no matter how many times Angelica tried to set her up, she wouldn’t invite her somewhere only to be mislead and be set on a blind date.

“I am not interested, I am perfectly capable of finding someone on my own, if I choose.” She made sure to point out the last part so her friend would drop the subject.

“I’m just saying,” Angelica put her hands in up in defense, but still had that knowing look on her face like she didn’t believe her. Y/N sighed and got up from her chair, heading towards the break room for another coffee.

Upon entering, she noticed Thomas was already by the coffee machine, pouring his own cup. He looked up and raised a brow. “Long day?”

“And it’s only getting started,” Y/N rubbed a hand over her face and motioned towards the machine. “Are you done hogging that now?”

“Woah, woah, what did I do to be treated with such attitude?” Thomas chuckled and grabbed a cup for her.

“Sorry, I’m just...kind of stressed, not really looking forward to the weekend?”

“You mean Angelica’s party?” Thomas handed the cup over to her, nodding at her thanks and watched her add cream into the liquid.

“Yes, actually. I’m not really good at parties, I think they’re too exciting for me. Go on, say it, I’m a boring buzzkill.” It’s not like she’s ever heard anything different before when trying to explain how she’d rather stay at home and unwind while reading a book or watching tv and just relaxing, instead of being surrounded by sweaty bodies and drinking till she grows numb.

“Now why are you putting words in my mouth? I was actually going to say I agree with you.” Y/N looked up in shock, not believing that Thomas Jefferson was one to refuse a party invitation.

“Really? You don’t like parties?”

“Not that I don’t like them, sometimes they grow old. It’s the same scene over and over again and I’d rather switch it up a bit, change the location, you know?” He had a small smile on his face, looking like he was fonding over some memory.

“You’re right, it must be so hard being invited to parties all the time!” Y/N smirked as he gasped dramatically in mock offense. It only lead to them giggling to each other, only stopping when someone else cleared their throat from the doorway.

Y/N found John standing, his usual smile gone and replaced with a frown and furrowed brows. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, I was just leaving actually,” Thomas made way to the exit before hesitating, turning back to look at Y/N. “I’ll see you at the party, Y/N.”

She waved shyly, watching him walk away. It was comforting talking to Thomas, in a way. They didn’t do it very often, but when they did Y/N felt relaxed.

Lost in her thoughts, a cough startled her and she realized she was standing in John’s way. Y/N stepped to the side, muttering an apology and thinking how Friday night might not be so bad.

~~~

It’s not that Y/N doubted that Angelica would not settle for less than a full out, top quality club. But she didn’t think that it would include a private floor, filled with a bunch of people that Y/N didn’t know. Luckily, she spotted the birthday girl herself from across the room.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” Angelica screamed over the music that was blasting from the floor below. She was well passed tipsy already, but she knew that Angelica would want to sober up before the night was over. She was never one to purposefully forget her birthday. “Come on, let’s get you a drink!”

She pulled her over towards the overcrowded bar, pushing passed drunks and couples dancing, Y/N even got stumbled into and turned to find a familiar head of curls.

“Watch it, Laurens!” The glare sent his way was enough to make him sheepishly smile.

“My bad,” John walked off towards a booth in the corner, surrounded by a few other men, one who she had recognized as a friend of Thomas.

A shot was shoved into her hand and soon enough, so were two more. Once a proper drink was in her hold, Angelica invited her to a game of pool with her sisters.

Somehow, Y/N got surrounded by a bunch of people that she didn’t know. Angelica had been dragged over by a short man, which meant Y/N was dragged as well. It was the booth full of John’s friends, and they had made their impression, that was for sure.

“Ah, and who do we have here?” Thomas’s friend came over and smiled, making Angelica smirk and push his chest.

“Laf, this is Y/N,” Even though they had never met before, Lafayette beamed at the mention of her name.

“So, this is the famous Y/N we have heard so much about, heh?” He grinned devilishly, like he knew something that she didn’t. It was strange, what would Angelica have said about her?

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N stuck out her hand politely.

“Oh please, the pleasure is all mine, cherie!” He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss in her knuckles. She giggled at his performance, looking to see if anyone else was buying the act. But when she looked around to see if anyone else knew something, she only saw John glaring at his friend while sipping on his drink.

Her coworker’s odd behavior was enough for her to move herself to the bar, ordering another drink for herself. As the bartender handed her the cup, he told her that it was already paid for, pointing her in the direction to a man across the room. He was cute, and if the look in his eye told her anything, it was the words Angelica had said.

You don’t have to worry about anything.

Maybe you’ll meet someone.

Perhaps she was right.

She was tired of everyone telling her how boring she was.

Y/N found herself dancing with the guy, not bothering to learn his name and more focused on her hips moving with his. The lips on her neck gave her a rush, like she was finally doing something fun and risky.

His hands were pulling at the hem of her dress when she was jolted forward. The guy had bumped into her hard, and when she turned around she found out it wasn’t the guys fault, but John’s.

“What the hell man?” The guy got up in his face. Y/N couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but it looked like it was something threatening. Laf, the short man and another one of John’s friends appeared, trying to pull him back and tell him to just leave it alone. John wasn’t having it, took to pushing the guy hard once more.

It was a giant commotion that got security involved, and Y/N was over it. She ran out of the club, tears brimming her eyes as she thought about what exactly just happened.

John always had to ruin the night. John always had a problem with her.

John also stopped her from calling a cab, grabbing her hand just as she reached the sidewalk and calling her name.

“What the fuck, John? What the hell was that for?” Y/N screamed, wide eyed and wondering why when she was finally having a good time, he had to fuck it up.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! I just- I couldn’t let him-”

“Couldn’t let him what? Touch me? Dance with me? Why? How does that have anything to do with you, John?” Nothing was connecting, there was never a time she could recall where John cared about her love life.

“He was an asshole anyways, alright? Was he really all that to you? Okay, if anything I was helping you!” If he could actually believe that, John was growing angry, too. He had no right to be, but his kept spitting out words that only made Y/N fill with rage.

“What did I ever do to you? Why? Why do you have such a problem with me?” While furious was an understatement, she seemed to be more confused as to why John got involved anyways. She was finally inching out of her shell and he just had to give her a reason to want to never leave her apartment again.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. I’m drunk, I’m-I didn’t mean to do that, I just-”

“Just what?” While John was stumbling with his words, she knew better. “Being drunk is not an excuse against your actions!”

"I was just trying to make a point! He was all over you, I thought you were uncomfortable!” He narrowed his eyes, and he’d grown more angry than regretful only a few seconds before.

“Well, I wasn’t! I am a grown woman, John, I’m allowed to have fun and meet guys! I was having a good time until you had to ruin it!”

“Jesus- I was just looking out for you! It’s not my fault you’re such a whore-”

The world seemed to stop as the two screaming voices died instantly at the sharp sound of the hit. John locked his jaw before he lifted his hand to rub his cheek. When he finally lifted his eyes, he saw Y/N pursing her lips in pure rage, a single tear streak ran down her cheek. She looked so small, fragile in a way that made him want to wrap her in his arms and promise that he would make sure that nothing ever hurt her.

He had already proven that he could never do such a thing.

“Fuck you, John.” Y/N whispered and turned, leaving him standing alone, full of regret.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Laurens taglist: @alievans007 @etjt1821 @dontblinkumightmiss @hj-creates

#john laurens x reader fic #john laurens x reader #john laurens imagine #john laurens x oc #my writings #hamilton imagine #hamilton fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #John watch your mouth #we respect women in this house #anyways #I’ll probably rewrite this but it’s fine

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shattersstar · 5 years ago

Text

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: you and jason are f*ck buddies and you decide to get wine drunk while in the bath (inspired by this post)

warnings: semi nsfw (aka no actual smut but y’all do be talking about it..like a lot), drinking, fluff, brief injury mention, friends to lovers vibes

a/n: this is just over 4k and idek how that happened. anyways check out my resources tag before or after reading this and feedback is always appreciated.

—

You appeared in the doorway, hipshot and a bottle of wine hung in one of your hands, fingers clutching the neck. The air was humid even from the entrance to the bathroom, the mirror fogged up and air thick. “Want me to turn on the fan?” You questioned from across the space, socked feet shifting through the threshold ever so slightly. You didn’t give a shit about the fan, not really, not when Jason was sitting in the bathtub a few feet away, naked and warm and he sent you a lazy smile. He shook his head no, chin jutting out in question, nodding towards the wine. “I was gonna get drunk on the couch and pass out here.”

“You aren’t going back to your place?”

“You want me to?” Another shuffle closer, bottle nudging your thigh as you moved.

“Do what you want.” He shrugged, water sloshing around him. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, as if debating your options. Of which there were three:

One, go back to your apartment, drink there if you wanted—you would—and deal with the arguing of your roommates who used to date.

Two, crash on his couch like you said and make him make you breakfast tomorrow. It was tempting.

And three, get in the tub with him and see where that takes you.

You knew where you wanted it to go, the same place most of your moments alone (or semi alone) lead too. It had become a steady occurrence for you two to casual fuck, even more so lately as you had been hiding out in Jason’s apartment. Your arguing roommates/exes had no problem dragging you into their fights, no matter what you were doing and often made you sleep on the couch so they could sleep in separate bedrooms. Jason had callously suggested telling them no, as if it was that easy. “It’s their place, and I’m sorta the reason they were sharing a bedroom in the first place.” You’d mutter, excuses falling from your lips until you’d crawl into his lap and apologize for staying over so often. He normally would just sigh and tell you it was fine. Part of him wanted to say more, to tell you he liked having you around, liked sharing his bed with you, liked everything about the crappy situation you found yourself in. But it was selfish and sentiment was always slow to rise through Jason’s chest, and slower to fall from his lips.

You hadn’t realized that a long moment had passed and the moisture in the air was starting to make your clothes stick to you. Your eyes fell back on him, his were closed, arms resting on either side of the tub. You traced his side profile with your gaze, skin shining with water, and the hair around the nape of his neck stuck to his skin as the bubble coated surface crept up his body with even the smallest shift of weight. You looked back to the rosé in your hand, shrugging small before crossing the space, kicking the door closed. It wasn’t for privacy—it wasn’t for anything you supposed. Jason lived alone, how he could afford it, you didn’t ask, and his neighbours were likely far accustomed to the private sounds you two shared that often leaked out from under doors and passed through walls. You blamed the hot body of water now a step away from you for the heat rising to your face.

You set the bottle down next to the tub, his eyes finally opening. The slam of the door didn’t disturb him, but the clink of glass against tile had him watching you. You didn’t say much as you straightened up, pulling off your socks, the shorts you found yourself in falling next. You yanked your t-shirt off, underwear the last thing to join the pile of clothes now dwelling on his bathroom floor. Jason’s eyes roamed over your body with a certain amount of casualness, it wasn’t hungry or flirtatious, it was just him taking you in like he had so many times before.

He still didn’t speak as you carefully dipped your foot into the hot water, finding the bottom of the tub and bringing your other leg over the side. He only bent his legs minimally, knees just poking out from under the water and caging each side of the tub. You didn’t object to the lack of space, you were invading his bath anyways. The water was almost painfully hot, shocking your system as you lowered yourself to sit across from him. The faucet prodded your back as you settled into the space, knees almost pulled to your chest. You let your hands sink next to you for a moment, before you were reaching over the side of the tub, soapy water rolling off your fingers as you plucked the bottle from where it sat. You had drank some of it earlier, sitting on the balcony and chatting idly with Jason. It was before the sun had set and you two had been sitting out there, before watching a documentary for one of your classes. You couldn’t remember how you ended up watching it with him, or why you were drinking beforehand, but all of that seemed far off now.

Far off as condensation rolled down the bottle, sweating in the humidity. You took a long, slow sip, the sweet, somewhat tart liquid slipping out the bottle and down your throat with ease. He was still watching you, head cocked slightly and gears in his brain turning. You could tell when he was reading you, thinking about aspects of you that you may never understand. His gaze was always a little intense, it sometimes made you squirm, and this was one of those moments. You pushed your shoulders back a little and held the bottle out between your two bodies. It was a little heavy, the rosé sagging into the bubbles. Jason breathed out a chuckle and took a sip of his own. He scowled ever so slightly, turning the label to face him and it was your turn to laugh.

“Stop buying cheap wine—it’s shit.” He huffed, although he did take another drink.

“I’ll stop buying cheap wine when I stop being broke.”

“Or I can give you money to buy something that doesn’t taste like depressed grapes.” You laughed again, although it was almost a scoff.

“First of all stop being a baby, this isn’t that bad and second of all I’m not gonna call you up every time I wanna buy liquor.” You explained, making grabby hands towards him. He handed you the wine with an eye roll.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Half the time you drink it's here and I’m tired of having to drink whatever crappy stuff you buy.”

“I’m sorry my socioeconomic status offends you.” You teased, letting out a yelp when one of his hands wrapped around you shin and tugged your leg. He didn’t pull you under, only shifting you onto your tailbone before dragging your leg along the tile, draping it over his thigh.

“I just meant if you’re gonna get drunk here, drink whatever I have here instead of buying this dollar store shit.” He sighed, watching you grin from around the rim.

“I mean, I’m not one to deny free booze.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

“Hey,” You yanked the outstretched bottle back, pouting at him. “Still don’t appreciate you saying this stuff is shit though.”

“I’ll make it up to you later,” You raised a brow, it worked another eye roll out of him. “You get mouthy when you drink.” He sounded as exasperated as before, although there was a tinge of amusement in his voice. You only snorted, passing the wine to him. You spent some time just passing the bottle back and forth, sometimes talking or sometimes letting the soft sound of the water drift around your bodies. At some point you hadn’t taken the bottle back from him, shifting till your back pressed into the corner of the tub, faucet now jabbing your arm. You tilted your head back, bare chest rising and falling in slower breaths. Jason set the rosé onto the bathroom floor at some point, one of his hands searching under the water for the leg rested against his. Water rolled over his hands as his fingers wrapped around your ankle, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your eyes blinked open, your head looked heavy as you lifted it from against the slick walls.

“Just seeing if you’re awake.” He hummed, noting the way your other leg stretched out over him. You shifted forward slightly, feet planting on otherside of his body as you sank under the surface, back sliding against the tiles and knees bending. Your dunked your body under until your head bumped the bottom, a few seconds passed before you were sitting back up, now in the centre of the tub.

“I am now.” You smiled as water rolled down your face.

“You’re something else.” He declared, strong hands coming to rest on your knees and giving them a gentle pinch. Your eyes dropped to his left hand, a scar trailed from in between his thumb and index finger, curling down towards his wrist. It was long and sinewy, like a vine that staggered across his hand. There were small bruises and other scars one wouldn’t notice at first glance, but you had become accustomed to them. Used to watching his hands as they moved with a catlike sneakiness, always searching, always ready to tease. There had been more than one occasion when your own hand darted out to grasp his wrist without even looking at him. You could be eating at the mall or sitting in his car at a red light and his curious hands were always trailing towards you.

Sometimes you’d swat them away, with an indurated glare. And he’d reply with that stupid smirk, eyes glinting as if to say, do you really want me to stop? Most of the time the answer was no, but you couldn’t always give so easily into him, not when it was so fun not too.

Now though, his hands weren’t wandering, they stayed rested on you, warm and heavy. You liked something about this Jason, the tipsy, relaxed version of him you rarely saw. It was either sex or friends just hanging out, and this felt like something blurring both those lines. It was intimate and naked, but it was friendly and sweet. It made your mind swirl, but that also could be the alcohol slowly burning through your system. Something about all of the thoughts running and tripping over themselves in your head made a giggle bubble pass your lips, earning another squeeze.

“What?” He wondered as your shoulders shook.

“Just thinking about you doing this with other people—couldn’t imagine it.” You laughed, head shaking as he furrowed his brows at you.

“This? As in you inviting yourself—“

“Hey, hey, don’t get mean I meant it nicely.” You leaned forward, pressing a finger to his lips. He finally moved his hands from where they grounded you, slapping it away from his face playfully. “It’s nice that we get to do this—not many people can just sit around in baths with friends.” You explained better.

“But,” He licked his lips, straightened up slightly, as if the words would pull from his throat easier, “Why would you think I’d do it with other people?”

Oh.

You shrugged, “I dunno, guess I didn’t think I was the only person you were…” Suddenly any word to describe what you and Jason were left a bad taste in your mouth, fucking felt too vulgar, sex sounded too direct and making love was definitely not an option. “Doing whatever we're doing with?”

“Fantastic english.”

“Shut up, y’get what I mean.”

He only hummed in response, a look too thoughtful for the daze expression you wore fell over his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why’re you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You splashed a handful of water at him, letting out a head thrown back, almost shrieking sort of laugh at the unamused expression on his face. “Seriously?”

“C’mon tell me.” You whined, laughter dying down.

“Fine. C’mere,” His voice was all low and caramel—warm and sweet—as he beckoned you to him. You didn’t even hesitate, moving closer and letting him pull you into his lap, knees pressing to the floor of the bath and upper half rising out of the water before he sat you on his thighs. Goosebumps rippled your skin as the air—cooler now—rolled over your skin before you sank back into the water. Your bare chest brushed his, the water flowing between your two bodies and rising as he pulled you close. One of his hands stayed on the side of your thigh, the other trailed up your arm, setting on the side of your neck, thumb coming up to rest on your jaw. Your arms were wrapped around the broad expanse of his shoulders, one of your hands rested on the nape of his neck, fingers toying with the wet hairs there.

“I was thinking that why would I wanna fuck anyone else when I have you?” He admitted, a confessional spoken so casually, that you knew the wine had affected him at least somewhat. Sometimes it was hard to tell, but from the soft touches to tender confessions, it was easy to pinpoint where your rugged and reserved Jason tapered off into a muted version of himself. Like all the parts he kept hidden, too kind for the world he lived in, for the person he had become suddenly seeped out and it made you feel boneless and a little lovesick around him.

“That’s probably because your fucking me every waking minute.” You teased despite the dopey smile you wore, forehead resting on his.

“I’m not right now.”

A beat.

“You could.” Your voice was distant, like you were indifferent about the suggestion, because you were.

“Is that why you didn’t wanna leave?” He was so full of questions you realized as well. It seemed most days he knew what you were going to do before you did it, that he could read you like a book—not that you made it particularly hard anyways. And yet, a little drunk and sleepy underneath you, Jason didn’t seem interested in higher thinking, letting the questions and whatever else fall from his mouth with little care where they landed.

You pulled back a little, watching him, “I mean that’s always a benefit about being here,” You explained, feeling the laugh he let out more than hearing it, “But I dunno, you said it earlier I’m here a lot and there’s like no stressors here.”

“Ah—forgot about your roommates.”

“Yeah, plus I was gonna ask you to make my breakfast if I did get drunk and pass out on the couch like planned.” Your admission was lighthearted, but you felt his hand on your thigh tighten, just slightly.

“I wouldn’t have let you sleep on the couch.” He muttered, the hand on your neck sliding to cradle your jaw, your stomach twisting in the way only he could manage, “Not when you look so good in my bed.”

A chill ran up your spine, leave it to Jason to leave you breathless no matter what state he was in. You let your gaze fall to the space between your bodies, that was until he tilted your chin up and brought your lips to his. He was grinning into the kiss, the hand on your thigh now on the curve of your spine, pressing over so gentle into the wet skin. You let your eyes fall closed as he continued to kiss you, arms wrapping further around him as he brought you closer, the slightest pressure on your back and you shifted against him with ease. Soon your chests were flush, rising and falling in tandem. Jason mumbled something you did quite catch, his arms hugging around your frame, keeping you against him as he sank deeper into the bath, his head coming to rest on the edge and stretching out as best he could in the small space. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, water just at your chin now. His hands splayed on your back, fingers traced idly shapes as you let the tiredness that he pulled you from tug at the corners of your mind again.

You weren’t sure if you had fallen asleep, or just focused on the sound of his breathing and the soft patterns he drew against your skin, but you do remember coming back to reality as he carefully sat back up after some time. He made sure to pull you up with him, maneuvering you with ease. Soon your back was to his chest, his chin resting atop your head and his encircled you once again, hands clasping over yours against your middle. You adjusted yourself against his chest, relaxing your weight into him and detangling the mess of hands that rested in front of you so you could hold one of Jason’s. He obliged easily, his left hand intertwining with yours, his right forearm residing just under your chest and keeping you close, and likely upright. You didn’t mind the contact, the pressure of him against you in the slightest. It was different from what you were used to, and yet you welcomed it all the rest.

Once again you let the edges of your consciousness taper off, fading into something distant and calming. You definitely fell asleep that time, as you rouse when a hand lightly lightly squeezed your chest, his palm sliding from the soft skin to your neck, tilting your head out of the way as his lips moved from the nape of your neck to your shoulder. His tongue slid over the damp skin, biting into it when you nearly dozed back off. “We fell asleep.” He breathed against the side of your neck, kisses peppered there were followed by another softer, lazier bite.

“We?” You groaned, tone groggy.

“Is there anyone else here?” You only shook your head, not aware enough to pick up on the sarcasm. The lips moving against your skin didn’t help either, not when he moved your head to rest on his collarbone, lips finding yours. He wasted no time licking his way past your lips, tongue dragging across yours, exploring the inside of your mouth. He pulled away to twist you in his lap, kissing you hard once again. If you weren’t delirious from sleep, it definitely was because of him now. His tongue swiped the roof of your mouth and ran along the blunt edge of your teeth. The hand he used to adjust you so pilantly to his liking now rested against the column of your throat, flexing when you sighed against his lips. It was breathy and needy and you were too tired and still a little drunk to care.

“Water’s cold.” You found yourself saying as his lips pressed into the corner of your mouth.

“It is.” He agreed, biting into your bottom lip you barely noticed was pouting. “You’re such a tired little thing.”

“Kinda drunk too.”

“I can tell.”

“Ouch.” You were beaming despite your words, blinking up at him, nose judging his jaw. He was warmer than the water which made your bones feel heavy, all the airy suds now vanished. “What time is it?”

“How would I know?” You picked up on his tone then, pulling your brows together until he exhaled a chuckle against the juncture where your neck met your shoulder. He buried his face in there, seeking out warmth as well. “Can you get up?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, c’mon I wanna go to bed.” Despite his words the hand that crossed your body, now fallen to you solar plexus stayed unmoved and he kept breathing you in. You had no objections to staying here, despite the goosebumps riddling your skin and the shiver building in the base of your spine. After a loud inhale, your body rising with the expansion of his broad chest he pulled away from you, ushering you forward slightly. You scrubbed a hand over your face, trying to focus on the task at hand: getting up. You went to gather your legs underneath you, one hand resting on the outer edge of the tub when Jason rose from behind you. Water dripped off his body and fell onto you as you dumbly sat in the bath water. “Why’d you say you could get up?” He asked, wrapping a towel around his waist before moving back to you.

You frowned up at him, “I can.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“It’s been like four seconds!” You exclaimed, only earning a click of his tongue before he bent over to haul you out of the water. You stepped over the side with ease, his strong hands gripping the sides of your arm, one coming to wrap around the curve of your elbow as you stood up straight. Once you were steady enough he passed you a towel, which you quickly pulled around your body. You let a shudder wrack your body, and without much of a word he was pulling you against him. You greedily obliged, hands wrapped around his frame, fingers spread on his naked back. “What did you say earlier?”

“I said a lot of things, whic—“

“Something about me drinking.”

“That you get mouthy?”

“Yeah, yeah that. Y’know what you get?” You looked up at him, chin resting on his chest.

“What?”

“Touchy.”

“Touchy?” He echoed.

“Yeah, I mean you kinda always are, but s’not like this.” He didn’t respond, eyes drifting from your face. Maybe you got intuitive when you were drunk too. “I like this though.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm, s’nice.” Your words blended together as you let Jason lean over and press a kiss to your forehead. You let yours eyes fall closed, resting most of your weight against him.

“Hey you better not fall asleep, I’m not carrying you to bed.”

“Ever the romantic.” You pulled yourself from him, about to turn around and gather your clothes from the floor, but Jason’s hand wrapped around yours and was tugging you out of the bathroom. “Wait—m’clothes—“

“Leave them.” He called over his shoulder, leading you towards his bedroom and softly pushing you to sit on his bed. He left you for a moment, heading to drain the bath you supposed. After a moment he passed by the bedroom door, wine bottle in hand. You could hear the sound of it hitting the recycling bin before he reappeared. Jason looked a little unimpressed when he found you still sitting there. “You can get in bed y’know.”

“And sleep in a wet towel?”

“Or in nothing.” He shrugged, your ears suddenly hot as he stood between your legs, both hands cupping your face. “Don’t wanna have to work to fuck you in the morning.”

You opened and closed your mouth twice before nodding at his words, “Should’ve led with that.”

“Duly noted, now go to sleep.” He kissed you again, lips pressing firm to yours. You and Jason weren’t really the kissing type, sure you’d make out with him on occasion, but it felt too intimate for what you two had become. It was more of an unspoken rule, and it sometimes happened, but never outside the confines of sex. And he was promising to fuck you come morning, but now wasn’t morning and he was kissing you—another side effect from the rosé, you distantly assumed—and it felt right.

He pulled away when your head started to lull back, as if it was too heavy for your neck to support. You let him untuck the towel and slip it from your body. Parts of you were still damp from the bath, but you didn’t care as you slipped under his duvet, hauling it to your ears and sinking into one of his pillows. You were sure you were asleep before you finished rolling onto your side, the heavy fog of exhaustion, liquor and a calm night lulling you to sleep. You didn’t even rouse as Jason joined you, thumb brushing away a stray droplet that drifted from your hairline down your cheek bone. He kissed your forehead once again, letting the rarity of an easy sleep wash over him as well.

#teehee wine drunk jason is here #i hope yall like it 🙈🙈#also i was listening to father john misty when i wrote this...can u tell #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #dc x reader #dc imagine #writing

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ridiculously-over-obsessed · 4 years ago

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CREATOR TAG MEME

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Tagged by one of my favourite humans @green-eyed-weirdo, I’m very bad at this self-love thing haha so I had to kinda justify them as I went along 😅

(1) Forever And Always, My Love - M, Bechloe, Their physical wounds might have healed, but there's more to all of this than meets the eye. Chloe, Beca, and the Bellas are all battling with the effects of the Cayman Islands. Can Chloe save Beca from herself? Will Beca ever be able to find out what is the root of Chloe's pain? Will their secrets destroy their relationship before it's even begun?

So this one is the sequel to a fic I wrote about three years ago, and it was the first fic I wrote after I came back to the PP fandom/writing and it’s kind of my baby? It’s still a WIP but it’s so close to being done and I think I’ve got better as I’ve written it. Idek, it’s the longest fic I’ve written but I’m kinda proud of it

(2) The Favour - M, Staubrey, Stacie needs knee surgery but there's no-one left at the Bella House to help her afterwards. She reaches out to the one person that she knows will be around: Aubrey Posen.

This is near and dear to my heart because it’s the first fic that @aubreyposenesquire wrote together, it’s the first fic I wrote that wasn’t Bechloe, and it’s the first time I’ve published anything smutty and not been deeply ashamed of it 😂 I love RJ to death because she supports my writing like no-one else ever has and I wouldn’t still be writing without her, so yeah this fic is one of my faves because it’s the product of both our brains and the support she gives me.

(3) Finally... - M, Bechloe, They kissed, they finally kissed... so what now?

Alright this is a smut fic and I don’t tend to write those outside of my fic writing with RJ (even the smutty scene in FAAML was cowritten by her) and... I’m weirdly proud of it?? Like I feel like I’ve grown into this fic and I’ve not been able to write anything like this before. Also it’s kinda soft as well as hot and I like that 😂 yeah anyway, I’m kinda proud of this smutty little fic

(4) May The Best Woman Win - T, Bechloe and Staubrey, Whilst hunting for vampires, the VH Inc stumble across an old enemy of Beca's. Could this be the end of Vampire Hunters Incorporated before it's even really begun?

I lowkey love all of the Vampire Hunters Incorporated series let’s be real, but I especially love this lil two parter. I think it’s the best written one of the series, and it’s the one that sparked the original work I’ve started doing so it’ll always have a special place in my heart because of that. On a side note I lowkey love Gale in this fic...

(5) Operation: Wingman - G, Bechloe, Seven years of pining and unsaid feelings has gotten them this far, but when they run into two people having similar problems, both Beca and Chloe seize the opportunity to finally get what they want the most: each other.

This was my Bechloe kiss fic and it’s dumb but I kinda love it. I wrote it when my brain was soup but I’ve reread it since and it’s not bad? It’s a sweet little fic that’s a really different tone from the WIP I’m writing so it was nice brain break too 😂

I’m gonna tag @aubreyposenesquire, @chloebeale, @cycwrites and other people that want to do it (also if you’ve already done this I’m sorry for tagging you 😅)

#pitch perfect fanfiction #bechloe #staubrey #beca mitchell #chloe beale #aubrey posen #stacie conrad #faaml #Vampire Hunters Inc.#collaborate and listen #smut #angst #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #my fic

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

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Grace Heals 01: How Did You Betray Simon?

This is dedicated to the growth and wellness of Grace Monroe. I hadn’t seen much fic content for where Grace may go next that wasn’t centered around “fixing” the series. I don’t feel like it needs fixing, but just wanted to venture where I’d love to see Grace go and be as she works on things after we last see her in Book 3. So, everything that was canon precedes this story that I’ve began for my beloved baby girl @pearlseleganciess and my sister @andromidagalaxie (I cannot tag you sis, I don’t understand why, so I’m sorry, but this goes out to you). @i-am-a-passenger Idek if you wanna read it, but it seems like something we’d be on about in the messages, so I’m tagging you at least to this one to see how you feel.

“How did you betray Simon?”

Grace had been standing there for a while, after having had every denizen plaything brought to her so that she could try to see if they could be mended. She was taking a break whenever Lucy’s voice rescued her from her thoughts, but it took her a moment to try to process the question. “How did I, or why did I? We have to get in the habit of clarifying our questions before giving our answers, so that we know what we’re saying. That way… There are no misunderstandings and if anybody is hurt, it’s not because we lied to them.”

“Is that how it happened? You were unclear when you lied to him?” Lucy sounded a little disappointed in that thought.

“No. I was clear. I deliberately lied. I thought that I was doing what was best, and I stand by it. But… I get that… maybe if Simon and I could’ve been clearer sooner, understood each other more instead of just leaning into what we thought we needed… Maybe I wouldn’t have felt like I needed to lie to protect Hazel. Maybe we would’ve been better for each other. Maybe we wouldn’t have misguided so many kids that I genuinely wanted to help in the same way that I thought I was helping Simon…”

Lucy picked up Simon’s book and began scribbling in it. “If we’re going to change our language, maybe I should edit out every usage of the N word.” Grace appreciated that she took the liberty of doing so on her own, instead of looking to her for permission. “Replace the Null of Dissention with… The Denizen of… Repentance?… No. That’s too long. I’ll just put H.. was it Hazel?” Grace’s eyes welled with tears and Lucy’s good eye noted it. She nodded once, “It was Hazel,” she said, going through to edit.

She stared at the book for a while longer, then finally said, “I meant how. How did you betray Simon? I didn’t know him as long as you did, and I didn’t like him as much as you did, but it was still really hard for me not to listen to him. Even when what he said sounded wrong. What he said about you didn’t sound like you. But, I believed him. I trusted him. How did you figure out how to not trust him? How did you decide not to follow the king?” Lucy looked shaky, regretful. She was asking for instructions, not for Grace to explain herself.

Still, Grace had to be certain, just like she promised, to be clear about the conversations she had with others and to answer them to the best of her knowledge. She couldn’t be a know-it-all anymore. She had to just be honest and straightforward, even when she didn’t know, and do her best to understand what was being asked of her, instead of presuming. “Lucy… Are you asking me this as a way to help you figure out how to learn to stick up for yourself?”

“I want to be brave enough to overthrow an unfit leader. Simon was an unfit leader. A lot of us had to have known. I couldn’t be the only one who didn’t like... the changes…”

Grace sighed and nodded her head. She sat down, legs sprawled and rested her elbows on her knees as she thought, “Well… I think that first and foremost, the important thing to understand is that even if you were the only one who didn’t like it, there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with not thinking like everyone else. There’s nothing wrong with thinking for yourself and having a different opinion than other people. The problem isn’t in our opinions, but our actions. Whenever I… realized that I cared about Hazel, I knew that Simon had a different opinion, but… my actions. I wanted so much to keep what I had with Simon, to keep our peace, to keep him happy, I hurt a little girl that thought I cared about her. I couldn’t take that back.”

“We were going to wheel you… Can… can we not take that back?” Lucy asked, worried.

“The good news is that I made it. I know how it feels to let down a friend and to hurt them, and I never want to make you feel that way. As long as we’re both still here, there is time to change, and time to talk it out. So, to answer your question, we can’t undo what we’ve already done, but we can use what we learn from what we did wrong to do better in the future.”

“But… Do you hate us? Doesn’t some part of you hate us, like Simon hated you when you betrayed him?” Lucy was now losing her tough exterior and clenching the book tightly.

Grace reached out and touched her shoulder. She loosened up and Grace took the book from her and tossed it aside to hold both of her hands.

“I could never hate you, Lucy. You and me, we’ve gone through something together that has forever changed us. I’m really glad that you have a better chance now.”

Lucy shook her head and started crying, “But, what if we had wheeled you? What if we had wheeled you like all of those nulls that we’ve wheeled, and now have to think about how wrong it was for us to do that to them? What if we had to think about that too? About having done it to you?”

“You didn’t! You didn’t!” Grace said, trying to calm her.

She reached for a hug, but Lucy resisted and shook her head. “I called you a void. I knew that it didn’t seem right, but I still listened to Simon. You should be throwing me to the wheels.”

Grace clasped her hands together and sputtered out a breath. “Nobody should be thrown to the wheels. Believe it or not, I wouldn’t have even wanted that for Simon. I loved him more than I can put into words. From the first time I saw that I needed to protect him, that’s… just what I did. It was nice, to be needed. It was nice to have someone see me and see the best,” Tears were in Grace’s eyes now, “And it was so hard to have him see me and see the worst. For a moment, I even thought that I deserved it. I thought, what I’m guessing you’re thinking, that because I did something to hurt him, maybe I had to do more to help him.”

“You told him a stupid lie and he tried to kill you. I feel like that’s an overreaction,” Lucy complained. “He failed us.”

“No, Lucy. We failed you. He’s just the one who didn’t live to fix it.”

“Shouldn’t all fall on you,” Lucy said and kicked Simon’s book off the table.

“And, it doesn’t. Remember, we’re doing this together. I can try to help you, but I can’t fix everything. But, you have me here and I’m telling you the truth when I say that you deserve to get to change. Everybody does.”

“Then, why can’t everybody change? Why couldn’t Simon?”

Grace shook her head and blinked away more stinging tears, “I can’t answer for Simon, but maybe a part of life continuing is not having an answer for everything. Maybe… we’ll all do our best to find answers that are good and sound, because we saw how… badly it could end… if we’re not willing to see any other ways but our own. I know I'm willing to give it my best shot." Lucy nodded her head and finally was ready for a hug. Grace squeezed her tightly, thinking of Hazel, but not wanting to equate Lucy and Hazel. They were both two very different little girls. She had regrets about Hazel, but she had also come to terms with that mentally. Maybe she would see her again, but probably not and she couldn’t equate every kid she knew with Hazel; just like she shouldn’t have equated every kid she met with a sad short boy in socks and sandals.

But, she was never going to stop loving either of them. That was just… How she was. People didn’t get close to her and the ones who had… Well, she was going to have to learn how to let other people get close too. It would take some of these kids a long time to trust this new evolution of hers, but most of them wanted to.

Lucy had wanted to. “Umm… Grace?”

“Yes, Lucy?”

“Can… you stop hugging me. It’s getting a little uncomfortable.” Grace quickly let go and placed her hand on the back of her neck, laughing. Lucy just smiled at her, almost like you would some poor silly fool. “Thank you for clearing it up,” Lucy said and picked up Simon’s book off of the floor. “On second thought, I don’t think we need this. I’m gonna wheel it,” Lucy said. Grace wanted to stop her, for sentimental reasons, but… None of the other kids touched Simon’s things. There would be something that she could hold on to, whenever she had the nerve to go in there. That book… it was probably filled with things that she never wanted to think about, with all the parts of Simon that she didn’t quite notice until she started changing.

“Lucy!” She called after her, realizing that she had never answered her question. The girl stopped, panicked for a moment, thinking that maybe she had done something wrong. “I changed. That’s how I betrayed him. I became a person that valued something more than I valued what we had, what we built.”

“But… you built something that was bad,” Lucy said. Grace nodded. “So, you changed into someone good.”

“I changed into someone who was thinking from a good place. I don’t know if I feel comfortable saying that I became good.”

“I feel comfortable saying it, because I have a different opinion than you, and that’s okay.” Grace smiled at Lucy as she trotted along to the door to get rid of the book. At least somebody believed that she was good.

#Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #Grace Heals #Grace Monroe Fanfic #Grace Monroe #Infinity Train Grace

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koishua · 3 years ago

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𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙈𝙀 𝙏𝘼𝙂 !

tagged by: @luvvseong @yangyangify @spookybias @iuwon @floraljae (thank you, my loves <3)

tagging: @zhongwrld @moonbeamsung @rutosruru @lyjikyu @armysantiny @kopikokun @mochiable @envirae @channoticedmeuwu @radiorenjun @lebrookestore @whiteprincessofnohr + anyone who would like to do it!!

notes from vie: oml what the hell was this. honestly, this was so long, but i think it allowed me to reflect upon myself for a moment lmao.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮

october twenty eighth! on winwin day, nonetheless!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧

i adore every single one smh. if it were palettes we were speaking about, then it would probably be greyish blue tones and beige to yellow ones!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙣𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧

my lucky number does not work, because my misfortune overpowers it way too much. i like the number eight, though!

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙨

i used to have pet baby cobras, fishes, yellow and blue budgies, and aquatic turtles!

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪

i am aspiring to reach 170 cm, but i am currently 159-160 cm! that would be 5'2"?? i think.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚

a pair of combat boots, white canvas shoes, and one sneakers for sports class... not many lmao i am not a shoe gal.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜

changes everyday. as i am typing, however, it would be lose it by oh wonder, rush hour by gaho and run by one republic!

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙚

i have three: rise of the guardians, room (2015), and... any studio ghibli movie tbh. whoops.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

i say that i do not have a type all of the time, but all of the people i have been attracted to and had a crush on were the wild, fun, and cute guys in my class. they also tend to be very kind and understanding as well. i am a sucker for people who smile often.

they would have to be accepting of all of my flaws and love me regardless, just like the way i would do the same for them if i love them as well. i am also extremely touch deprived haha, so i would honestly be over the moon if they don't mind hugs and physical affection.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣

only after i have a stable income and have things sorted out, because i don't want to struggle raising them because of financial and mental issues. no kid deserves parents that can't take care of them ig.

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙬

the law from where i come from are terrible and something pretty bad has happened, but i'd rather that's kept in private haha. i swear i didn't commit any crimes lmao police are just incredible blind and unfair there.

𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

shower. i am way too impatient for baths. also, i feel weird sitting in a tub filled water while naked lmfao it's so weird for me.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

grey.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘

k-r&b, indie, pop-rock hybrid ig, lo-fi.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝

only one below my head.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥 𝙞𝙣

it varies. i sleep like a rock even though i can’t sleep for long, so i wake up in the exact position i initially fall asleep in. either on my back or my right side, since my left side isn’t too good lmao.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤𝙣❜𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪❜𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜

buzzing mosquitos and damp, hot air (which is very rare, so i guess we are okay). i also hate being cold, so i sleep with two blankets even during summer haha. my limbs are ice-cold all the time smh

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩

oats mixed with chocolate chunks.

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙮

i never went to a club or took lessons, but we had a backyard where my dad allowed me to shoot at stuff with a bow and the few arrows he made. i was pretty good at aiming, but my eyesight has deteriorated, so i left it at that lmao

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙩

watermelons and mangoes... also rambutan and mangis, but we don’t have them in germany ;-; i missed them.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙

fuck. and i am sorry to say that i use it here quite a lot.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨

tons.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧

some have called me a psychopath before, but they just don’t understand that i was raised by very strict parents and learned how to lie lmao. i am pretty ashamed to say yes.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚

i have tested twice. once when i was fourteen, which showed that i was an infj-t, but then i took it again last year and it showed that i was an infp-t. i heard that 16Personalities was trash, though, so take it with a grain of salt.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡

my best friend. she is a wild character, ngl, but she and i communicate extremely well. she is outgoing, courageous, hilarious, and has no qualms with being the odd one. she isn’t overly obnoxious, but she has a nice kind of self-confidence going on.

𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙚

i love yang jeongIN. definitely an innie, because i don’t even remember what the front of my house looks like haha. i don’t go out unless someone literally grabs my arms and physically drags me out and i am not even joking with this one.

𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙

i was originally right-handed, but then i got paranoid of breaking my right arm and having to study with my left arm all of a sudden and get bad grades, so i learned how to do stuff and write with my left hand as a kid.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙

don’t have one. call me when we’re talking about dessert.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙

don’t have one.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙮

my entire aesthetic is chaotic academia irl, so you tell me.

𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙖𝙨𝙚

oml, how tf, bahaha, bestie, no because-, hehe, lmao, i’m sobbing, i guess, toodles, etc etc.

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙮

i can techincally be ready in five, but procrastination is the sole thing i excel at, so yeah, definitely half an hour.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛

cnversations happen in my head, my the office-esque reactions happen out loud. i talk a lot and imitate phrases i hear from someone to myself and reenact scenes from my daydreams bahaha

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛

i don’t shut up. someone save the people that live with me.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧

definitely not the most technically sound vocalist, but i can hold a tune or two. i was a soloist in my choir for a few years and was the vocalist for a band, but we disbanded smh i am still very sad about that :/ i loved them so much.

𝙗𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧

seeing my loved ones die before me.

𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙥

i don’t feel comfortable talking bad about people :/ just ignore and move on.

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧

i have hair that reaches my knees, but dear god do i want to chop it all off in one motion and get a yeeun-style bob cut.

𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡 𝙨𝙪𝙗𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩

sports and art. to hell with everything else. i’m not bad at them at all, but oh gosh i want to burn them all.

𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙩

... idk. i hate speaking to strangers and feel so awkward during one on one conversations with friends. i don’t go out a lot and social events tire me out, but i also crave noise happening around me. so,,, ambivert? i do tend to be the life of the party often during the few times i go out, but then i just lug myself back home and crash for the week lmao

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙤𝙪𝙨

anything related to school. i have regular panic attacks /gen. also, i have thalassaphobia and megalophobia, so things larger than life and the vast, empty ocean terrifies me and movies like that just make me nauseous.

𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝

my first real crush this one guy in my band. he was the other vocalist and was so pretty and fun. he always used to tease me smh. at least, that was something. but then we had to disband last year, because the older guys were moving away to study and us high schoolers were also moving to different cities ;-;

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙧𝙪𝙣

i was in my middle school track team and used to compete a lot since i was pretty agile, but then i started to hate running, stopped, and now i am just a little above average bahaha.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧

black. i want to dye it with cotton candy colored highlights, tho!

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙮

unnecessary comments, rude and obnoxious, self-entitled kids and people in general, people who tell you how to do your own job, hate comments, the basic dni criterias as well

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚

kind of?

𝙙𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙙

i would want a girl.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝𝙨

i have cold hands if you want to cool down. i can adapt to any kind of environment instantly, since i have moved twelve different times to fifferent schools and countries. bless my parents. i have gained the ability to conquer shifts in social environments at the cost of my mental health :’) i also consider myself to be nice and can get things down quickly, so i am a fast learner.

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨

kanemoto yoshinori, yoshi, eye smiles, and brownies. i am also very impatient, a perfectionist, a procrastinator, and have absolutely zero self-control over aggression against my own body. i have trouble reacting to other people's emotional outbursts, be it crying or anger and don't know what to do and how to comfort them. i also have trouble opening up and am never authentic around people, so i don't have... friends, if that makes sense? i don't feel comfortable being myself and feel like i have to be the person that they want me to be? idek.

i get bored extremely easily and nothing interests me that much ig

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩❜𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙙𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

blue.

𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙢

white and hints of blue.

#“(r)” ⸻ tag game time.

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langdons-little-witch-bitch · 5 years ago

Text

In the dark of the night

(gif by @violadvis)

Summary: Gathered around the bonfire the creepy story being told scares you, but Xavier has his own way of comforting you.

A/N: Y’all can thank (or blame 😅) @itsmelunamoon for this. Our conversation about the gif above inspired this little OS.

Since the season didn’t aired yet this is nothing valid. The characterization is solely based on my imagination of how he’s gonna be like after seeing the 2 trailer. Idek if that’s really gonna be his name, but we’ll see. I can tell I already love this precious lil fuckboy 😄

Also I finished this around 5am so it’s probably not the best 🙈

(English is not my first language)

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering, public sex, unprotected sex

Word count: 1499

————————————————————

The crackling of the fire held a comforting effect compared to the disquieting noises that echoed through the nightly wood. The screech of a distinct owl, rustling in the brush, branches snapping. A shiver run down your spine. From the upcoming cold or fear?

It was your free evening, but instead of just relaxing in your cabin your roommate convinced you to come to the bonfire with the other new counselors. You all gathered closely around the warm fire, grilled marshmallows, drank some booze that one of the guys had smuggled in the camp and now one of your co-counselors was telling a spooky story about some psychopath that was rumored to roam this forest and slay people with a huge knife. Just one of those classical bonfire stories to frighten people, nothing to worry about, you told yourself. But you couldn’t help feel a bit at unease.

Suddenly you felt someone sit down next to you on the big branch. Confused you looked to your left where you expected to discover your friend, but she was gone. You were so focused on the story and your own thoughts that you didn’t noticed her leaving. Instead of her small face, surrounded by hazelnut hair, you looked at the sharp features of Xavier. The blonde had propped himself on the wood casually, legs spread widely as he leant into you closely with a smug smile on his lips, his little earing glistening in the light of fire.

“Are you scared?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his deep voice.

“N-No. Why would I?” You didn’t wanted to admit that the whole situation, the scary story plus the surroundings do creeped you out a bit. You thought he would laugh at you.

“Mhh are you sure? You are shivering.” He leant in closer, his arm resting behind your back, not fully touching just brushing against it.

“It’s just getting cold, that’s all.” you tried to brush it off.

“How about I warm you up a bit then?”, his voice low and seductive, his hand suddenly on your thigh caressing your skin.

You swallowed hard, the whole situation overwhelming and confusing to you. He was so close, his arm now grapping around your waist, his lips close to your ear, his warm breath making goosebumps erupt on your neck running down your entire body. His nose brushed your cheek lightly, his smell intoxicating. You couldn’t think straight anymore. What the hell is happening here? you asked yourself.

Never would you’ve imagined of finding yourself in such a situation. You and Xavier weren’t close or anything, neither did you thought he would be interested in you. You shared a bit small talk about the work at Camp Redwood here and there, that’s it. He was loud and confident, always center of attention, a bit cocky. The complete opposite of you. Not to forget he was kind of a fuck boy, always flirting with practically everyone. Especially the camper were constantly gushing about him, throwing themselves at him. Not that you could blame them.

Xavier was incredibly handsome. Soft, fluffy, blonde hair with those cute little strands falling on his forehead. Dazzling blue eyes, that shimmered like the lake in the sunlight. Plump, pink lips that almost always held an arrogant smirk. A sharp jawline that could cut through glass. And you couldn’t help but stare at his thick thighs and firm bottom whenever he wore those super short, tight shorts.

“What do you say, how about we get away from here?” his smooth voice abruptly pulled you out of your train of thoughts.

You looked at him slightly shocked to find him wiggle his eyebrows suggestively at you. The silly gesture made you laugh softly. Sneaking away in the middle of the night to god knows where probably wasn’t the best idea, but the liquor from earlier and Xavier’s proximity made your head spin so you couldn’t think straight. You just nodded your head, and he immediately snatched your hand, leading you away from the bonfire, further into the woods.

“Where are you going?” you asked concerned.

“Somewhere more quiet of course.”

“Why can’t we go back to our cabins, they’re all empty now.”

“Nah there are way too many people at camp. I’d rather be alone with you.”

He suddenly turned around and backed you up against a tree, his arms trapping you, making you gasp. You could barely make out his face in the dark, the only source of light was the moon shining through the branches of the trees.

“I just don’t think it’s really safe out here.”

He started laughing. “Why? Because of that silly story? Don’t worry sweetheart. I protect you from the big, bad serial killer.”, he grinned, leaning his head down to catch your lips with his.

The kiss was a bit sloppy but nice. His lips were soft and warm, and you could taste the faint peppermint flavor of the gum he was often chewing. His hands found your waist and yours wrapped around his neck while the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Tongues swirling together, teeth nibbling at bottom lips. Xavier released a low growl as he pulled you in even closer, rubbing his growing bulge against your covered core. You moaned softly, your hands gripping at the back of his hair.

“Fuck I want you so bad,” he whispered huskily in your ear, taking your top and bra off hastily. His eager hands roamed your upper body, groping the tender flesh of your breasts while he kissed and sucked at your neck. Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips at the feeling of his lips and hands caressing your body. One of them made it’s way down your stomach past the waistband of your shorts and panties. A loud moan escaped you as he started rubbing your clit.

“So wet for me babe,” he stated with satisfaction, your arousal coating his hand. He slowly inserted one finger, thrusting at a slow pace at first until he felt you grind down on him, the feeling of his long, slender finger caressing your inner walls so good. But you needed more. As if he could read your mind Xavier added a second finger. His thrusts at a steady pace now, his thump circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, while his lips had started sucking at the swell of your breast, before paying attention to your hardened nipples. The sounds of your pleasure resounding through the forest. Thankfully you were far enough away from everyone else, so no one could hear you. As Xavier hit the right spot deep inside of you, you let out a small scream.

“Fuck, right there. Feels so good.”

Just when your body started trembling from the pleasure and you were about to reach your high, he retracted his hand.

“What the fuck?” you panted.

“Sorry babe, I can’t wait any longer.” He worked fastly at his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down to free his neglected and rock hard length. A relieved moan escaped his lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it. You bit your bottom lip at the marvelous sight, your heat throbbing with want and anticipation.

Xavier pulled your bottoms down and grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up against the tree. The hard bark grazing your skin, making you hiss slightly in pain. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips. He rubbed his length against your core, moisturizing it with your juices before pushing inside. He groaned deeply at the feeling of being buried in your warmth. He started rocking his hips into yours at a rapid, eager pace. Your hands clawed at his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, trying to keep up with his rhythm.

Loud moans and pants echoed through the night.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good. So wet and warm.”

He hoisted you up higher against the tree, creating a new angle. The next deep thrust hitting your sweet spot. You moaned out his name.

“Do that again,” he growled, pumping his length in and out of you in a hard, fast pace now, trying to reach the same spot over and over again.

“Xavier,” you squealed loudly, “I’m so close.”

“Me, too baby girl.”

He started rubbing at your clit again and soon you felt warmth flood your entire body, your stomach tightened, your breathing turned into panting before that feeling of complete euphoria took over your entire body and you reached your high.

Xavier, lost in his own pleasure, watched you fall apart. The sight of you, eyes closed in pure bliss, head thrown back, moaning and whimpering incoherent expressions of pleasure accompanied by his name, triggered his own release. With a deep grunt he came hard, his head burrowed in your neck.

“Ah fuck, that was good.”

Just as you were about to reply your shrill scream filling the air as you spotted a dark figure right behind Xavier, a huge knife raised in his hand.

Tagging: @officialcodysfallenangels @hplotrfan @divinelittlelight @kalam22 @luthienshavenlove @stupidocupido @sojournmichael (hope it’s ok I tagged y’all)

*Usually I wouldn’t tag my work in tags where it doesn’t belong, but since the situation is a bit different here I’m gonna make an exception.

#xavier plympton imagine #xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton smut #xavier plympton fic #fanfic #smut #my writings #ahs 1984 #michael langdon smut #jim mason smut #duncan shepard smut

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moodyvalentinestories · 5 years ago

Text

Direction – One | Hunt x HWU MC (Danielle)

Summary: Hunt finds out what the 'stick' is, and it's not pretty. Danielle is worried.

Words: 1500+

Notes: Hunt worrying he can't direct anymore is honestly me right now with writing. Like, I haven't done it in a few months, and I'm like??? Is this how you do a write? Is this right? Idek anymore!

❥ Masterlist

Thomas didn’t hear from Danielle or anyone else associated with her film for three days and, consequently, almost forgot about the interaction altogether. But there was that one small remark she’d made, about the Silver Circle, that stuck with him. It had been two years, and it wasn’t like he never wanted to go back to directing. He did, but there was that fear of failure – what if he didn’t have what it takes anymore? What if he couldn’t do his job as he could before?

And, of course, there was also that small matter of finding the perfect project. He’d been looking at several scripts a while ago, but nothing had seemed… right for him. So he’d postponed, and postponed, and postponed – and the more time passed, the more his fear had grown.

Perhaps he should speak to Holly Chang, she might have something in the works. Then again, if he recalled correctly, she’d been hired for another project a few months ago, and was likely too busy to create another masterpiece.

No, he wasn’t going to find what was right for him now. And, in any case, it wasn’t like he had the time for creating a film before the next semester started. Unless, of course, he didn’t create it from scratch. If there was already a script, and a cast, and he’d only have to give up some creative control… no. Absolutely not. He was not, not even for a second, going to consider Danielle’s proposal.

But it hadn’t been a proposal, had it? She’d acted as if it was already set in stone. You are going to take over his job, she’d said. She hadn’t asked him if he would do it, nor had she presented it in any way that implied he had a choice. He’d thought it was just her way of trying to persuade him – make him think he couldn’t say no – but on the fifth day after their conversation, he was proven wrong.

It was a crisp white envelope that day, with no address on it but simply his name. He took it out of the mailbox and placed it on his kitchen counter, wondering if opening it was a good idea. He knew it wasn’t. So he didn’t touch it for several hours, in fact, he forgot about it until he went to get a glass of Scotch that night. And so when he returned to the lounge with his tumbler, he took the envelope with him as well.

It sat on the coffee table for another hour so, while he read over a script a former student of his had sent him, and his eyes kept wandering to that cursed piece of paper. And so, eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and opened it. He immediately regretted that decision.

Thomas didn’t think he would ever be blackmailed again. After all, he hadn’t done anything he could be blackmailed with. But the single picture that had been in that envelope certainly looked like he had done something. And it didn’t much matter whether it was taken out of context or not; not to the press. Especially not considering who the other person in the photo was. While many would likely agree that it didn’t seem much like Thomas, the same could not be said of Danielle. There were few things people – including Thomas – would put past her. Being in a secret relationship with a professor was not one of them.

“Damn you,” Thomas murmured as he stared at the photograph in his hands. “I told you, it could never be just a dance.”

He looked at the picture of him and Danielle dancing just a little too intimately at her first Fairytale Kingdom Formal for another moment, before turning it around. There were three words written on it, followed by a set of initials.

Don’t test me. – V.M.

Thomas was glad he’d put down the glass of Scotch earlier because he was convinced he would have thrown it across the room otherwise. Of course. Of course Danielle would work for Montmartre. She never learnt, did she? She’d been burnt a million times before and, still, she would choose to work for a snake such as him.

Then again, she didn’t know him. And being cast in a film that was expected to be extremely successful must have been quite tempting. As much as Thomas would have hoped she’d know better, as much as he would have hoped he’d taught her to know better, he couldn’t blame her.

What he could blame her for, however, was telling someone that this photo existed. Because Thomas knew for a fact that it had never surfaced before, and that the only person who could have possibly known about it that was at all associated with this project, was Danielle. And, oh, she would pay for that.

But the picture was out there now, and if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Viktor Montmartre would not back down until he got what he wanted. And since Thomas had nothing on him whatsoever – not yet, anyway – he would have to play along. For now.

He had received the first letter. Danielle knew this because she was sitting in her car, just down the street from where Hunt lived and had just seen one of Viktor’s men drive by. She considered taking it out of his mailbox before he could find it but knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. Viktor had the pictures now. He had all the so-called proof he needed. It didn’t matter that what it was supposed to prove never even happened. The photos were all real, and it didn’t look good for her. It looked even worse for Hunt.

Maybe she should have told him when she’d gone to talk to him. Maybe she shouldn’t have waited for Viktor to take action. But how was she supposed to tell him that she may have accidentally ruined his entire life? She’d been too scared to bring it up. Terrified, really. And now it was too late.

Not long after the letter had been delivered, Hunt had come out of the house to collect his mail. But Danielle did not receive an angry text, or a call, within an hour of him going back inside. She would have expected one. Though, maybe, he simply didn’t think her number would still be the same. So she checked her e-mail. Nothing.

It seemed strange to her that Hunt wouldn’t immediately contact her. After all, he must have known that nobody but her would have known about the pictures. She wondered which ones had been in the envelope.

Had Viktor gone straight for the one from after the Fairytale Kingdom Formal, in which she had stupidly kissed his cheek, and it had looked like she had actually kissed him? Or had he chosen the one in which they were just dancing? That one would have been only marginally better, since they were holding each other quite closely, but at least it wasn’t ostensibly a kiss. Or maybe it was the one from Sundance. That one was the least terrible, and it had even been printed before, but in combination with the others – suffice it to say, it would no longer simply look like a professor who was proud of his student.

She should have listened to him when he’d said he wouldn’t dance with her. She should have listened to him when he’d taught her to always be wary of the people she did business with. But she was stupid, and she always thought she knew better, even when experience told her otherwise. In the end, Hunt had always been right.

Danielle checked her e-mail once again – still nothing – before she finally decided to drive off.

The call she’d expected finally came around a quarter to three in the morning. She was still awake, trying to distract herself by finally watching that show Addison had recommended to her so many times. Now that she was trying not to think of reality seemed the perfect time to get lost in a world of dragons and faeries… nonetheless, the second her phone rang, Danielle slammed her laptop shut and reached for her phone.

She didn’t want to answer. But she knew that she would have to face him eventually. So she picked up and immediately said, “I know. I’ll text you the address.”

“No need,” came Hunt’s voice from the other end of the line, just before her doorbell rang. “You should consider finding better friends. It’s quite concerning how willingly they give out your information.”

Danielle groaned as she made her way to the door. Of course he would already be there. He was Thomas Hunt, after all. “If Ethan gave you my address, it’s because he knows you, Hunt. Hold on, I’ll buzz you in.” She stopped short of the button, hesitating for a moment. “You didn’t bring any sort of weapon, did you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I wanted you dead, I’d have hired someone,” he said before hanging up.

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Danielle murmured before pressing the button to let him inside. She wasn’t entirely sure if Hunt was joking or not, but at least she knew she wouldn’t die tonight.

Tags: @lilyoffandoms @trappedinfandoms @flyawayboo @oneemofungirl @alleksa16 @silversparrow02 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @alj4890

#hwu #hwu hunt #thomas hunt #professor hunt #danielle

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shadedrose01 · 4 years ago

Text

Young God

Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Tags: idek how to tag this one, uhh, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, kind of?, more like, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with benefits?, Rivalry, Rivals with benefits?, Its hard to explain aodjsk, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nothing shown tho, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, parkner week 2020, Day 2, Arguing

Prompts: “And i said ‘no,’ you know, like a liar” / identity shenanigans / iron lad

Notes: Day 2, everybody! Hope you enjoy! 💞💞

Read on ao3 Here!

He says "oo, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends,

I'm the king and you're the queen, and we will stumble through heaven,"

Peter sucks in a quick breath just before he crashes onto the rooftop, sliding across the sandpaper like tiles and feeling as it rips up his suit, the backs of his arms and legs, his hands as he claws and slows himself down until he finally stops, just at the edge of the house.

He stays still for a second, pants as he hears the mechanical whirrs and clicks of the robotic arms coming closer and closer to him, before he feels his hair stand up, and jumps backwards off of one rooftop to the other, just as Doc Ock crashes through the house below him, leaving only destruction in his wake. Peter listens sharply, for a scream or a cry but hears nothing, and feels a wave of relief knowing the family must not of been home, before its quickly wiped away as he instinctive jumps out of the way again, a claw crunching the stone he was stood on just moments before.

"Come on, Spider-Man," the man taunts, his bluish purple goggles gleaming in the setting sunlight. "Stop running away, and fight!"

Another claw, and another jump, except this time, Peter bounces off of the next rooftop he lands on, circling around and kicking the man right in the jawbone. "You asked for it!" He spits out as the kick throws him back, off kilter for a second, a moment that Peter tries to take to get out of distance again, out of range, but he's too slow, a third claw reaching for him, about to grab him-

Before its blasted to pieces by a bright purple light, and Peter cant help but to stifle the annoyed sigh that threatens to escape, the simmering anger that's been inside him all day starting to boil, to bubble up as he hears the familiar, way way too familiar Southern drawl call out, in all its mocking glory, "Hey squid boy, watch where you're throwing those things, someone could get hurt!"

Peter lands onto the brick wall, sticking into place and turns just to see Doc let out an irritated yell, and lunge for the bright red and gray suit, purple lights attached like lazor pointers to a cat, an easy target that never seems to faze the man no matter how many times Peter told him to tone them down. For once, Peter understands Docs anger, annoyance, as the suit weaves through his claws and shoots them apart with ease, laughing and mocking him the entire time. It makes his insides twist, and his blood boil, his heart racing and his teeth gritting together.

Peter throws himself off the wall just in time to kick Doc to the ground, all of his claws and weapons destroyed, and an affronted, almost insulted noise comes from the robotic suit flying beside him. "You can't just come in and steal the kill, that's not cool, dude!"

Peter doesn't even spare him a glance, webbing the villians hand, feet and then body to the ground. "What, like you did?"

"I did not," The robotizied voice cries out, like a child. "I was just helping you out, Spidey! You should be thanking me!"

Now, Peter can hear the smug grin on the man's face, and this time he can't help the bitter sigh that escapes, as he turns to send a heated glare. "Fuck off, Iron Lad."

He can practically see his eyebrows raise, even through the emotionless mask and the man laughs, loudly, his voice higher pitched with pure amusement as he says, "Oh ho ho, Man! What's got you in a piss poor mood, huh? Having a bad Spidey day, Spider-Man?"

Peter's nostrils flare, and he has to physically hold back the words that long to spill from his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue, flames licking at his lungs. "Police?" He asks instead, glancing away to glare at the stones below him, his hands clenched hard into fists.

"On the way, eta maaybe two minutes?"

"Then let's go." Peter doesn't wait for an answer, shooting a web off into the distance and yanking himself away, huffing out a breath when he hears the very clear, "Sir, yes sir!" And the echo of replusors sound from behind him, following him like they always do.

"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes,

I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight,"

Peter swings for a while, trying to ignore, pretend that the metallic sounds of blasters aren't following him, hoping that eventually, the man, that Harley would get the hint and leave him the fuck alone today, but after a while, he realizes that won't happen and lands on the top of a building, crashing to the ground a little rougher than necessary, feeling his bubbling anger, annoyance rising higher and higher in his chest.

"Finally," The suit groans out, landing right beside Peter on the rooftop before flailing his arms out dramatically. "I thought you were never gonna stop, jeez."

"I'm on patrol." Peter growls out, going to the edge of the rooftop to look down and focus his hearing, to make sure he doesn't miss any moments, any crime that he needs to stop, almost wishing, itching that there was some so he could get away from the man encased in metal. He doesn't know why his presence is bugging him so much today- he's normally annoying, sure but not this much, never this bad- but it is and Peter just longs to get away (even as a part of him begs to get closer).

The man just huffs, his neon purple eyes seeming stare into Peter's soul incredulously. "Thats never stopped you before." When Peter just ignores him, the man takes a step forward and his helmet retracts, the face of the one and only Harley Stark- son to Tony Stark, heir to Stark industeies and the main pain in Peters ass for the last eight months- scrunched up with a weird mix of childish annoyance and worry that makes him look constipated. "Seriously, Spidey. What's going on? Are you okay?"

The real concern that slips into the mans tone makes Peter's insides twist, but he ignores it as he spits out, "Why do you care? Thought you only cared about yourself?"

Its intentionally rude, and he knows it hits its mark when a pang of hurt runs across Harley's features before it disappears back into a blank slate so similar to the one his father wears for the same reason, to hide the pain. "You know that's not true." Even his voice has gone back to painfully neutral, and any satisfaction Peter anticipated to feel is overwhelmed by a sickening guilt that poisons him from the inside out, twists his stomach and makes him feel nauseous.

He should apologize, he knows, but he's still- he still feels the burning, the fire under his skin, in his bloodstream, charring his lungs, molten lava in his veins, and he can't stop the sour words from slipping past his lips, with a faint mocking laugh. "Do I?"

"I thought you did." He mutters, his usually bright, summer day skies eyes darkening as a storm cloud passes by, rumbling with a thunder that makes Peter's heart thump heavily in his chest. "I know you do. I know you don't really like me, I get that, but you normally aren't this much of a dick about it. This isn't you."

Peter just laughs again, bitter and twisted and wrong sounding, even to himself. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

He says, "oo baby girl, don't get caught on my edges,

I'm the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon,"

Harley's eyes just narrow more, his jaw clenching, and Peter can see his words are started to get to him, his fingers twitching and his shoulders raising. Good. "I think I know more about you than you think."

"Do you?" Peter snorts, shaking his head in exasperation as he glances over to the man, glaring, the fire burning brighter, flames licking at his throat. "Say, what do you know about me?"

"I know your kind," He starts, scowling, counting on his fingers as if Peter is a child that he's lecuring. "I know you're considerate. I know you put everyone else before yourself, because you think somehow, subconsciously that your life is worth less than others. I know you feel guilty for something that happened in the past, and try to better yourself because of it. I know you care, much more than you let on." Peter snorts, trying to ignore the emotions and raw feelings bubbling in his throat, and Harley just continues, ignoring it. "I may not know your name, or your face, or your- your identity but I know you, Spidey. And this," He makes a waving motion at Peter's body, "whatever this is, it isn't you. So Explain. What's going on?"

He's almost pleading, now, begging for Peter to tell him and the masked man almost longs to tell him, but honestly, he doesn't even know what's wrong. He's felt this burning, this itch for something since he woke up, and as the day went on, he grew more and more irritated, irate, a chemical reaction gone wrong, Harley acting as a catalyst and speeding up the reaction until now, its starting to explode, bubbling over the glass and creating a mess of emotions.

Peter can't tell him that, though, can't tell him that he's being a dick for nothing, so he just shrugs him off, looking away again and muttering a quick, "Nothing."

He can almost feel the tension in the air rise, turning thick as Harley bristles and flares, "Let me help you, for fucks sake!"

"Maybe I don't want you to help me!" Peter sparks back, whipping his head back around to glare at the man, the energy high, electric around them.

"There's a light in the crack, that separates your thighs,

And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight,"

"Oh, no. You do." Harley sneers, stepping forward, closer to Peter. "You do, you're just too much of a coward to admit it."

Peter rolls up his mask to his nose, and glares heavily at the man, taking a step towards him in retaliation. "Middle school insults, really?"

"Only telling the truth." Another step forward. "You're a coward who tries to hide his true feelings and pretend they don't even, even though you know they do."

"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."

Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a coward, Spider-Man."

And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. Their lips don't disconnect, their heads turning and tongue swirling as Harley's hands roam up and down Peter's suit, over his arms, chest and abs, Peter's moan being swallowed into Harley's mouth, only to be reciprocated moments later.

The kiss breaks only to allow Peter to jump into Harleys arms, his legs wrapped around and sticking to the waist of the metal suit and his arms around his neck before theyre reconnected again, sucking face and groaning into each others mouths.

"My place?" The blond asks, voice muddled by lips and tongue and teeth, and Peter only nods instead of answering, pressing his face into his neck to leave marks, bites and bruises as the other man wraps his arms around his waist and under his ass, before the repulsors start back up and they fly away, towards the giant looming tower in the distance.

And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, for a while now,

Drowning my thoughts out with the sounds,

Peter blinks awake slowly, hearing the faint whisper of a fan and a steady mechanical hum and feeling the satin, silk sheets beneath his fingertips. He turns his head slowly, his brain still groggy as he sees the other man, Harley beside him, his ryestalk hair askew and his face lax, more youthful than Peter's ever seen it, the sheet only covering to halfway up his chest, the rest out in the open, bare outside of the bright red marks still covering his skin. He flushes slightly as the memory's return from the night before, or, evening? He looks to the large, floor to ceiling windows beside the bed to see that it's still nighttime, the bright moonlight shining in through the clear glass, the pale blinds and illumating the room, casting shadows onto Harley's features and making him look... softer, ethereal, such a contrast to his sharp words and his even sharper personality. He finds he likes it, the softer, gentler look, and finds himself staring for a few moments, taking the moment in before he sits up slowly, making sure not to awaken the other man, and stands.

He finds a pair of pants on the floor, and a shirt he isn't sure is clean or dirty, throwing them both on before noticing a glass door, leading out into a balcony on the other side of the room. He had remembered landing somewhere early, hazily, though he obviously wasnt focused on it. It must've been there. He finds himself drawn to it, tiptoeing quietly over to the door and sliding it open before stepping outside, and taking a large inhale of the chilled air. He moves to the railing of the balcony, listening to the faint breeze of the late August winds, the car horns and honks in the distance, stares down at the still busseling, still alive city below them, not really focusing on anything, not really thinking, just breathing, feeling, living.

That must be why he doesn't hear the other man stirring, or hear him approch until the door behind him clicks open again. Peter doesn't turn around, doesn't have to, just continuing to watch the cars drive by until two arms wrap around his waist, gently, warily, until a, now clothed, chest is pressed against his back, and a chin rests on his shoulder. Peter just exhales, leaning back into the other mans grip, feeling more relaxed, more at ease than he has in a while, longer than he can remember.

Do you feel like a young god?

You know the two of us are just young gods,

"Do you ever..." Peter doesn't know when, or why, he starts to speak, doesn't think of what he says as he murmurs, hushed, low, a whisper, "feel like a young god? With these powers, the suits, the- the responsibility..." Harley just hums, faintly, and they start to sway, subtle, gentle back and forth motions, back and forth, like waves cascading onto a beach. "They all look up to me. The people, the city. They all-" Peter shakes his head, sighing lightly, airy. "And sometimes I just... sometimes I just don't know if I'm enough, you know? Sometimes I just..."

"Need a break." The other man finishes, murmurs, his lips brushing against Peter's cheek and sends tingles down his back.

"I-I guess so, yeah." There's a few moments, a few seconds where they just sit in the comfortable silence, where Peter glances up at the smog filled sky, seeing a few stars shining through, the almost full moon gleaming brightly down at them.

Before, "Let me help, baby." Harley whispers, pleads, and Peter goes to protest but the blond beats him to it. "You're burnt out, constantly saving the city, saving the world, constantly being the punching bag for everyone else, let me help. Please, Peter," And that was something new, too, Harley knowing his name, knowing his face, knowing him through and through, though he knows the other man won't tell, won't share, turning his head with easy fingers to look him in the eye, his ocean blues almost neon in the glow of the moon. "Let me help you."

They stare at each other, flickering from eye to eye for a few beats, a few thumps in Peter's chest, and he doesn't answer, not really, just lowers his head and places it onto Harley's chest, into the crook of his neck, but his lack of an answer is answer enough. The older man just presses a drawn out kiss onto the top of his head, and holds him closer, a non spoken thank you that sends Peter reeling, unused to the feeling of care, of concern, of love.

And yet, surrounded by strong arms and held closely to a firm chest, Peter feels at his strongest, feels comforted, known, feels safe. He closes his eyes, and just breathes, let's himself have this moment of calm and quiet in the arms of his love.

And we'll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath,

And they're running, running, running...

#parkner week 2020 #parkner #harley keener/peter parker #harley keener #peter parker #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu

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